Winter's Refuge
Chapter One Hundred Ninety
JED 'KID' CURRY
Even though he was in a hurry, Aiden pointed out the places that he and Chrissy wrote about in their letters as we walked to the cottage. We hurried by the flower shop and the small food market. I stopped in front of a business that sold paintings. Aiden called it a gallery.
"This Roberto's paintings in here?" I asked.
"Yes, he has quite a few on display. He's the darling of Denver's art world."
I pushed the door open. It was very fancy inside and looked kinda empty. There were pieces of walls standin' not connected to anything. And pictures hung on them and around the walls. Aiden followed me in. "Which ones are his?" I asked him.
The man, dressed in a perfect suit who worked there, overheard me. "Which artist's work are you looking for, sir?" he asked politely, with a smile that made me like him.
"Roberto Malone," Aiden answered for me.
"Oh, he's very talented. We have several of his works over here." He led us over to the window where a wall of paintings was set up that could be seen from the street.
"Thank you. We're just looking today," Aiden said.
The man smiled again. "You'll enjoy his paintings, especially his latest ones of our fair city." he said, and left us to look.
The paintings were amazin' but only one showed a person. I like people in my paintings…or horses. I liked Chrissy's drawin' of Fall's Destiny she had sent us. The ones on that wall that looked out onto the street all seemed to be at night…or have a dark background. There was somethin' sad about the buildin's and empty sidewalks he painted.
But there was one set in the window. My eyes were caught by the picture of the flower shop we had just passed. The flowers looked real, touchable. I could almost feel the mornin' dew on the daisies. But the detail that held my gaze was the expression on the face of the lady sellin' the flowers. I haven't met her, but I feel like I know her. I thought of the drawin' of Ruth Ann swingin' that he had done. "He's very talented."
"That's one he just brought in yesterday." The salesman surprised me from behind. "It's a favorite of mine, one of the few that has a person. It's so bright and …and relatable. But I could never afford it on my salary."
Leanin' in, I read the card next to the painting. It was called 'Tillie's Flower Shop'. And Clem had been right in her letter, this man's paintings are gonna make him very rich.
HEYES
"Mrs. Heyes, it's remarkable that your family survived after I've seen the destruction that tornado caused. I hope your recovery continues," said Mr. Russell.
He became more comfortable with me as I showed him the damage in the house, the barn, Auntie's house, and a little of the stable. I concentrated on being outgoing and walking next to him or in front of him, not trailing behind as I had when he first met me. He's only known me to be silent and scared. When we finished, he joined me, Angie, and Auntie around the kitchen table. Vince and Rocky soon joined us as we spread out the designs I had made on the table. I'm not an architect and neither is Vince, but I think we did well enough to get Mr. Russell to understand what we wanted. I emphasized that the first thing we want accomplished is a new bedroom for Rocky. The plan is for a small room now, but I made sure the plan had room for it to be expanded as soon as his parole was completed.
Auntie set up the little kids - Nettie, Diane Frances, Josiah, Catherine, and Alexander - in the living room for their naps while Mr. Russell asked questions about our drawings. He also took notes with the stray comments we made with other things we may like. Vince took notes too. For instance, Auntie would like a dutch door for the kitchen door so she could open the top to let the heat from cooking out.
When Michael and Martha got home from school, Russell couldn't contain his curiosity any longer. "Mr. Heyes, are these your children or Mr. Curry's? I don't recall either of you having any when I added the second story…or even when I added your bedroom. Of course, I only worked in the mornings on that and didn't go into the main house."
Martha answered him. "I'm Martha Curry and Jed Curry is my pa. When we were little, my twin Michael and I lived with Auntie, so we weren't here when you added our bedroom upstairs."
"And I'm Michael Curry." Michael kept his voice low, looking at the napping little kids. "There's seven Curry kids and three Heyes cousins. Sam, the oldest, is away at school."
Russell nodded. "Well, I guess we'll have to make sure there's room for all of you."
"Ma's with child again," Martha added.
"There will be room for all of you to grow up here," Russell repeated.
JED 'KID' CURRY
When we turned onto their street, I knew just which cottage Aiden was rentin'. The white picket fence and the flowers inside it were just as Chrissy's letters described. If I had known she liked white picket fences, I would have built her one the first day we came to Phoenix. Why hadn't I asked her? I should have asked her. I got nervous as we got closer, but I know how to keep that inside.
The front door wasn't locked, and Aiden just pushed it in. And I saw Chrissy and that a man who must be that Malone guy bendin' over a pot on the stove, their heads almost touchin'. He fed her from a wooden stirrin' spoon over the food…and she giggled. "Very good. Very very good," she told him.
I just stood there right inside the door and felt like I was intrudin'. They hadn't seen me; I can left right then. But then Aiden announced us with a loud, "Hello. Look who I brought home!"
Interrupted, they turned abruptly. Malone looked guilty, but Chrissy flew to me so quickly I just had time to get my arms up to catch her.
"Jed! Oh, Jed!" She wrapped her arms around me and I could feel her growin' belly against me. "I missed you so much!"
Huggin' her back, I went to kiss the top of her head, but she turned her lips to me and our embrace turned into a passionate kiss. And I knew that I shouldn't be jealous of the very handsome man in the kitchen who can cook and paint.
"Is dinner almost ready?" asked Aiden. "I need to eat quickly and pack. I'm going home tonight, and I'll return Sunday on the late train."
Chrissy moved to my side but kept one arm firmly around my waist like she was afraid I was gonna run off. "Do you need help packing?" she offered. "Denise will be so excited to see you."
He smiled. "I hope I get a welcome half as enthusiastic as what Jed just got."
"What time is your train, doctor?" asked the handsome painter. "I can wrap your food up to eat on the trip."
Lookin' at this watch Aiden was surprised by the time. "Yes, I really need to leave right now. Some food to go would be welcome." Aiden disappeared into one of the bedrooms but emerged quickly. "Jed, I would have liked more time to talk to you, but maybe we'll have time when I return on Sunday. Oh, I need to send a telegram to Denise or maybe I can do it when I rent a horse at the Bridgeport livery." He put the wrapped food in his traveling bag.
"I rode Spring's Promise to Bridgeport this mornin' just so she'd be there to take you home. You've ridden her before," I told him.
"I have. She's quite a mellow animal. Thank you, Jed," he said as he waved goodbye and ran out the door.
"Dinner is ready," Malone said. As we moved toward the table, I untied and unbuckled my gun and laid it on a side table in the small sittin' room.
He pulled Chrissy's chair out for her and pushed it back a little when she sat down. Then he handed her a napkin.
"It smells so good, Roberto. He makes beef stew even better than William," she told me.
Chrissy and Roberto bowed their heads in silence for a moment when I sat down so I did the same.
"Who's William?" he asked, dishin' out liberal portions of his stew and returned the pot to the stove. He pulled perfectly lightly browned cornbread out of the oven and served it on a plate to us.
"William Knight is an eastern chef we came to know through our breedin' operation at Phoenix. He owns some beautiful papered mares," I answered.
"I've heard of a very inventive chef named William Knight," Malone said. "I wonder if this could be the same one? Last I heard, he was a guest chef at some Harvey Houses along the railroad. I heard some passengers traveled to where he was just to have his food." I could hear the admiration in the man's voice.
Chrissy smiled and her green eyes sparkled. "Yes, that's our William. He spends some time with us each year and tests new recipes out on us…and steals some recipes from Auntie, too. She's quite flattered when he does that."
"This stew is excellent," I told him, as I finished everything in my bowl, realizin' I hadn't eaten since I left home. "Coffee?" I asked, noticin' everyone had a glass of milk.
"Dr. Arden indicated coffee is not good for Miss Chrissy in her condition. So, I drink what she's having. If you would prefer coffee, I can certainly make some." Malone started to stand.
"No. No, milk it is," I told him.
"Dr. Arden usually took Miss Chrissy for a constitutional after dinner. I take her for one midday. Why don't you do that while I clean up?" he asked.
I wasn't sure what a constitutional was, but I was sure I was the one gonna be with Chrissy, not him.
"Yes, Jed. Let's go for a walk and I'll show you my small area of Denver," Chrissy said. "Just let me get my sweater."
When she left the room, I said, "Thank you for a delicious dinner, Mr. Malone." I went over and started to put on my gun.
"May I just hold your gun, sir?" he asked. "I've never really touched one. I'm honored to meet someone as skilled with a firearm as you are."
I looked for insincerity in his face or his tone but found none. I saw what worried me more, hero worship for Kid Curry and the reputation I keep tryin' to leave in the past.
"I must tell you, Mr. Curry, I was excited and anxious when I heard you were coming this weekend. You're everything about the west I dreamed of being all my life," he said, handin' my Colt back gingerly. Out of habit, I twirled it before I put it back in its holster. His eyes grew wide.
And I decided to tell him a bit of my truth. "I was anxious to meet you, too, Mr. Malone. I'd heard you were a painter and cook of some repute from Chrissy and Aiden's letters. Thank you for teachin' my wife to paint."
"It's Roberto, please. Miss Chrissy is a good student. I didn't realize how lonely my life had become until she moved in here. She has brightened my day. I'm afraid some of my paintings had grown darker since I lost my wife and baby. She's made me see the sunshine again," he told me.
Jealousy rose its ugly head, even with Chrissy's warm greetin'. This man with soft hands could offer her a different life, a life in the city with a white picket fence and all the time she wanted to paint. But she said she loved me, I argued with myself. She was happy to see me when I arrived, but she had settled for me, the man who left her pregnant, the man she went to prison for helpin', the man who gave her a life of hard work and kept her pregnant? What kind of a life had I given her? She deserved better than a washed-up, ex-convict gunfighter.
"Jed, I'm ready to go," Chrissy interrupted my thoughts. I wish Aiden had stayed or Heyes was here to talk to. I can feel my darkness growin' inside.
But Chrissy was smilin' as she took my arm, and we left. "You saw the white picket fence, just like the storybooks. And aren't the roses beautiful?" She held my arm tighter, guided me to the right and added, "Of course, they're not as pretty as Trinity Rose's rose bushes." She leaned against my side.
"They're real pretty. I never knew you were partial to white picket fences," I said.
She smiled up at me and the sparkle in her green eyes made me hold her closer. "In a lot of the ladies' romance books, the heroine lives in a house with a white picket fence. My ma had one at Winter's Refuge when we were little, but it was lost in a windstorm, and pa, well, pa was never sober enough to build her another one."
I was gonna tell her I'd built her one, but she stopped when another couple passed us. "Good evening," Chrissy said, noddin' her head. I waited and said nothin'.
"Beautiful evening isn't it, Mrs. Curry. Where is Dr Arden tonight?" the lady asked, eyein' me suspiciously.
"My husband came for a visit so Dr. Arden returned home for a visit," she answered.
I took off my hat. "Ma'am, sir," I said, extendin' my hand. I dont' know the etiquette for bein' introduced when out walkin' and don't want to embarrass Chrissy.
"Please to meet you, Mr. Curry," the man said, as the woman nodded to me. "Curry? Would that be Jed Curry?" he asked.
Another fan of the Kid Curry novels, I thought. But I was surprised when he said, "Jed and Christina Curry. I don't know why I didn't put it together before. You own Phoenix, don't you? My brother used your breeding program. Said it was the best in the west. He sure got a beautiful, strong colt. And he bragged that he met the Hannibal Heyes when he picked up his mare."
"What was the mare's name?" asked Chrissy. There have been so many over the years that I don't remember every one of them. The blacksmith takes up most of my time. But Chrissy knows every mare, and so does Heyes.
"Yellow Sapphire," the wife said. "And I saw the colt just a week ago. He's black with a long brown mane and tail and so playful. My brother-in-law is very proud of him."
"Yes, Fall's Destiny is his sire. He's a very impressive horse," answered Chrissy with a smile. "My husband and I must be going. I want to show him more of our little corner of Denver."
"Of course," the man said with a grin as we shook hands again. "And now I can brag to my brother that I shook hands with the Kid Curry." He laughed and his wife giggled. Me and Chrissy gave them small, polite, forced smiles as each couple went our separate ways.
My wife still held onto my arm and now she leaned her head against my shoulder. We turned a corner and she stopped abruptly. "Roberto is painting that park over there." She pointed across the street. "And he's teaching me how to draw people that sit on that bench."
"You enjoy drawin' and paintin', don't you?"
"Yes, so much. Would you like to see my drawings when we get back? I'm afraid that they are not very good, but I do enjoy it." I could see that sparkle in her eyes and hear the joy in her voice.
"I'd love to see them all," I told her.
She hesitated for a second before she answered, "Good," and pulled me on down the street. She stopped in front of Tilly's Flower Shop, the one me and Aiden had passed earlier. And the one Roberto had painted with such feelin'. It was closed, but she looked into the window. "Tomorrow we come here and get two daisies, one white and one yellow."
"Is this the lady that gave Ruth Ann the daisies? I suppose hers are dead by now. Yes, yes, it's a good idea. We'll replace them. You haven't shown me her swing yet. We all enjoyed the picture of her usin' it that Roberto drew. He's very talented."
"He only started doin' people again the last week. And he's so good at it."
She led me into the mercantile. "Beautiful evening isn't it, Mrs. Curry," the clerk said.
"Yes, Mr. Honeywell, it is." While she answered, she directed me to the front counter. "This is my husband, Jed."
"Ahh, Mr. Curry, I've been looking forward to meeting you." Honeywell held out his hand. As I shook it, I thought this is another man who can brag he shook Kid Curry's hand or he wants me to sign one of them dime novels.
"Nice to meet you. Impressive store you have here," I said, as I looked around.
"Oh, I just work here but I want to show you something." He slipped behind a curtain but returned almost immediately. "I understand you made this." He showed me one of my belt buckles that I sell in Jeff's mercantile in Three Birds.
It was not a dime novel but one of my earlier buckles. I've since learned to make them lighter and more detailed. "Yes, it's one of mine. How did you get it?"
"Cousin of mine traveled through a small town called Three Birds and bought it in the mercantile there from a clerk in one of them rolling chairs. He said it was made by their local blacksmith, Jed Curry. I tried writing to him a while back but got no answer." He handed the buckle to me. I could see it was well used and gettin' ready to break where it had strained to hold a belt cinched too tightly.
"A blacksmith should be able to fix this. There one nearby?" I asked.
"He said he don't fix things like this. I need a jewelry maker." The clerk took the buckle back and looked at it wistfully. "It's my favorite. I wore it every day. Can you fix it? I'll pay you."
It was a simple fix and another simple fix to make it stronger so it wouldn't break again. If I were home, I could repair it in half an hour. I sighed. "I can take it home with me to Three Birds, fix it, and bring it back in two weeks when I come back," I told him.
He looked relieved, "Thank you, sir. Like I said, it's my favorite from my favorite cousin."
I nodded and paid for the few items Chrissy placed on the counter.
"Sir, one more thing. That cousin I mentioned owns this mercantile and he keeps talking about selling those buckles here. Would you be available to talk to him about it?"
I looked at Chrissy and thought about our walk. "Not today, but tell him when I return, we can talk business." I held out my arm to my wife. "Shall we, Chrissy darlin'?"
HEYES
I convinced Mr. Russell that I have changed, recovered, but every time he objects to something in my plans, I have to fight to stay strong and not be subservient. He's in charge of construction here. It's not the same as being in power, but I remember when I was just out of prison. First, I was scared and suspicious of him, then I looked to him for direction and protection when the Kid was gone. So, I sit up straight and repeat to myself that he works for me. I am in charge. I have the power.
"Mr. Russell, I understand that it may be disjointed for you to do this one bedroom first, but it is necessary," I told him, pleased that there were touches of my outlaw leader's voice in my words.
"Heyes, it is hardly cost effective. You're making this harder for us. Can't we just make this into the larger room with windows that you have drawn here? If we're going to build it, might as well build it as the finished product," Russell returned. I could tell this was a man used to getting his way. He's been very successful since he last worked for us, and I think he is used to his suggestions or changes not being challenged. But this is important. And I know the Kid would agree with me.
"No, our need is for it to be small for now, with only an interior window," I said firmly.
He shook his head. "Heyes, reconsider. Building it first and small will cost you almost double in labor and costs to enlarge it later."
Angie and the others at the table know why this room for Rocky has to be first and just so, but they are looking to me to talk to Russell. I repeat to myself, that I am in charge. He will be working for me.
"Mr. Russell, this room will be built small to my specifications, and it will be built first," I repeated. Inside I'm quaking and I know if he objects again, I will not be able to hold my own. I'll tell him to go and deal with the Kid. I found my courage and looked him in the eyes. "Agreed?"
"Agreed," he answered. I could tell he was mad. "I'll take these plans with me and meet with Mr. Curry next week."
"You'll be meeting with me. That is a copy of the original in my office. I will ask Mr. Curry to attend, if he's free," I answered. I needed him to leave because I couldn't hold this demeanor much longer.
"Very well. Good day," he finished grabbing all the papers, not bothering to fold them up and hurried out the door.
Hurrying to the stable, I knew I was breathing fast. I could feel my heart beating even faster, but I just needed a couple of minutes to get to the solitude of my office. As I started to close myself in my office, Angie followed me in.
"Heyes?" she asked, and I fell into her arms. Embarrassed, I started to cry.
She said nothing, but held me, patting my back to comfort me. Finally, she whispered, "You were magnificent with Russell. I know what an effort that took."
I sat down and pulled her on my lap. "Russell knew me at my worst, just out of prison, paranoid. I had to show how I've changed," I said as an excuse for my actions.
"You handled that as a very impressive Operations Manager of a successful horse ranch. Probably only Jed and I would know how hard that was for you…"
I stopped any further conversation with a passionate kiss that might have grown into something more if Martha hadn't banged on my office door. "Uncle Heyes, Aunt Angie, I think Josiah stuck a bug in Diane Frances' nose."
I stole one more kiss from Angie and whispered, "To be continued," before we hurried to see what the Curry kids were up to now.
JED 'KID' CURRY
When we returned, Roberto had set the table for two for dessert with placemats and small delicate plates with a piece of pie on each, a small one for Chrissy and a large one for me. He pulled out the chair for Chrissy and handed her the napkin.
"Roberto, thank you," she gushed.
"You're welcome. I had intended to be gone by the time you returned. Miss Chrissy, should I expect you for your lesson tomorrow?" Roberto asked, hopefully.
"Oh yes. I want my Jed to see what I'm working on," she answered.
"Thank you for all this," I said, motionin' to the set table.
"My pleasure. It was nice meeting you. Goodnight," he said, holdin' his hand to shake.
His handshake was firm, but Clem had been right in her letters, his hands were soft.
ASJ*ASJ
"Jed, you wanted to see my drawings?" Chrissy asked me.
"Yes, are they here? Or next door at his house?" I asked. I know my words had a jealous edge to them, but I couldn't help it.
Chrissy didn't notice. "They're right here." She brought them into the sittin' room and spread them on the sofa. " Look!" I heard the excitement in her voice, and it made me smile.
There were six drawings. Between the pictures was a bag of peppermints. "For you," Chrissy said, pointin' at them.
Kissin' her, I said, "Thank you," and popped one into my mouth.
The first drawin' was this cottage. It was recognizable, but out of proportion. The one next to it drew my eye. It was a person. "Roberto? I asked, pointin' to the picture.
"Yes, I'm surprised you recognized him. I'm not very good at drawing people. I threw out all of the portraits except that one. Next week, he's taking me to the park to draw the people on the bench so I can learn," she answered.
"It's better than I could ever do," I told her. Her best ones were the four drawings of horses. "Fall's Bells, Winter's Glory, Summer Solstice with her filly Callie, and Spring's Moirai," I said, touchin' each picture. "Chrissy these are very, very good. And you did them from memory, too!" I picked her up carefully and swung her gently in a circle. "My wife, the artist."
She giggled and laughed. "Finish your pie and let's cuddle."
Me and Chrissy retired to her bed early. "My bed was empty without you," Chrissy said.
"I slept in the overstuffed chair in our bedroom. I was lonely, too," I answered.
She went to take my hand, but I turned and picked up my bag and carried it into the room. She was slippin' into a light nightgown by the time I got there. I walked to the other side of the bed and started to undress. I'm never nervous with Chrissy, but tonight I was…self-conscious.
"Cuddle me," she said, as I got under the blankets. I rubbed my thumbs over the tips of my other four fingers and felt the callouses and scars. Then I rubbed my rough palms with my four fingers and pulled my hands into fists.
"Cuddle me?" Chrissy said, only this time it was a question as she sought my eyes. "Jed, you don't want to cuddle Chrissy darling?"
I wanted that more than anything, but my hands would feel rough against her soft skin, so I hesitated.
Chrissy sat up. "Jed, you find someone new, prettier, and younger than Chrissy darling while I'm gone?" she asked quickly.
"Never!" I answered. "It's just that…that…" I held my fists out to her. "My hands are so rough, calloused. Ain't never gonna be soft like Roberto's," I whispered.
She took a fist in each of her hands and opened them. Raisin' them to her lips, she kissed each one. "I love the touch of these hands on my body. I feel your love in these hands. You work with these hands for me, for our family. I can read your life in these hands. Cuddle me."
We cuddled and let the night take us where it would. Wakin' up soon after dawn, I laid there with my wife in my arms and was happy. But I was worried that she had thought I was unfaithful.
When she stirred, I kissed her and said, "Good mornin'. I hear you make a good breakfast," but we stayed holdin' each other until my stomach told us it was time to eat.
ASJ*ASJ
Friday mornin', we did little except talk about the kids. She was hungry for news of the family, and I wanted to hear about her and Ruth Ann. About noon, she put on an old apron and picked up a canvas bag. "Time for my lesson. Are you coming?"
"Do you want me to?" I asked.
"Oh yes. I want you to see my latest picture. MY first real painting, not a practice one. It's not very good but I'm learning.'
Roberto was looking at the sun and adjusting two easels set up on his front porch.
"Jed, come look!" Chrissy pulled me to see the picture on her easel.
It was the drawin' of a horse, only the back part of the horse and the mane and tail had been painted. And it was beautiful. "Winter's Glory!" I leaned closer to see the details. "It's perfect, you even got the slightly lighter black mane and tail right. And that look he gets in his eyes when he wants to run, and I don't let him." I picked my wife up and kissed her.
"She's a quick learner," Roberto said watchin' her, smilin'."
As Chrissy arranged herself on the stool in front of the easel, I tried to memorize the setup and the tools she had nearby…and remember what Roberto had said about the light. And then I saw the way that Roberto looked at her when she didn't see. She looks so happy and… what's the word… serene, sittin' there paintin' and listenin' to his tutorin'. And I was jealous again.
I backed away from his porch and just started walkin'. Chrissy was listenin' closely to Roberto's instruction and didn't notice. I didn't know where I was goin' but knew I had to get away. I walked to Ruth Ann's school and stood quietly at the gate knowin' my little one was inside. Remindin' myself Chrissy said she loved me, helped me calm my jealousy - calm, but not eliminate.
ASJ*ASJ
Saturday followed the same pattern of Friday, except there was no lesson from Roberto. In fact, he was nowhere to be seen. I agreed with Chrissy that the small backyard was beautiful. I tested the strength of the swing and then pushed her in it gently. She giggled and giggled. I noticed she made a point to hold hands with me today whenever we walked anywhere, and we took several short walks together. The only thing that I insisted on was goin' to the flower shop and buyin' two daisies, a white one and a yellow one, to replace the ones that had died.
We stopped at a cafe down the street for dinner. The staff asked after Aiden. And Chrissy introduced me as her husband to each one. And I heard the pride and love in her voice. Still, except for gatherin' the few eggs and makin' breakfast, she has an easy life here - no chores, no kids to chase, nothin' like a hardwork filled day at Phoenix.
As we held each other in bed that night, I got the courage to ask what had been on my mind since I arrived, actually, since I got her letters. "Chrissy darlin', why did you never tell me you wanted to paint?"
She rubbed the day's stubble on my chin. "It was a lost childhood dream. I'd sketch our horses at Winter's Refuge before pa started drinking. After that, I had no time. I didn't know I missed it until Aiden asked Roberto to give me lessons."
She snuggled closer. "Guess that's why drawing the horses is easier for me than drawing buildings or people. I always drew our horses."
In the quiet that followed she asked in a quiet voice, "Was there something you wanted to do when you were young?"
I nodded in the dark and I was glad she couldn't see my eyes fill with tears. "Chrissy, I dreamed of what we have - a beautiful wife, a houseful of kids, Heyes and his family nearby, a small horse ranch. And for so long I thought it was impossible, so I forced it to the back of my thoughts."
I felt her wrap her arms around my neck and pull my head toward her. She kissed me with passion. "It's a beautiful dream and I'm glad you chose me to share it with."
ASJ*ASJ
Sunday, we woke up early, this was Ruth Ann day! While Chrissy made breakfast, I shaved and dressed in clean pants and a long sleeve blue shirt that Auntie had ironed just before I left. Chrissy hardly touched her food, and we were both ready to go early. We walked to the school, hand in hand; her small hand feels so good in mine. Early, we waited outside the locked door. Only one other set of parents joined us. I would think every parent would visit every Sunday.
The gate opened precisely at nine. We let the other couple enter first, but we followed close behind, my eyes searchin' the grounds and the playin' kids for our daughter.
"Papa, Papa!" I heard Ruth Ann before I saw her and then she was flingin' herself into my arms. Laughin', I caught her and hugged her tight. Smilin', Miss Ellen followed her over.
"One of you must sign this release paper," she said, as she handed the paper to Chrissy. I admired how clearly she could speak.
Ruth Ann wouldn't let me put her down until we were a block away from the school. Even then, it was only to walk between me and her ma, holdin' hands with both of us. We picked her up and lifted her off her feet for a moment between us. And I thought yes, this was part of the impossible dream I had for my future, strollin' the street with my wife and daughter.
Then Ruth Ann danced in front of us, smilin' and signin'.
"Chrissy, you're better at her signs than me. What's she sayin'?" I asked.
Stoppin', Chrissy signed back. Ruth Ann answered and then slowly said, "Swing," out loud. It wouldn't have been understandable to anyone else but us. And to us words from this daughter were magical.
I picked her up and swung her around in a circle until she giggled. Then in my poor sign language, I answered her, "Yes, swing soon." There were so few words I knew. I need to work with Angie to get more.
Ruth Ann ran into the cottage in front of us and stopped to admire the "pretty flowers" as she signed to us by the table. Then, she vanished out the back door and was in the swing, smiling that smile that Roberto had captured in his drawin'.
I understood now what Chrissy meant in her letter that the day went too quickly. Ruth Ann gave us a paper with her report for the week. Since she is so young, they use stars for things she did well, one to three stars dependin' on how she did. She received at least two in each category except just one for conduct. We'll ask Aiden about that when he returns. At the bottom, Miss Ellen had written, "She finally understands the concept of NO, but doesn't like anyone to tell her NO. We will be working with her on that this next week."
Before we left, Roberto came over with a small bag of candies he had made for Ruth Ann and a wrapped paintin'. "I hope I wasn't too presumptuous in painting this. It formed in my mind when Dr. Arden told me about your triplets. It's meant to bring joy, not sadness."
Quickly, I looked at Chrissy, but she was unconcerned. I'll have to ask how the topic of our babies came up. It's not somethin' we share with strangers. Sittin' at the table, she opened the brown paper carefully so it could be used again.
"Oh!" Chrissy exclaimed as she saw the paintin'. She started cryin'. Puttin' my hands on her back I leaned over her shoulder and stared at the picture of our triplets. Josiah and Diane Frances were at the front of the picture, smilin' two-year-olds holdin' hands. Further back in the clouds was another little girl with angel wings and a halo holdin' a pink rose. All three kids were lookin' toward the painter. Cryin' myself, I reached over and picked up the paintin' to look at it closer.
"Thank you, Roberto, it's wonderful. How did you know what Josiah and Diane Frances looked like?" I asked. I couldn't take my eyes off of it.
"Miss Chrissy said they looked a lot like Ruth Ann with blue eyes and peach fuzz lighter than Ruth Ann's hair. She made me laugh when she told me how she tried to get enough of Diane Frances' short fine hair to tie a little bow in it. So, I added a tiny bow in the hair of both girls. You're not offended? Some people don't like to be reminded of their loss. But I've painted many pictures of my little angel, and they bring me such comfort."
"Thank you, Roberto," Chrissy said, standin' and givin' him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Jed and I will cherish this forever. Where's Ruth Ann? It's almost time to leave. Is your bag packed, Jed. Do you have room for this picture?" Chrissy was movin' quickly lookin' for our daughter.
"Check the swing and no, I'll be ridin' a horse from Bridgeport home. Don't want to take a chance of it gettin' damaged," I answered. I followed Chrissy out the back door and we watched our daughter on the swing.
"Time to leave," Chrissy signed and said.
Ruth Ann shook her head no.
I caught the rope of the swing and carefully repeated Chrissy's signs, "Time to leave."
"NO!" Ruth Ann said loud and clear. "NO! NO!" Miss Ellen was right that she had learned that word.
She pulled at my hand to let loose the rope. "Swing," she said, clear enough for us to understand.
"NO!" Chrissy said and signed, comin' toward us with a stern look on her face.
Ruth Ann gave one more try to loosen my hand holdin' the rope still before slidin' off. With a look at her ma's face, she raised her arms to me, sayin', "Papa," and signin' "Up."
Of course, I picked her up, and she hugged my neck tight as we walked to the school. I carried her in one arm. Chrissy insisted on carryin' my travel bag and holdin' my other hand. When we got to the school, I knocked on the locked gate. Miss Ellen opened it with a smile. "Hello, Ruth Ann," she said and signed.
Ruth Ann hid her face in my neck.
"Say bye-bye," I signed and pointed to Chrissy as I put her down. Miss Ellen held out her hand. With a sigh, Ruth Ann hugged her ma and then me and took that hand. And I understood what Chrissy meant in her letter when she said the sad look in Ruth Ann's eyes haunted her.
Walkin' to the train station in silence, we held hands. Aiden's train was arrivin' twenty minutes before mine left so he would walk Chrissy home.
"Jed, don't worry. Between Dr Arden and Roberto, I'm in good hands," Chrissy told me. She looked at me closely and I knew she saw the jealousy I was tryin' to hide. "Oh, Jed, I love you, only you. Always have, always will," she whispered so others on the platform couldn't hear.
"I love you too, darlin'." I didn't care if others were watchin', I took her in my arms and gave her a passionate kiss. She returned it, then pulled away and blushed.
"Jed, please wait for me. Don't find someone younger and prettier to share your bed," she said. And I realized that was her fear.
"OUR bed, darlin'. And you're the sweetest, prettiest girl I've ever seen. Never wanted no other. You were a dream, an unattainable future, when I was in prison. I had no hope that dream would come true. Now that it has, you're stuck with this man with rough hands forever."
"Good."