Winter's Refuge

Chapter One Hundred Forty-Six

JED 'KID' CURRY

Sheriff Birde locked Heyes outside for tellin' me about me trial. And he said Heyes can't meet with my visitors tomorrow. Then he told me I'm eatin' dinner with them again. I moved to stand up so quickly I jolted the table and toppled the water pitcher. And the ropes cut worse into my leg than the shackles. They remind me that I am a prisoner. I can't speak unless a question is asked of me. I deserve to go to prison. I broke the law…twice. I don't understand what is happenin' around me and now I don't have Heyes to help me work it out.

What was so bad about Heyes tellin' me when my trial is scheduled? Unless it's because it is gonna be here. So they can show off their famous gunman prisoner more publicly. I don't want to be the attraction of a circus. Twice today I have been able to slip the loop holdin' the sheriff's gun off without him noticin'. Me and Heyes got good at pickin' pockets when we were young. This gives me another option.

I hope that Dr. Arden remembers his promise to watch out for Heyes. He's gonna need him.

"Jed, sit down! Forgot how strong you are. Look what you've done!" Sheriff Birde's anger at Heyes spilled over onto me. I looked at the table. My jerk of the center leg has broken some of Mrs. Birde's delicate dishes. She is standin' in the door to the kitchen, her hands to her face.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Birde. I will replace...I mean, someone at Phoenix will replace them for you."

She gave me a hard look. "MR. Curry, didn't I tell you to call me Miss Beverly like you always have?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Then why did you call me Mrs. Birde?" she demanded.

"Ma'am, it ain't right for a convict with no rights to call a lady like you by their first name," I explained, sittin' down carefully like the sheriff told me so I didn't shake the table again.

I thought she was gonna be angry with me, but she looked at her husband. "Frank, this is your fault. Fix it." Abruptly, she turned and went back into the kitchen.

Sheriff Birde looked at Dr. Arden. Neither said anything 'til the sheriff asked me, "Jed, would you like to use the water closet before dinner?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," I answered. He crawled under the table and swore. Feelin' when the ropes were secured to both my ankles again, I started to stand up. And realized what he must be upset about. "Sir, I'm sorry if I bled on your wife's rug."

Sheriff Birde gave me a look I did not understand, but I can't ask him about it because he has not asked me a question. So, I got to my feet, stood straight, looked down, waited, and thought about my options. There aren't many left to me.

"Aiden, you need to come with us and bring your medical bag," the sheriff told him.

"Let's go, Jed," the sheriff said, taking my elbow and pullin' me. I wanted to say I could walk myself. Hurts less that way, but he didn't ask.

Dr. Arden didn't look at me or speak to me when he tried to stop the bleedin' on my ankle. When I jerked the table, I cut my ankle good. Dr. Arden left soon after. I hope he is gonna check on Heyes. I was surprised the sheriff still wanted me to stay for dinner with him and his wife. It was awkward because they both were quiet. I concentrated on eatin' the excellent stew put before me and a roll. I was surprised when Mrs. Birde went into the kitchen. Comin' out with a blueberry pie, she set it in front of me.

"Jed," she emphasized my name when she said it. "Heyes told me you liked pie, so this is for you," she told me.

"Thank you, ma'am," I answered, and I could see that made her mad. She was waitin' for me to pick up the knife she had laid next to the dessert and cut it. But I'm not touchin' that knife.

Sheriff Birde slid the pie closer to himself. "I'll cut the pie."

I think that the Birdes are gonna have a loud disagreement tonight, but I'm not sure exactly why.

ASJ*****ASJ

When I finished my pie, Mrs. Birde gave me another. I said, "Thank you, ma'am. It's delicious."

"Made it special for you," she answered with a smile for me and a harsh look for her husband.

Goin' back down to my prison cell, I waited for Sheriff Birde to ask to help me on the stairs. I could have used his help because one of my socks was blood-soaked and slippery. If he'd looked, I left bloody footprints from the table to the door. He didn't look. He was thinkin' about somethin' else. But he didn't ask if I wanted help and went ahead with a lamp, so I followed him down slowly. Even though I was concentratin' on the steps, I heard Mrs. Birde open the door and thought I recognized the visitor. But on the fourth step down, my foot slid in the bloody sock and went forward, and I sat down abruptly, hittin' my head on a higher stair.

Sheriff Birde put down his lamp and balanced me in a sittin' position before I could slide farther. "I see the blood your foot left on the step. Why didn't you ask me to help you down?"

"I would have, sir, but you didn't ask to help me," I answered, shakin' me head to clear my vision.

"HHurmp," he answered. "Jed Curry, I don't know what to do with you."

There was no question, so I didn't say anything, but heard a familiar voice from the doorway above. "Frank, Kid, you need help there?" asked Sheriff Lom Trevors.

What was Lom doin' here? My fuzzy brain also thought it heard a baby.

Sheriff Birde answered him, "Sure. Glad to see you, Lom. Can you get Jed's shoulders from the back? I'll move the lamp a few steps down. Once we get him to his feet, I'll help him."

"Just have to give Wayne to your wife. She's right here."

I felt Lom's strong hands from the back helpin' me stand. Then Sheriff Birde put his arms under my shoulders. "Jed, I'm going to help you stand up, okay?"

I nodded and my thoughts spun, and I didn't answer. They are clear enough for what I have to do. I leaned heavily on the sheriff to get down the stairs, wrappin' my arm around his waist. We stopped outside my cell, he unlocked it, and helped me to the cot. "Trevors, can you go send for Doc Arden. I'll stay with him. Come right back." And he left me locked in without removin' the bitin' ropes.

There seemed to be more light than just from the lamps. I looked up and the curtains were opened. I wonder why?

"Doctor Oliver thought you would feel better if some natural light came in down here," Sheriff Birde.

Lom was soon comin' back down the stairs. "Good to see you, Kid. How are you?" he asked and drew my attention.

I stood, calmin' the spinnin' in my head, and realized I was startin' to feel better. I looked down before answerin', "I'm fine, sir."

Trevors' voice changed. The friendly greetin' voice was now coldly professional. "Don't think you're so fine. You've been arrested and I'm looking at you through bars."

"Yes, sir," I answered.

I heard a baby cry. Sheriff Trevors must have carried him down. Now he cuddled Wayne close, bringin' him over to my cell. "Heyes wrote me you might need help, so we came right away. We were coming soon anyway. I want you to be Wayne's godfather. And Chrissy and you to adopt him if somethin' happens to me."

I was honored…then angry. "Can't really do that from prison, can I? And you don't want a failure to raise your child. I'm no good to nobody."

He looked stricken but held the baby near the bars. I touched the soft leg that was kickin' out. And I missed my little twins. Even if I only get a minimum sentence, they won't meet me until they're five years old. What I said before still stands - I can't go back there. I'll live someplace nearby where I can protect them. That's one option I'm considerin', but not my first choice, I think.

"Kid, what are the charges against you? Do you have a lawyer? I'll go visit the governor and ask for a pardon. After all, you did save his life…"

"I'm guilty, sir, on two of the three charges. I'll plead guilty for those two. I deserve to go to prison."

"No, you don't. I'll leave for Cheyenne tomorrow."

"Don't bother. And let Preacher know I ain't kept that pact. The monsignor, who preached at us, reminded me of the commandments I've broken and that I have no chance at salvation," he answered, resigned.

"Kid, sit back down. Get your weight off that ankle, take that bloody sock off," he ordered.

But I couldn't with the ropes. I looked at the bed for the first time since I returned. There was a pair of clean long johns there and more socks. Sittin' down, I leaned back against the bars. I'm so very tired. I fell asleep without tryin… and dreamt. They were restless dreams. Heyes was there…and so was Frank…er, Sheriff Birde… and Lom's voice askin' me, "How you plan on doing it, Kid?"

In my dream, I answered him truthfully, "Live by the gun. Die by the gun."

HEYES

I stood outside the Birde's door for a long time. I need to tell Dr. Arden that I think the Kid is thinking about killing himself again. I caught it in his eyes when they were pushing me out of the door. And I need to do as Kid asks and try harder to figure out why all the visitors are comin'. Finally, I got myself together and walked around to the windows in the back. The curtains had been opened! Not now as it is getting dark, but tomorrow morning the Kid will have some sunshine to wake up to. I craved sunshine when I was locked in the dark cell.

Hiding behind a bush next to the house, I looked in the windows. There was movement inside, so I pulled back. Remembering how high the windows were, I doubted anyone inside would look up at them. Anyone but the Kid. I know he stares at them. I looked back in but there was only one lamp lit and someone walking back and forth in the basement. Kid's in the prison cell and was sitting on his cot leanin' against the bars. Was he sleepin'?

Not daring to look in for too long, I sat back and thought. I don't know who is down there. The sheriff is the Kid's friend. So is the doctor. Is that why they let him come upstairs and people talk to him? He'd been doing the positive response thing pretty good. Until Glen was mentioned. Still, he said the right things to Emery, and it ended positively. I hope he gets credit for that. Why are they tryin' him here in Three Birds? And why shouldn't the Kid know where and when so he can hire a lawyer? Unless they aren't going to let him have a lawyer. But then it wouldn't be legal.

I look in the window again and I recognize Lom down there and he's cradling something. No, not something, someone, his baby, Wayne. He must have come because of my letter, but what is he doing waiting down there?

I leaned back against the house again where I could only listen. Just as I heard the cellar door scrape open and the noises of people walking down the stairs, I saw a flash of light as a new lamp was pointed to the windows for a moment.

"Heyes, what are you doing out here again?" From in back of me, Dr. Arden's voice broke my concentration. He bent to look through the windows. "My brother insisted these curtains be opened. Said natural sunlight is important for mental health. Have to say I agree with him."

He knelt next to me and watched Sheriff Birde go into the Kid's cell. Dr. Arden stood up abruptly. "Got to go catch Frank. Heyes, go to my house now. If you're here when I return, I'll have those curtains closed."

"I will. But Doctor, I need to tell you something. I think the Kid will try to kill himself again. All the stories about Three Birds and the deaths of Glen and the bartender and Jeff Birde getting shot were getting to him. I could tell. But when little Emery yelled at him, something inside the Kid gave up."

Dr. Arden stopped moving and gave a big sigh. "That's exactly what the sheriff and I are trying to prevent. I came to the same conclusion when I was talking to Jed. Don't worry, he won't be left alone at all tonight."

"Thank you…but can I see him?" I asked.

"No, not after you told him about the trial," the doctor said firmly. "Miss Denise is keeping your dinner warm…and remember, I don't want to catch you here again."

"I remember." He will not catch me here again, but that doesn't mean I won't be here watching and trying to help the Kid. I'm going to get my dinner from Miss Denise and work on keeping my own demons contained. That's what the Kid would want me to do.

JED 'KID' CURRY

I woke abruptly when the door above opened. I didn't see Lom. Was he even here? Had I dreamed him? Did I dream at all? Sheriff Birde was on the stairs with a bucket and mop. He was cleanin' up the blood I had left on the steps. My fall was accidental, but it allowed me to get what I needed. I can't hide it anywhere in this cell, but I can reach the brick wall through the bars. Just like in the forge, I managed to pull one brick out. I could just barely reach the dirt behind it and dig enough to make a hidin' place and put it in there. When I replaced the brick, it was not even with the other, but I doubted anyone would notice in the shadows. Now I am prepared, if I choose that option. I can reach it easily from my cot. I think I will.

Someone followed Birde downstairs carryin' two more buckets. I had hoped it was Heyes, but it was Father Patrick. I stood up and looked down.

"Here, let me help you with that." Lom came out of the shadows beneath the stairs.

Was he there all the time? Had he seen me make my hidin' place?

"Jed, move back, "the Sheriff ordered.

"Yes, sir." I moved to the far corner. Father Patrick set the two buckets of water by my cot.

The sheriff stood very close to me, almost touchin' my chest, lookin' me in the eyes. It made me uncomfortable, so I looked away. I could tell he was angry, but when I looked back, I saw concern. "Jed, what are you thinking right this minute?"

I wasn't gonna answer, but he did ask me a question. I was angry and confused. I looked up and caught movement at the high windows. Heyes must be there. I wasn't sure if I was glad or sad about that. I didn't want him watchin' if...if…"

"Jed, I asked you what you were thinking?' demanded Sheriff Birde, still in my face.

I heard the door scrape open. A prisoner shouldn't get mad and yell at his guard but I'm about to. Father Patrick, Lom, and the doctor will all be listenin'. Can Heyes hear through the glass of the window? If not, he'll watch.

LOM

The Kid's eyes were cold, emotionless, but I knew he was frustrated or maybe angry. Frank pushed him into it.

The Kid pushed Frank away from him hard, watching him stumble back.

"You want to know what I'm thinkin'? I'm wonderin' what goin' on here. Are you showin' off your prized catch, the legendary Kid Curry? You sure are paradin' me out in front of a lot of people. You sellin' tickets for my trial?" the Kid exploded.

I've seen him angry before, and it always showed in his blue eyes, but not now. Now I saw despair.

"You want me to take the responsibility for what happened here in Three Birds? I do. It was my fault. I could have stopped it. Stopped the deaths, the injuries, the destruction." He pointed at Father Patrick. "There's a sin I didn't confess to you. Failin' everyone - my family, my friends, my town. Not sure which commandments I broke with that, but I don't think there's any forgiveness when that many people are involved."

This was despair and depression talking. It must have been growing inside himself for years. But he has always been the strong one, the protector, the friend always willing to help. The first one we called when we needed help. And we all expected him to always be that for us.

Frank stepped up to him again. "Jed, we're trying to help you."

"HELP me? Don't see how. Unless you think the tearin' up my ankles is a way to get them used to shackles in prison."

I hadn't noticed when Dr. Arden joined us, but he approached the cell now and spoke. "Jed, listen to me. You are not being paraded around. The visitors were all your friends, friends that you've helped. Every one of them cares for you."

The Kid turned away.

"Jed, what I am hearing from you is the depression coming out with your negative self-image. That's only in your mind. That's not what people think of you. I know you don't like the word, but people see you as a hero BECAUSE that's what you've proved yourself to be. We're trying to make you see that."

His words had no effect on the Kid. He was starin' at the wall, then he exploded again. "And why have you been so good to me? Clean clothes every day, books, good food and lots of it, dinner with your family, medical care, a cot, stacks of blankets and quilts. I DON'T UNDERSTAND. Are you tryin' to show me the things I won't have in prison, so I miss them more?" He sat down on his cot hard and put his head in his hand while reaching back to do what I thought was pull a quilt over him. But it wasn't the quilt he was reaching for.

Wayne cried from upstairs. We all looked in his direction and when we turned around the Kid had a gun, and he was pointing it at his head.

"That's my gun," Frank said.

Dr. Arden spoke first. "Jed, you don't want to do this." He started, holding his hands palm toward the Kid. "Think of Chrissy and your kids."

"They'll be better off without me. I've made the name Curry dirty, the same as a gunfighter. Michael and Martha have already been in fights over it. And I hear the talk behind my back that stolen outlaw money bought and built Phoenix," he answered, but his voice seemed far away.

I answered, "You know better than that, Kid. I bought Phoenix with the profits from Chrissy's trust. She made me the trustee when she went to prison. We can let people know that." I was grasping at straws. This is what he meant earlier when he was half dreaming and said, "Live by the gun, die by the gun."

It made me nervous that his hand was steady holding the gun against his temple.

"Lom, I've failed everyone I cared about. I'm what they think I am - an outlaw, a gunfighter, and soon to be a convict again. I'm nothin' and I can't embarrass them more by goin' back to prison. There is no other way. And I heard the click of the gun and saw his finger pull the trigger.