Winter's Refuge
Chapter One Hundred Ninety-Two
HEYES
The Kid will catch the evening train for Denver in two days. But he's like a wolf stalking his prey. Something happened with Roberto, but he has to wait to find out what. Russell is due back tomorrow and I know he wants to be there to back me up, even though he didn't say anything. We talked about it and from what the Kid learned in Bridgeport and the way he acted here, we think he was cutting corners and doing inferior work. We'll listen to what he says about our plans. If he made changes we like we'll hire him…and if we hire him we will watch everything he does.
ASJ*ASJ
When Russell came the next day, the Kid was working in the back room of the smithy, but Rocky let him know the contractor had arrived. Still wiping his hands, the Kid walked into my office before Russell had even sat down.
"Mr. Curry, glad you're here," Russell said, holding his hand out. With a sly grin at me, the Kid shook it, knowing he still had some of the black dirt from the forge on his hands that would transfer to the contractor's hands.
"Sorry," the Kid said and handed Russell his bandana. He went and stood in the back corner of the small office and nodded to me, but Russell spoke first.
"Mr. Heyes, Mr. Curry, I have looked over your plans and made some alterations. It's obvious they were made by an amateur."
"Please let me see them," I said. I found my confidence easier with the Kid standing arms crossed over his chest in the corner.
Everything had been changed, including Rocky now having a full-size bedroom with two windows. The addition we wanted on the side now was on the back where me and Angie's bedroom had been, included three bedrooms, and there was no extension of the second floor with more bedrooms.
"Now, this plan makes more sense and still gives you room for everyone. I picture a girl's bedroom and a boy's bedroom in this addition. You have to remember your children are young now, but they won't be living here with you forever. Here's my estimate for this work." Russell slid a paper across the table with a large number on it.
To calm myself, I pretended to study the plans that bore no resemblance to what we had requested. I was just about to speak when Russell turned to the Kid. "Mr. Curry, surely you want to look at the improved plans and my estimate."
The Kid didn't move. "I leave those decisions to our Phoenix Operations Manager."
I caught the Kid's eyes for a moment. We had discussed what I would do if the plans weren't what we wanted. I rolled up the changed plans. Reaching back, I slipped them onto my shelf. "Mr. Russell, thank you for your time. We are getting quotes from multiple contractors as these are major changes to our house." I stood up and held out my hand. "Goodbye, we will be in touch with you if yours is the quote we choose," I said firmly.
He didn't shake my hand. Instead, he turned to the Kid, who hadn't moved. "Mr. Curry, surely you know my work. I will plan to start the construction Monday morning." He held out his hand to the Kid, who kept his arms crossed and nodded at me.
The Kid can speak softly and still make his words firm with a threat behind them. He did that now. "Like my partner said, we will let you know if we would like you to do the work."
"I can rework the plans again," Russell said, sounding desperate to get our business.
"Goodbye, Mr. Russell," the Kid said, still without moving. I noticed that he was wearing his guns. He must have put them on while walking from the blacksmith shop. With them, even though he was just standing in the corner, he was intimidating.
ASJ*ASJ
I was glad that Aiden's letter arrived before the Kid left for Denver. This was one letter we did not read to the family, but in my office with the door closed. It was addressed specifically to Mr. Hannibal Heyes. He knew that the Kid would need to talk to someone about it. Instead of sitting behind my desk, I sat in the chair next to the Kid's.
"Dear Heyes and Jed,
I meant for this letter to go at the same time as Chrissy's, but she mailed hers quickly. She told me she told you that she's not taking lessons from Roberto anymore and he's not cooking for us either. This letter will explain why.
I must apologize. I thought I was looking after Chrissy, but I was not vigilant enough. I trusted Roberto Malone, our next-door neighbor. It was my idea that Chrissy take art lessons from him. I thought it would help her pass her time. And she turned out to enjoy it and has real talent. Roberto said we would be doing him a favor if we let him cook for us. Jed, you know he's a marvelous cook. And it made life easier for us.
Chrissy wasn't getting enough exercise, and I asked him to take her for an afternoon walk and he agreed…too quickly, I realize in retrospect. As far as I know, he was always a gentleman. And Chrissy is so in love with you, Jed, that she never noticed the little expressions of his feelings for her…or the way he looked at her. And my mind was so full of my work at the school and with Ruth Ann that I didn't pay attention. I'm sorry. You trusted her to me.
I escorted Chrissy to the auction event one evening last week at the school. She was very excited to go, and the setting was exquisite and champagne was served. I was pleased when Roberto learned of the school fundraising auction and donated a painting. It's one of his best, two men sitting at a table in that park down the street playing cards. The trees and flowers are so vibrant that you think you can smell them. But what sets it apart are the weathered looks of friendship on the face of the two men. The people at the auction knew what it was worth. The bidding was fierce and generous.
After the painting was sold, the headmaster announced it was the highest bid of any item ever auctioned for the school. Everyone stood and cheered, including Chrissy and me. She was standing next to Roberto. In the excitement, Roberto grabbed Chrissy into his arms and gave her a long passionate kiss on the lips. She pushed him away, slapped his face, and retreated into herself. The look on her face showed her surprise, confusion and horror.
Everyone around them stopped and watched. Roberto left the event quickly. Chrissy froze, staring at something on a blank wall. I hurried to her and was able to lead her out of the main room into an empty alcove. She wasn't hearing anything around her. We had walked here with Roberto, but I knew she couldn't walk home so I borrowed a buggy. Once home, I did what you do, Jed. I sat her down, knelt in front of her, took her hands in mine, and talked to her. After about ten minutes, she blinked twice and really looked at me.
"Oh, Dr. Arden, why did he do that?" she asked me through tears. "I thought he was my friend."
I calmed her down. The next morning, I went next door and banged on Mr. Malone's door. His only excuse was that he was drunk. He didn't seem sorry. I let him know that he was no longer Chrissy's art teacher, and his cooking skills were no longer needed. In fact, he is no longer welcome in our house. He showed little remorse, just repeated he was drunk and did what he wanted to do from the first time he saw her. I reminded him she was married, happily married.
She has refused to leave the house, although she did walk to the school with me to have lunch with Ruth Ann. On the way home, we stopped and got her a sketchbook and a book on drawing. She seems content with that and with staying home. Her friend, Clem, came to go to lunch with her but Chrissy insisted that morning that I have food delivered from the diner. They ate and visited here. I'm glad Chrossy had another woman to confide in. Still she only leaves the house to walk with me to Ruth Ann's school.
I'm not sure how much of this she told you. She said she did tell you she gave permission for Ruth Ann to stay here three more days for evaluation. The school has never worked with a child this young.
Jed, she told me she wrote you to come sooner. If you could, I think that is a good idea. She's fine physically – she's healthy and her condition is progressing with the only worry that some of her dresses are getting tighter. She spends her time drawing and allows me to see them each evening. Even without her teacher, I can see the improvement in her work.
Again, I apologize. I never saw Roberto as anything but a positive influence in our lives.
Sincerely,
Aiden"
When I finished reading, the Kid was quiet with his fingers templed in front of his face. I needed to know what he was thinking. "Kid?"
He looked up at me suddenly and I couldn't read the look in his blue eyes. I think that's because he was still processing the letter. "Kid, what are you thinking?"
"Glad that I'm leavin' tomorrow for Denver. I need to be with her," he answered.
"How are you feeling about Roberto?" I probed. I needed to find out if the depression I've seen him fight the last two weeks is winning or losing. And if his temper is boiling just below the surface. He's more in control of that temper since he got out of prison but it does show itself sometimes.
He sighed. "Thinkin' that it's a good thing I wasn't at that auction, or he'd be dead, and I'd be standing trial for his murder." I heard a trace of humor in his voice, but his eyes were serious.
"Chrissy just thought they were friends," I told him.
Nodding, he answered, "Told you she's been sheltered all her life. She has male friends here who are just that, friends, or in your case, family. She couldn't tell the difference."
I let him think for a few minutes before I pointed to the whiskey on the shelf. "Drink?"
"No, kinda lost the taste for it in prison."
"You going to see Roberto when you go to Denver?" I asked.
"Not if he stays out of our way. Aiden's letter said he hasn't seen him. I kinda feel sorry for him," the Kid answered.
"Sorry?" I asked, surprised.
"Yeah, he's alone and finally finds a woman who shares his passion for paintin' and falls in love with her, but she's..." he hesitated. Then with a pleased smile, continued, "She's deeply in love with her husband and he's an ex-outlaw known as the fastest gun in the West."
He laughed. I laughed. He'd told me before how gingerly Roberto had held his gun and admired it…and had admitted later to have read the Kid Curry and Hannibal Heyes dime novels and idolized them as men of the west.
"Haven't heard you brag about the title since before we went to prison," I said, still laughing.
"Ain't proud of it, but I know Roberto won't challenge me."
"He wouldn't anyway. Chrissy made her feelings felt in a very public way. Always told you she loved you, Kid," I told him.
"Still, Heyes, I was serious. If Chrissy wants to live in a big city and not on a ranch, I'm going to make it happen. Blacksmiths can find work anywhere," he said, suddenly serious.
Inside I panicked, but I turned away and spent all my energy controlling the expression on my face. I know the Kid is serious, but I also think that Chrissy loves it here. "Kid, I asked Angie if she liked living here, if there was something she missed doing, some dream she lost," I confessed. I'm thinking maybe Chrissy would enjoy what Angie suggested.
"You did? What did she say?"
"She missed dancing, church socials, neighbors gathering together. Have it on my list to talk to Father Patrick about it. You told me about the people Chrissy talks to on her walks. I think she would like this, too. What do you think? You could tell her about it," I said.
The Kid nodded but suddenly said, "Heyes, you got paper? I need to show you something." He drew quickly and I wasn't sure what it was except for the sun in the sky, but he was very intent on it, so I watched and didn't comment.
"I need to build this…somewhere before Chrissy comes home," he said, turning the paper to face me.
I couldn't help it, I chuckled. "Kid, I see the sun here but the rest?"
"It's a place for Chrissy to paint. I listened to Roberto when he set up their easels on his porch. The position of the mornin' sun is very important," he tried to explain.
I thought for a moment while studying his drawing. "We could add a room off the kitchen door in the back. It gets the morning sun. Let me show it to Vince. He's not fond of carpentry but he might do it for Chrissy. One way or the other, I'll make it happen. Am I right, it's got a roof but the sides are open and these lines here mean it has to be very level?"
"Yeah. When I take Chrissy for a walk, we'll go to the mercantile and buy her an easel and supplies. I'll have it shipped here. I told the owner's cousin there I'd have his belt buckle fixed and bring a few to sell in his store."
He said the last to remind himself, but I asked him anyway. "You have them done?"
"Yeah, ready to go."
JED 'KID' CURRY
This time the train ride to Denver had a different, urgent feel. My wife needed me, and I've always tried to be there for her. This time I knew the way to the Denver School for the Deaf. I'd sent a telegram to Aiden and Chrissy two days ago lettin' them know the arrival time of my train.
Aiden was waitin' outside the gate, and he waved me in. "Chrissy and Ruth Ann are just finishing their lunch together and you can surprise your daughter for dessert. You need to lock your guns in that box by the door."
Standin' in the lunchroom doorway, I looked for my daughter. Many students had parents eatin' with them, but it was quieter than a restaurant and hands were flyin' in sign language at every table.
"Papa!" I heard Ruth Ann yell, as she started runnin' toward me. But Miss Ellen put her arm out and told her, "No, walk," in sign language. And my strong-willed daughter did just that. She walked the rest of the way towards me and then jumped into my arms, kissin' my cheek.
She signed 'down' and then she took my hand, and we walked over to sit with her waitin' ma. Chrissy knew I was comin' and her green eyes sparkled and she smiled widely with her greetin'. "Thank you for coming," she said softly, tappin' my arm as I sat down.
"Would it be out of place here if I kissed you?" I asked with a wink.
She giggled. "Yes, but do it anyway."
ASJ*ASJ
I stayed with Chrissy over a week until it was time for our daughter to come home. We ate lunch with Ruth Ann twice and she came home to visit on the Sunday. It was almost like the honeymoon we never had, time together with no responsibilities. Aiden hired an efficient, older lady to cook for us and do light cleanin'.
The cottage Aiden had rented was in the middle of the block but there were no houses behind us, only a wild hillside. I got up early and practiced shootin' in the backyard at targets I set up in bushes on that hill. After the third day, I caught Roberto watchin' me from his back porch. I couldn't get a clear view of him and he never spoke, but he was there every day after.
Chrissy gathered the eggs and made breakfast and we went on a walk each mornin'. You can see that she's with child now and she tires easily. We don't walk in the direction that Roberto had taken her. We explored the many small shops where a family lived over them. Chrissy was quiet, but I talked to everyone and she listened intently. Per Aiden's instructions, she took a nap when we got back. I laid down next to her and caught up on my readin' and watched her sleep.
In the afternoon, she sat in our backyard and worked on her drawings, but only if I would sit with her. It took me three days before I stopped feelin' guilty about all the work to do in Three Birds. Aiden sat me down and made me see my only responsibility durin' these days was to be with my wife. And I love spendin' time with my wife.
The days were peacefully slow but the time went fast. When Ruth Ann visited on Sunday, Chrissy gave her some paper and let her draw whatever she wanted when she wasn't swingin'. She worked hard on her almost five-year-old version of stick figures of our family…and everyone at Phoenix was in the picture all in a straight line, even Joe and Not Joe and the one puppy we had kept, Baby Joe. We made sure she understood that in three days, after school, we were takin' the train home.
"Doctor, too?" she asked in sign language.
"Yes, doctor, too," Chrissy answered.
That was the plan, but that's not what happened.