WINTER'S REFUGE

by Kattayl

Every author writes a Curry and Heyes prison story. This is mine.

21. Winter's Refuge Chapter 21

Winter's Refuge

Chapter 21

Jed

I'm sure now that Dr. Arden is playin' some mind games with Heyes. He is subtle about it, though, and I understand he wants to win Heyes' trust again. He probably does this with most of his patients. Heyes, before prison, would have picked this up immediately. Now he only picked up Dr. Arden's bigger mistakes, like lyin' about the oil and lights. Dr. Arden's words today sounded rehearsed and Heyes fell right into them. I think the doctor had Heyes sent to the kitchen for revenge for catching him lyin'. Heyes told us he told Arden about the man who cut himself in the kitchen and went to solitary. He did nothing to get Heyes out of that situation until he could announce the move back to the broom factory in front of us. And he got the reaction he wanted out of me. And the appreciation he wanted from Heyes.

There were three books from Heyes waitin' in reception when we were leavin'. When Lom wasn't lookin', I searched through them but no letter. Probably for the better. We don't want someone in the prison to find them letters. I feel bad about not makin' Heyes another lock, but there is no time. Just designin' that first lock took me months.

Lom's train left before mine, so I avoided the saloon and visited the mercantile in Cheyenne. I saw a pretty hat with ribbons and bows in the window and I thought of Chrissy. I went in and when I saw them, I remembered Chrissy at Devil's Hole. She wore a tan cowboy hat, no fluffy female hat. There was a plain straw hat in the back with a yellow checked ribbon. I bought her that one. And rememberin' how much she liked the ribbon I had bought before; I found a green one that matched her eyes. I wonder if our child has her eyes. I have come to accept the child as mine no matter who the father is.

ASJ*****ASJ

Just past the blacksmith shop, Juan met me at the new gate. I could see Chrissy watchin' for me on the porch and Luke asleep in one of the rockers. But havin' Juan meet me here made me nervous; something must be wrong.

"Welcome home, Mr. Curry," he said as he opened the gate.

"Juan, everythin' okay?" Something had happened. "Chrissy?" I know my voice was anxious, but I couldn't help it.

"Chrissy's fine. Everything's fine. Just wanted to talk to you in private for a minute."

I felt my heart relax. "Let's walk to the house and talk."

Well, sir…Mr. Curry, my older brother Rudy is coming here for a visit in a couple of weeks and we was wondering if he can work here."

"Thought Rudy was in college."

"He is in college and getting good grades, but he studied so much he lost his job so he's gonna leave at the end of the term and earn some money before he goes back. He's plans on skipping next term."

He seemed nervous asking me, but we could always use the help. "Sure, Juan, always a lot of work around here, plus room and board so he can save money quick."

"Well…I was hoping that after I teach him the job, I could go home and visit my ma and pa."

I could tell there was somethin' here that he was not tellin' me, but I knew him well enough to know that if it was important, he'd tell me.

"He know about Chrissy?"

"Yeah, I wrote him. He understands." Juan stopped and I stood next to him tryin' to be patient. "My ma wants me home to try to get me to go to college like Rudy. I don't wanna go to college. I want to work with horses." When he had told me, the words rolled out quickly. It was the first confidence he had shared with me. And I thought that there was another reason, I'd seen Juan walking with a pretty girl in Three Birds.

"Well, it's your decision whether you go to college but show your ma the respect to listen to her before you decide. She's a fine lady and wants the best for her sons." I told him just what I felt. I learned the decisions you make shape your life and your future.

"Thank you, Mr. Curry. I'll listen but I think my mind is made up."

"When's Rudy comin'?"

"Couple of weeks, I guess. He just said after exams."

I thought of somethin'. "Can your brother cook?"

Juan smiled. Luke had told him about our picnic food. "If not, I'll teach him before I leave. You know Miss Chrissy never had to cook anything ever. My ma cooked for all of them."

As we got to the porch, Juan kept leadin' Winter's Glory to the stables while I took my bag to the porch.

"Hi Chrissy! I'm back just like I said."

"Books?"

I took the three books out and handed them to her. "No notes, I looked. But I have a present."

Her eyes sparkled, "Present?"

I had been hiding the hat behind my back. Now I gave it to her and the green ribbon. He plopped the hat on her head, happily. "Good hat. Good present!"

Then she took the books and headed for her room.

HEYES

JOURNAL ENTRY: The Kid and Lom came for a visit yesterday. The Kid is keeping track of the days until I'm out of here, but it sounds like the accounting books are not in good shape. I am reading the books he gave me on business accounting. I am learning a lot. I am back making brooms. I am very grateful to Dr. Arden that he listened to me and got me transferred out of kitchen work. It is good to know he is on my side. After working in the kitchen, I am glad to be working in the broom factory. He's a good man and my friend in here. I need friends. The Kid is my friend too, but he gets drunk and gets silly. I am not there to watch his back, so I worry about him. END

I write in the journal Lom gave me each time I visit Dr. Arden. At first, I thought that the privacy of my journal was going to be respected. That's what the doctor told me. I write in it in Dr. Arden's office since pens and pencils are no longer allowed in cells. They can be made into weapons. But he doesn't know I have one of the pencils Lom gave me with the journal in my cell, hidden in my pile of books. The doctor makes a show of locking my journal in his desk when I leave. But he's read it. I laid a trap for him, leaving some string in the journal so it would fall out if someone opened it. I did it twice. Both times the string was gone. I still write in my journal each time I have a visit with Dr. Arden, but only things I think he would like to read. He seems real interested in the Kid, so I make up things about him. Not all of them are true. In the back of the journal, I am making a surprise for the Kid.

JED

Heyes did leave us a message in the books. Chrissy found the page number ninety-eight circled in pencil. Like me, maybe he's afraid that someone might find the letters. This little circle meant he knew how much time was left.

That afternoon, I left Juan with Chrissy groomin' the horses and rode into Three Birds. I wanted to see if the last set of hinges had sold and pick up the mail. I had an order of some specialty metals comin' in also. I left my wagon in the back and walked around to the front entrance. Right there in the front window for all to see was a dime novel display. "Kid Curry, the Hero of Mammoth Lakes" was starin' back at me. On the cover was a drawin' that looks nothin' like me wearin' a double holster and holdin' a fancy gun in each hand with two women and four little children hidin' in back of me.

I stomped through the front door and reached in and grabbed one of the books. I walked to the front of the store and threw one on the counter in front of Jeff Birde, the man I thought was becomin' my friend. "What's this?"

He smiled and picked up the book. "Aunt Beverly found them in Denver and bought a dozen. They're sellin' fast. Yours is complimentary."

I was havin' trouble bein' civil to this man. "Please, Jeff, take them down."

"Why? People love them. I'm about to order more of them."

"NO!" I picked up the book and slammed it back down on the counter. I glared at him as if he was on the other end of a gunfight, forgettin' he was my friend.

"Jed, what's the matter?"

His voice and the innocence in his tone started to give me control and I swallowed the sudden anger. I walked to the window and picked up the last four copies. "I'm sorry, Jeff. I'm tryin' hard to fit in, as your Uncle Frank says, as Jed the blacksmith, not Jed 'Kid' Curry. I want us to fit in. I'll buy all these."

Jeff smiled and I remembered I liked this easy-goin' man. "Okay I'll add them to your account." He held out his hand. "I'm proud to know Jed the blacksmith, but I think the whole town is curious about Kid Curry."

Before I could shake his hand, I heard another voice behind me. "I thought we might have a gunfight over those books a minute ago." Sheriff Birde stood about ten feet behind me.

I shook Jeff's hand and my head. I realized how I had sounded. I needed to keep a stronger grip on my feelin's, my temper. You are strong and in control I reminded myself. "Tryin' to lose Kid Curry for good, but he keeps rearin' his head."

The sheriff's voice behind me was friendly but firm. "You can't just lose your history; it's part of you. Accept it as part of you and add a new part, Jed the blacksmith."

Jeff handed me the books wrapped in brown paper. "Oh, I almost forgot, sold those last two sets of hinges. Man would have taken more if I had them." He handed me an envelope of money. "Any idea when you'll make more?"

Sheriff Birde had come up and now he put his hand on my shoulder from the back. I jumped and turned quickly at the unwelcome touch, almost reachin' for my gun. I knew my face was angry by the look on his face, but he didn't back away.

"Easy, son," he said as he again reached out and he deliberately put his hand on the front of my shoulder now. "You're among friends here." His voice was calm, but his anxious eyes never left mine.

I looked at his hand on my shoulder, but he left it restin' there. He looked me in the eyes and didn't back down. "Come on down to the office and have a cup of coffee."

I turned back to Jeff and smiled and gave him my hand, again. "Sorry, Jeff." I started to walk with the sheriff, but turned back around and with a grin said, "Just don't order any more of them books….please."

Sheriff Birde didn't say much in his office but I knew why he had invited me there. I had almost lost control, probably did lose it.. He's been a mentor to me and a friend. Right now he knew I just needed time to manage my emotions. I sipped the coffee and focused on the wanted posters on his wall. The McWinters brothers, except Luke, were prominent there, five thousand dollars was offered on each.

I had regained control by then and guilt came with it. I resolved to be stronger, strong enough to stay in control and always take care of my family.

ASJ*****ASJ

There was a stack of letters waitin' for me and two telegrams. One of them was from Lom, just sayin' so far all was well with Heyes. The other telegram was from a Mr. William John Knight in New Jersey wantin' to breed his papered mares, Princess and Lady, with our Fall's Legend. He must have a lot of money, I thought, as he sent a long telegram. He said he only wanted the best and that was Fall's Legend so our ranch it was. He didn't ask, just said he'd arrive in two weeks.

We sat at the table and Juan opened the letters while I served up bowls of mediocre chicken stew. I sat the plate of rolls in the center of the table. When I sat down and picked up my spoon, Chrissy said a definite, "NO", that stopped my spoon before it reached my mouth. When she had our attention, she folded her hands and said, "Bless."

Surprised, Juan and I said, "Amen" together.

"Mr. Curry, we received five times the letters for stud services as normal. Most of them mention Jed 'Kid' Curry's ranch." Juan looked up from his stew.

"KID Curry?"

"Think it's bringing in a lot of business," Juan said pragmatically, another word Heyes would be proud I was usin'.

I dropped the subject. I'd had enough of the Kid today, especially after what happened in the mercantile.

"Oh, here's a letter from my parents saying they referred William Knight to us for stud services because a friend of his told him that Fall's Legend was the best. I don't have a letter from him, though."

I moved the papers on the table around. "He sent a telegram. He says money ain't an object, so we'll charge him full price and he won't pay in chickens."

We laughed. Receivin' chickens in payment had become a joke to us. Our chicken coop was so full that we gave some to the Trayce family down the road. They had eight kids and reminded me of home and Kansas. We also ate a lot of fried chicken and chicken stew.

"I'll give you a return telegram for you to send tomorrow when you go into town. I'd like to know how William Knight of New Jersey found out about us."

HEYES

JOURNAL ENTRY: I have been concentrating on making my brooms and they have all been good. I am thankful for Dr. Arden getting me out of that hot kitchen and back to the broom factory. He really is on my side as he says. Told him again that I think in complete fluid sentences, but the words get stuck when I try to talk. I write in sentences too. He said we will keep working on that. I am sure he can cure me. He's a good doctor, not like Dr. Thompson. I wonder what happened to him. I started a journal when I was at the Home. We each got one for our only Christmas present. I liked writing in it but didn't get too far. It was so cold that winter we burned everything we could, including all the journals. This one won't be burnt. END

The Kid and Lom are coming today so I won't get to write in my journal. I have been good and eating the slop they feed us. Now that I've worked in the kitchen, I have even less appetite for the food. I showed Dr. Arden my drawing for the Kid. He carefully cut the page out of my journal for me. I'm not allowed near scissors. Then he locked my journal in his drawer. I left the three books for the Kid to take on his desk.

LOM

I had telegrammed the Kid that my train was running twenty minutes late. If I didn't see him on the platform, I would figure he went on ahead and would meet him at the prison. But he was there, pacing, when I disembarked and again had already rented the horses. I knew he found the Wyoming Territorial Prison daunting no matter how much he tried to hide it.

When we rode, he told me about Rudy coming so Juan could go home. He remembered the whole Ortiz family fondly, but they blamed him and Heyes for Chrissy going to prison. I could see he felt guilty about that too. He had established a good working relationship with Juan, united in their common cause to help Chrissy. But with Rudy, he'd have to start all over. And he admitted to me he was in awe of Rudy's college education. I didn't have any words of advice for him so just said it would all work out.

Then he told me about all the requests for stud service they were receiving, especially about a Mr. Knight who was on his way with his horses from New Jersey. There was something else he wasn't saying, but he was holding it close. It was probably something he needed to talk about, but I have patience. I won't push. He's not as fragile as Chrissy, but he's not whole yet. Maybe he'll tell me later because now the prison is in sight. The Kid changes this last part of the ride each time. He fights the demons of fear that I see come over him. When he walks through those prison doors, the fears are well controlled, and he appears confident to everyone who doesn't know him well.

Dr. Arden is alone in his office when we get there. I don't know what I think of him. I think he likes to feel superior, and he can do that working with prisoners. He is good at manipulation, and he enjoys it. I'm alright with that as long as in the end it helps Heyes.

"Mr. Curry, Mr. Trevors, welcome. I trust you had a good trip."

The Kid hides his fear well. I can see it, but I don't know if anyone other than Heyes also can.

"Hello, Doctor. How's Heyes?" The Kid doesn't use many words in here. I think he's afraid he may say something that Arden will use against his partner.

But today the doctor doesn't challenge him. "Heyes has done well this week making brooms. He hasn't been in any trouble."

We heard the noises in the hallway as the shackles fall to the floor. The door opens and Heyes walks in. The Kid stands up and gives him a bear hug twirling him around. "Heyes, you've gained weight," he said happily.

Heyes grinned. "Eat slop…gain…gain…weight."

"Didn't you get the box I left for you last time?"

"Good …co-cookies and…" Heyes stopped talking, trying to force his words to escape their prison. "Cheese…" The next word couldn't come so he rubbed his stomach.

"Left you more of the same today. And some cake I bought at the Three Birds." I wondered if the Kid had slipped saying the name of the diner, but Heyes didn't even seem to notice. I would ask the Kid later if Heyes knew where the ranch was located.

I noticed that Dr. Arden preferred it when he controlled the direction of the conversation. "I wanted to let you all know that Dr. Thompson has lost his medical license. It was in jeopardy when he was hired here. This was his last chance and he thought he would take the reward on the men at Devil's Hole and disappear somewhere."

Heyes just nodded but I thought I saw a gleam in his eyes, like a plan came together.

Dr. Arden continued, "Heyes has been writing in that journal you gave him, Mr. Trevors. That was a good idea."

I nodded but didn't really know how to answer that. I was watching Heyes closely.

Heyes responded quickly. He seems to want to please the doctor lately. "Journal…day and…night…night…day."

"Well, he writes in it when he's in here so not really at night," Dr. Arden corrected him.

But I had caught the words and I'm sure the Kid did, too. I had figured them out one time I traveled with the boys. 'Day and night and night and day' meant follow my lead and don't be surprised by what I say. Did he mean to say those words or were they just a remembered old habit?

Heyes hit the Kid on the knee. "No…no one…burn this… like…Home for…heat."

"That's right," the Kid replied.

Heyes slapped his hand on the doctor's desk then pointed at the drawer on the right.

"Heyes, use your words," the doctor ordered, and I wondered at the harshness in his voice.

Sighing, Heyes closed his eyes. "Pl…Please…paper." He opened his eyes looking exhausted.

"Good, remember to always use words. I've heard you used to be able to spin words for your use eloquently." It sounded like an insult to me, but Heyes looked down meekly, nodding.

Standing, the doctor handed him a paper that had been in the drawer. "I'll leave you to your private visit. I have work to do." He turned abruptly and left through the private door.

Heyes held his hand out as the Kid was about to speak. He motioned to me to open the door. I did quickly and found the doctor standing there.

"I forgot something in my desk," he declared brushing quickly by me. "Continue your visit." He left again and this time we heard footsteps walking away down the hall.

Heyes had already motioned for the Kid to turn around, so I turned my chair away from him too.

"Heyes?" the Kid asked a hundred questions with one word. "He lie to you, again?"

"Don't trust him…fully." I had to strain to hear Heyes' whispers. "He likes credit …and secrets."

"So, you're givin' him both in your journal," the Kid stated.

I was always amazed at how well these two understood each other. "He reads your private journal? When I gave it to you, he said no one would read it." I was upset with myself that I had believed the doctor without question.

"Tested…him. Three times. Want to know about Dr. …Thompson was third test." Heyes was speaking in longer sentences but still had trouble with the words.

"Want me to say something to the governor?" I asked.

Heyes shook his head. "No. Good man, just big ego."

I laughed but the Kid was quiet. "Heyes, is this what I think it is?"

"Drawing of a new lock to make. Not… now. Too… b-busy… now."

The Kid had turned around while Heyes was speaking and immediately the words were stuck again.

"Come here. Show me. I don't see any keyholes," the Kid said.

And when Dr. Arden returned ten minutes later, the drawing was on the desk and the two heads side by side almost touching examining the fine points of the drawing.

"And the third keyhole requires the first key to be in the lock and the second one out." The Kid was tracing it with his finger.

"Y-yes…Good?"

"Very good. Eighty-four ways to go wrong and only one way to open it," the Kid answered.

I caught it. Eighty-four days left. It was a game now between the two of them to play with the doctor, to talk and mean something different. I would warn the Kid on the way home that this was a dangerous game to play right now.

At the doctor's entrance, I stood up to leave, touching the Kid gently on the shoulder. He picked up the paper and gave Heyes a shoulder hug. "Be good. I'll see you in two weeks."

"Partners?" Heyes asked the inevitable question.

"Always."

JED

The visit with Heyes was almost enjoyable until Lom reminded me sternly on the ride to Cheyenne that playin' games with the doctor was dangerous for Heyes. When I thought about it, I agreed. I have to figure a way to tell Heyes the same thing…just as sternly.

The lock he designed is beautiful, intricate and tricky. It is like a well thought out Hannibal Heyes plan. And like those plans, it is something that can be accomplished with enough time and energy. I have no time right now and little extra energy. In our same room in Cheyenne, I flipped through the books, but found no letters and page eighty-four was not circled. Disappointed, I threw them into my travelin' bag. As always, I went to sleep early while Lom went down for a drink and a few games of poker. He's worried about something. Well, something 'sides Heyes and Chrissy and me, I think. He didn't eat all of his sandwich and I know for sure he hasn't eaten since we left the train depot this mornin'. I stopped and bought Chrissy a pair of white gloves. I noticed the other ladies in church wore them.

Chrissy was waitin' for me on the porch alone and she wasn't starin' down the road lookin' for me she was readin'. I missed her watchin' for me. It was nice to be missed at home. Juan met me at the porch steps and took Winter's Glory. He was an excellent horse and seemed to be able to sense my moods.

"Hi Chrissy!" I said in a conversational tone so as not to scare her. There's another long word I learned from books.

Chrissy looked up. I thought she greeted me with her eyes. At least I want to believe she did. "Present? Books?"

"Yes, darlin', I got both for you." I'd noticed that the stack of books in the living room was now linin' the walls of her bedroom as if the floor were a bookcase.

I set my bag on the kitchen table and took out the books. "No letter and eighty-four's not circled." I told her, thinkin' she'd be sad.

"Puzzle," she answered. She sat down at the table and began examinin' the books carefully.

'Chrissy." I held out the gloves and a small bag of peppermint candy. She stared at both. "For you," I added.

She was unmovin' for at least a minute, processing my actions, then said, "Thank you, sir," as she took both. She looked into the bag and seemed surprised to see candy.

"It's Jed, not sir," I repeated my mantra to her.

Tryin' a candy, she held one out to me, too. When I went to take it, she moved and popped it in my mouth. I hadn't had a candy in years. It tasted sweet, very sweet, almost too sweet and I think Chrissy was experiencin' the same thing. She laid the bag on the table and picked up the gloves, strokin' them slowly.

ASJ*****ASJ

We had two more mares comin' to the ranch this week and the owner was arrivin' with them. Usually, the horses were sent with the foreman or a ranch hand, but Mr. William J. Knight was an Easterner from someplace called New Jersey. From his frequent telegrams, he knew nothin' about horses or ranchin'. But he had money and a romantic notion of the west and life here. Some of his notions about the west I agreed with, some I didn't.

He and his two mares had taken the train to Bridgeport, where he'd rented a wagon. He never thought to ask if there was a place for him to stay here. He just assumed there was. He'd been told by a friend that Winter's Refuge had the best stud horses, but the one he wanted, Fall's Legend, was here in Nebraska. So, he came here. Mr. Knight, with a K, had to have the best.

When he pulled up our road, Chrissy and I were still at the blacksmith shop. He drove right by, but I figured out who he was. He came a day early. Stoppin' at the gate, he appeared to be lookin' for a bell of some kind. Finding nothin', he got down and opened the gate and drove through, leavin' the gate open behind him. Juan had, thankfully, already prepared the stalls for the new mares and arranged the matin' corral so Fall's Legend and the mares, Lady and Princess, had everythin' they needed for success…except privacy.

Juan greeted them and showed Mr. Knight where the mares were stayin' and introduced him to Fall's Legend. Chrissy's eyes followed him up the hill until Juan met him. When she saw me headin' up to them, she pulled me back.

"Chrissy?"

"Dirty!" She pulled the bandana from my head with two fingers as if it was disgustin'. She shook it and threw it on the back table. "Wash," she told me, pointin' to the water basin.

I smiled that she was thinkin' for herself. I could see sparks of the woman she was and would become again. I splashed water on my face, then realized I had been workin' without my gloves and the black from my hands had come off in the water. It was probably all over my face. Sighin', I reached for a towel and realized that Chrissy was laughin' at me.

"Jed, very dirty."

I stopped and looked at her before smilin' so big it hurt! I wanted to pick her up and spin her around but didn't. "Jed. You called me Jed."

She stopped laughin' and grew serious. But she was still engaged in the conversation, she hadn't retreated. Pointin' at herself, she said, "Chrissy, darling." Then she pointed at me and said, "Jed, not sir."

"Yes!" I went to hug her, then pulled back when her eyes grew big, even though she didn't flinch back. I was goin' to say more but Juan was headin' down the road to us wavin' his hat widely. Chrissy dumped the water basin, swirled some water in it and filled it again.

"Hands first," she ordered.

I grabbed the Borax soap and started to quickly scrub my hands. By the time Juan was near us, they were finished, and I had washed my face and ran my clean hands through my hair. It had grown some in the time since I left prison but was still short. Short was easier for a blacksmith.

"Mr. Curry," Juan called as soon as he was near. "Mr. Knight thinks he is stayin' in the ranch house. He's moved his bags to Heyes' room."

Surprised, no words came to me. I looked at Juan quizzically.

"Mr. Curry, did you hear me?"

"Yes, sorry, was tryin' to think what to do. Any suggestions?"

The frustrated look Juan gave me in response, was my answer.

Mr. Knight met us on the front porch. "Your guest room is lacking in basic amenities. I am assuming you are Mr. Kid Curry?"

"Mr. Knight," I tried to calm my emotions and smile. As Heyes would tell me, this is a payin' customer, paying in money not chickens. "Nice to see you. Juan said your mares are magnificent."

"Yes, Lady and Princess are my pride and joy, and their space here looks comfortable. Fall's Legend looks like everything I have been led to believe. He will make special babies."

He turned and went into the house. I smelled the stew Juan had simmerin' for lunch.

"What is that smell?" Our guest sniffed and got an unpleasant look on his face.

"Lunch. Smells like beef stew. Would you care to join us?"

"Is that the only choice for lunch?" His voice was disgusted. His tone suggested he wanted someone to wait on him.

"Well, near the hotel you're stayin' in at Three Birds, there's a serviceable diner next door."

"But I am stayin' here with my girls."

"We ain't set up for guests, Mr. Knight, just horses."

"I wanted to watch the whole process," he muttered. I weren't sure if he was talkin' to me or himself, so I moved to the kitchen and got a bowl of stew and grabbed a roll as Juan was takin' them out of the oven.

Mr. Knight was built like he could have been a westerner, but he was soft. He was dressed like he could have been a westerner, but his clothes were new and expensive. "Guess it'll be stew for lunch then like a real ranch hand," he said, as he headed to the table to sit down.

Before he got there I said, "Clean bowls are on the first shelf. Use anyone 'cept the one with the flowers." I wasn't about to start waitin' on him no matter how much he was payin' us in stud fees. I didn't need more aggravation. We had both been watchin' the door as Chrissy came in to see her reaction to our guest. She ignored him, got her bowl with flowers, filled it with stew and sat down without seemin' to notice him.

"New ladies settled?" I asked Juan as we ate.

"All settled. Princess is in the breeding pasture with Fall's Legend," he answered. Mr. Knight has assured us that his mares would arrive ready to breed and would not be staying the twenty-one plus days that we usually offer. And he was right, both were ready and receptive on arrival. I don't know how he ever traveled with two mares together in season.

"SHE'S WHAT?" McKnight jumped to his feet; I thought he was pretty athletic for a soft easterner.

"Princess is with Fall's Legend," I repeated what Juan had said.

"But I am here to monitor…ah…ah…things." He grabbed his bowl and spoon, stuck the spoon in his stew, added his roll on top and headed out the kitchen door. "I want to watch everything."

Juan shared my deep laugh as we moved together to look out the kitchen windows. "Princess and Legend were getting along well when I left. Might already be done."

We could see the horses in the small corral. Legend had understood his job and I agreed with Juan that they might be done for now. We would put them together three more times in the next three days.

Juan pointed to the far fence. Mr. Knight was balancin' on the bottom fence beam leanin' far over the top rail encouragin' the horses while shovelin' spoon after spoon of beef stew into his own mouth. The result was messy. I was glad he was outside.

I watched Mr. Knight carefully. I didn't want him goin' into the corral and botherin' the horses. Some horses need more quiet than others. And I was afraid he would think nothing of leavin' the corral gate wide open as he had done comin' up.

Juan went out and took Princess back to her luxury stall and brought out Lady. Our tall, muscular stallion covered her quickly while Mr. Knight watched intensely.

Mr. Knight finally stepped down off the fence. Comin' into the house, he studied me. I knew that this was a man used to gettin' his way. "I would like to rent your spare bedroom for the time we are here."

As I started to protest, he raised his hand to stop me. 'I understand now that you are not set up for guests although I don't understand why. Here's what I am proposing. I will pay you rent for the use of the room, if you clear the few miscellaneous items out of it."

I shook my head, but he continued speakin'. "And I will do all the cooking, three meals a day, while I am here. I will even pay for the food, if someone will drive me into this Three Birds."

My stomach growled loudly at his words. "Can you really cook?"

"Indeed. I have been to the finest cooking schools in New York and Europe." When he saw me waverin' he added, "I will even teach you how to cook some things, including beef stew."

If he was cookin', Juan would have more free time with the ranch. Chrissy had never really cooked in her life, and this wasn't the time for her to start.

"Mr. Knight, I need to ask Chrissy first." She hadn't protested or been afraid of him at the table but watched his movements constantly.

"Is she all right?"

"Yes, she's perfect and gettin' better," I answered him. Sittin' next to her, I looked forward not at her. "Chrissy, darlin'." I started usin' the name she had given herself earlier in the shop. "Mr. Knight may stay with us in Heyes' room for a few days. Are you okay with that?"

"Key?"

"Chrissy, Mr. Knight may stay with us in Heyes' room for a few days. Are you okay with that?" I repeated.

She stood up and walked toward the hall, then looked back to see if I was followin'. She stopped outside her closed door. "Key?" she asked again, and I understood.

"Yes, darlin', there's a key to your room in the desk in the main room. You may keep it as yours."

"Knight, stay." She stood up, took the book she had been lookin' through and headed for the stable. I knew she would read to our pregnant mares and think about the change to her routine that Knight would bring.

Later that night, she brought one of the books Heyes had sent out to me as I sat at the kitchen table doin' nothin' but gettin' the records more confused.

"Found," she said.

"Found what?"

She opened the book on top of the papers I had spread out on the table. On page 44, the second of the fours was circled. She flipped the pages. On page 88, the first eight was circled.

"Found. Puzzle."

"You sure did, darling. You sure did."

ASJ*****ASJ

Knight was, true to his braggin', a good cook. He was an even better baker. He and his two mares left for home a day before I went back to Cheyenne. I smiled thinkin' of the box of goodies I had for Heyes this time, all wrapped up tight. First, there was half an apple pie. If there is a heaven, this is the apple pie you will eat there. William, as we came to call Mr. Knight, also made an excellent chocolate cake and half of it was included in the box along with an assortment of cookies, scones and lemon turnovers. If Heyes didn't gain weight from eatin' all this, he never will.

I had a sad but fond farewell to Luke before I left. He left the day before I left for Cheyenne on his journey to California. Chrissy led him to the barn and pointed to the horses. We understood that she wanted him to choose one but he declined. He went and stood side by side with her like he'd seen me do.

"Chrissy, I want to say goodbye."

She stood still staring at the horse. We knew she was processing the information in her own way.

"Stay. Luke free man."

"Yes, I am. Remember I'm going to California to continue my journey to become a priest."

"Father Patrick. Friend?" Chrissy asked. "Luke stay free man?"

"Yes, Chrissy. I value my freedom."

"Horse?"

"No, I'm taking the train and I'll have no need of a horse at the monastery in California." They were still standing side by side, but Luke had turned slightly so he could see her face.

"Money?"

"No, I'm good. Matt gave me more money than I'll spend in five years. I'll donate what's left to wherever it can do the most good,"

Chrissy's eyes caught mine and I saw sadness but understanding. Luke saw it too. "Jed will take good care of you, Chrissy. He loves you."

She shut down. We both saw the light of understanding in her eyes dim, then disappear.

"Chrissy?" Luke's voice was panicky. I motioned him to stay where he was.

"Chrissy?" I echoed Luke's question, standing right in front of him. "I do love you."

I saw her understanding. She held up her hand with the small wooden ring. "Jed, promise."

"Yes, Chrissy, I promise to love you forever."

I was afraid she would go inside herself again but she was leading this conversation now.

"Chrissy, promise too. Luke hear me."

I smiled at Chrissy and then at Luke. Chrissy turned to Luke. "Goodbye now. Luke come back."

"If I can."

Then Chrissy surprised us all. "Hug." She said, holding her hands toward Luke.

Luke very gently hugged her and I heard him whisper, "Goodbye, Chrissy. Take care of yourself."

She stepped back and looked at both of us. "Jed take care of Chrissy. Chrissy take care of Jed. The Lord take care of Luke."

ASJ*****ASJ

On the train, I thought back to my last visit. I enjoyed goin' over the lock design that Heyes had done. Sittin' side by side it reminded me of reviewin' final plans for bank jobs on the table in the leader's cabin at Devil's Hole. I was lookin' forward to a pleasant visit and hoped that Heyes had been good for two weeks. That was always the worry. Heyes was unpredictable. He needed to become predictable…and dependable. I watched the scenery go by as we chugged from Nebraska to Wyoming and ate the excellent meatball sandwich that William had prepared yesterday in anticipation of my trip. We didn't tell him where I was goin' and he didn't ask.

HEYES

JOURNAL ENTRY: Something is going on in here, but I don't know what. Dr. Arden looked me in the eyes and asked if I knew what was going on. I answered him honestly. It's hard when my words get caught between my mind and my mouth. I told him I didn't know what was going on. The others don't talk in secret to me. They laugh at the Hannibal Heyes that can't talk. But I told him I had a gut feeling that whatever it was wasn't limited to the broom factory. He nodded when I said 'gut feeling.' Last time I told him I had a gut feeling he didn't believe me. I hope he believes me this time. Whatever it is, I do not want to be involved. I want out of here. I'm being good. And I'm changing to fit into society. Still, I'm going to be vigilant because something is going to happen, and I don't want any part of it. END

Lom

The Kid was in a good mood today when he met my train which, for once, was ten minutes early. As we walked toward the livery to rent horses, people were running everywhere. The livery man knew us by now and shook his head at our approach.

"Sorry, no one's going to the prison today." He met us at the entrance in front of closed doors.

"We have an appointment at two," I told him.

"Well, it's been canceled. Prison's on lockdown. No one in. No one out."

The Kid's good mood was gone, fear gripped him. His body tensed, his hand out of habit went to his gun. His expression was controlled. "What happened?"

"Prisoners rioted. Don't have many details yet. Both roads to the prison are closed to all traffic."

"No way to get there?" the Kid asked.

"That's what the man said." I led the Kid to the hotel, and he stood quietly as I checked us into our usual room. Once the hotel room's door closed behind us, his fists hit the wall together and a small sound almost like a wail escaped him. He stood there fists over his head on the wall, head down for what felt like a long time but probably was less than five minutes.

"Tell me, again, all we know about this," he said as he sat on his bed and stared out the window.

Well, the livery man said the prison's on lockdown 'cause of a prisoner riot. Both roads in are closed. No one gets in or out," I recited.

I saw him nod slightly but his eyes were fixed on the street below.

"The clerk told me it started at about nine this morning. A guard with an injured shoulder was sent into Cheyenne to send a telegram and get US Marshals to help. The guard said it was chaos there. Two guards and four prisoners were dead. Two marshals happened to be here, and they rode out there. He hasn't heard anything else. He's worried; his nephew's a guard there."

The old Kid would have been stealing a horse and heading out there, even if he couldn't get in. He would have pounded on the locked door until his knuckles bled. But the Kid had changed, matured, learned patience. He took off his gun, removed his gun cleaning kit from his bag and started to disassemble and clean his gun.

I'd go down every half hour or so and asked for news. Some US Marshals had arrived by train and rode out to the prison. I asked if I, as a sheriff, could ride out with them, but they said it was too dangerous. I didn't tell the Kid that last part. He was worried enough about Heyes. He cleaned his gun, my gun, and then his gun again.

About two hours had gone by when a knock on our door made us both jump…and fill us with fear about what we were about to hear.

Dr. Arden stood there, pale, a wound over his left eye bandaged haphazardly.

"Dr. Arden? Come in, come in." I opened the door wider.

"Mr. Trevors, Mr. Curry," he said looking lost.

"Sit down, Doctor. Have some water." I poured him some water and put the glass in his hand. "I have something stronger in my bag if you'd like."

He emptied the glass but continued to cradle it in his hands as he sat at the table next to the Kid. He moved his chair to the side as the Kid twirled his clean gun and holstered it.

"Heyes is alive," he said abruptly.

I know I gave a sigh of relief and I saw the Kid relax a bit. I was impressed that the Kid was quiet and didn't grab Arden and demand more information. Alive didn't mean uninjured.

The doctor held out his glass. "Maybe some of the something stronger, please."

He sipped the whiskey and started talking. "I'm going to start at the beginning. Yesterday the warden had heard rumors something was going to happen. I asked Heyes yesterday if he knew anything about it. He told me no one talks to him. They just laugh because he can't speak yet. But he told me he had a gut feeling something was going to happen, and it was going to happen in more than just the broom factory. I believe he was being truthful with me. He wants to get out of here. He's in the infirmary now, but he'll recover. I talked to him, the guards, and other prisoners about what happened. Heyes acquitted himself quite well."

"He had complained to me in our last visit that the new young guard was impatient with his speech. Told him he wasn't saying 'sir' fast enough. I regret it, but I didn't do anything about it. I thought the pressure of speaking faster might help loosen Heyes words. But this morning, the guard asked Heyes something and he got out the "Yes..." and was working on the sir when the guard brought his billy club down on his shoulder and back. Unfortunately, he broke open the healing wound from the shiv. Heyes stumbled off his work chair but continued to look down. He sat back down and resumed work on his broom. There are two entrances to the broom factory, one at each end. Heyes works alone on a long counter about 18 inches from the wall near the back entrance. The counter has sharp, precise corners. Two guards stand by the door near his workbench watching the room. Two more stand at the other door watching the room from the other end.

The doctor took another sip of the whiskey, a longer one this time. He had the Kid's full attention. I couldn't see his eyes, but I'm sure there were blue waves swirling in them.

"The riot must have started near the kitchen. Some prisoners had made weapons out of the dull knives they used. A guard died there almost immediately. Family man, three young boys. The riot was coordinated, planned. Other prisoners also had homemade weapons and turned on their guards. In the broom factory, the riot started on the far side from Heyes. He realized what was happening right away. He yelled, "No!... Stop!... Won't help. No!"

"No one paid him any attention. He was right; they laugh at him, the outlaw who can no longer talk. He didn't advance but watched closely. He saw one of the two guards at the other end of the room fall. As the guards behind him advanced, he motioned the older guard closest to him to hide behind his counter. Heyes stepped close to the end of the counter so the guard would be shielded from the mob's view. He was an experienced guard and understood the situation. There were almost a dozen crudely armed convicts advancing on him. They held a guard in front of them as a shield. The man dove behind the counter and laid quietly. Heyes motioned the younger guard, the one that had hit him earlier, behind the counter too. He hadn't seen his partner go back there. A look of panicked fear took over his features as he looked around wildly. Heyes motioned him behind the counter again. He was ignored again. As the yelling crowd got closer, Heyes yelled, "Look….Behind!" As one, the rioters turned, they saw the door behind them starting to open and moved forward. Heyes took that moment to tackle the young guard and push him down on his partner. But the panicked guard fought back and pushed Heyes into the sharp corner of the counter. The older guard, already hiding behind the counter, put his hand over the young guard's mouth and a finger to his lips to indicate quiet.'

The raging crowd had grown by six or seven men from the other room. Ignoring Heyes as he laid over the counter, they pushed past him and out the door. Gasping for breath, Heyes struggled to the door and locked it from the inside. The younger guard was still paralyzed with fear, but the more experienced guard ran to the other entrance and locked that door, too. Then he went and tended to Heyes. He has at least two damaged ribs, but all the guard could do was make him as comfortable as possible. He took off his own shirt and tried to stop the open shiv wound from bleeding. That's where they were found an hour later. When the US Marshals got that far into the prison and knocked on the broom factory door, the guards were skeptical about who was there. The marshals convinced them who they were and they opened the door. But the US Marshals first saw a convict and pulled Heyes to his feet and put his hands in shackles even though the guards protested. Heyes collapsed from pain. The marshals then thought the guards might be convicts dressed in guard uniforms. The warden and I were following the marshals into each room as it was reclaimed. We identified the guards and we carried Heyes to the infirmary on a makeshift litter. Both guards credit Heyes for saving their life. But from the rough treatment of the marshals, he was gasping for air, struggling to breath."

The Kid was listening intently, leaning forward, hands on his knees.

"It was crazy in the infirmary but I'm a pretty fair medical doctor. I found a quiet office off the main room and had the guards put Heyes on the desk as an examining table. Then I sent them out for a list of medical supplies, including all the pillows they could find. Until the pillow arrived, I supported Heyes in a sitting position while I felt his injured ribs with the other hand. I could gently line up the errant one. I bandaged him tightly and moved him, so the pillows supported him in a sitting position. Those two guards refused to leave his side even when he fell asleep, afraid that the US Marshals might injure him again.

"When the rioting was done, four guards were dead, three more injured. Eleven convicts were killed trying to escape. The warden decreed that all the prisoners be given five lashes, confined to their cells, and on bread and water. It will go on their records as solitary. The leaders will receive ten lashes and go to the dark cells."

The Kid stood suddenly. "Solitary?" He was tense, ready to fight.

"Easy, Mr. Curry. This will not apply to Heyes. He was with two guards who vowed he saved their lives with his actions, and I have his jo…"

Kid had relaxed his stance, but his eyes showed the battle he was fighting for control. "You have his journal? Is that what you were goin' to say?" he challenged.

"Yes, I have his journal and I read the last entry. He had only a gut feeling, like he told me, that something was going to happen. He had no intention of participating in anything. He wants to get out." Dr. Arden's tone was pleading. He looked exhausted.

"Can he have visitors in the infirmary?" The Kid's tone had calmed. Heyes was alive. He was not going to solitary. His pardon was still within reach.

"I'm sorry no, no visitors to the prison at all. I got to get back. There's so much to do. So much to clean up. The dead to bury." He touched the wound on his head. His hand had blood on it when he looked.

"Dr. Arden, is it safe for you to travel with your head wound?" I heard compassion in the Kid's voice.

"Yes, head wounds tend to bleed a lot. Not in a place to worry." He touched the bandage again and looked surprised at the blood.

"Dr. Arden, let me rebandage your head and then sleep in my bed for a while. You look tired."

I already had the small first aid bag I carry out and proceeded to clean and bandage the wound. His eyes were closing before I was done.

"Thank you. I'll just close my eyes for an hour maybe," he mumbled as sleep overcame him quickly.

He talked about his terror during the riots as he slept. He woke suddenly four hours later. Looking around, he tried to place where he was.

"Dr. Arden? How do you feel?" I asked.

He looked at me and the memories of the day came back, all of them. "Mr. Trevors, how long did I sleep?"

"About four hours. The Kid went down and got sandwiches and coffee. Help yourself."

He walked to the table shaking any confusion from his thoughts. "Thank you."

When the Kid returned from a walk to gather information, he found the doctor eating and thankful.

"Mr. Curry, if you look in my bag, you will find the three books Heyes chose to send with you today." The doctor's voice still sounded tired, no weary, even after sleeping.

"Doctor, you can stay and sleep longer if you need to," the Kid offered.

"No. I'll go back and help where I can. I knew that the two of you were coming today and, to tell you the truth, Mr. Curry, I wasn't sure how you would react not knowing Heyes' fate. It would have been a mistake for you to come to the prison."

"You came here for us?" The Kid was touched but wary. He knew that Heyes didn't fully trust this man.

"I knew I had to have my head treated and there was no one available to do it. It was a good excuse to come to town and talk with you."

I watched the Kid process his answer. He still had doubts, but the bottom line was Heyes was going to be okay and had avoided solitary. He picked up the box of goodies he had brought for his cousin. "Would you give this to him? I know it has to be inspected first. Tell him I told him to share it with you."