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He couldn't tell Jenny yet, it was too difficult for him to face up to his shortcoming - his pride. If he couldn't face her, how could he write to Jeddie, let alone face him next year when he's discharged?
The anger built up strong inside and he knew he had to work it out. He walked downhill to practice his fast draw, imagining the face of Jim Plummer on the side of each bottle and can, obliterating each in rapid succession. The anger was still there, maybe even worse now. He needed something more physical.
A wagon of fresh hay had been delivered to the stable out back. He rolled up the sleeves of his white long john top, hopped onto the wagon and grabbed the pitch fork, tossing the green hay up to the loft. Brigid walked in.
Heyes eyed her and quickly turned back to his work, climbing up the ladder and moving the sweet smelling alfalfa to the back of the loft making room for the rest on the wagon. Brigid followed him up. She leaned against the side wall of the loft, unafraid of the flying fork, the man, the anger. The fresh hay was inviting. Her eyes showed it.
He stabbed at the fresh hay as if it needed stabbing, avoiding the issues of Brigid, his anger, bosoms, his shame, his regret, bare bosoms, his humiliation, getting chumped, the sweet alfalfa, how could he be so blind, wiggling bottom in the hay, his desire for revenge, his desire burning through his dungarees. Each demanding. Each competing for his attention.
Brigid won.
She knew she would. She didn't know how much he'd make her pay for his complete attention. The price was high, but the rewards were greater.
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Jenny made no attempt to hide her gaze, she felt no shame in watching Heyes while away the afternoon at poker when he obviously was avoiding her and the conversation he promised when he rode in. Time to nudge the boy into action.
"You about ready?" She stood before him at the table.
Heyes glance up once then swallowed the guilt he felt in neglecting Jenny. It was far less than his neglect of his cousin, and he serving out his full enlistment while yearning to be free again. Free like him. All the freedom in the world and how did he use it? He dealt the next hand. The afternoon whiled away.
The room was quiet in the closed saloon but for Harry shuffling and clinking behind the bar readying for tomorrow. In the dark corner sat the dark haired man with the almost black eyes under the black hat, slowly turning the glass of whiskey around and around on the table. It was Jenny's signal.
"Which pride is in the way tonight?"
The insight caught Heyes off guard. His dimples appeared below the shadow of his hat brim.
"Good to see those again, sweetie!" She sat down beside him. "Want to let it out now?"
And he did. The outlaw life he'd signed on to. His trust in Plummer and the betrayal, his pride that he, himself, pumped up every chance the gang gave him, his neglect of his younger cousin's welfare, the tunnel dreams, the shame, not knowing how to face Jeddie, fearing he'd broken the bond they'd had since, well forever, could they even be friends again, let alone best friends, and how can he even start on fixing any of it when Jeddie is on a steamboat heading deep into the eastern parts of the country, so far away from him, they've never been this far apart ever before, never, and he needs to write Jeddie and tell him what he'd done but all he can do is wait for the next letter from Jeddie.
"Well, honey, sounds to me like you just worked it out." Jenny pulled out the salient part for him.
Heyes looked up and smiled. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "What would I do without you, Jenny?"
"You'd ride the trails, sweetie!" She patted his arm. "None of that, now. You'll stay right here and wait for Jeddie's letter. He loves you. He'll understand, if you're honest with him."
She watched him closely as she spoke, saw his eyes shift so slightly only a good friend would notice. "Completely honest," she added.
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The last letter Heyes had received from Jeddie was sent just before embarking to his new assignment, brief and to the point. Jeddie had said it'd be some time before reaching Philadelphia, anywhere from two weeks to a month were possible. The wait was harder on Heyes than he gave out, so it was with great relief that he took the letter Billy handed him in the saloon. Heyes left the poker table despite a winning streak that garnered him almost eight hundred dollars that afternoon from the ranchers and their hands and their ignorance of odds. He relocated winnings and bottle to the lone table in the far corner to read.
Dear Hannie,
I HATE this place! First there was the traveling by boat for so long I forgot how it feels to be on unmoving land for my feet and stomach. And the whole trip I hear all the time -mark twain!- which they do to say how deep the water is, they're always checking so they don't sink. It's two fathoms. I asked the leadsman. And that's 12 feet which is safe for paddle steamers. My ears are still ringing with the words!
Fort Mifflin is on an island. A small island! The fort goes back to before the war for independence, it's a walled fort with diamond shaped corners for better fireing range. It's almost all engineers and them in schooling. I can take two classes for free because of my enforcement duties but I haven't decided yet which ones to take.
Officers have the smaller barracks and enlisted the other. Met some who seem friendly but not too friendly to a -western frontier- soldier. Maybe things will change once I get to know more about this fort.
My immediate is Ordnance Sergeant MacKenna. The highest officer here is Colonel Abercromby. I started learning the fortifications, armory, and all that is needed for enforcement. I like doing the enforcement part, there is lots that go into it that I already done, weapons and planning, they call it strategy, makes it kind of exciting. I also get to practice at the fireing range just like at Fort Lyon. I miss the men back there. And Brazen.
We are right near Philadelphia and we get leave to go into the city some times. I haven't got mine yet. When I do, I'll get an account at a good bank and let you know where.
I hope your at Jenny's and can write back fast. It's been a long time without even getting to send you a letter.
Your cousin,
PFC J. Curry
Fort Mifflin
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Heyes climbed the stairs to his room, took up a pen and began his reply immediately.
Jeddie will understand. After all, they did their first job together, just months after he helped his cousin out of Valparaiso. They were half starved so during a July 4th celebration in Denver, they broke into a general store and made off with the money in the cash register, $82.41. He smiled at the pittance that had seemed a windfall at their age.
Heyes could still feel the exhilaration and the freedom of that first time. But Jeddie's pout spoke of his regret. They had one meal before they broke in again and returned the remainder.
Dear Jeddie,
I'm writing from Jenny's. I left Plummer a few months ago for good.
He could go no further. He just couldn't put in a letter that he'd become an outlaw safe cracker. He knew Jeddie's moral sensibilities and he knew it would upset him so far away and he bound to the cavalry for another year.
The words just wouldn't come together for the silver tongued outlaw. He put down the pen and went downstairs hoping for a night poker game. Jenny approached him at the bottom of the stairs.
"Finish your letter already?"
"You know I didn't, Jenny." He looked down, took a breath and apologized. "Sorry, Jenny, didn't mean to use that tone with you. I'm just having trouble putting into words what I been doing."
"Come with me, sweetie." Jenny lead him to her office. She opened the lower drawer of her desk removing a leather folder, opened it and selected from several newspaper clippings. "Put this in with your letter. I'm sure your cousin will figure out why you can't put some things in writing."
Heyes took the clipping from her. Bold headlines: "Plummer Gang Strikes Union Pacific Train. Entire Payroll Stolen." The accompanying article surmised the gang had a professional safe cracker possibly from the Continent, owing to the speed in which the robbery took place. Yeah, that ought to be clear enough for Jeddie. Now, to get the courage to finish the letter. And mail it.
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"Hold up, Private Curry!" Jeddie turned to see who was calling his name outside the fort library where he was headed to study.
"Lieutenant McAlister!" The men shook hands warmly, each happy to see a familiar face. "Good to see you, sir! Oh!" Jeddie saluted, McAlister returning it with a grin.
"You transfer here?" Jeddie hoped the answer would be positive, he needed a friendly face around.
"Same here! Yeah, just got in last night. Too bad our orders didn't come at the same time, the boat trip might have been more tolerable. I still hear that "mark twain" echoing in my head!"
Jeddie laughed. "At least we knew they were looking out for us. You headed to the library?" Jeddie pointed at the building with his thumb.
"No, I'm on my way to Advanced Geology class and spotted you. You're in a class?" McAlister pointed to the two books under Jeddie's arm.
"Demolition and Explosives. I get two free classes for the year."
"And you thought learning to blow things up properly sounded enlightening. You're a Renaissance man, Private Curry!"
Jeddie didn't have a clue what that meant so he responded with his best cocky smile. It worked. McAlister laughed and slapped him on the back.
"Been to the city yet?" McAlister asked.
"Yeah, some of it. Got one leave and took a trolley around to get my bearings. Big buildings and dusty streets."
McAlister laughed again. Jeddie was enjoying his company, such a relief from the military-business-only interaction he'd experienced since arriving at Fort Mifflin.
"I was assigned here once before so I know my way around a piece. Next time you get leave, I'd be happy to show you around."
"Well, now, I appreciate that offer. And I accept!" Jeddie offered his hand again to McAlister.
"Splendid! I have to go or I'll be late. Hey, I'll stop by the library after class, maybe see you there." He shook Jeddie's hand. "Good seeing you again, Private Curry!"
"You too, Lieutenant!" Jeddie watched McAlister turn and hurry toward the lecture hall. Damn it was good to hear a friendly voice and see a friendly face! Damn, it made him miss Frenchie. A darting pain shot through his chest. Double damn, he missed Hannie. So much so, he'd write his cousin from the library!
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Dear Hannie,
A familiar face showed up here, you didn't meet him at Fort Lyon. Lieutenant McAlister. He was stationed there by the corps of engineers and they sent him here to Mifflin for more schooling.
I'm taking demolition and explosives. Learned how to see where is the best place to put explosives to take down a building or other structure. There's book reading and -hands on- learning. We been through all the gun powder and now in TNT and next is learning nitro.
The food is better here than at Fort Lyon.
I got into some trouble in demolition class. The professor, not army, got tired of my questions and said I was holding back the real students in class who would be engineers so he kicked me out. So I did my studying at the library. Then they fired him and put Lieutenant McAlister as teacher. He don't mind my questions at all, puts them in words for the rest of the class and we all get an answer. He studies with me at the library. You know how I don't take to book learning so well.
On leave I was in the city and took a trolly to get a first idea of the place. Very dusty. Say! They must have a famous lady in town named Nina because I see her name on signs in lots of stores. Maybe I will see her show some night.
There aint enough army women in the fort for laundry so they come from the city. I asked Mrs. Gudmussen what is the name of the pretty girl who gives me my clean things every week. She's Miss O'Sullivan. Katie. Prettiest thing I ever did see, Hannie! Hair black as coal and bright blue eyes. I'm going to ask her if I can call on her next leave.
Say! They have something here a game they call -base ball- and Philadelphia has a team they call -Athletics.- Lots of people go to their games and teams come from New York city and Boston and the Athletics go there. They are called -professional- and that means they get paid for playing this game! Can you imagine, Hannie! The rules are set and there different from the game we played at Valparaiso. Rounders, remember? Me and some in the barracks will take in a game when I get leave again. The newspaper has lots to say about them.
I did not get a bank yet. There is a Western Union right near the pier on the other side.
Well, Hannie, mail call is in minutes and I need to stamp this, the mail boat leaves quick. I hope your doing well and to hear from you real soon.
Good bye for this letter.
Your cousin,
PFC J. Curry
Fort Mifflin
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
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"MAIL CALL!" Soldiers circled around the platform where the Master Sergeant stood with mail bag, calling out the name on each envelope.
"Private First Class J. Curry!" Jeddie didn't expect to hear that when he'd just posted a letter to Hannie. He took the letter and walked to the library where he was to meet McAlister.
Seated at the usual table, he opened the envelope. A newspaper clipping fell from between the folded papers. His blue eyes widened in shock as he read down the article.
"Bad news?" McAlister stood before him. Jeddie quickly lowered his hands below the table top, folded the clipping and returned it to the envelope.
"Ah, no, no. No. It's... my cousin... he's..."
"Why don't you finish the letter. I'll come back when I find my reference book."
Dear Jeddie,
I'm writing from Jenny's. I left Plummer a few months ago for good. I will tell you everything when we are together again.
There is one thing you need to believe when I say it, Jeddie. All the money I sent you I made off poker. I would never bring you into something that was not your own doing and of your free will. I have the most respect for you, Jeddie.
I can't say how deep I feel the death of Frenchie. I never got to know him much but he was your chum and that made him mine. I wish we could be together and talk. So much has happened, so much has changed since you enlisted.
If you get discharged from Fort Mifflin instead of Fort Lyon you need to tell me before, maybe two months if that is possible with the army so I can get there in time. I will let you know where you can send me a telegraph if it's possible.
I plan to go to Texas and find work on one of those big cattle baron ranches. Have a lead since I rode the Chisholm Trail after leaving Plummer. I will let them know my cousin is looking for work next spring and we will ride together again. If I get steady work I will send a new address. For now, please keep writing to me at Jenny's.
I hope and I pray that you still want to ride with me, Jeddie.
After that last sentence there is nothing else I can say to you. That's all that matters to me in the whole world.
Your cousin,
Hannie
Jeddie set his head in his hands, fingers in his hair.
Hannie, why? Why?
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The aromas were different, yet somehow familiar. Jeddie sat in the unlit church, third pew from the back, over on the left. He didn't know why the building drew him as he walked down the street, maybe there was an answer to his cousin problem he'd find here. It was worth the try. Hannie was worth the try.
The many colors in the glass windows illuminated by sunlight reminded him of the meadow in spring back in Kansas where he and Hannie used to play, prairie flowers of all kinds and colors, dance partners with the wind. The memories of his happy childhood brought a sad smile.
He seemed to be the only one inside. Then, a side door opened up front. A priest entered. He looked to be in his fifty's, tall, trim, hair white, thick, and wavy. He knelt on one knee in the front center and walked down the isle. He spotted Jeddie, whose blue eyes followed him.
"Afternoon, son." Jeddie nodded in reply. The priest stopped at the far end of his pew. "Mind if I sit?"
"Ah, no, no, Padre. Please, sit."
"'Padre'. You must have been stationed out west." He sat turned toward Jeddie, his arm on the back of the pew in a friendly manner.
"Fort Lyon, Colorado, Padre." Jeddie recognized the familiar Irish accent he heard in the Curry and Heyes households as a boy. The melodic brogue made him home sick.
"You from that area?"
"Kansas, Padre."
"Your family still there?"
Jeddie lowered his head and looked at his hands. So many times he'd been asked that question with the painful reply that he'd arrived on a pat answer to get it over quickly. All these years later and it still hurt to say the words.
"They were killed in the Border Wars. Got no family left 'cept one cousin."
"I'm very sorry, son." He bowed his head, closed his eyes briefly, then did the thing with his hands that they do.
"What's the name, soldier?"
"Curry. Jedediah."
"Ah. Catholic."
"No, Padre. I'm a Kansan."
The priest recognized the signs of indoctrination at a young age. "Who took you in, if you don't mind me asking personal questions."
"No, it's not a problem, Padre. We got sent to the Valparaiso Home for Waywards. No orphanages around then."
"You and your cousin." A nod by Jeddie. "Where is he now?"
"He might be in Texas but I don't really know, Padre. Haven't seen him since I joined up over two years ago. We used to be together all the time but now..." Jeddie's chin went to his chest, his eyes shut tight to keep in the tears. He felt the priest's hand on his shoulder.
"Want to talk?" A nod by the wavy haired young soldier. "Come with me to the rectory where we can talk in privacy."
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So that's a rectory. Huh. Jeddie looked back on the brick building next to the church, the place where priests live. He always wondered where.
He looked up at the blue sky as he walked past the stores and offices. Strange he hadn't really noticed the weather these last two weeks. Two weeks of agonizing, trying to put his life back together after Hannie's letter had exploded on opening.
He was at peace now. He knew he could never turn his back on his cousin, no matter what happened, no matter what he got into. Just as Hannie would always be there for him, no matter what.
Father O'Flaherty had helped him see that, from his own experience with a brother who was wanted by the English for crimes against their queen, Victoria, when no Irishman ever took an oath to any English monarch!
Father O'Flaherty loved his brother still, as he knew Jeddie would always love his cousin Hannie as a brother.
The Padre was right. He and Hannie would always, always be cousins, best friends, brothers.
Jeddie glanced in a pharmacy display window spotting stationery for sale. He'd write Hannie now and mail it right from the Philadelphia post office on the corner!
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"If you're gonna be a Texas cattle baron's drover, don't you think it's high time you were in Texas?" Jenny looked across at Heyes sitting down to her Blackjack table, her sparkling eyes and suppressed smile belying her words.
"Just gotta give him time, Jenny. He'll write. I want just one letter from him before I leave." Just one, please, Jeddie.
"You and Brigid finish up in the stable?" Jenny turned her face aside, eyeing Heyes with a knowing smile, her hands automatically shuffling cards. "Them two horses and their hay seem to need a lot of tending to, the past month or so."
Heyes set his hat back on his head leaving seductive dark strands caressing his forehead. "Yeah, they're gettin' an attitude what with all our attention." With his hand still on the brim, he gifted Jenny with a twinkling wink.
"Maybe it's time you two gave them a break? Don't want to hitch a spoiled horse to my buggy and have it head back inside the stable for, lord knows what!"
"I'm sure the Lord and everyone in here knows what, Jenny." Being a man never gave Heyes cause for concern.
"Hmph!" Jenny feigned indignation, Heyes grinning at her show.
"Well, it just so happens, while you were laboring away in the stable, the mail arrived and in it was a letter..." Jenny reached down into her blouse toward the small envelope. "...from a PFC J. Cur..."
"From Jeddie!" Heyes swiftly reached across the table and snatched the envelope from it's storage space.
"Excuse me, Jenny!" He raced up the staircase, the slamming door heard by all downstairs indicating he'd entered his room.
"If not for my Billie..." Jenny downed the glass of whiskey in one swallow.
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He walked three times around his room patting the envelope against his thigh. It was time to face Jeddie. He sat down on the bed, opened the envelope, held his breath, and read.
Dear Hannie,
You got nothing to explain to me. I know you better than anyone and I know your a good man. We are so far apart but that is only in miles. And that will end next spring and we will ride together again, me and you, free to ride the west.
I write this in the very post office of Philadelphia with paper I just bought. Just so I can say this to you.
You done more for me all my life that I can't ever repay and you keep doing for me. Even if I am a burden.
Hannie, I hope you know deep down in your heart that I will always love you as my best cousin, my best friend, my big brother.
Mo bhuanchara. My Grandda Curry said.
Good bye for this letter.
Your cousin and brother,
Jeddie
Heyes wiped at his eyes and let out a sigh of relief. "Jeddie. Oh, Jeddie."
He read the letter again, then laid his hands on his thighs, smiling down at the paper. Thank you, God, for Jeddie.
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They were in control, cascading down the steel tunnel, an oar on each side, each knowing by instinct what the other was doing, working together to keep afloat, warning the other to avoid an overhanging steel protrusion, when they blasted through the end, landing safely in the valley paradise. Heyes watched Jeddie's expression as he first looked over the diamonds and gems laid before them, his tip of the hat to Abe Lincoln and the never-ending basket of greenbacks. The toothy grin from ear to ear said all Heyes needed to know.
"There's more! C'mon!" Heyes guided his cousin who followed without reservation.
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mo bhuanchara, Irish, "my forever friend".