Winter's Refuge
Chapter Two Hundred Eighteen
LOM
I could feel the Kid's emotions, even though he tried to keep them inside. I know him too well. This place brings back the absolute despair that almost drove himself to take his life. There's something evil in the walls that grabs his soul. And I can tell from the way he held his shoulders back and stood tall and ignored the pain in his thigh that he was fighting his own desperation as we entered the warden's office.
JED 'KID' CURRY
I looked straight ahead when we entered the warden's office still tryin' to figure what I had done wrong. Or maybe I hadn't done nothin' wrong, and he was goin' to make something up. I ignored the growin' pain in my thigh that standin' was causin'. I won't let him see me in pain…see a weakness to exploit. I heard a knock on the private door and the sound of shackles fallin' to the floor.
"They're here, sir," a guard said respectfully.
"Come," answered Warden Mays.
I didn't know what was goin' to happen. I looked at Lom, whose expression told me to relax. He can do that. He's never been a prisoner here.
The door opened and Matt McWinters walked through, givin' me a smile that always reminds me of Chrissy and little Catherine. He was followed by a man I didn't know. The guard closed and locked the door from the outside.
I knew better than to approach Matt. His smile was enough to tell me he was happy I'd come. He quickly lowered his eyes and stared at the floor without movin'.
"Marshal Trevors, Curry, this is Dr. Paul X. Pollia, our prison physician. The guard told me you both were limping so I asked him to examine you," the warden said.
"Why here, sir?" Lom asked the question that was in my mind.
"First, I must congratulate you, Marshal Trevors, on the capture of the Black Brook Gang. They have been terrorizing, robbing, and killing citizens of Wyoming for almost two years. Law enforcement, private and state, have had no luck capturing them…but you did," the warden said.
"Thank you, sir," Lom answered. The warden hadn't answered why we were in his office and I wondered why he had been considerate enough to call the doctor for us. Matt hadn't moved, but Dr. Pollia had come in and put his black medical bag on the ornate desk.
"And that is why, Curry, that you are visiting Convict McWinters here in private. The men you apprehended had a quick trial and are on their way here. It could be dangerous for the two of you, if they knew you were here. And dangerous for Convict McWinters, if they knew he had a connection to you, Curry. Prison riots break out quickly. This was my solution. You will leave by the livery door. Doctor, please inform me when you are finished and we will let them visit privately for fifteen minutes." The warden stood and knocked on the private door. It was opened immediately by the guard and locked again just as quickly.
I let out the breath I was holdin' and with it some of my fears of this cold, vile place. As soon as the door locked, Matt approached me, hand out to shake. Instead, I picked him up and hugged him tightly. "The hug's from your sister," I whispered in his ear. Usually when I give bearhugs like that, I swing him around but my leg wouldn't let me. "You've lost weight."
"Mr. Curry, I am glad to meet you. As Warden Mays said, I am Dr. Pollia. You are quite famous around here," he said as we shook hands. He's short with a soft belly on him, older than me, and wears small black rimmed glasses that he is constantly lookin' over.
"Nice to meet you, Doctor. It's good to know someone is watchin' over Matt," I answered.
He smiled. "I seldom hear the men referred to by their first name. It's nice. First, I'll examine your friend here… Marshal Trevors, wasn't it? You visit with Mc…er, Matt."
Lom and the doctor sat in a corner and Lom propped his leg up on a chair so the doctor could examine him.
"How's Chrissy?" were Matt's first words to me as we sat down.
"Healthy. With child. About a month more to go," I answered. I watched as a touch of anger passed quickly over Matt's features. He doesn't like that Chrissy always seems to be pregnant but accepts it. I understand. To him, he sees our lives progressing while he's stuck in here.
"Then I'll need a new picture of you all when the babe arrives," he said, with a smile.
"You got it. The photographer, Damian Crest, built a studio on Curry Road and lives in the apartment over it with his daughter. When he returns from New Mexico, I'll make sure that picture is at the top of his list," I told him. "Anything we can send you in here? I'll make sure some cookies and sweets are sent when I get home. This was kind of an impromptu visit."
The warden told me a little about you catching the Black Brook Gang. Impressive. That how you got shot?" he asked.
"Yeah. So, cookies? Cake? Cheese? Deck of cards?" I changed the subject. The warden must have explained the possible danger to him and I did not want to dwell on it.
"All of the about and paper, candles, matches, and pencils," Matt answered. "I dream about a day on Winter's Refuge. Growing up there I took the blue skies, the fresh air, and the freedom of riding a horse whenever I wanted, for granted. This place sucks all that out of me. You wouldn't understand the hopelessness, the desperation I feel in here. But then I look at Dr. Pollia, he's a wonderful doctor. I never thought about medicine, but I've found a purpose in healing. And he's willing to teach me. That's the only positive I can think of," he finished.
"Believe me I understand hopelessness and desperation," I told him but didn't explain. "Maybe some books for first year medical students?"
"I'd like that. Now tell me about each one of my nephews and nieces so I'll feel part of their lives."
"Mr. Curry, I'd like to see that leg of yours now," Dr. Pollia said. "I'm sorry I need you to drop your pants and long johns and lay on your good side on the floor. I apologize these are not ideal conditions. Oh my," he finished as he saw the blood that had escaped the bandage and now stuck to my long johns.
I needed to take my mind off the pain, so I started talkin'. "Been meaning to thank you for workin' with Matt. It sets me and my wife's mind easier to know he's workin' with you."
"Mr. Curry, Convict McWinters has proved to have a talent for medicine." He was searchin' his bag for somethin' as he talked. "Now Mr. Curry…"
"Jed."
"Jed, I am going to give you some laudanum to dull your pain. I'm afraid I need to open the length of this wound; some infection has set in," he said.
"Not an option today, Doctor. Me and my friend have to make a quick exit when you're finished, and that exit will be on horseback. Can't very well ride a horse when the stuff puts me to sleep."
"You don't understand, this will be very painful," the doctor explained patiently.
"I understand, sir," I said. I liked this man and the compassion in his voice. "Just give me something to bite down on and do it."
LOM
Like I said, the Kid is stoic. Matt and I turned our backs on the Kid and the doctor and talked about how the Kid came to get shot loud enough so that the Kid could focus on our voices to stand the pain. Matt was amazed at his strength. I told Matt stories of the Curry family and Phoenix.
"I know Juan and his family live at Phoenix. I'd love to see it someday. What of his ma, Miss Marina, and his pa, Mister Jose?" Matt asked. He was keeping the conversation going but his eyes were fixed on the Kid.
The Kid moved little and refused to complain as the doctor opened the length of the wound and sterilized it with something from his bag. Once he was satisfied, he worked quickly to sew up the wound with precise small stitches. He kept looking at the Kid's face for a trace of the pain, but I knew he wouldn't see any.
And then a thought struck me. In prison, any prison, the Kid's stoic, uncomplaining behavior might be interpreted as subservience, of a broken spirit. That was the farthest thing from the truth. The Kid was never broken in prison. In fact, he became a legend both in the railroad prison camp in Arizona for the changes he got made and here in the Wyoming Territorial Prison. The prisoners still talk about how he survived a day and night of torture meant to kill him and walked out of the prison on his own two feet.
I was worried about how far he was going to be able to ride after this operation. We are aways from the city of Cheyenne. The prison stands alone on the end of this road. Even the Kid has his limits, although few people have seen them.
"Books," Matt said. "I forgot to tell Jed I would like some new novels."
"I'll make sure we send some from Cheyenne. Any in particular?" I asked. I could see the doctor was bandaging the Kid's thigh.
Matt looked embarrassed. "Well, I enjoy the dime novels about Kid Curry and Hannibal Heyes. Everyone in here does," he said.
Laughing, I answered, "I'll see that a few are sent out here…maybe even get Kid Curry to sign them.
HEYES
Great Uncle Charles McNamara was still in his room hours later when Dr. Arden came out to check on Chrissy. Steven, Michael, Martha, and Joy arrived home from school soon after.
"What do you think of Charles McNamara?" Aiden asked with a wink.
Ruth Ann started signing. "I want to say he's mean, but mama says I can't. She sent him to his room."
I could tell Aiden wanted to laugh, but he got down on one knee. All the little kids gathered around him. "Mr. McNamara is elderly…"
"What's el-er-ly?" asked little Catherine.
"Old," answered Nettie. It was so hard not to laugh.
"Well, Miss Ruth Ann, I have news for you. You are not going to the Denver School for the deaf next month. I have to take care of my new daughter, and your ma has a new little one, too. Your Aunt Angie will be helping her," Aiden told them.
"What is your baby's name?" asked Diane Francis.
"Can she hear?" asked Ruth Ann.
"Her name is Rachel Denise and yes she can hear," Aiden replied.
"Great Uncle has someone who can't hear too," Nettie told him.
Aiden stood up. "Who?"
"He said his other sister's son," I answered. "I'll ask more if he's not grumping."
JED 'KID' CURRY
"Mr. Curry, your wound is infected. You have a fever. Somehow you were able to ignore both and travel here on horseback," Dr. Pollia lectured.
"Yes, Doctor," I answered, dreadin' what he was gonna say next. If what Warden Mays said is true, I have to leave, preferably before the Black Brook Gang convicts arrive. But I think the doctor's about to tell me I can't ride. I had not taken the laudanum so I would be able to ride.
"I'm sure your temperature will continue to rise tonight, and that leg should be kept flat and straight until it begins to heal," Pollia said.
"But Doctor…" Lom said what I was thinkin'.
"Yes, I know. Just a moment," the doctor said, knockin' on the door to the hall. "Guard, I need to talk to Warden Mays."