Chapter 21

The Search

Leaving the ranch, Jack Caldwell and Jed Curry rode with urgency and grim determination, each man absorbed in his own thoughts. They'd been able to discern several distinct sets of hoof prints leading away from the property and it looked like they were all heading in the same direction. It was difficult to say how much head start the others had on them and it was impossible to know what Wilde had in mind for them if he'd taken them hostage. The sheriff and the ex-outlaw had no choice but to follow the tracks and hope for the best. They had little to say to each other as they rode, both thinking of the danger ahead.

For Curry, it was personal. Wilde had stepped over the line when he put Catherine in peril. It didn't matter any more what Curry had suffered. Being accused of horse thievery was nothing, he'd faced much worse in his life—but nobody messed with his family.

For Caldwell, it had started as merely his job, but it was quickly becoming personal. He feared that his own hesitation to follow his instincts instead of the 'evidence' might end up getting innocent people hurt, or even killed. If it came to that, he knew he wouldn't be able to forgive himself. And now he had the added worry of wondering how Kid Curry would react. Images from the bedroom back at the ranch kept coming back to haunt him. From the look on Curry's face, he suspected he was seeing a variation of the same things playing through his mind. His forehead was alternately creased with worry or lined with anger.

As they rode along overlooking the river, Curry suddenly halted his horse. He strained his body forward, squinting for a better look and shouted, "There! Down by the stream! It's Catherine!" he called out as he urged his horse to move.

The sheriff had been startled by Curry's outburst. Now his face broke out into a huge grin. "I'll be damned," he muttered, chuckling softly, feeling a huge weight slip off his chest. The two men turned their horses down the steep ridge down to the river, not wanting to waste any time getting to the women by taking an easier route.

Catherine was the first to spot them descending toward them, indifferent to their own personal safety on the slippery slope. She pointed in their direction so Charlotte would se them too.

Even from a distance, Kid saw the relief on her face as the two women rode to meet the men. "Charlotte, what are you doing here?" Suddenly a new thought struck him, 'Where the hell is Heyes?'

"Oh Jed! Sheriff! Heyes has gone after Jeremiah by himself—and he's hurt," Charlotte blurted out as soon as they reached each other.

"Wilde's hurt?" Caldwell asked, reining his horse to a quick stop next to the two women.

Curry ran his eyes over both women, relaxing only after assuring himself that they were unharmed. Catherine looked down and wouldn't meet his eyes. He wanted to say something to her, but he wasn't sure where to begin. The only thing on his mind now that he knew Catherine was safe—was finding Wilde.

"No, it's Heyes. Please find him," Charlotte pleaded.

"Heyes is hurt?" Kid asked, looking up sharply, the picture of the bloody wash basin with soiled towels replaying in his mind. He'd assumed that it had been one of them women who'd been injured, but now he realized his mistake.

"Yes, Jeremiah hit him on the head. He shouldn't even be riding. He could barely sit on a horse. I'm afraid that he'll—"

"You said he went after Wilde?" Caldwell interrupted. "Alone? Why would he do that? He should have let the law deal with Wilde."

"Once he heard that you'd arrested Jed, he felt he had to bring the boy back so he could prove their innocence."

Caldwell felt a pang of guilt. If he'd known what was going on at the ranch, he would have let Curry go. He never believed the man had stolen those horses anyway.

"It doesn't matter now," Curry interrupted, as if he could read the sheriff's thoughts. "If Heyes is after Wilde, he's tracking him. If we follow those tracks, we'll find Heyes—and Wilde." Caldwell nodded his agreement.

"Charlotte, take Catherine back to the ranch. Stay there until we get back. And lock the doors," he ordered. Then, giving his horse a sharp kick, he set out to find Heyes.

"That's good advice, ladies. You'd best get on back to the ranch. We'll let you know as soon as we've captured Wilde." Caldwell tipped his hat politely and then he was gone, rushing to catch up with Curry.

After the two men were out of sight, Charlotte looked at Catherine. "He's right, I should take you back to your ranch, but…I'm worried about Heyes." She felt conflicted in her loyalties, wanting to go to Heyes, but feeling an obligation to take care of Catherine. Finally deciding what she needed to do, she asked the girl, "Can you go back by yourself?"

"No, this is all my fault and I'm not going to just go back to the ranch and wait. I'm going to follow them." She looked down at the ground and continued softly, "I have to set things right with my father…" Catherine knew she had hurt her father and she wanted to let him know how she felt…to ask him to forgiver her…but didn't know where to begin. She couldn't forget that the last time he went after men who had hurt her he had almost been killed. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if…

Charlotte thought for a moment, weighing the risks, unmindful of the girl's private misgivings. "I guess neither one of us is much for waiting around. But we'll have to be careful." She gave the girl a stern look, the one usually reserved for her rowdier students.

Catherine merely nodded meekly. "Don't worry. I'll do whatever you say. I'm just not going back to the ranch alone."

"Alright then," Charlotte agreed as the two started out again, following the tracks in the soft earth beside the stream.

Hannibal Heyes hoped he was gaining on Wilde. He was banking on the fact that the boy didn't know he was being followed. He still felt dizzy and lightheaded from the blow, but he hadn't fallen off of his horse yet, and from that he took some small satisfaction. Prometheus was giving him a steady and solid ride, moving fluidly beneath his rider, almost as though he were trying to keep him balanced on his back. 'I knew I wasn't wrong about you boy, you'll find that kid and we'll take him back together'.

Heyes sensed he was closing in on Wilde, so he began to widen his course to circle around the other man. He smiled to himself as he approached the clearing ahead, spotting a lone figure. Wilde was off his horse just a short distance away, answering the call of nature. Heyes dismounted as quietly as he could and began to move slowly toward the boy, sliding his gun from its holster as he approached. After a few steps, he stopped and took a long slow breath to try and calm the wave of nausea washing over him. He had already been sick twice on the ride and he wasn't going to let it happen again. He steadied himself and proceeded carefully, moving in on Wilde, who looked like he was about ready to get back on his horse.

"Put your hands in the air, Wilde," Heyes said as firmly as he could, given his present condition.

Wilde's back stiffened. Turning slowly to face his adversary, he reluctantly obliged, raising his arms away from his body. His face was frozen in a cocky smirk. "Well, look at you. All patched up and out for a ride," he said mockingly. "How's your head feelin'? Hope it hurts like hell." Wilde bounced a little from side to side, shifting his weight from one foot to the other over and over as if trying to disorient the man facing him. "Are you dizzy, Heyes?" he asked in the same mocking tone.

"Shut up, Wilde, or I'll shoot you right now," Heyes ordered, his features hard. He swallowed hard, trying to quell the topsy turvy feeling in his stomach.

Wilde's smirk widened into a grin. "Now that might be a mistake, don't ya think? They'd hang you for murder and your partner for thievery." His eyes glinted with a yellow light. "They do still hang horse thieves, don't they?"

"If they do, then I guess you're in a lot of trouble aren't you, since you're the one who's been stealing horses? And I'm not worried about being hanged for murder—once I get done with you, they'll never find your body anyway." Heyes blinked hard, twice, trying to focus; dizziness washed over him. He felt the ground tilt gently beneath his feet.

Wilde sensed Heyes' weakness and advanced, moving to within a few paces, his hand shifting casually to his waistline. "You've got no proof that I did anything, and Curry's the one the sheriff arrested—caught him red handed. So I think this game is just about over."

"It's over alright," Heyes growled. He took a step toward Wilde, but his legs felt spongy and he staggered sideways.

Wilde didn't let the opportunity pass. He saw the chance to make his move and he took it, reaching behind his back to grab the gun that he'd jammed into the back of his pants under his coat. Before Heyes could see him move, he had it out and pointed right at his face. "Looks like what we got here is a stand-off," he laughed coldly, advancing again toward the former outlaw.

Each man stared down the barrel of the other's gun. The seconds ticked off. "What's it gonna be, Heyes? You gonna back off and let me ride away? Or are you gonna make me shoot you?" Heyes thought quickly, weighing his choices. None of them looked good.

Above them, hidden by the leafy overgrowth, Curry and Sheriff Caldwell approached quietly. When they were close enough to see the two men, Caldwell drew his gun from its holster and took aim at Wilde. Curry caught sight of him in the corner of his eye. "What are you doing," he hissed, reaching over and placing his hand on the gun at the end of Caldwell's outstretched arm, applying enough pressure to force the gun down and away from the intended target. "You can't take a shot from this range. Even if you hit him, he could still get off a shot at Heyes—and he's close enough not to miss."

"He's gonna kill him anyway if we don't do something fast. We already know he's killed before; there's no reason to believe he won't kill again."

"Don't you think I know that? But we're too far away. You'll never be able to pick him off. We have to get closer. And let me take the shot, ok? We need to take him alive."

Caldwell wasn't sure why, but he was inclined to let Curry have his way—and the first shot. As a lawman, he should be the man responsible for taking Wilde down, not an average citizen like Curry; but he had a gut feeling that, in this case, he needed to follow the other man's instincts.

There were two things he was sure about—One, Kid Curry was at least as good, if not a better shot than he himself was, and two, he wanted Jeremiah Wilde to be taken alive so that he could prove who the real horse thief was. Caldwell knew one more thing too—Curry would do everything in his power to make sure his partner wasn't hurt.

So Caldwell held back, letting Curry take the lead.

In his impaired state, Heyes was having difficulty knowing what to do. He knew he couldn't let Wilde ride off; but he couldn't kill him either. If Wilde was dead, he'd never be able to prove he and Kid had nothing to do with the stolen horses. Catherine said they'd been found in their corral. Only a confession by Wilde would prove their innocence. Even the wanted posters on two young men matching Wilde and Rivers descriptions wouldn't be enough to stand up against hard evidence.

Finally, unable to come up with any other option, Heyes slowly let his arm drop to his side. Wilde's face broke into a grin and he swung his own arm around, catching Heyes on the side of the head with the butt of his pistol. Heyes fell heavily, dropping sideways onto the ground. Barely holding on to consciousness, Heyes groped blindly on the ground for his gun; dropped when he had fallen. But Wilde reached it first, kicking it out of Heyes' range.

"I'm getting tired of your interference, Heyes. It's time to put an end to this." Wilde raised his gun. Heyes stared down the barrel, unable to do anything except wait for the blast. He watched as Wilde's thumb pulled back the hammer; he heard the familiar click of the hammer being locked into place. "Time to say goodbye, old man. You lose."

"Damn it!" Curry exclaimed when he saw Wilde strike his partner, knowing that he was still too far away to help him. "No!" he shouted, desperation making his voice catch in his throat.

At the same moment, Caldwell shouted, "Wilde! You're under arrest. There's nowhere for you to run!" He fired a shot but his bullet fell short. "Son of a—" He let out a low, guttural cry of frustration and then charged off behind Curry.

The young man ducked instinctively and glanced back, 'How did they find me? Well, they're a little too late.' He grinned widely and looked back down at Heyes. "I guess we go together then," he said with an alarmingly bright laugh. Heyes could see his finger tightening on the trigger.

Prometheus had edged closer to where the confrontation between the two men was being played out. He watched as the 'other one' struck his master and partner, at first appearing cool and detached but becoming increasingly more restless. Initially, the only outward sign of his agitation were a series of low, warning whinnies that went unnoticed by the men. As Wilde continued to threaten Heyes, Prometheus grew more animated. He tossed his head, side to side, pawing the ground menacingly. This drew Heyes' attention but he was reluctantly to shift his attention away from the gun aimed at his face, so all he afforded the horse was a quick glance. Prometheus' motions became more exaggerated; he raised and lowered his head vigorously, sending foamy spittle flying as he let out several dangerous sounding snorts. Finally, unable to contain his anger any longer, he reared and raced headlong at Wilde, knocking him off balance and away from Heyes with his rock hard head. The man's gun flew out of his hand, landing harmlessly out of reach a few yards away.

Caldwell and Curry watched, surprised and shocked, as the horse knocked Wilde to the ground. Before they could dismount, the horse reared up over him, letting his hooves smash down onto his prone body.

Heyes could tell that the animal was preparing to rear a second time. "No, boy, don't! That's enough." Shakily, Heyes got to his feet and called out to the animal. Obediently, Prometheus immediately settled down enough for Heyes to approach him and stroke his neck soothingly.

"You have some timing, you know that?" Heyes said affectionately, trying to calm the big animal.

"Heyes! Are you alright?" Curry asked, jumping down from his horse, seemingly unaware of his injured leg.

"I've had better days," Heyes admitted dryly, "but I think I'll live—thanks to Prometheus."

Caldwell knelt beside the fallen man and checked for signs of life. "He's alive," he announced and reached to pick up the man's gun. "Looks like he hit his head when he fell back, but I can't tell if he has any broken bones. Probably does, considering the trouncing that horse just gave him." The sheriff sighed and looked down at Wilde. "One of us will have to ride back into town and get a wagon."

The sound of more horses got all three men's attention. Charlotte and Catherine had arrived just in time to see Prometheus attack Wilde, and both looked frightened but relieved. Charlotte dismounted quickly and ran to Heyes' side, slipping her arms around him. She stood there with her arms around his waist for a few moments, not speaking.

"Hey, I'm ok," Heyes said finally, giving her a weak smile.

Kid glanced over at Catherine, who had dismounted but hadn't moved away from her horse. The girl was staring at the unmoving form of Jeremiah on the ground, her hand covering her mouth, her eyes staring out wide and unbelieving above her hand. Kid sighed. She's never going to forgive me,' he thought, crestfallen.

Hoping to revive Wilde enough so he'd be able to sit a horse, thereby avoiding the need to ride all the way back to town for a wagon, Caldwell returned to his horse to get his canteen.

Charlotte had taken Heyes by the hand and lovingly led him to a patch of soft grass in the shade of some large, leafy trees. They sat there together, talking quietly, oblivious to what the others were doing.

Kid, somewhat hesitantly, began walking toward Catherine. As he looked into her face, he watched as her expression changed from one of sadness to something else; her eyes grew wide in what he finally recognized as terror and she let out a small cry. "Jeremiah, no!" Kid was startled, but, reacting more slowly than normal, only stared at her in confusion. By the time he realized what she was afraid of, it was too late. A shot rang out behind him and he turned back in time to see Wilde sprawled on his back in the dirt, staring unseeing up toward the clouds. He was bleeding profusely from his chest and a small handgun lay near his outstretched arm.

A few feet away Caldwell stood, frozen into place, with his own weapon drawn. He got up—he must have—had the gun inside his jacket," Caldwell said haltingly. "He was about to shoot you in the back."

Curry nodded slowly; Caldwell had just saved his life, and this time, Wilde was clearly dead.

"I should have checked for another weapon," Caldwell said, shaking his head slowly.

The two men locked eyes for a moment. Curry knew what he must be feeling. He could still remember how he'd felt after the first time he'd killed a man; even though it had been in self defense. Sometimes those feelings were as sharp and strong as if it had happened yesterday. He wondered if it was different for a lawman, at least he had a tin star to make it legal—part of the job. Somehow though, he doubted it made a difference.

Finally, Kid thought to look back to see how Catherine had reacted. She was also frozen in place, staring in wide-eyed disbelief at Jeremiah. When she noticed her father watching her, she quickly averted her eyes and dropped to her knees. She covered her face with both hand. Curry watched, feeling a father's pain as her shoulders began to shake. She was crying. He felt his heart break just a little.

'She doesn't want to see me. She can't even look at me,' Kid realized, swallowing back his own tears. '…but I need to know that she's alright.'

"Catherine," he began, as he touched her shoulder. She flinched at his touch and he pulled his hand away. "Catherine, I'm sorry about Jeremiah. I know you loved him."

"Loved him?" She looked up at him, her eyes full of self-reproach. Her cheeks were damp with unhappy tears. "I thought I did, but it was all a lie. He was just pretending to care about me. I was so stupid. You must hate me."

Kid's face showed genuine surprise. "Catherine, what are you talking about?"

"After everything I said…everything I did…I wouldn't blame you if you never wanted to see me again," she sobbed.

Kid could hardly believe what he was hearing, and he was having trouble taking in her words.

"I made so many mistakes…can you ever forgive me?" she continued to sob as she spoke.

"Catherine, honey, he tricked you. He's the one to blame—not you."

"I was such a fool," she said again. "He was nothing but a thief and a liar."

"You weren't the only one who was taken in. He was good. He had me going for a while there." Kid tried to give his daughter an encouraging smile.

"No, you saw him for what he was. You knew from the very beginning and you tried to tell me; but I wouldn't listen. I didn't see it until it was almost too late." She paused, studying her hands quietly for a minute before continuing quietly. "I was right about one thing though. He really wasn't anything like you." She lapsed into silence again, unable to maintain eye contact with her father. Then she looked at him, hope and fear showing in her eyes. "Can you forgive me?" She seemed on the brink of crying again.

Kid smiled sadly at her. "There's nothing to forgive, I—I love you." He realized as he said it that he'd never actually said those words to his daughter. Hesitantly he reached out to her. She stared at his outstretched hands, smiled gently, and let him lift her to her feet. He folded her into his arms and they silently held onto each other, both receiving comfort from the other.

Suddenly she pulled away and looked at him with alarm. "I thought you were in jail," she exclaimed. "Jeremiah said they were going to hang you."

"What? No, I'm fine," he told her. "Sheriff Caldwell there, he's pretty smart." He looked over to where Caldwell was beginning to load Jeremiah's body onto the back of his horse, working slowly but steadily.

"You mean he knew you didn't steal the horses?" Catherine interrupted his thoughts, still not convinced that her father was out of trouble.

"Well, not at first, but he knows now," Curry assured his daughter. "You're the one I'm concerned about. Are you going to be ok?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

Catherine looked down and replied shakily, "I think so…now that we're alright."

Kid felt his own eyes grow moist. "Everything is going to be ok. I promise. We'll get through this together," he pulled her to him again and held her tightly.

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It was hours after sundown when Kid finally sat with Charlotte in the living room of the ranch house. It had taken both of them to eventually convince Heyes to go upstairs and lie down, but he had fallen asleep moments after his head hit the pillow. Catherine had also fallen fast asleep, once her father and uncle had returned to the ranch. They had spent the afternoon and early evening in town, getting Jeremiah's body to the undertaker and having Heyes' head looked at by the doctor. After Heyes was pronounced fit to go home, and had answered the last of Sheriff's Caldwell's questions, Kid drove his partner back to the ranch in their wagon. Charlotte had insisted on waiting for them, in case Heyes needed any nursing, but Kid suspected it had more to do with her not wanting to be alone after the events of the day. It was finally agreed that she should share Catherine's room for the night.

"Do you really think he'll be alright tonight?" Charlotte asked for the third time, her eyes flicking toward the stairs leading up to Heyes' room. Each topic they had tried discussing had eventually returned to the same question.

"Charlotte, believe me, he'll be fine. He's been hit on the head harder than that lots of times," he started to smile, but the look on her face stopped him. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that," he said more seriously. "But yes, I'm sure he'll be fine. The doc in town said he just needed to take it easy for a while."

"And he said that Heyes shouldn't ride," she added with a worried look. "Do you think he'll follow the doctor's orders?"

"Well, I think he will—if you ask him to," Kid let out a small chuckle.

Charlotte cast him a nervous glance. "And…what do you think of that?" she asked tentatively.

Kid sat quietly for a minute before speaking. "Honestly? I couldn't be happier for you; for both of you."

She gave him a relieved smile. "I'm glad. I know how close you two are; how it's been just the two of you ever since both of your families were killed."

Kid stared at her, his brow rising. "Just how much has Heyes told you?"

Charlotte was suddenly sorry she'd brought the subject up. "Well, not that much really. Just…how your parents were killed, what it was like for both of you, and then about the home that you ended up in—what that was like."

Kid shook his head slowly. "Heyes has never talked about that, never, not even with me."

"Oh," she paused awkwardly, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

Kid sighed heavily as he strained to stand. "Just one more change, I guess. I'm getting used to them."

Charlotte watched him force the pained expression from his face as he took a few steps. "How is your leg tonight? I noticed you haven't been using your cane tonight, or earlier when…we found Heyes. I hardly even noticed you limping. Maybe you overdid it a bit?"

Kid started to respond with a comment about how he didn't need her 'mothering' him, but he stopped himself. To be honest, it was nice to have a woman care about him—even if she was Heyes' woman.

"I didn't have time for it when we were looking for Wilde; I guess all the excitement just pushed the pain away for a while." He paused and smiled, lost in thought for a minute. "Like that time when Lobo got grazed by a bullet while we were all being chased by a posse out of Sweetwater, rode all the way back to Devil's Hole without even knowing he'd been hit." He laughed and shook his head. "Lobo wondered why his shirt was all bloody. It started to hurt him like hell that night though." He stared out the window into the darkness for a few minutes as he remembered another time and place.

"There is still so much I don't know about you and Heyes," Charlotte commented quietly.

"You know all that really matters—how Heyes feels about you. And it sounds like he's told you quite a bit."

"I'm just glad that he's alright…I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost him too…"

"Too?" Kid questioned, giving Charlotte his full attention.

"Like the rest of my family," she said simply.

Kid gave her a startled look.

"Oh, it wasn't anything like what happened to your families. It was the small pox. It was a long time ago."

Kid listened quietly and did not comment. He merely looked at Charlotte with concern, so she continued.

"I was fifteen, and had been sent away to school. Our town did not have a proper school, and my mother wanted me to have an education beyond what she could provide. When I heard that they were all sick, I insisted on coming home, but it was too late. They were all dead, my father, mother and younger sister. I thought that if I'd been there, there might have been something…"

"You'd have gotten sick too," Kid replied quietly.

"Maybe. Still, I should have been there. It seemed unfair that I lived and they died, it didn't seem right. Afterwards, after the funeral, I went back to school. It was hard at first; but I had no home to go back to and—well, I guess I've stayed at school ever since then. I've committed my life to seeing that this town has a school where children can get an education without having to leave their families to get it. I think every town in the west should have a proper school." Her voice had become firm again as she spoke.

"Sounds like there's a lot I don't know about you either," Kid said.

Charlotte smiled. "You really should get some rest now," she said gently but firmly.

"Yeah, I suppose I should, it's been a long day. I'm glad you're here," he said simply as he began to climb the stairs.

Epilogue

Three weeks later

"Pa, there's something I've been meaning to ask you," Catherine Curry ventured in a cheerful voice as they walked along the main street of Pine bluffs. "Can I stay here even after the summer is over? Maybe Miss Gray would let me finish up some classes with her? I really love it here, pa. I love the horses and everything is so wide open and free."

Kid's heart lifted at Catherine's word. He smiled faintly. "That would be nice, but you know, your ma could probably use some help with the new baby. I know she'd like you to be there now. But…if you want to, later…you can come back and visit again. I'll talk to your mother about it."

"That would be great, pa."

"Just don't go off and get married in the mean time."

Catherine laughed. "Don't worry about that. I think I'm going to wait a long time before I get married."

"I think that's a very wise plan," her father smiled down at her.

"Now you, on the other hand, have waited long enough," She looked sideways at her father with sly smile.

"What are you talking about?"

"Uncle Heyes has found Charlotte. You need someone too."

He shook his head, a touch of sadness visible around his eyes. "Catherine, I think maybe it's a little too late for me on that one."

"Uh, uh," she countered. "Miss Emma likes you. I can tell by the way she acts around you."

"Emma?" Kid asked in surprise. "No, she's just being polite. She's polite to everyone."

She shook her head, undeterred by his arguments. "I see the way she watches you when you're not looking. She likes you. A woman can tell these things."

"A woman can, can she?" He raised his eyebrows and took in this new idea.

Catherine nodded confidently.

He glanced across the street where Emma was sweeping off the front porch of the store. He caught her eye and she smiled shyly before going back to her chore.

"Well, there is a fall social in a few weeks. Maybe I'll invite her to go with me."

Catherine grinned. "I think that's a very wise plan," she said, looking up at her father.

The End