FORGET ME NOT

Chapter One

The muffled thrumpp of hoof beats broke the afternoon calm. Even before the two riders came into view, the sounds of horses being ridden hard would have alerted anyone nearby that someone was in peril and running fast. As it was, only birds and other small desert creatures watched curiously as Heyes and Curry appeared over the top of the ridge; their horses exhausted by a desperate run from the posse that pursued them.

Out of sight, for the moment, of the band of men that had been chasing them for the last three days, Heyes and Curry pulled their horses to a stop. They allowed the animals a much needed rest, however short it turned out to be. Both men were tired and dusty and hungry. They had been able to take only short breaks from the saddle since the posse started chasing them and the ordeal was beginning to take its toll. Tension radiated from their handsomely rugged faces and their nerves were frazzled almost to the breaking point, causing them to be less than cordial to each other.

"Heyes, what are we gonna do? We can't stay ahead of these guys much longer. Our horses are about done for," Kid snapped, his voice taking on an almost desperate quality.

"Well, what do you expect me to do about it, Kid? We've tried everything I can think of to lose them but they seem to pick up our trail no matter what we do." Heyes hadn't missed the Kid's tone, but he had no intention of revealing his own fear.

"All I know is, if we don't do something soon, we won't be able to run anywhere except maybe on foot."

Heyes looked down at his horse. Kid was right. There weren't many miles left in either animal. He reached down and tenderly caressed his animal's neck from where he sat in the saddle, genuinely sorry that he had to put her through such a test of endurance. Her coat was slick with sweat and she was still breathing rapidly from the exertion.

Heyes thought for a moment. "Kid, I think our only chance might be if we split up." Kid's eyes went wide with dismay. He didn't like the notion of splitting up at all. Before he could object, Heyes continued, "Now hear me out for a second. If we split up, we just might confuse them long enough so we can put some miles between us and them. Enough for us both to get away. Then we'll meet up in a few days when the coast is clear again."

Kid was still frowning. He never liked the idea of letting Heyes go off on his own, even when there wasn't a posse breathing down their necks. Even though he wouldn't admit it to anyone, not even himself most of the time, and most certainly never to Heyes; his partner was too important to him. He didn't want to run the risk of something happening to him when he wasn't there to prevent it.

Kid opened his mouth, ready to protest, but before he got a word out, Heyes cut him off. "It's the only way, Kid. You see that, don't you? Let's see, Gordonville is about sixty miles from here, I think. Let's plan to meet there day after tomorrow. That'll give us plenty of time to shake these guys and double back to town." Heyes smiled reassuringly at his partner, "It'll be ok, Kid. You'll see. In a couple of days, we'll be relaxing in a nice hotel room and you'll be wondering what you were ever worried about."

Kid felt uneasy about it but knew there was no talking to Heyes once he had his mind made up and besides, there was no time for talking anyway. The posse would be catching up with them soon enough. For these reasons alone, he agreed to go along with Heyes' idea, even though his instincts told him it was a bad one. "OK, I guess we don't have any other choice."

"That's the spirit, Kid. Now you be careful and I'll see you in two days." With those words and a quick reassuring smile, Heyes spurred his horse into a run, heading south. With a final look at his friend's retreating back, Kid turned and rode in the opposite direction, moving fast.

A few hours later Kid stopped to rest his horse near a stream where they could both take a drink. He hadn't seen any sign of the men who had been chasing them since Heyes and him split up. He figured this meant one of two things. Either Heyes' plan had worked and going separate ways had made the posse lose their trail, or the whole posse had ended up pursuing just one of them. If this was true, then Heyes could be in a whole world of trouble and he wouldn't even know about it until he got to Gordonville and looked for Heyes.

Short of heading back where he had came from, there wasn't much Kid could do except follow through with Heyes' plan, no matter how bad it was, and go wait for him in Gordonville. Still, he wished he had insisted that they stay together. He had a bad feeling that his friend was going to end up captured, or even worse, killed; all because Kid wasn't there to watch out for him.

With his horse rested, Kid set off again, making a straight course for Gordonville now that he was confident that he wasn't being followed. His mood was dark because he couldn't shake the feeling that Heyes wasn't being as lucky.

Heyes knew how reluctant the Kid was to split up. Heck, he felt the same way himself but there didn't seem to be any other way to get that posse off their tails. He wasn't worried for himself though. He was mostly afraid that if they caught up with Kid, one of the men might be inclined to 'shoot first and ask questions later,' given Kid's reputation as a gunfighter. Kid was better with a gun than anyone but that skill wouldn't save him if some hothead decided to shoot him in the back as he tried to get away. If that happened, Heyes knew he would never be able to forgive himself for insisting that they go off on their own.

He didn't have long to dwell on these thoughts. A few hours after saying good-bye to his partner, Heyes knew that his plan was not working as well as he might have hoped…at least not for him.

He had stopped to rest his horse beneath the shade of a massive oak tree when he spotted the cloud of dust gathering near the horizon in the north. Squinting into the distance, he could just make out the source of the dust. Several horses were racing towards him, powerful hooves chewing up the distance between themselves and their riders' intended captive.

Heyes silently counted the men approaching…seven…eight...nine. He found himself feeling strangely relieved to realize that the whole posse was accounted for. This, at least, meant that Kid was going to be safe. Grabbing his horse's reins from where they lay, dragging in the dirt, he gently rubbed the mare's neck. "Sorry, Girl. Looks like the chase isn't done yet. Do you think we have enough left in us for another run?" Swinging himself gracefully back into the saddle, he urged the horse forward; away from the men chasing them.

For several hours more, Heyes tried everything he could think of to elude the pack pursuing him relentlessly. Desperate, exhausted, and running out of options, he didn't hear the hsssttt of the rattlesnake until his horse was nearly upon it.

Startled, the mare reared up on her hind legs. If her rider had not been quite so fatigued, he probably could have held his seat. As it was, Heyes lost his hold and fell off the horse, striking his head soundly on a rock as he landed.

The rattler was crushed beneath the hooves of the mare as they returned to the earth, so at least it was no longer a danger to the man lying motionless on the cold, hard desert floor. If he had been conscious, he might have been thankful for this. As it was, he had little else to be thankful for.

He didn't see the men as they rode in close to where he lay on the ground. He didn't see the horse's hooves as the riders gathered around him looking at him warily, as if half expecting him to jump up without warning and shoot his gun wildly in hopes of taking out at least a few of his tormentors. He didn't hear them talking excitedly, congratulating themselves on chasing down one half of the team of Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry. He didn't even feel their hands on him as they roughly tied his hands, lifted him up, and placed him across his saddle for the ride back to town. No, Hannibal Heyes wasn't aware of any of this. But maybe that was just as well.

Kid arrived in Gordonville late the next afternoon, about twenty-four hours after leaving Heyes. He had spent an uncomfortable, cold, lonely night alone in the desert with only a tiny flame to keep him warm. He hadn't dared to build a more robust fire, in case by some remote chance the posse might still be nearby where they would spot the smoke. His worry for Heyes had kept him awake most of the night, tossing and turning on the hard, sun-baked earth. Fatigue finally won out and he fell asleep sometime close to dawn.

When the sun forced him to open his eyes in the morning, he felt groggy, disoriented, and sore in every part of his body. It hadn't helped that he had been forced to go without supper again the night before and that there would be no coffee to help him start the day.

The ride into Gordonville had been uneventful…too uneventful…and in Curry's mind, that could only mean one thing. Heyes was in trouble and Kid wasn't sure what he could do about it. There was still a full day remaining until their scheduled rendezvous. Kid would have liked to have gone after him except for one thing. He had no idea where to start looking. The posse could have taken Heyes to any number of little towns in the area. It seemed like the only option he had was to wait. And Kid was very bad at waiting.

Kid rode alone down Gordonville's only street. There was nothing remarkable about the town; Kid had ridden through what seemed like hundreds of towns just like this one before, most of those times with Heyes at his side. He carefully studied the buildings and the people as he made his way to the only hotel in sight, more than likely the only hotel in town.

The two saloons, livery stable, mercantile, blacksmith's shop…everything he'd come to expect in towns like Gordonville…were all laid out just about where he'd expect to find them. Down the road a little further, he passed the telegraph office and what he thought was a newspaper publisher.

Kid had hoped that he might have been wrong; that Heyes would already be somewhere in Gordonville, waiting for Kid to show up, ready to make some lame joke, wondering why it had taken Kid so long to arrive. But the only people he met on the street were locals; there was not a sign of his partner anywhere. At that moment, he would have given anything to hear one of Heyes' lame jokes.

At the hotel, Kid asked the desk clerk if anyone by the name of Joshua Smith had checked in. "Dark haired fellow, wearing a black hat?"

"No, sir. You're our first customer of the day."

Kid was disappointed by not surprised. By now he was convinced that Heyes had been caught by that posse. Keeping the emotion out of his face or voice, he thanked the desk clerk and went up the stairs to find his room. He needed a little time to think about what he should do next.

Once inside his room, door locked against intruders, Kid sat down heavily on the side of the bed. He was bone-tired from the unrelenting chase he and Heyes had endured for the last few days. Neither one of them had been able to get a decent night's sleep since this whole thing started, grabbing an hour or two whenever they felt safe enough to do so, but even so, Kid didn't think he could sleep now, what with his worry for Heyes' well-being weighing so heavily on his mind. Besides, he needed to take a walk around the town; Heyes might be in one of the saloons, trying to fill an inside straight or making time with some pretty little saloon gal.

Kid awoke with a jolt. The room was dark, the afternoon sunlight that had been streaming through the windows, seemingly just moments before, had given way to a faint glow from the full moon hanging in the sky. He was instantly alert and angry with himself. He hadn't planned on falling asleep and had no recollection of having done so, but there was no question that he had slept and slept for several hours. Kid figured it had to be getting on towards daybreak. That meant he had slept for nearly ten hours. Ten hours he slept while Heyes was who-knows-where, probably needing his help.

Kid sat up in the darkness. He was still fully dressed from the day before. He hadn't even removed his gun belt before falling asleep. He made his way to the bureau next to the door, feeling his way along its surface until he found the matches he knew would be there next to the kerosene lamp. Striking the tip against the box, he lit the match, watching the flame flare up for a second before catching the oil lamp's wick on fire. A dim light filled the small room.

It was quiet in the hotel. It seemed like he was the only one awake at this hour. The solitude bothered him in a way that he was no accustomed to. He normally enjoyed the quiet, sometimes wishing Heyes would just shut up for a while. A sad half-smile crossed his boyishly handsome face as he realized how much, at this moment, he would give just to hear his partner's voice.

Kid hoped the café would open soon. He hadn't eaten for two days, he realized, and if he was going to have any hope of coming up with a plan to find Heyes, he was going to have to have something to eat. He looked out the window, down into the street. He could see the café from where he stood. A soft glow shone through its front window so he knew someone was there, probably preparing for the busy day to come.

Restless, Kid decided to leave his room and take a walk around the town until the café opened. He blew out the lamp and left, locking the door behind himself.

Despite his intentions to walk through the hushed, pre-dawn streets to while away the time, Kid's stomach had other ideas. He was drawn, lost in his thoughts and concern for Heyes, across the street to where the café stood. Next to the door, on which a "Closed" sign hung crookedly, was a bench. Wearily, Kid sat down on this bench. He allowed his head to rest on his hands, elbows on knees. It was from this perspective that he first noticed the pile of newspapers, neatly stacked and tied, ready to be taken into the café for prospective buyers to read while they ate their morning eggs and bacon.

He stared at the bold headline spread across the paper on the top of the stack for a long moment before the words sunk into his conscious brain. His eyes widened, feelings of dread and relief converging inside him. He broke the twine holding the newspapers and read the headline again. "NOTORIOUS OUTLAW CAPTURED". Kid didn't have to read much further to guess who the notorious outlaw was. He scanned the article, the words Hannibal Heyes and San Pasqual catching his attention. San Pasqual was a town not too far to the north of Gordonville. This is where the posse had headed after catching Heyes.

Suddenly the word 'injuries' jumped from the page. Kid's heart skipped a beat as he read…Heyes had been injured during the chase and was out cold when he was brought back to town. The newspaper didn't reveal any more details; except that the law intended to extradite his partner to Wyoming as soon as he was well enough to survive the trip.

His hunger forgotten, Kid hurried over to the livery stable, still locked up tight at the early hour, and got his horse and gear. With single-minded determination, he rode off in the direction of San Pasqual, worry over Heyes' condition the only thing on his mind.

The main street of San Pasqual was buzzing. Word of the arrest of Hannibal Heyes had spread like wildfire through the locals and most of them had turned out to watch as the posse arrived back in town. They were gathered near the sheriff's office to catch a glimpse of the famous outlaw and to hear all the details of the chase and subsequent capture. The men who had been part of the posse were more than happy to share their stories, which were partly based in fact, sprinkled liberally with a good serving of exaggeration.

By the time Heyes had been taken down from his horse, still unconscious, and hauled unceremoniously into a jail cell, nearly everyone in town had listened open-mouthed to at least one version of the event.

The sheriff supervised as two men laid Heyes on the small metal cot in the corner of the hot cell. "He don't look none too good, sheriff," one of the men commented as the three stood back and stared down at Heyes' ashen face.

Sheriff Watkins had to agree. The man lying on the cot didn't look good, not good at all. It appeared that the gash on the back of his head had stopped bleeding somewhere along the line, but Heyes' face shone with a deathly pallor and his breathing was shallow—too shallow. The sheriff was no doctor, but it didn't take medical training to see that this man was hurt bad.

The sheriff was a decent man and although he knew that Heyes was wanted "Dead or Alive", he didn't really want him dying on his watch. "Clyde, go down the street and see if Doc Edwards is in his office. Ask him to come down here and take a look at this boy."

Clyde nodded and left. Watkins and the other man watched Heyes for another minute before leaving the cell, locking the door behind them, although the chance that the prisoner was in any shape to get up and walk away seemed mighty slim.

In fact, Heyes didn't stir at all the rest of that day. Even as the doctor examined him, poking and prodding at the wound on his head; listening to his heart with the cold metal of the stethoscope pressed against the smooth, warm skin of his chest; gently pulling back his upper eyelids and peering into his unresponsive eyes; Heyes lay quiet. Even as the doctor cleaned and dressed the wound; even as he discussed his condition with the sheriff; even as the two men engaged in a heated disagreement on the necessary care of the injured man; Heyes didn't move.

"Head wounds like this one can be very serious…life threatening even. This man needs around-the-clock care."

"I appreciate that, James, but I can't just turn him over to you. What if something happens and he manages to escape?"

In the end, Doc Edwards convinced Sheriff Watkins that the prisoner would be safe and secure in the back room of his office, door locked from the outside and one of the sheriff's best men posted outside the door twenty-four hours a day. So Heyes was moved down the street under the watchful eyes of curious town folk to a bed in the doctor's office; one with a goose feather mattress and soft, well-used cotton sheets.

James Edwards was the town's only doctor. He'd practiced medicine here for the last twenty years. He was respected and well-loved by the community. He and his family lived upstairs from the rooms where he provided health care to the town. Edwards was a widower. His wife had died suddenly several years past, leaving him alone to raise his two children, Jason, now twelve years old, and Theresa, seventeen.

Both children had grown up helping their father in his practice whatever way they could. Since he didn't employ a nurse, Theresa and Jason spent much of their free time helping him care for patients.

The three of them, in turn, spent the rest of that day and the following night by Heyes' bedside, watching for any change. Heyes spent that time oblivious to their diligent care.

Joshua's eyelids fluttered gently, almost imperceptively, as he floated back towards consciousness. Eyes still closed, his brow wrinkled in a frown as he became aware of the throbbing ache in his head. He felt as if he had been trampled on by a horse. His body hurt all over, but the worst of it was centered in his head. With effort, he was able to move his hand to the spot from where the pain seemed to radiate hotly and was surprised to find a thick bandage wrapped around his head. Carefully, his fingers explored the area until he found the raised lump that the wrappings covered. Breath hissed through his teeth and he quickly withdrew his hand. Sparks seemed to shoot through his brain at the slightest movement of his head.

He had no idea where he was or even how he had ended up here. Venturing a glance around what he could see of the room did not provide many clues. The room was small and utilitarian. A small table crowded with bottles and some foreign-looking metal tools was in the corner near his head. The one chair in sight was occupied by a young boy who appeared to be sound asleep.

Joshua studied the boy, wondering who he was. Nothing about him was familiar, but it was strangely comforting just to see him there.

Joshua continued to watch the boy sleep. Slowly, he became aware of muffled voices coming from outside his room. He tried to concentrate on the words, but the pain throbbing through his head hindered his efforts. Little by little, he was able to focus on the voices.

"Doc, I've done it your way long enough. Now I gotta take him back over to the jail."

"Listen, sheriff. He hasn't even woke up yet. I want him to stay here. He still needs a lot of care." Joshua realized that the voices were more than likely talking about him. He listened harder, struggling to make out all the words.

"What are you gonna do if Curry shows up here then? Have you thought of that? Cuz it's only a matter of time before he finds out Heyes is here." Joshua listened, confused, no longer sure who the men outside his room were talking about.

"OK. Just one more day then. How'd that be? Besides, your deputy is still here."

Joshua heard the boy stirring in his chair. Quickly, he closed his eyes, pretending to sleep. He didn't know why he felt it important to conceal the fact that he was awake, he just knew it was.

Kid left Gordonville behind him in the hour before dawn, stopping only long enough to help himself to some food from a house near the outskirts of town. A few hours later, he saw San Pasqual come into view. His stomach tightened. He knew he had to proceed cautiously now. The law would be expecting him to show up to rescue his partner. Kid couldn't help Heyes if he ended up behind bars with him.

He rode into town, avoiding the larger streets, keeping instead to narrow alleyways and side streets. Near the center of town he tied his horse to a post in one of those alleys and proceeded on foot, hat brim shielding his face as much as possible from the glances of other pedestrians.

In this manner, he approached the jailhouse from the rear. The bars on the two windows facing the alley confirmed that he had located the correct building. He figured that one of those two barred windows secured the cell where he would find Heyes.

After watching the area for a few minutes, Kid decided it would be safe to move closer. Furtively, expecting to be spotted at any minute, he sprinted across the alley, coming to a stop at the wall of the jailhouse.

Heart pounding painfully against his ribs, Kid ducked low and peered through the bars on one of the windows. The small cell was empty. He moved to the other window, convinced that he would find Heyes imprisoned behind those bars.

Kid almost stopped breathing when he saw that the second cell stood as empty as the first. Panicky, he feared that Heyes had already been shipped off to Wyoming. He leaned his back against the bricks of the wall, warmed by the summer sun, and closed his eyes, trying to think.

Kid's heart was still drumming in his chest. His thoughts were scrambled in confusion. Where was Heyes? This question kept running through his mind. He stood still for several minutes, eyes closed, concentrating on bringing his emotions back under control.

Once composed, Kid walked quietly towards the street. Keeping close to the building and trying to attract as little attention as possible, he gauged the people he saw, searching for just the right person.

As luck would have it, he didn't have to wait long. A grizzled old gent was weaving his way down the boardwalk, making as straight a course towards Curry as possible given his apparently inebriated state. Kid could smell him almost before he could see him; the sour smell of old tobacco and sweat-stained clothes fairly leapt from his person. Reluctantly, Kid put a hand out and stopped the fellow.

"Hey, I thought I read that your sheriff brought in that outlaw, Hannibal Heyes."

The man looked at him quizzically, trying to pull Kid into focus. Slurring, he replied defiantly, "Yep, that's right. Who wants to know?"

"Ain't nobody. I was just hopin' to get the bounty on that low life for myself. So is he in jail here?"

"You a bounty hunter? Naw, he's not here."

Feigning boredom, with his heart in his throat Kid asked, "So where is he? On his way to Wyoming so soon?"

"Wyoming?" the geezer asked in confusion. "Why would he be in Wyoming? He's over at the doc's. Over there," he gestured vaguely down the street before meandering his way down the sidewalk again, mumbling something about Wyoming under his breath.

Joshua's thoughts were sluggish and this annoyed him. The more he tried to remember how he had ended up here, in this strange bed in a strange room, the fuzzier the memories seemed.

The last thing he remembered was that poker game back in town; how many nights ago was that, he asked himself. Two…Three?

He vaguely remembered that there was some sort of commotion that broke out in the saloon that night and he remembered making a beeline for the door. Joshua's brow wrinkled in concentration. 'What was I running from?' he wondered. It was just a friendly poker game, like dozens of others he had sat in on in the past. What was it that had got him running scared like that?

Joshua was deep into his own thoughts, so deep that he didn't notice that the boy had finally come full awake and now sat watching him silently. When he finally looked up, their eyes met. Joshua smiled at the boy and said, "Hello."

The boy looked a little startled but he nodded cautiously in reply. Hastily, he got up and walked to the door and rapped on it loudly. "Father?" he called. Joshua was perplexed as he heard a key turn in the lock just before it opened. A man stepped into the room.

"Looks like our patient is finally awake, eh Jason?" He smiled at Joshua and said, "I'm Doc Edwards. How are you feeling?"

Joshua frowned. "Terrible."

"Oh? Well, you should be feeling better soon. I'm just glad to see you're finally awake. You've been out for a very long time." The doctor came closer to the bed and began examining his patient, using some of the foreign-looking tools Joshua had noticed lying on the table next to his bed.

"Have I?" Joshua was feeling more confused than ever. "I'm having a little trouble here, Doc. Maybe you can help me…how the heck did I get here. What happened? I don't seem to remember much about what happened to me."

The doctor stopped what he was doing and stared at Heyes. "You don't remember hitting your head?"

"Uh, no. Last thing I remember was sitting at a poker table with a few other fellas. After that…nothing."

"Hm. I don't suppose it's unusual to have some memory loss after suffering such a trauma, Mr. Heyes. I'm sure that—"

"Mr. Smith."

"What?"

"My name is Mr. Smith. Joshua Smith."