The sun in his eyes woke Jed Curry in his New York hotel room. Finding the bed beside him cold and empty, Curry called "Cat?" Then he remembered that his bride was spending their last unmarried night with her cousin-in-law-to-be, Beth. As the Kid yawned and sat up, he reached for his pocket watch in the drawer of the hotel's bed-side table. It read 6:30. The naked Curry stretched luxuriantly. He had plenty of time before the double wedding at 8:00. He reached again into the drawer. There was a little velvet covered box that contained a gold ring with its tiny diamond safety in place. As Heyes' best man, it was Jed's job to guard that ring with his life and get it to the church. Heyes was doing the same for his partner.

At Heyes' rented room a few blocks away, the darker ex-outlaw was waking up. He, too, reached for his pocket watch. He looked at the dependable old machine in dismay – the crystal was shattered and the watch had stopped at 10:13. It must have been the time of the attempted robbery, when Heyes had vaulted up the stairway. He hadn't noticed at the time how his hips had hit against the iron rails. The old watch had given itself up for its owner, but now he didn't know what time it was. The light outside seemed right for it to be early enough, and his instincts told him that he had plenty of time. But, distrusting himself, he washed, shaved, and dressed rapidly. He grabbed a bagel and coffee at a nearby deli – but not the one where he had been asked not to return. Heyes hurried along the sidewalk along toward the Black Eagle Hotel where his partner would be waiting.

After Curry had had an excellent room service breakfast of flapjacks, ham, and eggs, he dressed in a new dark grey suit that he had had tailored for him on this trip to New York. He put on a spotless new white shirt with a high collar. He hardly needed to brush his still very short golden hair. He put on his lone pair of cufflinks – tiny gold nuggets won off a miner at poker during his out years. He straightened his tie and went down to the hotel lobby where he and Heyes had planned to meet. Jed Curry had scarcely settled into a comfortable arm chair when Heyes came in the hotel's revolving door. It was the first revolving door Curry had ever seen and he still found it kind of fascinating after several days in the hotel. But Heyes wasn't concerned with the revolving door. He cleared his throat in agitation. His hands were in his pockets.

"'Morning Heyes," called Curry casually as his partner came in "You didn't lose the ring, did you?"

Heyes replied with a nervous grin, "What, you want me to pretend I lost it? Not this morning, partner. Got it right here. You read over the vows? You ready?" Heyes' eyes had automatically swept the room to see if anyone had paid the infamous pair any attention. No one had. The hotel employees already knew who the boys where and no one else was hanging around this time of morning to care. Heyes hadn't quite gotten used to routinely using his real name.

The Kid grinned. "Yeah, I'm ready. I ain't nervous. Reverend Harrah will there to help us out if we go wrong."

Curry's partner spoke quickly, "Yeah, of course. I'm fine, too." He paused and made an effort to relax. "It's Beth I'm marrying. What's to worry about?"

Jed grinned. "You'll find something. Maybe her family? You got the vows memorized?"

"Yeah."

"Thought so. You was born to study, partner. Not me. Born to shoot is more about size of it. I'll just repeat after Reverend Harrah."

Heyes made a move to consult his pocket watch, but stopped before his hand got to his pocket. "Let's go. Don't want to be late."

"Aw, we got plenty of time, Heyes. Could walk there and make it fine."

The darker ex-outlaw looked a bit more relaxed. "Really? My watch broke. Today of all days!"

"How'd it break?" Curry asked.

"Last night when I went after that old thief. Must have hit it on the porch rail. Smashed the crystal like an egg shell."

"Bet that left a bruise!" Heyes grimaced as Curry chuckled inconsiderately at his partner.

Heyes declared, "We got to be not just on time – we got to be early. Can't stand up those ladies at the altar. Or all our friends. So what time is it?"

Curry pulled out his pocket watch and stared at it with what seemed to Heyes to be unbearable deliberation. "7:20. We got plenty of time."

Heyes sputtered at Curry. "You're a regular New Yorker, are you? Know the whole route and what the traffic's like this time of morning, do you?"

Curry shrugged as they started toward the door. "No, I guess not. Is it busy out there?"

Now it was Heyes' turn to chuckle. "Morning rush hour in Manhattan and the man asks if it's busy. Of course it's busy! Ten of thousands of people are going to work. So we'd better get to work, too. Let's get that cab. That's why I wanted to meet here – plenty of cabs around a hotel."

"Oh. Guess that's right, here in the city. There's no cabs by our hotel at home. Alright, partner. Ring's in my pocket. See? So let's go."

The sun was blazing on this warm June day, though it was wasted on the dull grey buildings. The only greenery to be seen was a potted geranium on a balcony across the street, bravely putting out a brilliant red bloom.

Heyes waved his hand and had them a cab in no time. They were at the big old stone church well before 8:00 AM. Now even Curry felt a bit nervous as they went in a side entrance that led to the vestry. It felt strange to stand among the choir robes and stacks of hymnals. They hadn't been in a place like this since they had been small boys. The Kid's voice was very soft as he asked his partner, "What do you think they'll look like? Cat and Beth?"

"Even prettier than usual," said Heyes with confidence. "Happy, I hope."

The pair found the reverend waiting for them in the vestry, adjusting his collar. "Are you gentlemen ready for your big day?"

"Yes, sir," said Heyes. "We've been over the vows, have our rings ready. Are the ladies here?"

"Yes, but they're still primping. You're in plenty of time. Do you either of you have any questions?"

The boys exchanged a glance. "No, sir," said Curry. "Guess not. Bit late to worry now."

The reverend smiled at them encouragingly. "In that case, I had better go out front. I'll let you know when the ladies get here."

The boys both paced up and down near the door. Reverend Harrah had left it a bit opened so they could hear some talk from the gathering crowd. They recognized the voices of many friends, although they couldn't really hear what was said. But a few words were audible now and then in an unfamiliar, gruff baritone voice from someone who had to be sitting very near the altar. ". . . outlaws? . . . How on earth . . . ? . . . marrying Beth . . . more sense . . . not even working . . ."

Heyes and the Kid exchanged uneasy glances. This had to be the man who was about to be Heyes' brother-in-law, Corey Dunham. He didn't sound exactly happy with the arrangement. But a voice a lot like Beth's was heard trying to calm him down and argue for the boys. That had to be Beth's younger sister, Barbara. It sounded like the former outlaws had an advocate in her.

Heyes sighed. He wasn't surprised that having two former outlaws join the family didn't meet with universal approval. The grooms would try to forget about it until after the ceremony. Joining three families couldn't be a neat or easy process. Especially not when one of those families consisted of the most notorious pair of ex-outlaws in the nation.

The reverend's voice came softly through the door. "Mr. Curry, Mr. Heyes – we're ready for you."

The two retired outlaws straightened their ties and stepped through the door into the nave. There would be no fancy ceremony today; no walking down the aisle. The four to be wed would simply gather before the altar that they found adorned with golden flowers. The murmuring crowd fell silent. Heyes looked up to find Beth smiling serenely as she came to stand at his side. He gulped. He had never seen her look so beautiful before, with her brown hair gathered up elegantly behind her, smooth and shining. He had heard of brides being radiant – now he knew what it meant. He hardly noticed the Columbia blue dress she wore or the differently colored blue one that Cat wore. He only looked into the shining brown eyes of his bride and took her hand. He could feel the presence of his friends from East and West, but didn't spare them a glance. That would come later. Heyes swallowed hard, remembering Marie Homer's funeral in this same church not long ago. Beth, thinking of the same thing, squeezed her fiancé's hand gently.

Jed Curry looked into blue eyes of his bride, who was no longer quite so slender as she had been. But she was aglow with happiness as she took her intended's hand.

The reverend spoke to the assembly in a warm voice charged with an infectious happiness. "Friends, we are gathered together in the sight of God to witness and bless the joining together of Hannibal and Elizabeth, and of Jedediah and Catherine, in Christian marriage." It felt strange to them all four to hear these formal names that they used so seldom. Yet it felt right, on this special occasion. The two couples listened carefully to what the Reverend had to say to them as they entered this new time in their lives.

"I am accustomed at this moment to speak some words encouraging the bride and groom to approach their coming marriage thoughtfully and reverently. I ask them to remember the seriousness of what they are about to undertake together. Yet it seems to me that any such words would be almost comical if said to two couples who have been so faithfully committed to each other for so long. These men and these women have long been resolved on matrimony in their hearts. They are well prepared for this moment. They have been kept from the altar only by their fear having the law tear their unions apart. Since that threat is now past, they come now to the altar without more delay. And here their friends gather, now openly rather than in secret as they did formerly. Now the names that we give these two men are their true names, rather than aliases. These names their brides may take without shame."

These words told powerfully to the two couples. Cat looked up at Jed, blinking back a tear. Heyes lifted Beth's hand to his lips and kissed it gently.

"So now I welcome you, Jedediah and Catherine, and Hannibal and Elizabeth, into a new state. Things will not be as they have been before. You may well be surprised how different life is for you, once you are united in matrimony. Now you shall begin Christian unions, and Christian families, in the sight of God and with the open support of your loving friends. Where you had formerly to live in secret and in fear, hiding behind lies, you can now live openly and honestly. And your unions can be honest therefore. That will make all the difference in the world. There will certainly be new dangers and new difficulties for you to surmount together, but also unexpected joys. The darkness of fear that you endured is past. The light of truth is before you."

Heyes glanced down at Beth. He could see her struggling not to grin at this solemn moment, so now he could scarcely keep a broad smile off of his own face. Jed and Cat both looked so serene that it was hard for their friends to believe, until a corner of Cat's mouth twitched and a sparkle in her eye was reflected in Jed's.

"The covenant of marriage was established by God, who created us male and female for each other. With his presence and power Jesus graced a wedding at Cana of Galilee, and in his sacrificial love gave us the example for the love of husband and wife. Now Jedediah and Catherine, and Hannibal and Elizabeth, come to give themselves to one another in this same holy covenant."

"Who comes to give Elizabeth in marriage to Hannibal?" He looked into the congregation.

"I do!" declared Dr. Leutze, coming to stand at Beth's side. The bearded man dabbed at his eyes with a handkerchief as he smiled down at his friend and colleague, so like a daughter to him.

"And who comes to give Catherine in marriage to Jedediah?"

"I do," said Harvey Wilde, rising to stand before Cat. He smiled sheepishly at the lovely blonde young woman who ran the most dangerous saloon in his town. The sheriff had once stood before the alter himself and he was remembering the day. He missed his wife, who had not come with him from Colorado. The smile faded from his lips as thought about why she had not come.

The reverend looked out at the congregation. "If any man can show just cause why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else forever hold his peace." There was a short silence, the folk in the pews hardly breathing. Considering who stood before the altar, it seemed very possible that someone would speak up.

But no one said a word. Dr. Leutze and the former Sheriff Wilde went to sit down. This day was for the two couples.

The reverend turned to Heyes, who felt as if his world hung on the next few minutes. "Wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God's ordinance, in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?"

Heyes felt the blood pounding in his ears. "I will," he stated.

The reverend turned then to Beth. "Wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God's ordinance, in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love him, comfort him, honor, and keep him, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only until him, so long as ye both shall live?"

Beth said, "I will."

Heyes took Beth's hand and said, clearly and steadily, repeating after the Reverend, "I Hannibal, take thee, Elizabeth, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance: and thereto I plight thee my faith." He resisted the urge to sigh in relief that he had gotten through it without one slip or awkward pause.

Now Beth took Heyes' hand, and looked him with such love that he could hardly wait to kiss her. She repeated after Reverend Harrah, in her warm voice, "I, Elizabeth, take thee Hannibal, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, and to cherish, till death do us part, according to God's holy ordinance: and therefore I give thee my faith."

Beth watched uncertainly as Jed Curry pulled the little box from his pocket and opened it for his cousin and best man. Beth knew that Heyes had a ring for her, but she knew nothing about it. It took Beth only an instant to recognize the ring that she had seen so often on the hand of so dear a friend. She had first noticed the delicate gold band while watching Marie Homer bandage Heyes' bullet wound. She blinked back tears as Heyes silently slipped the cool golden circuit around her finger and kissed her hand once again. The ring seemed to warm at once. The reverend smiled. "You may kiss the bride."

Heyes leaned forward and delicately touched Beth's chin, looking into her eyes. She stood tip toe to meet him. They exchanged as long a kiss as they dared to in this sacred space. The soft sounds of sighs and sobs came to their ears as if from far away. Jed grinned at Beth and Heyes and then at Cat, as the newlyweds' lips parted.

"I now pronounce you man and wife!"

Now the Reverend looked to the other couple, both blue-eyes blondes, and led them through the same ceremony. Jed was surprised at how steady his voice was, saying the unfamiliar words. He was glad that he and Cat were going second so he had had a chance to hear it all once through. During their long years as fugitives, the boys had not exactly attended a lot of weddings. He recalled only one, when they had been small boys. In fact, the little gold-haired Jedediah had been the ringer bearer for some much older cousin he couldn't remember very well. He thought the couple had probably both been killed on the same day when his and Heyes' parents had been slain not very many years after the wedding. He hoped not, but he supposed so, since he had never heard of them again. He only prayed that his fate and Cat's would be far, far happier.

It seemed no time until Jed was repeating the beautiful, old fashioned words about plighting his bride his faith. Then he heard Cat's voice, unaccustomedly soft, repeating the same words to him. Heyes had the ring waiting – the new gold ring that the golden-haired pair had chosen together from a good jeweler that Dr. Goldstein had recommended.

Then it was time for the kiss. Jed leaned down, brushing aside a stray few long, golden hairs from his new wife's face before they softly kissed, restraining themselves before their crowd of friends. But they felt the promise of far more kisses to come.

As the ceremony was completed, the two new couples heard happy laughter and sighs from their friends in the pews. They turned to face them and to walk down the aisle together, all in a group of four. The church organ played joyous music for them. It was strange, Heyes supposed, that the only relatives he knew of and cared about were the three people who had stood with him at the altar – and the fourth who was there in Cat's womb. Other than Beth's sister and her husband, new in-laws whom he had never met, the other people in the church were friends. They mingled the West with Columbia University, the law with the Leutze clinic. They were mostly friends of the grooms, particularly Heyes, to begin with. But now they were all shared alike. Heyes thought that he had never seen so many smiles in all his life.

As the newly married couple went down the aisle, Heyes glimpsed one frown on the face of a man he didn't know. He ignored the man, whose identity he could easily guess, and went smiling on his way with his arm around Beth. Beside them, Jed and Cat walked along holding hands. Rice flew through the air and friends laughed and called good wishes.

"Congratulations, Heyes and Beth! Congratulations, Jed and Cat!" cried Jim Smith without a single stutter.

As Heyes turned toward Jim, a familiar voice with a Mexican accent came from behind his back, "Congratulations, Hannibal!"

Heyes, in happy surprise, turned and reached for his old friend and former boss's hand. "Thank you, Big Jim! Thank you – for everything!"

"Wow, Big Jim, you and the Mrs. made it all the way from California!" exclaimed Jed, shaking his friend's hand in his turn. "Cat, Beth," he said to the new brides, "this is Big Jim Santana, used to head up the Devil's Hole boys, before we did. He helped out Heyes with his education. And this is Mrs. Santana."

"I owed Hannibal, after he gave me the best advice of my life and got me to go straight, too, ladies," said Big Jim, clapping Heyes on the back. "I didn't want to listen to him, but Clara convinced me to," the greying former outlaw added, putting his arm around his wife. Heyes had never liked the woman, after all the lies she had told when they had first met. But his meeting up with her had certainly turned out well in the long run.

"Listen, Heyes," cried Jed over the voices of their friends as they stepped out the broad double doors onto the church steps, "they're ringing the church bells for us! Ain't that nice, Cat?" Cat smiled and nodded. The bells were almost too loud to talk over.

"Why, so they are, Jed!" answered his partner, shouting over the brilliant notes of the bells. He turned to smile down at his petite bride. "Listen, Beth! Who'd have thought? For us!"

Beth laughed up at her new husband. "And why not, Mr. Heyes? Let the bells ring and let everyone look! You heard the reverend - we don't have to hide any longer."

A few historical notes: The vows exchanged above are authentic for a Methodist wedding of the late nineteenth century. The word "obey" was not used in the vows for the woman by the date of this ceremony in 1891. I have changed and abridged the rest of the ceremony for creative reasons, and for brevity. The title of Reverend was often used by Methodist ministers in the nineteenth century.