Winter's Refuge
Chapter Two Hundred Seventeen
JED 'KID' CURRY
It was about eight steps to the warden's door. I felt the dark evil of this buildin' close in on me until all I could see was that door and all I could feel was the hopeless fear of panic. The warden's assistant got to the door first. I watched him turn the handle and push the door in and I wanted to run.
"Gentlemen, Marshall Trevors, Jed Curry, I've been waiting for you," the warden said without gettin' up from his large chair behind his ornate desk.
HEYES
"Are you finally taking me to see my nephew?" asked Great Uncle Charles McNamara.
"Uncle Jed working," Nettie answered him. I realized that Ruth Ann and Nettie were both standing up, holding on to the back of the driver's seat, and staring at McNamara.
"Both of you turn around and sit on your bottoms. Nettie sign that to Ruth Ann. And never stand up in a wagon. You know that," I told them sharply. I want to always be nice to our precious kids. Me and the Kid never thought we'd get married, much less have little ones. Talking firmly to them sometimes hurts my heart, but if it is for their safety, I do it without regret.
"Yes, Papa," Nettie's hurt voice came from the back of the wagon. I didn't hear another word from them the whole trip but that just means they were using sign language to communicate all that time or fell asleep. It had been a busy morning and when I turned around to check on them, they were both asleep. I think it's a parent thing. I can tell they are truly asleep by their breathing. These two were asleep. Ruth Ann once told Angie she could hear in her dreams sometimes. I'm not sure about that because she's never been able to hear what words sound like.
"And Mr. Heyes, just where is Jedediah?" McNamara demanded. His right hand was holding tight to the seat. In his left, he had his cane firmly planted on the boards of the wagon. He lived in a big city, Philadelphia, and probably rode in carriages or buggies when he went out. All the Kid has ever told me about Philadelphia is that it was dusty. Now he was in an open wagon, bouncing down a hard packed dirt road to a ranch. Had he ever even been out of the city before? I had a lot of questions for this man, but held my tongue as all his replies so far had been sharp and unpleasant.
"The Kid is working with Marshal Trevors and a couple of others to catch the Black Brook Outlaw Gang," I said quietly, not wanting the young ears in the back to wake up and hear. When I turned around to look at them, they were both still asleep. "Are you enjoying the ride and view of the country around here?" I asked.
"Pitted dirt roads in a rickety wagon is something to endure, not enjoy," he answered, stamping his cane once for emphasis. "When will Jedediah return? I would like to see him before I go back to Philadelphia."
"Any day now," I answered and was quiet the rest of the trip.
When I turned off the main road, he read the signpost. "Curry Road? Who named it?" he asked. His tone was no nicer after the ride.
"I did. A ways up, that's our library and Ken's Boot and Shoe Emporium on our right. Then the Kid's blacksmith shop is on the left. And Clark Photography is almost to our gate," I explained proudly. It's amazing how this place has grown since the Kid brought me here.
"Must you insist on calling Jedediah the Kid?" Great Uncle complained. "It makes him sound like an outlaw."
"Well, we are outlaws, just reformed ones," I answered. My patience was wearing very thin.
"And Jedediah is only a dirty blacksmith? How menial. I thought he was a gentleman horse breeder, according to that Dr Arden." Every word that McNamara said now rubbed me the wrong way.
"THE KID went through hell in an Arizona prison railway camp to learn to be a blacksmith so he would have a trade when he was released from prison. Don't you ever, ever look down on your nephew. HE'S the only reason I'm alive. His hard work and dedication built this place and this family!" I said firmly and decisively. And then I was sorry I had spoken to this old man so harshly…our only connection to the generation before us.
I used the stop to get out and open the gate to calm myself. I couldn't read McNamara's face as he stared straight ahead.
"I apologize, sir, but the Kid is my hero and I don't take to people saying otherwise," I said as I climbed back into the wagon.
He didn't answer and we rode in silence to the house. I shouldn't have let myself talk to him like that. I should have had patience. The girls woke up when I turned the wagon and parked it parallel to the side of the porch. This allowed Great Uncle Charles McNamara to have only a small step off the wagon onto the porch. I didn't say anything but was ready to run around and help him if he needed it. I didn't need to worry about it. I gave him as long as he needed, and he got onto the porch himself.
"This is Great Uncle," announced Nettie to the family gathered to greet him. She took his hand and with Ruth Ann by her side, led him into the living room and to the kitchen table. I was curious what Ruth Ann was signing to my Angie that made her furrow her brow and shake her head.
"You mustn't say that he's mean," Angie had signed back. "Welcome, Mr. McNamara, sit down. Would you like a cup of coffee…or tea?"
"Who are you?" he asked her without a hello.
"This is my wife, Angie…and Nettie is our daughter. We have a son named Alexander," I said in a measured tone.
He sat at the head of the table. We usually reserve that chair for the Kid but today I wasn't going to argue. "Coffee…black," he said.
"Right away, Mr. McNamara," Angie said as Nettie sat on one side of him and Ruth Ann the other. The little kids-Catherine, Diane Frances and Josiah and Wayne Trevors-climbed up onto the long bench on one side of the table and stared at him.
"Any of these belong to Jedediah?" he grumped.
I picked up Nettie and put her on my lap so I could sit near to Great Uncle. When I call him that in my mind, I'm reminded to have patience. He's elderly. He's family. "All of them except this one and little Wayne there," I answered.
"Coffee's cold," he told Angie, banging his cup down. .
"Are you hungry, sir? I can offer you some stew or a sandwich," Angie said.
"Stew," he said.
"Mister, what's your name? I'm Diane Francis."
"This is your Great Uncle Charles," I explained.
All of the kids started asking questions, including the little twins and Catherine. Great Uncle looked annoyed as Angie put his stew in front of him. "Where's my spoon? Expect me to eat it with my hands?" he grouched.
Angie gave me a look before she reached over to the sink and picked up a clean spoon.
Josiah had gotten up and gone into the living room. Now he was back and pulling on Great Uncle's sleeve as he lifted his first spoonful of stew to his mouth.
"Sir," the boy started, but startled Great Uncle. Instead of the stew going into his mouth, it spilled down the front of his shirt and onto Josiah, who started to cry.
Great Uncle looked at the boy with disdain. Then he glared at Angie. "Haven't you heard that children should be seen and not heard?" he whined, as she handed him a towel to wipe himself off.
Vince and Rocky appeared at the kitchen door. "Mrs. Heyes, we could smell that excellent stew of yours all the way to the stables," Vince said.
When they were washing their hands at the sink, Great Uncle exploded, "Don't tell me you allow the help to dine with you?"
Chrissy chose that moment to call from the bedroom.
"Please excuse me," Angie said hurrying from the kitchen. I could tell she was holding back tears…and I was holding back my outrage.
"Josiah, come over to the sink," I told the crying, little boy. I Iifted him up to sit next to on the edge of the sink.
"Wanted hug him," he said through his tears.
Great Uncle addressed me. "Where did she go? I want more stew."
"Mama gave us a new brother," Diane Francis answered.
"Another one? That makes five children on a mere blacksmith's pay? Where's that stew?" he demanded.
I winked at Josiah as I took his dirty shirt off. "Worse than that, sir. He's got eight. The older three are at school," I explained.
Vince and Rocky just stared at our guest, but I could see the amusement in their eyes.
"Then why did that Dr. Arden ever tell me that Jedediah had plenty of room for me to move in with his family?" he asked.
"I believe I once heard your sister, my Aunt Keara, say that Irish walls stretch. There's always room for more," I said. I heard the harsh tone of my words and concentrated on Josiah.
"Mr. McNamara, Mrs. Curry would like to speak with you," Angie announced when she returned to the kitchen.
"When I get more stew," he answered.
"No, sir. She said now. First door on the right," Angie said, as she handed him his cane. We all watched as he walked down the hall.
"Mrs. Curry, I am Charles McNamara, your husband's uncle," he started. That was all he was allowed to say for the next five minutes.
"I know who you are, Mr. McNamara. And I know you were welcomed into my home as family. But you do not seem to appreciate my kindness. From the letter that your priest wrote to us, I was under the impression that you had no place left to live and no family left. Well, we are your family, but you have treated us horribly so far. You demand things with stern words, no manners and no please or thank yous. You have treated Mrs. Heyes as your servant. She is not. No one in this household is a servant. I'm told that you consider your nephew's work as a blacksmith demeaning. It's a good honest trade. He and Heyes are well respected members of this growing community.
"I heard you speak sharply to my kids. Here they are seen AND heard and cherished. We encourage that. There is nothing here but love. Those two men you insulted out there do work for us, but they are also our friends. You don't know your nephew very well. He treats every man, woman, and child with respect and kindness.
"I sent for you to come live with my family as I understand what each generation can pass to the next. I hoped that you would embrace your great nieces and nephews, but that doesn't seem to be what I am hearing from the other room.
"The room to our right is set up as your room. Your bags are already in there. I suggest you go in there NOW. Rest. Think about what I said and decide if you can be a loving member of this family, which includes the Heyes family. Do not expect to be waited upon. If you don't think you can do that, we will pay for your transportation back to Philadelphia and see that you find a comfortable place to live, and we will pay for that and provide you with a small monthly stipend. You have a lot to think about. Please think carefully."
"Yes, ma'am," we heard Great Uncle Charles McNamara say meekly. We heard his cane hit the floor as he walked to his bedroom.
Nettie had been signing Chrissy's words to Ruth Ann. Now Ruth Ann signed to me, "Did Mama just send Great Uncle to his room?"