Dinner at the Green Tree Hotel was very subdued. Beth ate with Heyes in his room, watching her stricken husband every minute. Corey tried without much successful to keep things pleasant at the table so his children wouldn't be upset. Barbara hardly knew what to say to Cat, much less Jed. The Kid's poor appetite spoke volumes about the load of guilt he was bearing. Curtis and the little girls were almost silent, feeling the stress and grief of the adults. The only happy aspect of the meal was that Aunt Bertha came down from her room to join the rest of the family rather than eating her usual lonely dinner on a tray. But even she wasn't exactly up to joking. The concern of the whole family was palpable.
When dinner was over and the little girls has been put to bed, Jed went upstairs to pack. Corey went to work on the hotel's books. He found the logical order of the numbers soothing; and it left the women to talk without a man to bother them. Barbara gave her son a loving hug as Curtis went to read himself to sleep in his room. She had a feeling she knew what book it would be – her new in-laws' names would figure prominently.
Barbara brought tea and the ladies gathered around the big old dinner table to drink it and talk – all except Beth, who was still with Heyes. The hotel's window sashes were propped opened to let in the balmy June night air; a soft chorus of insects sang in the background. The peaceful, soothing sounds seemed a strange contrast to the events of only hours before.
"So, how's your husband, Cat?" asked Aunt Bertha.
"Don't you want to ask that of Beth?" asked Cat crossly. Everything she had heard for hours had felt like an indictment of her beloved husband.
"No. I think I know how Beth's husband is – unless he's doing better already. I think somebody needs to ask about Jed Curry," said the boney old lady before she took a sip of hot tea.
Cat appreciated the honest concern about the man she loved. "About driven to distraction, Aunt Bertha. He feels terrible about what he did to Heyes, of course. He feels just as bad about what he said to Heyes – implying any cowardice of that man is unjust and he knows it. He was trying to shame Heyes into coming west with him, and that was wrong."
"It was, but understandable, I guess," said Barbara. "They've been together so long – it must be hard to split up."
Cat nodded over her steaming cup. "Yes, and Jed still needs a deputy. Every single man that Sheriff Wilde asks refuses the job in no uncertain terms. Jed can't be on duty 24 hours a day! He's the bravest man in the world, but he's only got one pair of eyes. And one pair of hands, no matter how fast they are."
Barbara spoke sympathetically, "Oh, Cat, we know that. Nobody thinks Jed meant to hurt his partner – except maybe his feelings. And everyone knows how brave he is. But I have to wonder. Jed has taken care of himself for six years without Heyes or any other man to watch his back, as he says. Why is he so worried now? Does wearing that tin badge make such a difference?"
"Yes!" exclaimed Cat. "Jed knows the outlaws and lowlifes out West. I don't have to tell you that he was one of them for fifteen years. He knows how they hate a man who turns to the law. They feel like he knows their secrets and will rat them out, as they put it. And the lawmen hate an outlaw turned lawman even more. Outlaws become sheriffs more often than you might know, or they pretend to. Often they use their badges just as cover for wrongdoing. A lot of lawmen must be assuming Jed would do that; if Heyes was by his side, they would be really convinced of it. That's what Heyes said, and now, Jed figures maybe he was right."
"And, I guess, having to use his real name makes it even worse, right?" speculated Barbara. "Every hot-shot in the West must want to beat Jed. They wouldn't have known Thaddeus Jones from Adam – but Kid Curry's another matter."
"Exactly!" said Cat. "With that tin star and using his real name, Jed feels like he's got a great big bull's eye painted on his back. He hopes the pressure might settle down after a while, or he tells me that to make me feel better. But for the moment every criminal will be out for his blood, no lawman will support him, and every young hot shot going will be looking to beat him out. He so needs a p . . . a deputy."
"Doesn't Jed have an ally in Lom Trevors, the sheriff who got them amnesty?" asked Aunt Bertha.
Cat shook her head. "No, Aunt Bertha. Lom Trevors retired, after getting hurt badly while he was chasing some dangerous outlaws. He was at Heyes' graduation with his right arm in a sling. He might never be able to use that arm again. And besides, he's all the way up in Wyoming."
"Poor man!" said Aunt Bertha. "I feel for you and Jed both, Cat. Your husband is turning to a hard way of making a living."
"He wouldn't do it if the amnesty requirements didn't make him. I wish he could just stay at home and run the hotel," sighed Cat. "But if he has to be a sheriff, he's determined to make a good job of it. He loves Louisville and wants to keep those people safe. After all, it's where we'll raise our children." Her hand touched her slightly swelling belly.
They heard slow, soft footsteps coming down the stairs. It was Beth.
"How is he, Beth?" asked Cat in concern.
"Asleep, at last," Beth answered wearily. Yawning, she sat down and gladly allowed her sister to pour out some tea for her.
"And how are you, dear?" asked Aunt Bertha. "You must be worn out with worry."
"Yes," said Beth. "We're both worried sick about Jed."
Cat was startled. "Jed? Aren't you worried about whether Heyes will get language back?"
Beth sighed. "Of course. I'm worried sick and Heyes is more scared than he dares to show. But we see cause for hope. He's already using and understanding the gesture sign system we use at the clinic. There has to be some return of language – both expression and comprehension - for that to be possible."
"Do you really think he'll recover – be just like he was?" asked Cat fervently.
"We can't know, but he could at least get very close. I've known a couple of people with mild head injuries that caused a temporary recurrence of aphasia. Both recovered language, although only one – a young man – really got back to where he had been. Which isn't to say his speech was perfect – he'd been badly hurt before. But Cat, we both know - well pardon me Cat, but we know Jed is going to have trouble. We think he can handle it as well as any man on earth, but it won't be easy."
"We? How do you know what Heyes thinks or knows when he can't speak or write?" asked Cat, mystified.
Beth patiently explained. "Like I told you – we're using the system of gestures from the Leutze Clinic to communicate. It's very limited in what it can get across, but it wasn't hard for me to guess what he meant. He kept making the signs for gun – that's one's obvious - and badge – pointing to his chest - and Jed's name sign and pointing West and looking very, very concerned. When I questioned him in signs, he confirmed that I was right. And we'd talked about it over and over before today, so he was just referring back to those discussions. Heyes has been worried about Jed the whole time. But when he suddenly found out that Jed really didn't have a deputy or any hopes at all of getting one it put such a lot of pressure on Heyes all at once . . ."
Cat took up the thought. "It kicked off the fight. Honestly, Beth, I can understand why Jed was mad, but why was Heyes so furious? I mean, before Jed hurt him. What pressure was he feeling? Sorry if it sounds like I'm attacking your poor husband but . . ."
Beth fought through her strong emotions to respond, "That's exactly what you're doing – and I – I guess I sort of understand. I can only say it was acute guilt and jealousy on Heyes' part. Those are bad reasons to strike anyone, much less his own partner. But Heyes is no more perfect than any other man. There are some very bad flashes sometimes, as I think you know."
Aunt Bertha probed more, "Guilt, I can see. Every instinct Heyes has must have been telling him to stay by his partner's side like he did for all those years. Every instinct - except the one to stay by his own wife to protect her. And his duty to those amnesty requirements. And his studies and his ambitions for the future. Quite a lot of things, really."
"Yes – a real battle of loyalties in one man's heart," agreed Barbara. "Heyes has a terribly strong sense of honor for an outlaw."
"Ex-outlaw!" Beth retorted.
"Sorry. Ex-outlaw. But jealousy?" asked Barbara.
"Come on, Barbara," answered Aunt Bertha. "What red-blooded man wouldn't envy the adventures Jed has waiting for him? Especially the man who always used to share in those adventures – who has to give that up now. Hanging up his pistol and his pick-locks has to be a terrible assault on what Heyes would see as his manhood. Jed might have to wear a badge instead of running from the law, but he still gets to be an authentic western hero. If he does anything at all, with that big name of his - he'll be celebrated in newspapers and books from coast to coast. People love a good sheriff almost as much as a stylish outlaw. But who writes dime novels about math professors? We know it's just as heroic, Beth dear, but the public doesn't understand that."
Beth nodded. "That's too true. And if you don't think I feel guilty for my part in making Heyes stop having adventures, you don't know me very well. I feel the appeal of that gallant western outlaw as much as any woman alive. I hate to see him reined in, by those amnesty documents or by his injuries. Or by his responsibility to me."
Cat stared at Beth. She had never really understood before and wasn't sure that she did now. "But Beth, doesn't Heyes want to teach more than anything? Hasn't he dreamed of it since he was a boy?"
"Yes, but a man can want more than one thing. That early dream was interrupted pretty powerfully for a long time by some other urges. It's hard to change so far along in life. Terribly hard." Beth took a sip of tea and looked very thoughtfully into the cup.
"Heyes isn't the only one giving up things. When you have a baby, you'll have to give up your wonderful career," said Aunt Bertha. "People think a woman doesn't mind. I know you will, between maternal bliss."
Beth nodded. "I would miss teaching. But I do so want a baby to love and raise. And so does Heyes."
Cat all but whispered, "And I'm expecting, so I hope Heyes isn't jealous of Jed's fatherhood."
"Of course he is! As old as I am, we don't even know if I can have a healthy child," said Beth in a voice charged with competing emotions. "You're so young compared to me, Cat. I'm sorry. We rejoice in that coming child and want the baby to be healthy and happy. We'll love him or her with all our hearts. But we do want one of our own."
"We four have so many hopes in common, and so much history. How on earth did those beloved men of our ever come to blows? At their ages, they should know better," said Cat.
Aunt Bertha nodded sagely. "They should. But who doesn't do things that they know better than? They knew better than to steal, but they did it. It took them fifteen years to act on knowing better. In this case, it was only a few minutes. If Heyes hadn't turned his head at the wrong moment, or Jed hadn't swung in just that spot, they would have just cooled down and everything would have been fine."
"I wonder if maybe something else wasn't at work there, too," said Barbara. "Beth and I were talking the other day about the long-term effects of violence and trauma on men – on people - be they former soldiers or outlaws or orphaned boy. Sometimes that kind of experience, even long before, can do things to men's tempers. I wonder if that awful history they told us about might have been showing itself? It isn't long, after all, since they were in prison and dealing with that violence and suffering. Especially poor Heyes, beaten and tortured and put on bread and water in the dark when he thought he might be behind bars for the rest of his life. In fact, he must have been nearly certainly prison would be for the rest of his life. Coming back to peaceful life so quickly can't be easy, even for a remarkable man like him."
"I wonder, Barbara," asked Beth, "if you might just be right. But it's getting late and I'd better go back to that remarkable man. He might need me."
"Of course he needs you!" said Aunt Barbara. "And Jed needs his wife, too. After all, it's the last night of their honeymoon." She winked saucily at Cat. So everyone was smiling a little as the tea gathering broke up.
They all blushed a bit as Jed came down the stairs. "Is my wife down here with you gals? Oh, here she is." Looking at the blushing women, Curry said, "Should my ears have been burning, ladies?"
Cat giggled, thinking of what Aunt Barbara had said. "Aunt Barbara was reminding me that it's the last night of our honeymoon."
"So it is, honey. Let's go give these good women proper reason to blush!" said Jed with a bit of a forced smile. He took his wife's hand and led her back up the stairs.
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In the wee hours of the morning, Beth suddenly woke up. Her husband was twitching and moaning. She shook him awake, listening desperately in hopes he would say something. Often it was during the middle of the night that a man with aphasia might say his first word, when his guard was down. But Heyes only panted and held Beth tight. He said not a word. Beth stroked his hair and his face, his neck, and shoulders. She soothed him back to sleep with kisses, trying not to think about what might have been haunting his nightmares. Heyes had never told Charlie Homer was his greatest fears were, but Beth knew pretty well. Eternal silence was certainly one of them.
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Early the next morning when the sky was soft and grey just before sunrise, Kid Curry stood on the little Cheat, West Virginia, railroad station platform. He looked around the tall oaks and tulip poplars that shaded the lake where he, Heyes, Corey, and Curtis had so recently been fishing. Life had seemed so good and easy, at least for that moment.
Corey was waiting in the wagon. Cat stood next to her husband. She whispered to him, "Honey, take care of yourself, will you? I won't ask you to be less bold and brave than you always are, but just have some sense. Remember, a whole town is going to be depending on you. Not to mention one wife and one son or daughter – at least one. We all need to have you alive. A good deputy will help that, but you can make it by yourself it you have to – at least until you can find somebody. Wilde maybe could help out so you can get some sleep. Heyes should never have said what he did about you and gotten you all riled up. You're the bravest man alive!"
Curry kissed his wife and gently caressed her middle. "Oh, Cat, it's hard to go away from you. Both of you. You take care of yourself and the little guy there. Please tell Curtis and Beth, and Barbara and Corey, and Aunt Bertha, all again how sorry I am. And when Heyes can understand, please tell him I'm awful torn up about what I said – not just what I hit. I said some awful things to him."
Cat nodded. "The worst was when you asked him to leave his own future to go back out West with you. It seemed like you said anything you could think of after that to push him into it, to hurt him into it. Though he also said some awful stuff to you, trying to excuse himself for not going along."
"Only because of what I said to him," Curry caressed his wife's cheek. "I know I can look after myself without him. I have for six years, after all. So he ought to know it, too."
Cat added, "But it won't be so much fun. You want the past back again. You can't have it. Nobody can ever have that." She paused a moment, thinking. "Jed, is that why you goaded Heyes into shooting against that German champion? To prove to him that he can still shoot and do all those western things a deputy needs?"
Curry nodded again. "You're right. I keep hoping he won't have to give up the stuff we used to do. He was so good at it. But if he's gonna teach, he's gonna have stop being an outlaw, all the way stop. He can't go around with pick locks in his boots and a pistol on his hip any more than I can hang around drinking with our old friends on the wrong side of the law. Like Beth says to Heyes, we can't go back. We gotta go on. Things are gonna be really different for both of us."
"That's what makes it the future, Jed. It's not like the past. Take care. Here comes the train. I love you!"
Curry kissed her one more time and then climbed up to the train car with his saddle bags. "There's one thing I hope won't be like it was," he called back. "I hope Heyes gets well fast this time! Look after him - and yourself, love!"
The hotel's wagon stayed at the train station a long time while Cat watched the train steam off to the west. The horses shifted restlessly in their harness. Cat listened to the echo of the whistle from the green mountains that were so different than her native western mountains far away in Colorado. "Go on, Corey," said Cat at last. "Let's go back to the Green Tree. I hope we'll have good news to send Jed very soon. And that he'll have good news for us."
