Winter's Refuge
Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Four
JED 'KID' CURRY
Yesterday was busy around here. Still, I couldn't believe I slept so much today. I was tired. I had a quiet time to think about all the ways I'm failing this family. How could I not notice that Ruth Ellen couldn't hear? Shame on me. I visited my kids at the Juan and Hortencia's house last night when I walked around the property to do my night check. After huggin' and listenin' to each one, I studied them. After findin' out that the baby can't hear, I realized that I don't really take the time to look closely at them each day…but I should have. Another thing that I failed at. They're growin' so quickly. Martha still limps from the dog bite and has a cute spray of freckles across her nose. Michael is hidin' a bruise on his forehead with his bangs.
"Was an accident, Pa. It really was," he said as I brushed his hair aside.
But Martha came and stood next to him. "It was my fault, Papa. I didn't want to wait for someone to unlock our gate the other day and I climbed the fence. Michael followed but…but..."
"But my foot got stuck and I hit my head."
"Doesn't look too bad but maybe have Dr Oliver look at it later." I pulled my brave kids in tight. When did they get old enough not to run to us with every bump and scratch. Then I thought of somethin'. "Where were you goin' that you needed the gate opened?"
They looked at each other and now I'm sure they can communicate like me and Heyes without talkin'. "Just explorin', Pa," Martha answered for them. "Will you take us ridin' soon?"
I smiled as she changed the subject so easily. "Yes, I promise."
As they wandered off, I focused on the little ones playin' on the floor. But they weren't babies anymore. Joy sat right in front of her sister and was showin' her how to change the clothes on the old rag doll Daisy that had been Martha's. When Ruth Anne did it right, she smiled at her. When she looked confused, Joy showed her what to do. All without words. Joy understood Ruth Anne was deaf before we did. Don't know what goes on in her toddler mind, but she'd accepted that's just how her little sister is.
Next, I held out my arms. Laughin', Joy used her palms on the floor to help her stand up. Seein' what she was doin', Ruth Anne did the same thing, fallin' back on her bottom one time before standin' up. Joy looked at Ruth Anne and pointed to me and the sisters came to me. Joy runnin' and laughin'. Ruth Anne toddled after her. I picked them both up in my arms. I'm blessed with my children. I've failed them and I need to get to know each one better.
ASJ*****ASJ
Everyone was at the house for a family lunch. Auntie tried to feed all the kids in the livin' room where Angie was planted on the couch with her feet up. But we learned that sweet little Mikey doesn't play well with others…he wants all the toys for himself. He hit anyone tryin' to take them, as Michael learned when he tried to retrieve Joy's doll from him.
Mike had cornered me and Chrissy outside for a moment, lookin' concerned. "You notice how much little Mikey looks like your kids? Maybe I shouldn't have brought him here."
Chrissy nodded and looked around. When no one could hear she said softly, "Cousins, you know. My brother Johnny's son."
"No," I corrected. "He's Michael Loveland Jr. and this here's his father. Just happens to look like some of the McWinters."
"Of course, that's right. That's what we'll say if anyone comments on the resemblance." Chrissy took Mike's hand and added, "Thank you for loving him."
Overcome with emotion, Mike could only nod. But as I went in, I couldn't help but realize that Joy and Little Mikey really did look a lot like each other."
Dr. Oliver surprised us by preparin' a comfortable chair in the livin' room and bringin' out Miss Denise and the baby to join us.
"I've got news," Miss Denise announced to the group. "We've named this boy."She snuggled him close.
"What's his name?" Martha demanded, but all of us wanted to know the same thing.
"Well, he's Aiden Joshua Arden. We wanted to name him after Heyes since he saved us. But apologies, we couldn't saddle him with Hannibal."
"Honored you thought about it," Heyes said gallantly.
"Well, the Joshua is after you. Aiden says that was the alias you used when you were going for amnesty," Miss Denise said. "And we're going to call him Ajay."
Looking' around, I caught Heyes' eyes. He was thinkin' the same thing. This was as close to heaven as two outlaw convicts could have dared to dream from prison.
And now I have to go back to the Yuma Prison with Lom to visit Preacher. Aiden said they both need my help. Don't know if I'm the right person to give it, but I'll try. Ever since I said I'd go back to that place, nightmares of their dark cell with scorchin' days, freezin' nights, scorpions,and fallin' snakes have attacked my dreams every night, even when holdin' Chrissys. And I can't tell her why.
HEYES
"Heyes, when he was here given' examinations, Aiden asked me to go visit Lom. Says he's been drinkin' heavy and neglectin' his son," Kid told me when we were alone in the stable brushin' the horses.
"Understandable, he lost Miss Susan. Must be hard to live with that." I looked over at the house where our pregnant wives were resting. I don't know how any man can live losing the woman he loves.
"Aiden says he's out of control, dependent on whiskey. Has bottles stashed all over the place. I'm goin' to see if I can help. Leavin' tomorrow. Be gone more than a week."
"Kid, want some company? I haven't been to Porterville in a long time."
"No! No, need you to stay here and keep a watch on things here." The Kid's first 'no' was too quick and too harsh. Something else was going on here that he wasn't telling me. And it didn't seem like he was going to either.
JED 'KID' CURRY
Feel bad not tellin' Heyes and Chrissy about goin' to Yuma. Right now, I got to respect Preacher's wishes but when I see him I'm gonna tell him I want to tell them. Secrets never lead to anything good. I didn't tell Lom exactly when I was comin', just that I would go with him to the prison. Chrissy and Auntie sent a beautiful quilt they made in greens and browns for the baby. They said Susan told them those were the colors of his nursery.
Arrivin' unannounced had the advantage that I'd see Lom on a normal day for him. I did and it broke my heart. Got there on the two fifteen afternoon train. First stop was the Sheriff's office. A young man was sittin' behind Lom's desk doin' paperwork.
"Lookin' for Sheriff Lom Trevors," I said. Lookin' around the familiar room, I didn't see anything much that reminded me of Lom. The desk was a mess. There was no pot sittin' on the stove ready to make coffee.
"He's not available right now. I can help you, sir." I saw the deputy badge on his chest. Aiden had told me Lom had two young, steady, reliable deputies.
"Came to see Lom," I answered.
"Why don't you go check into the hotel and I'll tell Sheriff Trevors to drop by there later," the deputy answered. But in his tone I heard confirmation of the town's excuses that Aiden had mentioned. If I did that, this young deputy would find Lom and try to sober him up enough to visit me.
"Plannin' on stayin' with Lom. Thanks, though." I stepped out of the office and counted, sure the deputy would want to come with me as I looked in the saloon for Lom. By the count of five, the young man was standin' next to me.
"Was he expecting you, sir?"
"Uh huh." I headed for the saloon with him on my tail.
"May I ask your name, sir? So if I see him I can tell him who's looking for him."
I knew I was walkin' fast. "Curry."
"Kid Curry?" The awe in the deputy's voice surprised me. "He always said he knew you and Hannibal Heyes."
I pushed open the batwing doors of the saloon and stepped to the left out of habit. I still like to get the feel of a saloon before I enter all the way. My eyes adjusted fast and I saw Lom sittin' alone at a small round table almost hidden by the stairs.
"Found him, Deputy. Thank you for your help," I said to dismiss my shadow. He didn't leave, but he didn't follow me to Lom's table either.
Sittin' down opposite my old friend, I waited until he looked up to talk. "Hi, Lom. What you doin' here?"
LOM
A voice intruded on my drunken stupor. I'd had just about enough so that my memories would go away.
"Hi, Lom. What you doin' here?"
I knew I was drunk because the face in front of me was a blur. But I knew that voice.
"Kid? You're early."
He moved my glass and the whiskey bottle out of my reach. "Came early to visit and meet your son. Think you've had enough of that," he told me.
When I reached for my half full glass, he caught my wrist. Using a harsh outlaw tone I had never heard directed at me, he said, "You've had enough, Trevors."
I sat back in my chair. "Oh Kid, I need it, at least until the pain gets less."
He came around the table. Grabbing my arm, he pulled me to my feet. "It's past that time. I know you hurt, but your life is here and now and you're lettin' people down."
"Where're we going?" He was pulling me along and I was feeling dizzy…and sick. We were heading toward our house, Susan and my house. "Don't want to go there. Live in my cabin." Felt like the ground moved under me but the Kid steadied me.
"Easy there, Lom. I got you."
"Need to go back. Left my whiskey bottle on the table." I needed to think about my words before I speak. Even I can tell they are slurred. "The bottle was still half full."
"You don't need any more of that."
Disagreeing with him, I felt tears coming to my eyes. "I do, Kid. I need it."
JED 'KID' CURRY
Aiden was right. The need for alcohol has stolen the Lom I know, and he's let it. There was a time in my life that I felt I needed alcohol to function. It was when me and Heyes separated and I drifted to Texas. Earned myself a reputation as a fast gun but I didn't kill no one. The reputation grew faster than my deeds and, I have to admit, I kinda liked it. That changed when the gunfighters got competitive and challenged me just for my reputation. The newspapers gave me the title fastest gun in the west. I was seventeen, too young to handle it. I missed Heyes' wisdom. I didn't know how to do anything except fight when called out. I became antisocial, suspicious that every man I met was goin' to challenge me.
Havin' Heyes as my partner since I was a boy had taught me a lot, but it hadn't taught me how to live alone. I managed by not trustin' anyone and findin' what work I could. Never sold out my gun skills though, no matter how hungry I got. Everything went on like that until one day in June when I felt the need to be around people, so I joined a poker game with Theodore 'Hot Shot' Henry. Everyone in Texas knew Hot Shot Henry, a fast gun for hire that supposedly never drew first. But I'd heard rumors that wasn't true anymore. He was a tall charismatic man, closer to forty than thirty and, if you had the money, he was on your side in any fight.
But now he was sittin' two seats over at the poker table with me and watchin' me out of the corner of his eye. He bet on anything he was dealt from a pair on up. He lost everything and blamed me, accused me of cheatin'. I wasn't as good as Heyes at poker, but he taught me well and I usually won more than I lost…and I didn't cheat.
"You're cheating, Curry. Yeah, I know who you are," Henry yelled. He turned to the other players. "You all been playing with the famous Kid Curry. Newspapers are calling him The Fastest Gun in the West." He gave a small laugh. "But that's still my title and no baby blonde boy's gonna take it."
"I play an honest game."
He faced me and slipped the leather loop off of his gun. "Prove it, cheater."
"Don't need to cheat to beat you," I answered and knew somewhere in the back of my mind that was the wrong answer. I was makin' him more mad.
The bartender spoke up, holdin' a rifle he had behind the bar on us. "Take it outside," he growled.
"You man enough to face me, boy?" Henry snarled. "Up to you if we do it inside or outside."
Now I would know the words to avoid a gunfight or at least try. But then I didn't know anything to do but fight. "Outside," I told him. There were too many innocent men in here who might get hurt.
"After you," Henry told me. I did as he asked. What other choice did I have? I stopped outside the bar.
He chose his end of the street and, of course, he put the sun at his back. But I'd learned if I place myself at a little angle to him, the sun wouldn't be as much in my eyes. I calmed my emotions; I've always been able to keep things inside. I learned that at the Home. I know he's not gonna see anything on my face. But I'm watchin' his eyes. That's where I'll see when he's ready to draw.
"Draw, Kid," he said, his eyes focused on my gun hand.
"I don't draw first," I answered. I wondered if the rumors about his not drawin' first were true. He's older than I thought he was. He might need that extra beat of the clock to win now.
"Draw, or I'll shoot one of those people watching us."
All the people from the bar were on the boardwalk watchin' us and others had come out of nearby stores. I said nothin' more and focused on his eyes.
He glanced at the crowd. When his eyes came back to me, I saw the decision to draw. He was fast, very fast, and he had drawn first so had that split second on me. In the instant before his bullet hit me, I turned ever so slightly as I fired, but like Heyes, Henry had a twist when he shot that moved his arm. With my movement and his twist, instead of hittin' his firin' arm and makin' him drop the gun, my bullet went into his chest on the left side. And killed him.
I just stood there. I'd never killed anyone before. First, I felt an emptiness, then emotion flooded me. As if I were not involved, I watched the sheriff and another man kneel down next to Henry and shake their heads no.
"Sir, SIR!" a voice finally got through to me as I moved my starin' eyes from the body to the man in front of me. "I'm Doctor Williams. You've been shot. Let me take a look at that."
Before he said that, I hadn't felt my wound. Now the pain in my leg forced me to the ground.
Through a fog, I heard the doctor's voice yell, "Need some men over here to help this man to my office."
And I woke up there a day later. The sheriff paid me a visit and said I was clear. Henry forced the fight and drew first. They buried him in their version of Boot Hill. Sheriff gave me a package that he said had Henry's possessions. "Guess they're yours now."
I didn't want them, but he left the package on the table. The next day he came back and asked me to leave town. Not that I'd done anything wrong, but my reputation brought as he said, "Them men that they didn't want in their town."
Still in pain, I started drinkin'. And then I started drinkin' all the time. The physical pain in my leg I could handle, but I had killed a man. And somethin' inside of me died with him. It didn't matter that the sheriff cleared me. I had killed Theodore Henry. And I turned to whiskey to make me forget that. I had a drink or two in the mornin' instead of breakfast and then practiced my fast draw and accuracy for hours, usually until I ran out of bullets. Then I rode down the road. I didn't think I was headin' anywhere but I was. I was headin' to Heyes.
I had money. Henry's possessions had included a thousand dollars stuffed on the toe of a sock. It paid for a soft bed in a hotel every night, bullets, and enough alcohol to get me through the day. I liked the whiskey. It gave me confidence and hid the pain. I felt assured in a gunfight. The first one to challenge "Kid Curry" found me drinkin' and playin' poker in Beaver City in the panhandle of Oklahoma.
I'd been drinkin' all day when a young man entered, with a well-worn holster and gun. He sat at the poker table playin' but bettin' lightly and foldin' quickly.
"You Kid Curry?" he asked.
'I am," I answered, pleased that the whiskey made me feel braver, more in control, even though I know now the opposite was true.
"I bet I'm faster than the fastest gun in the west."
"Go away. You're still wet behind the ears," I told him, laughin'.
"You Dan Edgar's boy?" one the the poker players asked him but was ignored.
"You makin' fun of me. Then draw and prove it." He was standin' at the table now, right hand over the gun on his hip.
"Go home to your ma," I told him and laughed with the other men at the table.
"Draw, Curry," the young man insisted.
I stood up and took the loop off my gun. And I realized that my concentration with all the drinks was not as strong as usual. I blinked to get my vision clear and found his eyes.
"I don't draw first."
He started to draw. And he was quick but not accurate. He got the first shot off just before I pulled my trigger. His bullet hit the wall over my shoulder. My bullet grazed the back of his gun hand.
"OWW! Oh!" His gun fell to the floor as he grabbed his hand.
The sheriff happened to be playin' with us. He looked unhappy but told me, "You're clear, Curry. He drew first. But you will be leaving Beaver City in the mornin', right?"
"Right." I picked up my winnings from the table, bought two bottles of whiskey from the bar, and drank in my room, tryin' to convince myself that the boy hadn't outdrawn me. And by the end of the first bottle, I passed out almost believin' that.
The next afternoon, I left. I need to get to Wyomin'. That's where I left Heyes. I need to tell him I was wrong. If he thinks joinin' an outlaw gang is what we should do, then I agree. I visit towns in the daytime now. Asked in the saloons for a man with Heyes' description, even though I hadn't seen him in over a year. Bars are the best place to get information and hear rumors, like the breakup of the Jim Plummer gang. And I learned they had had an excellent safe man that could be Heyes. I bought food, bullets, and whiskey each day and slept under the stars. My need to find my cousin and my need for the alcohol grew stronger.
Each night the alcohol did its job, and I didn't care I had killed a man…unless I really thought about it. My mornin' practices became quicker and less focused because I wanted to get back to camp and drink. That's how Heyes found me. He'd read newspaper articles about the young Kid Curry and was searchin' for me.
I passed out on my bed roll, head leanin' on my saddle, after drinkin' my dinner. Openin' my eyes, I smelled bacon and coffee and felt sick to my stomach. I leaned on my elbows to raise my head and look around…and saw Heyes through blurry eyes..
"Hi there, Partner," he said, given' me a dimpled smile that I could tell was real. He has a fake smile that he uses sometimes, but I could tell the difference.
"Heyes, you really here? I been lookin' for you. I'm sorry I left you…so sorry." My head ached and I looked around for the second bottle I had bought last night.
"I'm sorry, too. Been looking for you. And if you're looking for a drink, have some coffee. This is now a dry camp."
"Dry? But I should have a full bottle of whiskey." I started to panic. I was surprised how much I needed that drink.
"You did but you don't now. I poured it out. But I made coffee and have breakfast started. We need to talk."
I got up and started turnin' over everything lookin' for the whiskey I needed.
"Looking for this?" Heyes held up an empty bottle. "Told you, I got rid of it. You don't need it."
I remember starin' at him in the eyes. We could always say more that way without talkin'.
"Heyes, I need a drink, really need it."
"No, you don't."
"Yes, I do." I looked away. "Heyes, I killed a man. Without a drink, I see him dyin' in front of me."
He didn't say anything but came and put a hand on each of my arms. "I know. I read about it. Fair fight. He drew first."
"Ain't never killed no one before. Didn't mean to then. Can't get him out of my head."
"Then together we can figure out how you can." We did just that and I can have a drink without it controllin' me now. And I learned how to keep on livin' after killin' a man.
And now I need to help Lom the way Heyes helped me.
LOM
The Kid led, no, dragged me to my big cold house where my boy lives with Phyllis. She looked surprised when I stumbled in the door, the Kid right behind me.
"Sheriff, you're early." She recovered quickly.
"You must be Miss Phyllis. I'm a friend of Sheriff Trevors, Jed Curry. Came to meet his son." The Kid charmed Phyllis the way he charms most women. She met his warm smile with one of her own.
"He's such a good baby. He should just be waking up about now."
The Kid followed her down the hall and into the idyllic nursery with the murals of trees and birds on the wall. He didn't hesitate but went straight to the crib and picked up Wayne and hugged him close.
"You have a clean diaper?" he asked Phyllis.
"Yes, oh here, I'll change him," she offered.
The Kid broke out his warm smile for her again. "No, darlin', I have four of them at home, I can handle it. In fact, take the night off me and Lom will take Wayne back to his cabin for the night and take care of him. Please pack him a bag with whatever he will need."
I was shocked. "But I can't…"
"'Course we can, Lom. He's your son. Here, take him." He handed me the still wet baby.
"Okay, how about a drink, Kid, before we go. Got some fine whiskey here."
"Might have to pour that out. Don't think we will be drinkin' tonight."
At my cabin, we talked and played with Wayne. When I went to bed and wasn't looking, the Kid emptied out all the bottles of whiskey he could find. But he didn't find them all.