Winter's Refuge
Chapter Thirty
Heyes
I can see where all the little papers on the table come from now. I don't know how I'll ever match them all up. Last night the Kid said to just work on the books going forward and get the breeding bookings straightened up and scheduled for the next few months. Winter's coming soon and, even though the almanac says it will be mild, not sure if he'll be welcoming any lady mares when it snows so ignored the letters. I watched today and didn't try to interfere at all. But changes need to be made. I understand Chrissy's system now. It is a start, although nothing is dated. I wrote on my chalkboard and suggested she add the date to her log. I don't know what happened. She stopped moving and her eyes were focused on a spot on the wall where there's nothing. I don't know what to do. She's having some sort of attack. Maybe this is why the Kid takes care of her?
I hurried to the door to the forge. The heat in there, even with three sides up, is unbearable. I don't know how he can breathe. I waved my hands from the doorway. I do remember he told me to stay in the back room, but something is wrong with Chrissy. He'll be angry if I don't tell him. Or maybe he'll be angry because I'm disturbing him. I don't want to anger him. I'm trying to be good.
He wields a heavy hammer without a thought and hits the hot metal without missing. Used to be he couldn't always hit a nail on the head without hurting his thumb. He sees me waving and carefully balances the hot metal on the anvil. He keeps the hammer in his hand. I can't take my eyes off the hammer; it scares me. It reminds me of a guard's billy club.
When he comes over, I point to Chrissy. He doesn't seem mad, just concerned. He goes and stands next to her. He picks up my chalkboard from the table.
"Heyes, you show her this about addin' the date?"
I nodded.
He nodded. He threw his hammer in the air and caught it easily. He didn't even seem to know he was doing it.
"She's thinkin' about it," he told me and went back into the forge.
She stayed that way, so I took her pencil and put today's date on her log. I waved my hand in front of her, but she didn't notice.
"Heyes, can you come here for a moment?"
I stopped at the door, not sure how far he wanted me to come. Surely, he didn't want me to go near the heat of the forge. He saw me waiting and gave a sigh like I was trying his patience.
"If I call you, you can come into the shop. Just be careful; the fire and my tools are real hot."
I wasn't sure if that meant I was supposed to go in now or not. I think too much. I never did before; I just did things. I don't know what to do, so I wait and look down. The Kid told me he hates it when I look down. He calls it being submissive. I thought about it and that's what it is, and fear.
"Heyes!" The Kid's voice was firm, and I could see he was working on the hooves of the last of the horses. "Get over here."
"Yes," I answered, walking to the other side of the horse to avoid the forge and maybe the Kid's anger. I'd been in my thoughts again and he knew it.
"That's my friend, Sheriff Birde, comin' up the road. That little gray is his wife's horse. With Chrissy thinkin', I need you to help him." The Kid didn't look up when he talked, just at what he was doing. "And stay focused, partner."
The Kid has a sheriff for a friend? I don't know how that could have happened. He's the fastest gun in the west, an ex-outlaw. Sheriffs ain't our friends. Still, the Kid asked me to help him. I run in the back and grab my chalkboard.
"Hi, there, Jed!" Sheriff Birde says as he rides up.
"Hey, Sheriff, my partner, Heyes, is gonna help you."
I had gotten the horse and brought her to him. "She's a pretty little thing," I wrote, not knowing what else to write. That's close to what I would say if I had words.
"Glad to meet you, Heyes!" The sheriff held out his hand for me to shake. I hesitated and he kept talking, just leaving his hand there waiting. "Jed's been excited about you joining him here."
"Y-yes," I forced out. The sheriff reached down and grabbed my hand and shook it. At first, I tried to pull it back, but at a look from the Kid, I shook it right back. My legs were trembling, but the Kid needed me to do this. A real-life sheriff was the Kid's friend. Hard to believe. Of course, Lom was a sheriff and our friend. But he'd also been part of the Devil's Hole Gang.
"Heyes, Sheriff Birde asked you a question." The Kid was getting good at recognizing when I was dwelling on other things.
I still held the man's hand, and I dropped it quickly. "Sor…sor." The word was stuck so I changed it to "Yes?"
"How much I owe you?"
I didn't know. I panicked and stepped back. The Kid was bent over a horse's foot nailing on a new shoe. I didn't know what to do.
"Prices are on the wall, Heyes. Luke made me a nice sign," he spoke calmly without looking up.
Luke? Luke McWinters? Why would he be here making a sign for the Kid's shop? Did he come here for his sister? Was he part of the threat?
"Son, are you going to take my money?" The sheriff was handing me money.
Concentrate, Heyes, concentrate, this man is a sheriff and somehow the Kid's friend, I scolded myself, wishing I could stop the shaking in my legs.
"Yes." I took the money and was relieved when I looked at the sign and I didn't have to make change. Now my dilemma was to say thank you. I found my chalkboard and wrote, "Thank you for your business."
He chuckled. "No, my thanks go to Jed the blacksmith. We've needed a smithy around here for a long time. Good day, Jed. Nice to meet you, Heyes."
The Kid finished the last horse and was working on a shovel, so I returned to the back room.
Chrissy didn't look up when she heard me, but said, "Date good." She had taken all the little notes from today and put the date on it.
I was good. I helped the owners of two other horses pay and marked the slips with how much. For one, I needed to make change. Chrissy showed me a little locked drawer in the back built into a cabinet that I would never have seen. It had a little change and a couple of bills. I took what I needed, and she locked the door and showed me where the key was hidden in a slot made just the right size in the floor. They shouldn't keep money here, even if it's hidden. Someone will steal it.
I heard a wagon on the road and was surprised when the Kid just waved at them as they went by and up to the house. I ran after them, until the Kid called me back. "Heyes, need you. Here comes the Richards boy for that old brown farm horse. Rudy will deal with that." Doesn't the Kid understand that wagon could be a threat to us?
JED 'KID' CURRY
Seems like I spent half the morning checking on Chrissy and Heyes both hiding in the back room and ignoring each other. Chrissy thought about it for a long time, but accepted Heyes suggestion to add a date. Then she added the date to everything. I agree it should make things easier to keep track of things.
Once the mercantile wagon from town headed to the house though, Heyes changed. He kept staring at the house and tremblin'. Finally, when I took a break in the back room, he stood in front of me with his chalkboard.
"Wagon, threat!" he wrote and I could tell from his face he believed it.
"No, partner, that's just the wagon from the mercantile in Three Birds. Me and Chrissy ordered some catalog things. Some things, like the new curtains, came the other day. The rest must be in them boxes."
He wasn't satisfied with my answer. "You know driver?" he wrote. I could feel his frustration that I wasn't worried.
"One of the Birde boys, can't keep them straight." I tried to calm him with a steady voice and reason. "Heyes, everything is fine but if you're worried that much, go on up the house. Chrissy left a while ago and Rudy's probably talkin' with the driver."
He stared at me, but his glare had lost its bite, not that I was ever afraid of him, but it could make others, even the old gang, shake in their shoes. He started to leave but studied the road to the house. I knew he hadn't walked that far in years, especially alone. Weren't like my time as a convict. I walked miles every day, back and forth to the river for water, and to wherever we was layin' track that day and back. We was watched but not too closely. Not much place to hide that deep in the desert if we tried to escape. Saw two men set off runnin' toward the river to escape and I watched as they were shot in the back and left to die on the hot sand. Convicts are looked on as the lowest form of life and slaved convicts are even lower.
Heyes turned back to me. "When you leaving?" he wrote and I could tell he'd resigned himself to worry about the wagon from afar.
"Be done in less than an hour. We'll have lunch at the house and help Rudy with the ranch."
He stood lookin' at the house. "I'll stay here and help you," he wrote on his board.
I didn't need it, but even if I did, he was too preoccupied watchin' the wagon bein' unloaded into the house for him to help me.
ASJ*****ASJ
Heyes spent his time in the back room busyin' himself with all the little slips of paper from today until I was ready. He avoided the rest of the customers comin' to pick up their things.
When it was time to leave, I knew what I wanted. "Heyes, you gonna walk next to me?"
He gave me a sheepish grin and walked the first few steps next to me, then dropped back, head lowered and followed behind. I was happy for any improvement. Baby steps. That's what Dr. Arden had called them for both Heyes and Chrissy. I was supposed to be happy with baby steps. But that was hard and frustratin'.
The wagon was leavin' as we were walkin' up to the house and we met them at the gate.
"Hey, Mr. Curry, Rudy had us leave the boxes in the living room. If you're Mr. Heyes, there's a box there for you, too." The boy was definitely one of Sheriff Birde's nephews but his name escaped me, so I didn't introduce Heyes. I nodded my thanks and he continued on.
As me and Heyes walked, I pulled the now filthy bandana from my head. The burned cut on my temple throbbed. I took the next few steps of the familiar trail with my eyes shut. The heat from the forge made every burn not fully healed on my body reignite with pain. My temple was the worst. When I stopped, Heyes attempted to walk next to me again. But failed within a few steps again. When I looked at him, he was rubbin' his bald head and lookin' at the black grim on his hand.
"We got a water pump in the kitchen, but we wash down in the stream. Maybe we'll go down tomorrow," I told him, but we were at the house and he bounded by me and up the steps without hearin'. I thought his interest was a good thing.
After I'd locked the front door behind us, I turned to watch him openin' his box and takin' out a couple of books.
"Told you Dr. Arden would send them, partner. Maybe we can build that bookcase for that corner this Sunday."
Chrissy was standing in the kitchen watching us.
Heyes looked at me with blatant defiance in his eyes. "My books. My room," he wrote on his chalkboard. He wrote quickly makin' it even harder to read.
"I know that they're your books, Heyes, but I thought out here we could all read them."
"No mine," he wrote. He tried and failed to lift the box, so he took four books out of it and headed to his room.
I looked at the confusion on Chrissy's face and shrugged my shoulders. She stood still for a moment as Heyes returned, tried to lift the box, and failed, and took four more books off the top.
Givin' up, I picked up the box and followed Heyes down the hall, stoppin' at his door. Smilin', he pointed to his bed.
"Heyes, it'd be nice if you shared your books," I scolded him.
He shook his head and unpacked more books into stacks on the floor. "No," he said.
"Lunch in a few minutes, then goin' to need your help with the ranch."
He waved at me but was self-absorbed in his task. I left and shut the door behind me, leavin' him in his own world. He'd told me the books were the most important thing to him in prison. He lost his library privileges and never got them back. But he wasn't in prison anymore.
When I passed by, Chrissy was comin' out of her room, arms stacked with books. She knew most of the books in her room came from Heyes.
"Darlin', you can keep the books in your room if you want. I'll talk to Heyes."
"No," she sighed before she looked up at me. "Books moret important to Heyes." She formed a neat pile of books outside his door before goin' back into her room to grab more. I waited just outside her room.
"There. Stack," she ordered as she shoved books into my arms and pointed outside of Heyes' door.
As I stacked, she kept bringin' more books. Finally done, she stood there with her hands on her hips. "Done."
"That was very nice of you, darlin'."
She stood in front of me and smiled a tellin' smile. "Heyes has his books. Jed buy Chrissy darlin' more books in Three Birds."
There was nothing to do but laugh. She was so right. I'd buy her anything just to see her smile. "Books and whatever else you want."
She motioned me to stay and went into her room and brought out two books. The copy of Black Beauty Lom had bought her and the book I gave her. She walked into the livin' room and to the far window, puttin' the books on the floor. "Sunday build bookcase for Chrissy darlin's books. Our books. Share with family."
She amazed me. She looked very proud of herself. "I'm proud of you, Chrissy."
She stopped, but she didn't freeze. In a moment, she put her hands on my chest and actually smiled into my eyes. "Good!"
ASJ*****ASJ
The next days were long, and the chores seemed never endin'. The stable door lock needed fixin'. If it closed, it locked. Should stay open until someone locks it. Maybe I had gotten too fancy puttin' one of my locks on the stable door that usually just had a slidin' piece of wood to lock it, but I wanted to impress those people spendin' their money to breed their mares here.
I kept puttin' that off, but I forced myself to go out after dinner every night and practice my shootin' no matter how tired I was. Heyes may see threats everywhere, but I remember the reality of Dr. Lewis. Heyes became obsessive about lockin' the doors and I made sure to thank him every night at dinner. Heyes never left the security of the house without me or Rudy. One night, I felt him followin' me down to where I shot.
"Heyes, I know you're there. Don't lurk behind the trees; come out here and stand behind me like you used to."
He didn't come out. Maybe I'd try again after I shot my first six shots. But I didn't have to. I knew when he came and stood close behind me on my right. "Feels good to have you there, partner."
He didn't answer but he stayed there. When I finished, I set up my bottle targets for tomorrow. Then I turned and draped my arm over his shoulder and forced him to walk next to me. After a couple of steps, I felt him tryin' to get out of my hold, so I let him go. He fell in step behind me, but when I turned, I saw he was fixated on my gun.
"Heyes?"
He met my gaze but then looked away.
"You remember you can't even touch a gun, right?"
He came forward, one finger extended toward my gun and a playful twinkle in his eyes.
I caught his hand and turned it away. "Not even playin' around. I gave my word you'd keep your conditions and I mean to keep my word."
He didn't understand why I was so strict about his rules. " I know I'll be asked if he was stayin' in line and don't want to think about lyin'"
"Oh…kay." That was his newest word. The twinkle left his eyes.
Most nights after that he came and watched me practice, but never tried to touch my gun again. Felt good just havin' him there.
One night Heyes was busy at the kitchen, trying to match the entries and slips with the money. I'd been too busy to mark down what I charged. He was so absorbed, I slipped out to practice shootin' without him noticin'. I did hear Chrissy's footsteps following behind me. I set up the bottles and can targets before I spoke to her.
"Chrissy darling, come out and stand where I can see you before I start practicing." The image of her wandering behind my targets that time fed my nightmares.
I waited and she stepped forward….wearin' Heyes gun strapped to her hip. She had the holster in the tightest hole and it just fit. "Chrissy darling practice too," she explained standing next to me but looking forward at the targets. "Protection."
I remembered her pa had taught her and all of her brothers to shoot when they were young. But he concentrated on a fast draw rather than control and accuracy. Me and Chrissy spent cherished hours at Devil's Hole and later at Winter's Refuge practicing shootin' for accuracy. There was something about my lady wearing a gun that made me excited. My heart beat faster as I watched her. She drew and fired, hitting three of the six targets. Her speed was quick but no longer fast. She cradled the gun in both hands, before handin' it to me. "Dirty!".
I took it from her and examined it. "Yes, it's dirty. I'll clean it when I have time." I hid it up on top of the cabinets in the kitchen and it sat there until I had the elusive time to clean it. But Chrissy had reminded me of something. She was never defenseless at Winter's Refuge. She could help protect herself.
Two mares were visitin' us and Rudy was busy with them. The next week I had two more comin'. My fault that the visits over lapped. "Heyes, where's the breeding calendar?" I asked at dinner one night.
He shrugged his shoulders and waved his hand at the mess on the table. He'd kept the books going forward but when I asked him about these, he would close his eyes and walk away.
I'd look for the calendar later. Maybe it was down at the shop. I didn't see the stack of letters either. I hope that meant he had read and answered them all. I wish he had let me review the first ones.
I was going to try again to make him understand the threat against Chrissy. "Heyes sit down, we need to talk about something."
He found his chalkboard and Chrissy left the kitchen. I unfolded the wanted poster for Chrissy and gave him time to read it. He grabbed it and held it for a moment.
"Joke?" he asked.
"No joke. US Marshals are trying to find out who issued the posters. And the Colorado governor has made it worse by offering amnesty to anyone who gets her to reveal the location of Devil's Hole…or brings in her body."
Heyes looked down the hall to her room, saying, "Oh."
HEYES
The Kid showed me the wanted poster for Chrissy. He said he showed it to me before, but I wouldn't look at it. I don't remember. I will study it this time. It looks real. The Kid says it is very real. He said the Colorado governor's offering an amnesty to whoever kills her. It doesn't apply here in Nebraska. Not sure when we left Wyoming, but we live in Nebraska. But we live in Cheyenne County. But it's in Nebraska. I need to think more on that.
Marshals are working on the clue of a sibling for a sibling on the poster. I'm going back to figuring a way to capture the McWinters boys. When I was in prison, I almost lost my parole deal because I was planning that and not concentrating on my work. Here I won't get in trouble for doing it. The Kid said someone we knew, I forgot who already, broke in here and held a gun to Chrissy's head. Said he still has nightmares about that. Juan threw a knife into the man's leg. I can't have a gun. I wonder if I can have a knife.
So, this is the threat. It's also a threat against me and the Kid because we know where Devil's Hole is. Anyone that finds out and tells the US Marshals will get the bounty on all the wanted men up there. That's a lot of money, a lot of incentive. Some of the old gang are hiding up there, some of our friends. I can't remember the plan I had started on in prison, but I have an idea for a new one. I have a lot of details to work out. The Kid seems pleased when I tell him that, but he reminded me I have responsibilities here that come first. He asked me about the letters with people inquiring about stud services. I didn't remind him winter's coming, and we can't do it then. Who wants to drag their mares all the way here in snow? I just set the letters aside. I'll open them in the spring.
I am working on the accounting ledgers though. Going forward, they are complete. I have to do them each night because the Kid doesn't always take the time to write down what he collected, and I have to ask him about it. He took in another goat instead of money. I started to question him about it. We need money to run this place. He turned over my chalkboard and held up his hand.
"I'll charge people what I want and take what I want in trade. This is my business. That man's a farmer and don't have much cash money. He's also a neighbor. I would have done it for nothing, but he has his pride and I respect that. But that's my decision, not yours. Do you understand, Heyes?" The Kid's voice was harsh, his tone impatient. I need to do what he expects.
I nodded but turned the chalkboard right side up again. "You need to make a profit," I wrote.
"You do the books. You know the shop makes a profit."
"Yes," I answered. "Could make more," I scribbled.
"Most of our money comes from those generous stud fees. And these people are our neighbors and becomin' our friends. So, I decide the payment and you keep the books, okay?"
"Yes," I said again, even though I didn't.
So, the books sometimes record a goat value unknown or three chickens. Last week he fixed a knife in exchange for two hours of mending fences. How do I record that? He does put the money in a box now instead of his pocket or in a random nearby can, so I can balance it at night. I suggested he open a bank account, but he laughed and said wait until I see the bank in Three Birds. Kyle could rob it without any help.
Well, I'm not going to Three Birds or anywhere. There are people there. I don't like to be around those I don't know and trust. I am getting to know Rudy, but I don't trust him. The Kid doesn't even let him live in the house.
I watched the Kid fold the wanted poster and put it away, but he took something else out of the drawer.
"Heyes, come sit with me on the couch and look through this. I want to buy a good safe for the house. Figurin' we could put it in the wall in the main room."
I brought my chalkboard and sat next to him. He had a catalog of safes. My heart jumped. I love safes. Haven't seen one in a long time. And the Kid wants to buy one of his own.
I looked at all the pictures and descriptions carefully, taking my time.
"Not for the wall, for the cellar floor," I wrote. Then I added, "Safer," and grinned at the play on words.
The Kid grinned, too. He used to grin all the time. Now he just works hard and sleeps. But he doesn't sleep much. He has nightmares too.
He smiles when he watches Chrissy. She smiles when she watches him, too. They have always been a good match.
"You're the expert. Pick out what's best for us."
He said us but he meant to say me. This is his place, his shop, his safe, and I know that. I won't forget that. I'll work hard to stay here with him…with him and Chrissy.
JED 'KID' CURRY
We made it through two and a half weeks with things gettin' better every day. Rudy asked for some time off to check out Porterville. We had two mares leavin' the next day and he said none were due for four more days, so I told him to say hi to Lom and I'd see him in four days. I also sent a letter for Lom with him asking if Heyes could carry a knife. He's asked about it a few times and I know it's on his mind.
WIth Rudy gone, I closed the shop the next day so I could help Heyes with the ranch. He learned quickly Chrissy would milk her cow and gather the eggs each mornin'. We sometimes had goat milk, but none of us much cared for it. I was thinkin' of askin' the widow that makes the bread if she'd like the goat. I'll find an excuse, so she thinks she is doin' us a favor by takin' it cause she is.
Heyes hid when the foreman from the Circle T came to get the mares. I was pretty sure both were pregnant. I wanted Heyes there to make out the receipt and log in the cash, but he was in the barn watchin'. When new people come, his tremblin' starts. He sees a threat in everybody. Today he blocked Chrissy from leavin' the house when he saw the man comin'. She froze. Went back in the house. Came out with Black Beauty and pushed her way past Heyes as if he weren't there. I knew she'd be sittin' on a bail on hay readin' to our mares. I'd put one of the extra quilts I'd taken in as payment on the hay to make it more comfortable for her.
Heyes rushed at me too panicked to even write. He pointed to Chrissy walkin' to the stables then the Circle T foreman comin' up the road. I put my hand on his shoulder, tellin' him firmly, "No threat from him."
Heyes immediately dropped his head and his eyes and stepped back. I hated it when he became submissive, especially to me. But I ignored it this time. "Heyes, need you to get the receipt ready for him."
I knew he didn't hear me. He was terrified. He wouldn't do it. He couldn't do it. I watched him shuffle as if he still wore ankle shackles into the back of the barn. No one could see him there. But he could see others.
So, I made out the receipt myself and I brought the two beautiful mares out. One, Jezebel, was extraordinary and spirited.
"Beautiful horse! Gonna have prize winnin' babies," I said.
"Hoping for a colt. Thank you."
I waited until the foreman had left Old Cummings Road and was out of sight before I went to find Heyes. I wondered what excuse he'd give this time. He always had an excuse. Nothing was ever his fault. That was on my list to work on with him.
I watched him climb up the ladder leadin' to the door to the room Juan and Rudy used. He shook the doorknob and pushed on the door. Noddin', he started climbin' back down.
"Locked?" I asked, immediately sorry I hadn't made noise to alert him to my presence before I talked.
Startled, he almost fell off the ladder. He glowered at me before sayin', "Yes."
"Thanks for checkin'."
At the bottom of the ladder, he waved me off.
I talked to him as I walked to the stalls we reserved for incomin' mares. I could hear Chrissy's voice further down readin', or maybe recitin', Black Beauty. "You and me, partner, need to get those stalls ready for the new ladies comin' in a few days. Rudy ain't here to do it. Remind me to look for that breedin' calendar, would you?"
HEYES
I can't concentrate on anything but finding it. The Kid asked about the breeding calendar and the letters again today. I ignore him, but he always asks the next day. I put it somewhere safe until Spring. No horses will come in the Wyoming…no, Nebraska winter. So, I hid the calendar and the letters. More letters have come, and I buried them on the table full of accounting papers. But they are gone now.
The Kid wants to know who is bringing the next pair of mares. Rudy knows, but he's not here. It's written on the calendar. I think it is the last group scheduled. I know it will be too cold after that. But I can't remember where I put the calendar. I have looked in all my drawers and all the kitchen drawers. Everywhere I can think of that I might have hidden the calendar I have looked and looked again. I wish I could remember what I did with it, and with that stack of letters. The Kid is going to be mad when he learns I can't find it; worse, he's going to be disappointed.
JED 'KID' CURRY
Heyes was actually a big help. We'd worked in enough liveries to know exactly how to prepare a stall. And we give these guests all the extras, includin' larger stalls with soft straw and fresh hay all around. We finished that and all the ranch chores in time for me to make dinner. I saw Chrissy waterin' the potatoes, carrots, and flowers again. We'd planted late in the season, so I tried to explain to her not to expect too much from the garden, but she just nodded. We would have a small crop of potatoes. And I planted some of the flower seeds in two old pots and put them on the porch where it would be warmer.
On my way to the house, I looked down to the smithy. All seemed quiet. The wind had turned cold and bitter the last few days. I had a worry for Rudy travelin' to Porterville. Once he rode to Bridgeport, the rest of his journey was on the train. While I made dinner, I watched Heyes carefully record the stud fees and the payment received. He seemed distracted and keeps shufflin' through the papers on the table. He sniffed appreciatively as he came near the stove, chalkboard in hand.
I smiled and said, "Fried chicken. Does smell good, don't it? That man from New Jersey, that brought his horses here, he taught Juan and I some tricks about cookin'."
Heyes rubbed his stomach. We stood in silence waitin' for the chicken to cook. "Partner, me and Chrissy are drivin' into Three Birds for an early Mass Sunday. Wanna come?"
He shook his head and backed hard into the table. "No."
"Chrissy's scared there, too. She usually sits between me and Rudy. Without him here I thought you could sit on the other side of her."
I could see him thinkin'. I saw fear in his face. And concern as he looked toward Chrissy's room. He wrote on his board, "Not this time. Maybe later."
Then he erased his writin' as if embarrassed. He wrote what was on his mind and handed me the chalkboard. "Expenses?"
"Not sure what you mean?"
"How much does it cost us for care and boardin' of the mares? Do you know?" he wrote small and unruly to fit all the words in. I had to read it twice to understand what he meant.
But he had a point. "Never figured that out. Maybe you can work that out with these next two comin'?" I asked. "Wish I could find that calendar, so I'd know where they are from."
Heyes looked pleased and excited at the expense project. He brought a new piece of paper over to me. He had written at the top: Breeding Expenses. He had four entries to start:
1) Four hours to prepare two stalls for mares / two hours per mare
2) Straw for stalls
3) Oats for mares
4) Hay for mares
"I'd have never thought about includin' our time, and Rudy's, in our expenses. Good job!"
He seemed a little taller each time I complimented him, so I made an effort to do it more often. I longed to have the old Heyes, my confidant, my friend, back, whole and healed. That was my goal and I reminded myself each time I felt frustrated or alone, a caregiver rather than a partner.
Heyes smiled at my comment and gave me a thumbs up as we filled our plates for dinner. There weren't quite as many papers on the table so maybe he was making some progress. If he didn't take his dish and wash it, I left it where it sat. Today he had to take his plate and scrub it to get the hardened residue of food off of it before takin' his chicken. As a treat, I'd opened a can of peaches.
Chrissy didn't come out for dinner, so I knocked on her door and said, "Dinner time, darlin'." She didn't open her door. I would fix a plate and leave it at her door after I ate. The foreman of the Circle T comin' to the ranch probably scared her.
After dinner, I tried to sit with Heyes and help him with the older slips of paper on the table. His mind was wanderin', and he kept askin' questions about the expenses and searchin' the table for something. Then, I watched as Heyes started his nightly routine. He had patterns just like Chrissy. As long as they didn't overlap, all was good. First, he checked the front door to see if it was locked. He had added checkin' all the windows, except the ones in my room and Chrissy's room. He checked each window in the main room, closin' the ones opened durin' the day to let a breeze into the house. Once the sun disappeared, that breeze was ferocious and bitin' cold. Each night was colder. He checked the front door again and moved to the kitchen.
I fell asleep at the table with my head on my arms on the mess of papers. It was quiet and dark when I woke up…and I knew it was late. Someone, probably Chrissy, had put a quilt over my shoulders to keep me warm and I must have slept for hours. The lamps were turned low, so I figured Heyes had gone to bed.
I stood and stretched to the ceilin'. The burn on my shoulder was healin' but the stretch still hurt. In this case, the joy of stretchin' my crampin' arms and shoulders outweighed the pain. Heyes had even cleaned his plate and mine and put them away. As I started to go to bed, I knew something was wrong. Even as sleepy as I was, I saw Chrissy's food still outside her door. She always checks for her dinner eventually.
"Chrissy, darlin'. You okay? Not hungry?" I knocked on her door and asked.
Nothing. Only silence in reply.
"Chrissy?" When there was no response, I turned the doorknob. It was unlocked. Her room was dark. Not wantin' to disturb her but needin' to see she was alright, I lit the lamp on the dresser by the door. The room was empty. Her bed was still made from this mornin'.
Fear held my heart, but I didn't let it control my actions.
I knocked on Heyes' door. Without waitin' for a reply, I opened it. "Can't find Chrissy!" I exclaimed and realized I was glad she wasn't with him.
Heyes jumped up, eyes frightened.
"Help me find her."
We raced around the house. Even though the kitchen door was locked, Heyes went out and looked in the privy. She was nowhere. My mind was racin'. Someone had taken her from our house. How? The stable door was closed so I knew it was locked. Heyes pulled on it anyway to check.
I went to the barn. The ground floor of our barn is open to the elements except for the back corner. The upstairs is strong and insulated. It sleeps two. Juan remodeled it when he first arrived here. There's only a half door entrance for the cow and some goats. The wind whistles through here strongly bringin' its cold sting to every corner of the ground level.
I found her there in her thin dress, sleepin' on a small bench under the ladder to Rudy's room. Even in her sleep, her teeth were chatterin' and she was shiverin'.
"Found her!" I yelled so Heyes would know to stop lookin'.
"Chrissy, darlin'?" I said softly. When she opened her eyes, she held mine for a moment. I picked her up. I cradled her in my arms, holdin' her close to me just as I had done when we found her in the dark cell in prison.
"J…Jed," she said through chatterin' teeth. Her body was so cold next to me. She shivered continuously. She put her cold arms around my neck.
"I got you, darlin'. You're safe now." I kissed her hair before I realized it. She didn't seem to notice. Heyes held open the back door and ran inside ahead of me. When I got in, I held her in one arm and fought the wind to close the door behind us. Heyes was startin' a fire in the fireplace. One thing about this small house, the main room and kitchen warmed up quickly.
Fire started, he held a quilt out and I wrapped her in it, but refused to let her out of my arms. Heyes pushed the lone chair in front of the fire. Sittin, down, I rocked her in my arms.
Heyes knelt next to us and pulled the quilt off her arms, rubbing them briskly. Then he took her low boots off and rubbed her feet. Her nose was runnin' and Heyes got a handkerchief and wiped it for her, but it kept runnin'. As she warmed up, she looked at me with those green eyes and hugged me tight.
"Knew Jed come. Scared. Chrissy darling locked out."
And then I knew what had happened, but Heyes stepped back, horror showin' on his face.
"We'll talk later," I meant to talk civilly, but know I growled.
A while later, Chrissy pushed off the quilt. "Hot, so hot," she moaned.
Leavin' the quilt on the floor, I carried her to her room. Heyes appeared out of nowhere, movin' to turn down the bed. I noticed he had put a fresh pitcher of water on her nightstand.
As I settled her onto the bed, I felt her forehead. She was burnin' with fever, yet she smiled at me and ran her hand down the side of my face. "Knew Jed come," she repeated with a brief smile.
I sat on the side of her bed. I didn't know what to do. I looked up and all of Heyes' books were lined up around the edge of her room as they had been before Heyes had reclaimed them as his own.
He handed me his chalkboard. "My fault. All my fault," he had written. Despair showed on his face.
If I wasn't so upset, I would have been glad he took the responsibility. Instead, I just nodded.
"Get a bowl of cold water and a clean cloth," I told him. I tried to decide if she needed a doctor. She had a fever, but she was shiverin'. I checked the time. It was almost two in the mornin'. She been in that cold with little shelter since early evenin'. Not Heyes' fault, my fault. I had never fixed the lock on the stable door, and I bet it had blown closed and she couldn't get in there. And I had never taken the time to make Chrissy…and Heyes, too, keys for the doors. I was sleeping deep, I probably wouldn't have heard her knock on the door. My fault, not anyone else's.
Chrissy fell into a restless sleep. I thought about the times she'd nursed me. She had known what to do. I didn't. When Heyes brought the bowl of water in, I had purpose. I cooled her forehead, the back of her neck, her arms, her legs while Heyes stood and watched. After a few minutes, I realized he had left. I didn't have time to deal with him right now.
I brushed her hair out of her eyes. It had grown in the months she had left prison. It was not long enough to pull back, but I liked the way it curled around her face. Heyes reappeared with another bowl of cool water and another cloth. He moved to the other side of the bed and mirrored my actions. I felt guilty lookin' at him. I needed to tell him the truth.
"Heyes, it was good that you told me this was your fault."
He nodded and sadness crossed his face as he rang the cloth out. He gently lifted her head and held it on the back of her neck.
"Wasn't your fault. It was mine. I never fixed the lock on the stable and it blew shut. And I never made keys for the house for the two of you." I confessed.
"NO!" Heyes reached across and grabbed my arm. "No, m…mm," he couldn't get the words out. He took his bowl and went out to the kitchen. Instead of just fresh water, he came back with his chalkboard. He had written. "No, my fault. I didn't think. I dream about plan to catch her brothers. I locked her out. Me…not you."
He had resumed coolin' her down. I thought she felt some cooler, but I could tell if she really was or I just wished she was. I still didn't know what to do. Could I go get the doctor and leave Heyes here to watch her? What if he got lost in his thoughts and she needed something?
Heyes was watchin' me closely. He used to know what I was thinkin', but not anymore. I felt Chrissy's forehead again. It was definitely cooler. At my sigh of relief, Heyes wrote, "Better?"
I nodded. Chrissy was sick, but Heyes needed something from me now, too. "Cooler. Thanks for your help. I think Chrissy will like the books. That was nice of you."
He looked longingly at the books.
"When she gets well, I think Chrissy will want to put them in the livin' room where you can get one anytime you want."
He looked uncertain. Chrissy moaned and his uncertainty turned to concern.
"Be right back," I told him as I went to get a glass. She needed to drink water. Why hadn't I thought of that earlier. I checked the time. It was after three AM. People would be linin' up at the blacksmith shop in three hours. And there was the solution. Whoever lined up first, I'd send back for the doctor. I'd do their job for free. Some worry left me; I had a plan what to do.
Heyes found me in the kitchen and pointed to Chrissy's room. Something was wrong and he couldn't call out for me. I raced to the room. Chrissy's eyes were open, and she smiled when I came in.
"Jed."
"Oh Chrissy, I'm sorry this happened. I'll send for the doctor in about three hours."
She pushed herself up on her elbows and looked at the empty glass. "Water?" I filled it from the pitcher.
As she drank, I felt her forehead. "Your fever broke!"
She put her hand to her head and nodded with a smile. "Jed came." Then she saw the books and slowly looked around the room. Heyes had been hangin' just outside the door, watchin'. When she saw him, he backed up. Lookin' at him she said, "Heyes, books, ours?"
He shuffled in slowly. I didn't know if it was remorse or subservience. "Sor…sor…," he said to the ground. After she didn't answer for a moment, he wrote, "My fault. I locked the doors."
She took the chalkboard. She erased it and wrote, "Key?" and handed it to me.
"Yes, darlin', I'll give you my key later today."
ASJ*****ASJ
Chrissy would only let Dr. Sexton examine her if I was in the room. And she only let him feel her forehead and look in her eyes and ears. He had one of them stethoscope things, but she would only let him listen to her heart through the sheet.
"Missy, you'll be fine. Rest today and tomorrow you can go about your normal day."
She stared over his shoulder as he talked, and he looked behind him. No one was there. She was in her own world, thinkin'.
"Got it doctor, thank you for comin'." I led the doctor out of the room. Chrissy was just thinkin' about these changes and the doctor askin' questions. These spells were becomin' shorter, but this time so much had happened, I knew she needed time alone. "How much I owe you, Doctor?"
"That horse pullin' my buggy could use a new shoe soon on the back right side."
"It's a deal. Runnin' late today. Can you bring him in tomorrow mornin'?"
"He'll be there. Oh, and here's your mail. Sheriff told me Rudy's gone for a few days, so I thought I'd bring it out to you." He handed me a stack of letters almost two inches high. I glanced and they were addressed to Curry Ranch, Nebraska.
"Well thank you, again."
"You're welcome. I can see myself out."
As soon as the doctor left, I went back into Chrissy's room. She was sitting up on the side of her bed and must have been listening. She tore the stack of envelopes from my hand. "Mine!"
She laid back down quickly, the exertion too much for her. She hugged the stack of letters, but I had read the address on the top one.
"Chrissy? For some reason that top one is addressed to Curry Ranch? Darlin,' you got something to tell me?"
Chrissy was held the letters in her hand as she slid it under her pillow. The doctor had given her laudanum in her water, and she was fightin' sleep. "My mail," she said as her eyes closed and her body relaxed. The letters fell on the floor. I was tired, too, but infinitely happy she was goin' to be alright. I picked up the letters and slid them back under her pillow before I went to work.