WINTER'S REFUGE

by Kattayl

Every author writes a Curry and Heyes prison story. This is mine.

60. Winter's Refuge Chapter 60

Winter's Refuge

Chapter Sixty

Jed 'Kid' Curry

I waited until Chrissy and our daughter were asleep and tried to get up quietly. Joe had ended up sleeping on the rug on my side of the bed. Chrissy had him lay there and told Martha the bed was crowded already.

When I put my feet on the ground, Joe raised his head and rolled his eyes. "Shh, boy, watch over my girls." He must have known what I said because he put his head back down and didn't follow me.

Tryin' to be quiet, I went downstairs. Aiden and Colin were sharin' my old bedroom. But Aiden wasn't in their room. He was sittin' at our kitchen table with a cup of coffee, readin' a medical journal and taking notes. Two other journals were open in front of him. Now I know why one of his bags was so heavy.

"Knew one of you two would be down here soon to relieve him." Aiden nodded toward Michael. "Glad it's you. Chrissy needs her rest."

Heyes was asleep, sittin' beside my son, holdin' his hand. There was a book on his lap that must have slipped from his other hand when he fell asleep.

"Want some coffee? I heated up what was left in the pot." Aiden spoke quietly.

He must have seen me lookin' at the journals, because he added, "Grabbed a few to bring from my office. Trying to read everything I can on children's head wounds and their broken arms. Just confirmed my belief that that cocoon Sexton had Michael wrapped in would have done him more harm than good. It's what they would have done thirty years ago. A break like your son's, where you can feel that the bones are lined up, does well with a cast like this and allows him to stay relatively active enough that his young muscles continue to develop. Still needs to get a lot of rest. That cast is heavy to carry around, but I think in a week you'll be struggling to keep him quiet."

"Aiden, how can I thank you?" I asked him.

"By saying thank you and letting me help you, my friend. From what I saw at the livery, you have a problem accepting help."

I nodded. "Only person I ever had to help me was Heyes and he was always there for me as long as I can remember. Never had to ask. 'Course when we was little, it was usually Heyes that got me into trouble in the first place."

Aiden smiled at me. "I was the youngest one, too. But my brothers would never think of getting me in trouble. They never got into a speck of trouble themselves. My father would never allow it."

I poured myself a cup of the lukewarm coffee. "Guess growin' up on a farm in Kansas and growin' up a doctor's son in the East are very different."

"Well, Jed, I hope this doctor's son is as good a man as the farmer's son in front of me."

I was about to object, then realized he was teachin' me to accept a compliment. He smiled again when I simply said, "I'm sure he is."

I took my coffee and went into the livin' room. I touched Heyes on his shoulder and quickly put my finger to his lips. Anyone who's been in prison always has the nightmare of bein' woken up by the guards and dragged out to be beaten for somethin' they might never know. Fear flashed in Heyes eyes but died quickly. It was the only way I could think to wake him and not Michael.

I nodded with my head toward his bedroom. Standin', he stretched, then bent over and kissed Michael's hair. He handed me the book. "He fell asleep on page thirty-four," he whispered. He nodded to the doctor and walked slowly to his room.

The chair he had been sittin' in was still warm when I sat down. I bent forward and felt Michael's forehead for fever. Aiden said there was a chance he could develop one, but he was cool. He opened his eyes. "Papa," he said sleepily, tryin' to turn on his side.

"Not yet, son; you need to stay on your back with that cast."

"Don't like it…itches."

Aiden was next to me and listened to Michael's heart and put his hand on the back of his neck. I knew he usually checked for fever there. "Would you rather I wrapped you all up like a present again like Dr. Sexton?"

"No, Doctor!" Michael answered firmly.

"It's a little early, but since you're awake, I'll give you your pain medicine. How does your head feel?"

"Hurts on the outside but not the inside," Michael said after some thought.

"That's a good way to put it, young man. Don't think I've ever heard it said that way."

Michael smiled but it didn't quite reach his eyes and I knew he was still hurtin'. "Want Papa to give me my medicine."

ASJ*****ASJ

Chrissy woke me up just before dawn with a smile. She showed me Aiden asleep at the kitchen table, head down in the journal he was readin'. "I wake him?" she asked.

"No, I'll do that and send him to bed. Colin needs to be up soon to catch the mornin' stage and I want to get in some shootin' practice as soon as the sun lets me see."

"Jed need sleep," Chrissy said firmly.

"Slept enough, some in bed with you and Martha and some in that chair."

Aiden looked startled when I touched his shoulder and called his name softly so as not to waken Michael. He recovered quickly and shook his head. The fear I saw in Heyes' eyes when startled awake was not echoed in Aiden's. He wasn't an ex-convict.

ASJ*****ASJ

When I came back to the house after practice, Mrs. Clark was fussin' over breakfast tryin' to sort all the food we still had left into what was still good and what was spoiled.

"Ahh, Jedediah, those young Birde boys showed up right after sunrise and milked the cow and collected the eggs. Even gave Summer Solstice her special pregnancy oats and fresh hay. Would you call them in for breakfast? I know they've got to get to school by nine."

Chrissy was tryin' to give Michael his next dose of pain medicine, but he was bein' stubborn. "NO, I want Papa to give it to me. Only Papa!"

I took the spoon from Chrissy. "Open your mouth very wide," I told him and put the spoon into his mouth and quickly handed him a glass of milk with honey. "I know it tastes terrible, but you were a very good boy to take it," I said as he drank the sweet drink. "Next time you need to let Mama or Mrs. Clark give it to you."

"No, only Papa."

"I have to work in the blacksmith shop this mornin', but I'll give you your afternoon dose. Mama will give it to you later this mornin'."

"No, only Papa." He started to cry. I can't stand my kid's tears. I want their lives to be happy.

"Four hours," Chrissy warned me.

"Michael, I'll try but if I'm not here, promise me you'll let someone else give it to you."

The stubbornness of a five-year-old showed in his face with the bandage on his forehead. "NO, only Papa."

ASJ*****ASJ

Chrissy came down to the blacksmith shop with me this morning while Ken drove Colin into Three Birds in the doctor's buggy to catch the mornin' stage. Heyes took care of the horses and Martha trailed him to the stable. Aiden had slept through breakfast. Mrs. Clark had left his books open and his notes untouched. I ate standin' up and the Birde boys took their food to the outside table. The others crowded around the end of the table.

Mrs. Clark was sittin' with Michael when we left. "It's my turn to sit with the dear boy. I sat with him through the measles, the flu and a bad cold every winter," she said, almost pushin' us out the front door.

Chrissy took my arm as we walked to shop but she took it out to find her handkerchief and dap at her eyes.

"Darlin'?"

The sadness in her eyes tore at my heart. "Chrissy darlin' and Jed miss so much of our babies lives. They sick; we not there."

I don't think she meant to, but Mrs. Clark's words hurt me in the same way. I said the only thin' that came to mind. "We will never let that happen again and this new little one, well we can't spoil them with money, but we can spoil all three of them with our time."

Chrissy held my arm tighter with both hands. "Good."

ASJ*****ASJ

Business was still light at the smithy, but everybody there needed somethin' done right away. Chrissy checked in the horses to be shoed. Most asked her about her son, but she was emotional about Michael and couldn't answer. The people in my line asked me, too. I just said, "Improvin', thanks for askin'."

Chrissy went back to the house to see that Michael got his next dose of medicine. I put two sides of the smithy down to keep the cold wind out. Was workin' on a new handle for a shovel when I heard a familiar voice.

"Hey, Jed!"

I recognized that voice. "Juan, welcome back my friend!" I tried to wipe the black off my hand onto my apron before I offered it to him. But my attention went to the beautiful mare he was ridin'. He had another tethered to follow him.

Instead of shakin' his hand, I rubbed the side of the sleek black horse he was ridin'. "She's a beauty!"

Juan smiled. "Pa sent these two beautiful ladies to you to help you build your stock. We think both of them are pregnant by Fall's Destiny. A thank you for…well you know."

I couldn't take my eyes off the mares. I smiled. "He didn't need to do anything, but no way I'm goin' turn down these ladies."

"Thought you'd feel that way. Their names are Summer's Night – that's this black one – and Fall's Snowdance. Pa knows we were going to keep the lines separate going forward but wanted to send you something you'd appreciate." He dismounted.

"Well, I sure admire these ladies and I appreciate his son comin' back to work for me."

"Glad you feel that way! Er, Jed, you hear anything about Hortencia Birde? She still at that fancy school in Denver?"

"Heard her pa say she'll be home in two weeks, Juan. Can't wait for Chrissy and Heyes to see these horses. I'll walk to the stables with you."

ASJ*****ASJ

Fall's Snowdance was as high spirited as Summer's Night was calm. She danced into our corral. Ken, trailed by Martha, came out to meet us when they heard the noise of the gate.

"Papa, new horses! How pretty!" Martha whizzed by me towards the new mare, climbin' through the slats of the fence. Her quick movements upset Fall's Snowdance, who neighed loudly and became restless, kickin' out at the fence near her.

I didn't know I could move that fast, but with one hand on the top of the fence I lifted my legs over. Landin' near the horse, I grabbed Martha in full stride. NotJoe wasn't far, his barkin' forcin' the mare away from my daughter.

"Papa, wanted to pet the pretty horsey. I have a carrot for her," Martha said in a child's innocence, showin' me the bedraggled carrot that had probably been in her pocket all morning.

My heart was beatin' so fast I couldn't answer her, but I hugged her close. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, tryin' to get the vision of what might have been out of my mind.

"Papa, put me down. Can't breathe. I want to see the new horses," she said wigglin' to be put down. Instead, Heyes took her from me. He must have seen what happened from inside the stable.

He put her down but kept a firm grip on her hand. "Martha, we need to go for a walk and talk."

"Uncle Heyes, want to pet pretty new horses," she pleaded.

"They won't be going nowhere. You can see them later. But we need to talk first." They walked towards the stream, Martha lookin' back over her shoulder at our new horses.

HEYES

She's so quick, it almost happened again. Martha and Michael haven't been raised around horses and they have a lot to learn. She almost ran right into the new mare's back hoof in her enthusiasm to touch her. I've never seen the Kid move so fast. He flew over that fence and had her in his arms before I could blink and call out a warning.

We walked, or more I pulled her gently along. Her head was turned, focused on what we were leaving behind, the new mares. When we got to the stream, I sat on a log and pulled her on my lap.

"Martha, do you know what you did to scare your papa so?" I asked her. I tried to keep the fear I had felt out of my voice.

"No, I just wanted to give this carrot to the new black horsey. She very pretty, like Black Beauty."

"Yes, she is. What was the horse doing?"

"Oh, Uncle Heyes, she was dancing about lifting her feet high in the air. She was very happy."

"Why do you think she was happy?"

"'Cause she was dancing to come here. Michael and I dance when we're happy."

I knew I would have to explain this another way. I didn't want her to be afraid of the horses, but have a healthy respect for how they might hurt her by accident.

"Show me how she was dancing."

Martha got off my lap and jumped wildly, kicking out her legs and arms with a youthful abandon that almost made me smile. But she needs to understand that this is serious. Laughing, she spun and hit my leg with one of her arms.

"Oww!" I said, pretending to be hurt.

Concern on her face she stopped dancing immediately.

"Oww, my leg!"

"Uncle Heyes, I sorry." She squatted down and studied my leg. "Sorry, I hit you," she repeated, rubbing my pants.

I pulled her on my lap. "I'll be okay, but what do you think would have happened if the pretty horse's leg had hit you?"

I marveled as I could see her child's thought process in her eyes, which grew big when she understood. "Martha would be hurt like Michael," she said softly and buried her head in my shoulder. "Papa saved me from a horse kick."

I hugged her tight for a moment. "Yes, he did just that."

She climbed down from my lap, and I caught her wrist as she started to run. "Whoa, where are you going?"

"To kiss Papa thank you and tell him I learned to be very careful around dancing horses!" she finished emphatically.

KID 'JED' CURRY

So much had happened between Brown River and Michael's accident that I hadn't thought ahead, but I needed to. Heyes' next parole meetin' is the end of next week. Gotta contact Lom and see if he's comin'. I hope so. He understands the politics of what's goin' on there better than I do. All seems silly to me, a bunch of men tryin' to look good to the governor so they can keep gettin' better jobs. My pa taught me you work hard at the job given you to support your family. He worked hard on our farm, especially when my older brothers went to fight the war and died. Cheyenne has a lot of those political men that have power in their jobs so I'm always sure to be polite to them.

And I need to ask the dates for Matt's trial and Phillip Carlson's trial. And then the governor wants to talk to me and Heyes about prison discipline. That's a laugh. Nothin' ain't gonna change and I know it. But the governor is an idealist, Colin told me.

Also have to do what the governor asked and go into Devil's Hole and get the hostages. But I ain't gonna do it if it puts Heyes amnesty in danger. And I ain't gonna see my friends arrested. And I won't be the one who brings lawmen into Devil's Hole. Haven't heard back from Colin so I don't know if that's a good or bad thing. Wish Heyes was goin' with me, but I'm gonna see if Lom will go with me. He's a sheriff but he knows where the Hole is from his outlaw days. No one forgets where it is once you been there.

I asked Ken to get the dates for the trials and sit down with me and help me figure out a doable schedule. I need my family and the ranch protected when I travel, and Ken understands the threats, but keeps sayin' his job is to protect me.

HEYES

Chrissy is sitting at the kitchen table working on the breeding letters and calendar. And I think she's been crying. Don't know if she knows what happened with Martha and I ain't going to tell her. That's up to the Kid.

I don't think she heard me come in. Mrs. Clark just gave her a cup of tea, but Chrissy pushed it away. "Water, please."

"Now, now, Christine." I could hear amusement in her tone. "It's something every pregnant woman goes through. No need to cry."

Chrissy cried harder.

"My dear, what's wrong?"

I watched Chrissy stand up. She took off the apron she'd been wearing. That confused me. Chrissy doesn't wear aprons, only Mrs. Clark. But I saw what was wrong.

"Skirt no button. Blouse tight. Nightgown very tight." Tears started to flow.

Mrs. Clark gave her a hug. "Oh, I should have thought about that."

"In prison, wore men's uniform…and men's pants," she whispered the last. I saw her look at the ceiling and start to go inside of herself. I know that look but usually from the inside, not as an observer.

"Oh sweetie, I can't stand the thought of you locked in a prison," I heard Mrs. Clark say as I slipped back outside quietly to go find the Kid.

JED 'KID' CURRY

I got down on one knee and hugged Martha when she ran to me yelling, "Sorry, sorry, sorry, Papa." Heyes talked to her. He's so good with the twins. "Papa, I'm so, so sorry I climbed through the fence. I thought she was dancing."

I looked over her shoulder at Heyes, who shrugged his shoulders and grinned.

"What did you learn?" I tried to be stern, but her eyes melt me every time. It hurts me when I'm stern with her.

"Horses can hurt us. I have to be very careful. Would you give her my carrot?"

Only a five-year-old can have that innocent sincerity. "Yes, I'll give it to her. But I want you to go to your room. Think about what happened and what you will do next time you see a pretty horse. Stay there until I come get you."

"Yes, Papa… Alone?" I couldn't decide if she was scared or sad.

"Joe can go with you."

I almost changed my mind and let her stay outside with me, but I remembered my parents. They never let us wiggle out of a punishment. Heyes trailed her into the house, and I knew he'd see she went upstairs, maybe even slip her a peppermint.

HEYES

Dr. Arden was giving Michael his medicine when we entered through the kitchen. I pointed and Martha, with Joe, walked ever so slowly up the stairs. The doctor does it quickly; he held Michael's nose and stuck the spoon in his mouth, tilting his head back. Then he handed him the milk with honey. He told us the next few days it's very important to keep Michael quiet to let the bones start to knit together. He said bones. I'll have to ask him if there's more than one break. I'll do that later, not in front of the boy.

The Kid came in just as Michael was finishing his drink. "What a good boy! You took your medicine without me. Thank you," the Kid praised his son.

"Wanted Papa. Doctor said 'no'," was his defiant answer, ignored by everyone.

The Kid poured lukewarm coffee into his mug. "Guess I'll head back down to work."

Dr. Arden blocked his path. "Jed, Heyes, I believe now is a good time to have our first session. I'm leaving after lunch for Bridgeport. I'll catch the evening train to Cheyenne."

The Kid rolled his eyes. I know he doesn't want to talk about his anger but he promised. He never purposely breaks his promises. Dr. Arden and the Kid stare at each other before the Kid says, "Does the outside table work?"

Me and the Kid sat across from the doctor. He likes silence but the Kid has taught me to stay quiet myself and it will make Dr. Arden uncomfortable. That's what we do. Finally, the doctor spoke first.

"I believe that both of you have classic symptoms of suppressed anger…anger that you keep inside. It may make you sick or eventually explode out."

We didn't argue, just waited for him to say more. He looked at me then focused on the Kid.

"Jed, I'm worried about you. So much has happened to you that you've never talked about. Do you know what anger I'm talking about?"

The Kid took a deep breath before answering, "Anger about somethin' I can't do nothin' about right now. I got a whole corner of my thoughts that hold my anger. I don't visit it too often."

Dr. Arden looked surprised. I could see him processing the Kid's answer. "That's right. That's good." I felt nervous energy as he fixed his gaze on me. "Heyes, what do you know about suppressed anger?"

I looked in panic at the Kid, who answered for me. "Heyes' anger ain't always suppressed. When he feels it, he hides in his safe place."

"Your safe place?"

I felt exposed but Dr. Arden already knows where I go when I'm scared or angry, often both together. I pointed to my head and grinned.

He nodded but looked uncomfortable. I can tell this is not going the way he thought. I think he's hiding anger, too. Maybe he's angry at me? I don't want him to be angry at me. I want him as my friend.

"Let's start from the beginning." Dr. Arden returned to something he knew, his safe procedures and definitions. "Suppressed anger is anger that is avoided, denied, or pushed down into your subconscious. You hide from the feeling."

The Kid had a stoic look on his face. I know he wasn't going to reveal anything unless pushed. I don't know if he can handle being pushed right now. I have an idea.

"Dr. Arden, I think all this started with when our parents were murdered."

"Murdered? I knew you were both orphans but…"

"Our parents, grandpa and grandma Curry, our siblings, even the Kid's little sister were all killed by raiders on one sunny afternoon."

Dr. Arden looked as if he was punched in the stomach, I kept talking. I forget he had a sheltered academic upbringing. The Kid had never really heard me talk about that day. We lived it, didn't need to talk about it.

"I coaxed the Kid into skipping our chores and going fishing and swimming. We had fun. The last fun we had for years. We saw the smoke from our homes on the way back. We didn't live that far away. I ran to mine and he ran to his. They were all dead. Murdered, shot, dragged behind a horse, burned. We found all of their bodies. I was eleven, the Kid was eight. We buried them ourselves in the family plot. Took until after dark. We camped by the river and walked into town the next day."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"Now you know where our anger started," the Kid growled. "Satisfied? Can we go now?" He stood up but stayed by the table as if waiting to be dismissed. I used to be able to tell what he's feeling. Now I think he's angry. I couldn't tell if he was mad at me for telling the doctor or not. I know the Kid well, but right now I don't know what he's thinking.

The look in Dr. Arden's eyes is why we don't tell people about our past. Horror then pity. Only person who hates being pitied more than me is the Kid.

I'd done it, managed to shock Dr. Arden until he had no words. I'd never seen him school the emotions on his face before, but he did now. I couldn't tell what he was thinking. I wouldn't want to play poker with him.

"I misjudged you two…or misdiagnosed you. I knew you were in a home for waywards that used whippings and a dark closet as punishments. I thought all your anger, your fear, your resentment of society started there."

The Kid just stood where he was but looked down, waiting for this to be over, like he did in the headmaster's office at Valparaiso. This wasn't right. Grownup Kid doesn't do this. He's not submissive. He hates it when I am submissive. I'm not listening to Dr. Arden anymore. I know he is talking, but I need to help the Kid now.

"Kid, look at me. Jed," I said.

"Heyes, what are you doing?" the doctor asked, concerned.

"Same thing I did when we was little," I snapped back. I've never snapped at Dr. Arden before. I always try to do what he says. But not this time. I was wrong to bring up the memories of our families. The Kid had them buried deep and they should have stayed there.

"Let me give him some suggestions on how to handle the memories," Dr. Arden insisted.

"Dr. Arden, quiet! P–p–please," I said, holding up my hand and he backed away.

I told the Kid the same thing now as I had when he was eight. "Jeddie, take a deep breath."

I was relieved to see him do that. "Think about something happy. Think about Christmas."

The Kid nodded but still looked down.

"What do I always tell you? Repeat it to me three times."

The Kid looked up and into my eyes. "We can survive anythin' as long as we're together."

I saw tears in his eyes. "We can survive anythin' as long as we're together," he repeated. "We can survive anythin' as long as we're together," he finished looking up and around. "Heyes, we gotta make sure somethin' like what happened to us never happens to Michael and Martha. Gotta make sure they are always taken care of by someone who loves them." His voice was desperate. I smiled. I was wrong. He wasn't being submissive. He was silently thinking about his children.

"Jed? You alright now?" the doctor asked.

He nodded. "Need to make a will or somethin' so they can be protected." The determination I was used to hearing in his voice was back.

"Jed, Heyes, sit back down."

"Ain't we finished?" the Kid asked.

"Almost. First, I want to say I'm sorry. I wouldn't have pushed so hard if I knew your history, but I do think you both made progress today. Heyes, you did everything right today. You guided Jed through the steps the medical journals suggest: deep breathing, imagining a happy time, and repeating a mantra."

We just waited for him to finish. "Jed, I know a lawyer in Cheyenne. He can help you with a will and maybe some kind of college account for your kids."

"Don't trust putting much money in one bank. Too easy to rob." the Kid grinned.

Dr. Arden chuckled then became serious. "I thought I was going to give you something to think about. Instead, you gave me a lot to reconsider. Your first thought was for your kids when you thought of your family. That's good, I saw lots of deep anger in both of you today, but I think a gentler session would be more effective. For now, physical activity should help you control your anger. I guess both of you get plenty of that. Thank you, Heyes, for starting the conversation."

"Now we finished?" the Kid barked.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I didn't realize until today how much you two relied on each other before you went to prison. Separation must have been difficult." Dr. Arden was just talking now 'cause he was nervous.

"I'll go see your buggy is ready, Aiden," the Kid said. I was surprised that he continued, "Your 'session' did good today. I could see my childhood anger as an adult. Still there but I understand it better. Need to think more about it. I think it'll be good if we meet again."

Dr. Arden was as surprised as I was but held out his hand for the Kid to shake. "Thank you, Jed. I'm glad you recognize that I'm just trying to help."

LOM

The Bank of Porterville was robbed today and Susan Porter thinks I'm a hero because I led the posses that caught the bank robbers. All the money was recovered and the jewelry taken from the safe. They were all middle aged men, part of the Black Root gang out of Montana.

Yeah we caught all four of the robbers but we paid the price. Deputy Harker was injured. He took a bullet in his side and one in his foot. His recovery is slow. I don't know if he'll ever be able to be an active deputy again. Rudy was injured too, but not badly. A bullet grazed his left wrist and hand. I'm sure it hurts like hell but he'll be fine with time. He doesn't want Juan to know because then their parents will find out. Rudy told me he likes being a deputy and when the time comes to go back to college, he wants to study law..

Since Rudy doesn't want Juan to know about his injury, I thought it best if I didn't tell the Kid and Heyes about mine. I caught one in the thigh, pulled a bandana around it and rode back into town holding my gun of those robbers. Susan Porter has been nursing me. I finally got to tell her how I feel about her. The feeling is mutual. Don't think I can travel to Cheyenne for Heyes' parole meeting but I'll wait until the day is closer and decide. Maybe I can meet them in Cheyenne but I won't be able to ride a horse. Maybe next time I see them, I'll be ready to ask them to be the best men at my wedding.

JED 'KID' CURRY

I waited until I could talk to Heyes alone before I brought up Aiden's session with us.

"Heyes, what was in your mind tellin' Dr. Arden about the raiders and how our families were killed? That was a hard memory to see without being prepared. "

He looked down at his hands and hemmed and hawed. I thought he had lost his words but I think he was just pickin' them thoughtfully. "No way Dr. Arden's going to let us get out of there without talking. Long as he wants to help, thought he should know the beginnin'. Save him time tryin' to drag it out of us." He didn't look at me but asked a question of his own. "Why did you tell him you were looking forward to the next session?"

I grinned at him and gently leaned my arm around his shoulders. " I agree, there's no way he's going let us get out of them so I thought I might as well try and get somethin' out of them."

I was rewarded with a Heyes dimpled grin as he realized we were thinkin' the same thing.

HEYES

I feared for a few days I'd have to go to Cheyenne alone for my next parole hearing. The Kid and Ken are trying to figure out the logistics, as they call them. I'm proud of the Kid's vocabulary now but understand how he would feel when I used words he didn't understand. Now some of his words send me to the dictionary. But I can see the difference between me and the Kid. Using big words he didn't understand made me feel smart and made him look dumb. I used them in front of him and the gang to show my superiority. The Kid's not like that. He wants me to be proud of the words he's learned. I am. And more than just for all the words he just drops casually into conversations. I'm proud of him for what he's accomplished, how he takes care of us all. He's always had a compassionate soft spot for strays, but this is different. This is a mature compassion, a sincere deep caring, the kind that comes with a lifelong commitment. I've tried to tell him, but my words get jumbled or he changes the subject.

I'm glad Michael is home and with the cast Dr. Arden put on his upper arm, he can sit up and even walk a few steps. He still needs to be kept quiet but at least he has some mobility. He complains that it itches inside all the time.

I have been teaching the boy his numbers and he's a quick learner. Martha joins us for the morning lessons. If she came to the afternoon lessons, she would be just as quick as he is, but she prefers to help Juan or Ken with the horses in the afternoon. She has no fear of them even after Michael's accident but has learned to respect them and be careful. After I talked to her, the Kid left her in her room for almost an hour. Then he went in and talked to her. When he carried her out of there it looked like both of them had been crying.

But Michael is afraid of the horses. Every time I suggest carrying him out to see Posey or the other horses, he pulls away. The Kid just picked him up one day and carried him to the stable. Michael screamed and kicked from the moment we entered the stable until the Kid gave up and brought him back inside and set him on the couch in the living room. He was afraid Michael was going to move so roughly that the cast might break.

I can tell things are weighing heavy on the Kid. He has a lot of pressures on him right now. He avoids the bottle of whiskey that the Birdes sent him, and I know why. If he drinks, he's afraid he'll break. He always has the worries of the ranch and the blacksmith smith. He's made some beautiful pieces to sell at the mercantile, but he has to make the time from somewhere. He gets up earlier and earlier to practice his shooting. Ken told me he watched the Kid and Bobby Bell face off in Brown River. Never saw anyone as fast as the Kid. He told me he needs to stay fast to protect his family. That's his mantra: to take care of and protect his family. I'm glad he's my family. He said the meeting with Dr. Arden gave him a lot of things to contemplate about anger. I hope he means how to control it and not let it out. An angry Kid is formidable.

Now, he's also trying to be with Michael when he's awake. The boy refuses to take his medicine from anyone but his papa. The Kid stops whatever he's doing to be sure his son gets that medicine right on schedule. I try to keep Michael amused. He picked up checkers quickly and begs all of us to play constantly. Now I'm teaching him and Martha poker. I can tell his hand by the look on his face, but his sister already has a decent poker face at five years old. Probably better than mine. I can't school my face like I used to do. She's going to be a handful as she gets older.

Sometimes the Kid takes Martha back to the smithy in the afternoon. He keeps the forge fire low, and she adores "helping" papa. She's learned caution around the horses, but I don't think she's scared of anything except upsetting her papa. Chrissy cried one day when she saw Martha standing on a stool hitting a piece of metal with a little hammer the Kid made for her. "Papa's girl!" Chrissy said. "Be careful, hot!"

Everyone at the ranch knows now that Chrissy is going to have another baby, but the secret stays here. Dr. Arden says Chrissy needs to rest but she always seems to be doing something. Last night, Chrissy was sitting at the table reading the mail for the breedings in spring. She's starting a new breeding calendar already. But she's writing letters to each owner that sent their horses here last year asking about the foals. Me and the Kid were kinda fighting over him not giving me all the invoices and receipts. Mrs. Clark loudly plopped a plate of cookies down in front of us.

"Can't argue with your mouth full!"

We both grinned like twelve-year-old boys at the cookies and answered, "No, ma'am" in unison.

"Jed, now." Chrissy looked up from her letters. I saw the Kid nod.

"Mrs. Clark, sit down, have a cookie. I want to talk to you about something," the Kid said.

"Oh, my goodness, did I do something wrong? Or you realized I came and just never left?" she asked, sad and concerned as she wiped her hands on her apron and sat down.

"No, ma'am, you seem to have the knack of doin' everythin' right. We was wonderin' if you would consider stayin' on here at the ranch permanently. We know your family are probably missin' you so we understand if you say no, but with another baby comin', we would be obliged if you'd stay. We've all grown quite attached to you."

The Kid took a breath, and it was quiet for a moment. I studied Mrs. Clark's face. She has a good poker face, too.

The Kid kept talking. Faster now, because he was nervous. "We'd pay you for your help and I been lookin' into buildin' you a small house in that clearin' under the big red cedar tree. Well, I was thinkin' one bedroom but if you want it bigger, I can do that. With a nice porch for rockin' and a patch for a nice garden in the front."

He stopped. Everyone waited. Even Martha, who was sitting next to Michael playing checkers, turned to look at Mrs. Clark and was quiet.

Mrs. Clark looked from one of us to the other and started crying. The Kid, I think, thought he had said something wrong. Mrs. Clark stood up and turned away and I thought she was going to say no or wasn't going to answer, but she slowly took off her apron, folded it and laid it near the sink.

The Kid stood up and started to move toward her. "Mrs. Clark, if I said somethin' wrong, or you stayin' is an imposition, I'm sorry."

When she looked at us again, she was crying. She hugged the Kid tight. "No, Jedediah, you said everything right and made this old lady very, very happy. Don't need no money. I have a generous pension from my husband. He was a US Marshal, you know. It would be an honor to be a part of this family and one bedroom is all I need. Don't want to clean more than that…Thank you."

She hugged each of us in turn, Chrissy, then me and went over and hugged the twins, saying, "My babies." I don't like many people to touch me but her happy hug felt good.

"Mrs. Clark, need you to think about somethin' else before you agree," the Kid's voice had grown serious.

"Already agreed and maybe you could start calling me something less formal, like Aunt Diane Frances."

The Kid smiled. Mrs. Clark usually used our full Christian names – Jedediah, Christina and Hannibal. I've gotten used to it. It feels like when our parents would call us.

A smile graced the Kid's face and reached his eyes but left quickly. I knew he had something important to add. "Mrs…Aunt Diane Frances, you know our histories and me and Heyes ain't always been law abidin'."

"Lom told me some."

"Well, you're family. You can ask us any questions you want about our past, even the years in prison. But you need to know, there's at least two men, gunfighters, out there that have already been paid generously to kill me." He looked quickly at the twins when he realized what he had said but they had gone back to their game and were talking about something or other. "It's why Ken is really here. To help protect me and my family but he can't stay forever. He's got work to do as a US Marshal. You might be in danger if you stay here."

Her poker face long gone; I saw concern, followed by worry, and after a quick look at the twins, her decision. "If those babies are in danger, then this is where I need to be. Thank you for telling me?." She laughed a nervous laugh. "Tell you the truth, I had made up my mind to make myself useful and stay here until someone kicked me out."

ASJ*****ASJ

I knew the Kid had left to go to Three Birds this morning after giving Michael his first dose of medicine. Chrissy and Aunt Diane Frances went with him. They are going to buy fabric for Chrissy's new clothes. Not sure the Kid has figured that out though. She needs to tell him, not me.

I'm teaching the boy how to write all his letters and his name today. He's harder than ever to calm down this morning as his pain medicine wears off. When his arm and head hurt, he's restless. Martha's trailing Juan today. He had her in front of him as he rode Spring's Joy to check fences. She has the same way with horses that her ma and papa do.

The Kid isn't gonna get home in time to give Michael his medicine. I can see the pain in the boy's eyes; he needs it now. I can do this. I've seen Dr. Arden and the Kid do it. I make up the half glass of milk and honey and set it aside. We keep the medicine on the high shelf in the kitchen. I get it down and get the spoon.

"Michael, it's time for your medicine."

"No! Only Papa!" He threw the chalk on the floor and my chalkboard would have joined it if I hadn't caught it.

"Your papa took your ma to Three Birds. Let's surprise them and I'll give you your medicine. You'll feel better."

"No, want Papa!" His defiant tone made me uncomfortable.

I thought about it and decided I was right to give him his medicine.

"No, I'm giving it to you. " I kept my voice calm but stern.

I handed him the glass of honey milk while I measured out a spoon of the medicine. I put the top on the bottle and put it on the table.

"Need more," Michael said, handing me the now empty glass.

"Take this and I'll get you more."

"NO!" He threw the glass at me. It hit my hand and the spoon, breaking into pieces on the floor.

"STOP!" I heard Chrissy yell from the kitchen door. The Kid and Aunt Diane Frances were right behind her. All looked mad.

"S-s-sorry," I apologized and started to bend down. Chrissy was mad at me. That means the Kid will be mad at me. I shouldn't have tried to give Michael his medicine. I should have waited, but I could see Michael was in pain.

"Stop," she said, again. I stood up without touching the glass, but I did not look at her. I looked down. Fear went through me. The Kid and Chrissy are protective of the twins. I did wrong. I wanted to run to my room and get away, but Chrissy walked toward me.

She took my hands in hers and looked up into my face. "Heyes, do good. Thank you."

As she turned to look at Michael, she saw the blood on my hand from the glass.

"Michael, rude!" she said firmly. "Michael hurt Uncle. Say you're sorry."

"NO!"

I saw the controlled calm that Chrissy called upon. Did she learn that in prison?

"Michael, very rude. Apologize," she demanded. She picked up his checkerboard and the box of checkers and walked it purposely across the room and put it on a top shelf in the kitchen. She picked up a clean spoon.

The Kid hadn't said anything, but he took my hand and looked closely. He wrapped his bandana around it. I couldn't look at him. What if he thinks I was wrong and asks me to leave? I was only trying to help. I would protect his babies with my life.

"Mine!" screamed Michael, grabbing at the checkerboard and getting more upset as Chrissy seemed to get calmer.

"Michael rude. Tell Uncle Heyes sorry." She stood over him and looked him directly in his eyes. He has the Kid's eyes, especially when he's mad and they get a darker blue.

Michael broke eye contact with his ma and looked at Aunt Diane Frances. She turned around and busied herself at the sink. He looked at the Kid. "Papa give medicine."

"No, I will give it to you, not papa!" Chrissy's voice was strong and decisive. She wanted no argument.

"Say sorry!" she demanded again. She took my deck of cards off the table and slipped them into her pocket.

With all his toys gone and no one to take his side, Michael didn't look at me but whispered, "Sorry."

"Say louder," Chrissy said. She picked up the medicine and poured it into the spoon.

"SORRY," he yelled.

"Good," said his ma. "Open your mouth."

He spoke through tightly closed lips. "Want Papa."

"No, me. Open." ordered his ma.

I could tell Michael was learning not to argue with his ma.

"Want honey milk!" His lips were closed but the words were clear.

Chrissy brought the spoon closer to his mouth while daring him with her eyes to object. He didn't. He opened his mouth and swallowed the vile tasting liquid.

"Good," she said as Aunt Diane Frances put the glass of honey milk in his hand.

When Auntie bent down to sweep up the glass, Chrissy intervened. "No, Michael sweep it up. You watch he careful."

"Can't," said Michael, lifting the cast and trying to look pathetic.

Chrissy put her hands on her hips. "You throw glass, one hand. You hurt Uncle Heyes one hand. You sweep one hand."

Looking contrite, Michael took the offered broom from Auntie and attempted to sweep.

"Good!" She turned to me. "Heyes, come, I get glass slivers out of hand."

After watching her with Michael, I wasn't about to disagree with her. "Coming, Chrissy. Thank you."