Chapter 10

The next morning, Kid woke late. His sleep had been littered with the debris of dreams vaguely remembered; bits and pieces, images that could not be strung together once his eyes were forced open by insistent light from the guest room window. Stretching languidly, he tossed his covers off and brought his feet to the cool floor. As he had every morning of his recuperation, he took a moment to assess the condition of his injured leg. This morning, he was mildly pleased. His leg felt less stiff, the pain less pervasive than it had been a week, days, ago. Kid smiled, wondering if this improvement signaled a beginning of a real recovery from the gunshot wound that had changed his life so suddenly. 'Maybe this is gonna be a good day,' he thought, letting that idea cheer him. He stood, testing his leg as he did every morning by gradually putting weight on it.

Taking his cane, he walked down the hallway leading to the kitchen. He'd moved downstairs into the spare room last year after being shot, leaving his own comfortable second-floor bedroom vacant. At the time, he hadn't been able to manage the stairs at all and Heyes had helped him move his things into the smaller room at the rear of the main floor. Recently, he'd regained enough strength in his leg that he could have moved back upstairs. The flight of stairs might still be difficult to manage, but he was again strong enough and mobile enough; he could have climbed them, but so far, he just couldn't be bothered to make the effort.

He had heard voices coming from the kitchen when he left his room and as he closer, the voices got louder. He recognized Heyes and Catherine and Clay, but there was one more male voice and it didn't take long for him to figure out who the extra voice belonged to—Jeremiah Wilde.

Kid felt his good mood fade and felt a twinge of pain intensify in his leg. He was suddenly irritated. He knew he'd slept later than normal but calculated that it couldn't be anywhere near eight o'clock just yet. So what was Jeremiah doing here already?

He'd planned to have a talk with Heyes privately before the kid arrived this morning. Last night, he hadn't had the opportunity. Catherine had been with them right up until Heyes wandered off to bed, buoyed along by the memory of his evening with Charlotte, grinning like a schoolboy.

Kid had wanted to warn Heyes off Wilde and ask him to give him some excuse why they couldn't take him on as a hand. Now he just had to hope that Heyes used his usual good sense and intuition to realize Kid's feelings toward the young man.

Just before he reached the threshold of the kitchen door, Kid heard Catherine laugh. It was a happy sound that made Kid's heart sink. Heyes smiled broadly as Kid came into sight. "Sleep well, partner?" he asked.

Kid scowled, nodding an affirmative, before turning his attention on Jeremiah. "A little early, aren't you?" he growled. "I said eight o'clock, as I recall."

"Yes, sir. I—"

"I told Jeremiah he should come out earlier, pa. I knew Uncle Heyes would be up and maybe out of the house before eight. And since you wanted the two of them to talk, well I just thought…"

Kid's expression softened as Catherine's voice rolled over him. He wasn't any less irritated at Jeremiah's unexpected presence, but he couldn't find it in him to be angry at his daughter because of it. And he was sure that Heyes would realize he didn't want the boy working for them. He knew Heyes would come through for him…he always did.

"Kid, it's all settled. Clay here was just about to show Jeremiah the ropes," Heyes said cheerily.

"What?" Kid's eyebrows flew up in shocked surprise. Then his expression settled back into a scowl, blacker than the one before.

"Well, sure…that's what he's here for, isn't it?" Heyes looked questioningly at Kid, confused at his reaction. He mouthed the word 'what?' to his partner.

Kid wanted to explain, to tell Heyes exactly why he didn't want Jeremiah anywhere near Catherine, but it was impossible. Catherine was looking at him with an expectant smile on her face, waiting for him to say something. "Yeah, I guess so. I just thought…well, it doesn't matter what I thought now."

Heyes nodded slowly, still trying to work out what was making Kid so irritable this morning. "Ok then…Clay, why don't you and Jeremiah get to work? Kid and I have some business to discuss." He stood up and held out his hand, "Jeremiah, Clay will see to it that you have everything you need today and I'll check on you later myself."

The two ranch hands ambled out the door, Clay leading the way. Jeremiah stole a glance backwards at Catherine as he passed through the doorway; he favored her with a winning smile. Much to Kid's distress, Catherine blushed and smiled back. Kid groaned silently, knowing that his job of keeping the two young people apart had just gotten ten times more difficult.

"Catherine, I need to speak to your father privately for a while about some ranch business," Heyes said.

"Oh. Ok, sure. I was just on my way out to see Belle anyway," she said. She gave each man a kiss on the cheek, first Heyes and then her father, "I'll see you later, Pa. Thank you." She hugged Kid fiercely.

"For what?"

"For giving Jeremiah a job. It means a lot—to him, I mean."

Kid didn't reply; he just hugged her a little tighter and then let her go, on her way to the stables.

Heyes waited until he heard the screen door slam and heard Catherine's footsteps lead away from the house. Then he waited some more, this time to hear what Kid was going to say. Kid didn't say anything. He just poured himself a cup of coffee from the big enamel pot on the stove and stood sipping it silently, still scowling, lost in his own thoughts. Finally, he noticed Heyes staring at him and growled, his scowl deepening, "What?"

Heyes' eyebrows flew up. So did his hands. "What?" he repeated, throwing Kid's question back at him in a loud, irritated voice. He moved to the range and poured himself a new cup of coffee, having let his old cup get cold again without drinking it. He slammed the pot back down on the iron surface, louder than he planned, and regretted it immediately. He didn't mean to make Kid feel worse than he already did, but he just couldn't understand what was going on with him lately. In his mind, things were going pretty well for the two of them but Kid didn't seem to be adjusting very well to being honest, law-abiding citizens.

But he had to admit, things were going better for him than they were for his partner. He's not the one who had to deal with trying to recover from a gunshot wound, not to mention a grown daughter who had an eye for the young men. And Kid didn't seem to be fitting in with the townspeople as well as he was either, spending most of his time in town with saloon girls and barflies. And it was his job to help Kid through his problems right now, whatever they might be. His voice smooth and even, he said, "Something bothering you, Kid?"

"Alright! You want to know what's bothering me, Heyes? I'll tell ya. The last thing I wanted to see this morning was you and that kid shaking hands like best friends! I don't want him anywhere near Catherine. There's something about that boy…"

"What! Well, why didn't you tell me that before, Kid? After talking to Catherine this morning, I thought sure you were in favor of hiring him. Why didn't you just tell him yourself, last night when the two of them brought it up?"

Kid looked miserable. "I couldn't. I couldn't say no to Catherine. She was all excited and happy…"

"So you were going to let me disappoint her then? Was that your plan?"

"I guess so…" he answered sheepishly, rushing to add, "But I didn't think of it that way. I just figured it would be easier for you."

"Easier how?"

"Well, you ain't her pa; I am. And I just thought you wouldn't mind…"

Heyes looked disappointed. "Kid, I'm surprised at you. I might not be her pa, but Catherine is very special to me. We're family, after all. You figured it would be ok for her to be mad at me? Better me than you, is that it?"

"Course not, Heyes. I didn't mean that. I just wasn't thinking. I didn't mean for—" Kid's misery intensified.

"Course you didn't, Kid. I know." He closed his fingers over Kid's shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. "Ok then…what next? I could go out there right now and fire Jeremiah, if you want me to. In fact, it might be a good idea. I don't really trust the boy either. There's something about him that just don't sit right with me. I can have it done in five minutes and we can just forget the whole thing." Heyes grabbed his black hat from its spot in the middle of the kitchen table and set it firmly on his head, pushing it back away from his forehead. "You stay here, Kid. I'll be right back—"

Kid grabbed Heyes' arm, keeping him from walking away. "No."

"No? But I thought—"

"Yeah, I do want him gone, but if you go out now and fire him…well, Catherine is going to know it's because of me."

"Kid, I'll make up some kind of story. She won't suspect—"

"No, Heyes. It won't work that way. She'll know. She already knows I don't like him much and she probably figures it's just because he's sniffing around my little girl…in a manner of speaking."

"Well, then what do you want me to do, Kid?"

Kid sighed unhappily. "I don't know, Heyes. I just don't. I feel so tired. I think I'm gonna just sit here for a while, before going out to work this morning." He sat down heavily. The pain in his leg was back with a vengeance.

"Ok, Kid, you do that. I'll be back in to see you after I feed Prometheus."

"Ok, Heyes. Heyes, one thing before you goes?"

"What's that, Kid?"

"I want you to stop calling me Kid. It just doesn't feel right anymore. I'm too old for that now and besides, that's a name for an outlaw. I'm not an outlaw anymore and I just want to forget I ever was. Just call me by my Christian name from now on, ok?"

Heyes looked at his life-long friend, trying to see what was going on inside his head. Finally, unable to read Kid—Jed—he nodded and walked out without another word.

"So, Clay, you been here long?" Jeremiah asked, after the two had been finished feeding and watering the horses in the barn.

"Been working here two years now."

"What's it like working for Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry?" The younger man grinned with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"They're both fair and decent men, and they pay an honest wage for an honest day's work."

"Honest huh? How'd they pay for this place anyway, with loot from one of their big train robberies?" he smirked.

"No, actually they got most of the money to buy this place from gambling. Mr. Heyes is about the best poker player I've ever seen. But they started small, just a few horses, did most of the work themselves. This looks like the first year that the place will really turn a profit, be a real working ranch.

"They only hired you because Mr. Curry got his leg hurt so bad," he added slowly, giving the younger man an appraising look.

"Hey, I didn't mean any disrespect or anything. I just grew up with the stories…you know…the most successful outlaws in the west. I just don't understand why they'd give all that up to raise a few horses."

"I don't about all that. I just know that these days they're decent men trying to earn an honest living."

"Yeah, I guess. Not nearly as dangerous as being a gunfighter, right? Say, how many notches you figure Curry has on that gun of his?"

"I don't think he has any notches," the other man said indignantly, starting to take a healthy dislike to Jeremiah.

"Oh come on, you know what I mean. How many men has he killed?"

"I know what you meant, and I wouldn't know. You'd have to take that up with Mr. Curry," Clay said curtly, turning to walk away.

"Well, he don't seem so dangerous now," Wilde said dismissively.

"Young fella, when you get a little older you'll realize that things aren't always what they seem. I wouldn't cross him if I were you. Other outlaws and gunslingers were afraid of him. Mind you be as well," Clay said sharply, turning back and giving the younger man a warning look.

"That was when he was in his prime…before he was a cripple."

"Mr. Wilde," Clay said abruptly, "you were hired to work the horses, not talk about the boss. Now get to work or I'm going to have a word with Mr. Curry and you may just find out whether or not he's still dangerous."

Hey, I didn't mean no disrespect. Wilde gave the other man an innocent smile. 'I'm not worried. He's not going to do anything to me. Not with that pretty little girl watching.' Wilde sauntered off toward the corral, smiling benignly. 'Couple of losers…they'd have never quit robbing trains and banks if they were any good at it. I bet Curry was never even a fast draw.'

"Well, I think I'm going to enjoy working here this summer." he added politely, catching a glimpse of Catherine standing by the corral watching them. "Yep, I'm gonna have a real good time."

Suddenly his thoughts were interrupted. He turned to see Kid Curry looking at him. It was his hard voice calling his name that had broken into his daydreams about Catherine. Kid gestured for him to come over, in the opposite direct from the corral and the girl. 'Dammit. Where the hell did he come from?' he thought from behind his smiling façade.

Kid didn't waste words with small talk. "Let's get one thing straight, Wilde. You've been hired to help out with the chores and work with the horses—not spend time with my daughter. Is that clear?" Curry gave the younger man a hard glare that usually made men see his side of a matter.

Wilde simply smiled politely. "You have nothing to worry about Mr. Curry. I'm a hard worker and my intentions are strictly honorable. Now if you don't mind, I got work to do."

Kid frowned and nodded brusquely, dismissing Jeremiah. Kid watched him walk away, unsure of why this boy gave him an uneasy feeling. Maybe he was jealous of Wilde's youth; maybe it was the confidence the boy seemed to exude, which bordered on arrogance; maybe it was just the idea of any young man taking an interest in his daughter.

Heyes was working with Prometheus, pleased with the progress the two of them had been making together. He felt that the mighty stallion was nearly ready to ride, nearly but not quite. He'd stopped what he'd been doing when he saw Kid—Jed—come out of the house, walking slowly and leaning on his cane. He heard Kid yell for Jeremiah and watched the boy swagger over to where his partner waited. He couldn't hear what the two men were talking about but he could see Jed's face, and he was saddened to see how tired and worn-out his friend looked. He wondered when things had gone so wrong for Kid…and why he hadn't noticed it until now.