Winter's Refuge
Chapter One Hundred Eleven
HEYES
The first step in our plan was to talk to Sam. I expected resistance, but he was thrilled at the opportunity to meet Kid Curry. And be away from this place where everyone knew what his pa had done to his ma. He's very protective of her. We let him stay home from school to get ready to leave. I bought a big wagon and two horses to pull it. For now, I'd tie Fall's Bells to the back.
Sending a telegram to Chrissy, I simply said, 'Leaving Walhalla tomorrow. STOP Be in Pembina for a day or two after that STOP Coming home with surprise. HH'
I had traveled light and was saddened by the few things that Angie and Sam packed. All the furniture and everything in their house belonged to Angie's sister, Isabel. She and her husband were not pleased when we told her what we're going to do. In fact, they were downright overbearing and nasty. I understood more why Angie and Sam agreed so easily to leave.
"Angie, I forbid you to go running off with another outlaw…he's an ex-convict!" Isabel yelled. Poking older her sister in the shoulder, she forced her to take a step backwards. "This is just like what happened with James, but this time you are dragging the boy into it!"
"And I suppose you're here to ask us to give you money for your trip," the husband accused her.. He didn't seem concerned they were leaving, only that they'd want money.
I spoke before Angie could answer. "Ex-outlaw, ma'am. Me and my partner got amnesty from the governor. We own a horse ranch down in Nebraska now called Phoenix. Here's the address, if you want to write." I spoke as calmly as I could manage. Her anger surprised me. "Don't need your money. I can support both Angie and Sam. They'll have a good life." I took Angie's hand, glad that we hadn't brought her son to hear this conversation.
"If you don't want money from us for the trip, just go. Can rent that house of yours for good money." Angie's brother-in-law showed no sadness that they were leaving. "Isabell, what's for lunch?" He headed for the kitchen.
As her sister read the address, Angie continued, "Just came to invite you two to the wedding tomorrow morning at nine in the church." Isabell looked surprised and still angry, but was listening as Angie said, "And thank you for the kindness you showed taking us in all these years."
I nodded to Isabell and squeezed Angie's hand that it was time to go. "Hope to see you both there tomorrow morning," I said, as we walked out the door.
Angie let out a huge sigh of relief before she started laughing. "Oh Heyes, I loved the look on their faces when you told them we didn't want their money. James was always asking them for money."
ASJ*****ASJ
Our wedding was simple. Angie looked beautiful. I had bought me and Sam new suits at the mercantile. He complained that suits were itchy but wore it proudly. The sheriff came and gave Sam a warning to stay on the straight and narrow. If he had listened, would have made our stay in Pembina easier and his life might have taken a different path. The diner closed for an hour so Angie's boss and coworkers could attend. And sitting in the back pew of the church was Isabel.
My bride-to-be has a forgiving heart and asked her sister to stand beside her for the ceremony. Sam stood with me. I wished the Kid was here more than anything. I still don't remember their first wedding and I remember part of their wedding by a priest in Three Birds. The holes in my memory are not closing.
We had planned to leave right after the wedding, but Angie's friends had a breakfast reception for us at the diner. That was nice of them and Angie was pleased.
Still, we were on our way to Pembina, clothes changed, and wagon packed before noon. And I was a married man with a stepson just like that.
LOM
Emptying more than a bottle of whiskey the night Susan died, I finally fell into a troubled sleep in my chair. My sense of loss engulfed me. I woke up when Dr. Arden sat across from me.
"Lom, open your eyes and drink this," he said.
I could only manage to open one eye, but that was enough to push away the smelly concoction he had in front of me.
"LOM! Doctor's orders, drink it. It won't cure it but it will ease your hangover."
I didn't want it. I don't want to be sober in a world without Susan. I'm to blame for her death; I didn't do enough to force her into bed rest.
"Lom, drink it or I will force you to!"
Looking at Dr. Arden, I saw he was serious and concerned. I took a taste and then chugged the vile tasting liquid. My head felt no better and my grief was overpowering.
"You want to hear about your son?" he asked.
I nodded and the motion made me sick to my stomach. I found that someone had put a bucket next to me.
Dr. Arden planted himself right in my vision. "Denise has found a wet nurse, but I expect you to be there and take care of him for most of every day."
I remembered cradling the tiny child last night and his trusting eyes finding mine. My heart swelled with parental love.
"What's his name?" the doctor asked.
"His name? Susan picked out a boy's and girl's name months ago." I searched in my foggy memory but couldn't remember.
"And what did she choose?"
"I don't remember."
"Lom Junior?" he asked.
"No, we discussed that but I would never saddle anyone with the name Lombard Briarstone Trevors, Jr. It was just too much."
"So, what did you decide? We can't keep calling him Baby."
"Well, that will have to do for now." I stood up sharply and the pounding in my head became louder. There was no more whiskey in the cupboard so I left out the front door without another word or a look back.
Between the hangover and the heartache, I didn't want to see anyone but everyone headed for me.
"Sheriff, I'm so sorry."
"If you need anything let me know."
I put my head down and walked straight ahead through the crowd.
"Miss Porter… er, Mrs. Trevors was a special lady."
"You have my sympathies."
"At least you have your son."
"I'm sorry."
I pushed them away, but my head was spinning and I awkwardly fell to my knees. "Leave me alone. Please God, will you all leave me alone."
I felt a gentle touch on my shoulder. "Sheriff Trevors, it's Denise Arden. Stand and come with me. I'll take you to your son."
I was crying. "I can't remember what Susan wanted to name him," I lamented.
When I stood, she put her hand around my shoulder, guiding me forward. I couldn't see through my tears. "Was it Wyatt Porter Trevors? She said something like that when she was in labor…but that doesn't sound quite right."
"Maybe that's it." I found myself crying harder with relief at knowing the boy's name. Porter is after her family. Remembering our conversation about his name, brought Susan's smile to mind followed by her dead features last night. "I need a drink,' I said.
"No, Sheriff. You need to hold your son."
I recognized Mrs. Christian as the wet nurse. Her daughter was born last week. Looking at Miss Denise, she told me, "She can handle both babies. She has older twins. And it's only for a month or so. Aiden has a formula for babies that he and Oliver developed with their pa that has had great success."
I just stared until Denise nudged me and whispered, "Say thank you."
"Yes, yes, of course. Thank you, Mrs. Christian."
While Miss Denise was talking to the lady, I opened her kitchen cupboards and searched for whiskey. Finding none, I left out the back door and went to the saloon. The pain is unbearable. The emptiness in the world is unendurable without whiskey. I sat at the dark table under the stairs and ignored everything except the glass in front of me and the bottle that refilled it until I felt nothing.
A baby's cry woke me. The saloon table was replaced by my living room couch. And the crying continued. My head felt like it would explode so I closed my eyes.
"Wyatt needs you." Arden's voice was stern and he had my foggy attention.
"Wyatt?" The name should mean something to me. I reached out to the table but my hand didn't find a whiskey bottle.
"YOUR SON WYATT!" I could tell Arden was angry. "Sheriff, pay attention!"
Closing my eyes, I fought through the muddle of my thoughts. I looked around, trying not to move my head. "Yes, Susan's and my son." But Susan wasn't here. She left him to me. "Not Wyatt, Wayne. That's what she wants to name him, Wayne. Where is he?"
Arden grabbed my shoulders. "That's him crying in the next room. Get up and take care of him."
I started crying myself. "I don't know how. Susan was supposed to be here, supposed to take care of him." Grief filled me. I wanted a drink.
Arden shaking me brought me back to the crying baby. "We'll show you. You'll learn."
JED 'KID' CURRY
Breathing is so hard. There are voices I know around me. Don't know how long I've been sick. Someone is lifting my head and holding a glass of water to my mouth.
"Jed, please drink." It was Chrissy's voice but if I'm sick, she shouldn't be near me.
"No, no, go away." I shook my head and tried to push her away to keep her well.
"Jed, DRINK water now." Chrissy's voice was firm and someone else was holding my head while she held the glass. It had the bitter taste of medicine.
"Chrissy back away…don't catch." I kept turning my head away.
I felt her cool hand on my forehead. "Chrissy darling no catch. Jed no grippe. Jed pneumonia."
I drank the water but then gasped for breath and started coughing. The cough came from deep inside and stole whatever thought and energy I had. When it stopped, I slept.
HEYES
Most of my thoughts went to the beautiful woman next to me who had agreed to marry me…and worry about our wedding night. I've told her some of what happened, but she's not seen my body. And I don't want her to.
I sent a telegram to the Pembina sheriff soon after I left to say I'd be back for the reward money. I know what I'm going to do with some of it. I knew that the sheriff would be expecting me. What I didn't know is that I would be welcomed as a hero. The town had a different feel now and I knew why. Then, the townsfolk were on edge watching for the Curt West gang. I ended that threat.
Everyone greeted me. Our hotel room was on the house as were our meals. Sam enjoyed all the attention. While Angie rested, he went with me to the sheriff's office to see about my reward. After a warm welcome, the sheriff handed me a bankbook and we sat down to talk. Sam wandered off to check out the town and I didn't think anything about it until a well-dressed man dragged him into the sheriff's office by the collar of his shirt. And I knew my stepson was up to his old tricks.
"Little scumbag tried to steal my wallet," the man announced.
Closing my eyes to control my anger, I took a moment before I stood and faced Sam. I didn't say a word; Sam made all the excuses.
"Sir, I didn't mean to, but I saw him put money into a fat wallet and I thought with some of that money I could get ma and you a nice wedding present...and he's right, I did try to lift his wallet." I'd never heard Sam so contrite, honestly sorry.
And I think the man, Mr. Trinidad Hegermeyer, heard that sincerity.
"This boy related to you, Mr. Heyes?" he asked.
"My stepson," I answered, without taking my glare from Sam. It's not as fierce as it used to be but it was plenty to scare the young teenager.
"I'm sorry, sir," he said to me. And then said the same thing to Mr. Hegermeyer. "I promise I'll never do anything like that again."
I put my hands on my hips. "Sheriff, would you put Sam into a cell while we talk?"
"Come with me, boy. What's your full name for the booking papers?"
"James Samuel Doubleday, Jr, sir. Please don't lock me up. I'm going to Nebraska with him and ma to live. I'm sorry."
With a slight nod from me, the sheriff pushed him ahead and locked him in the farthest cell, then closed the heavy wooden door to the cell block. When he came back, I knew he needed an explanation.
"Yes, he's James Doubleday's boy by the wife that wasn't really his wife because he was already married. He's had a hard time it growing up."
Hegermeyer was smiling. "Have a boy of my own around that age. If you're agreeable, I think a few nights in jail and the days clerking in my law office might help the boy. I'm prosecuting a trial today and another one tomorrow. I don't have much hope in winning either, just negotiating lesser sentences. Think seeing how the law works might scare him enough to stop what he's doing. I've heard you and your partner were accomplished con artists when you were young, Mr. Heyes. No one caught you like I just caught him."
ASJ*****ASJ
It was hard explaining to a distressed Angie that Sam was going to spend his nights locked up and his days working for a lawyer while we were here. It did have one unintended benefit…we had privacy on our wedding night. I hadn't laid with a woman since before we went to prison and was worried my injuries might stop me from loving her. I blew out the lamps in our room so it was dark and my scars wouldn't scare her. It was awkward at first. She had only one lover in her life, James Doubleday, and he was neither gentle nor considerate. For him it was unemotional free sex and that was all. She was expected to lay back on the bed and spread her legs, turning her head away. But I intended to make love to her. I closed her legs and held her in my arms and kissed her, starting with her lips and moving to her shoulders.
It was slow and intimate. I guided her hands away from the scarring on my back and my shoulder. She had never experienced love making like this before so she followed my lead. After, she fell asleep in my arms, but I got up gently and put my long underwear back on. Someday, I'll admit to her that each of those scars was earned. But not now. Now is for delicate touches and deep kisses and I was pleased that every part of my body still functioned.
LOM
Phyllis Bickson, the widowed older sister of my temporary deputies, Nat and Junior, came to live in the spare bedroom and take care of Wayne. He took the formula that Dr. Arden had developed with enthusiasm. She was capable and Dr. Arden felt confident that my son was in loving hands. And that I had stopped drinking. He and Miss Denise left soon after… and I bought three bottles of whiskey from the saloon, took them home, and started drinking. Drinking until I forget where I am. Drinking until the grief of losing my beautiful Susan was forced into a dark unfeeling corner of my mind.
I stayed as drunk as I could and still walk to my sheriff's office and the saloon. Everyone here in Porterville feels sorry for me and tries to help me. Junior does all the sheriffing and his brother Nat helps him. Phyllis takes good care of Wayne with the help of almost every lady in town. And there's always food appearing on my front porch. Even the bartender makes sure that the dark table under the stairs is always empty for me. And I plan to just keep drinking away my pain,
JED 'KID' CURRY
"Papa, are you ever going to get up and play with us?" Martha's voice was close…next to my bed?
I opened my eyes and was relieved that the room was darkened. Even the faint light from a distant lamp made it hard to keep my eyes open.
"Martha, leave your pa alone." Auntie's voice came from the hall. "He needs his rest. You can visit later when I bring him some soup."
I'm hungry, very hungry. "Soup now?" I asked, not recognizing the dry gravel sound of my voice…and my throat hurt.
The swishing of Auntie's dress preceded her entrance. I squinted at her. Was she using a cane? "Jed, did you say you would eat some soup?"
"Soup, hungry."
"Well, thank the Lord. We been trying to get food into you for over a week! I'll be right back with soup! Martha, tell your ma that your pa wants soup!"
HEYES
First thing in the morning, we made love again, slow and soft and sweet. Then Angie was up and moving around, determined to see Sam had breakfast in jail before he went to help 'this lawyer', as she called him. She needn't have worried. Sam was in Hegermeyer's office already, making notes from a thick book. The crumbs from his breakfast were on a plate beside him. And he was so totally involved in the law case he was researching that he didn't notice us. Angie motioned me out the door quietly.
"That's a surprise," she told me when we were out in the street. "Books always bored him, except those dime novels about Kid Curry. I think he has them all memorized. I hope he's not disappointed when he meets him."
"Well, I'm not sure how he's doing after the grippe and pneumonia, but I can tell you that Jedediah Curry is one of the best men you'll ever meet. Everyone who knows him will tell you that…except the Kid himself. He's always working to get better, stronger. And not just physically, although he's also one of the strongest men you'll ever meet. Remind me to tell you what he did during the mercantile fire in Three Birds. Two good men owe him their lives. But he's strong mentally and morally…I think that part was always somewhere in him and prison brought it out. Me and Chrissy wouldn't have recovered after prison if it weren't for him. I haven't read the dime novels, although I know the author. I think the Kid will more than measure up."
"You make him sound like a saint."
"No, he's a reformed thief, an ex-outlaw and an ex-convict with a quick temper he struggles to keep under control."
She just smiled and took my arm as we walked toward the newspaper office. All of the Morrisons were there, even the little one.
"Heyes, heard you were in town."
"About time you got here to visit."
"Is this lovely lady your wife?"
They all asked at once. Smiling, I said, "My bride, Angie. Honey, meet the Morrisons."
JED 'KID' CURRY
"I'm sorry, Jed. I tried to talk him out of it, but the foreman from the 473 took one look at the accommodations for his two mares and left with them…swearing." Juan came into my sickroom and paced. "Wants the money he paid in advance returned."
I tried to listen to his words but my thoughts were murky. I knew it was important from his tone. Chrissy had been readin' Black Beauty to me but she stopped. Auntie told me she'd been upset and withdrawin' since I had pneumonia. Said Dr. Oliver told my wife that they might lose me. Chrissy had sat by me since then, starin' at me, but not seein' always readin' Black Beauty. She kept Ruth Ann close by and took care of her, but was inside her mind a lot of the time. I'd asked for Heyes when I first started to wake up. That upset Chrissy even more. At first, I thought somethin' had happened to him until I remembered he was on his trip. But Chrissy had listened to Juan's words now.
"No good. No good. Chrissy darling no have money to return to him. Jed and Heyes know where money is," she said and I knew something was wrong.
I tried to think in a straight line. Everything behind my eyes ached. I closed my eyes and fought through it. My wife was calling herself by her name. That was it. I need to help her.
"Juan?"
"Sorry, Jed. You or Heyes handle the money. I don't know where anything but the petty cash is."
I held my hand up for quiet. "Bank book." I hesitated to catch my breath and picked up Chrissy's hand. "Darlin', your name is on the account. Juan will take you into Three Birds and you can withdraw what you need."
Yankin' her hand from me, she ran to the corner. "No! Chrissy darling no go without Jed or Heyes. No. No. No!"
Struggling to stand, I felt myself sway but used the bed table to steady myself. "Alright you don't have to go, darlin'. We have money here. I just need someone to help me to the blacksmith shop." Chrissy was starin' at the wall, what the twins call 'thinkin'. I know she's tryin' to escape inside her thoughts. I took her hand and pulled her into a hug. She was stiff at first until I whispered into her ear. "You're okay, darlin'. I'll never let anyone hurt you."
I turned to Juan. "How much do you need?"
I was embarrassed that I needed to ride in the wagon the short distance to my blacksmith shop. Leanin' on Juan, he unlocked the new back door. It seemed so long since I'd been here.
"I've been bringing all the work people leave outside in here," Juan told me, explaining all the things piled everywhere.
Feelin' overwhelmed, I vowed to recover faster and return to work.
"I saw a few more things out in front; I'll go bring them in. You alright? Need help?" Juan asked.
"No, I got this." I still hadn't even told Heyes about the new hidin' spot inside the forge. Runnin' my hand along the wall to support myself because I felt so weak, I went into the forge and knelt down. The blocks and bricks that had been so easy to move before now seemed so heavy that it took me two hands to pull them out. I sat down on the floor and counted out first, the money we needed for the refund and then a few hundred dollars for anything else that came up.
I was so tired; I closed my eyes for a moment…and felt sleep invitin' me. I shook it off and slowly put the heavy block and bricks back into the forge. With the money in one hand, I started to stand up and ended right back on my bottom. Where had my strength gone? The room started to spin and I coughed from all the black dust now stirred up. And the coughin' wouldn't stop. I got up on one knee and started to use the forge to help me stand. But I couldn't pull myself up and I my coughin' got deeper.
"Jed, let me help you," Juan said.
I reached out for him and was ashamed at how much I needed to lean on him. We walked slowly to the wagon and I crawled into the back. All I could think about was regainin' my strength, takin' care of Chrissy and all the work that waited for me in the back room of the shop. But sleep overpowered all those thoughts. When I woke up, it was early mornin' and Chrissy was curled next to me in bed. I reached out and wrapped my arm around her. Before goin' back to sleep, I whispered, "Everythin's goin' be just fine, darlin'. I've got you."
HEYES
Angie charmed the Morrisons. And this, being the newspaper office of a small town, they already knew about Sam's exploits. As soon as I could, I asked Winston Morrison, Sr. to take a walk with me. He insisted on being called Winny.
When we were away from the house, I got right to the reason for my visit.
"Winny, I have a proposition for you."
"Go on."
"We have a friend, a US Marshal, who was injured and forced to retire. He's been looking for a new profession."
He looked at me quizzically.
"Well, if you're willing to come with me to our ranch in Nebraska and train him, I would like to buy all of your shoe and boot making equipment, pay all of your expenses and for your expertise. What do you think?"
I worried when he was silent for a few minutes. Maybe this was something he wasn't interested in doing. Until he stopped in the middle of the road and clapped me hard on the back, sending pain through my whole body. I looked away so he couldn't see it on my face.
"Heyes, you just solved all my problems! Thank you! Yes, I'm tired and I've been yearning to retire. My dream was to have my son take over. But you know he has no interest in my business. I know I have a home here to live with them, but I inherited the business from my uncle and it's grown and prospered. I've been despondent about the path of my life lately, having no one to take over for me. And you just handed me everything I need."
Before we got back to the newspaper office, a boy with a telegram stopped me.
"H. Heyes
Pembina, ND
Everyone recovering. STOP You're needed at Phoenix.
Juan Ortiz