Winter's Refuge

Chapter Sixty-Seven

JED 'KID' CURRY

Waitin' is the hard part. Mike asked if I wanted to stay in the back of the shop or his house.

"Since my wife died, I set this place up as a little apartment. No reason to go home."

"I'm sorry, didn't know you were married," I told him. I thought of Aiden, who'd lost his beloved wife and still feels guilty he couldn't save her. So, I didn't ask how Mike's wife passed.

"She died in childbirth. Baby girl died, too. Left me alone," Mike told me in a lowered voice.

"I'm sorry," I repeated, but his words set off a whole new train of worries. What if I lost Chrissy that way? I can't live without her. She was so pale and exhausted when I left her. Soteria is safe but it's no place to have a child. Aunt Diane Francis is there. She's had three children. She could help Chrissy. I need the men out to kill me and my family caught, and soon. I need to get Chrissy home to have the baby, our baby. Or maybe I should take her to Cheyenne to Aiden.

Mike was lookin' at me for an answer. "Think I'll just stay here. Anything I can do to help you?"

"Hoping you would ask. What do you know about fixing a printing press? Using my old reliable one because the newer one is broken."

I smiled; fixin' anything interested me. "Where is it?"

"In the side room. We can close the curtains, so you won't be seen. Somethin's wrong with the plate and the rollers. Maybe they're too tight but haven't had time to take it apart and see," Mike said. "The plate on there is broken again."

I didn't say it, but I was happy that I had somethin' to do while waitin' to see if the first telegram worked.

LOM

Waiting is the hard part. Juan and Rudy must be at Jed's ranch by now. The telegraph lines should be fixed; they are efficient at repairing them. Porterville has been quiet and the Bickson boys easily handled everything. My Susan went to visit Deputy Harker today, like every day. He's not going to return to duty; he'll never fully recover. The town of Porterville voted him a livable pension and Susan brings him lunch from the cafe each day.

I had Juan send a telegram to Dr Aiden before he left. Susan brought me the alarming answer.

Lom Trevors

Porterville, WY

Testimony brought danger. STOP Hidden Rocks Gang? STOP Friend and family safe for now.

Aiden

I need to do something to help so I do the only thing I can think of. I take the huge stack of out-of-state wanted posters out of my bottom drawer. Usually, I only have time to look closely at the ones from Wyoming and our neighboring states.

The Hidden Rocks Gang is in Iowa. I heard about the corruption in Iowa; every sheriff hears rumors. The Carlsons are from Iowa, too. The Hidden Rocks Gang runs rampant there. They do whatever they want and aren't arrested. Be easy to do if they had a judge like Carlson on their side. I'm gonna check to see if I have any wanted posters from there. It's a long shot I'll find any from Iowa, but it gives me something to do.

HEYES

Waiting is the hard part. There's a lot of work to keep me busy. I'm making Chrissy rest. Auntie said that's what she needs, or she might go into labor. LABOR. She can't have a baby up here. But Auntie says if she takes it easy, the baby won't come yet.

Auntie and Lyons take turns watching the path in daylight hours. I try to watch the twins. I've been teaching them the names of the trees that I know. This area doesn't seems to have larger wildlife, but I've seen rabbits, skunks and something that looks like a prairie chicken. The kids have boundless energy…and I'm glad they nap every afternoon.

I'm worried about the Kid and it's still days before Lyons will leave Soteria and see if there is a telegram waiting for us. My plan makes my partner the bait, but it was all I could come up with.

We've made the lean-to bigger into a small shed. Lyons came from a pioneer family and is teaching me how to make a building without nails and wood…just logs, mud and grass.

I have to stay alert. When I was fishing this morning, it was so calm and beautiful that I started to slip into the safe place in my mind. It's always bright there and I'm secure from harm. I'm never in a dark cell or whipped or hungry. And I don't have anyone to take care of. My pole jerked as a fish took my bait. I tried to ignore it and stay hidden inside, but I can't really find solace there anymore. Reality demands my attention. My family demands my attention. I like having people to take care of.

I keep busy so I don't think too much. I took Martha for a walk in the forest to show her where the horses like to graze. She's much more adventurous than her brother. She also talks constantly about whatever is on her mind.

"Uncle Heyes, is ma sick?"

"No, she's gonna have a baby."

I could see her mind going, trying to make sense of what she saw and what I told her. "When?"

"Ask your ma."

"Why does she have a baby in her stomach? Was it something she ate?"

"Ask your ma." I was very uncomfortable. Almost wanted to hide in my mind again. But instead, I changed the subject. "Would you like to check my rabbit trap with me.'

"Why are you trapping the bunnies?'

"For dinner." She looked at me in horror. I was proud of the traps I had made from branches I trimmed with my knife and notched together. I set the door to close when the rabbit hopped inside. I used seeds for bait.

Tears filled her eyes. "I'm not eating a bunny!"

I wanted to tell her that you'll eat anything if you're hungry enough. Being on the run taught us that. Prison taught us that. But I didn't say that. I just picked her up and dried her tears with my bandana. "Let's go back to camp."

JED 'KID' CURRY

Findin' the problem with Mike's 'new' printin' press was a good exercise to keep me busy while we waited for the telegram that would come to Mike from a US Marshal in Cheyenne.

Mike stayed in the front of the newspaper office and handled the normal day-to-day business while settin' type for the older, more reliable press. When I'd hear someone enter, I'd draw my Colt and listen to the conversation. I was gettin' paranoid like Heyes.

"Mr. Loveland, I'd like to take an ad out in your paper," a deep voice said.

"Certainly, Mr. Outman, the same as last month?" Mike asked.

Mike knew this man, so I holstered my gun and went back to work on the printin' press. I found what he was talkin' about, how the plate cracked easily. Now I needed to find out why it keeps happenin'.

"Mr. Outman, your ad will appear in next Monday's paper and run for a month," Mike said.

"Mr. Loveland, that's a beautiful horse in back in your paddock. One of the nicest I've ever seen. Would you consider selling him?" Outman asked.

We'd forgotten that Winter's Glory might give away my location but Mike handled it smoothly as if he had a silver tongue.

"He is a beauty, isn't he? Best horse I ever rode. I'm borrowing him for a while from a horse ranch down near Three Birds. They breed top horseflesh there."

"If he's an example, they certainly do. I'll have to check it out next time we need another animal."

And then the door closed, and he was gone. Mike came back to me. "Forgot your horse was back there. I'm gonna feed and take care of him right now."

Mike hadn't returned when the front door opened again.

"Mr. Loveland?" a young voice said. "Mr. Loveland, it's Jimmy. Got a telegram for you," he called louder.

I didn't know what to do. I wanted that telegram but I couldn't show myself. I put my bandana over my mouth and yelled, "Just leave it on the counter. I'll tip you later."

"Will do, sir."

Mike had heard me yellin' and entered through the back door cautiously. When all he heard was the front door closin', he called, "Jed, you alright?"

"Yeah, the telegram came. I had a boy named Jimmy leave it on the counter. You owe him a tip. Would you bring it back here?"

The telegram was cautious news:

Mike Loveland

Bridgeport, NE

Bookends have been tentatively identified. STOP More tomorrow.

CA

Mike listened while I read it to him. "That CA… Was that the Colin man that was here?" he asked.

But I didn't respond; I was lost in thought. "Tentatively identified. What do you think that means?"

"Not sure," Mike said. "But it does sound promising." Again, he asked, "CA is a friend?"

"Yes, for the most part. We come from different worlds, but we try to understand each other."

"You hungry?" Mike changed the subject.

"Always," I answered. I was hungry but I was more worried.

"Good, I brought home enough food from the diner to feed an army." He must have seen my alarm that the abundance of food might give away that he was hiding someone, but he continued. "Don't worry, I eat a lot and I often order food for two or three days. They're used to large orders from me."

I know I wasn't good company at dinner. I was thinkin' about the repeat of today, tomorrow. Instead of New End to Big Fish, the telegram would read Big Fish to Canningville. But the scenario would be the same. And again, I would be waitin'. But now I had a slim hope that the men followin' me were almost identified. And I took comfort that they were trackin' me and not my family.

LOM

Rudy sent me a telegram. The lines were up by the time they got to Three Birds. It simply said, "You were right to worry. STOP Things under control here. STOP Curry family gone. STOP We're taking care of Phoenix." It was signed, "Ortiz."

It took me over six hours, but I found wanted posters on five Hidden Rock Gang members. They each had a follow-up poster two weeks later voiding them…signed by Judge Phillip Carlson. I telegrammed the five names and descriptions to Colin.

The next day he answered me. "Exactly what was needed."

HEYES

I held 'school' today for the twins. With sticks they practiced writing their name, 'Curry', in the dirt. They both like challenges and are eager to learn. Chrissy sat in the shelter reading a book and watching us. She's not as pale. Auntie says Chrissy needs light exercise, so I take her arm and we go 'exploring' around Soteria. The twins usually run ahead, needing an outlet for their energy.

Chrissy identified a small grove of what we think are apple trees in a secluded corner. Of course, there is no fruit on them this time of year. We can't walk all the way around the lake. It backs up right to the mountain wall. It is fed from above by our very own waterfall.

I have to watch Michael and Martha closely. Auntie told us this morning they have never learned to swim. There was no need at Lily's house where they were hidden. Their water came from a well and there wasn't even a stream nearby.

When we were little, a girl in my class, Teresa Powers, drowned in the river. It scared me. The Kid was four but no one in the family had the time to teach him to swim. I taught him to swim when I got home from school that day. Our pants were still dripping when we walked into his ma's kitchen.

"Hannibal, what happened? Did you two fall in the river?" his ma asked, already drying the Kid's hair with a dishtowel.

"I taught Jed to swim," I explained.

"I swim very good!" he said enthusiastically.

"Oh my!" my aunt exclaimed. "We were so careful that all the older kids learned to swim. Forgot Jed needed to learn. Thank you, Han." She grabbed me and kissed the top of my head. "You might have saved his life."

I remembered that. Now I need to teach the Kid's children to swim, well I'll teach them come spring. The water is too cold now.. We have no idea how deep this lake really is. I'll talk to Chrissy, Auntie and Lyons and we'll talk to Martha and Michael tomorrow about the danger water can present. I want them to have a respect for the water and how to survive if they end up in it.

JED 'KID' CURRY

When the newspaper was closed, me and Mike looked at the old printin' press. I described what was breakin' on the new one and we compared it to the old press. Between the two of us, we managed to move it to the center of the room so we could see all sides. If I was home in my shop, I could make a part that would fix his problem in an hour. But I'm not. I promised him my first project when I get home would be the replacement part for him.

And then we sat around his makeshift kitchen table and shared the food he had brought. And we talked about the men tryin' to kill me. The town of Windswept was chosen as our end point. Mike expressed his concern about me bein' the bait, but he couldn't come up with anything else.

I tried but I couldn't sleep. I sat in a chair and read. I didn't want to disturb Mike by pacin'. I fell asleep over the book, but woke when I heard Mike talkin', mumblin' in his sleep. I'm not the only one that has nightmares. I got up and made a lot of noise in the kitchen gettin' a glass of water.

"Jed, that you?" I heard Mike call sleepily from behind the curtain separating the nook where he slept from the kitchen.

"Yeah, sorry I woke you. Just gettin' some water," I answered but I already heard him snorin'.

ASJ*****ASJ

The next day, a telegram was delivered to the shop early. It read, "Bookend STOP John Fisher STOP Hidden Rocks"

They had identified one of the outlaws! I had Mike send a telegram back to Colin. I know Fisher's usual partner. "Bookend two, Henry Reed?"

There was no answer until Mike picked up the afternoon telegram.

Michael Loveland

Bridgeport, Ne

"Bookends Fisher and Reed seen Canningville. STOP Have warrant to arrest if possible thanks to Lom. STOP Book should be in Windswept."

CA

"You heading to Windswept?" Mike asked.

"Yup. If I leave now, I'll get there just after dark."

"Need someone to watch your back?"

I put my hand on Mike's shoulder. "Thanks for the offer but need to travel alone. There will be marshals there to do that. I do appreciate the offer."

He seemed relieved that I refused, and I remembered he was recoverin' from a leg injury. It was why he hadn't ridden in the posse a few weeks ago.

"I'll miss your company but'll just have to talk to Winter's Glory," I kept talkin' while I was walkin' around pickin' up my things. But the truth is I need to use the time ridin' to calm my thoughts and prepare my mind and my nerves. If the marshals don't arrest Fisher and Reed, I'm gonna be in the most important gunfight of my life.

HEYES

Lyons joined me fishing this morning. I thought he wanted to ask about me, but he asked about Chrissy.

"Miss Chrissy alright? I remember reading about her trial, how she was pregnant and all. Had a real pretty picture of her in the paper." He started talking, looking at the water, not at me.

The question stunned me. We don't talk about that time, even with each other. I wanted to run. Then I wanted to hide in my mind. I didn't do either of those things, but I didn't answer him.

"Sorry, didn't mean to bring up a sensitive subject. My wife cried about her going to prison, being pregnant and all. Prison ain't easy for a woman, especially a pretty one like her."

I knew I had to say something. The Kid and Chrissy are very private people about their pasts. I respected that. "She's healing." I studied the spot where my string entered the water. I was uncomfortable; the water was hypnotizing but I refused the lure of hiding in my mind.

I hoped Lyons would stay quiet or change the subject. But he didn't. "Prison hurt her mind? She talks funny."

"Her mind is fine. And she's smart as a whip. Like I said, she's healing," I said firmly.

"Sorry, didn't mean to intrude," Lyons answered and he sounded contrite to me.

"We're private people."

My line jumping in the water ended that conversation as I pulled part of tonight's dinner from the water.

JED 'KID' CURRY

It was dark when I arrived in Windswept from Bridgeport. I know that there is a marshal here to watch over me, but I haven't seen him and he hasn't made contact. I got a room with a view of the street at the Swept Away Hotel, old but clean enough. There was a telegram waitin' for me when I checked in.

Jed Curry

Windswept

Have first bookend. STOP Other illusive. STOP May be in Windswept.

CA

I tipped the desk clerk and asked, "Saloon got cheap food?"

"Best beef stew in town."

ASJ***ASJ

After settlin' in my room, I checked my gun was fully loaded. I hadn't been able to practice my shootin' for days and there was no place to do it outside here. I practiced my draw in my room for thirty minutes before goin' to the saloon. I felt more comfortable eatin' there with people around than sittin' at a table by myself in the diner. But I stay on alert.

I know of Fisher and Reed but only Fisher on sight. Heyes knows both of them, but he's not here. I'm here alone. There's a marshal here somewhere watchin' my back. Still haven't seen him, although I've been lookin'.

I took my stew and sat at a table half hidden by the stairs. My back was to the wall, and I could see the swingin' doors clearly. John Fisher wasn't here. I was certain of that. But I study each customer for Reed. If the bartender knows the man, I rule him out. Reed should be a stranger like me.

I finished my stew and looked over the crowd one more time. I'd recognize Fisher but if Reed and my protectin' marshal are here, I can't pick them out. I walked to the bar and asked, "You serve breakfast?"

"Eggs and bacon only, starts at seven. You just passing through?"

"Waitin' for someone. You seen other strangers in here today?" I thought he'd know more than anyone.

"You mean someone else that ties his gun down like you?" he asked, but it sounded like an accusation. "Windswept is a peaceable town. No, ain't seen no strangers like that but you." He focused on the door. "Until now."

I turned quickly, my hand waverin' over my gun. I didn't recognize the man. He could be friend or foe.

"Curry, I been lookin' for you," he growled. He unlocked the leather loop on his gun as he took a gunfighter's stance.

"You must be Henry Reed. I ain't lookin' for a fight," I answered but I prepared myself to fight him. I heard tables and chairs scrapin' out of the way.

"Not hired to fight you; hired to kill you. I'm not even carin' if it's a fair fight."

I tried to steady my heart, my breathin', my body. It was harder now than when I was younger and carefree. I don't see a marshal. I'm on my own here. I have a family. I pushed their faces out of my mind and concentrated on my opponent's eyes. I'll know when he's decided to draw.

He didn't look around to see if everyone was out of the way. He didn't wait. He drew. And he was fast, very fast. Without thinkin', I found my gun in my hand and fired first. I aimed at his gun but hit his wrist. . He loosened his grip but did not drop the gun. I held my gun steady, pointed at him. "Drop your gun!" I ordered.

The doors behind him swung open and a man rushed in wavin' a newspaper, not realizin' what he had interrupted. "That judge that was convicted, Carlson… When they were walking him to the prison wagon to extradite him, someone just walked up to him and shot him."

My opponent grabbed his wrist and moved his gun to his other hand. But he didn't aim it at me. "He's dead? Judge Carlson?"

The bartender had grabbed the newspaper and was reading it. He looked up and said,. "Yes, he's dead. Man named Kyle Murtry jumped in front of Carlson, yelled, 'For Wheat'. Judge Carlson got a terrified look on his face just as Murtry shot him point blank. Prison guards shot and killed Murtry right there in the street. Said he smiled as he was dying,"

Kyle's name hit me hard. His smilin' face crossed my thoughts and I lost my focus on Reed. He was backin' to the door, ignorin' me.

"Now that the boss is dead, I got no reason to execute you, Curry." He turned and ran out the door. I ran after him and tackled him to the street.

Pinnin' him to the ground with my body, I looked around and saw what I was lookin' for…a sheriff's star. "Sheriff, arrest this man. Name's Henry Reed."

Cautiously, the sheriff drew his gun as a horse gallopin' hard came down the street. I sighed with relief when I saw US Marshal Karl Josephs dismount. He understood the situation immediately.

He motioned me away. Reaching down, he took Reed's gun. "Stand up."

Reed stood. He was tryin' to stop the blood flowin' from his wrist with his bandana. "A doctor. I need to see the doctor."

"You'll see the doctor. But first, Henry Reed, you're under arrest for murder and robbery in the state of Iowa, assault of a US Marshal in Cheyenne, shooting a child outside Canningville and the attempted murder of Jed Curry." Karl's voice was cold. I knew he was wantin' to hurt the man who had beaten his brother. But his face didn't show it and he restrained himself.

Heyes' plan had worked. I guess so did Kyle's plan. He must have known it would be suicide to shoot Carlson in front of the prison guards.

Relief and sadness flooded through me. Relief for me and my family. And sadness for Kyle.