Disclaimer: Alias Smith and Jones does not belong to me. This is fan fiction, not for profit.
Any references to people, places, businesses, etc. are entirely fictitious.
A/N – story presumes the details on the wanted posters are not entirely accurate. Story exists in the same No Amnesty - Smith and Jones story verse as previous stories but should also stand alone.
A Boys Home
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Dawson had barely stepped back inside the stable before Mark turned towards Heyes. The seventeen year old's fists were clenched by his side, his shoulders tight and tense. It was the first time Heyes had ever seen the boy truly angry. Or was Mark scared?
"You said I could be part of the gang," accused Mark. "I ain't going back home."
Terrence's jaw dropped open in surprise at his brother's words. Heyes noted that Mark didn't say we. The outlaw leader remembered Mark's consternation six weeks earlier when Terrence arrived at the Hole. Heyes remembered, that was when Mark stopped clamoring to be actively a part of the Lowell job.
"We need horses," reminded Heyes. With a gesture towards the telegraph clerk who was now walking quickly down the street towards a big man with a star pinned to his chest, Heyes added, "And we need to get outta town."
"Mark, we gotta…," protested Terrence.
"Terrence, no! I ain't gonna…," hissed Mark talking loud and fast over his younger brother's objection.
"And you both are still on probation!" interrupted Heyes before the boys argument could get out of hand. "Do everything I say, exactly as I say!"
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"How long have you known?" asked Mark an hour later.
The blond seventeen year old flapped the reins urging the rented horses forward. The buckboard rattled and jolted along the stony road leading from Yellow Falls to the Tipton ranch. Kid had finally exchanged his stained blue shirt for one of Heyes' clean white ones. Now he and Terrence sprawled out in the rear bed of the wagon, resting their heads on the saddlebags. Terrence read his dime novel out loud. Heyes couldn't hear the words, but he occasionally heard Kid's soft laughter and murmurs of "that ain't possible." Heyes hesitated a moment before answering Mark's question.
"When you first showed up in Wildwood three months ago," responded Heyes finally. "After talking to you for ten minutes, I knew you weren't twenty and you weren't an outlaw. About the only thing I believed was that you needed money."
"Not that," clarified Mark, his face reddening. "When did you know my name wasn't Smith?"
"That took longer," admitted Heyes with a chuckle, "but when Terrence showed up six weeks ago…"
"Terrence wasn't supposed to come after me," grumbled Mark.
"I had to," piped up the younger boy. "School started, and you weren't home yet."
The older teen jiggled the reins again as the horses crested the ridge. They had been on Tipton land for the past twenty minutes, but this was the first sight of the boy's home. In the distance a neatly kept house appeared, dwarfed by a huge barn. There were no horses visible in the adjacent corral. The bunk house on the far side of the corral seemed empty.
"Kid and I suspected you and Terrence were part of Abner's brood," explained Heyes. "I've bought horses from Abner for years. Your bay had the Bar-T brand and, well, quite frankly, except for the blond hair you look just like your Pa."
The front end of the wagon tilted downwards as the horses followed the sloping road. A soft grunt came from the back. Heyes looked over his shoulder. Terrence dropped the book and rolled sideways jostling Kid as he climbed to his knees and peered over the side of the buckboard.
"Why did you run off Mark?" prodded Heyes softly.
"Told you, needed the money," replied Mark pressing his lips tight. "Outlawing seemed like a quick way to get it."
Mark urged the horses forward without giving Heyes a chance to ask another question. Chicken's scattered, clucking their dismay, as the wagon passed the barn. Mark guided the horses to the front of the home. A girl with two thick blonde braids, wearing a blue gingham dress, appeared on the porch.
"Ma! Pa!" shouted the girl, "Mark and Terrence are back! And they brought company!"
The shout brought forth an exodus from both house and barn. An older girl, blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, came running from the barn. She was followed by a smaller girl carrying a basket, clutching an egg in her hand. Two little girls that were almost the same size, each dressed in blue and white checked dresses with a white pinafore, ran out the door and skidded to a stop on the porch, staring at the men.
"My sisters," murmured Mark in a low voice. "The loud one is Ruthie, she's eight. Mary's twelve, Emma is ten, Cassie is five and the one giving us the stink eye is Yvonne. She's four."
Terrence and Kid hopped out of the back, while Heyes clambered down from the seat. He moved to stand between Kid and Terrence. Mark stayed sitting stiffly in the seat as if he weren't going to get down. The smallest girl was indeed glaring at the new arrivals. Little Yvonne stepped forward and crossed her tiny arms over her chest.
"Where have you been?" demanded the pint sized child. "Your horses came back hours ago!"
Terrence's face lit up with a broad smile. Heyes glanced over his shoulder to see Mark's reaction. The older boy was staring straight ahead as if he hadn't heard. Heyes shifted his stance so he could watch both Mark and the children gathered in front of the home.
"Oh good, Dancer and Stardust made it back!" exclaimed Terrence happily. "I was worried about them!"
"By any chance did a really finicky bay mare come back with Mark and Terrence's horses?" asked Heyes.
Before anyone could answer, the adults came outside. A blonde woman wiping her hands on a dishtowel strode through the open door first. She stopped abruptly. A tremulous smile lit up her face. The dishtowel fluttered to the porch floor as she raised her hands to clasp her cheeks.
"Mark! Terrence! You're really back!"
A wheel chair squeaked behind her. The occupant of the chair sat shadowed in the doorway. Mrs. Tipton stepped forward. Strong arms dragged Terrence into a warm embrace as the wheelchair squeaked all the way outside onto the porch. The gaunt man seated in the noisy contraption was nothing like the hale, barrel chested man Heyes had met upon his return to Wyoming six years earlier.
"Abner?" Heyes tried not to let his voice betray the shock he felt. "It's been a long time…"
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"Han-ni-bal," called Big Jim. The tall Spaniard beckoned to his new protégé. "Come here. I would like you to meet an old fri-end."
The skinny nineteen year old reluctantly quit watching the horses and climbed down from the corral railings. Beyond the barn, laundry flapped on a line. Nearer the house, two young boys collected kindling from a log pile. The front door opened and a blonde woman called something indistinguishable. The boys hurried inside. Heyes turned away from the house and walked towards the bunkhouse. The young Kansan tried not to shiver in the cold November wind as he reached the outlaw leader and the angry man glaring at Big Jim.
"Han-ni-bal, this is Abner Tipton," introduced Santana. "Abner once rode with..."
"Santiago," interrupted Abner, his face reddened in the chill wind, "what are you doing here?"
Big Jim took off his hat, revealing thick black hair liberally streaked with white. The outlaw leader gestured towards Heyes. The youth took off his own black hat and held it respectfully at the center of his chest.
"It's been over twelve years since your brother and I split up," declared Abner. "I don't want outlaws at my place! I've got a family to consider! A wife, children!"
"Abner," smiled Santana, his dark eyes suddenly shadowed. "Jose and I agreed, we would not disturb you and your family. However, Han-ni-bal brings a message from Jose. I thought you would want to hear it directly from him."
The anger drained out of Tipton. The big man's shoulders slumped and for a moment, Heyes caught a glimpse of something very vulnerable in the rancher's face.
"What happened to Jose?"
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"I don't want…" began Abner Tipton
"Yes, yes Abner," interrupted Heyes with an agreeable smile. The slender man raised his hands to either side as if to surrender. "I know you don't want customers at this time of year, not even long standing customers such as myself."
Heyes swept the black hat off his head and stepped closer. He exuded charm as he extended his hand forward to the lady of the house.
"Ma'am, Norton P. Terwilliger at your service," stated Heyes with a glance at Abner. The rancher nodded in recognition of the old alias. With a gesture towards Kid, Heyes continued, "I hope you will forgive the intrusion, but my partner, Henry Owens, and I have had some horse trouble…"
"Mr. Terwilliger," interrupted the beaming blonde woman as she reached her fingertips out to touch his hand. "There is no intrusion, you brought my boys home! Thank you!"
"Actually Ma'am," responded Heyes with a dimpled smile. "It's the other way around, we're the ones to be thanking you. Mark and Terrence brought us here."
From the expression on her face, Heyes gathered that Mrs. Tipton didn't care who brought them here, she was just glad her boys were home.
"Well don't just stand outside," urged Mrs. Tipton, with a gracious sweep of her arm, she gestured to the open door, "come inside where it's warm."
The girls now surrounded Terrence and Kid, pressing them towards the entrance. Heyes kept his eyes on Abner. The crusty rancher nodded slightly, but up on the buckboard bench seat, Mark shook his head.
"I've got to get Mr. Dawson's horses back to Yellow Falls," stated Mark.
The Tipton family turned to stare at the oldest teenager. The smile disappeared from Mrs. Tipton's face. Terrence looked surprised, while his sisters looked disappointed. Abner's face reddened in a manner suggestive of angry words ready to explode. Kid and Heyes exchanged a glance. Kid's blue eyes rolled as if to ask "Did you expect this to be easy?" Heyes hurried to counter Mark's words before Abner had a chance to say anything.
"The horses need a rub down," interjected Heyes, "but Dawson said they didn't have to be back until Thursday."
"I ain't…"
Heyes spun on his heels. Facing only Mark, with his back to the others, the outlaw leader turned the full force of a Hannibal Heyes glare upon the teen.
"I'll help you with the horses Mark," insisted Heyes firmly, "but then I have some business with your father. Mr. Owens and I need to purchase animals to replace the ones we lost."
Under the assault of Heyes' glare, Mark's defiance wilted. The boy's shoulders drooped. Mark nodded in agreement.
"Mark," ordered Abner with a special emphasis on Heyes' assumed name, "when you're done with the horses bring Mr. Terwilliger to my office."
"Yes sir."
Mark clicked his tongue. The horses headed in a wide circle back towards the barn. Everyone else entered the home. Heyes hesitated only a moment to collect his thoughts before he sauntered purposefully after the teen. They worked quietly, unhitching the horses, bringing them into the warm barn. Horace's mare, along with Mark and Terrence's horses were already stabled. It wasn't until the rented horses were rubbed down, and Mark stepped out of the last stall that Heyes grabbed the boy by the shoulders and slammed him against the wooden wall.
"What happened to Abner?" demanded Heyes. "And why would you run off when your family needs you?"
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"Jose Santana was the fourth prisoner in the new Nebraska Penitentiary," began Heyes. "I was the seventh."
"What is Jose doing in Nebraska?" asked Abner.
"He is serving a life sentence," answered Heyes.
A shocked silence greeted his words. Heyes swallowed, remembering the man who had taken him under his wing. Guards in the nearly empty prison allowed small pairs of trusted non-violent prisoners to work with minimal or no supervision. Jose taught Heyes more about lock picking than he'd ever learned in Valparaiso. Cleaning the warden's office provided the opportunity for lessons in the fine art of safe cracking. And the older man's tales of his wild youth had kept the young Kansan's mind from going crazy with boredom from staring at nothing but walls and bars day after day after day.
"What is Jose's message?" asked Abner finally.
Heyes glanced at Big Jim. The tall Spaniard gave an encouraging nod. Santana had heard the message once already.
"Forget you ever had a brother. Forget you ever had a partner. Don't do anything stupid," answered Heyes.
"Hmmph!" spluttered Abner. The big man glared at the leader of the Devil's Hole Gang. "Santiago, you ain't gonna listen to that drivel are you?"
Big Jim smiled. He stepped forward and draped an arm across Abner's shoulders.
"Of course not old fri-end," agreed Santana. "I have a plan…"
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"It's all my fault," began Mark. Desolate blue eyes showed the misery the boy was feeling.
"Tell me," demanded Heyes his voice hard.
Mark's blue eyes glistened. The boy stared over Heyes' shoulder at some distant point in the barn, determined not to meet Heyes' brown eyed gaze. Heyes pretended not to notice how fast Mark's eyes blinked.
"We were working up in the north canyon," Mark's voice stumbled over the words as he tried to explain. "It had been rainy all week… Pa said not to go over by the outcropping… but I thought I heard… there was a slide, rocks everywhere, dirt, mud... Pa pushed me outta the way, but…"
Heyes loosened his grip on the boy's shoulders. Mark shuddered at the memory.
"One of the rocks pinned Pa down," concluded Mark. "Doc says Pa might never walk again."
"That doesn't sound like it was your fault," said Heyes in a softer tone.
"Pa wouldn't have been hurt if I hadn't…"
"Accidents happen," interrupted Heyes. "And I know Abner wouldn't blame you, so don't go blaming yourself."
Mark shook his head in disagreement. Heyes sighed. That might be something Abner would have to explain to the boy.
"Most of the money from this year's auction went to doctor bills," continued Mark. "Pa has a loan with the bank. The last payment is due next month. Mr. Mersham, the loan officer, said the bank has to have a thousand dollars in full by November first or he'll foreclose. The bank will take everything."
"And you thought outlawing was a good way to get money?" asked Heyes.
"That was my plan," answered Mark. "According to the books, you've always got a plan and the Devil's Hole Gang has lots of money. And since I knew Pa once rode with the Santana Bunch, I thought…"
Heyes' sharp bark of laughter interrupted the boy. Heyes released his grip upon the boy's shoulders and turned towards the barn entrance.
"I thought Terrence was the only one reading those silly dime novels," chuckled Heyes. "Don't tell me you believed them too?"
Mark hurried to catch up with the outlaw leader. The boy nodded as he stepped beside Heyes.
"You might want to ask your Pa to tell you why he quit riding with the Santana Bunch," suggested Heyes.
"Yes sir, Mr. Heyes," answered Mark.
Heyes stopped dead still in front of the barn door. Mark almost bumped into him.
"Terwilliger," responded Heyes sharply. "Your Pa knows me, but I don't think your Ma does. I don't want to cause trouble for your folks. Remember, whenever I'm on Tipton land, I am Norton P. Terwilliger, a regular customer, a law abiding horse breeder. Don't you forget that!"
"Yes sir," nodded Mark. The boy hesitated before adding, "Mr. Terwilliger sir."
Heyes hauled open the barn door and stepped out into the afternoon sunlight. Mark fell into step beside him as he strode towards the buckboard. Heyes reached inside, grabbed his saddlebags and tossed them over his shoulder before they headed towards the house.
"Plans don't always work out," added Heyes without slowing.
Heyes remembered, they never had the chance to try Big Jim and Abner's prison breakout plan. Four days after talking with Abner, Big Jim received word that Jose had been stabbed to death in a prison fight.
"And your plan to get money being an outlaw has one major flaw," stated Heyes. "You're not an outlaw."
"You said I could…," spluttered Mark.
"If," reminded Heyes as he stepped onto the porch. "If you do everything I say, exactly as I say, until we get back to Devil's Hole."
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"Come back here," called Mrs. Tipton from the rear of the home.
The scent of apples and cinnamon accosted Heyes as he followed Mark down the hallway, past two closed rooms. The crowded kitchen ran the full length of the back of the house. Windows faced west to catch the warm golden glow of late afternoon. Kid sprawled in a chair by the side of a long, narrow table. A china plate, trimmed with pink and yellow roses, and covered with traces of breadcrumbs lay on the table in front of him. The three smallest girls sat opposite Kid watching as Mrs. Tipton dabbed ointment on the reddish cuts across his face. Terrence leaned against the wall munching a sandwich of thick sliced bread and roast beef. The two oldest girls stood near the stove.
"Mrs. Tipton, I think Abner wanted to discuss business in his office," reminded Heyes.
"Call me Barbara," insisted Mrs. Tipton. "And Terrence said you hadn't eaten since breakfast. Business can wait until you both have something to eat. Sit."
Mary brought a platter, trimmed in the same rose pattern as Kid's plate, piled high with roast beef sandwiches and placed it on the table as Heyes and Mark sat down. Heyes dropped his saddlebags on the floor between his feet as Emma set matching plates and napkins before each of them. Heyes reached out to pick up a hearty sandwich. The sound of a door opening in the hallway was followed by a squeaking noise.
"Abner," asked Mrs. Tipton, "do you want a sandwich?"
The family patriarch wheeled his way into the kitchen. Kid scooted to the right, while Heyes scooted his chair to the left, making room for Tipton.
"Just a cup of tea," replied Tipton.
Mrs. Tipton put away her medicine kit while Mary fixed her father's tea. The young girl set the steaming teacup and saucer in front of her father just as Heyes finished the last bite of his sandwich. The older man reached for the teacup. Trembling hands fumbled it. The hot drink spilled across the table while the cup itself went into a spin. Pink and yellow roses flashed as the white china cup travelled to the edge of the table, tottered for a moment, and fell. Kid's hand shot out and caught the cup in midair. A collective gasp of amazement sounded from the girls.
"My mother had a cup like that," said Kid as he gently replaced the teacup in its saucer. "It would be a shame if it got broken."
As Mrs. Tipton thanked Kid, Terrence reached for a dishtowel and began blotting the tea. Abner Tipton struggled to control his embarrassment. The rancher shoved the wheelchair back from the table.
"In my office, Terwilliger," demanded Abner, "now!"
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"Alright Heyes," growled Tipton as the slender dark haired man shut the office door. "You want to tell me what you and your partner are doing here at my ranch? And with my boys?"
Heyes leaned back against the door, crossed his arms over his chest, saddlebags dangling over his shoulder. He tilted his head to one side as he regarded the rancher. Although Heyes bought horses from Tipton at the ranch's yearly auction, and the man knew who he was, they didn't have any other connection since Big Jim had been arrested.
"We need horses," answered Heyes. "And your boys have been working for me."
"Working for…" Tipton's face blanched.
Abner leaned back in his wheelchair with a scowl and ran his hand through his graying hair.
"Not outlawing! Mainly taking care of horses and pulling cooking duty," added Heyes hastily. "They showed up in Wildwood, first Mark and then Terrence. We took them back to the Hole, figured it was safer than leaving them there."
"What did they go and run off for?" demanded Tipton. His voice cracked as he added, "Worried their mother sick…"
Heyes could tell Mrs. Tipton wasn't the only one worried about the boys.
"Terrence was looking for Mark," answered Heyes. He sighed. "And Mark had some notion of being an outlaw and getting rich so he can pay off your bank loan…"
"What?"
"Yeah," answered Heyes. "And he also thinks it's his fault that you're…"
Heyes gestured towards the wheelchair. Tipton's eyes widened in surprise.
"It was an accident!" insisted Tipton. "Where did he get such an idea?"
"I don't know, you'll have to ask him," answered Heyes.
"How am I gonna get him to stay here and not run off again?" sighed Tipton.
Heyes walked towards the desk and laid his saddlebags down. Opening the topmost pouch, the slender man pulled out a wad of bank notes.
"The mare that came in with Mark and Terrence's horses belongs to one of my men," said Heyes. "So I only need to buy one more horse…"
"I heard about the Lowell Bank and Trust," huffed Tipton.
Dark brown eyes gazed across the desk at the rancher. Was Tipton really getting fussy about where the money was coming from? Or was he just proddy from worry?
"Then you should know this money ain't from a robbery," snapped Heyes. He fanned the notes. "My poker winnings."
"Keep your money, you can have a horse," growled Tipton. The rancher waved a big hand dismissively. "It's the least I can do since you brought my boys back. I just need to figure a way to keep 'em back."
Heyes leaned forward over the desk.
"Abner, outlawing ain't what it used to be since you rode with the Santana Bunch," declared Heyes. "I need to keep the competition down, make sure the Tipton Brothers don't get any fool ideas about setting up business anytime soon."
"Mark and Terrence ain't…"
"Abner," interrupted Heyes as he spread the money across the man's desk, "Let me make an investment in the future."
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Heyes stepped out of Tipton's office. The house was oddly silent.
"Everyone has gone outside," explained Barbara. "Mr. Owens is going to try to saddle the sorrel."
Heyes strode out to the corral and leaned against the railings beside Mark. Inside the corral, Kid circled the sorrel gelding swinging a lariat in his hands. On the far side of the corral, Terrence sat on the railing while his sisters leaned against it.
"Kid was your age when he first joined the Devil's Hole Gang," confided Heyes in a low voice.
"I told you seventeen wasn't too young to be in the gang," responded Mark.
Heyes' brown eyes narrowed. He turned to regard the young man. In some ways, Mark reminded him of another stubborn blond, in other ways, Mark reminded him more of himself.
"In those four years, Kid's been shot and shot at, had his horse shot out from under him, had wanted posters made up with his name on 'em, he's been beat up and thrown in jail," continued the outlaw leader. He sighed a moment before adding, "If we hadn't got Kid out of jail, he would have gone to trial, maybe prison."
"I can handle the risks," insisted Mark.
Kid let loose the lasso. The rope dropped around the gelding's neck. The animal reared in protest. Terrence jumped down from the railing and threw his lasso in to help Kid. Together the two blonds tried to contain the horse.
"Could you handle the risks if any of those things happened to your younger brother?" asked Heyes as he too climbed the fence and joined Kid.
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The girls had all gone back inside when Mark brought Horace's bay mare out of the barn. The teen handed Heyes the reins. Kid held the reins to the saddled sorrel gelding. Terrence looked from one man to another in confusion.
"Are you leaving already?" asked Terrence. "I thought we were going back with you?"
"One of you boys is going to need to take Dawson's wagon and team back to Yellow Falls," reminded Heyes.
"But… but you said…"
"Do everything I say, exactly as I say," repeated Heyes, "from now until we get back to Devil's Hole and you'll be part of the gang."
"But…"
"Terrence," interrupted Mark. "I couldn't do it."
"What couldn't you do?" asked Terrence.
"The last thing Mr. Heyes asked," answered Mark. The boy shook his head. "If you still want to go…"
"No!" huffed Terrence. "Ain't gonna go joining a gang if you ain't there!"
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"So what did you and Tipton talk about?" asked Kid later that night.
The partners had traveled east until it was almost too dark to see to set up camp. Heyes leaned back on a flat rock and smiled as he poked the wood trying to encourage the fire.
"I made a deal with him," answered Heyes. "Paid a thousand dollars to have first chance at buying horses before they go to the annual auction for the next ten years."
Kid frowned as he considered the deal.
"You paid extra?" asked Kid. "Just for the privilege of maybe buying a horse?"
"It's an investment in the future," insisted Heyes. "It's a good deal!"
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"We should be in Wildwood by nightfall," stated Heyes the next day. "Then back to Devil's Hole by tomorrow."
Kid looked off to the right. The mountain range with the hidden outlaw camp beckoned to the west.
"If you hadn't sent the fella's to Wildwood, we could be back at Devil's Hole before noon," grumbled the tired blond. "Why on earth did you tell Wheat and Kyle to use Plan C? And with dynamite?"
"Both Wheat and Clarence said you told them to keep an eye on Jasper," started Heyes.
"Yeah, I did," agreed Kid. "Jasper ain't nothing but a walkoff."
"That's right! That's exactly what they said," replied Heyes. "Kid, you weren't there, you didn't see how Jasper was acting. I thought he might try to take over, maybe shoot me in the back…"
"What? Heyes, you worry too much," objected Kid. "I told them to watch Jasper 'cause he's not too smart, not 'cause I thought he was a murderer."
There was a moment of silence as the partner's stared at each other.
"Jasper might shoot you in the back by accident," continued Kid, "but it wouldn't be on purpose."
"Kid, I don't know if that makes me feel any better," replied Heyes.
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