Winter's Refuge
Chapter Forty-Five
HEYES
I got a lot of information from the newspapers. Now I need to go back and look at maps and think. And I found the sibling ad. The Kid said he's going to show the paper he stole to Lom. He promised me he would get that paper back to the archive. I do not want to be accused of stealing anything and I know the Kid doesn't want to be found stealing. Stealing the paper might be enough to violate my parole. It has to get back here quickly so we're only borrowing it. But the Kid surprised me. He went into the main newspaper office and found the owner, a large, broad shouldered man named Michael Loveland. Probably from all the years looking at that little type, he squinted through strong glasses that made his eyes look small to all who saw him.
"Mr. Loveland?" the Kid said, approaching him.
"Ahh, are you Kid Curry or Hannibal Heyes?"
"Jed Curry, nice to meet you. Thank you for lettin' us read the old newspapers."
The Kid was smiling warmly. It was nice of him to think to thank Mr. Loveland.
"You're welcome. Not many people interested in reading them. Was told you reading them was important."
I stayed in the hall where I could hear but couldn't be seen. I do not like new people. They scare me.
"It is important, and I think we found what we were lookin' for…and more. I'd like to ask if I could borrow this newspaper."
There was silence but I could hear that the Kid showed him the paper.
"Important you say?"
"Could be a matter of life and death for someone close to us." The Kid's voice turned solemn.
"Then, it's yours. It'd be nice to get it back at some point, but I'd like to think that my little newspaper helped to save a life."
I sighed. We weren't stealing. We didn't need to confess anything at next month's parole meeting. It was going to be okay.
ASJ******ASJ
The Kid has been quiet tonight. I wish I had more words. I can't put feelings into my writing. We ate dinner in our room. Marshal Ken Josephs still feels he has to watch over us. He ate with us. He talked a lot about nothing. I think he was uncomfortable. The Kid had asked him if he had ever seen a body after a suicide bullet to the head.
"Can't say that I have."
"You sure there will be enough left for me to identify?" The Kid spoke softly, looking at the floor rather than anyone. I heard a touch of fear, but I think Josephs only heard apprehension.
"Don't really know." He hesitated before he continued, "The governor will be there with you. He hired him as warden. Feels he should be the one to confirm his identity."
The Kid had only been picking at his food. Now he set down his fork and pushed his chair back. He appreciated food more after prison food, but his huge appetite never returned. I thought he was going to go for a walk or something but instead he went and sat on his bed and picked up a book. It's still hard for me to remember that the Kid reads as much or more than I do. He told me once he finds comfort in the escape it gives him. I hope he finds that escape tonight.
LOM
Only way the doctor in Cheyenne would let me leave is if I went to the Kid's ranch and stayed under Dr. Arden's supervision. In truth, I looked forward to going to the ranch. I wasn't feeling as good as I pretended. And I was anxious to see the boys. I saw the anger in the Kid come out in the hotel. And then I saw him bury that anger and take control. When he yelled 'down', the strength in his voice was commanding. That anger was festering inside of him.
The governor, Colin, and two US Marshals are on the train to Bridgeport with me. I learned what happened to Fitzjohn. I felt no sadness, just a sense of twisted vengeance. Maybe it was because of the pain I was still in caused by his hired gun, I was glad he was dead.
The Kid met us at the train with one of the US Marshals. Heyes was nowhere in sight. He came over and helped me, cane and all, down the railcar stairs. He didn't comment on the cane or make me feel self-conscious about how much I leaned on it.
"How you feelin', Lom?"
"Getting better every day. Happy to be out of Cheyenne. Thanks for inviting me to the ranch." I looked around. "Heyes?"
"He's lookin' through some more newspapers this morning." He hesitated and I thought he was going to say more about the newspapers, but he didn't. "Don't think this is the kind of thing anyone should see unless they have to." I heard cold determination in his voice. "You can wait there with him if you want."
"You're very right, Mr. Curry." The governor had come to stand next to us. He studied the Kid. He was always studying the Kid. I don't think he could reconcile the outlaw leader and gunfighter, the prisoner who volunteered to work as a blacksmith in the searing sun of Arizona, with the quiet integrity of the man he had come to know.
"Governor." The Kid held out his hand and they shook. I noticed he didn't call him sir. He says that so seldom that I notice when he does.
"Mr. Curry, I'm sorry I have to ask you to do this with me. I know it's not going to be pleasant. I dreaded it all night. It's not a thing one can forget once seen."
US Marshal Janss led them over to the undertakers while I decided to skip the newspaper office and visit the saloon. They were gone longer than I thought. Colin joined me at a table by the window but never stopped talking and fidgeting.
Finally, he said, "I heard the undertaker say once they see Fitzjohn's body they won't forget. I understand what he means. I wake up every night-every single night-thinking about Jed's back and that whipping I watched. I haven't had a solid night's sleep since. Don't know if I ever will. I see it; I hear the whip strike. I hear the single yell Jed let out. It's like I can even smell all that blood. It's something that will always be a part of me."
I didn't know what to say. I didn't want to comfort him; he hadn't tried to stop it. We didn't know about Fitzjohn's vendetta then.
When the Kid and the governor came out of the undertaker's, the governor looked ashen and hurried to the nearest privy. He was pale and shaking. The Kid was standing with a straighter back than he had been since the whipping, but his controlled face showed no emotion, none at all.
Colin had rushed to the governor's aid, and I watched as the Kid came over to me. He sat in the chair Colin had just left, deep in thought. His face showed nothing, but his blue eyes surged with ferociousness.
"Drink?" I asked, lifting the bottle I had bought.
He waved me off. Then I realized he was working on burying this memory as he had buried so many others thrust upon him since childhood. He looked out the window at the building he had just left and took a deep breath. When he looked at me again, his eyes had calmed.
"Lom, got something I want to show you. Need to know what to do about it."
He had my attention. I was amazed how quickly he had gotten himself under control and changed the subject.
"What's that, Kid?"
He showed me the ad in the newspaper Heyes had found yesterday. Shivers went down my spine. "Who's watching Chrissy now?"
"Juan. He's a good man to have on your side in a fight. Aiden...er Dr. Arden's there, but he's not any protection. He more needs protection. Sheriff Birde stops by daily. And Chrissy's pretty good with a gun herself."
That last surprised me until I remembered who her brothers were.
"Think I'd like to share this ad with the governor and the marshals, if that's alright with you." I said.
"Whatever you think best. We're not sure how to handle it. And Lom, it's in the paper every Tuesday."
I suspected what the Kid would have liked to do at that address in the paper, but the idea wasn't exactly within the law.
When the governor and Colin joined us, the Kid pulled out a chair for the governor and kept watching him. When for the fourth time, the Kid asked, "Governor you gonna be alright?" He added, "That was mighty hard to see."
The governor nodded, locking eyes with him. "It certainly was, Jed. I'll be okay, but that's not a sight I'll soon forget. This ending was not what I expected when I appointed him. I never saw the violence or the obsession inside him."
Jed reached over and grabbed my bottle of whiskey and pushed a glass in front of the governor. "Here, sir, have a drink. It will help."
I heard it; he'd called the governor sir. The drink disappeared quickly, and I refilled the glass.
"Gonna go check on Heyes and rent a wagon to get you to the ranch, Lom. Gentlemen," The Kid said and left quickly.
"That's one of the best men I know," the governor said when he left.
I waited until the Kid and Heyes joined us again before showing the governor and Colin the newspaper ad. Heyes seemed agitated while I was talking.
"Heyes, you want to add something?" I asked him. He relaxed when he knew he was being acknowledged.
He got his chalkboard and wrote, "Don't say nothing. Have plan."
The Kid leaned forward to read the board. "A plan to catch whoever wrote that ad?"
Heyes looked at his partner and shook his head. I could see a welcomed glint in those brown eyes that I hadn't seen in a long time.
'Yes and m…mo…more." Heyes looked pleased at the word added to his vocabulary.
"Wait on ad," he wrote.
The governor had no patience. "We get a break after all these months and you want us to wait. No, we charge ahead quickly." His voice was domineering and loud.
Heyes recoiled as if struck across the face. The governor didn't notice. "I'm going to see that those US Marshals follow this lead today before it gets cold," he continued before realizing that the rest of us were not agreeing.
"Governor, I think Heyes has something else in mind." Jed's voice was steady and it steadied Heyes. "What're you thinkin', partner?"
Heyes erased the board and wrote slowly and carefully, his hand still trembling at the governor's outburst. "Plan to capture McWinters AND ad writer same time. Not yet time."
"Can we do that?" I asked, intrigued. I used to have complete faith in Hannibal Heyes Plans. I'd seen his solution to capturing Fitzjohn. This could be interesting.
I watched the governor look at Colin then the Kid before answering, "Okay, but we can't wait forever to move on this ad."
Heyes grinned and wrote, "Newspaper is seventeen months old."
In the end, the governor commended Heyes for discovering the ad. He said it was more information than the Bannerman Detective Agency had learned in all the months he had hired them. Heyes has always liked recognition and praise. Now he just enjoys the praise. He doesn't want to be famous anymore.
JED 'KID' CURRY
I rented a horse and wagon to take us home. Winter's Glory and Fall's Bell were tied to the back, still recoverin' after their hard ride yesterday. Lom needed the wagon; although he tried to be stoic and hide the pain, the pain was winnin'.
Marshal Ken Josephs rented a horse and accompanied us. The governor told him his job was to guard Christina McWinters and be the ideal ranch hand.
It was comfortin' to turn on Old Cummings Road and see Chrissy readin', rockin' on the front porch, quilt on her lap and the two dogs at her feet. Juan heard us and walked down to open the gate when I stopped the wagon for a minute at the blacksmith shop. I squinted to read the note on the front from the Crenshaws to let them know when I returned. They needed a shovel repaired. I'd deal with it tomorrow.
When I got to the porch, Chrissy stood and ran to the wagon. She wasn't expectin' Lom and knew somethin' was wrong because we weren't on our horses.
"Lom?" she asked. Then she saw Marshal Josephs.
"Hello, Miss, my name's Ken," he said as he dismounted and removed his hat.
Chrissy ran to hide behind me. I'd moved to the back of the wagon. Lom had just woken up. Chrissy stood and leaned into me, her eyes still on the marshal…and his gun. She took a step back as I leaned over the side of the wagon and lifted Lom out. I stood him on the porch, so he didn't have to deal with the steps. Heyes handed him his cane.
"It's okay Chrissy. Ken's our new ranch hand. He's also a US Marshal." She needed to know the truth. "I need to work in the smithy more for a while before the snows come, so he'll help Juan. He's one of the good guys." I slipped my arm around her waist and kissed her hair.
She wasn't convinced but turned her attention to Lom. Doctor Arden had just come out of the house. I think he was hidin' in there until he knew who was approachin'.
After three steps, Lom started weavin' and I picked him up again. Carryin' him into the house, I headed toward the couch. Heyes stopped me and pointed to his room.
"You givin' your room to Lom, Heyes?"
He nodded emphatically. "Yes."
"Dr. Arden, looks like Lom will be in Heyes' room. Need to tell you how he's hurt."
Chrissy ran ahead of me and pulled off the blanket on Heyes' bed. "Dirty!' she said as she left with it. She came back quickly with a clean quilt and Dr. Arden's medical bag.
"Sheriff Trevors, can you tell me what I'm going to find when I take off this bandage," asked the doctor as he bent over the bed." His fear was gone in concern for his patient.
Lom managed a weak smile. "Blood probably."
I went to the other room and came back with an envelope. "Here's Lom's medical records from the doc in Cheyenne and some laudanum he sent for the pain."
Dr. Arden scanned the papers. "Looks like you're healing, Sheriff. I've got the bleeding stopped. I'm sure it was from the jostling in the wagon." He was very efficient and soothin'. "I'm going to rebandage it looser and give you something for the pain. And we'll let you sleep." He turned to me. "Jed, there are a few things we need to talk about."
ASJ*****ASJ
Juan had made chicken stew for dinner. Ken joined us. Chrissy was wary of him, sittin' with her thighs touchin' mine. I could tell he felt awkward. Juan had invited him to share his upstairs room in the barn. Chrissy finished first, washed her dish and went to her room without a word. Juan and Ken left soon after. Heyes insisted on eatin' at the small desk in his room goin' over his notes from the old newspapers and watchin' over Lom.
"Aiden, got something for you but I'm not sure you're gonna want it," I told him and handed him Fitzjohn's diary. "Before you read it, there's some things you need to know about the last few days. Fitzjohn is dead, killed himself. I saw what was left of his body. He can't hurt you or send anyone to hurt you."
I knew he'd been paranoid of strangers since the gunmen in the hospital. He was the one that had testified against Fitzjohn and the guards. His testimony got them fired. He is not a brave man and the roughness of men in the west frightened him. I think he regretted the decision to testify, but he never said anything about it to me.
He busied himself flippin' through the diary while I described what happened. Some parts I had lived and some I had heard.
"He said he was Kid Curry?" He looked up at me suddenly. "Interesting.".
"That's what the marshals told me. Said something like 'Priscilla, I was Kid Curry in that dark barn that night.'"
"Sounds like a confession to me but I'll read his diary. Just from skimming it, I can tell you when he saw the real Kid Curry come to visit Heyes, his mind created a story to assuage his guilt. And he had lied and told his stepdaughter he was Kid Curry." Aiden was studying the last pages tilting it to get better light.
"Governor read part of it. Said it's dark and scrambled. He advised you not to read it but thought if you did, it might help in your work." I don't think he heard me. He was absorbed in his readin'. I cleared the table and even washed his dish. There'd been something he wanted to talk about before I gave him the diary. I'd wait for him to remember.
I heard Chrissy movin' something around in the hall and went to look. It was the cot she sometimes slept on in my room.
"Chrissy, what are you doin'?" I took the cot from her. "Where are we goin' with this, darlin'?"
She took a minute to process my question. "Livin' room. Heyes sleep couch. Jed sleep cot. Dr. Aiden sleep Jed's room still. Close to Lom."
I smiled. She was thinkin' ahead. Aiden had been usin' my bed while we were travelin'. He could stay there. Heyes could take the couch and I'd use the cot. It'd be nice when the upstairs rooms were finished. Of course, I had definite plans for a couple of the new rooms.
Chrissy followed me with a quilt as I moved the cot. She wanted to say something but was nervous. She just needed time and patience. I set the cot against the wall and sat on the couch. She sat next to me.
I put my arm around her gently. "I missed you, Chrissy darlin'. How has it been havin' Dr. Arden here?"
She giggled. "He want ranch but scared of our horses."
I gave her a look and she giggled again.
"Doctor better cook now and…and Chrissy talk to doctor."
"Glad he's learnin' to do something. Doesn't seem like the ranchin' type to me. What do you mean you talked to the doctor?"
She wasn't gigglin' now. She had pulled away from me and had folded her hands in her lap. Dhe sat very straight. Her actions concerned me. I didn't want her to be afraid to talk to me about anything.
Chrissy darlin', are you sick? Hurt?" I asked.
"No hurt now," she said, lookin' forward, not at me. "Hurt prison."
She was quiet and I remember her condition when I found her in the dark cell.
"Chrissy darlin' talk to doctor about being wife to Jed." She still wasn't lookin' at me.
"Oh." I was at a loss for words and it was my turn to stare at the wall. I looked over at Aiden still sittin' at the kitchen table absorbed in the book.
Chrissy stood up. "Good! Now Jed talk to doctor." She ended the conversation by leavin' the room.
I sat for a few minutes and enjoyed bein' alone. When it's quiet, I feel like it's the calm before a storm. I just wanted that calm to last.
I went into the kitchen, poured two cups of coffee, and sat down next to Aiden.
"Interestin'?" I asked him, noddin' to the diary.
"Quite an example of a descent into hell," he mumbled before lookin' at me. "Jed, yes, I need to talk to you about some things."
"Chrissy told me you'd talk to me."
He smiled. "I thought you two were already married and you may be but I'm confused. You did tell me you were parents."
"Twins, one boy, one girl."
"Well this is a delicate conversation and if you'd rather not…"
"Aiden, is Chrissy alright? Is something wrong?" I demanded in a stern voice, not able to hide my concern.
He sighed, lookin' for the proper words. "She initially came to me saying she wanted to be a wife to her Jed."
I think I blushed. It wasn't a subject I talked about even with Heyes. I didn't know how to reply to the doctor, but it wasn't necessary. He kept talkin'.
"She was beaten in prison. Sustained some permanent injuries. Her back would benefit from that same salve I made for you. She was abused, too. Well, you know that. She was abused sexually, fiercely. That's what forced her into herself. To some extent, she still lives there. It is her safe place. She's healthier now but…well….but I don't really want to give you advice in these things. You're far more experienced."
"Aiden, what are you tryin' to say?"
"She's doing well here at the ranch. With you she feels safe. But she is still fragile mentally…and to some extent physically. Anywhere else and she'll regress. She was able to function at the hospital with a lot of support around her because she was concentrating on you."
"She's stayin' here, ain't got no need to go nowhere else. She likes to go to Mass in Three Birds now and then though."
The doctor looked shocked. "How does she do there?"
"Fine, she sits in the back between me and Juan or with Frank and his wife. We leave right after."
"About the other, her wifey duties as she says. Be patient. Go slow. Let her set the pace. She will be able to… er… to accomplish all her wifely duties."
"I ain't gonna hurt her. I promised no one, even me, would ever hurt her like that again. And I ain't gonna let anyone else hurt her in any way."
"Exactly. She is anxious to be your wife again. Are you two married? I see her ring and there's children."
"Well..."
"Don't tell me. Something to think about. Common law marriages aren't recognized in Wyoming and Nebraska, only recognizes it if they were filed in a state where it's legal. How long were you in Colorado when you rescued her?"
"Just enough time to get across the state and get out. Why?"
"I'm not a lawyer but you may be able to file for common law marriage there. Time is not a factor, just that you were living as man and wife."
I nodded then turned at a sound behind me. Heyes was standin' there and immediately looked down when I saw him, submissive again. A flash of anger at his attitude went through me but I quickly controlled it.
"How long you been there, partner?"
HEYES
The Kid caught me listening in on a private conversation with Dr. Arden. He seemed angry at first, but it went away or he hid it. He doesn't always show it when he's mad. But there's something I have to tell him and it's important. I'm afraid if I look in his eyes, he'll be mad so I keep looking down. I need my chalkboard to talk to him, but I don't want to move and do something wrong.
"Heyes, look at me. You with me here?"
I raise my eyes but I'm careful not to move. The guards use the billy club when you move when they're talking to you. But he meets my eyes with those clear blue eyes, and I don't see anger.
"How long you been there?"
Yes, that's what he had asked me before. I don't see a billy club. The Kid doesn't have a billy club. Marshal Josephs might though. I wasn't supposed to hear what the Kid and Dr. Arden said, but I need to tell him something important now that I know. I mimic writing.
"Go get your chalkboard if you don't have your words."
I waited until he broke the contact before I went to my room for my board. Lom was snoring loudly and talking about 'Susan.' I know Susan is Miss Porter. Didn't know that Lom had feelings for her.
"Come sit at the table, Heyes," Doctor Arden invited me to sit down. I looked to the Kid to confirm the invitation, but he was looking at something in a handwritten book I hadn't seen before.
"You don't need Jed's permission to sit down, Heyes, or mine for that matter. This is your house." He used the tone that he used in his office when he was treating me.
I nodded but I know he's wrong. The Kid said the same thing, but this isn't my house or ranch. It's the Kid's, no matter what he says. And I'm going to be good and my plan will help make us safe.
I sat across from them. Before I started writing, I passed the Kid our newspaper from last Tuesday. He grabbed it and turned to the last page. I know he saw the ad because he swore under his breath.
I wrote, "Colorado my plan. You go. No Chrissy go but rumor she going. Trap. Bait. Missing piece. Timing not yet."
LOM
There's something restful about the continuous movement at the Curry Ranch. The Kid sets the mood and it's warm and welcoming. It seems effortless but I think he works hard to make sure everyone is welcomed.
I'm recovering quickly here. I get lots of rest, good food, fine doctoring, and a rocker on the front porch with a warm quilt every afternoon. Juan sent telegrams to Porterville whenever he went into Three Birds. Rudy answered that all was well, and I chose to believe him.
Dr. Arden is talkative. In the afternoon he joins me on the porch. He's learned to make decent coffee. He wants to leave his job the prison. He took it as a favor to his friend, the governor. I think I've talked him into staying until Heyes is off parole. He has all kinds of ideas, none of them viable, of what he wants to do. He thought of being a rancher, but he's scared of horses and cows. He considered becoming a doctor in Three Birds, but they already have an established doctor. The one thing he is not considering is going back home and into a practice with his father. I hear some bitterness there but he doesn't talk about it and I won't ask.
But reading Fitzjohn's diary changed his thinking. He didn't talk much about it but the study of the mind is his specialty. He helped, is still helping, Heyes' recovery. I don't know his background but this seems to be his passion. We seem to be his only friends. He's awkward around people when he's not being a doctor. From what he's said, books were his friends growing up.
But he has finally decided to go back to Cheyenne and the prison when I leave tomorrow. The men he testified against are either dead or in prison in Illinois. It was thought the farther away they were sent, the less chance the former prison guards would be known.
With their horses, visiting mares, and the blacksmith shop all taking up time, I still never saw the Kid turn down a request for help from his neighbors. We talked about it the night before I left. Dr. Arden ventured to the stable to listen to Chrissy reading to the horses. Me, the Kid and Heyes were rocking and relaxing on the front porch. In the cold fall wind, we each had a warm quilt on our laps and a cup of hot coffee in our hands to keep us warm.
"Kid, where'd you go this afternoon? Thought you were going to help Ken and Juan fix those fences before the winter storms come?" I asked.
"Tom Drake needed some help rebuildin' his chicken coop. He saw some foxes around and was worried it wasn't strong enough. We built a new one as an extension to the barn."
"Been meaning to talk to you about that."
"About movin' our chicken coop inside the barn?" He laughed, intentionally misunderstanding me.
"No, about helping everyone anytime they ask. You're doing too much. Just yesterday you went to buy bread and ended up helping someone in town replace a broken window and on the way back I heard you talking about fixing a hole in the widow's roof." And that happens most every day."
He just smiled and winked at Heyes. "Just doin' what my pa and Heyes' pa taught us about being a good neighbor. They were always there to help neighbors."
Heyes nodded his agreement. But then I saw the Kid's eyes swirl gray and the anger just below the surface. "Course when me and Heyes needed their help, no one but the priest was there for us."
"Stop, Kid," Heyes spoke quickly. "Think good."
We both looked at him and he looked like the cat that had eaten the canary, he was so proud of saying new words. But his words had done what he intended and the fire in the Kid's eyes was gone.
"Lom, if people need help, I try to help them. Always have, always will."
HEYES
We've been back home almost three weeks now and the line outside the blacksmith shop was still long this morning. I know the Kid couldn't sleep last night with pain and worry. Chrissy still puts the salve on his back each night. She looks closely, too closely for the Kid. He had found a way to live with the pain. When Chrissy saw some of the lacerations had opened again, probably from swinging that heavy hammer all day, she scolded him. When two days later they were getting infected, she sent for Dr. Sexton in Three Birds. He hadn't seen the Kid's back since before he went back to prison. I almost challenged him when he made some nasty remarks about treating repeat offenders with governors for friends, but he cleaned out the wounds. I don't think he tried to be gentle or numb the spot. The Kid gritted his teeth as he laid on his stomach on the bed.
So, I know the Kid was up most of last night. He worries about everything and everyone. That used to be my job. Still, he smiles and greets everyone, neighbor or stranger, cordially and directs the horses for shoeing to Chrissy's line. I can see the neighbors respect him and his work, but he doesn't see that. He just keeps working harder to be a part of this community.
I sat down at the table in the back room with a glass of water to balance the smithy portion of the books for the month. The Kid was looking for the receipts for the supplies delivered last week. I doubt he'd find them. The shop wasn't well organized for record keeping. There were too many places the Kid might have laid them down. But he knows where every tool hangs on the walls around the forge and where every piece of scrap metal could be found.
There were a lot of customers here today and not just to have their horses shoed. The Kid was getting a new reputation. This time as a fine metal craftsman. I even saw some ladies in his line. Some had kitchen pots and pans to mend. Others, like Mrs. Birde, were here with their husbands. I know the sheriff and his wife were here to pick up two belt buckles that the Kid made for the sheriff's brothers. The detail of the three abstract birds was beautiful. Mrs. Birde had drawn the picture and the Kid had created it.
The Kid had excused himself from his customers to try and find the receipts for me so I could start working.
I jumped up when Chrissy screamed. I pulled the knife the Kid had made me, from my boot.
"Leave her alone." I heard the Kid's menacing growl. I know he's armed. He wears his gun until he starts to work with the forge and his hammer. Then it's on a nail on the wall. There's nothing on the nail now.
"What is a woman like you doing working in a blacksmith shop?" My attention is drawn to a rough bearded man with his gun tied down on his left hip. I think he is a stranger, but he has the look of a prison guard.
Chrissy had been out front checking in the horses to be shoed. Now she's retreated into the forge – a place she seldom entered. She cowered against the wall of hanging tools the Kid had made.
The stranger was grinning a grin I didn't like. It scared me. Made me want to stop and look down waiting to be hit with a billy club. I recognized the malicious grin of a prison guard about to do something cruel. He followed her until she was backed against the hanging tools, sending some of them clanging to the floor. Quickly, he grabbed her breasts with one hand and pulled up her dress with the other.
His confident laugh was as sadistic as his grin. "Why would I leave her alone? Been searching for her. And she's nothing but a prison whore and I'm in need of a quick…"
I rushed to help her, but the Kid got there first. He grabbed the man by the shoulder and spun him around. He planted his right fist firmly into the man's jaw.
The man looked offended as he stumbled backwards. "What ya do that for? Ain't like I haven't had her dozens of times before. Ain't that right, whore?"
The Kid took his gun belt off and laid it on his anvil. Then he hit him harder, this time in the eye.
The watching crowd of customers gasped and stepped back, except for the sheriff. I went to Chrissy, but her eyes were like a wild animal's, and she pushed me away in fear.
"I came here legal like. Got a poster for the bounty on her." He reached into his jacket pocket and held it out to the Kid. He ignored it, but Sheriff Birde grabbed it. He had an arm out in front of the Kid's chest. It wouldn't have stopped the Kid, but for now he respected its intention.
"Just wanted some fun before I take her in..."
The Kid landed a punch to his other eye. I saw Chrissy pick up two sharp tools that had fallen to the ground
"Where you from, son?" Sheriff Birde had a growl almost as deep as the Kid's.
"Colorado."
"You get this wanted poster there?"
"Yeah. I work in the prison there." He leared at Chrissy. She let out a cry. "This is a special assignment for the governor. Been trying to find her for three months."
Sheriff Birde waved the poster at him. "This here bounty is illegal. You kill her, you'll stand trial for murder."
I tried to go to Chrissy but again she pushed me away her eyes focused on the intruder, the sharp tools held out in front of her. I could see the Kid advancing on the man.
Sheriff Birde was trying to control and defuse the situation. I think he's a friend of the Kid's so I hope he's on our side.
The intruder was arrogant. "Nope. All I gotta do is bring her dead or alive back to Colorado and I'm a rich man who doesn't have to work as a prison guard anymore."
"This is illegal in Nebraska and the Colorado governor can't help you here." The sheriff placed himself between the Kid and the man.
Suddenly the man drew his gun and grabbed Chrissy. He held her so tight around her neck I could see she couldn't breathe. He put his gun to her head. "Dead or alive it says."
At the same time, the sheriff and the Kid charged the man and Chrissy stabbed him in his privates with the knife from the wall. He howled and let go of his grip on her. She retreated to the corner.
I could tell the Kid had lost control. All his repressed anger and emotions showed in his eyes as they turned dark blue. He moved like a cougar about to strike. And then he pounced at the man fists flying. The Kid knocked him down and sat on him, raining punches on his head and face. The man was howling in pain. I needed to stop the Kid!
"No Kid, stop! He ain't going nowhere. The sheriff's here. He ain't worth throwing everything away for!" I yelled, trying to make him understand. I tried to pin his arms to his side, but he was too strong for me. "The sheriff'll take care of him. Chrissy needs you."
Warily, the Kid stood up and was looking at me with tears of anger in his eyes and I expected to feel his wrath turned toward me. I cringed at the thought of another swollen jaw but refused to remove my hands from his arm. I looked at Sheriff Birde. He had cuffed the man on the floor, pulling him to his feet..
US Marshal Ken Josephs and Juan rushed into the shop. Juan looked at me with his mouth open. They had heard what I said. All my words had just come rushing out when I needed them.
Josephs grabbed the cuffed man from the sheriff. "Mr. Curry, I've got this handled," he said firmly.
The intruder looked back at us-me, the Kid and Chrissy-and spat on the ground. "They're nothing but outlaws and convicts. Lowlifes with friends who know the governor. Thieves! She's wanted dead or alive!" he yelled to the gathered crowd. "If I were you good people, I'd throw the likes of them out of my town. They're trash." He spat again, hitting my shoe.
His words hit me harder than any punch he could throw. He was right. We were trash. Why would these people want us in their town? I was surprised when a pregnant woman climbed on a wooden box and looked around. "You're wrong, mister, so wrong. These three people are welcomed and valued members of our community. They may be EX-convicts, but we are proud they are our neighbors and our friends." Mrs. Beverly Birde spoke passionately, everyone listened. No one objected.
The Kid went to Chrissy, but she held the tools in front of her. "NO! Go away!"
"Chrissy darlin', I ain't gonna hurt you. I would never hurt you," he said, walking slowly toward her arms held open.
"NO!" she screamed and jabbed out with the knife, catching him in the forearm with such force that it started bleeding immediately. "GO AWAY! DON'T TOUCH ME!"
"Chrissy darlin', it's me, Jed."
But she couldn't hear him. I could tell she went inside her head. It's safe there. I know. No one calls you trash there. No one spits on your shoe.
Mrs. Birde was unafraid and walked up to Chrissy, grabbing her wrists firmly but gently. "Now Chrissy, you don't want to hurt your Jed." Chrissy dropped her makeshift weapons. "Let's go up to the house and have some tea. You always liked tea and we can talk about old times."
I didn't know Chrissy liked tea and I wasn't sure what was meant by old times, but she got Chrissy's attention. She let Mrs. Bride put her arm around her waist and led her to the house. I heard Chrissy say through her tears, "Chrissy never hurt Jed. Chrissy love Jed."