Winter's Refuge
Chapter One Hundred Eighty-Nine
JED 'KID' CURRY
Heyes came up to my bedroom to help me put Diane Frances, Josiah, and Catherine to sleep. Once they were changed, I sat with the girls in the overstuffed chair and Heyes cuddled Josiah on the bed as he read the last letter out loud that arrived today…from Clem Hale.
"Dear Heyes and Kid,
Hope all is well at Phoenix. In case you don't know it, Chrissy is a very special lady. We went out to lunch today and did a little shopping. Dr. Arden approved as long as her ankles didn't swell, so I kept a close eye on her. If I didn't know better, I wouldn't guess she was with child.
I don't think we've ever spent time together, just the two of us ladies. We had great fun, and with her smile, she charms everyone she meets. We laughed all through lunch. I never thought kids were funny, but her stories about them were funny and full of love. She invited me to come to Phoenix sometime after this baby arrives.
Then we ran into her very handsome next-door neighbor, Roberto Malone. He's very tall and so good looking. When he shook my hand with soft hands with a touch of paint under his nails, he took my breath away. With his dark smoldering eyes and black Irish hair, with just a touch of curl, he looks like someone out of one of those romance novels us ladies read. This man could make any woman swoon. And he has perfect manners. He consulted Chrissy on the dinner menu and then, oh so politely, invited me to share their dinner. Of course, I accepted.
We continued on with our shopping, but I'm afraid I badgered Chrissy with questions about him. She knew very little. In the confectioner's store, Chrissy bought a bag of peppermints for her Jed this weekend. Please act surprised when she gives them to you. Her eyes sparkle when she talks about you. We stopped at the gallery that shows Roberto Malone paintings. I'm impressed. They are excellent and very expensive. If he's not now, that man is going to be rich.
At their usual early dinner with Dr. Arden, Mr. Malone pulled out the chair for each of us ladies and put a napkin on our lap with a flourish. He served lamb with a mint jelly he had made. He said he learned the recipe when he studied in some of the culinary kitchens in England, but it is not widely known here. It was delicious. He offered me the recipe, but I know it would have been too complicated for me, so I batted my eyes and refused, saying no one could prepare it as well as he does. Chrissy told me later she has been making a book of sorts with his recipes for Auntie to try, with Roberto's permission, of course. He dotes on her and anything she asks for - more mint jelly, another roll he got for her immediately.
After dinner, he insisted on walking me to the livery where I'd left my buggy. I trembled a little to be taking this handsome man's arm and enjoyed every minute of it. He bowed to me when we parted, and he said that he was glad I appreciated his cooking. And then he left.
Kid, I know you are coming this weekend, Chrissy must have told me ten times, so I made plans to come back and have lunch with your lovely wife the week after. I'm looking forward to it already.
Always your friend,
Clem"
HEYES
All three babies were asleep by the time I finished reading the letter. I appreciate that Clem was writing an upbeat letter about her lunch with Chrissy, but I could tell it made the Kid's jealousy and self-doubt grow.
We gently put the babies in their cribs and sat back down.
"Roberto sounds like a handsome man," I started.
"More than handsome, I'd say," he answered. He studied the front and back of his hands. "My hands ain't never gonna be soft, no matter how hard I scrub them," he said sadly.
"Chrissy didn't fall in love with you for your soft hands. Kid. I'm sure your soft heart had something to do with it. I read her end part of the letter, the part for you. That woman loves you just as you are." I tried to persuade him, but my former silver tongue hasn't worked on him since we left prison.
"Think you can handle things here if I leave Thursday mornin' instead of Saturday?" he asked.
"Yes. we'll manage."
JED 'KID' CURRY
Rocky's addin' to our stock of horseshoes today. When he was released from prison this time, he dedicated himself to learnin' the dirty blacksmith trade…and made consistent progress. I hold myself to a very high standard as a blacksmith. People depend on my work and I expect the same from my apprentice. Lately, he's exceeding expectations.
I worked with Vince and Heyes and the big twins and Joy and we cleared the area between our back door and Auntie's house. I made Chrissy's garden bigger, and I bought some grass seed from Jeff and we planted it, and finished it all off with another white fence. I panic when I think what might have happened to Ruth Ann and Nettie that morning. This made me feel better as it prevents our little ones from wandering down to the stream alone.
We enclosed two of our trees into the yard. I made and hung two swings from them.
I built them just the way Chrissy described in her letter and even painted them white. I added a rope belt in one that tied to the ropes so the littlest ones would be more secure. And then we tried them out; they were a big success. And the rope belt saved Juan's youngest from takin' a tumble when his brother pushed him too high.
As we stood there and watched, Vince offered, "If you would like, I can build a low treehouse in that far tree? Or maybe a playhouse?"
Angie overheard from her seat at our outside table. "That's sweet of you. Maybe a playhouse. Too many little ones around here now for a treehouse."
"Uncle Heyes, do you think that treehouse you built us at Soteria is still there?" Michael asked.
"Probably is," Heyes answered.
And then the newer members of our family had to hear the story of our escape to Soteria, which lasted through dinner.
"Kid, we need to find the time and take everyone there for a vacation," Heyes whispered to me quietly after dinner.
I smiled as I watched Nettie and Joy happily swingin' and nodded my agreement. We own the land where Soteria is hidden and it's peaceful and calm there. And there are plenty of trees there that would be perfect for swingin'. "I'd like that a lot."
ASJ*ASJ
I debated about wearin' my suit to Denver, but Heyes and Angie convinced me it would be a wrinkled mess from the train ride. I want to impress Chrissy…win her back. But Auntie knew what I was thinkin' and almost convinced me that Roberto was not stealin' my wife's feelin's away from me…well, I let her think she did anyway.
I'd be gettin' to Denver two days early, Thursday afternoon instead of Saturday. I kept arguin' with myself about gettin' there early, so I waited to the last minute to send a telegram to Aiden at the School for the Deaf just before I left Three Birds. I brought a book I knew would take me to a faraway adventure for the train rides…instead, I got lost in my thoughts and fears about losin' my wife and almost missed my final stop. I can take on anyone in a gunfight but I'm not sure how to fight this soft handed handsome painter. The kind porter, who recognized Kid Curry, touched me on the shoulder with about fifteen minutes to go. Not a lot of things make me afraid, but I'm scared now, scared of losin' my wife. I've thought it out and if Chrissy wants a different life, a city life, I'll find a way to give it to her. She deserves her dreams, too. And I pray that includes this exgunfighter.
Hopin' that Aiden got my telegram, I asked directions and walked to the Denver School for the Deaf. It is a dignified brick buildin' that feels welcomin', like a family estate home. I was afraid it would look like a prison, but it doesn't. It looks…cheerful, even with the high hedge that surrounds it. I didn't see an unlocked way in, so I stood by the main gate and paced nervously. Maybe I was wrong to come early? Maybe Aiden would be upset that I came early? Or maybe he didn't get my telegram?
Hearin' the door creak and open outward, I gave a sigh of relief as Aiden stepped out carryin' his leather budget. "Jed, I just got your telegram. Hope you haven't been waiting long. They don't disturb us with telegrams during school hours unless they are an emergency." Holdin' out his hand to shake, he added, "It's good to see you. How was your trip?"
"Sorry, I'm a few days early. I couldn't wait to see my girls. Trip was easy. Used the time for thinkin'," I answered. I don't want to talk to him about Chrissy and Roberto and city life…at least not yet.
He stopped abruptly and looked at me, surprised. "Yes, you're early…come in and wait in the garden for a few mintues. I'm afraid you can't see Ruth Ann today, but she'll be able to visit Sunday." With a key from his pocket, he opened the gate to reveal a strugglin' flower garden. "The children play out here and we feel that their outdoor play is more important than a perfect garden. There's a bench in the shade under that white oak tree. Wait there. I'll be right out." He pointed to the seat and then hurried away.
The garden looked like a kid's fantasy playground with rows of flowers and bushes and statues and swings. I could even see a slide nearer the building.
"Mr. Curry?" A voice coming from the garden surprised me and then a pleasant lookin' woman emerged.
Jumpin' to my feet, I grabbed my hat from my head. "Yes, ma'am," I answered.
Gramma Curry would have described her as portly with her dark hair pulled severely back from her face. But she had a friendly smile and held out her hand to me. "I'm Miss Ellen, your daughter's teacher."
In the letters we'd gotten from Aiden and Chrissy, no one had described her. "Pleased to meet you, ma'am. And thank you for teachin' Ruth Ann. I know it can be hard to make her understand things sometimes. Won't you sit down?"
"Please talk a bit slower; I can read lips. Do you sign?" she said, the words were understandable but not totally formed.
And then I saw it in her eyes, she saw Kid Curry, not Ruth Ann's pa. We sat down and she laughed nervously.
Takin' a moment to compose herself, she said and signed at the same time, "Your daughter can be head-strong and stubborn, but she's also loving and wants to learn and please. We don't usually take children as young as her, but she's done well here."
"You speak very well. Aiden, er… Dr. Arden said the older students were spoilin' her some."
"Thank you. I have some hearing, so it was easier for me to learn. And yes, she's like a little doll that can speak sign language," she said.
"We think she heard a wolf howl." I said, wantin' to hear her opinion.
"Yes, Dr. Arden told us. He did some tests and we believe she did hear some of the wolf howl But unfortunately he can't find anything else she can hear," she explained. "She must come from a loving home with a lot of children?" Miss Ellen asked.
'I'm sorry I don't sign very well. She's the middle child of seven right now," I answered, lookin' right at her.
"Explains why she enjoys being with others. An only child often has trouble adjusting to the chaos of living in a group home like this, but she seems to be thriving," she said. And there was that look, again, with a blush and a quick look away. She's talking to the outlaw Kid Curry, and not a pa of one of her students.
So, I decided to address it but not directly. "Glad she's thrivin'. She's got to be twice as good as any other kid with Kid Curry for a pa and Hannibal Heyes for an uncle." I know I sounded defensive and I hoped that didn't come through as she read my lips. This is a sensitive subject for me and Heyes that we've talked about a lot. Even thought about changin' our names, but it's too late for that now.
Startled, she sat up straight and looked me in the eyes. "Not at all, Mr. Curry. You've done well for yourself, and I would say that Curry is a name to be proud to carry. And a child Ruth's age wouldn't understand anyway."
I didn't know what to say. My silence made her nervous, so she kept talkin'. "Your daughter's use of sign language exceeded my expectations. She uses mainly symbols and we are teaching her the alphabet and how to spell simple words. For instance, she now points to our indoor cat and spells out C-A-T." Once Miss Ellen started talkin' about Ruth Ann's progress and what she was learnin', she became more sure of herself. And I was glad this woman was our daughter's teacher.
"Ahh, Jed, there you are. And I've seen you've met Miss Ellen," Aiden said, hurryin' toward us. "I realized that with you here early, I can take the evening train home and have an extra day with Miss Denise and my children."
Miss Ellen stood up, so I did, too. "Well, I must be getting back to the children. Will you still be in the city on Sunday to spend the day with Ruth, Mr. Curry?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"We need to get going, Jed, so I can catch that train after dinner. Have I told you about our neighbor, Roberto? He cooks for us, and it is as fine as any restaurant in Denver."
HEYES
Without the Kid or Chrissy, I tried to keep track of all the Curry kids. Angie's recovering leg still limits her movement, and she needs to sit with it up for most of the day. Taking care of our Alexander was about all she could manage, although, she insisted she could do more. After school, she sits in the kid's room upstairs and helps Martha and Michael do their homework. Joy, Nettie, Diane Frances, Josiah, and Catherine play quietly. The little ones liked to pretend they have homework to do, too. This way Auntie has the kitchen table to herself to get dinner ready.
Auntie helps when she can, but the stairs take a mighty effort for her to climb. Mary often leaves Kenny with Angie and takes Joy, and sometimes Nettie, to her dress shop. My daughter just plays with scraps of fabric and thread, but Joy, at five years old, is learning to sew. I remember the Kid's ma teaching her daughters to sew when they were little. Joy's first creation was a lopsided square potholder for Auntie. She stitched it out of scraps and then went around the edge with uneven stitches big and small, but Auntie was delighted and rewarded Joy with a bigger piece of pie that night. I wish Chrissy had been here to see that.
Our contractor, Mr. Russell, arrived unexpectedly to discuss the building plans for Phoenix. Vince saw him coming up the road and went down and opened the gate for him. When he learned who he was, he brought him right to my small stable office. I recognized him, even though he wasn't dressed in his work clothes.
"Mr. Russell, welcome. We weren't expecting you until next week," I greeted him, extending my hand. The plans were ready but I didn't know if I was ready to discuss them with him, especially without the Kid. But it's been forced on me now and I'm determined to handle it well.
He looked around nervously. "Hello, Mr. Heyes. How are you feeling?" he asked.
"Ah, just fine, thank you. And you?" I answered.
"Fine. Is Mr. Curry around?" he asked,.
"No, he's out of town. How can I help you?" I asked.
"Well, I just took a chance and stopped by. Finished our last job a few days early. Thought we could start over here. When will he be back?" Russell asked.
He was watching me closely and it made me uncomfortable. "I can help you, sir. Would you like to start by seeing the damage?" I told him.
"I'll come back when Mr. Curry returns. When did you say he'd return?" Russell asked again.
And I realized what was wrong. The first time he was here, I was just out of prison, still on parole, introverted with few if any words and unable to look him in the eyes. He'd watched over me when the Kid had to be away from Phoenix, but always seemed a bit scared of me. I designed the floorplan for the addition of me and Angie's bedroom but was not involved with him with the contracts or his payment. He dealt with the Kid.
"Mr. Russell, the Kid will be gone for a few days. I am now the Operations Manager of Phoenix and can help you with whatever you need." I forced myself to speak in a strong, firm voice. From the catalogs, me and the Kid and our wives and even Auntie, Michael, and Martha had decided just how we wanted the repaired Phoenix ranch house to look. "If you'll come with me to the house, I'll show you the damage and my sketches for the construction." I led him out the barn door where the destruction to my bedroom was visible.
I saw his hesitation. "Mr. Heyes, I…I've always dealt with Mr. Curry," he insisted.
But my stubborn streak was coming to the surface, and I wasn't going to let this go. "Mr. Russell, I can either show you the damage and the sketches of what we'd like to do with the house now – I believe you'll find our plans very buildable – or you can leave, but if you leave, don't come back." I said the last with the smile only the Kid and Angie can tell isn't sincere. "What's it going to be?"
Studying the damage from the stable door, he made his decision. "Let's go see the damage, Mr. Heyes, and those plans. I'd like to take them with me before I give you a final pricing."
I realized this was hard for him. I've changed so much since the first time he worked here. "Thank you. This way," I said.
NOTE: Budget is what briefcases were called in the 1890s. It is derived from the Latin word 'bulga' or the Irish word 'bolg' both meaning leather bag. The financial term 'budget' also comes from this.