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 Smith and Jones story verse as previous stories.
By George! c Dec1875
Chapter 3: Christmas Surprise
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"I was gonna say George didn't know what Remy was getting her into, ain't her fault," rasped Kid as the coughing subsided and George quit pounding his back. "Heyes and me, everything we've done has been together."
"Hmmph!" exclaimed George. She didn't like the idea that Kid and Heyes thought of her as a damsel in distress. "Just because I didn't know what Remy De Moines was planning doesn't mean I'm some flibbertigibbet needing your help!"
George didn't miss the look that flashed between Kid and Heyes. She drew back from Kid's bedside, hands on hips again, nose in the air, ready to launch into an indignant tirade.
"I can take care of myself…," began George.
Kid held up both hands, as if in surrender.
"George, all I meant is that Remy asked you to leave Texas 'cause it was best for Remy," soothed Kid's hoarse voice. "He tricked you."
The implication that Heyes might have asked Kid to leave Texas for other reasons wasn't lost on George. Aside from what George read in the newspapers, what did she really know about Hannibal Heyes? The outlaw bought breakfast, checked the telegraph office several times a day, paced a lot, carried a clean handkerchief and took care of his ill partner. George tried to imagine Remy feeding her chicken soup and shook her head.
"And Heyes has never tricked you?" snapped George feeling peevish. "Everything he's done has always been with your best interests in mind?"
"He might try, but I know Heyes too well for him to trick me," answered Kid.
George didn't miss the raised eyebrows on Heyes face, but Kid wasn't done talking.
"You didn't know what Remy was planning," reminded Kid. "After you found out what he was up to, you left at the first chance."
"Beaumont," whispered George softly. She slumped back leaning against the wall, her eyes tearing up at the memory. "The Daily Register carried an article about Mrs. Poindexter's stolen diamond necklace. The Wichita law was searching for a tall, dark haired man using the name of Remy De Moines, travelling with a woman. Me."
"Did the newspaper mention you by name?" asked Kid.
"No, the newspaper didn't mention me specifically" answered George slowly.
"Is there a wanted poster on you?" asked Heyes.
George turned to look at the slender man still standing beside the breakfast cart. Heyes popped another bite of biscuit into his mouth. He chewed slowly, and appeared to be thinking.
"I don't know about a wanted poster," answered George with a shrug of her shoulders. "It's not like I've gone into a sheriff's office and asked if they wanted to arrest me."
Kid's snort caused George to snap her gaze back at the blond. Sleepy blue eyes blinked back at her. The cold had sapped his stamina realized George. This conversation was wearing him out. She moved to stand beside Kid's bed again and fluffed the pillows.
"Lean back," urged George.
"One thing I don't get," mused Heyes. "Why is Remy still after you nearly four years later?"
George's mouth dropped open. The slim woman turned her head and patted her dark ringlets as if the answer should be self-evident.
"We were engaged," reminded George.
"Nah," said both Kid and Heyes in unison.
"And why not?" demanded George with a glare for both men.
"George, if he'd cared about you like he shoulda," answered Kid in a soft tone, "he wouldn't have…"
"What do you have that he wants?" interrupted Heyes.
George turning the full force of her scowl on the slender dark haired man.
"What Heyes means is, when you left, did you have anything that Remy might have given you, anything he mighta wanted back," restated Kid diplomatically.
George remembered her frantic dash back to the Beaumont Hotel. She'd stuffed everything she owned into her flowered carpet bag and slipped out the back. The stage leaving town passed right by the hotel. She shivered at the memory of Remy De Moines storming out the front door. Their eyes had locked for a moment before she slid down in the seat and hid. Although she hadn't seen him in almost four years, those angry eyes and Remy's enraged shout, George! still echoed in her nightmares.
"I was wearing my engagement ring then," answered George slowly.
"That fancy diamond ring," coughed Kid.
"How much do you think the ring is worth?" demanded Heyes. "Enough for him to want it back?"
"I'm not even sure if the ring is real, but I haven't had the heart to throw it away," George shook her head disparagingly at her foolishness. Drawing a shaky breath, she admitted, "I loved Remy."
"What did you do with the ring?"
"I put it away in my jewelry box that evening," answered George, her eyes widening with realization. "The jewelry box Remy gave me for Christmas, just after we left Wichita."
Three pairs of eyes exchanged a glance. George held her breath. Kid finally leaned back against the pillows, while Heyes took a moment to pour a cup of steaming brown liquid from the ornate silver teapot on the breakfast cart.
"Do you still have the box?" asked Heyes in a nonchalant tone.
George nodded.
"May I have a look at it?"
George nodded again. The astute outlaw raised the cup to his lips and took a sip. Heyes' face crinkled up in dismay.
"This isn't coffee!"
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A short while later George returned to Kid and Heyes' room carrying her jewelry box in one hand and a plain blue enamel coffee pot in the other. She stopped in front of the door. While she was tucking the box beneath her arm, the door swung open to reveal Hannibal Heyes.
"How did you know I was here?" asked George in surprise.
"I've got really good hearing, comes in handy in my line of work," responded Heyes in a low whisper as he pulled the door wide to allow her inside. "Come in, but be quiet. Kid's asleep."
The slim brunette's yellow skirts brushed against Heyes as she stepped into the sunny room. Heyes closed the door and turned to take the coffee pot from her.
"Ahh, coffee," breathed Heyes, a smile spreading wide across his face. "Thank you George."
George watched as he sauntered over to the breakfast cart and poured a steaming cup of the dark beverage. He took a sip of coffee, closing his eyes in appreciation. It wasn't until after Heyes drained the entire cup that George spoke again.
"Do you really think there is something inside my jewelry box?" asked George.
Dark brown eyes opened to see the elegant rosewood box she held forward.
"Of course, you told me you put your ring in there," answered Heyes. He gave her a conspiratorial wink. "Now let's see if there's anything else."
Heyes took the box from her hands and carried it over to the tall bureau. Nimble fingers caressed the sides of the box. Gently, Heyes lifted the lid to reveal a red velvet lined interior. He gave a low whistle at the sight of the sparkling ring fitted into the first chamber of the box.
"That's some rock," murmured Heyes. "Have you ever had it appraised by a reliable jeweler?"
"No," huffed George, "of course not."
"If it's real," continued Heyes in a low tone, "you could sell it and not have to worry about money for a while."
"And if it's fake?" George's chin quivered.
"Then you keep on asking folks if they want to help you sell your engagement ring," answered Heyes.
George blinked at Heyes' pragmatic response. Long tapered fingers withdrew the ring out and set it on the bureau, then reached into the next chamber. A small purple amethyst pendant dangled at the end of a simple silver chain.
"My mother's," informed George before he could ask.
"Then you'll want to keep it," responded Heyes. He turned to face her holding the necklace up towards her. "May I?"
George lifted the cascading curls off her neck and turned her back to the outlaw. The amethyst slipped into the hollow of her throat as Heyes fastened the clasp with a feather light touch against the back of her neck.
"There."
George turned back to face him, dropping her hands to her sides. Heyes smiled at her.
"It looks good on you," was all he said before turning back to the box.
Heyes picked up the item from the next chamber and looked at it quizzically. The gray metal key hardly looked like it belonged to the jewelry box.
"It's to wind up the music box," explained George.
"Oh?" Heyes gestured towards the velvet covered left hand side of the jewelry box. The covered section was twice as big as the three empty compartments beside it. "That's awfully big for a wind up music maker. Usually they're little tiny things. What song does it play?"
"I don't know, it's never worked," answered George.
"Oh," repeated Heyes, but this time drawing the word out soft and slow.
The renowned safecracker lifted the jewelry box up and ran his hands across all sides. On the back of the box he found the key hole. Heyes inserted the metal piece and started to turn.
"That's not the right direction," George instructed.
A sassy twinkle gleamed in the dark brown eyes that looked up at her.
"I know," agreed Heyes.
He grinned and turned the key. The bottom of the jewelry box slid forward exposing a hidden compartment. A jumble of gleaming gold and sparkling stones appeared.
"Oh!" gasped George. One shaky finger reached out to a gaudy strand of large diamonds. "Mrs. Poindexter's necklace!"
"I don't know anything about gemstones, but I'd bet good money that none of these are fakes," concluded Heyes.
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"Mr. Rembacker," Bertha's voice called, accompanied by a hard rap on the bedroom door. "I've come for the tea cart and the breakfast dishes."
George's panicked eyes looked up at Heyes.
"We can't let her see the jewels," hissed George.
In response, Heyes slid open the top drawer of the bureau and swept the sparkling array on to the crisp white shirt folded inside. Another loud knock sounded from the door. Kid stirred on the bed as Heyes pushed the drawer shut. The slender man hurried past George to open the door.
"Merry Christmas Bertha," greeted Heyes. "Thank you for a wonderful breakfast."
The older woman smiled at the praise and stepped inside to retrieve the cart. Kid winced as he sat upright.
"Would you leave the pot of tea?" asked Kid as he rubbed his hand across his upper torso. "And the honey?"
"And the coffee," added Heyes.
It wasn't until after the housekeeper left that George and Heyes told Kid of their findings. Blue eyes stared in amazement at the brightly colored jewels Heyes poured on his quilt top.
"As long as I have them, Remy will be after me," sighed George.
"Then you need to get rid of them," stated Kid.
"How?" asked George. "It's not like I can just throw them away."
"No," smiled Heyes, "but you can turn them in to the Sheriff."
"What?"
"Tell him the truth. You didn't know you had them," grinned Heyes as he sat back in the chair beside the window. The master planner steepled his fingers together. "Tell the Sheriff you dropped the jewelry box and everything fell out."
"Turning the jewels in will prove you're not the thief," nodded Kid in agreement. "Once the Sheriff knows Remy gave you the box he'll figure everything out."
The idea of freedom, freedom from Remy, freedom from the taint of his crimes, freedom to forget about him, gave George a glimpse of hope.
"You could go back to Texas and see your father," suggested Kid. "Or north to Denver to see Clem."
Was it George's imagination, or did Heyes stiffen at Kid's words? Was he still worried about George's father? Or something else?
"You still keep in touch with Clem?" asked George.
"Of course, she's one of my oldest friends, we went to school together," reminded Kid. "Friends have to look out for each other."
"Since Beaumont, I've been on the run," admitted George. "I haven't really kept in touch with anyone. Is she married now? Got any children?"
"Not unless she got married since we saw her last month for Thanksgiving," answered Heyes with a sideways glance at Kid.
George smiled, thinking of a life where she could visit friends, and not have to worry about Remy showing up. Then, the reality of Poncha Springs intruded.
"There's just one problem," declared George.
"What?" asked Heyes.
"Poncha Springs is a small town," answered George. "Nearly everything, including the Sheriff's office, is closed for Christmas."
"Does the hotel have a safe?" asked Kid. "The more people that know you turned in the jewels as soon as you found them, the better."
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"Mr. Johnson, you don't know how much I appreciate this," gushed George.
She watched the man twirl open the safe. The hotelier turned to take the tray of jewels from her hand.
"Why I just couldn't sleep at night knowing these things were in my room," declared George.
Heyes hand pressed against the small of her back, warning not to overplay her role.
"Sheriff Tate will be back tomorrow," informed the older man. "I'm sure he'll be able to locate the rightful owners. Is there anything else I can do for you?"
George's smile brightened and her glance moved past Mr. Johnson to include Bertha.
"My brother is still not feeling well," stated George. "Would it be possible to have supper sent up to Mr. Rembacker's room?"
Johnson and Bertha looked at each other. Although room service was not an expected option at the hotel, expensive jewelry in the hotel safe seemed to inspire them. Unlike her earlier request to have breakfast sent up to the room, this time there were no complaints about bringing dinner up to Mr. Rembacker and Mr. Owens' room. George and Heyes returned to the spacious front room upstairs. The curly haired blond was snuggled beneath the quilt.
"Kid's asleep again," announced Heyes. "Usually he wakes up at the slightest sound."
"Sleep is the best thing for a cold," reminded George.
Heyes moved over to the dresser and rifled through the second drawer. He withdrew a pack of cards and turned to face George.
"It will be a while until supper," smiled Heyes. "Would you like to play cards?"
"Actually," answered George settling herself in the chair near the window, "I'd rather you told me about the man who invented the late husband scam."
"Silky?" responded Heyes. "Why? What do you want to know?"
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"You won't go with me to the Sheriff's office tomorrow?" asked George in dismay.
"Our plan was for you to turn in the stolen jewels," reminded Heyes as he inserted the key into the door of George's room.
"But," protested George.
"Surely you can understand why Kid and I don't want to go to the Sheriff's office," reminded Heyes. "I'm not sure Kid should even try to get out of the room yet, he wobbles when he tries to get to the chamber pot."
George blinked at the unexpected information. Heyes, realizing that he'd said too much, froze, hand still on the door knob.
"I'm more tired than I thought, I shouldn't have said that, " stated Heyes. "You won't tell him, will you?"
"Your secret is safe with me," promised George, "but how are you going to keep Kid from finding out? He knows you too well for you to keep anything hidden."
"No," corrected Heyes. "He knows me well enough to know if I try to lie to him. If I don't want Kid to know something, I just don't talk about it."
Heyes pushed the door open. George stepped into the entrance of her room and turned to lean against the doorframe.
"After you turn the jewels in, then you get the first stage out of here before Remy shows up," continued Heyes resuming discussion of their plan. "Remy will quit chasing you once he knows you don't have them."
"What if the Sheriff doesn't believe me?" demanded George. "What if he arrests me?"
"Then Kid and I will break you outta jail," chuckled Heyes. "It's the least we can do after having you spend the day watching him sleep."
George hadn't expected to spend Christmas day with two outlaws. Kid awakened again in time for dinner and afterwards insisted on handing out some treats from his saddle bags. Heyes brought out a bottle of good Irish whisky and poured three drinks. George broke the two long red and white candy sticks Kid gave her into smaller pieces to be shared. Then she and Kid listened while Heyes read Around The World In Eighty Days aloud until Kid drifted off to sleep again. George started to open her mouth and reply, but Heyes wasn't done talking.
"Sleep and eat," amended Heyes.
"He's feeling better you know," smiled George. "I haven't heard him coughing since Bertha took the breakfast things."
"Yeah, a warm bed and hot food does a body wonders," agreed Heyes.
Something in the way Heyes said that made George wonder how often the partners had these basic comforts.
"Today was the best Christmas I've had in four years," admitted George.
"One of our best Christmas' too," assured Heyes. "It's not often that we share Christmas with a lady."
George dropped her eyes for a moment. She felt Heyes take her hand in his. For a brief moment, she had this crazy idea, but then she felt her room key pressed into her hand.
"Plus you brought coffee," reminded Heyes with a smirk. "Goodnight George."
George watched his figure retreat down the corridor.
"Hmmph," murmured George softly as she closed her bedroom door. Kid had been right when he said friends had to look out for each other, and she was gonna look after him even if he never knew about it. "Heyes, what is it that you haven't told Kid about?"
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