The rain had finally stopped.
Actually, describing what had fallen from the sky as rain was something of an understatement — it was a deluge — and now both Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry were soaked to the skin.
While packing up their camp that morning the ex-outlaws had noticed the gathering clouds in the distance but had paid them little attention, assuming their contents would most likely be cast over higher ground, far away from where they were headed. And anyway, even if the bad weather did reach them their chosen trail wound its way nicely through a dense wood of tall broad-leafed trees. That would afford them all the cover they needed.
They had been wrong.
The skies had given very little warning, a few large drops to rattle the leaves overhead together with a tiny rumble of thunder, before what felt like the contents of the Colorado River was dumped over them in the space of an hour. Finding a more impermeable shelter had not been an option and the two riders eventually abandoned trying to keep up their usual pace and instead gave their unhappy mounts free rein to pick their own route over the sodden ground.
Once the rain had ceased they breathed a sigh of relief only to find that the track they were following took a line at the base of a steep slope bordering the wood. This meant the trees now dropped great globules of water over them from those lovely broad leaves they had anticipated would be their shelter.
Heyes pulled his sorrel to a halt and, without thinking, looked down to untie his canteen. This resulted in a brimful of water cascading from his hat, landing on the front of his saddle and running down the dip.
"$*#%!"
Kid Curry looked over his shoulder and grinned at his partner's irritated expression. "Don't know what you're cussin' for, Heyes. You're already about as wet as you can get."
Heyes took a mouthful of water from his canteen before replying, "Ain't that the truth! I can't remember when I've been as wet as this, 'cept last time I had a bath."
"Me neither," agreed his cousin. "It's gonna take days to dry out all our gear."
"Didn't even have time to think about getting my slicker on." Heyes took his hat off, shook it, then placed it firmly on his head. He adjusted it — twice — in the vague hope it would stop the water from accumulating in the brim.
"Figure it'd be a waste of time now, even if it does start rainin' again. We've gotta try and find a line shack or even a cave, Heyes, or we're gonna have a real cold, wet night. I'd rather keep riding than sleep on this wet ground. In my book, that's a sure way to get a lung fever."
"The way our luck has been running I wouldn't be surprised if we didn't end up getting one anyway. Four towns and no work. And in mining country too." Heyes shook his head in disbelief.
The two riders continued along the trail, Kid taking the lead.
"How much money d' you figure we've got between us, Heyes?"
"I don't have to figure — I know. Five dollars and eleven cents."
"Sheesh. That won't get us far. I can't believe the last town you steered us to didn't have any gamblin'."
"No gambling! Heck, it didn't have one single saloon!" Heyes read the disgruntled set of his cousin's shoulders. "How was I to know it was a company town?"
"Guess we shouldn't be surprised, we are in the middle of Utah. A lot of folks here don't hold with drinkin' and gamblin' and those company towns have real strict rules."
Both men fell silent while negotiating a particularly steep part of the trail which wound its way down to the river that they could hear below them.
The river was at full force but luckily it had not yet burst its banks, otherwise the trail they intended to follow would have been washed out. Stopping on a flat sandy area of the riverbank they leant on their saddle horns surveying the fast flowing water.
"That sure is racin' along!" Kid had to raise his voice to be heard above the roar.
"Yeah, I hope nobody got taken by surprise trying to cross it. Rain like that can stir up the bottom real quick, take your horse's feet right from under him."
Pointing to a bend some distance away where the river narrowed, Kid observed, "Bet those rapids weren't that fierce this morning."
"Well, we'd better keep going." Heyes glanced up at the sky. "Looks like it's gonna rain again." He began to rein his horse back toward the trail.
"Hold on a minute, Heyes!" Still looking upstream, Kid Curry stood up in his stirrups. "Did you see that?"
"What?"
"There's somethin' in the water. I saw it bobbin' about."
"It's probably a log. C'mon."
"Uh-uh. It wasn't a log." Kid kept his eyes fixed on the rapids. He jabbed his finger in the direction of the object as he caught sight of it once more. "There, see!"
"Nope."
"Looks to me like somethin' tryin' to swim."
Hannibal Heyes stared at the roiling water. When he turned back he saw that Kid had dismounted and was quickly undoing the leather strap which attached his lariat to the saddle.
"What are you doing?" he asked, with dismay.
Kid placed his hat on his saddle horn, opened up the loop of rope and quickly wriggled his arms and shoulders through it until it was snug around his chest, making sure the honda knot was good and tight. He didn't really want to get his sheepskin jacket completely water-logged but knew if he didn't have the extra padding the rope would pull against his shirt and henley and leave him with bruised and painful ribs.
"You're not ..."
"C'mon Heyes, grab hold will ya," urged Kid, tossing the coil of rope in his partner's direction.
Heyes extended a hand deftly catching it and with a loud sigh slid from his saddle. He quickly wound the end around his saddle horn, all the while muttering to himself; the only clearly discernable words being lame-brained and idiot. Having taken a good grip on the rope he braced himself and nodded to Kid who wasted no time in wading out into the torrent. Within seconds he could feel the sand and gravel of the river bottom moving and inevitably his feet were swept from under him. Heyes hung on tight, steadied the rope and backed up to lean against his horse, encouraging it to take a couple of steps to its left until Kid was upright again.
"This is a really dumb idea...even for you!" he shouted, his words muffled by the roar of the river as his partner made his way to the centre of the channel.
Kid had only just turned to face upstream when he caught sight of his quarry being tossed around amid the rocks and white water. It was approaching rapidly. He tried to gauge where the flow would take it but miscalculated and the current almost pulled it past him. Lunging to his right his outstretched hands just managed to grab hold but the movement took his feet off the river bottom and he found himself taking in a large mouthful of water as he was dragged under.
The heels of Heyes' boots dug deep into the riverbank, his arms and shoulders straining with the effort of keeping the rope taut and his mouth dry with fear as he watched his cousin flounder.
Having urged his sorrel to take a few more steps toward the trail Heyes only stopped holding his breath when he was satisfied that Kid had regained his footing. He then began to coil the lariat in while Kid walked backwards pulling the object he had retrieved. As he got closer Heyes could see that it was a large, brown and very bedraggled dog.
Still coughing and spluttering from his dunking in the river, Kid backed up to the riverbank and sat down heavily, grabbing the dog by the scruff of its neck and heaving it onto the safety of the bank. The animal lay there, motionless.
"You really are one crazy son-of-a—." Heyes shook his head as he crouched down and gripped his cousin's arm, mostly for his own benefit, confirming to himself that the Kid was alright. "Of all the darn-fooled things to go and do. And for a dog!"
Still breathing heavily Kid hung his head then looked up to regard the dog with concern. "He ain't dead is he?" he croaked.
"After all that, he'd better not be," grumbled Heyes.
Kid placed the palm of his hand against the dog's rib cage. "He feels real cold, Heyes, but I think he's breathin'. I wonder how long he's been in the water."
Heyes got to his feet, pushed his hat to the back of his head and frowned. "Okay, Kid, seeing as this was your idea, what do you propose we do now? He don't look like he can walk and he sure can't ride, and we need to find some shelter — and fast. Those storm clouds are headed our way and in a couple of hours we're gonna be losing daylight."
"I don't know what you're gettin' all cranky for, Heyes. I'm the one who went in the river to get him."
"Yeah, and couldha got himself drowned!"
Flashing a grin at his disgruntled partner Kid wriggled free of the lariat and pulled off his boots one at a time, tipping out the murky river water that was sloshing around his feet. Having replaced his boots he took hold of Heyes' proffered hand and stood. Then he began undoing the saddle strings around his bedroll.
"Now, what are you doing?"
"I'm gonna wrap the dog in this blanket to keep him warm then, when I'm settled on my horse, you're gonna set him in front of me. I'll carry him just like when we was carrying dogies on a drive." He caught the hard look that Heyes gave him and returned it with an even harder one of his own. "Well, we ain't leavin' him here."
"Okay, okay." Heyes crouched down again and, as Kid folded the blanket in half and set it out on the ground, he picked up the dog and wrapped him up in the roughly woven fabric. Once Kid was mounted up and had the exhausted animal in place across his saddle they continued on their way.
Somehow, the dog didn't balance across the saddle quite as easily as a calf and Kid found himself having to steady the animal each time they came to a rough patch of ground. Progress was slow and exactly as Heyes had predicted a steady rain once more started to fall.
Despite the motion of the horse the dog hadn't moved at all and Kid was starting to worry. "Heyes, can you see how he's doin'?" he asked.
The black hat dipped as the wearer peered at the animal, thereby pouring a runnel of rainwater straight down into his boot.
"$*#%!"
"Well?"
Heyes gritted his teeth. "His eyes are closed. He could be dead."
"Or, he could be asleep."
"I can't worry about him, Kid. I'm too worried about us. We need to get outta this rain."
Another hour's riding and the heavy cloud cover, together with the persistent rain, was making the temperature drop and what little daylight remained fade rapidly. It was starting to look more and more likely that the two men would have to resign themselves to spending the night on wet ground when Kid gave a sudden shout.
"Over there, Heyes! Is that a cabin?"
Hannibal Heyes squinted in the direction of Kid's finger and his grim expression lit up with a smile.
"Could be," he said, and with a loud whoop turned his horse off the trail and loped off toward what appeared to be the edge of another forest.
Because of his canine burden, Kid followed at a more leisurely pace and by the time he caught up with his partner Heyes was already out of his saddle, gun drawn, and opening the door of the small wooden building. Kid scanned the surrounding area as his partner cautiously went inside. When he reappeared the grin on his face had widened even further.
"It's dry, it's got a stove and it's abandoned, if the cobwebs everywhere are anything to go by."
"Ha, ha!" exclaimed Kid. "Here, take him in. I'll get our gear." He passed the dog down to his cousin's waiting arms and Heyes went back inside the cabin while Kid grabbed their saddlebags and bedrolls. Dumping them in a pile on the cabin floor he then turned his attention to finding the best cover for the horses and set up a highline among the trees.
Heyes, in the meantime, was busy lighting a fire in the pot-bellied stove with some dry wood from a basket in the corner. He had also found a lamp which, by the sloshing noise it made when he shook it, still had a fair amount kerosene in it and so, by the time his partner returned the place was starting to feel quite cosy. After placing both saddles as far away from the fire as possible, Kid stood shedding water generously over the old floorboards.
"Take that coat off outside and wring it out a bit, will you, Kid. We don't want the floor all wet; it's gonna be our bed for the night."
Kid Curry sighed as he looked down at the puddle forming at his feet and reluctantly stepped back outside. Taking his jacket off he turned it inside-out and proceeded to squeeze as much water out of the heavy, waterlogged fleece as he could manage. Back inside he placed it over the back of a rickety old chair which he moved nearer to the warm stove.
Both men then stripped off their wet clothes and shivering, spread them about the room over anything they could find. Heyes rummaged in his saddlebags and was delighted to find that he had one pair of only slightly damp long johns and a henley which he put on. In response to Kid's shake of his dripping blond curls as he held up a sodden set of underwear from his pack, Heyes undid his bedroll and handed him the only remaining dry blanket.
Pulling the rough weave closely around himself Kid sat on the floor next to where Heyes had placed the dog. The animal's coat was starting to dry and, to Kid's touch, he felt much warmer.
"Stroke o' luck finding this place," he said. "I was startin' to feel real cold."
"Yeah, me too. The only problem is, we haven't got a lot of wood in here. What we have got might last us the night but... You didn't happen to see a log store out there did you?"
Kid groaned. "You could've asked me that before I took my wet clothes off! No, I didn't see a log store, I just wanted to get the horses under some cover and get inside real quick to warm up."
Looking at his cousin's crestfallen face, Heyes said, "Don't worry about it, Kid. We'll sort it out in the morning. How about something to eat? We're running low on supplies but I think we've got some beans left over from yesterday. I could warm them up. And we've got some peaches, that's if the can hasn't gone rusty."
"Hot food sounds good, Heyes. I don't care what it is."
It wasn't long before the aroma of the food together with Heyes' coffee joined the not so pleasant smell of drying fleece and wet dog in the small cabin. The men sat in companionable silence, listening to the heavy drumming of the rain on the roof and enjoying the much-longed-for warmth when the dog at last gave a little whimper and his nose a began to twitch.
"He's wakin' up!" exclaimed Kid, and he leaned forward to stroke the dog only to pull back sharply as a deep growl emanated from the still prone canine.
Heyes stated the obvious. "Don't sound too friendly."
"He's just scared. You'd feel pretty ornery if you'd been thrown around in those rapids thinkin' you was gonna drown."
"Hmmm." Heyes wasn't convinced.
"Hey, fella," Kid cajoled, "We're not gonna hurt ya."
The dog slowly opened his eyes and stared at Kid Curry. Two golden brown orbs then followed Heyes as he moved to the stove, poured two cups of coffee and began spooning some food onto their old tin plates. He handed one to Kid who hastily got to work with his fork. " 's good," mumbled the blond through a mouthful of beans.
Heyes laughed. "Good? You're always griping that we don't eat anything but beans when we're on the trail!"
"No, I don't!"
At Heyes' wide-eyed expression Kid shrugged his shoulders and gave a wry smile, "Okay, maybe I do, but when you're as cold and hungry as I am, almost anythin' tastes good..." He picked up his tin cup. "...even your coffee — and that's sayin' somethin'!"
Before Heyes could defend his coffee-making skills the dog suddenly stood up, shook himself, sneezed a couple of times then sat down again and, raising a long back leg began scratching vigorously.
"Aaaw, I bet he's crawling with fleas," complained Heyes.
"All dogs have fleas. Heck, half the people we know probably have 'em too."
"Yeah, well I sure don't want them." Heyes shifted backwards, away from the dog, but this also took him away from the stove. He shivered then reluctantly moved forward again.
The dog stopped scratching and regarded them both closely.
"You got any more of those beans, Heyes?"
"Yeah, there should be enough for a second helping."
"I was thinking he might want some." Kid nodded toward the dog.
"Dogs don't eat beans!"
"Dogs'll eat anythin' if they're hungry enough — a bit like me," grinned Kid, holding up his dented plate. "Here, use this."
"Why don't you get him some?"
"Heyes, in case you've forgot, I'm holdin' this blanket around me for a reason; so, unless you want me to drop it and walk around buck nekkid..."
"No, no! Stay right where you are." Heyes hurriedly got to his feet. He edged his way toward the stove trying to ignore the growling dog and ladled two large spoonfuls of beans onto the plate. Placing it on the floor he withdrew to a safer distance.
The dog stared at Heyes before lowering its head and sniffing curiously at the plate. Within a couple of seconds the beans had disappeared and he looked up hopefully, licking his lips.
"There y'are. Told you he'd eat them," said Kid, smugly. "You want some more, fella?"
Heyes dished up what remained of the beans and they watched as this too was quickly devoured. The dog then proceeded to lick at the plate for quite some time, chasing it enthusiastically around the dirty cabin floor.
"Well, there goes your second helping," declared Heyes, unsympathetically. "And Kid, seeing as he's been moppin' your plate with that slobbery ol' tongue of his, you might want to consider eating your peaches straight outta the can."
ooooo-OOO-ooooo
The pale light of dawn was just starting to creep through the cabin's single window as Hannibal Heyes began to stir. He listened. The sound of heavy rain on the roof was gone; all he could hear now was the drip, drip, drip of water off the trees. With a sigh of relief he slowly opened his eyes.
Last night they had managed to dry out the other blanket but had still decided that, as the fire in the stove would probably die during the night, they would be much warmer if they bunked in together under both blankets. And, much to Heyes' relief, by the time they settled down to sleep a pair of Kid's long johns had dried sufficiently for him to wear.
Shifting uncomfortably on the wooden floor Heyes tried to turn onto his back only to find that his legs appeared to be pinned down somehow by the blanket.
With considerable effort accompanied by a little grunting and groaning he managed to wriggle round and prop himself up onto his elbows. It was then that the cause of the problem became clear. During the night, the dog had made itself comfortable in between them causing Heyes to get twisted up in his blanket as he turned over.
Finding the animal together with its likely collection of vermin sleeping that close to him made Heyes groan even louder. At the sudden sound both the dog and Kid raised their heads at the same time.
"Wa...wassa matter?" Kid slowly rolled over and caught sight of the dog. "Hey fella. You decided it was warmer here between us, did ya?" he said, patting the dog between the ears before his eyes drifted up to his glowering partner. The dog followed his gaze and rumbled a growl.
Heyes wrested himself free of the blankets. "Don't you go growling at me," he grumbled, giving the dog a long, hard stare. "Or you won't be getting any breakfast."
"We got anything for breakfast?" Kid's stomach was feeling empty. Last night's supper hadn't exactly filled him up.
"Some jerky, maybe."
Still in his long johns, Heyes was busy pulling cold boots onto bare feet and shrugging into his old, yet still damp, grey coat. "Gotta..." He jerked his head in the direction of the cabin door. As he opened it the dog appeared at his side, a wet black nose raised to test the fresh morning air. "Oh, not growling at me now?" Heyes asked sarcastically as the animal jumped down the step and hurriedly cocked its leg against the nearest tree.
Sloshing his way across the still saturated ground to a different tree, Heyes did what he needed to do, but before sloshing his way inside again he detoured around the back of the cabin looking for the much needed log store. The dog followed him, snuffling excitedly in small circles over the footprints he left on the wet ground.
Heyes grinned as he was rewarded with the sight of a small structure leaning against the back wall of the cabin inside of which was enough wood for one more day. He placed a hand on one of the logs. It was only slightly damp, so he gathered a few up in his arms to take back inside.
Turning to retrace his steps Heyes noticed the dog lapping thirstily at a muddy puddle and felt guilty for not thinking to give it some water from their canteens last night. Apart from their horses, neither he nor the Kid had been responsible for an animal of their own for many a year. Not since their childhood back in Kansas...
The sudden recollection of a small black and white terrier lying in the middle of a bloodstained farmyard as buildings burned struck him like a thunderbolt. Leaning back against the log store he sucked a ragged breath into his tightening chest and closed his eyes as he fought to rid himself of the painful memory, pushing it away to its rightful place in the far recesses of his mind.
Heyes shook his head, quickly focussed his eyes and looked around for the dog. He was nowhere to be seen. Aw well, he thought, didn't think it would be long before he was on his way. He was therefore surprised on his return to the front of the cabin to see the animal sitting by the door.
Despite how he had felt a few seconds earlier Heyes started to laugh. The dog's snuffling in the muddy water had made the long rough hair around its snout stick together, giving it the appearance of a large, droopy, brown moustache.
Still chuckling he shouldered the door open. "In y' go, Wheat," he said, following the dog inside.
In Heyes' absence Kid had found his eyes closing again and was now in that pleasant fuzzy state between waking and sleep but, at the sound of his partner's voice and especially the name he had uttered, he sat up with a start and looked around expecting to see their former gang member, Wheat Carlson.
"What?! Who?"
Heyes looked at his cousin's befuddled expression with some amusement. "What's the matter with you?"
"I must have been dreamin', Heyes. I thought for a minute you was talkin' to Wheat."
"I was."
"Huh?"
Heyes pointed to the dog who was now sitting in front of the stove, hoping for more of the beans he had sampled last night.
"Thought he needed a name so I called him Wheat on account of him having the same moustache."
Kid rubbed at his sleepy blue eyes. "You're right," he said, with a grin. "He does look like Wheat. And he's kinda proddy. That'd account for him growlin' at you like that."