Winter's Refuge

Chapter Fourteen

LOM

The Kid was as quiet on this train ride to Bridgeport as he'd been two weeks ago. "How's Chrissy doing?" I asked after a while.

He seemed to think deeply before he spoke. "Baby steps, Lom. She's become my shadow, but I don't know if that's helpin' her. When I'm workin' at the shop, she's in the back room. That book you gave her..."

"Huck Finn?" I asked, trying to remember.

"Yeah, that one. She carries it everywhere. I am never sure if she is readin' it or just likes to hold it."

I thought I heard frustration in his voice although he didn't say anything. Maybe I was expecting too much of him. He had matured so much in prison; I forget that he'd been a prisoner in a harsh environment for the last years. He had survived lashes and heat and solitary in a place meant to break a man. It had broken Chrissy and Heyes. I needed to find out what it had done to the Kid. He had worked and probably planned a new life for himself and Heyes, and Chrissy. The reality was it would happen but not in the way he thought. I felt guilty now about not telling him about Chrissy, but once I lied to them, it was easier to just let it slide. I don't think it would have made any difference in his plans. I hoped to really talk to him on my visit.

Originally, I had planned to spend a week with him, but I had made an appointment with the governor in three days. I was worried about Heyes' safety, even his life. Dr. Arden didn't seem to think he was in danger. He didn't know the history between Heyes and Mark McWinters, the current leader of the Devil's Hole Gang…a gang Heyes kicked him out of a few years ago.

"Does she speak yet?" I wanted to get him talking about Chrissy.

"Yes. And sometimes she surprises me. She may be silent, but she listens and I think she understands what she hears…or most of it. Need to tell you about what happened when I went to wash up in the stream."

He didn't look at me when he told me what had happened. Speaking slowly, I think he was trying to analyze it as he told me. The Kid I used to know never really thought deeply about anything except maybe the balance of his gun. Time in prison gave him time to learn to think. I was surprised at Chrissy's actions but more interested in the Kid's. I asked him how he felt when Chrissy touched his scars. He was quiet then changed the subject. I realized now Heyes had done the same thing today in the doctor's office. I was shocked at the brutality the Kid had endured that he told me about. What had it done to him that he had not told about?

"Lom, I need to ask your advice and maybe your help." He moved to sit opposite me on the train, then leaned toward me, hands on his knees. I could tell this was important. Something that he had been trying to work out himself. When he asked for help, he looked like the young Kid I had first met at the Hole.

"What do you need, Kid?"

"The sheriff, well actually the sheriff's wife, figured out who I am. It was an accident, she heard Juan refer to me as Mr. Curry. She put Jed and Curry together and came up with Kid Curry."

"Oh. Has something happened?"

"No. Not even sure she told her husband. I like where we are. People around there and in Three Birds have been welcomin' to me. Maybe that's just 'cause they need a blacksmith. I don't want to move Chrissy. Or all the hard work you did for us settin' up this ranch."

His blue eyes never left mine as he spoke, and the sincerity surprised me. Prison hadn't made him jaded even though it should have. "Tomorrow morning let's go see Sheriff Bird."

"Work the shop in the mornings. Said I'd be back tomorrow."

I tried to decide if he was saying this as an excuse or an obligation to his customers. "Just mornings? What time do you close?"

"Try to be back at the ranch by eleven to help Juan with the ranch."

"How about tomorrow morning, I help Juan while you work, and we go into town at eleven when you finish."

"Give me a good fifteen minutes to get my hands clean. We can take the wagon, probably need some supplies, too."

I gave a sigh of relief and he looked at me funny. "You know much about the Birdes, Kid?"

Just that he's the sheriff and they have enough money to live in a fancy house with an iron gate with three birds. They real important?"

"Three brothers named Birde, that's Bird with an e at the end, founded this town. When they started, Franklin ran the livery, Frederick, the saloon and Felix started a small mercantile store. They had a family farm, too. The town grew quickly because it is conveniently on the road to Colorado. Now, they are the sheriff, the mayor and the head of the city council. And the first family of Three Birds."

"They honest?"

"Yes. They all married women with money. The brothers are all just regular guys. Their wives are trying to build a 'society' in the town."

"Mrs. Birde was a bit uppity, but she paid me well." Kid's words were thoughtful.

"We'll go see Sheriff Frank tomorrow morning. Introduce you and explain what you are trying to do. I know of him. He'll be okay as long as he knows."

Kid nodded. I had bought Kid a new brown hat. With it hiding the emerging curls, he looked more like the man I had known. But the man I had known would have pulled that hat over his eyes and gone to sleep. The man here now took a book from his pack and started to read.

After about ten minutes, he looked up at me again. "Oh, and Lom, Heyes and I are not at the top of the people the Ortiz family likes. Juan made it clear he's only there to help because of Chrissy."

I looked up from the paper I had been reading. "Is he helping?"

"Couldn't do it without him."

"Want me to talk to him?" I asked.

"Nothin' to say, Lom. At times I feel the same way the Ortiz's feel. Me and Heyes are the reason this happened to Chrissy. I hate myself for that."

He went back to reading the book, but I had learned a lot about this new Jed Curry on the train trip. Now I needed to use it to figure out how I could help him."

ASJ*****ASJ

HEYES

Kid and Lom came to see me today. They still believe in me. I think the Kid was proud of me that I didn't fight. I hope so. I want him to be proud of me. He used to look up to me. Not much to look up to now. I know he's still mad at me. Gotta figure out why he's mad….no disappointed. I can't stand it when he's disappointed, never could. Worse than him being mad. Maybe he don't complain 'cause even when times were hard, he trusted they were going to get better.

After the visit, I stayed in my cell until dinner. Kid gave me a key to the lock…a lock he made. Kid can make locks…and keys. The key looks nothing like I had figured. I found which hole it fit and now am trying to see what I can hear about the next one to open. Next visit the doctor will let me use the lockpick while I'm in his office. But first I told the Kid I would read these new books on accounting. Funny to think the Kid is a blacksmith making money. Easier ways to make money, like poker or robbing. They're easier on the back too. 'Cept we don't do robbing no more. Sometimes I forget that. I like these books. I like numbers. Numbers are orderly, you can trust them. These books give me another way to make the numbers even more orderly. I tried to read the number rules until dinner, but I keep thinking about the Kid. Prison made him strong.

Didn't eat much at dinner. I think the other prisoners are watching me, waiting to hurt me. To fight me. Doctor Arden says it's in my head, but I've always trusted my gut. My guts says they are going to hurt me. I can't fight. If I do, I will go back to the dark cell. The Kid would be disappointed. I will watch the prisoners watching me and try to avoid them.

When I was back in my room, I was ready for bed quickly. I try to fall asleep before lights out. It's then that all the lights are turned off except a few in the hallway. They don't help and it's so dark in my cell. Tonight I fell asleep before they turned down the lights.

"STOP! STOP IT! LET ME OUT! DON'T GO AWAY!" I wake myself up yelling in my sleep. I had been in the closet at Valparaiso again. The dark wooden closet is built in a corner of the second floor hall. No light ever gets in there, day or night. My dreams always go there in the dark. It starts all over each time. I'm locked in. I sit in the corner with my eyes shut telling myself if I open them, I can see that there's plenty of light. But there's not. There's only darkness. And I smell smoke; it gets stronger. I can't get out. I yell to stop the fire. I pound on the wall and then the walls start to burn around me, and I don't hear anyone out there to let me out.

"Heyes, shut up!" The guard's voice in the dark sounds harsh. sleepy.

So that's where I wake up this time. In reality, the Kid ran to me in the closet when the fire started instead of leaving the building with the other boys. He brought something heavy, and he pounded on the lock until it broke. I was so scared when he opened the door, he had to step through some flames to help me stand up. The headmaster had left me there to burn. I confronted him about it later that night and he said he couldn't get to the closet and wouldn't ask anyone to risk their life to save a wayward bad boy like me. But Jed did. He came. And in all the confusion about the fire, we ran away the next day.

So tonight again, I lay awake in my bed. If I fall asleep, I will have the nightmare again and the guards will yell, and I could get in trouble. I have to stay in general population, even if it means I don't sleep. If I don't, the Kid will be disappointed.

ASJ*****ASJ

JED 'KID' CURRY

Chrissy was waitin' on the porch for me when we returned. Someone, probably Juan, had dragged a chair out there and she sat there, sittin' straight up, clutchin' her book and starin' down our road for me. Lom and I had been makin' plans for the next day. I regretted tellin' him how Juan felt about me. Except for that one conversation about callin' me Mr. Curry, we've worked together well. Our goal is the same – help Chrissy.

Juan had heard us comin'. He said hi to Lom and took our horses. "She's sat there most of the time. In the mornin' she walks down to your shop, Mr. Curry, so I follow her. Even with the CLOSED sign, some people were there each day. I sent them home. One of the men, Mr. Williams, weren't happy. Told me to get you. Grumbled real loud. Stew and biscuits ready for dinner."

"Thanks, Juan. If he's there tomorrow mornin', I'll make a point of apologizin' and take him first."

I had walked up the porch stairs to Chrissy while we talked. Her eyes followed me, don't know if she even saw Lom. "Hi, Chrissy. Told you I'd be back, remember?"

"Yes, sir."

"It's Jed, not sir." I reminded her each time she called me sir. "Lom came with me to visit. Let's go in and we'll eat."

She ignored my hand to help her up. Her eyes darted to me and then she saw Lom. She stared at him as if tryin' to remember somethin' important. "Hello, Chrissy. How are you?" he said when her eyes stayed on him.

I went into the house, and she stood up and followed me in. The smell of the stew hit me as I entered the kitchen area. Juan was gettin' to be a good cook. Not as good as his ma though. I put my pack on the kitchen table and Lom did the same. "Sit down, I'll get the food."

Lom sat but Chrissy stood silently watchin' at the head of the table. I put the biscuits on the table and dished up three bowls of stew. I always put Chrissy's food in the same bowl. None of our dishes matched and it didn't matter to me as long as they weren't the metal prison plates. No food tasted good on those; the metal taste was powerful. So, Chrissy always got the bowl with flowers on the outside. They were faded but I think they had been roses and daisies. One mornin' I used the bowl, and she grabbed it and said, "Mine." So since then, hers it was.

I put her bowl and spoon at her usual place and sat across from her. "Here's your dinner, Chrissy."

She had watched Lom since she saw him. Now she approached him with her book and held it out to him. "Thank you," she said. He understood that she knew he had given it to her and was tryin' to give it back.

"No, Chrissy. The book is yours." He pushed it back towards her. She smiled. A brief smile that made her green eyes sparkle. She held the book tightly and ran to her room.

I followed her, but did not enter. I hadn't entered but one time. She was pushin' the book under her pillow. "It's yours. No one's goin' to take it from you," I said from the doorway. When she turned back to me, the smile and the sparkle were gone but I knew I had seen them. "I like it when you smile."

She cocked her head at me but followed when I asked her to come eat.

Lom was refillin' his bowl when we came back. "Good stew. I didn't know how hungry I was."

He waited for me and Chrissy to sit down before he ate more. When we finished, I brought my bowl to the sink, Lom brought his, and whispered, "I brought her another book. Slipped it in your pack. Might help things if it comes from you."

"Chrissy, finish up your stew. Got a present for you." She ate slow and never enough if you ask me. But tonight she finished everything.

"Would you put your bowl in the sink, Chrissy?" Lom asked gently. I had never thought to ask her to do that.

She sat at the table and stared at the wall.

Lom and I moved to the main room. "Kid, I think you're doing too much for her. She can do things for herself."

I looked over to her sittin' at the table, empty bowl in front of her, starin' at the wall.

"You've taken on a lot here. It's more work than I thought and you're adding to it by waiting on her."

"Lom, I don't mind. Things need to be done and I don't have time to wait for her to do them."

Lom gave me one of them Heyes used to give me that said listen to me, I know best. "Kid, how much do you sleep?"

"Every night."

"Sleep well?"

"At first, but I wake up and worry." I wasn't goin' to tell him that, but it came out easily. I looked down at my hands and thought they hadn't been this clean in years and I was gonna get them black all over again tomorrow mornin'.

"Kid, I told you this before. Go slow. You're recovering from prison, too. Be kind to yourself, don't try and save the world in a day."

I didn't quite understand the savin' the world part, but I understood what he was tellin' me. "Okay, I'll try. But with Chrissy countin' on me to take care of her…"

"You don't have to do everything and be perfect to do that. I'll help. Juan'll help."

I looked over. Chrissy had put her bowl in the sink and had come to sit in a chair near us. I know she heard.

"Ain't no burden, takin' care of you, Chrissy. Somethin' I promised you I'd do years ago."

I thought about the book in my pack and got it. "This is for you. It's yours, no need to give it back."

She rubbed the book affectionately. "Black Beauty," she read aloud. She looked me in the eyes and showed me her ring. It was worn and thin in parts. "Promise."

I saw it then. She was fightin' to come back to me. Lom was right. I needed to stop waitin' on her. Give her room to heal, maybe trust.

"Well, I've got an early day tomorrow to help Juan, Kid, so I'm going to retire." He looked in the corner of the room. A box sat there I hadn't noticed. "Ah, glad this got here in one piece. Had it shipped to the telegraph office in Three Birds. The things from your saddlebags and some other things, including Heyes' gun and hat."

"That old black hat with the hole? You couldn't find mine, but you found that old thing?"

"Yup."

"Thanks, Lom. Heyes does seem to be attached to that hat. Or he was anyway."

ASJ*****ASJ

I wasn't as tired as usual, but I slept better. I still woke up an hour early and started thinkin' about my day. An irate Mr. Williams to deal with at the forge along with the other customers who needed help. And a trip into town with Lom to meet Sheriff Birde. Me and Heyes were never comfortable around any sheriff but Lom, so I was scared; no, not scared, nervous about meetin' one. Glad Lom was goin' with me. I'm still tired but can't sleep no more. Used to be able to sleep anywhere, deep and sound. Now I can't sleep much even in my own bed. Prison changed that. Master Haegle enjoyed wakin' me up with a lash across the back. Been thinkin' on sleepin'. Before, I slept soundly 'cause I knew Heyes had my back. Figure I won't sleep like that until he's out and here with us. And I'm tired. Always tired.

I saw Lom watchin' as Chrissy, hair wrapped in a bandana, followed me down to the blacksmith shop in the mornin'. She trails behind, never walks with me. Instead of goin' to the back room, she stood and watched me put up the sides of the building and go out and greet the line of customers. Today was different, the line was almost twice as long. And Chrissy was different today too.

"Hi there, folks. Goin' go down the line and see what each of you needs. Some of ya will have to leave your repairs and I'll work on them tonight."

I looked down the line again, relieved not to see Mr. Williams, and saw Chrissy approach the first man with a horse. "Shoes?" she asked.

"Yeah, Missy, waitin' for the smithy."

"How many?" she asked, startin' to lift each foot of the horse.

"What a minute, Missy, what are you doing.?" The man was upset but I understood. She was helpin' me. Doin' what she could.

I yelled to the line, "Stay in order. If your horse needs shoes, Miss Chrissy here will check you in." I looked over at her and winked. Before it went blank, I couldn't read the fleetin' expression.

The man she had been helpin' turned back to her reluctantly. "Two shoes," he said.

"Three," she said firmly.

"Don't try and cheat me, Missy." He scolded her but she ignored his tone. She took his arm and walked around the horse, liftin' each foot and showin' him the shoes. "One. Two. Three." she said as she pointed out the worn shoes. When she lifted the last one, she pointed to a missin' nailhole. ''No shoe. Nail."

I'd been watchin' while I helped the next people in line and took in a wagon wheel and a kitchen tool to repair.

"You're right, Missy. Three shoes and a nail."

"Name?"

"Breezy," he answered.

Chrissy giggled. Her giggle made me smile, my heart jump.

"You." She pointed at the man.

He looked sheepish. "Gregory."

She wrote on a piece of paper and looked at me so I would see her slip the paper under the horse's saddle. I winked back at her again. She stopped and stared at me, blankly. I should have just nodded, I told myself. The wink was pushin' it. But I was so amazed at what she was doin' that I wanted to jump in the air and yell.

The next man with a horse touched her on the shoulder. She jumped and stepped away before she turned to him.

"Just one shoe. She threw it two days ago but you was closed."

Chrissy didn't answer him or even look at him. But she did walk around the horse liftin' each foot. I thought I heard her talkin' to it softly, comfortin'ly. "One shoe," she said when finished. Now I understood. She had figured out a routine that would not change, a pattern she could follow to help me.

"Name?"

The man smiled. He had heard the previous exchange. My name's John Phillips of Phillips Farm and this is Boots."

I watched her write the information and again slip it under the saddle. I still had four people in my line. The next one had a cookin' pot that needed to be welded.

Chrissy's next customer came and stood very close to her. She stepped back. He moved forward. She moved back and looked at me.

I held my hand up to my customer and turned toward Chrissy. "How many shoes you need, mister?" I spoke loud enough for everyone to hear.

He looked over at me and back at Chrissy. "I just want to see how pretty she is without this bandana on her head." He reached to take it off. Chrissy froze and she retreated into herself again.

"Wouldn't touch her if I were you." I was armed. I had been practicin' each evenin' but I was not Kid Curry fast. I was Kid Curry accurate.

The man looked over at me and I saw fear in his eyes until I realized I had assumed my gunfighter's stance, feet about, arms by my side.

"Didn't mean anythin' by it. Won't touch her." The man backed away from her and ran his hand down his horse's nose. "Two. I need two shoes," he said to Chrissy. But she didn't respond.

"What's wrong with her?"

"Nothin' that matters to you." I walked over to the horse and started to lift each leg usin' Chrissy's pattern. She reached the third leg before I did and examined the shoe. I stepped back and let her finish. "One, two." I pointed to the first two legs.

"Two shoes," she said to the customer, safe in her routine again. "Name?"

"I'm sorry, Miss, I didn't mean to scare you. I wasn't goin' to hurt you."

"Name?" she asked again.

"Tommy Freedman."

She wrote out her slip and slipped it under the saddle as she pointed to the hitchin' rail to leave the horse.

I turned back and took the kettle from my customer as the young boy with the last horse stepped up to Chrissy. "Pa says he needs new shoes all around."

Chrissy checked each one. "Only three."

"Pa said all four."

"Okay four. Name?"

"Ricky Birde."

While Chrissy wrote out the slip, I studied this young member of the Birde family. He seemed polite and had patiently waited his turn. He led his horse over to the rail before he turned back.

"What time will he be done?"

I listened to hear how Chrissy would handle a new question, prepared to jump in if needed. "Eleven." She had been listenin' all those days in the back room. I always had the shoein' done by eleven.

ASJ*****ASJ

Chrissy retreated to the back room, and I started to work. I was finishin' up the Birde horse when Lom showed up with a bucket of water from the stream.

"Thought I'd make it easier to clean up," he greeted me.

I saw the Birde boy comin' up our road and led his horse out to him. "Tell your pa he only needed three, but I did all four 'cause that's what you asked for." He handed me the money and I handed him the reins.

"Thanks," he said politely as he mounted and rode home.

"Lom, will you see if you can walk Chrissy to the house. Don't want her tryin' to follow me into town. Get Juan to watch her."

"If I can."

He followed me to the back room. Chrissy sat there with her new book on her lap but lookin' out toward the house.

"Chrissy, Lom is goin' to take you up to the house. You stay with Juan." She didn't respond but I know she listened. "Me and Lom are goin' into town, shouldn't be too long. Need you to stay here." Still, she didn't move.

I went back and started to pull down the sides of the shop, leavin' the front open. "Walk back. She'll follow," I told Lom.

I started washin' my hands with Borax soap. Lom headed for the house. After a few minutes, Chrissy followed.

By the time Lom returned with the wagon, my hands were as clean as they were goin' to get for now. I replaced the bandana on my head with my new hat. Felt good. I felt more like me with a hat.

The sheriff's office wasn't hard to find. Lom left the wagon in front of Birde Mercantile and we walked the two buildings down to the sheriff's door. Lom opened the door and entered, holdin' it open for me. I hesitated. He grinned. "Come on, Kid, nothin' bad can happen to you in here anymore."

I willed my feet to move forward and forced a smile onto my face. The Birde family were important in this town.

"Hello, Sheriff Birde?" Lom asked the man behind the desk. He was probably in his early fifties, well fed with an easy smile, but eyes that studied me carefully.

"He allowed to wear that gun?" Sheriff Birde bellowed.

His aggressive tone froze any answer in my throat. I tell myself, I'm in control of my life now, but all it took was for some lawman who don't know me to make me think like a convict again.

I was thankful Lom had insisted on comin' with me. "Sheriff Birde, I'm Sheriff Lom Trevors of Porterville and this is Jed Curry, the new blacksmith."

Lom's voice sounded calm, but I could hear the edge in it. He held out his hand to shake.

"Kid Curry. I asked if he's allowed to wear that gun?" The bellow had turned into more like the growl of an animal ready to strike. His question was addressed to Lom, not me. Made me feel little, unimportant, unworthy of bein' acknowledged. Made me feel like a convict, again.

"Of course, he can," Lom answered, with an emphasis that made the question seem silly. He nodded at me.

One of the hardest things I've done was put a fake smile on my face and hold out my hand to Sheriff Birde.

"Glad to meet you, Sheriff. I believe I've already met your lovely wife."

The handshake and my words forced him to address me. "You ain't on parole or nothing?" He was still lookin' at my gun. Lom had encouraged me to wear it. He always wore his.

Lom opened his mouth to answer, but I figured I needed to handle this. "Nope. Got a full pardon and an amnesty. All my rights as a citizen are restored, includin' the right to carry a gun."

I didn't look at Lom, but I thought he'd be proud of me. He sat down in one of the chairs without being asked. "Thought Jed and I would come by and introduce ourselves."

It was the first time I had ever heard him call me Jed. I asked him about it later and his answer was simple. "Do you want them to think of you as Kid Curry or Jed, the blacksmith?"

I walked over to the corner stove. "Mind if I have some coffee?"

"Sure, sure help yourself."

I could see the empty cells while pourin' my coffee. With great control, I refused the shiver that tried to go up my spine at the iron bars.

"Mr. Curry, my wife says you did real good work fixing our gate and you charged a fair price."

"Thank you, Sheriff. And it's Jed."

"Jed. We need a blacksmith around here. Heard you have good horse breeding stock out there, too."

Lom gave me a look and he answered, "Yeah, that's the other thing we want you to be aware of."

Sheriff Birde leaned back in his chair; I read it as a defensive move. I'm still tryin' to learn to read people's body language. Heyes is good at it.

Lom's voice was conversational, but I know he was nervous about this part. He'd told me on the ride over he wanted to handle this part.

'What do I need to know, Sheriff Trevors?"

"The horse breeding operation is part of Winter's Refuge."

"Heard of them. Best stud horses in five states. Ain't they in Wyoming?"

"Yes. They bought the Old Cummings ranch and the blacksmith shop as a place for Christina McWinter to recover."

"Heard she got a parole, too. And an amnesty. Why here, why not at Winter's Refuge?"

I knew this sheriff wasn't dumb, but he was actin' like he was. He was goin' to make Lom lay it out for him.

"Someone has put an illegal reward out for her dead or alive. The Colorado governor has made it known through unofficial channels that he'll give an amnesty to anyone that brings her in dead."

I could tell that the last part was news to him. "She knows where Devil's Hole is located and how to get in. Lot of people want the Devil's Hole Gang. They're nothing but killers."

"She's a free woman. That reward is illegal and, if it happens here in Nebraska, there's no amnesty." Lom was firm.

I watched Sheriff Birde and saw concern and compassion. "She won't give up her brothers, I understand. There are others who know about Devil's Hole like you, Mr. Curry."

I stayed silent but wanted to growl.

"There's a lot of men know how to get there." I admired that Lom was able to keep his voice even. "Rumor is that some political contributor of the Colorado governor wants Miss McWinter dead. The poster says 'An eye for an eye. A sibling for a sibling."

"Saw that." The sheriff pulled out one of the posters. "Got notice from the US Marshals about these illegal posters floating around. Came in the mail. Nothing said where it came from."

Lom studied it. "You talked to the Marshals?"

"Yeah, they tried to follow the contact information on here. Didn't get anywhere." He leaned forward toward us. "What you want from me?"

"Don't give away Miss McWinter's location. Jed here watches over her."

Sheriff Birde nodded.

"She helps in the blacksmith shop so some of your residents will meet her. If Jed needs help, he may send Juan Ortiz in for you. Juan helps with the breeding operation. He's from Winter's Refuge."

"I always thought her trial was unfair. Picture in the paper she looked so sweet and scared." He stopped and looked at me, no, he stared at me before saying, "Say is she married to you or your partner?"

Lom saved me again. "Sheriff, Hannibal Heyes is still in the Wyoming Territorial Prison. When he gets out, he'll come here and be on parole. Miss McWinter's lawyer feels it is safest for Heyes…and her…if no one knows who she is married to until after that when he gets his pardon and amnesty."

The sheriff smiled. "I understand and I won't ask more. Not going to tell the wife anything but that she was right, you are Kid Curry. She was really very excited when she figured that out. You and your partner are heroes to some people. She reads all those dime novels. Believes every word."

"Oh," was all I could think to say.

Lom laughed at my discomfort. "We'll be on our way. Thanks for your help."

"Anytime. Anytime."

ASJ*****ASJ

When we pulled the wagon up to the house, I half expected Chrissy to be waitin' on the porch. Instead, Juan came outside quickly. He tied the horse to the hitchin' post with his finger to his lips. Curious, we followed him. He signaled us again to be quiet. Leadin' us just inside the barn door, he stopped. I could hear Chrissy's voice. She was readin' Black Beauty. Juan motioned me forward. Lookin' into the stall, I saw Chrissy readin' to our pregnant mare, Summer's Solace. The mare, who had been temperamental lately, was calmly eatin' oats, occasionally lookin' over at Chrissy as if listenin'.

Smilin', I backed out. Lom moved forward and smiled as he returned to us. We quietly went into the house.

"She's been like that since you left." Juan smiled. "Seems to calm them both."

"Thank you, Juan, for showin' us." I held out my hand, not sure if he would shake it. He did.

"You're welcome, Mr. Curry. Told you I'm here for Chrissy, sir."

It was enough that he shook my hand. And hearin' Chrissy's voice readin' was a delight. I was still thinkin' about it as I went back to the shop. Since Lom was helpin' with the ranch, I could catch up on the work at the smithy. I'd been there about an hour when I heard Chrissy in the back room. I had an idea.

"Chrissy," I called back to her not expectin' her to answer. "It's so quiet. Do you think you could read to me, like you did when I was at Winter's Refuge?"

I listened but I didn't hear anythin', not even the sound of pages being turned. I told myself I would try again tomorrow. Then, very softly, I heard her voice readin' Black Beauty.