A Bump in the Day
Hannibal Heyes didn't know what hit him.
Flat on his back, parallel to the heavens, the grey clouds of an afternoon stalled, as if having hit a wall. Indeed, all motion ceased, save for the stars in his head.
To an unknowing eye, the outlaw leader appeared unconscious, his movement stilled. However, the stirrings beneath the dark hair, though confused, raged.
Where was he? Or, better yet, how did he get here? And why?
Okay, back to the beginning…
Ah, the argument! Him and the men. Over…? Argh! Head hurts. Where was Kid when he needed him?
Right, the men. They'd been holed up all winter and were bored and restless, and wanted some action.
Wait – the plans. A recent traipse through Buffalo to drum the newly established bank. Gold bound for Fort McKinney. Most of the men thought it an adventure, riches beyond what they had ever undertaken. Being cautious, Wheat thought it too brazen – too many soldiers about, and they had not before tangled with martial authorities. Heyes had to agree, but the enthusiasm of the majority of the Devil's Hole Gang prevailed. Despite his misgivings, he surveilled it anyway, wanting to see for himself whether the plan had any merit, what the chances were for pulling it off and returning unscathed.
Meanwhile, Kid Curry had not yet returned from another trip to Coulson. The bank there presented a more traditional target for them – ride in on a Saturday night after all was quiet, crack the safe, get away under cover of darkness, long before anyone discovered the robbery. A foray into Montana Territory was something Heyes thought about from time to time. However, going beyond Wyoming was risky. If they pulled off a robbery there, they would be wanted in two jurisdictions. More concerning, could they afford to lose a safe haven, especially one so close by, just over the border to the north? But, ever since the James and Youngers had ventured off their own beaten track and into Minnesota, the idea had attracted him. He was confident they would succeed where their more Eastern counterparts had not. Coulson looked easy compared to Northfield, and their styles were different.
A brown eye opened, catching a too bright but momentary ray, and just as quickly shut with a grimace. The sun briefly peeked out from behind a wandering cloud, and the leaden grey sky lightened before the orb just as quickly retreated. He breathed more rapidly as a cool breeze chilled him. The ground underneath was cold; he had not noticed it until now.
He willed his breathing to regulate. Thoughts hastened. Plans continued to roll through his mind.
Perhaps the timing was not yet right for Buffalo or Coulson. Both were too likely to put them in harm's way more than usual. Maybe something even closer to home or a bit further afield; Casper was another place they had never hit and seemed ripe for the taking. Staying in Wyoming had its advantages. Spring had just sprung. Everyone was ready to ride, eager to shake off the winter doldrums and come down from the Hole – get some jingle in their pockets. A long, cold season left them bored and tired of sitting around. The hint of warmth had them stirring, ready to start the robbing season, even if white patches remained scattered about.
Hank had suggested moseying on down to a nearby stage route. Toward the end of the month, a guard riding shotgun was along for the trip, whereas most other times a lone driver sufficed. It was likely easy enough pickings to whet the men's appetites and keep them satisfied until the next job.
Or maybe they should just stay put. Wait! Hadn't he just had this conversation with himself recently, only a short while ago? Why were these same thoughts swirling, invading his … daydreams?
Heyes shook his head, stirred. His eyes flew open as if just being woken from a restless sleep – a considered, though thoughtful, nightmare. He peered at the sky, looked about, observed his horse quietly grazing on sparse grass nearby.
Ouch! A gloved hand rushed to his jaw – it hurt! Ran his tongue along his teeth; they were all there, and none seemed loose. The stars in his field of vision had lessened, and he now beheld the canopy of bare brown and coniferous green overhead. A certain branch mocked him.
Ah, understanding! He smirked, rolled his eyes simultaneously with his body. Now prone on his belly, he closed his lids tightly against the dizziness from the motion, opening them quickly at the sound of a horse's approach. A familiar sorrel greeted his own chestnut as his partner – two? – came into view.
Kid Curry jumped down, swiftly appearing at Heyes' side. "Can't leave ya on your own for a few days without you gettin' into trouble, huh?"
The dark-haired man grunted as he locked arms with his partner and staggered to his feet. He closed his eyes tightly to let the world stop spinning.
"You okay?"
Heyes slowly opened one eye, then the other. Curry now appeared as one.
"Heyes?"
"Yeah?"
"What're ya doin' out here by yourself?"
The outlaw leader sighed. "Taking a ride."
The blond man grinned. "On the ground?" He bent to retrieve his partner's hat.
Taking it, Heyes pressed it onto his head. "Argh!" He paused until the momentary lightheadedness subsided. "I needed to think without all the men around."
"So, you decided to take a nap, without a bedroll?"
"No." Heyes' hand again shot to his jaw.
Curry removed the bandana from his pocket. He spit on it before wiping his partner's chin. "That's a nasty cut and it's bleedin'."
"I know." Another grimace. "Watch it, will ya!" He moved away from Kid's ministrations.
The blue eyes danced as he eyed a large branch hanging lower than the rest. "Were you thinkin' too much you weren't payin' attention?"
"Maybe."
Curry chuckled. "Uh huh. Heyes, I told ya all that thinkin' would get ya into trouble someday. You're lucky I came along when I did. Can't leave ya for two seconds…"
"Enough!"
Kid backed off a step, palms up. "Calm down. Just kiddin'."
"Sorry." Heyes whacked a hand to his thigh and dust flew. "Told ya, I just needed to get away. The men…"
Curry nodded. "Uh huh. The men're wantin' some action, and you needed to think."
"Something like that. What'd you think of Coulson?"
The blond man shrugged. "Pretty straightforward. Should be easy enough. But, Montana? I'm not so sure about that."
"Me neither."
Kid re-pocketed the bandana. "You thinkin' better 'bout that gold shipment to Fort McKinney?"
Heyes finished dusting himself off. "Nope. Hate to admit it, but I think Wheat's right about that one. I don't like the idea of messing with soldiers."
Curry raised a brow. "I don't either."
"How about Hank's stage?"
"I don't know. We don't do stages." Kid eyed his partner. "Heyes, who says we need to do anything right now? It's still snowin' some at night. Maybe we should wait 'til it's warmer and ya have a better idea 'bout what we should do."
Heyes smiled. "That's where my thoughts were taking me, Kid. The men'll just have to hole up a while longer. Let's get on outta here and get back. I could use some coffee."
Two partners mounted up and rode, more carefully this time, back to the Hole.
~~00oo00~~
Notes: The town of Coulson, Montana was established in 1877 and a precursor to Billings, where a city park now encompasses the ground on which it stood.
In 1876, the James-Younger Gang ventured into Minnesota and met its end at Northfield, where citizens stood their ground, fighting back after a bank robbery and several murders, delaying the gang's escape. Two members were killed in Northfield, and the posse caught up with four others, killing another, while the James boys escaped. Badly wounded, the three Younger brothers were sentenced to 25 years in prison because Minnesota did not have a death penalty. Although the James Gang subsequently re-formed with new recruits, its glory days were behind them.