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.
Wildwood, Revisited
-x-x-x-x-x-x-
"Yes, thank you. I'll be sure and look up your friend Mr. O'Sullivan when I get to San Francisco," promised Horace.
Kid smiled as he listened to more of Heyes' last minute reminders. The three men strode across the nearly empty street towards the waiting stage. Early morning sunlight lit up Horace's face as he turned to say goodbye. The slightly built Bostonian had three weeks growth of dark hair crawling across his upper lip, not quite enough moustache to twirl into his favored points, but a start. Horace clutched his travelling bag in one hand and the paper Hannibal Heyes had given him with Silky's address in the other.
"If the theater business doesn't work out," assured Heyes, "Silky will definitely appreciate your talents."
Kid placed his hand on Horace's arm as the former Devil's Hole Gang member started towards the open coach door.
"There aren't any chicken coops on top of this stage, you might as well put your luggage up there," noted Kid. "No telling how many other passengers will be joining you, and we don't want you changing clothes between here and Cheyenne."
Kid took the carpetbag from Horace's hand and tossed it upward to the driver. The man securely fastened the bag next to the mail pouch as Horace climbed inside the creaky wooden stage. Dust swirled around the coach and six as the partner's watched the Boston Bandit's departure.
"I'm gonna miss Horace," stated Heyes.
"Yeah," agreed Kid, "but Horace did say right from the start that he was only gonna work until he got enough money to pay for the rest of his trip to San Francisco."
Kid pulled his heavy sheepskin coat tighter as the chill mid-November wind blew through the streets of Wildwood. Beside him, the dark haired Kansan stretched his arms overhead and gave a big yawn.
"Do you want to go back to the room to try and get some more sleep Kid?" asked Heyes. "Or…"
"Breakfast," answered the tall blond with a tone of certainty. "The diner opened at six."
-x-x-x-x-x-x-
"Thank you Ma'am," replied Kid with a bright smile.
The waitress brushed softly against his shoulder as she leaned in to pour steaming coffee into Kid's cup. Heyes nudged his cup forward and she topped off his cup as well.
"Let me know if there is anything else you need," smiled the dark haired woman as she turned and sauntered away, disappearing into the kitchen.
"Food is good here, but the coffee is weak," assessed Heyes. His brown eyes took on a mischievous twinkle. "You know Kid, I think the lady likes you."
Kid snapped his gaze back to the man sitting across the table from him. Heyes beamed his most innocent smile. The twenty-one year old felt the warmth of his face reddening under his cousin's scrutiny.
"The lady is just being polite," responded Kid.
"Do you really think that's all?" snorted Heyes.
Kid thought for a moment as his partner leaned back into his chair, eyebrows raised, a dimpled smile of encouragement present. Kid reached across the table and forked one of Heyes' untouched sausages before leaning back in his own chair.
"Pretty much," answered Kid.
Kid took a bite of the meat. Heyes pushed his plate to one side and leaned forward resting his forearms on the table staring at Kid.
"Kid, it's been what? Six months?" asked Heyes in a low tone. "Are you still moping over Deanna?"
At the mention of Deanna's name, Kid swallowed too quickly and started coughing. Heyes shoved the coffee mug within reach of his grasping fingers and Kid took another swig of the hot brew as he thought about Heyes' question.
"I ain't moping," denied Kid as he settled the cup between his hands. He lowered his voice and tried for a level even tone. "Why do you ask?"
It had been six months since Deanna made it quite clear that she was no longer interested in being involved with an outlaw. Kid felt his face flush even redder as he remembered that April morning. He backed out of Deanna's room into the corridor above the saloon, clutching his pants and gun belt in front of him while a bottle of rose scented toilet water crashed against the wall behind him. A small saucer was next, followed by a teacup. Then one boot followed by the other. The sound of doors opening and closing echoed in the hall. The hiss of his partner's voice "Kid, get in here!" pulled him into Heyes' room. The gang rode out of Wildwood an hour later. The next time Kid returned to Wildwood, Deanna was gone.
"Three years is a long time," muttered Heyes, before picking up his cup of coffee. "Sure hope you're not gonna take three years to get over her."
Blue eyes regarded the conniving man in front of him. Why was Heyes prodding him? The waitress had dark hair like Deanna. Was Heyes really trying to play matchmaker? Kid took another sip of his coffee while he pondered.
"I'm taking my time, I'm just choosy," insisted Kid finally.
"Seems to me as how I remember she did the choosing," chuckled Heyes.
The tension between them disappeared as Kid smiled at the memory. Heyes was right, Deanna had been the one to make the initial overture. Things had moved very quickly from there. Deanna was a few years older than him and knew what she wanted, but Kid wasn't around regularly enough to be making any promises. After three years, she had grown tired of waiting.
"When Pa was my age," said Kid softly, "he and Ma were married. They already had Henry, and Maeve was on the way."
Heyes thumped his cup down hard. Coffee sloshed over the edge of the cup and onto the blue and white checked table cloth. Kid almost laughed at the astounded look on his partner's face.
"Are you thinking about getting' married?" asked Heyes his brown eyes wide. His voice ratchetted upwards with each question. "Settling down? Maybe having a kid? Or two? Or six?"
"Deanna wanted those things," answered Kid in a low tone. "I'm twenty-one, and an outlaw. Settling down ain't…"
"Kid," interrupted his partner, "I told you before, you don't have to do this. You can still go to Montana…"
-x-x-x-x-x-x-
"Lom?" asked Kid.
The seventeen year old was still trying to put names to the faces in the Devil's Hole Gang. And Kid was trying to get used to the idea that his cousin's friends were a dangerous bunch of outlaws. Some of Kid's friends in Texas had been sorta shady, and a couple of 'em, like Artie, mighta rustled a few beeves when they were hungry, but as far as Kid knew, none of them had ever actually made a living out of pointing guns at people and robbing them.
"Lom…," continued Kid thoughtfully, "the big guy, sorta quiet, level headed…"
"Yeah," interrupted Heyes. Speaking fast, the slender dark haired man continued, "That's Lom. He's switching sides, gonna be a lawman."
"Good for him," replied Kid in a soft tone.
Kid watched as Heyes turned and paced back across the leader's cabin, running a hand through his dark brown hair. Frantic energy emanated from his cousin. Blue eyes narrowed. There was something else that was worrying Heyes.
"Kid," Heyes looked up, dark brown eyes tired and worried, showing the strain of the last four days. "You don't have to do this. You can still go to Montana like we planned, and I'll join up with you later."
Kid smiled, thinking that he had found what was worrying his partner.
"Now Heyes," responded the muscular blond, "I ain't leaving you here on your own. We just have to manage until we can get this Big Jim fella outta jail…"
"That ain't gonna happen," interrupted Heyes. The dark haired partner stopped before a small table. Slender fingers tapped the paper laying atop. "Big Jim has been moved again. Word is the law plans on keeping him on the move until he can be locked up in the new penitentiary. Big Jim himself sent word to not try anything. Guards are liable to shoot him before letting anybody break him out."
"Is that what Gutierrez had to say?" asked Kid.
"Part of it," replied Heyes.
Kid frowned in contemplation and didn't say anything for a moment. The news about Big Jim might be the cause of his cousin's pacing, or it might be Gutierrez. Kid had a bad feeling about the newly arrived outlaw and his partner Smilden. They were friends, if you called it that, of Loomis and Baldwin.
"Heyes, if we're gonna be with this gang for a while," suggested Kid, "we need to set up some rules."
"Rules? What kinda rules Kid?"
"Rules so nobody gets killed," answered Kid, "especially not you, or me."
-x-x-x-x-x-x-
"Like I told you before Heyes," reminded Kid, "we're not going to Montana until we can both go."
Heyes leaned back in his chair and smiled. Kid recognized the faraway look in his partner's brown eyes from their schooldays. That gaze always signified schemes and dreams of the grandest sort.
"We could get a real nice spread," smiled Heyes, "settle down like Lom or Abner, they were both outlaws once…"
"Do you think we could ever have something like Abner's place?" asked Kid.
With a shock Kid realized how wistful his own voice sounded. He had once wanted to be a farmer, raise crops, cows, horses, and children like his father. Those dreams had died a long time ago. Kid shook his curly blond head, pushed back his chair and stood up. Finished, he pulled out some money and laid it on the table beside his empty plate.
"Aw Kid, someday, I can see you in a kitchen just like Abner's, with a pretty little wife and surrounded by at least a half a dozen children, maybe more," grinned Heyes. He stood up, and added, "All of them girls."
"What about you Heyes?" snorted Kid as they headed out of the diner. He used his partner's words. "Do you ever think about getting' married? Settling down? Maybe having a kid? Or two? Or six?"
"Nah, I'd rather play poker. Lady Luck is the only woman for me," replied Heyes with a smirk. He pointed a slender hand towards the saloon. "You comin'?"
"Post office first," nodded Kid, "then I'll meet you at the saloon."
-x-x-x-x-x-x-
"Nothing for Henry Owens," answered the bespectacled post master. A pale shaky hand reached for a thick envelope. "But we do have a letter from Denver for Thaddeus Hale."
The man placed the envelope on the counter next to Kid's hand and peered at the list again. Wispy white strands of hair flew left and right as the man shook his head. Rheumy eyes blinked and looked closer at the last name.
"And nothing for J. Curry."
"Thank you," replied Kid.
Kid scooped up Clem's letter from the counter. He turned away, looking down at the envelope, caught up in his thoughts. He had tried both his usual alias, Henry Owens, and as close to his real name as he felt comfortable using in a government building. Deanna knew he received mail from Clem at the Wildwood Post Office. Clem had come to Wildwood a few years ago and somehow managed to meet Lom, Deanna, and every last one of the Devil's Hole Gang. It wouldn't surprise Kid if Deanna and Clem wrote each other too. If Deanna had wanted to reach him, she could. Heyes was right. Six months was enough. It was time to get over her. Kid sighed. Of course that was easier said than done. The door to the post office opened.
"Ahem."
Kid stopped short at the sound. He recognized the big black square toed boots. Kid looked up. He'd almost walked into the Porterville lawman. The long legged blond was very glad that the bruises on his face had long since faded. The only sign of his encounter with the Lowell posse three weeks earlier was a tiny white line where Lobo had pulled the stitches out from beneath his chin. Kid didn't think that Lom would arrest him here, the lawman was out of his territory, but it was best to be sure.
"Hello Lom," greeted Kid. "Are you here on business? Or pleasure?"
"Even a lawman gets a day off every now and then," replied the burly man.
Lom held up an envelope of his own. Kid recognized the Denver address. Great. If Lom was writing Clem, it meant the reward on the wanted posters had gone up again.
"I'm just gonna mail this letter to Miss Hale," added the lawman, "then mosey on over to the saloon. I hear there's gonna be a good poker game."
"Private game," replied Kid. Using Heyes' latest alias, Kid continued. "Ask for Willard Rembacker."
-x-x-x-x-x-x-
"You got everything?" asked Kid.
Preacher stood tying a small bundle atop an already heavily laden brown mule. Just past the mule, the reins to the sorrel horse from Tipton's ranch looped loosely over the hitching post along with the reins to Lobo's horse and another mule. The mercantile door swung open and Lobo strode out with another fifty pound bag of flour.
"That should be the last of it," nodded Preacher.
Lobo hefted the sack up onto the other mule. Kid pulled his hat down lower and glanced across the street. Lom stomped his way down from the post office steps and headed towards the saloon.
"With the supplies Wheat, Kyle and Clarence took back yesterday," added Lobo as he turned back to tying down his load, "we should be all set."
Except for a few flurries in the past couple of nights, autumn had been unseasonably warm. Usually by now the gang was already holed up for the winter. The Lowell job had been the last of the season. This year there were only going to be five staying at Devil's Hole. As soon as Heyes opened the safe and started handing out money, Ludlow, Hawkins, Lewiston and Jasper had taken their cut and hightailed it south. Kid doubted he would ever see them again.
"Good, best get back before the snows start," nodded Kid. "Heyes has a poker game lined up. Tomorrow we'll be going down to Denver for a spell. Then south. Heyes wants to check out the pass on the east side of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. He's heard there's gonna be an extension…"
"The Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe ain't never gonna get to Santa Fe," snorted Preacher.
"Maybe, maybe not," replied Kid noncommittally. "We won't be back until spring."
The tall blond reached inside his sheepskin jacket and pulled out a slender package wrapped in brown paper and held it out towards Preacher. The bushy haired man tucked it away quickly before Lobo could see. Heyes made sure a good supply of whisky was sent back to the Hole yesterday, but Kid found a special treat. Red and white candy sticks, sugar and peppermint mostly, all the way from Chicago.
"Don't let anyone see, especially not Kyle or he will open it," admonished Kid. "Wait until Christmas."
-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Lom was already seated to the left of Heyes at the green felt covered table in the back corner of the saloon when Kid walked in. The blond swaggered over to the far side and sat down with his back against the wall, on Heyes' right. Kid shifted his chair just a little bit so Lom wouldn't block his view of the nearly empty saloon.
"Thought you had a private room set up," remarked Kid with a questioning tone.
"It's not ready yet," answered Heyes. "It's early yet. Not too many people. We will be alright to play a few warm up hands out here until the room is ready, and we can listen to Lom tell us all about the doings in Porterville."
"Doings?" Kid raised an eyebrow.
"We had a bit of excitement in Porterville recently," informed Lom. He gave a baleful glance at Kid. "You mighta heard the Lowell posse came to town with one of the bank robbers."
"No," replied Kid, shaking his curly blond head for emphasis, "I can't say that I heard anything about that."
"Tell us all about it," urged Heyes. A dimpled grin spread across his face and his eyes sparkled with mischief. "I wanna hear every detail."
"Not much to tell," huffed Lom. The lawman wasn't the least bit taken in by Heyes' act. "Turns out one of the posse was really Bart Barstow…"
"Who?" interrupted Heyes.
"Outlaw, wanted for armed robbery and murder," answered Lom. "Sheriff from Yuma came up two weeks ago to take him back for trial. Unless he escapes or someone breaks him out, I reckon he'll hang."
There was silence for a moment. All three men knew that if Kid and Heyes were twelve miles north of where they now sat, Lom would be arresting them, taking them back for trial. And while the Kansans hadn't done anything to warrant a hanging sentence, incarceration wasn't something high on their list of fun things to do.
"What about the man the posse brought in?" asked Kid changing the subject slightly.
Kid leaned his chair back, rocking on two legs, watching Lom carefully. The lawman's eyes narrowed.
"Guess it was a case of mistaken identity," answered Lom. "His mother came and identified him, my deputy released him, and now he seems to have disappeared..."
"Disappeared?" interrupted Heyes with a grin. "What do you mean?"
Kid shot a glance at his partner, trying to will Heyes to be quiet. There wasn't any need to keep prodding Lom.
"The station master swore up and down that a blonde woman and her three sons got tickets on the southbound stage. I telegraphed the Sheriff of Hopkinsville when I was done locking up that murderer Barstow," grumbled Lom. "Clyde wired back, said there wasn't anybody on the stage when it arrived. Two days later when the stage returned, I spoke to the driver and all he could remember was three dark haired men getting off less than ten miles from Porterville."
"You don't say," grinned Heyes.
The big lawman glared at his friend.
"I ain't too pleased about an invasion of outlaws in my town," growled Lom. "Did you have anything to do with that?"
"Lom, how could you think such a thing?" pouted Heyes in mock dismay. "Meeting up with a lawman is never part of a Hannibal Heyes plan."
"Phhfft!"
Heyes pushed himself away from the table and stood up. A slender hand waved in the general direction of the bar.
"I'll see about getting us a bottle of whisky and a deck of playing cards," stated Heyes. "We can start before the rest of the gents arrive."
"And sandwiches," called Kid towards his partner's retreating back. "Don't forget the food!"
-x-x-x-x-x-x-
"I don't think he heard you," snorted Lom.
Kid turned to face the big lawman. Lom sat across the table, eyeing him thoughtfully. Lom's dark eyes reminded Kid of his Uncle Arthur's gaze. Lom had the same look as the schoolmaster. Kid resisted the urge to squirm in his seat.
"The man the Lowell posse brought in was about your size, had blond curly hair too," stated Lom.
Kid heard the unspoken question, but did Lom really want to know? Heyes always said Lom was a friend, they had ridden together once. But that was before Kid came to Wyoming. Did Lom's friendship extend to Kid? He started to open his mouth and answer, but Lom was talking again.
"I was real worried when Heyes brought you to Devil's Hole," confided Lom. The outlaw traced a circle in the green felt tabletop with his fingertips. "Big Jim never held with killing. The gang never had a real shootist before…"
"I ain't a killer," objected Kid. His blue eyes widened as he remembered his second night in Devil's Hole. "Are you still upset about…"
-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Kid sprawled on his bunk near the door of the large room. His long legs stretched out, his back against the wall. The seventeen year old blond watched these strangers his cousin called friends. At least Loomis and Baldwin were gone. Two less to worry about. The man with the wild hair, Lobo, was tending the wounded man in the next bunk.
"Wheat," whispered Kid, remembering the man's name.
As far as Kid knew, Wheat didn't have a gun hidden under his blankets. The little outlaw, Kyle, stayed close by, almost hovering, watching everything that Lobo did, asking questions and generally getting in the way. Both Lobo and Kyle wore pistols strapped down on their thighs. Preacher had hung up his holster when he came inside, but his rifle was within arm's reach. The newly arrived Gutierrez and his partner Smilden sat in the back corner whispering together. Three other men clustered near the stove. Everyone was armed.
"Heyes," whispered Kid, knowing there wouldn't be an answer, his partner was in the leader's cabin tonight, "what are we doing here?"
It was nearly midnight. Shouldn't people be asleep by now? Without guns in their beds? Back in Texas, people took off their gun belts when they came inside. Kid's blue eyes blinked. The adrenaline that had been fueling him since early this morning had worn off long ago. He was beyond tired. Blue eyes blinked again. A curly blond head nodded. A head bobbed as chin nearly touched chest. A door slammed. A man stumbled into the side of Kid's bedpost. Jolted a sleeping boy. Hands moved faster than thought. Kid found himself pointing his Colt at the nose of a big, brown eyed man.
"Whoa now Kid," breathed the big man. "You don't want to shoot me."
Shouts erupted from the other gang members. The man raised his hands to either side to show he was unarmed.
"You're right, I don't want to shoot you," agreed Kid in a soft, dangerous whisper. "But I don't want you slamming into me neither."
"Well now, I didn't mean…"
Running footsteps, the door opening and closing. Blue eyes never moved from the target.
"What's going on in here?" demanded Heyes.
"That new partner of yours pulled a gun again," answered Wheat. The ailing man sounded crotchety, or maybe that was an act to cover for another feeling. "That's three times in one day! We don't need no gunnie…"
"It was an accident," stated the burly man. "I stumbled and woke him up."
Kid exhaled. Until that moment, he hadn't realized he was holding his breath. Slowly he lowered his weapon. The man crouched on the floor in front of him waited until the pistol was holstered before lowering his hands.
"Kid," ordered Heyes, "come with me."
-x-x-x-x-x-x-
"No, I hadn't even thought about that in years," smiled Lom. "Except to be glad that you and Heyes are running the Devil's Hole Gang. I hate to think what mighta happened if Harvey Loomis or Baldwin had taken over."
"We don't believe in killing," stated Kid.
For a while, Loomis, Baldwin, Gutierrez and Smilden had provided the Devil's Hole Gang some competition in the northern part of Wyoming, even venturing further north into Montana. The Loomis gang wounded a teller and killed a bank patron during a robbery in Bannack Montana two years ago. The enraged posse caught up with them and dispensed their own brand of final justice.
"You haven't killed anyone since coming to Wyoming," stated Lom with a tone of grudging admiration. "And from what I understand, the rumors about the four men in Texas are just rumors."
"Four?" asked Kid, eyebrows raising. "Last I heard it was three."
"That's what happens with a reputation, it just keeps on growing," replied Lom. The lawman nodded towards the fancy shooting iron strapped at Kid's side. "As long as you keep not killing folks, I reckon we can keep on being friends."
Kid smiled. He'd always thought that Lom only accepted him as Heyes' partner, but maybe a lawman and a fast draw could be friends too.
"I'll try my best," answered Kid.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-
"What are you gonna try Kid?" asked Heyes.
Kid looked up to see his partner approaching. The slender man sat back in his seat, opened a deck of playing cards and began to shuffle.
"Try to beat you," answered Kid.
Heyes dealt and Kid leaned forward to pick up his cards. The letter in his vest pocket rustled. Heyes' sharp ears caught the sound.
"Did you get any mail?" asked Heyes.
"A letter from Clem," chuckled Kid. He kept his voice light as he stared at the pair of black jacks in his hand. "I haven't had a chance to read it yet."
"She's probably still going on about her cousin's wedding in June," responded Heyes. "How many cards?"
Lom laid down three cards. Kid thought for a moment, kept the jacks and his next highest card, a ten of clubs. He laid down only two cards. Heyes passed him his cards, and then picked two for himself. Kid lifted up the ten of spades, and held his breath while he picked up his last card. The queen of hearts.
"Clem's cousin got married?" asked Lom. "I didn't even know she had a cousin."
"He's a lawyer fella over in Central Springs," responded Kid. "Clem's last letter mentioned she was looking forward to having a new little Hale in the family."
Bets were placed. Three matchsticks, raised to five, raised again.
"You ever think about getting married Lom?" asked Heyes.
Kid tried not to show his amusement as Lom coughed and spluttered at the question.
"No," stated Lom firmly. He revealed his hand. "What about you?"
"Not me," answered Heyes with a smile. "Lady Luck is my…"
His partner's voice faltered as Kid turned over his cards.
"Phht," muttered Heyes tossing in his cards.
Kid raked in matchsticks as Lom picked up the cards and started shuffling.
"Doesn't sound like he's met the right woman," chuckled the lawman.
"Or maybe he's met her, but just doesn't know it," added Kid with a grin.
A pretty barmaid, dressed in a dark green taffeta dress with a blue fringed shawl draped over her shoulders, arrived carrying a bottle of whisky, three shot glasses, and a platter of sandwiches.
"Do you need anything else sugar?" asked the dark haired woman as she sidled closer to Kid.
"Maybe later," answered the tall blond with a warm smile. He watched Lom fan the cards yet again. "Right now, I'm just gonna play cards with my friends."
-x-x-x-x-x-x-
