Winter's Refuge

Chapter Seventy-Five

JED 'KID' CURRY

Mean Gene looked at the coffins. "Okay, bury them by the spring. You two do it. I ain't got the men to spare to help you."

He walked over to the hostage shelter. "They can help you dig. Time to let them out for the day, anyway. They got chores to do." He opened the main gate to the shelter. "You hear me, hostages, get out here." He fired his gun in the air to rouse them. "Sophie, coffee quick!"

But no one came out. He looked in, then ran in. There was no one there. Mad, he stomped over to me. "Curry, this your doin'?" he growled, raisin' his hand to strike me.

I caught his hand and squeezed his fingers. Then, before he knew what was happenin', I grabbed him around the neck and held my gun to his neck. "Sorry, MG, this is the end of your reign as leader. Alex, come over here." Alex/Colin did as I asked. "Get his gun."

Silently, Colin did as told. On the way up I had taught him how to empty the bullets out of guns. He did that now and threw the empty gun into the wagon. The old gang members had moved behind Mean Gene's supporters, guns drawn. Shortie hurriedly removed all the guns.

"Get rope, tie their hands and feet...tight," I told Colin. We had gone over knot makin', too. Even though MG's hands were tied, I kept my gun pointed at his head.

The outlaws were pulled to the center of the yard. Back-to-back, they were tied together in groups of two. Only then did I holster my gun.

"I'll get them hostages all back and then kill them, every one of them. And it will be your fault, Kid Curry." MG screamed at me.

"As a deputized marshal of Wyomin', you are all under arrest," I said, not likin' to say those words, but they were true. "Any volunteers to help dig two graves?" I asked.

Blue Nose and Lobo stepped forward.

"Good to see you, Kid," Lobo said. "It'll be an honor to dig their graves. They were friends."

"Hold it right there," a shaky female voice called from the porch of the leader's cabin. "Hands up, all of you, or Kid Curry is the first one to die." I had forgotten about Rachel Lyn Hawley, Johnny McWinters girlfriend, the mother of his child and MG's current lady…no, not lady, woman. She had gone into the cabin at the first sign of trouble when my focus was on Mean Gene.

She walked down the porch steps getting more confident with each step, the gun leveled at me. Stayin' just far enough away that I couldn't reach her, she commanded, "Untie them. Gene first or Curry is dead."

Options ran through my head. This was my fault. I had counted her out as somebody who couldn't hurt us. I looked her in her eyes and knew the gun was cocked. She is determined. I don't think I can draw and fire before she pulls that trigger.

"NOW!" she yelled, frustrated.

"I'd drop that gun if I were you, Miss Hawley," a voice I recognized said from somewhere behind her. "Or I will shoot you."

"No!" she yelled, firin' twice as she turned to face Heyes as he came around the corner of the leader's cabin. One of her random shots caught me high on the left arm and I heard a cry from behind me. Not lettin' either stop me, I leaped forward and grabbed her arm, pointin' it upward until I could reach her hand. Desperation made her strong. Another shot escaped from the gun before I broke her fingers, forcin' the weapon from her hand.

Blood from the bullet wound runnin' down my arm, I pulled her hands behind her, just as a small boy ran out of the cabin. "Mama! Mama!"

"Not now, baby," she whispered lovingly. The tottler didn't even look two years old. "Oh God, not now."

I forced my eyes away as Harris came over and picked up the baby. "You hungry, Johnny? I got a biscuit from yesterday I'll share with you." He winked at me as he walked to the bunkhouse.

"Heyes," I said shakin' my head.

"Hi."

"Good to see you, partner. The hostages?"

"Safe. You're injured. You need me?"

"Not anymore. Nothin' I can't handle. You came in the nick of time," I told him. "Go do what you gotta do."

He tipped his hat at the former gang members and walked towards the trees near the main entrance road of the Hole. Then he disappeared into the trees, and I knew he worked his way around to the back secret entrance. Even injured, Colin's eyes followed Heyes' exit and then looked at me with questions in his expression. I turned away from him.

Harris had Rachel Lyn tied up tight. I tested the knots. "Good job. Tie her back-to-back with her boyfriend there…and make the knots tight.

"Now any volunteers to help Blue Nose and Lobo dig two graves? Who does the doctorin' here?"

HEYES

I thought the Kid had everything under control when I stepped out from the secret passage. On a gut feeling, I ran low to the back of the leader's cabin and listened.

I heard rather than saw the woman holding the gun on my partner. Hurrying along the side of the cabin, I stepped out and spoke with far more confidence than I felt. And I saw the Kid get shot and felt it in my gut. I should have shot her, but I haven't fired a gun in over six years. Who knows what I might have hit. Hearing several of the old gang volunteering to help dig graves for Wheat and Kyle, I thought the Kid was right to bury them here. This is what they'd want.

I caught up with the hostages, moving in a tight group, further down the path than I thought. Arnie had taken charge. He was leading the pack with the old man leaning on him. The man now used a strong tree limb as a crutch. They were moving in silence.

I moved through them and touched Arnie on the shoulder. "Good job. Let's stop for water."

He smiled at the praise and held up his hand to stop the group. "Thank you, Mr. Heyes. Just doing what you told us to do," he said quietly.

I thanked Lom for giving me the idea to bring three canteens on this trip. I pulled them off of Bells and passed them around. The cool water brought small smiles.

"Mr. Heyes, we heard gunshots," Arnie said with a question in his voice.

"A couple of injuries, but Mean Gene and his gang are under arrest. He can't hurt you, any of you, anymore." I realized everyone was listening to my answer. I heard a collective sigh of relief and felt a dark cloud lift from their shoulders.

When everyone had a chance to drink, I hung the canteens back on my horse and gestured to move forward. I knew we were two thirds down but getting over that fallen tree, even though I'd trimmed it, was going to take time. And every one of these ex-hostages had dark rings under their eyes from lack of sleep.

I let Arnie continue to lead us down the trail; he seemed to know the pace to set for this tired group. The only sounds were the shuffling of footsteps, the movement of Bells and Sophie's quiet words to the little boy.

JED 'KID' CURRY

How could I have forgotten about Rachel Lyn? I saw her on the porch watchin' but forgot about her while givin' all my attention to MG and his gang. Once I heard the words, "Got your back," I felt I wasn't alone and relaxed my vigilance (a word that would make Heyes smile when I used it). But I had forgotten her, and she got the drop on me. Almost ruined our entire plan. I have no doubt she would have killed me. And if she didn't, MG wouldn't have hesitated to pull the trigger. But Heyes saved everything - the mission, the hostages, and me.

Rachel's first errant bullet caught me. I felt it enter and exit high on my arm. Her second hit Colin in the shin. He said later he had seen me hit and not yell out in pain, so he tried to do the same. He never thought a bullet would burn when it entered his body. He fell on his side and put his hand over the wound and, despite his efforts, screamed.

Now that things had calmed down, Hank came over and apologized. "Preacher ain't here to take care of that, but I'll give it a try. Sent Neil to boil some water. Come on over to the bunkhouse."

I took a look around the yard. Our Devil's Hole boys were guardin' the men and one woman tied in the center of the place. From the determination on their faces, I knew the prisoners weren't goin' anywhere.

"So where are you hidin' my hostages, Kid? You can't get us and them out of here in that wagon of yours," taunted Mean Gene. The rest of the men just glared at me, and the woman was cryin'. "All of the men here are wanted, so they can't help you." An evil laugh escaped him thinkin' he had the best of me. But I turned and faced our old gang. They had always been loyal, never killed no one in a robbery or stole from the people, followin' Heyes' rules. They looked at me not knowin' what I'd say.

"Me and Heyes came up here with a very specific list of men to arrest. None of you are on that list. Governor figured you didn't ride with MG or Matt McWinters. Those are the men he wants."

"Ha, they all rode with me. That's why they live in the Hole," snarled the fallen gang leader.

"Know for a fact they pay you to let them hide out here. And you don't let them go on jobs with you." I don't know why I'm arguin' with him, so I don't say anything more, just head for the bunkhouse.

Colin was already there on a bunk that used to be Kyle's. He moaned as Hank dug into his leg.

"Make him drink more whiskey, Kid. It'll hurt less." Hank nodded at the bottle on the floor near the bunk.

But I understood why Colin didn't want any more whiskey. If he drank more, his tongue might be looser and give away his identity.

I took one of the new bandanas, of which he seemed to have an endless supply, out of his pocket. "Alex, gonna gag you. Bite down on it; it'll help."

I saw the pain in his eyes as he nodded and raised his head so I could tie it behind him.

I never knew how brave he was before. I don't think he knew either.

"Start drinkin' some of that yourself," Hank told me. "Heyes always said you didn't get drunk when he dug a bullet out of your leg. That right?"

"Had a lot worse pain in prison." I took a slug of the whiskey. "Save the rest to pour in the hole. It went all the way through."

LOM

On the train to Porterville, I thought of a lot of excuses to tell Preacher why I had called him there. He'd see through most of them. I decided only two would work. First, I need him to marry me and Miss Susan as soon as possible. And second, the truth.

Wishing I had been able to go with the boys to Devil's Hole, I did the exercises Dr. Arden had given me on the train. I even managed some light sleep. I tried to calculate if Preacher had enough time to ride to Porterville yet or would I beat him there.

Looking beautiful, Susan Porter met me on the train platform, putting her arms around me as soon as I dismounted. "Lom, I missed you so. I was worried." She looked down at my thigh. "You okay?"

I didn't care we were in public; I took her in my arms and kissed her. She didn't resist.

"Oh, Lom!"

"That's to show you I missed you, too."

I was nervous to tell her my first option. She's agreed to marry me but hasn't said anything further. I'm assuming a woman bank president like her, will want a big wedding with her pastor from Porterville. If that's what she wants, that's what we'll do, but I'd prefer a small intimate wedding.

Hooking her arm through mine, she bounced as she walked. She was flush with the excitement of having me home.

"Susan," I said quietly as we were walking.

"Yes, Lom."

"You do want to marry me, don't you?"

"Yes, Lom."

"Well, I sent for a friend of mine. He's a preacher."

She stopped and looked at me with tears in her eyes. "Oh, Lom. How did you know? I'm not showing yet, am I?" She didn't stop talking. "And how thoughtful of you to send for a preacher to marry us that's a stranger in Porterville. We can pick a date - somewhere around three months ago - and tell everyone we eloped. You're just wonderful! No wonder I love you."

Stunned, I returned the kiss she started with my thoughts racing. A Pa…I was going to be a Pa. And Susan kept gushing. "Do you think this preacher will go to Idaho with us and marry us there?"

My mind was spinning. But her words gave me an idea. I didn't know if Preacher was wanted in Idaho, but I like the idea of getting him out of Wyoming and Colorado where I know he's wanted.

"I'm sure he will."

HEYES

Me and Lom and the Kid had talked about this part. I didn't have a way to get these people to a town except to walk. But right now, we'd rest and eat where I spent last night. The middle-aged woman's name was Deidre and she spoke with a definite Irish brogue. Her husband runs the telegraph office outside of Denver. She took charge of the two younger boys and the young girl with the haunted brown eyes. She also gave orders to the two married women in their early twenties, Mrs. Dent and Mrs. Roberts. They were scared, looking behind during our descent on the secret back entrance to Devil's Hole, jumping at every sound. They shuddered if I, or any male, went near them.

Deidre put them to work making a fire, gathering wood, and searching for nuts. I had brought hooks and strings and two men, the young man with the broken right arm and the determined older man who had limped down the entire trail, sat on a boulder and fished. Deirdre had the younger boys digging for worms.

I looked over them. Some had been held hostage for up to two years; Arnie was the newest. They'd been abused, humiliated, and broken, yet not one of them had escaped into their minds. I was determined to get them all back to their loved ones but I wouldn't have been able to organize and comfort them the way Deidre was doing.

I let them know that we had a choice to make. I can't make it. I'm not as sure of my decisions as I used to be. Told them now we'd be walking. No one objected. Defiance had been beaten out of them. I understood. It had been beaten out of me too. They'd survived by leaning on each other. I could see that now.

"There's an old cabin with supplies for us; it's a two…" I stopped and looked around. "Two to four hour walk. We'll stay there until the Kid comes for us. Need to know if you want to camp here for the night or try to get to the cabin?"

When I discussed this part with the Kid and Lom, we had picked a meeting place east of here away from any town. We'd wired Mike Loveland in Bridgeport to stock it with supplies for a group people for a week. Someone in Three Birds or Cheyenne might be noticed and followed by the marshals. They still want to know where Devil's Hole is located.

The Kid and one of the members of our old gang were going to drive two wagons, theirs and the supply wagon at Devil's Hole, around the mountains and turn in the arrested Mean Gene Gang. I hoped Preacher wasn't one of them. Then they were coming back for us. I just needed to accomplish the near impossible task of getting this band of disheartened, broken people to that cabin.

"Miss Sophie can ride Bells when we go. I'll leave it up to you."

"The older man with the bent back and the limp, they called him Pappy, asked, "Mr. Heyes. If you was to walk there by yourself, how long would it take you?"

"It's Heyes. All of you my name is Heyes, no mister. "Take me about two hours."

I walked down to the water and let them make their decision. Thinking, I know that I used to just make a decision like this myself and talk everybody else into following me. Can't do that anymore…I can't even decide which I think is better, camping overnight here or to start walking.

JED 'KID' CURRY

When Hank had finished pourin' whiskey into my wound and coverin' it with a loose bandage, the graves were ready. Ignorin' the burnin' pain, I left a few good men to guard the prisoners and, despite my wound, shouldered one end of Wheat's coffin. With Lobo on the other end, we followed the men carryin' Kyle's casket in a solemn line.

I wasn't one for words but knew I would be expected to say somethin' without Preacher.

We lowered the caskets into the holes usin' ropes and gathered around.

"May God bless them on their journey. They were our good and loyal friends." That was all I could manage. The men around started to fill in the holes. I saw another recent grave further under the trees.

"That's Locke, one of the hostages. One day he just tried to walk right out of the Hole, just walked casually down the trail. MG shot him in the back, without warning," Harris told me. "He didn't want him buried. Wanted his body to lay there as a warning to the others, but that woman of MG's insisted on a burial."

I didn't know what to say. I resisted the urge to return to the yard, shoot MG, and leave him to die. I had some sympathy for some of the gang knowin' the prison terms awaitin' them and the hell that came with that. Couldn't think about that, I still had things to finish.

We had two wagons, but the Devil's Hole supply wagon had a bad wheel. It needed new pins.

"So sorry, Curry, that our wagon is not available for your use," Mean Gene snickered.

I ignored him and went to look in the supply shed. It was a mess, not like when Heyes ran the place. I found what I wanted and usin' the crowbar as a hammer and the fireplace in the leader's cabin, I got some nails just hot enough to be shaped into the missin' pins. I swung the crowbar right-handed, but my left arm throbbed with each hit. Where the billy club had hit me on the right forearm only a few days ago, it seemed like weeks but only a few days, the grid of wounds were still there. When I got near the fire, they hurt and burned even more than normal. But I ignored all that. I needed the two wagons. I needed these pins.

Colin was hurt; the bullet was out. Hank had slowed but not stopped the bleedin'. Heyes and the hostages were waitin' for a wagon to come get them. Colin would have to stay here a few days.

I carried Colin to the leader's cabin and laid him on my old bed. It looked like no one had been usin' the room. Trying to explain to Colin that he needed to stay in Devil's Hole until he was well enough to travel was hard. I could see he was scared. Hank was a rough lookin' nurse, but I had just trusted the man with my life. He would do the best he could. Colin's wound fever had come quickly.

"This man ain't no ordinary drifter, is he, Kid?" Hank had asked. I'd heard Colin mumblin' in his fever when I came into the room. Some was nonsense. But some sounded important.

"No, he's not, Hank, but he's a friend. One of the reasons you boys aren't arrested. Take good care of him until I get back without no more questions?" I asked.

"We'll make an outlaw of him yet," Hank teased, and I wondered just what Colin/Alex had said.

I gathered the gang in the leader's cabin and thanked the boys for their loyalty and help.

"Gee, Kid, it's you done us a favor. We got the Hole back," Blue Nose answered.

"Well, lay low for a while. Take care of Alex and don't let him leave here unless he's blindfolded. Don't want him knowin' how to get back here." They didn't understand but I knew they'd do as I asked.

"And I'd like a volunteer to drive the second wagon to Hopeful to turn them men into the sheriff. Worth five hundred dollars to me."

"Wouldn't take them there, Kid," Lobo spoke up. "Sheriff there is just liable to look the other way for Mean Gene."

We had considered this. Not knowin' just where the Hole was, the governor had sent US Marshals to four towns to wait for prisoners. Hopeful was one of them. MG wouldn't skip away there.

"I think you'll find that Hopeful is no longer welcomin' to the Mean Gene gang," I told them.

"You tell us that and you want one of us to drive a wagon in there to the SHERIFF? Every last one of us is wanted," Neil bragged.

"I guarantee your safety." I used the voice that meant don't argue but it was a long time since this was my gang.

"I'll do it then, you ain't never broke your word to us," Lobo volunteered.

Mean Gene was surprised when I drove his wagon out of the barn. "That their wagon needs some pins only a blacksmith can make. Just haven't had the time to send someone to have them made."

"Well, then be thankful the blacksmith came to you or half of you'd be walkin'."

He gave me a blank stare as I pulled him to his feet. They were no longer tied together but they were still under close guard, hands and feet bound. He shuffled toward the first wagon, ankles restricted. And I didn't intend to untie any of them.

"Where you takin' us?"

"Hopeful."

A smile curled the end of his mouth as he repeated, "Hopeful."