Winter's Refuge
Chapter Twenty Seven
JED 'KID' CURRY
Me and Lom didn't talk on the way back to Cheyenne. We had rented a buggy, rather than horses, so it would be easier on him. I think he was embarrassed about needin' the buggy, but I insisted. I can be as stubborn as anyone. Now that he could go back to Porterville, I know I'd miss him. As quiet as we were on the buggy ride, Lom started talkin' as soon as we got to our hotel room.
"Kid, I had an idea I want to run by you. I realize this can't happen now, but maybe when Juan returns," he started.
"Lom, what're you tryin' to tell me?"
"What do you think of me asking Rudy to come to Porterville and be a deputy?"
I was surprised by Lom's suggestion but when I thought about it, it made sense. "You see Rudy ain't in love with ranch life, too."
"He's good at it but his heart isn't in it like Juan's. If he was going right back to college, I wouldn't ask him but…" Lom was watchin' me as I thought about my answer.
"Well, not until Juan comes back and it's entirely up to Rudy…" I was thinkin' out loud and Lom knew it.
"It would be his choice completely and not until you can spare him." Lom knew he was convincin' me.
There was only one thing that I was worried about. "Lom, if you do this, you're goin' to have to do one thing for Rudy."
"What's that?"
"You tell his ma yourself…and leave my name out of it."
He laughed as he agreed.
ASJ*****ASJ
I walked through the house tryin' to see it through Heyes' eyes. After the railroad camp, it looked like heaven to me, still does. But now I see that the hand-me-down furniture the previous owner left is old and worn. The only thing new is the two rockers on the front porch. Since Dr. Arden's visit, Chrissy has been cleanin' everything over and over. It does make a difference to have the layers of dusk off the mantles and windowsills. Chrissy watched me and I had an idea. I grabbed the older version of a catalog that Jeff Birde had given me. "Chrissy, come look at this with me."
I sat on the bench seat on one side of the kitchen table and waited.
She didn't say anything but finally came and sat next to me, hands folded in her lap.
"Let's pick out new curtains for the kitchen," I told her, openin' the catalog.
She sat lookin' at her hands in her lap. After what seemed like a long time even for her, she stood and went to the kitchen. The curtains there were faded yellow flowers and in tatters on the ends. She touched each one before comin' to sit next to me on the bench. I kept my smile to myself as she sat so close our thighs touched. Now she stared at the table before lookin' over at the curtain offerings.
"See anything you like, darling?" I asked. I kept my eyes on the catalog as I spoke. It felt right sittin' this close to her. I wasn't sure if she did it on purpose or just to see the curtains better.
She shook her head. "Expensive."
"Pick out what you like; we can afford new curtains."
I could feel her smile as she reached over and flipped the page. Studyin' each picture, she took her time. "Any one?"
"Your choice."
"Two?" she asked.
"Two?"
She didn't stare blankly but I could tell she had something in her head she was processin'. "This, kitchen." She pointed at a brightly flowered pattern.
"That will certainly brighten the kitchen."
She turned the page back and pointed to a curtain with small light blue dots on a dark blue background. "This, Chrissy's room." Her eyes immediately moved to her hands, and she moved away from me on the bench. It was the same submissive behavior that bothered me in Heyes. I understood. When the warden was speakin' to me and Lom, I felt myself fallin' back into it. I fought it. I conquered it and looked him in the eyes. I will never be submissive to anyone again.
"That will look real pretty in your room," I told her, happy she was makin' choices for herself.
Then I took a chance. I flipped the catalog to the pages with ladies' clothes. "You want to pick out something from here, darling? Whatever you want."
I got up and left her with the catalog. I had picked out the dresses she wore, the ribbons she tied in her hair, her hat and shoes. I was curious what she would pick out for herself.
I went to look at Heyes' room. I'd have Chrissy pick out new curtains to hang in here, too. His gun was not on his headboard. I looked through the drawers. Just the too small clothes of mine that Lom had bought when I got out of prison. His hat still sat on the dresser. Lom had even found that old coat of indistinguishable (Heyes would be proud of that word.) color and it hung on the back of the lone chair in there. His gun and gun belt were nowhere to be seen. I even looked under the bed. It was dusty under there, so I swept it out, still not findin' what I was lookin' for. I reviewed the people who had slept in that room – Lom, William Knight, Luke, Dr. Arden. Rudy and Juan had all been in and out of there, as had Dr. Sexton. I didn't think any of them would have taken it. But something was naggin' at me. I had seen his gun recently. I walked through the house tryin' to look closely at a place I saw every day. Then, I knew where it was. I knew I had seen it. I stood at the doorway to Chrissy's room. There on her headboard was Heyes' holster and gun. I would need to talk to her about it. Let her know Heyes' parole conditions.
I went back to the kitchen table and sat next to her. She moved closer, our thighs touchin' again and pulled the catalog closer.
"Only one?"
"Well, how many do you want?"
She froze, thinkin'.
"You can probably get as many as you want," I told her.
She stayed frozen. Then she took a deep breath.
She flipped the catalog pages and pointed to ladies' underwear, something I had never thought to buy her.
"This. This size. Three."
"Oh, Chrissy darling, I should have thought to buy this for you before." For once I looked at her as I spoke and saw her blush prettily.
She hit my arm. "Man!"
I was embarrassed, too, but returned to the catalog. "Anything else?"
She flipped some pages and pointed to a white lady's nightgown. "This?"
"Yes, of course." I'd never thought of what she slept in, probably her dress. She didn't wear long johns like me. That thought made me remember. I wanted to order new long johns for Heyes.
I had thought I was gettin' her what she needed. I should have done this earlier.
"Jed promise not to be mad," she told me. I must have let my sadness show on my face that I had not taken good care of her.
"I'm not mad. How could I be mad at you? I love you." I said it to her often now. I wanted her to know how I felt.
"Good." She flipped a few more pages. "This?" She pointed to a dress, with a lace collar and ruffles at the sleeve. "Church?"
"Yes, of course," I answered as I was addin' it up in my mind. I was goin' to owe Jeff Birde a good amount of money. but the ranch was doing well. We could afford it.
"One more?" she asked.
"Whatever you want, darling." It made me feel happy to buy things for her. "And you need to pick out curtains for Heyes' room too."
But she flipped to the men's section of the catalog and looked hard at it for a minute. "This. Jed." She pointed to a light blue dress shirt like the ones I used to wear. "Church!" she added.
HEYES
Today should be the day I get my parole, if our tracking is correct. Dr. Arden hasn't said anything to me. The Kid and Lom's regular visiting day is today. I am working at my counter in the broom factory. I keep looking at my high window. It's cloudy, overcast and raining. Maybe they can't get here in the rain.
It's quiet in here except for the trustee's count of the brooms completed. Other convicts avoid me since I saved the guards in the riot. But they don't laugh at me anymore. Not everyone wanted to riot, but I was the only one who said to stop. Not why I did it, but I gained some respect among some of the men. The leaders resent me. I try to avoid them and their kind of trouble. But trouble finds me so I'm not going to look out the window. I'm concentrating on making the best brooms as well as I can as quickly as I can.
We don't get lunch here, only a water break. It's over now and I'm still here. The Kid and Lom always come at ten thirty. Maybe we miscounted or maybe my parole has been denied. Nothing good happens to me in prison. Maybe the rain washed out the road here and the Kid and Lom can't get here. Maybe something happened to the Kid again and no one wants to tell me. Or maybe they know I had a pencil. Pencils aren't allowed. Maybe my parole has been denied because I had that pencil.
LOM
I can't tell if the Kid is nervous or excited. He controls both, but I know him well. He was waiting for me when my train got into Cheyenne. I could see him pacing the platform. We'd got a telegram to be there at noon and that the governor would be joining us.
The Kid seemed relieved to see me. I know he has found it easier to overcome the sinister menace of the front door of the Wyoming Territorial Prison when I'm with him. He told me what the guards had said when I didn't visit with him. They told him they were betting on how long it would be before he would be joining his partner in there soon. I know it upset him; he couldn't hide the tremor in his voice when he told me. And he couldn't hide his anger.
"Lom!"
"Good to see you, Kid." If you didn't know him, you would admire his calm demeanor. But I did know him. He kept running his fingers through the curls that now covered his head, each time he removed his hat and settled it back on his head. His shoulders were taunt, firmly held back. He kept stretching the fingers on his right hand, his gun hand, as he used to do before a gunfight. Both his hands were burned in the fire, but not severely. They also had deep slivers from the beam he had lifted. They had healed well, with the exception of a couple of deep scars on his left hand.
The Kid immediately started to the livery. "Rented a buggy for four."
"I can ride a horse now," I told him. I wanted to assure him I had healed and was well again, someone he could call on to help him.
He smiled a little sheepishly. "Not for you, Lom, for Heyes. Ridin' a horse as far as Cheyenne ain't too comfortable when you been out of the saddle so long," I explained, knowing what his next question was going to be.
"But you rode a horse when I came to get you?" I could see the concern on his face.
"Felt good to ride. Felt free. And the urgency to get to Chrissy was stronger than the pain in my bottom and legs. But I think Heyes will do better in a wagon."
Jed 'Kid' Curry
I think Lom understood. Pain don't mean too much for me anymore. Not after I've survived hell. Made me strong but made Heyes weak.
"You comin' back to the ranch with us tomorrow?" I asked him.
"No, let Heyes settle in there and meet Chrissy without any distractions. You got a wagon waiting in Bridgeport?"
I nodded. "It's there and this time Winter's Glory ain't the one to pull it. Took him a week to forgive me after he pulled our wagon last time. We have two mares from Colorado there. If I'd been thinkin', I wouldn't have scheduled them. They stay twenty-one days though, so they won't be picked up for almost two more weeks."
HEYES
Something's wrong. I can't tell just what time it is because the rain and clouds fill my window, but I know it must be near noon. We always meet at ten thirty. I'm not going to get paroled. I failed somewhere. Maybe it was the forbidden pencil. That was against the rules. Maybe it's because I can't find my words. I can't spend seventeen more years in here. My hand is shaking at the thought. I can't stop it from shaking. I dropped the broom I was working on, and the guard glared at me. I don't know this guard. I look up at my window to calm my racing heart, but all I see is the gloom outside, no hope.
"Heyes, stand up." I didn't hear the guards enter through the door in back of me. This is not good. We use the other door to go to Dr. Arden's office or back to my cell. This door only leads to lashes…and the dark cell.
I don't struggle as the guard fastens the shackles on my wrists and ankles. He leads me out the back door. I try to think where I have failed, why I'm not getting my amnesty. My whole body starts to shake, and I can't stop it. My mind is spinning; it's hard to think. I tried to do good. I tried hard. I let the Kid down.
JED 'KID' CURRY
I was glad I had gotten a double buggy and not a wagon. I had thought it would be more comfortable for Heyes. Now the top provided us some protection against the rain. The wind however ripped through us. Wyoming weather was unpredictable. My thoughts drifted. I didn't think Chrissy had a coat for winter. We had time to get one. I think I'll borrow the latest catalog from Jeff and let her pick out one herself.
The hostile profile of the prison came into view. Unconsciously, I slowed. I always have to take time to control my abhorrence and fear when it appears before me. I want to run the other way. But I'm hopin' today is the last day I'm ridin' out here. Today, the three of us will leave together. Heyes will come home. And I'm gonna make sure he fulfills his parole to the letter. And be free the rest of our lives.
Lom doesn't question why I slowed down. I think he understands. It is easier when he's with me. I hope he knows that without me tellin' him. When we get to the prison, there is already a buggy directly in front of the steps, a very expensive buggy. I looked at Lom who shrugged his shoulders.
The trustee, who always took our horses, came to collect our buggy. He gently rubbed the horse on the nose before comin' to me for the reins.
"Thank you, sir," I said to him as I always did. Lom doesn't miss my use of the word sir.
Lom stands beside me as the buggy is driven away. "Kid, I think that's the governor's rig. Be polite, call him sir."
I gave him a harsh look. The governor let the three of us rot in prison until it suited him to grant pardons and amnesties. Lom knew me well. He knew I was fightin' what he said. "Do it for Heyes, Kid. Don't look for trouble. And thank the governor, if you get the chance."
"I will, for Heyes," I repeated. For Heyes, I would call the governor sir. But not the warden, I told myself.
"Sheriff Lom Trevors and Jedediah Curry here to see Hannibal Heyes," Lom announced us to the guards at the door. They closed it in our face, and we waited to hear it being unlocked. I shuffled from foot to foot, impatient to get this day over. I needed to release my nervous energy somehow. Doin' it in front of Lom was okay. When the door reopened, I controlled myself and stood straight and still and held my head up proudly.
"This way," the lead guard said, givin' me a sneer to remind me that he was the one that said I would end up back in there with my partner. I ignored it and fell in the single file line behind Lom. We weren't headin; for Dr. Arden's office. This tight corridor led to a section of the prison I had never seen. It was as dark and dismal as the rest of this place. Until we stopped in front of a nondescript door. When the guards opened it, we were led into a brightly lit room with clean white walls that reflected the light. A wooden oval table stood in the middle of the room with eight ornate, wood carved chairs arranged on three sides of the table.
"Stand here," the guard said pointing to the left of the door. We did as asked. Lom was looking over the room carefully. I just noticed it had no windows, no other door. When I heard the door lock us in, I felt panic surge through me. Lom put a strong hand on my arm. That helped me hide what I was feelin'. I concentrated on standin' still, puttin' my shoulders back with pride. Now no one, except maybe Lom, could see my underlyin' fear and panic…and maybe Heyes.
Almost ten minutes had passed before we heard the door bein' unlocked. I expected Heyes to enter, but it was the warden and two guards. He didn't acknowledge us. I was surprised he didn't sit at the head of the table, but one seat to the right. The two guards stood against the wall, flankin' him. He had a stack of papers in his hand that he quickly sorted into four stacks. His glasses were nowhere to be seen. He ignored us as he continued to shuffle one of the stacks of paper until the door opened again.
Immediately, the warden stood as a well-dressed man, that I figured must be the governor, entered the room. Two men in suits followed him in and waited patiently as he looked around the room. I smiled to myself as I recognized Colin, the governor's aide and Lom's friend who had assisted in Chrissy's rescue.
"Good day, Governor," the warden said importantly.
With just a nod to the warden, the governor passed his eyes over him to settle on me and Lom. "Sheriff Trevors, Mr. Curry," he greeted us and extended his hand.
"Sir," I answered, shakin' his hand.
"Mr. Curry, it is a pleasure to meet you."
"Er…it's a pleasure meetin' you too, sir. And thank you for all you've done for us."
He seemed pleased at my response. "I was very impressed with your prison record, Mr. Curry, especially with the railroad contract. And how you handled yourself with Colin in Colorado. You rehabilitated yourself, despite the circumstances. Your actions went a long way toward me granting your pardon and amnesty. The other two owe theirs to you."
I knew he was talkin' about Chrissy's rescue and the pardons and amnesties for Heyes and Chrissy. "Thank you again, sir," I repeated. I hadn't realized my struggles had affected the others." I didn't know what else to say. The warden had left his place at the table and now stood shoulder to shoulder with the governor. "Sir, you'll sit at the head of the table next to me."
The governor turned back to me. "Gentlemen, I'm glad we have gotten to this point with Mr. Heyes. His further success depends on you."
"Yes, sir," Lom answered for us both.
We stayed standin' while the governor and the others took their seats. "Convict Heyes should be here in a few minutes," the warden told the room.
I felt uncomfortable when the governor looked at us again standin' where we had been told.
"Gentlemen, please sit down," the governor told us.
Both me and Lom looked at the warden before movin'.
"I was going to have them stand next convict Heyes while we process him. They are his parole officers." Now the warden was lookin' uncomfortable.
"Sit down in the front two seats, Sheriff Trevors and Mr. Curry. You can stand with Heyes when he comes." As the governor spoke, there was a knock on the door.
Heyes, accompanied by two guards, was brought in fully shackled. He was submissive, refusin' to look up, and visibly tremblin'.
"Why is this man in shackles?" the governor's bellow filled the room.
Heyes looked up but quickly returned his eyes to the floor.
"I thought it prudent," the warden answered, but his voice wasn't as assured as it had been.
The governor turned to the warden. I don't know what he quietly said, but the warden motioned to the guards. "Remove them."
Heyes stood motionless as the guards unlocked the shackles and left them where they fell to the floor. Heyes made no move to step away from them. He looked cowed, scared.
"Mr. Heyes, please step up to the table." The governor's voice was kinder than I expected. Then I remember he was a friend of Dr. Arden and had been gettin' his reports of Heyes.
Slowly, Heyes limped to the table, not lookin' at anyone.
"Sheriff Lom Trevors, Mr. Jed Curry, you have agreed to serve as Mr. Heyes' parole officers. Would you please stand with him." The warden's voice was all business. I still thought he resented the governor gettin' involved in his prison business.
We stood next to Heyes. I made sure our shoulders touched to try to give him strength.
"Mr. Heyes, will you please look at me," the governor requested in a soft voice.
When Heyes struggled with the command, the warden spoke sharply, "Convict Heyes, look at the governor when he asks you to."
Heyes did not look up but the tremblin' got worse. I moved even close to him, afraid he would fall.
"Partner, look up. It's okay. I promise you, I got your back," I whispered.
"Jed, you are not allowed to speak to the prisoner," the warden warned loudly.
I don't know if it was my promise or the warden's harsh words to me, but Heyes looked up, first at me then at the governor. I could feel the effort this cost him. I think the governor understood it, too.
"Mr. Heyes, I believe that the conditions of your parole have already been reviewed with you. Is that right?" I was glad that the governor was takin' the lead in questionin' Heyes. His manner was quieter, calmer.
Heyes had kept his eyes on the governor. Now he nodded his head in answer.
"Mr. Heyes, can you answer me in words?" The governor was leanin' forward.
Panic filled Heyes' eyes. He shook his head and looked to me for help. "N…n…n…" He tried to speak, but the harder he tried, the farther the words seemed to be from him.
Impatient, the warden said harshly, "Convict Heyes, how can we release you if you can't speak."
Heyes started to crumble, but focused back on the governor. Me and Lom each put an arm around his back for support. The governor spoke kindly. "No problem. Dr. Arden has reported your difficulty in speaking to me. He assures me you understand even the most complex concepts and that includes the conditions of your parole. Is he correct?"
Heyes leaned into my shoulder. If he hadn't, I think he would have fallen down. Lookin' at the governor, he nodded yes. His breathin' was quick and I noticed that Lom was standin' just as close to him on the other side to support him.
The governor continued, "And do you two men agree to see that Heyes adheres to the conditions of his parole, as you have been advised."
"I do," Lom answered, and I repeated, "I do."
The governor rose, walked around the table and held out his hand. "There are papers to sign but, Mr. Heyes, let me be the first to congratulate you on managing to stay out of trouble for six months, something you couldn't do all the years you were here."
Heyes shook the governor's hand in slow motion, as if he thought it was a dream.
"Your parole has been granted. And in six months, if you follow all the conditions, I will sign a pardon and an amnesty for you."
Heyes looked at me for confirmation. I grabbed him in a bear hug and spun him around. He hugged me back as if holdin' on for his life.
"You did it, Heyes! We're walkin' out of here together today just like I promised."
"Congratulations, Heyes!" Lom shook his hand, holdin' his arm with his other hand. "Kid can't wait to get you to the ranch and put you to work on his books."
The papers were passed around and we each signed every paper four times. The copies were given to the governor, the warden, Lom, and Heyes. We figured the parole officer copy was better off with Lom. Heyes' copy would be at the ranch with me.
HEYES
I don't think it was a dream, although I have allowed myself to dream about getting my parole occasionally lately as it grew closer. I had convinced myself earlier that it wasn't going to happen. Now I held my papers up high and kissed them in front of everyone.
When the door of the room opened, Dr. Arden was waiting there to tell me how proud he was and give me a package. It was clothes. Real clothes. Black pants and white shirt clothes. Folded on top was my old vest. "Sorry I didn't know what size boot you took or I would have gotten you a pair." The doctor seemed to be apologizing.
I shook his hand and patted him on the shoulder, something I would never have thought to do an hour ago. He handed Lom my chalkboard and a box of chalk when he thought I wasn't looking.
The governor had been watching and now cleared the room. "Gentlemen, let's move to the hall and allow Mr. Heyes to change in private." He slapped Lom and the Kid on their backs, and I thought of the burns on the Kid's shoulder, but I didn't see him flinch. Alone in the conference room, I took out the clothes. I looked around slowly; no guards, no one watching. I was really alone for the first time in years. I panicked a little at that thought so I busied myself changing into my civilian clothes. They felt like freedom. I left my prison garb neatly folded on the table, picked up my parole papers, and opened the door.
The Kid, still with that smile on his face, was waiting by the door for me. I tapped him lightly on his shoulder and said, "P-p-partners!"
He answered, "Always". He lifted his hand and I saw my old black hat, my favorite hat, in his hand. He put it on my bald head as we walked out the front door of the prison together as he had promised me six months ago. I looked up and realized that the rain had stopped and there was a rainbow just like a five-year-old girl had drawn for me a while ago.
I took the chalkboard and wrote, "Now six months parole before pardon."