Dear Diary

Dear Diary,

It was difficult to leave Santa Marta. After all, it isn't every day a girl falls for a guy like that. So strong, so virile ... so ... good looking! Oh, excuse me, I must be blushing like a teenager!

Anyway, yes, the Alcalde was nice, but in the end it probably wouldn't have worked out. After all, I don't speak Spanish, I'd miss Denver, I'd miss my father, and certainly ... I'd miss my boys. Oh, you thought I was speaking about them? Well, yes, the description does fit both of them. And I do love them both ... more or less equally.

Now, mind you, it's not like I see Heyes and Kid much these days. Matter of fact, I'm lucky to see them once a year, if that. But I often think about them, and I do try to keep up with their travels. You see, they keep me informed every now and then by post, less often by wire. They're just about the best friends a girl could have.

Friends? Yes. Something more? I'm not sure. Maybe. But how would I choose? That's a question I've asked myself too many times, as you know from what's written here in these pages.

Let's see, I was sixteen when we first met. I was just growing out of my tomboy ways, but I don't think I'll ever totally outgrow them. Anyway, there was Heyes, looking all dapper in his new shirt and string tie for his first day of work at the general store. He was seventeen. He'd come a long way from that horrible place he and Kid had run away from; well, maybe not so horrible, just not home. And as I said, here I was, just an awkward thing around boys, just beginning to discover them a real late bloomer, as my aunt called me. My father said one day I'd meet the right boy, and here I thought I just had!

Heyes was walking one way down the street, and I was walking the other way, toward him. I laid eyes on just about everyone I passed, as you do when you're out, but when I saw him, I just stopped! Yes, rooted to that very spot on the sidewalk. I was mesmerized! Good thing it wasn't too busy at that moment, or I'd have been bumped into to beat the band.

Then he caught up to me, and he smiled a little smile, as if to acknowledge someone. But my face must have been funny to behold, because he stopped, too. There I was just standing there staring at him. He just looked at me, a twinkle lighting up those dark brown eyes. And he SMILED! Not just a smile, but a huge grin that would probably light a Christmas tree all by itself. And those dimples lit up my whole world at that moment. I'd never seen anything like those dimples!

"May I help you with something, Miss?" he asked.

And I just stared. I'm sure I was blushing. And rooted to that one spot, just staring.

"Miss?"

And then it dawned on me, I'd better say something! He'd think me a real ninny if all I could do was gape at him. But that beautiful smile and those twinkling eyes said otherwise. At that moment, it was like he could see right through me and might have liked what he saw.

I stammered, "Yes?"

And before I knew it, he introduced himself he had the sweetest manners. "I'm Hannibal Heyes. Can I help you with something, Miss?"

"Well ..." I could not finish, so overtaken was I with embarrassment and love (I thought).

"Miss ...?" He tipped his hat in greeting. No man had ever tipped his hat to me before.

"Umm ... Clementine Hale, I think."

(What?! Did I say, "I think"?! What kind of thing is that to say, "I think"?!)

His smile grew even broader, if that was possible. He even chuckled a little. "Ma'am, I presume then to have the pleasure of meeting Miss Clementine Hale?"

"Yes!" I blurted out. "That's right. But most people call me 'Clem.'"

"Clem it is then." Then, he winked. At me! The shy, awkward, gangly tomboy from Parker Road in Denver.

I almost ... well ... well, suffice it to say this time I really was blushing! I could feel it! But, I'll keep those thoughts to myself in case you have delicate ears, Diary.

Well, I can go on, but that s how a chance meeting on the street of two strangers led to this wonderful friendship. What was that, Diary? You want me to go on? All right.

You see, as I said previously, Hannibal (as he asked me to call him), was on his way to his first day at a new job. But, before that, he was dropping lunch off to his friend who was working at a tannery not too far away. He invited me to walk with him, as long as I did not think it improper. I did not. So, we walked, and talked, and walked some more, and talked some more. And then, it seemed all of a sudden, we stopped in front of a rickety looking building, and he asked me to wait there in front while he brought lunch to his friend in back.

"Why can't I go in with you?" I asked impulsively. Then, I thought, I m being too forward.

"Because it's no place for a lovely young lady." His eyes twinkled as he said that.

He called me a "lovely young lady"?! Me?!

I stammered again, but I did not want to leave his side. Not at that moment. "I'd like to go, I said. After all, I was the curious type, if a little too rough and tumble sometimes for my father's liking.

"All right, then you shall. But be careful. It s dirty and smelly back there. I make my friend wash up good in the trough out back before I let him into our room."

"Don't worry, I'll be careful." I was feeling a little more confident, but still awkward.

He then led the way through the alley to a very dirty, very smelly tent and open area in the back. There, a soot-covered young man in a full length leather apron turned when Hannibal called to Jed (that s what we called Kid back then).

Well, Jed was dirty, to say the least! Black soot and grease covered him from top to bottom. But, beneath all that, a mop of dark curls covered his head and brushed down toward those eyes ... those bright blue eyes still shined through. I later found out those curls were actually golden, and he wore his hair much longer then than he does now. He was fifteen, almost sixteen. Yes, I'm between them in age.

Hannibal handed Jed his lunch and introduced us.

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am." He acknowledged my presence almost as warmly as Hannibal had, but maybe just a little awkward and shy.

"How sweet!" I said out loud what I'd meant to be only a thought. How embarrassing could I get!

"Ma'am?" Jed focused his gaze on me, a little confused look on the soot-caked countenance with the wide grin.

How sweet, indeed! He couldn't have been any nicer! Actually, neither of them could have been.

Well, we spoke some to Jed while he took a short lunch break. I found out a lot about them, and them me. It became a daily ritual, me meeting up with Hannibal on the street, right at our spot, and walking together over to the tannery, talking through Jed's lunch break before Hannibal had to get to the general store and I had to go home.

This continued for a few months. Not long after we'd met, I introduced them to my father. He liked the boys and was impressed by their industriousness, especially for their ages. They even began to join us for Sunday dinner at our house. Of course, Fater could never know them like I did. We d scheme about the future, the three of us. And all the time, I felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

But, somewhere along the way, it became more than a friendship to me. Yes, my initial infatuations had settled into something beyond that. It was comfortable, but also confusing. They were like the best brothers anyone could have. But the feelings I started having for them were not the feelings you had for your brothers. I kept them hidden for fear of spoiling what we had. I did not want to lose it.

By the time we'd all turned over a year Hannibal, eighteen, me seventeen, and Jed sixteen things started to change a little. Something happened with the boys. They weren't quite so close anymore. When I'd ask if everything was all right, they'd say, "Sure, everything is fine." But I knew it wasn't.

Hannibal left Denver with little more than a sweet kiss. He said he'd stay in touch and asked me to keep an eye on Jed. And, of course, I said I would. And I did.

If Hannibal had been my original knight in shining armor, Jed was number two. Actually, I shouldn't call him a number two it s just that I met Hannibal first, by all of ten minutes.

Jed and I continued on for a time after that, a twosome now rather than three. We slid into something even more comfortable, more companionable; maybe even a little romantic at times, but not really. But, he was not happy at the tannery, and he said he needed to see something more of the world. I knew that was true and respected it, but there was something of a sadness about him as well. I think he missed Hannibal.

Of course, I knew he was good with a gun. I'd occasionally ride with him out beyond the outskirts of town and watch him practice. He even tried to teach me a thing or two about shooting, and I did learn some, but I wouldn't let it show, not too much anyway. By then, I wanted Jed as my man, so to speak, if I had one to think he had a little something over me. After all, a girl can t be as good at something as a man. Not that he'd see it that way, though maybe he would. But, it's what I thought men needed, and I wanted to give that to him.

Well, Jed left about a month or so after Hannibal. They didn't meet up again for a long time. They'd both write occasionally. When they did, I d write back if there was an address to reply to. And after a while, a few years, they worked out whatever their differences were and have been together again ever since.

Of course, over time, I heard more and more about Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry. And when I saw them next, after they had reconciled, it was now Heyes and Kid Hannibal and Jed seemed to be lost to the past. But, when we get together, those moments we can steal away or they find a way to visit, it's still the same old amiable, comfortable, companionable times they ever were, except now we're a bit more wary when others are around. No bars on my heart, my feelings are still there, for both of them. And I think they still feel the same for me, both of them. We re still the same good, scheming friends we always were.

Well, Diary, I'm going to close here. I'm feeling a bit sentimental about my boys. Perhaps another time I'll relate more.

Good night, and yours truly,
Clementine Hale