Winter's Refuge
Chapter One Hundred Eighty-Four
JED 'KID' CURRY
Seemed like everyone needed help and Jeff Birde was there organizin' it all. But I could tell Aiden was watchin' him closely. Just a few hours ago, Jeff was trapped in his mercantile.
Aiden definitely relaxed a little when his brother, Dr. Oliver, arrived. Neither of these city-bred doctors mind rollin' up their sleeves and workin' hard. And the injured kept arrivin'.
Thank goodness my thigh and ankles have healed. I lifted the hurt out of wagons and buggies and off horses and carried them into our makeshift hospital and laid them on cots for the Arden brothers to treat.
Everyone was callin' me to help. There were wagons to help unload, downed trees to move to where a group of men were choppin' them into firewood, and the tearin' down of leanin' walls and collapsed roofs. I don't know how long I worked when I noticed Juan drivin' a full wagon into town. I waved him over to stop in front of the hospital.
"Jed, these people are all hurt. Like you asked, I stopped at a few of the farms on the sideroads. Every crop I saw was lying flat on the ground," he said, as he tied off the wagon. He leaned in and lifted a lady with a bloody bandage on her back and shoulder out of the wagon. I moved to carry her inside and Juan reached to help another injured person out of the wagon.
"Aiden, incomin' wounded!" I yelled.
"Got empty cots over here, Jed." Miss Denise pointed to the corner. "How many do you have?"
"A wagonful," I answered. I gently laid the lady on the nearest cot.
"Thank you, Mr. Curry," she said.
"You're welcome, ma'am," I answered, makin' sure she was on her side and her injured back didn't touch the cot. I must have looked confused. I don't ever remember meetin' her before, but she knew my name.
Smilin' a small smile, she said, "Don't look so confused. You don't know me. I'm Bernadette Elowitt. Me and my husband have our home about four miles off the main road. Everyone knows our town council president Jed 'Kid' Curry, sir."
I was glad when Aiden leaned over her and pushed me out of the way. I hurried to help Juan get more of the injured moved inside.
"How many places did you stop, Juan?" I asked, as I picked up two cryin' toddlers.
"Just four farms…but there ain't farms there anymore. I only brought the injured. Do you have room for their families?" Juan asked.
"We'll make room. You check the two homesteads on the other side of Phoenix?" I asked.
"Not yet," Juan answered.
I looked around. Everyone was movin' with one purpose to help. "I'll ride up there and check on them. Want to stop by home and see what Colin… er, Mr. Apperson is doin'." I was worried about Rocky. I hoped Colin understood and approved Rocky's sleepin' arrangements. "I'll be quick about it. You take the wagon, go back, and see if those families want to come to town. Take Chris Birde with you. He just asked me how he can help."
HEYES
Apperson surprised me. He is a city boy. I remember his store-bought outlaw outfit he bought to go to Devil's Hole with us. I laughed as I remembered how me and the Kid 'dirtied' him up in the water trough. Now he went into the house with his bag. I can't believe he would want us to take the time to entertain him as a guest at a time like this. But he didn't. He came out changed into those same clothes he wore to Devil's Hole. They'd been washed and ironed, but it wasn't one of his city suits that he usually wears.
"Heyes, where can I help?" he asked. That surprised me, but he seemed willing to help.
"Rocky could use some help getting the pieces of the roof out of the barn, but it's dirty work and…" I started.
"Just point me in the right direction," he answered.
"In there," I indicated, the open barn doors hanging askew since the roof wasn't there to stabilize them.
Rocky had just convinced Nettie that she needed to nap and asked if Vince could help him. But Vince was rebuilding the chicken coop…and it was looking better than it ever had. That man is a talented carpenter whether he likes it or not. So now I was sending Apperson in to help Rocky…odd matching, I knew, but I don't have a lot of people to help.
And that's where they were when the Kid came riding in on Winter's Glory. I'd been working on moving what I could salvage from our demolished bedroom. I'd just found our antique dresser that had fallen on Angie. Sideways, all the drawers seem to still be there, but with the debris now piled against them they wouldn't open. I tried to stand it up, but it wouldn't budge.
"Let me help," the Kid startled me from behind.
"This is the dresser I lifted to free Angie and now I can't even slide it a bit," I told him.
"I've learned that when someone I love is in trouble, I can lift mountains. I know I threw a tree off of Rocky and your kids last night that I probably could only drag today. You tryin' to take this outside?"
"Yeah, maybe it's salvageable and I want to see if Angie's clothes and maybe some of mine are still inside," I told him truthfully.
"Heyes, take anything of mine you need and I'm sure Chrissy will share with Angie. You get near the top and I'll take the bottom. Lift on three and four steps to your right and we'll be outside," he finished bending over. "One, two, three, lift."
It was still heavy, but I was amazed at the amount of weight that the Kid was lifting. We lifted it just higher than the muck that was making it slippery. "Now four steps right," he said, breathing heavily.
And then we were outside with my dresser standing upright between us. He opened a drawer and shut it quickly. "Don't tell Angie I saw her underwear," he said with a wink.
"Thanks, Kid," I said.
He just nodded. "Colin still here?"
"Working in the barn with Rocky. Ken had a talk with Colin – phrased it all nice and all about what happened and what Rocky did. Apperson said no need for shackles anymore."
"Really?" asked Kid. Then he looked toward the barn. "Colin and Rocky workin' together…How's that goin'?"
"Haven't heard any loud voices," I said with a grin. "Go find out. Oh, did the tornado hit Three Birds?" I asked.
I hadn't noticed Apperson and Rocky, Ken and Vince gathering in back of us listening. The Kid told us some of what happened, about the Pokoras, and about Jeff getting trapped, and about all the injured in the makeshift hospital.
"I just stopped to make sure things were alright here. Goin' to check the Lark and Fernandez homesteads on the road toward Bridgeport. Juan has a few more he's gonna check, too," the Kid answered as he sighed. "Been a long day."
"Hello, Jed," Apperson said, and we turned and saw the men in back of us. "We were listening to what happened in Three Birds. Never saw anything like it. May I come with you to check those homesteads you mentioned? Maybe I can help?"
I looked at Apperson with his clothes dirty and stained from the work he was doing. He was wearing an old pair of gloves. And I nodded to the Kid. Might be good for him to see this.
"Expectin' the Fernandez home's too far north to be in the tornado's path, but it's closer so I'll go there first. Since we were hit, the Larks, east of us, might have been, too. Might be hard to see, Colin. Not sure that you've seen nature's wrath like this before," the Kid explained, watching Apperson's face closely. The Kid can read people pretty well.
"I want to help," Apperson said simply.
JED 'KID' CURRY
Relieved that Apperson had changed Rocky's parole conditions so that he would not be shackled, I was nervous that he was comin' with me. We were headin' to the Fernandez's home first. It's north and closer, but I'm hopin' they were spared. I think the tornado came at us from just east of them. And I was worried that Colin would ask how Rocky got out of his shackles when the tornado hit. Heyes had told me exactly what Ken had said. He was clever.
Colin was ridin' gentle Spring's Promise and I was on Winter's Glory. We rode side by side in silence on the road toward Bridgeport. Tornados are mercurial. (Have to tell Heyes I know that word from readin'. I never have time to read anything but children's books now.) It touched down and took out the Curry Road sign by the main road, but left the smithy, library, Ken's shoe store, and Mary's dress shop untouched. Fuller's Barber Shop was destroyed. That buildin' is empty. The family voted to tear it down, but I hadn't got around to doin' that. The tornado did that for us.
Colin's expression was stern as he saw the destruction the tornado had done to the trees on our left. There was a stretch that every tree, large and small, was uprooted, many fallin' in different directions and against each other, creatin' a tangled mess that only nature could create. Beyond that on the same side of the road, you wouldn't have known there had been anything more than a strong wind. The turnout to the Fernandez place was untouched. Their house was about two miles off the main road, and it looked normal. Mrs. Fernandez was hangin' out laundry and their youngest one, about five, was tryin' to help her.
"Mr. Curry, how nice to see you," she said. "What brings you out this way?"
"Tornado went through here last night. Just checkin' that you folks are alright," I answered.
"Oh my! We had hard rain and some wind but that's all. I had no idea. Is anyone hurt? I can call Hector and the boys in from the fields to help, if you need them." She wiped her hands on her apron as she talked.
I could see them in the field in the distance and a flashback to the Kansas of my youth and my pa and brothers crossed my thoughts. I told her a short version of what happened in town as I walked to the water pump and used the tin cup there to get a drink of water. I offered some to Colin, who declined. I finished with, "The ladies in town might need some help feedin' all the families there now. Maybe you could help with that?"
"Perfect. Count on us to bring some dishes to town tomorrow. Where are you headin' now?"
"The Lark homestead," I answered.
"I'll pray that it missed them, too," Mrs. Fernandez finished.
ASJ*ASJ
As we rode away, Colin asked, "Everyone around here know you, Jed?"
"Most people at least know me and Heyes' names. They tried to make us heroes after we cleared Shaw and his gang out of Three Birds."
"Well deserved," he answered. Then he looked concerned. "How are you doing, Jed?"
It's a simple question, but Colin knows me…knows what I almost did. I sat up straight before I answered, "I'm well, Colin. Right now, my focus is to take care of my family and find anyone around here that needs help." That was as honest an answer as I could give him.
He's been a friend to me and my family, but I remember him standin' by in the Wyoming Territorial Prison while the warden whipped me, and the guards miscounted the lashes and sayin' nothin'. He's apologized, still somewhere in my mind there's a block when I try to think of him as a close friend.
There was a smaller road east that I knew to the Lark's. I got worried as we got closer. We had to ride around downed trees and uprooted bushes.
"Jed?" asked Colin, as a smashed outhouse blocked our horses next to what looked like a barn door.
"Watch where your horse is steppin'," I told him. The road appeared to be covered with wet leaves. "The debris and leaves are thick. Might be there's somethin' or someone buried."
"Jed, stop!" he said.
Doin' as he asked, I heard what he must have heard, cryin'. Dismountin' slowly, I sank up to my ankles in the mud and muck. I looked down, closin' my eyes and listened. And I heard muffled cries again.
"Hello, this is Jed Curry. Can you talk to me or move so I can find you?" I asked. I couldn't tell if the cries were from a man or woman, adult or child, just that they were cries of despair.
Me and Colin were quiet. He was still sittin' on Spring's Promise, lookin' lost.
A weak voice said, "Here. We're here by something heavy, a tree, I think. Not much room to breathe."
Not bein' able to figure where the voice came from, I looked at Colin. He shook his head.
"I can hear you. Lots of downed trees around here. Can you move somethin' so I can find you?"
Again, we were silent…and didn't hear the voice or see movement. I moved toward the nearest tree. It was slow movin' as the muck grabbed and released my ankles with each step. And I thought I caught a glimpse of gingham. I took another tentative step forward and my foot sunk until the muddy debris was halfway to my knee. But this time I was sure that foot was on solid ground. I could almost reach the gingham bonnet. Yes, it's the back of the top of a bonnet. I moved my back foot and allowed it to sink without fightin' the feelin', knowin' the ground was solid a few inches down.
I could tell whoever this was facin' a downed tree. Softly, I touched the back of the bonnet…and felt the person startle.
Then the cryin' voice," I feel you. Can't move. Have some air near tree. Holdin' ma's hand. Please help. Please!"
Without lookin' back, I called, "Colin, I need your help. There's sold ground about twelve inches down." I didn't hear him move. "Colin?" I said. I didn't want to take my eyes off of the bonnet but turned slightly. He was stopped in mid-dismount from his horse.
"Jed, don't know if I can," he said. And I heard the depth of his fear in his voice.
"Found a girl and her ma. Can't get them out alone."
"I'm scared."
"Colin, get off the horse and get over here or they may die. I need your help. You can be scared when it's over," I said. It was somethin' Heyes had told me when we were little and I had fallen into a stream. "Jed, you can be scared later."
I saw motion and knew Colin was off of Spring's Promise. "Now make a wide circle around me. Slow deliberate steps," I told him.
When he passed me, I could see him. He looked up from his feet and at me and promptly lost his balance and sat on his bottom, his arms raised about the murky thick debris. "Oh!"
"Reach down and touch the ground. Use your hands to help you get back on your feet," I told him.
"Can't. It's pulling at me. Help me!" he pleaded.
"Colin, need you to help yourself. Use your hands to help you get back on your feet. You're covered in mud so your clothes are real heavy now, but you can stand." I needed him to stand. I needed him to dig on the other side of the tree while I dug the girl out.
I heard a deep breath and heard the suckin' noise as the mud gave way and he stood up. He took slow tentative steps forward, slidin' his feet.
"Darlin' are you still holdin' your ma's hand?" I asked the back of the bonnet. And saw it nod slightly.
"Need more air." Her voice was gettin' fainter.
"I'm gonna reach down and try to lift you under your arms," I said.
"Left leg...caught…something," she gasped.
"Colin, gonna try and get her leg free, then lift her. She's holdin' her ma's hand. You grab the ma and lift her when I do," I explained.
I reached in next to the girl and found her leg…under somethin' wooden. I pushed it aside. "Okay, Colin, liftin' on three. One. Two. Three."
Pullin' sharply, I felt the thick clingy muck slowly give way. I almost fell back when she came loose.
She clung to my neck, gaspin' for air through her tears. "Ma?"
Colin was strugglin' to pull a woman to her feet. I saw that her head and shoulders were free…but she wasn't movin'.
Slowly, I carried the girl, I figured no older than Martha, to Winter's Glory. "Darlin, I'm sittin' you on my horse. His name is Winter's Glory, and he'll stay real still." Clingin' to the saddle horn, she tried to wipe mud from the side of her face. After handin' her my relatively clean bandana, I moved to help Colin.
He hadn't moved. He was holdin' the lady's head and shoulders above the layer of mud and leaves, but he hadn't raised it any higher than the last time I saw him and had a look of horror on his face.
"Colin?"
Whisperin' he told me, "Jed, I think she's…she's gone."
Lookin' back at the young girl with the tenacious hold to Winter's Glory, my heart broke but I kept emotion from my face. Pickin' up the dead woman in my arms, I told Colin, "Lead Winter's Glory to the Lark house. Just follow this road. Stay to the far side. It's clearer there. Not sure how far, but the girl will know. I'll follow with her ma and Spring's Promise."
It took almost half an hour for our procession to come into view of the white picket fence in front of the Lark house. The fence was there, but the front of the house fell victim to the tornado. Mr. Lark ran to Colin and his daughter.
"Delia, oh Delia!" Tears flowed as he reached up for her.
"Pa!" His daughter fell into his arms.
"We've been looking all over for you, Delly. Thank you, sir," Mr. Lark said. And then he looked over her shoulder and saw me…and the body of his wife. I shook my head. He carried Delia through the wreckage of the front room and the missin' kitchen. Colin followed. I looked around to figure where to lead Spring's Promise. But Mr. Lark came right back outside.
"Your friend is sitting with Delia. I can't thank you enough for finding them…but our youngest daughter…she's missin', too," he said sadly. He led the horse to the side entrance of the house and slipped the body of his wife into his arms. I followed him into a dark study and watched him lay her on the small couch, fold her hands on her chest, kiss her lips, and cover her with a quilt. "I'll grieve later. I need to find Patty Jean. My boys are searching down by the river. Will you take me to where you found them?" he asked.
As we walked slowly back to the place we found them, I learned his two daughters had been sick with the grippe and his wife had been nursin' them in the livin' room that night when the tornado tore the roof and the front of their house. By the time he and his sons had got there, all they saw were the embroidered chairs that sat by the fire whirlin' away…and all three of his girls were gone. I told him how Delia had still been holdin' her ma's hand when we found them. When we were walkin' the horses, I was just concentratin' on our steps, so the horses didn't trip. Now I walked slower, searchin' for any sign of the missin' little girl.
And then there she was sittin' on a log about twenty feet off the road. "Papa!" she yelled, and he scooped her into his arms. "The wind took Ma and Delly, and I ran after them, but I couldn't keep up and got lost," she said.
"What a brave girl you must be Patty Jean," I told her.
ASJ*ASJ
Me and Colin stayed at the house with Delia and Patty Jean while Mr. Lark went and found his three sons…and broke the news, tragic and happy, to them. When we left, as we turned onto the main road, I turned to my silent ridin' companion. "Colin, you alright?"
"I never touched a dead person before," he told me. "Glad the little girls survived. Do you think the Larks will be alright?"
"They'll survive. All of us neighbors will see to that and help them rebuild. But there ain't nothin' we can do about the memories," I answered.
