Slight revision to this chapter as of January 1, 2014.
Having finished meeting Aunt Bertha; Heyes, Beth, Jed, and Cat went up to unpack their luggage in their hotel rooms on the next floor up. "Nice aunt you got there! She's a real prize." the Kid said to Beth as they went down the hall on the third floor, the couples happily holding hands.
"She and Aunt Sadie were like a pair of mothers to Barbara and me when we were growing up," answered Beth. "Over the years, I've told her as much about you boys as I've dared to. She's fun, but she's discrete. I'm glad that we can be fully honest with her at last."
The two couples found their rooms a little smaller than they were used to out west, but nicely furnished with comfortable four-poster beds and frilly curtains. It didn't take long to put their things away in the handsome chests of drawers with which both rooms were furnished. Soon Beth said to Heyes, "Honey, I'd better go talk to Barbara and learn what I can so you won't be in the dark when you talk to Curtis this evening."
Heyes looked up from his new suitcase to catch Beth's eyes. "Thanks, honey. I sure feel bad sometimes with the fix I've put you in. I wish you could have just a regular husband who never was wanted dead or alive."
Beth gazed at her husband in pure adoration. "I wouldn't trade you for any man ever born, Mr. Heyes. Honestly, think how dull anyone else would be by comparison. So don't you worry, we'll figure it out together."
Heyes grinned happily. "That's a good thing, Mrs. Heyes, 'cause I sure wouldn't ever swap you for anybody. Nobody else understands the way my poor old gun-shot mind works - not even me."
Beth put her arms around her husband from behind, and he turned and kissed her. "Hm, excuse me, honey, I'll be back," said Beth.
Beth found her sister in the hotel's big old-fashioned kitchen stirring a beef stew that smelled delicious as it bubbled in an iron kettle over the fire in the vast brick fireplace. The two brown-eyed, brown-haired women looked very much alike, although Barbara was younger, more slender, and a little taller. Beth spoke softly, although the little girls were off playing in the backyard under a tree and there was no one but the two sisters in the kitchen. "Barbara! What's this with not telling your children who their uncles really are? The girls may not be old enough for it to make any difference, but Curtis is easily old enough. And if anyone from the law thought Heyes was purposefully using Joshua as an alias like he used to, he'd be imprisoned for the rest of his life."
Barbara turned around, aghast. "Oh my goodness, Beth! I'm sure Corey didn't mean to put Heyes in danger. Could what the children call him really cause him legal trouble? We could hardly have the children call him 'Uncle Heyes,' could we?"
Beth raised her eyebrows. "Why not? I'll bet he wouldn't mind. I'll ask him."
Barbara nodded, turning back to her pot. "You told me how much he hates the name Hannibal. I don't suppose I can blame him, considering what it's come to mean. But seriously, do you think we can have at least the little ones call him Joshua?"
"As long as nobody uses 'Joshua' outside your family and it's clear that Heyes isn't deceiving anyone, I suppose it'll be alright. I'll ask him how he feels about it. Of course, Heyes wasn't going to contradict Corey in front of the children. But please be careful around the hotel guests and the help. Just have them call him Mr. Heyes." Beth was still worried.
"I will," Barbara assured her older sister. "But you need to know – before we knew who Heyes and Jed were, Curtis read some dime novels about them. And you know what a precocious reader he is – he read that new grown-up novel on the boys, as well. He's a pretty enthusiastic fan of both of them."
Beth looked very anxious, "Oh dear! That does make it hard. It's a novel – not fact. My husband and his partner knew the author many years ago, but only a small amount of what he wrote is even distantly based on facts."
Barbara sounded worried as well, "We've tried to make sure Curtis knows not to trust everything he reads in those novels – or any novels. But the boy's been reading everything he can find in the papers about the murder trial. He was heartbroken when the armed robbery trial went against them. He still doesn't know that the boys were let out – it hasn't been in the papers all the way out here. Corey, of course, doesn't want his son to have criminals as heroes. So he's always spoken against the Devil's Hole boys. He's tried to soften his line since we got home, but we haven't dared to tell Curtis the whole truth yet. We thought it would be better for Heyes and Jed to tell him themselves. He'll have a lot of questions that only they can answer."
"That's true. Idolizing someone in books is one thing – knowing them in person is another. Heyes has a dear friend who used to read those dime novels and then turned on the man himself furiously when he found out who he really was. They sorted it out long ago, but the boys have learned to be careful. I can see where you and Corey would worry about how to tell Curtis about his uncles. I just hope the boy doesn't make it hard for his father. The son isn't the only one with a lot to learn."
Beth's sister looked compassionately at her. "I'll speak to Corey about it - again. He's trying not to be unfair to his new brother-in-law and his cousin. But Corey worries about you, and about the children. And me. You know how protective he is. He has a hard time trusting anyone with that kind of past."
Beth smiled at her younger sister. "I know. I did, too, as I told you. Corey's a good man. But so is my husband, and so is his partner. I'd better go and talk to them, and to Cat. I think they'll tell Curtis what they need to after dinner tonight, once the girls are in bed. If they wait any longer to tell him, your son could hear it anywhere. Heyes and Jed will be having to give their last names a lot while they're here. Word will get around. But I'll ask the boys to stay around the hotel today, where they can get along on Joshua and Jed, until they've talked to Curtis."
Barbara said, "Alright, Beth. We didn't expect the boys to be able to wait long to tell Curtis. I just hope it works out the way they want it to. It's not easy for any of us to live with legends, is it?"
"Least of all for the legends themselves," replied Beth.
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Even as Beth was talking to her sister, Heyes was walking down the hotel's front staircase to the lobby. He found Corey at the front desk checking in a young couple. While Curtis was following the new customers up the stairs with their luggage, the retired outlaw found the momentary privacy to have a quiet word with his new brother-in-law. He leaned close so wouldn't have to speak loudly. "Corey, you know we have to tell Curtis about us tonight, right?"
"Yeah, Heyes," said Corey. "I know you got to. But I want you to know that I don't like my son to think well of criminals."
Heyes was patient and calm. "Of course not. I'd feel the same in your place. But we aren't criminals any longer. We haven't been since Curtis was a baby."
Corey stood up from the desk to face Heyes, his face flushing, "I know that. I respect that you want to do the right thing. But that people should treat you like it all never happened . . . like you never robbed all those folks . . . like you went straight and now it's all hunky-dory . . ." The hotel-keeper's voice began to rise in anger.
Heyes broke in on him, "If we could turn back the clock, man, believe me . . .!" The two men fell silent as they saw Curtis coming back down the stairs. Heyes turned abruptly and went out the front door. He had to go someplace and cool down before he faced Corey or Curtis again. He looked over at the saloon next door, but didn't dare to enter the place. Coming back to the hotel with liquor on his breath would only make things worse. Instead, Heyes pulled up a rocking chair on the hotel's big shady porch and sat down. It would have been pleasant just to sit there on such a pretty late spring day, if circumstances had been different. Heyes looked across the street at the town's general store and contemplated how much Cheat was like a little western town. There were a lot more trees around, and it was greener than in many places in the West. The road had mud where a western town would have had dust. But aside from that, Cheat was missing only the tumble weeds and cowboys. There was even the familiar ringing sound of the blacksmith shoeing a horse just down the street. And feeling trapped by his past was just as familiar to the former outlaw.
Curtis came to stand silently beside his new uncle. "What can I do for you, Curtis?" asked Heyes, knowing too well what the answer would be. Curtis looked into his uncle's brown eyes apprehensively, but didn't speak for a moment. "You don't have anything to be afraid of, boy."
Finally Heyes' nephew asked, very quietly, with his eyes darting from Heyes to the door of the hotel, "What were you and Pa arguing about, Uncle, um, Joshua?"
"We weren't arguing, we were just having a discussion . . ." When Heyes saw the disappointed look in his nephew's eyes, he gave Curtis a wry smile and started again. "Alright, yeah, we were arguing."
Curtis spoke softly, but his question was direct. "Pa doesn't like you, does he?"
Heyes was careful to keep eye contact with Curtis, not wanting it to look like he was avoiding any questions. "Not much. He doesn't know us real well yet. He just knows that I don't have a job and Beth does. But I only graduated a few days ago. It takes a while to get a post as a professor."
"I guess. But that's not what you were fighting about, is it?"
"No." Heyes was surprised at the boldness of this boy he had taken to be rather shy.
Curtis's blue eyes got very big and he spoke in a rapid whisper. "Was it about . . . who you and Uncle Jed really are?"
Heyes froze with his right hand near the gun at his hip. His eyes quickly scanned the dusty small town street and checked the hotel's front door. There was no one close enough to hear them, so he replied in a voice just above a whisper. "Yes. We've got to talk about that, but not here where anybody could come along. Jed and I won't keep anything from you, but we have to be careful."
Curtis nodded. "Ma and Pa didn't tell me anything, but I read the newspapers, and books." That told Heyes more than enough.
Heyes stood up, putting his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Let's go talk, Curtis." He gave the boy what he intended as an encouraging smile, but Curtis could see how tense his uncle was.
Heyes, with his nephew at his side, strode into the hotel lobby. He went to the front desk. "Dunham, we can't wait for tonight. We have to talk now. You've got a real smart boy here, and he's been doing some figuring. I'm not going to lie to him and neither is Jed."
"Alright . . ." Corey Dunham pointedly left a gap where he would have said Heyes' name. "I don't want to lie, either. I'll get our man Willie to watch the desk and Barbara can get some of the kitchen help to watch the girls. We'll meet in our private parlor, in the back of the second floor, next door to Bertha's room."
Heyes nodded. "I'll get Jed. I think the girls are in the kitchen, if you can get them. Thanks, Corey. See you in five minutes, Curtis."
"Thank you, Uncle. . ," said Cutis, leaving the name hanging. There was an excited light in the eight-year-old's eyes. Heyes had no doubt that Curtis had guessed his uncles' real names correctly.
The Kid was in an armchair in his room, enjoying a cup of steaming coffee. He looked up from his coffee to see Heyes leaning in the doorway of his room. His partner, wearing boots and a gun, with his face shaded by his old black hat, looked very much like the fugitive Heyes of years before. Then as Heyes looked up, the fading red cut on his cheek came into view, reminding the Kid of how many things had changed since them. Heyes had his briefcase with him. The Kid could guess what was in it.
Heyes looked his partner in the eye. "Curtis has figured us out already. He didn't say the names, but he talked about books and newspapers. We're gonna meet in his parents' parlor, a floor down and in the back, in five minutes. Well, more like four, now."
Curry sighed and put down his coffee cup. "He's a smart boy, but I guess he's got the inside information to give him a few advantages on the figuring. I'll go find the girls."
Heyes stood up straight. "Don't bother. Corey's found them by now."
The Kid stood up and went to stand by his partner. "Probably all together in the kitchen. Why are women always in the kitchen when you want 'em?"
"Cooking for men," laughed Heyes.
"Or gossiping about us," Curry chuckled back.
The men shared a long look. Heyes looked tense. "This is about the last time we're gonna have this much control over our names. Word's gonna spread like wildfire in a little jerk-water town like this. And it'll go on from there."
"I guess. Let's go, Uncle Joshua. Did Corey ask you before he used that name on you?"
"No. We'll get it straightened out, but oh brother, it'll be touchy." Heyes rolled his eyes as the men fell into step down the hall.
"Or bother-in-law," said Curry with a mocking gleam in his eye.
"Very funny," remarked Heyes sarcastically.
The two partners went down the stairs together, noisy in their boots. They found Curtis waiting for them at the stair landing. He gave them an eager look and then turned to follow his parents in their door.
The adults gathered in ladder back chairs and on the sofa. Aunt Bertha had come to join them, looking stately on an overstuffed chair. Curtis stood, looking around at his elders, licking his lips nervously. Aunt Bertha said, in her slightly quavering voice, "Curtis, you are a brave boy. And a smart one. We all know that. So don't you worry."
"Thank you, ma'am," said Curtis, ducking his head shyly.
"Alright, Curtis, who do you think we are?" asked Heyes calmly.
The boy didn't say a word. "Don't be scared," said Curry. "We don't bite."
Curtis looked at his mother, who nodded. The boy said, "I'd like to tell you why before I say it. If you don't mind."
"Fine with me. It would have been my second question anyhow," said Heyes. "And I'll bet you know why I'd ask, too." The Kid nodded his agreement.
Curtis began softly but steadily, "I read in the local newspaper about your – the murder trial – of Hannibal Heyes – in Montana. In the stuff about the trial they said that Heyes was in graduate school in New York. They got the school and the subject wrong, so it threw me off for a while. But they said he had been at an aphasia clinic in New York and studied with a woman and was engaged to her. They didn't give the name of the clinic or the teacher, but it sounded right for Aunt Beth and her fiancé to me. How many western guys would get engaged to a woman at an aphasia clinic in New York? A friend I told thought I was day-dreaming, but it all fit so well. Heyes was in New York at just the right time for Aunt Beth's student from Colorado – just the right years. Newspapers can make mistakes, like anybody. Heyes said math stuff at the trial – he – you - had to be studying math, not physics. And then it would be at Columbia, not New York University." Heyes nodded. The boy was pretty astute. Every adult was paying rapt attention to this carefully told story by this young boy. His voice was rising with emotion and he spoke more rapidly as he went on.
"And the paper said how Heyes got off, but how he and the Kid got arrested and taken off to Wyoming after the trial to stand trial on armed robbery. And then they got thrown into prison. I know Ma and Pa were upset because of something about Aunt Beth right about then. And I even remember things being upset with Aunt Beth right when they said the shooting took place." Barbara Dunham nodded for her son to go on.
"And, and, then here you are – with short hair, both of you, like they shaved your heads in prison. And that cut on your face, Uncle, like something that could happen in prison. And you're both wearing cowboy hats and guns tied down on your hips, like professional gunmen." The Kid and Heyes both nodded. Heyes looked at his cousin, who looked back.
"The only thing is, why aren't you guys in prison in Wyoming? So I figured you must have got – must have gotten – amnesty. And a pardon for the robbery charge. Right? And then Columbia let Heyes graduate. And then you all four got married, with Ma and Pa there. Right? Right?"
The Kid nodded again. He spoke in a slow western drawl, like the character out of a western dime novel that he was, "Appears to me, this boy has us dead to rights, Heyes."
Heyes nodded back. "He sure does, Kid. Every last detail, on the nose." He smiled at Curtis. "And he won't be the only one, now that the story's hitting the papers at last."
Curtis's eyes were as big as saucers. "You mean I'm right? You really are Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry?" He asked breathlessly.
Heyes laughed softly, "What, you don't believe your own argument? Of course you're right! Here's a New York newspaper from this morning with a story about the amnesty, and the wedding, and – by the way - Curtis, how your Uncle Jed out-shot Buffalo Bill's fast-draw champion on our wedding day. It's by a western journalist out of Wyoming by the name of Harriott Sparhawk. Never heard of her before, but she's got her facts better than anybody I've ever seen. Some of the facts are from New York and some from out West, and she put them all together. Made a good story of it. There are a couple of wrong details, but I know where she got them – from the same source as the stories about the trial that you read, Curtis." Heyes reached into his briefcase and handed Curtis the newspaper, folded to expose the story in question. Curtis took the paper eagerly. Heyes was jealous of how rapidly the boy could read. He was a lot faster than his academic but still slightly aphasic uncle.
When Curtis looked up from the article, Heyes took it back and put in back into his briefcase. And then he took out a thick sheaf of official papers. "And you know what this is, Curtis?" Heyes asked.
Curtis shook his head. Heyes handed him the papers. "Careful with those, boy. They're life or death to me."
"Mine are just like that, too, Curtis," said the Kid.
Curtis looked up at his uncle in awe. He looked at the papers, carefully, one by one. He was breathing fast. "Your amnesty papers! And the pardon! With all those seals and stamps! Golly! You want to see, Ma, Pa, Aunt Bertha?"
Aunt Bertha smiled, but spoke severely. "Now Curtis, you ask your uncle for permission before you go handing around his valuable papers like that. You just heard him say how important they are."
"I'm sorry, Uncle – gosh, what do you want me to call you? It says you can't use your alias anymore for any purpose."
Heyes gave a rather sad little smile. "No, I can't. I don't suppose it will hurt anything for the little girls to call me Uncle Joshua, so long as you older folks know who I really am and nobody's deceived. But for you, Curtis, how about Uncle Heyes? That suit you?"
"Wow! It sure does. And only I can call you that, in all the world?"
Heyes said, "Well, your sisters could, too, if they like. But you're my only nephew. Our only nephew. So the Kid and I are kinda' excited about you. They say you've got no cousins – yet."
"Yet?" asked Curtis. All the adults laughed at that.
"Might be we'll fix that, by and by, Curtis," smiled the Kid, with a fond look at his pregnant wife. And Heyes smiled at Beth and touched her hand. Curtis, catching on to what they meant, blushed hard.
But the boy was not abashed for long. He looked back and forth between his infamous Uncles and asked, "Uncle Heyes, Uncle Jed, can I tell my friends who you are?"
"Sure," said the Kid. "It's the truth. Like you saw in those papers, we got to tell the truth now."
But Heyes held up a hand. "Wait a minute, Jed, before you give out our names all over the place like that. Corey, do you know if the amnesty poster's up in your sheriff's office or police office or whatever you've got here in Cheat?"
Corey nodded. "Yeah, it is. In the sheriff's office. I went to look. They took down the wanted posters and put up the, whatever you want to call it, the thing about your amnesty right where they were." Corey Dunham didn't sound particularly gleeful at this news.
"Our wanted posters used to be up here? In West Virginia?" asked the Kid in surprise.
"Yeah!" said Curtis. "I saw them! But can I tell my friends, now that the amnesty thing is up?"
"Well, maybe, but I've got another question," said Heyes. "The amnesty hasn't gotten into the local paper yet, has it?"
"No, it hasn't, yet," said Barbara, "so maybe you'd both better be careful. All it would take would be one excited guy with a gun who didn't know about the amnesty and thought he could get $30,000 from putting a bullet in each of you . . ."
"I agree with you," said the Kid, "so Curtis, can you please, please sit on our real names until the amnesty's in the newspaper here?"
Corey looked outraged. "Curry, he's just a boy! That's a big secret."
"I trust him," said Heyes matter-of-factly.
"I do, too," said the Kid.
"I'll keep your secret, Uncle Jed, Uncle Heyes. I will – cross my heart and hope to die!" said Curtis stoutly.
"Thank you," said Curry. "We surely do appreciate that. I hope it won't be long."
"And Curtis," added Heyes solemnly, "When you are able to talk about us, I just ask you to be kind of careful. You don't ever want to come across as bragging about being related to us. That would make you look pretty bad. If you want to, you might be proud of a sheriff and a professor. But don't you ever be proud of a pair of dirty outlaws, alright?"
That seemed to satisfy Corey, whose fierce look started to ebb. "Alright, Uncle Heyes," said Curtis. "After what I read in the papers, I'm proud of you both for what you did after you went straight. But I've got a question for Aunt Beth. You'd really marry an outlaw? That doesn't seem like you."
"No, I wouldn't, Curtis," said Beth, shame-facedly. "You're right. After Heyes finished up at the clinic and went to college, we started seeing each other. But when Heyes told me who he really was, I'm afraid I left him. However, we stayed friends. We wrote back and forth when I was taking care of your great aunts in Maryland, but we didn't see each other."
"Until you came back to me when I really needed you, honey," said Heyes, taking his wife's hand, "When I was lying in a hospital bed almost dead of pneumonia and an infected bullet wound. But we didn't get married until the amnesty and the pardon came through."
Curtis had lots of other questions he wanted to ask all about that, but there was a cry up the stairs from Willie. Corey was needed at the front desk. And Barbara needed to go take charge of her little daughters. So the family meeting broke up.
"Wow, I have outlaw uncles!" said Curtis to himself as his parents left the room. "Gee!"
Corey turned back to his son. "Son, you've got chores to do. And remember what your Uncle said – don't you be bragging about dirty outlaws in the family."
Barbara went and found Heyes in his room after that. Little Charlotte and Virginia were with her, so she couldn't talk openly. She just handed Heyes a letter, saying, "Uncle Joshua, this came for you. We're glad to have your mail routed here this week, don't you worry. Hope it's good news! And I hope the name on the address doesn't cause you any trouble."
Beth and Heyes looked intently at the letter, which was addressed to "Mr. Hannibal Heyes." It came from Governor Joseph O'Toole of Montana. The pair read the letter breathlessly. It said, "Mr. Heyes, your reasoning makes sense to me. So long as you are fully honest about your identity to all with whom you have dealings, I have no objection to your taking any middle name that you please. I wish you the very best with your academic applications. Please do keep me informed of your progress. I wish that I could tell you of any suitable position announcements in Montana, but I have not heard of any thus far."
"Whew!" said Heyes. "One down and three to go."
"Oh, honey, that's great news!" said Beth. "And quickly, too, for a governor. I hope I'll be able to call you Joshua soon. Not that I don't like Heyes, because I surely do."
It was almost dinner time, so the hotel was busy as dinner preparations got underway. It wasn't until after dinner, during which the little girls were distracting everyone's attention, that Curtis got to talk to his outlaw uncles again. Once Barbara had put the little girls in bed, the boys, Cat, Beth, Barbara, Corey, and Curtis got to sit down again in privacy and peace. Aunt Bertha had already gone to bed. "Curtis," said Jed, "I think you had a question for me that I didn't have time to answer earlier. When the wagon pulled up here."
While being thrilled about learning who his uncles were, Curtis had almost forgotten the hair-raising story of how his uncles had come to be orphaned. "Oh yeah. Uncle Heyes said how brave you were and how you saved his life when you were boys."
"When our families were killed in the Border Wars," said Heyes. "The fighting had been going on a few years by then, but hit our area in 1861 and the beginning of 1862."
Curtis looked at his father and then his mother before he asked, "Yes. What happened?"
"I ain't gonna tell you the particulars, boy," said the Kid. "It's not real nice stuff. All you need know is that those bad men killed my Ma and Pa, and Heyes' Ma and Pa and all our brothers and sisters. And burned out houses and barns. Your uncle and I – we were out fishing. We came back . . ."
Heyes took up the story. "We saw the smoke. Other families had gotten burned out before ours. So we knew what the signs were. We tried to follow the border ruffians who did all the killings."
Curry took up the tale again. "But they shot at us. A slug caught my cousin here in the shoulder. So I stayed there and looked after him. I found an old farm shed and got him into it. Bullet went right through him, thank goodness. I was younger than you are now. No way I could've dug a bullet out of his shoulder."
Heyes looked gratefully at his cousin. "But Jed found food for me and cleaned my wound and kept me alive. He was only seven. I still don't know how he managed to keep me alive, and him, too."
Curtis, too, turned to Jed Curry, "How did you do all that, Uncle Jed?"
Curry could feel not only the boy but his parents listening. "I trapped some prairie hens and jack rabbits the way my Pa taught me to do. But it wasn't enough – everybody else was after the same critters. And it was winter, so there wasn't much on the prairie to eat."
"Wasn't there anyone who would help you?" asked Barbara.
Jed looked troubled as he remembered. "No. There weren't many folks left alive around after that, and they'd lost pretty much everything they had. I was little and could run fast. So what little they had – I stole."
Curtis's eyes were round, but he didn't say anything. Heyes could see his brother-in-law thinking about these long ago events, too, and what they meant for the men who had just married into his family.
Heyes nodded. "Yeah, it was steal or starve. And no parents or anybody else to set us straight. I'm afraid I didn't much care where the food came from, as long as we got something to eat every two or three days."
Curtis was stunned. "Only every two or three days? You must have been starving!"
Heyes nodded. "Yeah, not what you usually mean by that word but really. Not just hungry. Starving."
Jed went on, "Finally, the Union Army showed up. I got a bit from 'em here and there, but they were hungry, too. They took every bite there was in the country and took to chasing me off pretty fierce."
Heyes' eyes looked bleak as he continued the story, "When we couldn't get anything from the army; there just wasn't anything left. I don't remember a whole lot of deals."
"You wouldn't, Heyes. Even hurt as he was, he turned down food so I could eat, Curtis," said Jed Curry, looking pointedly away from his cousin.
"Wow, that was nice of you!" said Curtis.
"Maybe. I don't recall," said Heyes, looking down and refusing to make eye contact with anyone.
Jed added, "Finally, the army got sick of chasing us off. They took us and turned us in to a place called the Valparaiso Home for Waywards. Guess we really were pretty wayward by then."
"Is that how it happened? I'd forgotten," said Heyes bleakly. "What I do recall was that it was a bad place. Little food, little teaching, little warmth in winter. Lot of work."
Curtis said in amazement, "It sounds like the orphanage in Oliver Twist."
"Huh?" Jed was puzzled.
But Beth smiled. She knew what her nephew meant. Heyes did, too. He said, "Yeah, I guess it was. But the work was on a ranch, so kind of different work."
Jed said, "After we got some food in us, we spent most of our time running away."
"And getting caught and taken back and beaten," added Heyes. "Finally, Jed and I had had enough. We stole horses and rode off so far they never could get us back."
"How old were you?" asked Corey.
"I was 15 and Jed was 13. So then we were starving again. Nobody wanted to help out a couple of skinny, ignorant kids who looked so disreputable. I did what work I could, but I wasn't much of a provider for poor little Jed. A lot of the time we had no place to stay, nothing to eat, rags to wear."
Jed stoutly defended Heyes from his own guilt, "You did fine, partner. Nobody could've done better. And I did what I could."
Heyes smiled at his cousin, "You sure did work hard, for a skinny little guy."
There was a long quiet moment. Finally, Curtis said, "So how did you get to be outlaws?"
"We were about to starve to death in Texas one time, when a guy came and got us and took us back to his place for some food," said Jed. "He and his friends fed us pretty good, gave us clothes to wear, horses to ride."
Heyes spoke reluctantly as he continued the story, "Then he asked us to help out with what he and his friends were doing. We weren't happy, but they made it real clear that if we didn't help, they'd throw us out to starve."
"What didn't you want to do?" asked Corey.
"Help them get the loot away from a train robbery," said Heyes with a bitter edge to his voice.
"It was a gang?" Curtis was transfixed.
"Yeah, Curtis. That's how we first joined a gang," said Heyes. "We did the simple stuff, at first. Then they figured out what a great shot the Kid was. And that I had a few skills, myself."
Curtis's eyes were shining as he whispered, "Uncle Jed, are you really the fastest gun in the West?"
The Kid shrugged. "I haven't faced every gunman in the West. I've beat the ones I've faced, but you never know who's next and how fast he'll be. Nobody wins out forever. There are holes in me, but not from guys I've faced down. Not yet. And when the guys I've beat got friends around, Heyes draws and keeps guard on me."
"But I thought you didn't shoot guys, Uncle Jed?" said Curtis in puzzlement.
"I'll tell you his secret, Curtis," said Heyes in a stage whisper, leaning close to his nephew. "He's so fast, he doesn't have to shoot guys he's facing down. He gets his gun out and cocked and aimed at them before they can draw. So he doesn't generally even have to pull the trigger. When he does, he just wings them so they can't shoot him or me." Heyes chuckled happily and returned to speaking at a normal volume, "And he's d . . . real accurate, too. The other day he beat a German champion. And I mean beat him bad. The Kid was out of practice and hadn't even shot at targets before and he beat this Colonel who was in good practice and been shooting targets his whole life. The man beat me, but the Kid had him dead to rights."
The Kid grinned. "That German - he didn't beat Heyes bad – and Heyes was out of practice way worse than me. Nobody ever gives Heyes credit for his good shooting, outside of that courtroom in Montana. You should have seen him, Beth – every shot in the gold and quick as any sheriff going."
Beth's eyes shone and she put an arm around her husband. "I wish I could have been there, Heyes, to see you."
"Ha! To see me lose," muttered Heyes, but he took Beth's hand.
"Pa," said Curtis, "you said you would teach me to shoot soon. Do you think Uncle Jed could teach me some, if he would?"
Corey looked appraisingly at Jed Curry. "Well, Curry, you interested?" he asked as if in challenge. "I'm not saying yes, but I'm not saying no – until I know more."
"What've you taught him already about guns?" asked Jed, looking at Corey cautiously.
"Tell him, Curtis," said Corey, proudly, "tell him what I've taught you."
Curtis spoke with calm confidence. "Pa taught me never to touch a gun if I don't have to. To always assume a gun is loaded. Never to point a gun at anyone. Never to play with a gun. Always keep a gun locked up safely if you aren't using it. And to carry a pistol with two hands."
Curry nodded. "Good. That's real good, Curtis. Got to start with safety before you ever shoot, and stick with it. You ever go against any of that?"
"No sir!" said Curtis. "Never. Pa'd tan my hide if I did."
"Worse than that, boy, you might not live, or somebody else might not," said the Kid. "Guns make it way too easy to hurt people and kill people. You could make the mistake and someone else could pay. You got that?"
"Yes sir," whispered Curtis.
Curry nodded again. "And you're never too old to pay attention to the rules. I ought to know. I broke one a few years ago and someone else paid. I'll never forgive myself."
"What was the rule, Curry?" asked Corey, horrified to discover this about a man even he had assumed was flawless with a gun.
"My pa taught me to always make sure everyone was clear before I pulled the trigger – or everyone I wasn't out to shoot. I didn't know where my partner was, but I pulled the trigger anyhow. Heyes'll limp for the rest of his life, I expect."
"Limp? I do not limp!" said Heyes fiercely. Then he sounded less certain. "Do I?"
The Kid looked at Heyes sadly, "Yeah, partner, when you're tired, you do. A little. From that bullet I put in your hip on that train."
Heyes sighed impatiently, "Kid, I wish you'd stop apologizing for that. You'd just gotten shot in the trigger arm. And there was a guy with his gun pointed at your heart just a few feet away and he was gonna pull the trigger. You had to shoot or die and you know it."
The Kid flared up, "How do you know, Heyes? You were lying on the floor in the dark, dying of pneumonia."
His partner answered patiently, "Because it's what you told me, Kid. And I trust you more than anyone."
"After I shot you and you almost died?" Curry still sounded angry at himself.
Heyes nodded crisply. "Yeah, Jed. You've learned more than one lesson, and so have I."
"So, you still want me to teach your son, Corey?" Jed asked their host.
Corey stopped and thought, looking from his son to Kid Curry and back again. "Well, Curtis, do you want to learn from a man with that kind of experience?"
Curtis stopped and looked into the cool blue eyes of the most famous gunman in the United States. Then he looked at his father. He spoke in a whisper. "Yes, please, sir. You always said you learn best from mistakes – though maybe somebody else's."
Corey laughed. "Alright, son. You can start tomorrow, if Mr. Curry is ready."
Jed asked, "Do you have a light rifle? I've only got pretty heavy hardware with me – fit for a sheriff - much too heavy for a boy to start on."
Corey nodded, "Yeah, I've got a little rim-fire cut down to fit a boy. It was mine when I was Curtis's age."
Curry studied the man. "You keep it safe out of the way?"
Corey didn't hesitate. "Yes, of course I do. I won't ever leave a gun around for my boy or some visiting child, or a criminal, to come across."
"Good. Then we can start whenever you're ready, Curtis."
Curtis looked as if all his best dreams were coming true. His father tousled his hair and Curtis looked up at his Pa proudly.
Then Curtis looked back at Heyes, who'd been silent throughout all the talk about guns. Jed said, "Curtis, you know who taught me to shoot?"
"You pa?"
"He died when I was younger than you, so he didn't have time to teach me much past the safety stuff we just talked about. The man who taught me the most was Heyes."
"Really?" Curtis looked at Heyes again, with even more respect.
"I gave him the basics, in a field out back of the Home, calling on what my pa and his had taught me," said Heyes quietly, "But the Kid rode with some pretty slick gunslingers over the years – I'm sure they polished him up a lot more than I did."
"Just the fancy stuff, Heyes. What you taught me is what matters," said the Kid. "Hope you can come out with us and make sure I teach Curtis right. Huh, Professor?"
Heyes nodded. "Sure thing. Wouldn't miss it. You just pay attention, Curtis. Remember – the most important thing is how and when not to shoot. And that's most of the time."
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"Uncle Joshua?"
Heyes jerked awake. The dim light told him that it was very, very early in the morning. The voice was that of his little niece, Charlotte. Heyes opened his eyes. As his sight adjusted to the pre-sunrise light, he could see her standing barefoot on the wooden floor of the bedroom where Heyes and Beth were staying. Charlotte was wearing nothing but a dainty pair of panties.
"What's that mark right there?" she reached out and touched the little protuberance of the bullet scar on Heyes' hip. The retired outlaw was lying on his stomach in bed, so the injured hip was easy for the child to reach.
Heyes froze. Charlotte's gentle touch reminded him that he wasn't wearing a stich. The night had been very warm and he wasn't wearing even a night shirt. Heyes could feel the sheet down around his ankles. Beth was still asleep beside him, safely under the sheet. Heyes didn't dare to sit up or move much at all or he would suddenly show the three-year-old girl a whole lot more adult male anatomy than would be a good idea. He was already showing way too much for propriety what with the full rear view. The child's parents were sleeping in the room next door and could arrive at any moment. So Heyes stayed lying right where he was, with his cheek on the pillow.
Heyes answered Charlotte very quietly, trying not to wake anyone else. "That's a place where I got hurt a long time ago, honey. But it's real early. Why don't you go back to bed?"
"Not sleepy. It's morning," she lisped. "Papa goes fishing real early sometimes. Why don't you get up?"
"I'm not going fishing. I want to sleep some more. So does Aunt Beth."
"Oh. I want to play!" The little girl sounded eager to get her friendly uncle to participate.
Heyes tried hard not to sound irritable, even as he delivered a difficult message, "Well, nobody else wants to play this early. So you need to be a big girl and be patient for a while. Go back to bed and maybe you'll get sleepy."
Charlotte considered this for a moment. "Do you love me, Uncle Joshua?"
"Of course I love you. I love you very much." Heyes was a little startled to realize how true this was already. The powerful emotions of suddenly having a family had caught him by surprise.
"Good, 'cause I love you. You're a nice uncle!" Heyes smiled in real delight as the child prattled on, "Does Uncle Jed love me?"
"I guess so, but you'd have to ask him."
The little girl turned eagerly to go out the door. Heyes called after her. "But not right now, honey! Wait until everybody's up for breakfast and ask your Uncle Jed then. You'll get a better answer."
"Oh. Alright. Bye-bye, Uncle Joshua. I'm glad you came to see us."
"Me, too, Charlotte. See you later."
Charlotte pattered out the door. Heyes heard the door to the next room open as the child's parents let her into their room. Heyes wondered if they had been listening to his every word. At least if they had, he didn't think he'd said anything they'd object to. After Charlotte had vanished and Heyes could hear her mother putting her back to bed in the girls' room down the hall, Heyes sat up and pulled the sheet up to his waist.
Heyes had been feeling vibrations through the bed for some time. Once the little girl had left, Beth laughed aloud. "Oh, Heyes. I love, you, too! As patient as you were with that child at what is it? Four in the morning? I think you should be beatified at the very least."
"Be – what?"
"Beatified. It's a stage on the way to saint-hood."
"Saint-hood! If anybody on the face of the earth ought to know chapter and verse on why I'm no saint, it's you." Heyes kissed his wife tenderly.
When she next could, Beth asked her husband, "Are you still sure you want children of your own, Joshua?"
Heyes answered, "Positive! Mine and yours. Ours."
"Good, 'cause I still do, too."
Heyes gazed affectionately at Beth in the soft light and caressed her shoulder under her silk nighty. He whispered. "I hope Charlotte doesn't come back soon, because there's still time before we have to get up. I know what I'd like to do, Aunt Beth. I've changed my mind about wanting to play. Do you think she might come back?"
"She just might," said Beth impishly.
"I'll chance it. But just in case, we'll lock the door. Just shutting it doesn't seem to be enough with these Dunham children. You don't think they can pick locks, do you?" Now Heyes was the one laughing.
I have to note that, due to going with what is said in the series, the historical aspect of the stories told about how Curry and Heyes were orphaned are all mixed up. Don't take this as anything accurate about the real Border Wars.