Winter's Refuge

Chapter One Hundred Eight

NOTE: We first met William John Knight, the chef from New Jersey, in Chapter Twenty-Three with his mares Princess and Lady.

JED 'KID' CURRY

From Heyes' writin', I could picture everything that went on in Pembina. The best part was I saw the old Heyes, my partner, my co-leader of the Devil's Hole Gang in his actions. I am so proud of him; I can't wait for Auntie and Chrissy to hear about it.

BUT other emotions inundated me besides pride – anger, guilt, and jealousy. Heyes' plan was somethin' we would've done together while goin' for amnesty. I love my family and life but sometimes feel suffocated with all my responsibilities. I miss doin' that kind of stuff with Heyes and jealous he's able to do it. However, I'm furious at him. That was really stupid/dumb doin' it alone. It turned out successful, but it could've had a horrible outcome. He should've sent for me. We could've done it together…and I could have protected him. I feel guilty I wasn't there to back him up.

But then Heyes' whole purpose for this trip was to prove to himself that he can handle things by himself. And that's exactly what he did. I have wanted this for him since I saw what prison did to him. But something in me is jealous. No one except Heyes and Chrissy know that I'm having trouble healin' after prison. My strength is a front for feeling so much less than others, inadequate, damaged. When I was servin' time I made a vow to work harder than I thought possible and get as strong as I could and protect my family. I put everything into doin' that, pushin' myself every minute of every day. Still doin' that. Wonderin' about that eagle… was it tellin' me I'm a better man? But somethin' in me needs to keep pushin' harder to keep my vows. If I stop, I know I'll go back to prison forever.

But Heyes is my hero now. He's movin' ahead and learned to put prison in the back of his mind and take bold moves with his life. When he gets home, I want to have an honest talk with him and ask him to help me. I always feel like the specter of prison is ahead of me, no matter my actions.

When I was practicin' shootin' this mornin' I realized I had missed doin' that twice this week. I can't miss days. I must stay sharp. There's a third bounty hunter still already paid to kill me. I remembered the self-help book Lom sent me in prison. It said to put my worries in columns of things I can do now and things I have to wait to do. In prison I called that my hopeless column. Most of them are not hopeless anymore.

I need to stop thinkin' like this, so I opened the second letter from Heyes. It was written almost ten days later than the first.

"Dear Family,

(Kid please read all my letters first and skip any parts that would upset the ladies or are not appropriate for your kids. Thanks.)

I miss every one of you. And now I hear I have a beautiful new niece, Ruth Ann. She's one lucky girl to have you, Kid and Chrissy, for parents and Michael, Martha, and Joy as siblings. I can't wait to get home and hold her in my arms.

I know I wrote that I never wanted to go back to Pembina but I'm going to go through there on my way home. There's something I need to do there.

Walhalla is a very different town than Pembina. Half of the people here are related, kinda like the Birde family in Three Birds. I was looking for Angelica Doubleday, the second wife of James Samuel Doubleday. I killed him in self-defense when he attacked me in prison. Most of what happened around that time is gone from my memory…I do remember blind anger when I was attacked. And remorse for the wives and families Doubleday left behind. I didn't know then that he was a bigamist. Well, Veronica Doubleday West didn't need my help. She made her own decisions.

Starting the same way I had in Pembina, I visited the cemetery. But this time I didn't see any gravestones with the name Veronica Doubleday. So, I spent a day listening to random conversations for the names Angelica or Doubleday and heard neither. Turns out on the next day, the Doubledays found me. A young teenage boy decided that the new stranger in town was the perfect target for pickpocketing.

Kid, did you ever tell the family that when we were young there was no better pickpocket than you? You had the softest hands and innocent eyes. The mark never knew what happened. I was good but you were better…the best. I can even remember a couple of times when we were in jail you used this skill to lift the keys from the deputy guarding us.

Well, I'm out of practice and don't think I could lift anything but I sure know when someone is trying to lift my wallet. A boy hit my shoulder, knocking me off balance. And while he was apologizing and pretending to balance me, his hand strayed to my inside pocket. I grabbed and twisted his hand and wrist.

"Not today, boy," I growled at him.

"Let me go!" He tried to yank his wrist from me, but I twisted it a bit more. I found I'm stronger than I thought but my own shoulder was starting to ache from the motion. It's a reminder of the shiv wound there in prison…and the billy club that struck there afterwards.

A deputy had been sitting on a bench in front of the sheriff's office talking to everyone who passed. I had said hello to him every day I was there. "I'll take him from you," he said as he approached us. He took the boy's arm and twisted it harshly to his back.

"Sam Doubleday, back to my jail you go. I'm starting to think there has to be a stricter penalty for you than two weeks in jail and helping on the Perlman farm during the day with restraints on your ankles."

Sam spit at the deputy. "Don't care what you do to me."

"I know you don't, but your ma does. And she's a nice, hardworking, god-fearing lady. Still, I've had enough of your petty thievery. This man is a visitor to our town. Apologize to Mr… er, what's your name, sir?"

My words almost left me. I'd almost been robbed and found a Doubleday all in a few seconds. I thought about saying Joshua Smith but decided to use my real name. Think I've earned that right. "Heyes. Hannibal Heyes."

The boy's eyes widened, and his glare was poisonous. He recognized my name, even if he had never met me.

"THE Hannibal Heyes?" the deputy asked

"Is there another?" I answered with a grin.

The deputy returned the grin and said, "Come on, Sam, you know the way." He pushed him toward the jail.

I filled out the complaint for the deputy, feeling the boy's barely controlled anger on my back. And I learned that the newspaper article was wrong again. Angie had one boy, no girls. I'll have to tease Mike Loveland about checking his sources, although I know that story was a reprint of a Cheyenne story.

After shaking hands with the deputy, I went outside and paced up and down the sidewalk thinking and planning. First, I tried to decide if I should feel guilty that Sam was growing up wild and a pickpocket. But then I decided even if I had not killed James Doubleday, he would be in prison, not here to raise his son.

Kid, sometimes I think that everything that goes wrong is my fault. Starting with my idea to run away from Valparaiso. But Dr. Arden is always telling me I'm not responsible for the whims of the universe and other people. So no, I am not guilty about Sam. But I am waiting here to talk to his ma. And trying to prepare what I'm going to say.

I was surprised when a lady hurried across the street still wearing an apron. She'd been my waitress at the diner. We'd even flirted some.

Stopping her before she went into the sheriff's office, I asked, "Mrs. Doubleday, may I speak with you?"

I saw a flicker of casual recognition. "I'm in a hurry, sir."

"The name is Hannibal Heyes and I'm partially responsible for your boy being in jail."

She looked me up and down before giving me her full attention. "You're responsible? You're responsible for me being a widow and for me finding out I was married to a bigamist, but how are you responsible for my son being in jail?"

She stated facts, but I felt no blame being put on me. Her tone was flat, accepting, until she came to the last question.

"I'm the one he chose as his mark. He attempted to steal my wallet."

She gave a little laugh and tossed her head. I should have been concentrating on our conversation, but I was admiring her hazel eyes that flashed defensively when she spoke of her son. "Sounds like his life. Always making bad choices and now he tries to rob one of the most successful robbers the west has ever seen. Why are you here in Walhalla? A long way from Wyoming; isn't that your home?"

"That's where me and the Kid were wanted, but we're free men now. Got amnesty from the governor. We try to live quietly in Nebraska." I wanted this woman to like me. I'd enjoyed flirting with her this morning over breakfast. She's the only woman who I'd been attracted to since prison. Now the way the sun bounced off her the brown waves of her shoulder length hair caught my attention. No one would say she was a great beauty, but her delicate features fit her. The sadness behind her eyes and her worn clothes and hands told me she worked hard to make a living.

I looked at her diner's name tag. "Angie?"

"A childhood nickname. James Doubleday always called me Angelica…helped him sweep me off my naive young feet." She looked startled that she had shared that with me.

I played my only card. "I'm the one that filed the complaint, maybe I can withdraw it? I'll talk to him. Tell him where petty theft will lead him?" I used to be pretty persuasive. Not sure if I still have that skill.

I thought I saw desperation in her eyes, and I needed to help her.

"Would you do that for him?"

"I'd do that for you. Don't want to cause you any more trouble."

I nodded. I thought she almost smiled as she talked looking over my shoulder. "James got everything he deserved. Imagine marrying me when he was already married…with a kid. So, our marriage wasn't real. You know what that makes me?" She shook her head. "I just met you. I don't know why I'm telling you all this," she said as a way of apologizing.

"Because I'm the man that changed your life. And I'd like to help you now."

"Thank you. Do you think you can really help my boy?" she asked.

"Let's go see."

I convinced the deputy I may be able to reach the boy. They lived in a small shack in the back of her sister's house. It was sparse but clean and I can tell that Angie hates taking their charity. She says they do it because she's family, but basically this town believes that she was James Doubleday's mistress. Which legally, I guess, she was. She's such a nice lady. The way this town treats her isn't fair.

Trying to talk to Sam on the way home, I was ignored except for some nasty looks.

"Sam, Mr. Heyes is trying to talk to you. Show him some respect," Angie scolded her son, and the dirty look was turned on her.

Until he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and planted himself in front of me.

"You killed my pa!" He pushed me back.

I wanted to push right back, but instead I just moved back and stood right where I had been. "DON'T PUSH ME, AGAIN," I growled.

That I didn't push back yet didn't retreat confused him. He looked at his ma, standing with her hands on her hips and a pleading look on her face. When he looked back at me, I studied his eyes. They were intelligent, curious and guarded.

"Sorry," he whined and started walking home ahead of us.

"Sam, let's go for a walk. Miss Angie, why don't you go on home?" I said.

I didn't get anywhere with the boy until we went for that walk and I mentioned you, Kid.

"Kid Curry! You know Kid Curry? Of course, you do. You lead the Devil's Hole Gang together!" It was the first time I saw him show interest in anything. "He's my hero."

"We DID lead the Devil's Hole Gang, not anymore. Me and the Kid served hard time to win our amnesty. Now we're honest citizens."

"Of course, I knew that. Does he really draw as fast as the books say? And as accurate? Ma won't let me have a gun, but my uncle gave me one anyway. Could you ask him to teach me to fast draw?" The words tumbled out of his mouth.

While we were walking side by side, I had awkwardly managed to 'lift' his knife from the back of his belt under his vest and cigarettes from his pocket. If he was paying attention he would have noticed but his mind was on Kid Curry. That told me he's not pickpocketing to get money to spend, he's doing it for fun….and to get attention. Well, he had mine. And I had his when I gave him back the knife.

"Your ma know you're smoking?" I asked, showing the cigarettes I had 'picked' from his pocket.

"No."

I didn't mind that he hadn't said 'no sir,'. You're right, Kid; sir is something that's earned…or you're forced to say. "I won't tell her this time. But if I find them on you again…" I let my sentence hang.

"You're a pretty good pickpocket, Mr. Heyes. Didn't feel you taking them." I heard admiration in his voice.

"It's a skill you should not pursue. Do you understand?" I tried to speak firmly but it was hard to sustain this conversation. I'm used to short conversations with anyone not family. I started to doubt I could keep talking to him and be effective. And that doubt started to take my words away. I fought to keep my thoughts focused and my words near my tongue.

He nodded, but I'm not convinced he won't try it on the next stranger to town.

With the promise of someday meeting you, I coaxed him to agree to no more stealing. I showed him your signature on your last letter, and he agreed to work hard and not skip school if you'd write him a letter. I know that's asking a lot of you but consider it a favor to me.

Anyway, that same night I took Angie to the fanciest restaurant in town for dinner. She loved it, but I could hear the people around us gossiping about what I was going to get from her after. She ignored the whispers, but I couldn't. So, I did a very ungentlemanly thing and asked her to walk herself home. You have to understand she lives less than two straight blocks from where we ate. I could see her all the way. And people could see I was not with her.

Then, I went into the saloon and played poker until after dawn. It was a lively small-town game with a full table. A lot of men wanted to play poker with Hannibal Heyes. I came out ahead, but I made sure nobody lost much. I just played, didn't talk much. Words are taking conscious thought to form right now. It's been a long day. My poker skills are back, but my memory is not what it used to be. I understand that after that night. I could control the game with these small-town players, but I couldn't do it in Denver or San Francisco like I could before. I'd probably lose every hand to you.

When the game broke up, I walked to the diner for breakfast and sat at Angie's table. She smiled and I found I had all my words to flirt with this lady. Sam went to school this morning without a struggle. So, family, I think I'm going to stay in Walhalla for a while. I'll keep in touch.

Address your letters to me here. And Kid, please write an encouraging, short letter to Sam. If you can make it exciting, that would be great, and ask him to write back. I want to try to turn this boy's life around.

All my hugs and thoughts to all of you,

Heyes"

I folded the letter and put it with the first. Smilin', I thought about Heyes' description of Angie. I know him well. He's smitten. Tomorrow is Wednesday and the post goes out at noon. I'll make sure my letters are written and in the mail by then.

When Ruth Anne was a few days old, Aiden and his wife left for Porterville. He's real worried about Miss Susan. Me and Frank are goin' make sure that Dr. Sexton doesn't show up again. Dr. Oliver Arden arrived a few days later so our growin' town has a doctor…at least for a week. This is his vacation. Wish Heyes was here so I could laugh with him about all the single ladies cookin' for Dr. Oliver. He won't go hungry, but if he's not careful, he'll go home with a wife.

Auntie has been cleaning up a storm because William Knight is due tomorrow. He's bringing three mares, his special recipes, and an endless amount of enthusiasm. Before he left, Heyes agreed that William can stay in his room. He used that room last year. It was set up for Heyes, but he was still in prison and William just claimed it for his own. He's a nice man, but pushy in a polite way. Heyes things are cleared out of the room and Auntie aired out the room and changed the bedding.

LOM

I'm glad that Dr. Arden and Miss Denise are here. Susan will not stay still, much less in bed. The doctor took one look at her working in her office at the bank with her feet up when he arrived and sent her home to our bedroom. He locked her in. Miss Denise is in there with her to keep her company and ensure she stays in bed.

"Lom, what were you thinking of letting her go to work? I told you how serious her condition is," Dr. Arden scolded me.

"I been trying. I even hired a maid to keep her home, but she's a determined woman. One of the things I love about her…but now it's working against her. And I can't get her to change. She says she feels fine, even let me feel the baby kicking. Insists that everything's fine." I knew my voice held my frustration and worry. I can't hide it. Junior Bickson's working as deputy full time until after the baby comes. I do morning and evening rounds and spend the rest of my time trying to keep my wife quiet. But every time I leave, she's up and about. But now that Dr. Arden is here that changed.

He examined Susan while I went to the sheriff's office and got some work done and gave Junior a few hours off in the middle of the day. He hasn't complained, but I know when he leaves the office, he goes home and helps his pa and brother on their farm.

Dr. Arden was in the kitchen with his medical bag when I got home. The look on his face told me all I needed to know.

"Lom, she's very pale. Her heart beats irregularly. Her ankles are badly swollen. I can hear the baby's heartbeat. That's the only good news."

I took a deep breath. "Doctor, I love her. Never thought I'd find anyone I'd love that would love me back. She's so far above me, a bank president and an ex-outlaw sheriff."

Arden looked surprised. "Ex-outlaw?"

I smiled. Not everyone knows my background. "When Heyes joined the Devil's Hole Gang, I was already there. I remember when he brought the Kid in as their gunnie. I saw the light, got amnesty, and went into law enforcement. Always had a soft spot for Heyes and Curry, though."

"Well, you've been a good friend to both of them. Now, what are we going to do about Susan?"

With the doctor and his wife moving into our house, I had time to arrange for someone to help Marina Ortiz and her son Paul with the books and the operation of Winter's Refuge. I hired Auntie Denise Francis Clark's younger son, Jonathan. He just graduated from college and he's an accountant looking for steady clients. He'd sent me a telegram agreeing to my terms and oversight.

I arranged for him to go to Winter's Refuge next week and Marina and Paul are expecting him. I know Marina asked the Kid for this help. Now he has one less thing to worry about.

Worrying about Susan and our unborn child is all I can think about.