Winter's Refuge
Chapter Twenty-Eight
JED 'KID' CURRY
In the meeting room, I knew Heyes was overwhelmed starin' at the four imposin' men in suits that held his fate, our fate, in their hands. Between me and Lom, we were supportin' him on each side. If he didn't have us there, he'd have fallen. He almost did when he started to back up at the warden's stern voice, but me and Lom each put an arm behind his back to stop him. When he stepped out of the room in his civilian clothes, he looked even smaller, more fragile.
Once we were outside, Heyes was transfixed, lookin' at the rainbow in the sky. I felt better when that door closed behind us, and it was just me and Heyes and Lom. The same trustee brought around the buggy. When I went down the steps to take the reins, I told him, "Thank you, sir," and held out my hand. He shook it with a wink. Lookin' up the stairs at Heyes, the trustee nodded his head at him. I was surprised at Heyes' reaction. He backed away and stood almost behind Lom with fear on his face.
The trustee went back to work quickly as he always did. Excitement at Heyes' freedom still ran through me. He did it. We did it. But the last thing Heyes wrote weighed heavy on me. We still had six months of parole with conditions ahead of us.
"Come on, rain's threatenin' again," I called out to Heyes and Lom.
Lom started down the steps, but Heyes wasn't followin', so I went to him.
I took Heyes by the arm. I had never seen him this scared. "Come on, partner. Let's go." He started to pull away, but I made him look right at me. "Heyes, we need to leave this place. It feels like it's gonna reach out and grab me, grab us."
It took a minute, but Heyes nodded his head, and patted my arm protectively as we walked down the steps. Lom climbed into the back seat of the buggy so Heyes could sit up front. But Heyes climbed into the back with Lom instead. This was not goin' the way I thought.
When me and Lom had left the railroad camp outside Yuma and I was released, freedom ran through my body. I was joyous and wanted to breathe the air of freedom. I watched from the door of the railcare until I couldn't see that railcamp anymore. Of course, I had little time to think or celebrate because we rushed to save Chrissy.
HEYES
There's a rainbow over the far mountains when we leave the prison, just like Amber, the guard's daughter, drew for me. I can't stop looking at it and the freedom it represents. Lom is waiting on the top step of the prison with me. I'm glad. I don't feel safe. There is so much open space around me. I'm not used to this anymore. I don't feel safe. My world has been small in prison. I want to be indoors, protected by walls but not prison walls. My rainbow started to fade when the trustee, who brought our buggy, nodded at me. I think he's one of the ones that wanted to riot and was mad that I didn't. I felt safer a step behind Lom. I know the Kid is scared too. He said he thinks the prison is gonna swallow us up. I feel it, too. I don't see how anyone could hurt the Kid. He's strong and he's armed. I looked at the buggy that would take me to Cheyenne. I want to sit in the back. There is too much open space in front of me otherwise. It is too easy to get bushwhacked here.
The Kid and Lom are patient. Lom changed and got in the front seat, so I have the back to myself. There is no one in back of me. No one is watching me. It is a freedom I have wanted for so long but now I'm scared.
"Gonna stay the night in Cheyenne, Heyes, and take the train to Bridgeport tomorrow mornin'," the Kid is talkin' quickly. He keeps lookin' back at me and smilin'. He's happy I'm out. How can I tell him how scared I am now that I'm out? "You and me will be sharin' a room, but not a bed," he was explaining. More than ever, I wanted my words. I need them. I want to tease the Kid about sharing a room with him. If I had words, I would say I was used to a private room, but I can't. I am glad we are sharing a room. Cheyenne scares me. There are a lot of people there.
"Would you look at that?" Lom said. But I did not look up.
I hear an ear deafening blast like a lot of guns firing together. We're under attack. I dived on the floor of the buggy, covered my head, and waited for the Kid to drive us to cover. But the buggy kept going. The Kid must have been shot and the horse running free. I lifted my head. I was confused. The Kid was still driving the buggy with Lom smiling beside him. I stayed sitting on the floor. I searched for the gunmen as I felt my heart pounding, the adrenaline flowing through my body.
Lom glanced at me. "Kid, stop." I saw him put his hand on Kid's arm.
"Heyes, you okay? What are you doin' on the floor? It's just thunder." The Kid pulled to the side of the road.
It didn't sound like the thunder I heard from my cell. That was muted, far away. This was here, right here, near us. I still think it is gunfire. I took a look around. I don't see any threats. No flashes of light where the sun bounces off a hidden rifle. But there is little sun out right now. The guns could still be there and I can't see them. I looked at the Kid. The concerned look on his face startled me. He handed the reins to Lom, got out, and climbed in the back with me.
"You gonna stay on the floor or sit on the bench next to me?" he asked. I could hear both seriousness and amusement in his voice.
Lom clicked the horse to a trot.
I found my chalkboard and I got onto the seat next to him. Without looking at him, I wrote, "You can't understand." Everything was overwhelming; the buggy ride was making me sick to my stomach. There still could be someone hiding ready to shoot us. There was too much open space. I didn't know what was expected of me.
It was the first time I heard the Kid raise his voice since he hit me in the jaw. I moved as far away from him on the seat as I could. "What do you mean I can't understand?" he yelled.
Then I remembered. The Kid survived the Yuma prison and a contract of servitude with the railroad. I looked down, embarrassed. I have forgotten a lot of things. There is emptiness when I try to remember some things. Sometimes I still lose more memories. Usually, they come back if I think hard enough. Or I wake up thinking about what I couldn't remember. But some of the memories are gone for good.
"Heyes, why're you lookin' down? Look at me!" He sounded angry. I don't know why but I don't want the Kid to be upset with me. I'll try harder.
"Sorry," I wrote, looking at my board, not him.
"No, I'm the one that's sorry. I forgot how different everything looks after prison."
Another loud blast of gunfire exploded around us. I knelt on the floor of the buggy trying to pull him down with me. He's so strong I could have moved a mountain easier.
"Relax, Heyes, it's thunder. Look over at those mountains."
I hadn't lifted my eyes that high. Looking down, no one would hit me in prison. Looking down was supposed to show respect that I did not feel. All I felt was fear. Slowly, I lifted my head to be even with the Kid's. He pointed in the distance. Struggling against it, I looked up. Panic filled me and I lowered my eyes quickly. I expected Kid to reproach me, but he was quiet. His presence helped me to try again. I kept lifting my eyes even if I couldn't lift my head. I saw mountains in the distance. I know I used to love those mountains, but now they were threatening. Lightning broke over them, a bright light filtered through the gloom of the clouds. A clap of thunder followed. Now I knew that's what I heard-thunder. Something I had heard all my life. Only outside it sounded louder. Now scared me.
"Ain't it beautiful, Heyes," the Kid said with a reverence in his voice. "Looks like freedom to me."
It didn't look like my freedom to me. It seemed ominous. But I nodded my head at the Kid as if I agreed with him. I need him to be on my side. I need his strength, or this new experience wasn't going to be successful, and I would be traveling back to the prison in no time. My fears grew as we got near the city. I could see buildings on the horizon. My last memory of Cheyenne was being escorted, no dragged, out of the court, without even a parting word to the Kid.
I was glad we were riding in a buggy; I know I couldn't sit a horse for this long. When we drove into town, I moved to sit a little closer to the Kid. There were people everywhere, but they weren't paying us any attention. At least I don't think they are. Maybe they are pretending not to look at us. Lom stopped the buggy. The Kid and I got out and Lom said he would take the rig back to the livery.
"Same hotel we always stay at when we come to visit you. Clerk's real nice here. Me and you will share the room we usually get. Lom will be next door." I heard him but my eyes were drawn to the saloon next door. It was loud. I was used to quiet, noise meant punishment. Ignoring the Kid, I looked through the window and saw men drinking, laughing, and playing poker. The noise filled my head and I backed away. I know I used to love saloons, their excitement, their poker, the girls, and the drinkers. But not anymore. It was chaotic and noisy, and I wanted to run in the other direction.
"Come on, Heyes," the Kid was calling me from the entrance to the hotel. "I think the saloon can wait for another visit."
I nodded as if he had talked me out of it. Actually, I don't want to go anywhere near that place. It sent tremors of fear through my body. Too many people, too much noise, too much danger..
Before we entered the hotel lobby, the Kid put some money into my hand. "Can't have you runnin' around broke, partner. We done that too many times in the past."
"Th…th..." I tried to see the word form in my thoughts and push it out, but I could not do it. The Kid ignored my failure.
"You're welcome, Heyes," he said as he walked up to the desk clerk. It was evident that he recognized the Kid.
"Welcome, Mr. Curry. Same room as always?"
"Yes, Johnson. And a single room nearby, if that's possible."
"Yes, of course. Just sign here."
"I'll sign in for us all. Give Mr. Trevors the key to the single room when he arrives."
He tossed me a key to our room. I caught it at the last minute and was proud of myself.
JED 'KID' CURRY
After the livery, Lom went to the diner to get food. When we asked Heyes what he'd like to eat, he waved us off and looked up the stairs to our room. I remember when I got out, I wanted oatmeal, real thick oatmeal. Everything else seemed heavy to me. But Heyes and I never ate the same things anyway. I told Lom to get oatmeal, sandwiches and fresh fruit, hopefully apples. I'll eat my apple first. I remember it has a taste of heaven – not to be taken for granted.
Heyes was waitin' quietly outside our room for me, despite havin' the key. He was starin' down at the floor. I can't tell anymore what's goin' through his head.
"Go ahead, open the door, Heyes. I gave you the key."
He looked at his hand and saw the chalkboard, chalk, the money that I had given him, and the key.
"You have pockets now, partner," I reminded him gently.
Lookin' at me, he slipped the money and the key into one pocket. He took out one piece of chalk and put the box in his other pocket. "Sorry, forgot about pockets," he wrote. I think he was almost grinnin', but something about him made me think he was overwhelmed and hidin' it.
"Don't worry about it. Now would you unlock the door?" I repeated. I had another key but thought it was important he do this for himself. And keep the key so he knew he wasn't locked in anymore.
He handed me the chalkboard and piece of chalk while he dug the key out of his pocket. Very deliberately, he studied the key before usin' it to open the door. Turnin' before enterin', he tried to hand the key to me.
"No, that's yours. Got my own," I told him. "Go on in."
Hesitatin', he looked through the open door, his eyes searchin' each corner of the room. Very purposefully, he took two quick steps into the room. Grabbin' the door, he looked behind it quickly. Noddin' to me, he walked to the far bed and bounced on it as he sat on it.
"Wouldn't you like the bed by the window? You can watch what's goin' on in the street," I asked him. I had slept in the far bed, the one away from the window with the view of the undertaker ever since I'd watched the dead guards' bodies brought in. That scene is still a grim recent memory. I haven't had time to bury it deep yet.
He pointed to the bed he was sittin' on and smiled. He was telling me he wanted that bed. I was just glad that Heyes was here, free, sharin' a room with me. He could have whichever bed he wanted.
I was surprised, but he laid down and was asleep quickly. I put a blanket over him. I thought I was being gentle, but he sat up suddenly struggling against me. "Easy, Heyes."
Abruptly, he looked around the room and then at me. I had put his chalk and board on the table next to his bed. He grabbed it and scribbled something. I squinted at it.
"Heyes, can't read what you wrote."
He smiled then and erased the board and wrote. "Good you're real, room's real. If you were in my mind, you could read my scribble."
I laughed and he did, too. It sounded good. I wish I could hear his voice talkin' to me, too.
He laid down again and this time I covered him while he was still awake. He closed his eyes, but I don't think he fell asleep. I sat in a chair at the table and took out Walden and read until Lom came with the food.
HEYES
The Kid thought he was helping when he put a blanket over me, but it woke me up. Suddenly. I didn't know if I was awake or dreaming. But I laid a trap with my writing on the chalkboard. This room is real. I am out of prison. I am sharing a room with the Kid, and we are going home. Wherever home is. The ranch doesn't even have a name. There is something he's not telling me about this place. But he'll have to 'cause we're going there now.
I laid down again, but I didn't sleep. I listened. I listened to the sounds of the people in the street. I am not just listening to noise but voices. There is no talking in prison. The only words we hear are orders or corrections. Here, people are talking, laughing, yelling. The rain left puddles and I can hear horses and wagons slosh through them. And I can hear children playing. I haven't seen a child in years. I thought the Kid would take out his gun and clean it, but he didn't. I know I can't wear a gun. I can't even touch a gun. I open my eyes, but he doesn't notice. He's reading a book. I haven't seen him read a book since we were in school. He used to like it when I'd read out loud, especially stories by Mark Twain. More about him has changed than his strength. He reads books. He uses long words correctly. I'll have to watch him to see how else he's changed. Prison does that to people.
I hear Lom come in with the food. I hear them talking.
"You told him yet, Kid?" Lom asked.
"No, it's hard to know where to start," the Kid answered. I could hear his hesitation.
"You're running out of time,"
"I know, but I'm not sure what words to use. Heyes is the one with the silver tongue. Not sure how he's going to take it."
There was silence. I heard someone bite into an apple. "How did you take it when I told you?" Lom finally broke the silence.
"That was different. We had to move quickly. With the urgency, I didn't have time to think about anything but gettin' to Colorado."
"You have your own sense of urgency, Kid. He's got to know before you get home."
"I know, I know. He's recoverin' and I don't want this to stop that."
"Kid, you're strong enough for all of you. Patience is the key. I think Heyes is stronger than you think when you're together."
"I hope so. I need my partner back. How are you doing, Lom?"
"I'm healing, but I still get tired quickly." I could tell Lom had stood up. "Gonna get some rest. See you in the morning."
The door opened and closed. Then there was quiet. I opened my eyes to see what was happening. The Kid was standing, hands leaning on the windowsill, looking out the window. I don't know what it was that he needed to tell me, but I vowed to do my best to understand and remain calm. Maybe someone we know had died…or maybe there was no unnamed ranch, and we were going to live in some shack. Or maybe the Kid was sick; prisoners often contracted serious maladies. I didn't care. Whatever it was, we would get through it together.
"Heyes, you awake?"
I decided to open my eyes. I'd rather know what he was going to say than come up with horrid alternatives. "Y…y...yes."
"Come eat. You're too skinny. You'll gain weight now that you have normal food to eat."
He was sitting at the table waiting for me. "Heyes, we need to talk while we eat."
I nodded and went and got my chalkboard. I want my words so desperately, but I just can't speak. The Kid doesn't seem to care.
"You need to tell me something? I see it in your eyes," I wrote. I printed each letter carefully so he could read it.
"Yeah, and it's not easy. Take a half sandwich and eat it."
"Someone's sick? You're sick?" I wrote, but I was nervous about his answer. I forgot about the half a sandwich he told me. I needed the Kid to be strong. I have little strength of my own.
"No, no I'm fine. The burns are healin' good. Would you eat that sandwich?"
I didn't know I was holding my breath waiting for him to tell me he was sick, but I was. He studied me carefully before running his fingers through his light brown curls covering his head.
Jed 'Kid' Curry
"First, I need to tell you what happened to me in Yuma. I fought my way through the first few months. Lom couldn't even get in to see me. Lost all my privileges. Everybody wanted to fight Kid Curry and I tried to accommodate them all."
"Kid has long words now. Heyes has none," Heyes wrote sadly.
"We'll get your silver tongue back, partner. Anyway, after a few months, I remembered we were gonna be model prisoners and thought about what I wanted in life. After six months of good behavior, I got all my privileges back. Figured I needed a real profession, blacksmithin' is a lot safer than poker, there's no cheatin' and no gunplay. Told Lom this when he came and visited me. He weren't pleased with the idea of me signin' myself into slave labor. He was right; it was a hard life, harder than prison. I saw a lot of men die. But when my pardon and amnesty came through, I had a profession and papers to prove it."
I was tryin' to tell him in as few words my story. I wasn't sure if he was listenin' or not. I wanted him to understand; I needed him to understand. No, I needed to tell him. Maybe I'd have to tell him over and over the next few months or years before he understood.
"The other part of my plan was to get as strong as I could, so strong no one would ever hurt me or those I consider family. First part helped with the second."
"Kid strongest of all," he printed carefully, then pointed to the board.
I nodded. "Need that strength more than I ever thought."
Heyes patted me on my knee. "To save Juan and friend from fire?" He showed me what he had wrote.
"Yeah, but Lom told me something when I got out that made strength more important."
He gave me a questioning look. "Heyes, I know I've been procrastinatin' about tellin' you this."
He grabbed my arm. Puttin' his index fingers together, he moved them apart.
I smiled at him. "I know lots of new words. Maybe I can teach you some."
He sighed before he scrawled on the chalkboard. "Stop delaying. Tell me what you need to tell me. I'm thinking the worst."
He mostly looked down, but I needed to see his eyes when I was talkin'. "Look at me." He raised his head but not his eyes.
"Heyes, can you look at me?"
I saw the effort it took him to look me in the eyes but once he did, he seemed to relax. He pointed at me and tried to be stern, "T…t…tal…k."
I smiled. He had spoken a word. "Good job, Heyes. Okay, you remember Winter's Refuge and Chrissy McWinters?" Suddenly, I wondered if I had the right to share her story, even with Heyes. She had a right to her privacy. But if I was goin' to take care of both of them in the same house, he needed to hear this. And bear the guilt that came with knowin'. I hoped I could help him with that; I lived with it every day.
He nodded and took care with what he put on the chalkboard, erasin' some and rewritin' it a couple of times before he turned it around for me to see. "Yes, I asked Lom to take care of her if she needed anything. She there? She still wearing your ring? You still love her?"
"Yes, and yes, but it's a long story. You sure you want to hear it tonight?"
"TELL ME!" The capital letters seemed to yell at me in Heyes' voice.
I thought I could look at him and tell him, but I couldn't. This was takin' a different kind of strength than I had. "Let me get through this and you can ask questions when I'm done, alright?"
He nodded. I had laid my hands on the table. He placed his on top of mine. "Ta…talk."
"You remember Dr. Lewis, the doctor that fixed me up? Chrissy paid him triple and a bonus because I lived. Well, we left when you got that gut feelin' it was time to go. Your gut was right. We headed to Nevada and stayed minin' for almost two months until you needed a drink, a poker game, and a newspaper, if I remember right."
His eyes fell quickly, and I saw the first round of guilt. Lookin' for those things got us captured and we never got any of them. I wasn't going to dwell on that though, but he needed to remember.
"Well, when we left, Dr. Lewis went to the sheriff and claimed the reward on us, partner. He came back two days later with the sheriff and a posse.
HEYES
I smiled, but only to myself. The Kid is serious, very serious, but my gut was right we needed to get out of there. I'd already picked out the place we were going to mine. So, we got away. Never even knew that posse was following us. Missed what the Kid was saying, and I think he knows I wasn't listening. I don't want to make him mad at me. I need him. I missed him.
"Heyes, you listenin' to me?"
I tried to look innocent when I looked up at him, but I can't control what shows on my face anymore.
"You're exasperating! This is important and hard to talk about."
"Sor…sor…" I tried to speak, but he was angry and that was all I could think about, not pushing words out. That and another new word he had never used before. At least not in front of me.
"You're sorry, I know. What was the last you actually heard me say?" His tone had calmed some.
I wrote, "Posse missed us. I did good for us to leave."
I watched him stand and stretch. He was strong. Every muscle in his arm was developed. Dr. Arden said he carried Lom to the infirmary like he was a child. I didn't doubt it.
He sat down in front of me and poured himself a glass of water and drank it. Before, we always had serious talks over whiskey. I didn't see any whiskey in the room. Dr. Arden sometimes put whiskey in my tea to calm me. "Heyes, concentrate on what I'm tellin' you."
I nodded at him and poured myself a glass of water and refilled his glass.
"Listenin'?"
Again, I nodded.
"This is hard to tell you. Don't make me tell it again. When the posse missed catchin' us, they came back and arrested Chrissy McWinters."
I could see the Kid was sad about this, but they probably only held her for a day or two and let her go. Hard for a woman to be in jail, though.
"They charged her with addin' and abettin' us and helpin' us escape. Dr. Lewis was furious he didn't get the reward on us."
First time I thought about that. I wonder who got the reward for capturing us, some marshals, I guess. Can marshals collect bounties, I wondered?
"Heyes I can tell your mind is wanderin', again!" He'd raised his voice. If he was mad, would he hit me? I don't think so. He did hit me in prison.
"HEYES!"
I wrote, "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."
"Not sir, never sir!" he growled.
Then his blue eyes turned dark, and clouds swirled in them. I started shaking. "Sor…so…" My fear stopped my words altogether. I dropped my eyes to the table and waited for my punishment.
But the Kid sat quietly, very quietly and just stared at me, until I was very uncomfortable.
"Heyes, shorter version. You can ask questions later…or tomorrow…or whenever. Chrissy was arrested and went to trial. I had given her Lom's name and she asked him to help her."
I was trying to concentrate but remembered something I wanted to say. I grabbed the chalkboard.
"Heyes, can't you just listen." I could hear the frustration in his voice, but I needed to tell him something. "Write…what is it?
I thought before I wrote to use just a few words. "In prison, I asked Lom to help our friend Christina McWinters if she needed anything." I handed the board to him but looked down quickly, hoping he wasn't mad again.
He read it quietly and I dared to look up.
"So did I, partner. I had the same thought. Turns out she was already in trouble and had reached out to Lom before we each asked him to help her. He figured if I gave her his name, she was important to us. He lied to us, a lie of omission as Gramma Curry taught us. She was already in prison by then."
"P…Pr…" I grabbed the board and wrote in the little empty space at the bottom. "Prison?"
"Colorado Territorial Correctional Facility. She was there before we were even captured."
"NO!" came out without me trying. I started to stand up.
The Kid put his hand on my shoulder to calm me, but I was trying to figure out why he was lying to me. Chrissy couldn't have gone to prison. I knew what happened to women in prison.
The Kid's strong hands each found one of my shoulders and forced me back into my chair. "She went in before we did. Governor signed a pardon and amnesty for her when he signed mine."
It couldn't be. I don't know why he kept lying to me.
"Prison ain't easy for a woman."
I hurriedly erased my board. "Why are you lying to me? We don't lie to each other," I wrote and jammed the board at him.
Sadness filled the Kid's eyes as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table and his head in his hands. I know him. This was deep sadness. What had happened to him in prison that he'd lie to me?
"Ain't lyin, Heyes. You're right. We don't lie to each other. Chrissy had a hard time in there after…" He was about to add something but stopped. "She was abused in every way you can imagine. We found her in a dark cell, beaten, and left to die with poisoned food."
There were tears in the Kid's eyes. He doesn't cry. He's always been strong that way. Now he's even stronger. The tears don't escape his eyes. Maybe part of what he's saying is true.
"Chrissy's at the ranch tryin' to heal. She's afraid of everything, especially men."
No, I thought, that's not Chrissy. She's bossy, a take charge lady, not really afraid of anything. He was lying again. I concentrate to find the grain of truth in his lie.
"She'll probably hide from you. Stay in her room. Don't go in her room. No one goes into her room. After all she's been through, she needs a private place where she feels safe."
I still didn't understand what the Kid was really telling me. He's been sweet on Chrissy since she first rode into Devil's Hole to get her brothers. At Winter's Refuge, she was just as sweet on him. He even made her a ring. Not all my memories exist anymore. The dark cell took most anything I dreamt about and corrupted it, changed it, ruined it. Good memories were changed or are gone completely. Dr. Arden said not to dwell on it. What's gone is gone. We worked on the recurring nightmares that had morphed from good to terrifying. With his help some of the warped ones turned pleasant again. But the ones that are gone were lost. I don't remember much of our time at Winter's Refuge, except the doctor telling me the Kid was dying, to say goodbye. That horror returns almost nightly.
I thought for a moment before I picked up the chalkboard. "So, this conversation is just to tell me to stay out of Chrissy's bedroom?" I wrote.
The Kid's face tightened. Whatever he was thinking, he controlled it well but he couldn't hide how tired he was. "That'll do for now. Let's get some sleep."
The joy he obviously felt when I was released is gone. Maybe he doesn't want to be my parole officer, not be responsible for me. I got to try to be good tomorrow and all the tomorrows ahead. I am vowing to make myself as helpful as I can and, if it's that important to the Kid, I won't go into Chrissy's room.