Winter's Refuge
Chapter Thirty-One
HEYES
The Kid's safe will come next week. I chose three and he picked the most expensive. He didn't take money from the blacksmith savings box to pay for it. The money from the stud fees go into another envelope. He didn't take it out of there either. I know where he keeps that one. I balance it for him. All of this money will go into the safe. The Kid asked if I want to know the combination or if I want to try and figure it out. I want to listen to the tumblers, but I don't know if they will talk to me anymore. I don't know if I know how to listen to them either.
Now the Kid wants to build onto the house. He wants to add three bedrooms upstairs and an indoor privy downstairs. I don't know why. We each have a room. Juan and Rudy use the upstairs room in the barn. We don't need more rooms. Only very rich people have an indoor privy. These things cost money. We need to save money. I don't know what the mortgage on this ranch is; I haven't been here a month and we have not paid the mortgage yet. I want to make sure he keeps this place.
The Kid says we have enough money. We were never good at saving any money. We were very good at spending the money from our robberies freely and quickly. I don't want the Kid to be broke again. But he insists on putting a second story on the house. He showed me a drawing of what he was thinking. He let me make changes. This is going to be expensive.
We will order the wood and other supplies when we go to Cheyenne for my first parole meeting. I don't want to go. I don't know what to say to the board. The Kid and I are working on more words. I've added 'Hi' now. We were working on 'Thank you' but now we are working on 'Thanks". I don't know if I'll be able to say it by the meeting. I'm glad the Kid will be with me. We will ride horses to Bridgeport. Bridgeport is in Cheyenne County. I'm allowed to go there without permission.
We take the train from there to Cheyenne. I'm worried about the train. There will be people I don't know there. The Kid says sometimes they recognize him. I don't want to be recognized by anyone. I am nervous the train will be robbed. It is an easy route to rob. Later that day I have to face all those men in suits, my parole board. They can send me back to prison. I don't know if they even need a reason. The Kid and Lom will be at the meeting, too. The Kid says I don't have to look at them. I can look down, but it is better if I look them in their eyes. Afterwards, Dr. Arden is going to meet with us in our hotel room. What if they find some reason to put me back in prison? I have been good, but it was my fault Chrissy was locked out of the house. Someone could have hurt her out there and it would have been my fault.
JED 'KID' CURRY
Now that Chrissy was feelin' better, I respected her privacy and didn't go into her room without being invited. But I need to talk with her without Heyes around, so I went out with her when she was milkin' the cow.
"Chrissy Darlin', we need to talk about those letters."
"Mine."
"Darlin', look at me. Are those the letters from ranchers who want to bring their mares here? Do you have the breedin' calendar?"
She glanced at me but looked quickly back at her cow. "Jed promise no mad." It was a statement, not a question. I had told her that I couldn't get mad at her. She was right, I don't think I'd ever really get mad at her.
"I promise, I won't get mad at you."
"No." She stood up and I carried the milk for her as we walked to the chicken coop. "No," she repeated.
She stopped gatherin' eggs and put her basket on the ground. I put the milk bucket next to it. She rested her hands on my chest. It had become a habit, a habit I enjoyed.
Surprised at her answer, I asked, "No?"
"The Kid promise no mad at Heyes." She pounded my chest with each word, not hard but I think the contact helped her to talk to me about some things.
She had called me Kid like Heyes does. This was about Heyes, and this was important to her. She was protectin' him. "I promise I won't get mad at him."
"Good. Yes. Chrissy Darling has breeding calendar."
I put my hands on her sides. I wanted to hug her tight, but restrained myself. "And you've been answerin' the letters comin' in and bookin' the mares? Callin' us the Curry Ranch? "
"Yes. Jed promised no mad." Again, she pounded my chest with each word.
"I'm not mad, Darlin'." I didn't say anything now but we needed to talk about the name of the ranch. The three of us together need to decide on a name.
"Good. Come. Show." Three more punches in my chest, one for each word. And just leavin' her eggs on the ground, she headed for the back door. I grabbed the milk and the eggs and put them on the kitchen table as she led me to her room. I waited outside her door until she realized I wasn't beside her.
"Come in, now." Diggin' papers out of the bottom drawer of her dresser, she turned the light up to be bright. She sat on the bed and patted next to her. I sat down.
She was amazin'. The calendar was labeled Curry Ranch and was booked perfectly with the horses and owners' names written clearly in each little square. "Is that William Knight, again?" She nodded and ran her finger down the log she had created listin' dates, owners, horses and fees. "Chrissy Darlin', this is beautiful!" I leaned to her and kissed her on her hair as I had done when she was sick.
She smiled and looked at me. I knew she was thinkin', but she was lookin' at me not the wall.
Tappin" her head, she said, "Again, please."
Her laugh when I repeated the kiss made me smile as a thought struck me. Suddenly a lot of things made sense. Heyes had changed the subject or walked away when I asked about the breedin' calendar. He'd been distracted searchin' on the table for something and I'd watched him search the kitchen drawers for something the other night. "Does Heyes know you did this?"
Lookin' down, she shook her head. I put my finger under her chin and lifted her eyes to meet mine. How could I make her understand that subservient behavior needed to be stopped? "Don't look down. Look at me. I promised I wouldn't be mad at him, remember?"
She maintained sweet eye contact with me. Her green eyes held the promise of a lifetime for me. "Let's tell him he doesn't have to worry about it because you've been keepin' it up."
"Like before," she said. "Before at Winter's Refuge." Of course, I should have remembered. She managed everything about that ranch before she went to prison. But when she got released, she would never have been able to do something like this here. She had come a long way. But we still needed to discuss the name Curry Ranch.
HEYES
"Th…Th…Th…" I can't do it. I can't force the word out of my mouth. I pound my fist on the table.
"I know, Heyes, it's hard. Arden says patience is what you need. The words will come when you feel safe." The Kid seems to be all patience. I'm not. Thanks will be a useful word when I help him in the smithy. And at my parole hearing. It is only three days away. The Kid ordered me a new white dress shirt for the meeting. He has one, too, he says he will wear.
"Th…Than…" I push the papers on the table away from me in anger. It's an easy word. I could say it when I was three. Why can't I say it now?
"That's better, partner," he said, but I could tell he was thinking something else.
I wrote, "What?" on my chalkboard.
"I was just thinkin' about what Arden said. You do feel safe here, don't you?"
"Yes," I said quickly, although often I don't. I don't want the Kid to think I'm frightened or I'm not grateful. I am. I wouldn't be able to do this with anyone else. But I still get scared of something every day. Today I'm scared thinking about the men that will come and work on our house. They're a threat.
"Heyes! I'm talkin' to you." The Kid sounded irritated.
I was lost in my thoughts again. I need to tell him about the workers.
"Sor…ry." I looked down. No, I need to look up. The Kid doesn't like it when I look down. I found my chalkboard. "Don't feel safe with workers here. Threat."
The Kid looked thoughtful. He didn't used to think deep about things. That was my job. Now he does everything. And he's good at it all. "Heyes, I'm worried about that, too. Tryin' to be real careful. Only usin' men Sheriff Birde recommended. Let's watch them close the first few days they are here, alright?"
I jumped when I heard a wagon outside. I hadn't heard anyone open the noisy gate. The Kid looked concerned. His gun was hanging by the door. Putting on his gun belt he drew it before he opened the door. I waited in the kitchen. Actually, I'm hiding in the kitchen. I can hear the Kid but not see anything. I want to help him, the Kid might need backup. I want to have his back. I see the broken milking stool in the corner. The broken leg will make a good weapon. But I'm going to stay here in the kitchen where I feel safe.
The door squeaked open. I wonder if the Kid leaves the squeak there on purpose.
"Hi, there, Mr. Curry, we have some rocking chairs here for you." It wasn't a voice I had heard before. It sounded friendly. How did they get by the gate quietly?
I heard the sound of his gun slipping back into the holster.
"Been waitin' for those. Let me help you." The Kid sounded friendly. He didn't see a threat here. I walked to the front door and looked but didn't go out to the porch. He was carrying a rocking chair up the steps. The two men, no teenagers, were struggling to pick up the other.
"Let me get that," the Kid told them as he helped them get the rocker off the wagon. Then, he shook them off and carried the rocker to the porch by himself.
"Heyes, I left some change on the table. Can you bring it here?" It was an order. I wanted to say, 'yes, sir,' but couldn't get the words out. That was good because I remember now, he does not like to be called sir. And he uses it sparingly. He used it for the Governor. I have to be careful not to call him sir. But it is hard. When I don't add it, I cringe, waiting for the billy club to hit me. I need to remember the Kid doesn't have a billy club.
"How'd you get the gate open without makin' noise?" The Kid was sitting in one of the rockers waiting for me to bring him the money.
"Oh, it was open. Didn't know if we should close it behind us or not. Do you want us to close it when we leave?"
JED 'KID' CURRY
"We'll be back tomorrow night." I have repeated this over and over to Chrissy. She understands. She just doesn't want us to go. Rudy will be here to watch over her and Sheriff Birde knows where we are goin'. I've had a sign up in the smithy for a week that says we will be closed Thursday and Friday. I am worried about the gate bein' left open the other day. Rudy said maybe it was him, but I'm thinkin' maybe it wasn't. Heyes and I rode around the ranch every day but didn't find anything suspicious. Rudy is on alert. We didn't tell Chrissy.
Heyes didn't sleep last night. I heard him pacin' all night. He was dressed in his new white shirt and ready at sunrise.
'Hi," he said as I started to make breakfast. I like hearin' him speak.
"You sure you want to eat in that shirt?"
"Oh." He went back to his room and changed into an older shirt.
Chrissy and Rudy joined me at the table. Heyes took a spoonful of eggs and one slice of bacon and sat down. Lookin' at me, he said, "Thank…s."
I smiled. He had been workin' hard on that word.
Rudy had Winter's Glory ready for me and Fall's Bell for Heyes. In addition to our searchin' the ranch, me and Heyes have been ridin' often the last two weeks. I think it's healin' for him to ride free. He insisted on stayin' on the ranch. I think he feels safer on our property.
He carefully packed his chalkboard in his travel bag and checked that it was there three times before we left. We rode steady in quiet companionship until we reached the edge of Bridgeport. Then I could see his body language change. He became timid, frightened. He pulled Fall's Joy closer to my horse. I had timed it so we had little time before we caught our train, little time for him to think. Our train arrived just as we reached the platform. I had to nudge Heyes forward to climb the steps into the railroad car. We entered through the backdoor of the passenger car and I was relieved the last row was empty. We sat there, our backs against the wall, Heyes in the middle seat, me by the window, and our travel bags in the aisle seat so no one would try and sit there.
The steady click-clack of the wheels made the trip seem long. The fast beatin' of my heart brought Cheyenne in sight before I was prepared. At our stop, I nudged Heyes, but he didn't move.
"Hey partner, we're here. Let's go." I stood up, he did not.
"No," he said, shakin' his head. I realized he was usin' that word to describe his fear, not defiance.
I sat down next to him. "Heyes," I whispered. "We gotta get off. We gotta do this. Me and Lom will be right there with you."
When he's angry, his brown eyes turn black. When he's frightened, their chocolate seems to melt. His legs started to tremble. I helped him stand up, tryin' not to be obvious. I handed him his travel bag and grabbed mine. He leaned into me, and we left the train. Lom met us by the stairs. He understood the trepidation Heyes was feelin'.
LOM
I could see the outright fear on Heyes' face. He'd had the best poker face I'd ever seen. I supported him, actually both him and the Kid, for leaders of the Devil's Hole Gang. They were the best at what they did. No one, except the Kid, knew what Heyes was thinking, and even he couldn't read him all the time. Now every thought, every emotion, every fear showed on his face.
Now he was frightened. He walked off the train leaning on the Kid, studying all the people for a threat. As I went toward them, hand extended, the Kid stopped and spun Heyes around. He put his hands on his partner's shoulders and said something to him. Heyes was more in control when they turned back to me.
"Hi, Heyes." I held out my hand.
He took my hand and shook it. "Hi," he answered.
I smiled. That was a new word. "I got the rooms already. You two are sharing. I'm across the hall." I took his travel bag and walked at a brisk pace to the hotel. We just had time to drop our bags off and walk to the meeting room. I wanted Heyes to be in there before the parole board assembled, to get comfortable in the surroundings. Jumpy, he couldn't stay seated in the audience chairs. He'd sit and stand up and walk around. The Kid sat quietly, calmly watching Heyes. I gave him a questioning look and he just shrugged his shoulders.
The parole board entered as a group led by my friend, Colin, the governor's aide. I had met him when I was a constant nuisance in their office trying to get amnesty for the boys. The governor followed next, then the warden followed by the others. I didn't know the governor was on this committee. I hoped he was on our side.
When the board was settled, Colin stood up. "Hannibal Heyes, Sheriff Lom Trevors, and Jedediah Curry, please stand before the board."
I was almost as nervous as Heyes. I had been to parole board meetings before, but none this important to me, to my friends. Heyes stood in the middle, emulating his partner's straight stance.
The governor let silence sit in the air. I think Heyes drew his patience from the Kid, who looked calm. I knew on the inside both were nervous. The Kid controlled it well, Heyes did too.
I was the one that was shuffling from foot to foot.
The warden and the two men next to him were brazenly glaring at the Kid and Heyes. I admired the Kid's control. Although he seemed oblivious to the attention, he met their glares with blank stares of his own.
"Since we have not heard anything from you, Sheriff Trevors and Mr. Curry, can we assume that things are going well with Mr. Heyes' parole?" The governor had been our ally and his tone indicated that he still was.
"Yes, sir, "I answered and I was pleased the Kid also said, "Yes, sir."
"Thank you, gentlemen. You may sit down." The Kid backed up and sat down without taking his eyes off Heyes.
But I stayed where I was. "I do have a request for the board to consider." I was going to wait till the end to ask, but it might be better to ask now. It might do Heyes good to hear this.
"Yes, sheriff, what is it?" the governor asked.
"I know the restriction on Heyes… er Mr. Heyes and guns, sir, but is he allowed to carry a knife? There is a continuing threat, as you know."
"What threat?" the warden demanded.
The governor ignored him. "Yes, I am well aware of this threat, and it is nothing to take lightly. The board will take your request under consideration and let you know at our next meeting."
"Thank you, sir." I finished and sat down next to the Kid.
Heyes seemed to shrink without the Kid by his side. Now it was his turn to shuffle from foot to foot. His head dropped to look at his feet and his hands folded in front of him.
"Mr. Heyes, how do you feel you are doing with your parole?"
"Oh." Heyes turned around to look for his chalkboard and realized he left it at the hotel. In a panic he turned to me and the Kid.
Calmly, the Kid stepped forward. "Do you have paper and pencil? My apologies, I forgot to make sure Heyes brought his chalkboard."
"Certainly." Colin efficiently produced paper and pencil.
Heyes thought for a moment and wrote, "Parole going well. Accounting is good work. Like working with the horses. Not crazy about shoveling up after them." He turned the paper toward the men. I watched the governor fight a smile and the warden suppress his annoyance.
"Very well, Mr. Heyes. We are finished here for today." The governor grinned at us. "Next time you are to take responsibility for bringing your chalkboard. Do you understand?"
"Yes," Heyes answered as he wrote, "Yes, sir," on the paper and showed it to the governor.
HEYES
The parole meeting was easier than I had thought, except I forgot my chalkboard. I panicked when I didn't have it with me, but the Kid took the blame. I'll make sure I have it next time. It's my responsibility, not his. But he is one of my parole officers, so I guess he considers himself responsible.
I was thinking about the knife. I would like to carry a knife. The Kid said that Juan saved Chrissy by throwing a knife at someone. I don't know Juan, but he was protecting Chrissy. Maybe he can teach me how to throw a knife. I know the threat is closer than we think.
"HEYES!'" The Kid's voice broke into my thoughts. I forget where I was for a moment. I am excited about the knife. I looked at the Kid.
'Heyes, you wanna get something to eat in the hotel restaurant?" The Kid waited to walk with me. I tried to walk next to him. He wants that so bad. I want that, too, but I get scared. Too many beatings for not following the rules in prison have left scars that seem like mountains to get over. Walking next to someone in charge is one of my mountains. The Kid is definitely in charge everywhere he goes. It's something about the strength he exudes.
He asked if I want to eat in the restaurant. But I don't want to eat in the restaurant, even with the Kid and Lom there besides me. "No," I tell him, but look at his face to see if he is mad. Instead, he puts his arm around my shoulders. "Eatin' in our room sounds good to me, too. First, we need to go to that supply store across the street and order the wood and supplies for the remodel. Got the list right here."
I don't want to go into the store with him. It looks dark in the back. Lom went to have a drink and will meet us in our room with food in an hour. The store is huge. The aisles are small, and they seem to get tighter as we move further in toward the counter. I don't usually look up, but here I do. And I stop and can't move. There is lumber stacked above our heads on long beams. High stacks and stacks of boards are everywhere up there. They will all fall on us, crush us. My feet are stuck to the floor and my words are stuck in my throat. I can't warn the Kid. He's walking further into the building, into danger. I need to get by this fear. I force myself to look away from the ceiling. I am sweating; I still can't move forward. Trying to stop the shaking of my hands, I can't breathe. There are bins of nails closing in on either side of me. I think the boards above me are moving, getting ready to fall.
'KID!" I yell out the word I have been working on in my bedroom for a week. I had intended it to be a casual, "Hi Kid," when I first said it. But I need it now.
"Heyes?" I heard the Kid's questioning answer in front of me, echoing my urgency. Then he was there in front of me. He didn't say anything but looked around. We were alone in the aisle. He looked me in the eyes and put his hands on my shoulders. I saw his concern and felt his strength. It was what I needed, his strength, his fearlessness. He wasn't afraid of the boards above our heads. I kept looking up to be sure they weren't falling. The Kid looked up at the boards over our heads but didn't seem afraid they would fall.
He didn't say anything about my fears. Instead, he draped his arm over my shoulder and walked me to the counter. "Come on, partner. I can't decide if we should use dark wood or a lighter finish. What do you think Chrissy would like?"
I still didn't have my chalkboard and I was thinking of ways to tell him what I thought. Or did he not care and just said that to get me moving again. Why would he want my opinion? He owned the house, not me. Were the woods the same quality? The same price? Then, we were at the counter and the samples were laid out next to each other. And there was a piece of paper and a pencil next to them, waiting for me.
"What do you think, Heyes?"
I have trouble controlling not only my expressions but my emotions. The Kid had set this up for me. I looked down at the paper to hide the tears in the back of my eyes. When I looked back up at him, my eyes were dry.
"Quality?" I wrote.
"Good thought. Could you help us here?" The Kid called the clerk over. "Thanks for layin' these out for us. We have some questions."
The clerk was a man about our age, but with a settled look about him. "Ask away."
"Are all these woods the same quality?"
"They are." I could hear the last traces of an Irish lilt to his speech. "I do have some other finishes if these aren't what you're looking for. You said you're adding a second story, right?"
"Yes, we are." The Kid leaned closer to one of the woods with a maple finish. I think Chrissy would like that one, too. I prefer dark woods, but this is not my house. I am a guest there. I showed the Kid the paper, again. I had added, "Same price?" to the paper.
"Are all of these the same price?" the Kid asked. I watched him. His eyes were constantly drawn to the same wood.
"They're close in price."
I pointed to the one the Kid kept going back to and pointed to it. Then I wrote, "I like this one."
He smiled. I like when he smiles like that, like he was ten and had just caught a big fish. "Me too, partner." He waved the clerk over. "We'll take this one. Can we get the order done? I'll pay half now and half on delivery, just outside Three Birds, Nebraska. That work for you?"
At the mention of Three Birds, the clerk stared at the Kid. I stepped back when I saw the look of recognition in his eyes. "I know you and your reputation," he started.
"You do?" The Kid was smiling at him. Maybe he's used to being recognized, but I'm not. I don't like it. It scares me.
"Yes, sir, you're that new blacksmith outside of Three Birds. Heard a lot about you, how talented you are, how strong you are. Who else could you be?" You fixed a wagon wheel for my family a couple of months back when they were traveling without me. All I heard about from my wife was this tall, strong man with light brown curls and blue eyes who helped them near Three Birds. Thank you."
This man knew the Kid's reputation as the blacksmith, not as a gunfighter. I could tell the Kid was pleased. "Yes, name's Jed Curry." He held out his hand to the clerk. I backed up. I didn't want to talk to this man. I didn't want him to recognize me. I started down the side aisle but stopped short of the door. I'm afraid to go out in the street by myself, even though I can see the hotel across the street.
I watched as the Kid started to leave down the main aisle. He stopped and stepped out the door. He looked up and down the street and stepped back in the store. He looked around until he saw me standing off to the side, trying to blend into the wall.
"Heyes, there you are. Sorry I took so long, but the order's done. Most of it should be there in a week."
He spoke like it was the most ordinary thing to find me trying to be invisible. I walked out the door next to him but fell behind him when we stepped down into the street.
We're in the same room as last time. I try to stay on the same stair as the Kid, but it was hard. I need to walk behind him. Something is wrong, though. Our door is open, and the light is on inside. I stopped three steps from the top. I reached out to touch the Kid and warn him, but he was too far ahead. How could he not see that something is wrong? I hear voices coming from the room. Someone is waiting in there to hurt us. He doesn't know I'm not behind him, but I'm staying here and watching. But then I feel guilty. I've always watched the Kid's back. He needs me to watch his back. He's too trusting.
"Hi, Kid. We wondered where you were." I heard Lom's voice. I cautiously climbed the rest of the stairs and looked down the hallway. Why is he saying we?
"Good to see you. I've been wantin' to talk to you. Heyes, look who's…" He saw me standing at the top of the stairs at the far end of the corridor. But he acted as if nothing was wrong.
He hurried toward me and put his arm around me, forcing me to move forward with him. "Dr. Arden's here, partner!"
He seemed pleased. Dr. Arden reminded me of the prison. But when I thought about him, I remembered he had gone to the ranch to see the Kid with his own eyes for me and he had saved Lom's life. They both looked comfortable around the doctor. Maybe he wasn't a threat or maybe he was and hid it well. I'm not sure.
Dr. Arden stood up when we entered. He'd never done that in his office. "Heyes, Jed, how are you?" His voice was friendly. His hand extended to shake.
"We're doin' well. The parole meetin' was good." The Kid was smiling at this man as he took an apple from the table.
I didn't know what to say and my chalkboard wasn't near, so I said, "Yes."
Dr. Arden smiled. "Good to hear your voice, Heyes." His voice sounded happy for me, so I answered, "Tha…thanks."
"Excellent! You're making good progress." Then he turned to the Kid. "I think there were some things you wanted to talk to me about, Kid. Can we talk while we walk to the livery? I need to get back to that horrid place."
I looked at him. I never thought he might not like working at the prison. He looked at me. I looked down. He sighed. "Heyes, keep up the good work. I liked hearing a good report today." He patted me on the shoulder. He never touched me before. I saw his face look serious.
"Wha…wha…" I couldn't get the word out, but the doctor smiled.
"Good try, Heyes. I want you to know that Jed and I are not going to talk about you."
How did he know I was thinking that? I must have had a puzzled look on my face because he continued, "I saw your concerned look. You're a free man. If Jed wants to talk with me about you, you will be present. Do you understand?"
I said, "Yes," but I didn't really understand. I'm not a free man. I'm on parole trying to be a free man. With my few words I couldn't have explained that to Dr. Arden, so I didn't try.
JED 'KID' CURRY
I'm glad Dr. Arden told Heyes we weren't goin' to be talkin' about him. Wish I had thought to tell him, but I'm anxious to talk about Chrissy. I told him about the breedin' calendar and the letters and my kiss on her hair. He let me talk about her improved speech and that she looked me in the eyes most of the time. She was still fearful of men she didn't know. I asked about how I should handle the workers that will be workin' on the house. She'd be at the blacksmith shop with me durin' the mornings and early afternoons she could help with the horses. But I knew she was scared of them.
"Just do what you do best, Jed," Dr Arden had said.
I hadn't answered him, and he nodded. "You take care of people; you make them feel safe."
"Just do what has to be done."
"You do so much more than that. The home and family atmosphere you have created at your ranch has helped both Chrissy and Heyes recover much quicker than expected. I never thought Heyes would speak a word again."
We both realized we were talkin' about him and shook our heads.
"Doctor, what I wanted to talk about is…er…I love Chrissy. I want to sweep her up in my arms and kiss her passionately and I…I want to marry her. Will that ever be possible?"
He was quiet for a moment. "Chrissy understands everything you say to her and, from what you tell me about the breeding calendar, she is capable of doing a complex task. I'm sure she understands what marriage is. If she says yes, she'll mean it."
We were in the livery and my friend was getting Dr. Arden's horse. "Doctor, after all she's been through, I don't want to…to scare her or…or hurt her physically." I hoped he understood what I was trying to say.
He looked thoughtful. "I have only examined a handful of women prisoners when they were about to be released. Abuse is never pretty. I contacted the Colorado warden with the reason that having her file could help me treat Heyes. But I did it for just these questions you're asking. She wouldn't let me examine her. The prison was not a clean environment. The abuse was brutal. Her injuries were significant, most of the internal. She could still have sores or cuts that won't heal. She may not be able to carry out certain wifely duties, including having children."
I was thinkin' about what he said, not what I said, and I blurted out, "We already have children."
Now the surprise was on his face. "Well, I really see no reason why you can't get married if she agrees. Not yet. Don't push it. Be patient."
"Those are all the same things you tell me to do with Heyes, Doctor."
"I do? Maybe Yeah,, I guess I do. And Jed, call me Aiden."
HEYES
I happily boarded the train to Bridgeport the next afternoon without having left the room again. The meeting had gone better than I had expected. I even went to the lumber store. Maybe with the Kid's help, I can do this. I tried to thank him for everything, but he said, "Nothing you wouldn't do for me." I don't think I could do this for him. I don't have his strength, but he shares his strength with me.