Lock

This is a little long (3000 words) but some of you will have read the first 1000 words before and can skip straight to the second section. Hoping this develops into quite a tale. Calx


Challenge - LOCK


Of all the Towns


Heyes’ mare danced in front of the way marker.  He had trouble keeping her there, obscuring the sign, as he only had use of his left hand. 


His right arm was strapped heavily across his chest, under his blue grey winter coat, immobile and thankfully no longer giving him too much trouble.  Kid had pulled the shoulder back into some sort of order, but they both knew Heyes needed to see a doctor, and quick. What were the chances a tree would drop a limb like that, just as they were passing underneath it.  Luckily for Heyes, his younger cousin had a way of staying calm and dealing with stuff, even when having obscenities hurled at him by a less than grateful partner.


‘Geez, it had hurt.’
 
Heyes had passed out for a while and woke to the breath-constricting hug of heavy bandaging and the insistent nag from Kid to try wriggle his fingers.  All fingers wriggled on command, and now the arm and shoulder felt comfortably numb. Still, they needed to find a town and a doctor before nightfall, and he’d been so pleased to see the way marker up ahead, he’d pushed on to read it.


“Five miles… that way.  Lesbastion? Never heard of it… quite small… Hopefully too small for a jailhouse… I need a drink …and a bed… Need to get this arm looked at…”


Heyes didn’t leave any gaps for comment, he pointed the way and encouraged Kid to pass him and take the lead.


Kid slowed, giving his partner a long cool look, from the mud-spattered boot heels to the battered black hat pushed right to the back of Heyes’ head.  He said nothing, not even slowing as he passed the dancing mare, and walked his big black gelding on down the road. 


He could read his partner like a book.  He didn’t have to look back to see the devilish grin he knew would be on his cousin’s face.
 
Heyes jogged alongside and managed to tone down the grin to a warm smile.


“Lesbastion… sounds like a real peaceable town” he said, quickening his mare’s pace a little.


“Think I’ll take me a look at that sign” said Kid suddenly, flashing his horse around on a dime, and jogging back to the way marker.


Heyes’ shoulders dropped, and the smile slid off his face into the dirt.


“HEYES!”


Heyes’ eyes shut, he didn’t turn.  He already knew what the sign said, but he really did have need of a doctor and a bed for the night; a real one, not just a bed roll on hard ground.  Now he’d stopped to think about his arm, it was starting to trouble him again.


“HEYES? DID YOU SEE WHAT IT SAYS HERE?”


Heyes rolled his eyes skywards lip syncing the words of the sign as Kid read aloud.


“BY TOWN ORDA…NANCE, SUBJECT TO THE MAYOR’S WISHES, ALL ARM…OUR…MENTS MUST BE SUR…RENDED AT THE SHERIFF’S OFFICE ON ENTERING THE TOWN AND MAY BE RE…DEEMED UPON LEAVING.  WE ARE PROUD TO DECLARE LES…BAS…TION A NO GUN TOWN.”


Kid’s head shook from side to side, his mouth hanging open in wonder.


“A NO GUN town?  Is that even …a THING? Can you believe that?  …. HEYES?.... Can you believe THAT????”


Heyes sat his mare, quietly studying his hand as it rested on the saddle horn in front of him. A dull ache was setting into his strapped arm, and he could have sworn someone was trying to take a bullet out of his shoulder with a rusty can opener.


He breathed slowly.  There really wasn’t anything he could say to Kid, that the Kid would listen to.


Kid came back along the road to join him.  A predictable rant issued forth mostly about needing to move on to the next town.  Heyes must have been doing a better job of hiding his discomfort up until now than even he thought, because when Kid got up close enough to look Heyes in the face, he stopped abruptly, mid rant.


Heyes saw the blue eyes dart around and close slightly.  He watched Kid pull his slicker out of his pack and start unbuckling his rig.


“What you doing now?” he asked quietly.


Of course, he already knew the answer.


“You gotta get yourself to a doctor… now Heyes… So, take off your rig… I’ll hang back … come in to town after dark… I’ll get our guns hid real good… up on the Hotel roof like last time…”


Heyes almost laughed but shook his head. 


Kid had a good memory. 


They had tried that, a long time ago now, in Utah, in a no drinking, no cussing, no shooting town called Ecclesiastes.  Kid’s memory wasn’t that good perhaps.  It didn’t end well.  It’s hard to go get your guns when you have to leave town in an awful hurry, if you have to scale a three-storey building just to do it. 


‘Guess them guns are still up there.’


Heyes chuckled to himself.


“No… no Kid… This time we’re gonna ride right into town… just like the law abiding, honest citizens we are… and ride right on up to the Sheriff’s office and hand in our hardware … Like a pair of Texas rangers…”


He raised his good hand to stop the tirade promising to burst from Kid in its tracks.


“… AND… we’re gonna smile while we’re doing it… just like no outlaws ever would… then… we’ll get us a room… and you can go get me a doctor…”


He winced, cupping his sore shoulder.


Kid’s face was stony.  If he had any arguments, they died on his tongue with that wince, just as Heyes’ had known they would.  Heyes watched as Kid’s lips moved in silent cussing.  The gun belt was re-buckled and tied, the slicker stowed, and the gelding pushed to a slow canter towards Lesbastion without another word.


Heyes followed, slowly, holding his arm tight against every bump in the trail.




Less than an hour later they rode slowly down the main Street of Lesbastion, hats set low over their eyes. 


Heyes wasn’t showing any signs of being in particular discomfit, but the empty sleeve of his winter coat had pulled free of the pocket and was flapping around in the stiff breeze. The fact that he could do very little about it, just added to the feeling of vulnerability he was already experiencing, since Kid had unhitched his rig and set it over the saddle horn in front of him.  


Like Kid said, better doing that out in the sticks than stood in a Sheriff’s office.  


The frustration of not even being able to unbuckle his own gun belt had soured the ex-outlaw leader’s mood.  Not even the promise of a drink and a soft bed could lift it.


Kid stopped his horse in the middle of the street, right out in the middle of the wheel ruts, to glance over at the name above the door.  A brief look over his shoulder to see Heyes’ imperceptible head shake, and he mosied closer to the hitching rail and stood down.  His arm lifted towards Heyes to offer assistance, and quickly found something else to do; a hat adjustment, lifting it clear of the blond curls for just long enough to give them a wet-dog style shake.


That look from Heyes would have dried his hair instantly if it had been wet.


The gunslinger squared up to the door.  He had both their rigs over one shoulder.  The cornflower blue eyes never blinked. Slowly he started up the steps to the boardwalk.


“Ahhh! Geez…. ****!”


Heyes hit the ground behind him with very little grace.


“I’ll thank you to mind your manners young man!” scolded a passing elderly lady.


“Yes… Ma’am” growled Heyes between gritted teeth.


“Ma’am” said Curry touching his hat.


Heyes was right behind him now. Time to do this. He squared up to the door again, standing his full height and grabbed the door handle.


The door didn’t budge an inch. 


Kid nearly head butted the door with the force of his determination to get this over with.  Heyes assuming his partner was competent enough to open a door, walked straight into the back of him.


“****! My arm… COME ON… this is no time f’r cold feet K…”


“ITS LOCKED! … alright?” said the gunslinger trying to regain his poise.


“Young man! … I only just now requested that you temper your language…” said the Scold returning to their side.   “Is it too much to ask that you keep a civil tongue in your head?”


Kid gave her the smile Heyes couldn’t quite muster.


“I’m sorry for my partner’s cussing Ma’am… but he’s in a might of pain… see a tree branch dropped on him …and put his shoulder out.  Do you have a doctor in town… Ma’am?”


Heyes leaned heavily on the locked door, rubbing at the offending arm and sweating visibly.


The lady softened and took on a concerned air.


“No… no… not permanently.  He comes by when he can.  At least once a month… but we haven’t seen him for some time now...”


“Is there another town … nearby… with a doctor Ma’am?” asked Kid, ignoring the exasperated sigh coming from behind him.


“Lord sakes Son… you can’t put …him …back on a horse… There’s nowhere within a coupla days anyways… Your friend need help… NOW… The very idea…”


“Yes Ma’am”


“You help your friend along to Mr Lucas’… over there …and I’ll fetch Mrs Alderly… She’ll know what’s to be done.”


“Mr Lucas’?… Mrs… Alderly???” said Kid, looking up at the sign above the locked door in disbelief.


The sign read Sheriff Lesley P Alderly.


The woman looked pityingly at the rather slow cowboy.


“Yes…. Mrs Alderly… Now just you concentrate on getting your friend over to Mr Lucas’... Right away!”


Her wagging finger took Kid’s attention over to the Undertakers across the street.


Kid smiled.  A lady sheriff? He’d never known that either.  That could explain the No Gun ordinance. Perhaps this town wasn’t going to be so bad after all.


“Yes Ma’am…” he grinned, reaching a hand back to his growling partner.



“But he ain’t …not even near dead …Ma’am…”he chuckled hearing Heyes’ hackles rising.


The lady was already crossing the street in the opposite direction on her errand of mercy.


“I can see that for myself young man.  Now… You watch your sass!” she threw back over her shoulder.


Kid turned to Heyes not entirely sure what his cousin would make of the idea of visiting the Undertakers.  Heyes growled out his compliance, sighed heavily, pulled himself to his full height, straightened his shoulders best he could and led the way.


“Yeah Kid… Mind your sass” he smirked as he passed his too amused partner.


They marched across the street to the Undertakers, Kid bending Heyes’ ears with his theory that the town sheriff was a woman called Lesley Alderly. Heyes wasn’t in the mood to even give that lame-brained theory an answer. 


Mr Lucas kept a neat and comfortable parlour at the rear of the work shop, with deep plush sofas for the newly bereaved to rest their grief, whilst he led them through the funeral expectations of the modern, up to date, fashionable recently departed.  He didn’t seem the least put out, that two strangers said they were to wait there for Mrs Alderly to say what was to be done about Heyes’ arm.


Kid, still sporting the lethal shoulder-ware, stood at the parlour door and looked about as comfortable as a groom on his wedding day.  His eyes flicked between the workshop and the street beyond, and the lace covered window set in the back wall of the small parlour.


Heyes availed himself of one of the comfortable couches, finding cushions to prop up his injured arm.


“What are you worried about Kid?” he asked, eyes closing as his unwashed greasy head lolled back on the anti-Macassar adorning the back of the pristine upholstery. 


“This here is a real peaceable town…. No guns … No Sheriff …male or female … a locked-up Jailhouse… and we’re on the right side of the locked door f’r a change! I think this could be a good place for us…”


“You forgot … no doctor… Heyes.  That was the whole point of risking a place like …this… remember?” hissed Kid from the door.


Heyes chuckled.


“What you beefing about… you still got your rig ain’t yer… You can’t… surrender it… if there ain’t no one to surrender it to…”


That sofa really was comfortable.  Heyes thought, just this once, he could just close his eyes like the Kid could, and be asleep in seconds.


“And no Saloon …Heyes…” drawled Kid.  “Did you see any Saloon out there on the street? …Coz I sure didn’t… What kind of town doesn’t have a Saloon?”


Morpheus abandoned Heyes.


“Huh?”


He hadn’t noticed.  That could put a crimp in his plans to play a little poker.  Wasn’t a lot else he was fit for till his arm healed up. How else was he to get them some money?


The sofa wasn’t that comfortable anymore.  A sharp pain stabbed his shoulder.


“Company” hissed Kid.


Heyes groaned, attempting to sit up a little straighter.


“Here he is, Mrs Alderly… I found him …by the Sheriff’s office… His ‘friend’ …there… was talking about putting him back on his horse… The very idea I said…. I told him…. Mrs Alderly will know what’s to be done… I said…”


“Thank you, Olive… I’ll take it from here…” said Mrs Alderly sweeping into the parlour passed Kid as he touched his hat with a silent Ma’am.
 
Mrs Alderly was the sort of person that commanded a room just with the aura of expectation that surrounded her. She turned to the smaller lady with an indulgent smile.


“Olive… Would you be a dear… and go and fetch the Sheriff?”


Olive looked slightly peeved to be so summarily dismissed, but took it in good part and turned on her heel and left. 


Heyes saw Kid’s eyes harden to flint.  Guess his theory of a nice weak woman sheriff, susceptible to his charms, just got blown out of the water and now he had a real sheriff to deal with and the parlour only had one exit.


“The Sheriff Ma’am?” Heyes asked quickly, drawing Mrs Alderly’s attention away from the riled gunslinger.


“That would be your husband Ma’am?”


“Yes” confirmed Mrs Alderly with a curt nod, approaching Heyes and telling him with a queenly gesture not to attempt to rise in her presence. 


“You’ll be wanting to surrender your arms to my husband’s care no doubt?”


“His arm Ma’am?” said a distracted Kid from the doorway.


“Your guns …young man… your guns! Or do you always wear them that way… over your shoulder? … No doubt you read my ordinance… Lesbastion is a no gun town … “


“Your ordinance Ma’am?”


“Ahh…” smiled Heyes drawing her attention again from his flustered partner.


“That would make you the Mayor of Lesbastion ma’am?”


 “Indeed!” confirmed Mrs Alderly finding this chatter unnecessary.


“NOW… I’ve asked Henry, to join us here presently.  There isn’t much about bone setting that Henry doesn’t know, you’ll have the use of that arm again for gainful employment in no time Mr…er…Mr…?”


Heyes’ eyes sparkled with mirth as he filled them with sincerity for the town’s Mayor.


“It’s Smith, Ma’am… Joshua Smith… but I’m pretty sure nothing is broken… there’s no need to bother…”


Light footsteps in the workroom got all their attention.


“You must be Henry?” said Kid, still standing sentry at the door but stepping aside to let a huge man mountain swathed in a leather apron enter the parlour.


“Yes… heard I was needed” whispered the colossus in a high falsetto.


“Henry… Mr Smith here has met with an unfortunate accident… seems he was careless enough to ride under a tree when it dropped a branch.”
Heyes’ mouth opened, but the force of nature that was Mrs Alderly did not give ground.


“His arm may be broken” she continued with not so much as a thought for even the briefest of introductions.


Heyes looked a might put out. No one seemed to be listening to him properly.


“There was nothing careless about it… and as I was saying… it ain’t broke…” he started as tactfully as he could manage.


Kid could hear the edge.


“Thank you, Henry…” said Mrs Alderly waving the giant towards Heyes as if he wouldn’t make the sofa without her direction.


Henry nodded deferentially to the lady, and sat precariously next to Heyes on the sofa.  He unwound all the bandaging and carefully probed the arm and shoulder never once making eye contact with his patient.


Heyes dropped his head in defeat, and carefully avoided seeing the smirk on the Kid’s face.


Henry was extremely gentle, his grip just like his voice, soft and calming until it wasn’t.  Suddenly he gripped Heyes’ shoulder and arm and pulled and twisted. A small pop and a twang accompanied Heyes’ expletives turning the air blue.


“Sorry” said Henry looking Heyes in the face for the first time. 


“Your fingers should go pink now …and they’re gonna throb some… but …you had some of your workings trapped up in there. At least you didn’t kick me.  Most of my patients try and get in a kick and a bite or two when I do that.”


Heyes, blinking back tears, looked dumbfounded by the idea that he should kick or bite the man.


“Guessing most of your patients have four legs Henry?” said the Kid helpfully.


Heyes, quick to recover, shook his head ruefully, hardly believing what he was about to say.  He smiled weakly, gingerly rotating his arm at the shoulder, noting the heaviness and tingling in his hand.


“Thank you… Henry…. I think? …You got it there… Thank you… I think you really got that… ”


He beamed a huge full dimpled smile, filling the room with its warmth.


Kid came over to stare at Heyes, who now seemed to have full use of his arm, fascinated by events. He nodded appreciatively for the Blacksmith’s skill, then remembered the lady in the room.


“My Partner apologises for the cussing Ma’am…” he said falteringly. 


 “He’s usually more mindful of a lady’s presence.”


Mrs Alderly raised a wry eyebrow not at all put out.  Something told Kid it would take a lot more than a little cussing to fluster this lady.


Over by the door there was a small cough.


“Did I hear a Sheriff was needed here?” said a tall white-haired fellow, sporting a tin star big as a hogs head on the front of his leather vest.


The boy’s eyes locked in alarm for just half a heartbeat. Kid swallowed.  Heyes recovered first.


“Sure did, Sheriff…” he smiled.  “My partner and I …understand …this here town …is a no gun town!”


Kid’s face was unreadable.  He still held Heyes’ gaze as his hand involuntarily tightened on the leather belts of their shooting irons.

     
Separation


He was quiet.  He was still when I first found him lying in the barn, and he continued to be so.

I don’t think he was by nature a quiet man.  There were laugh lines around his mouth and eyes.  Occasionally I would almost detect a twinkle, but it never became fully formed.

It was barely dawn the morning he appeared.  I had gone out to the barn to take care of the animals.  I knew it would get warm later, so I was trying to avoid what heat I could, it being a baking day.

The moment I entered the barn, I could feel the animals’ anxiety.  Then I noticed the new horse.  Its saddle had been removed, and an attempt made to groom it, but it looked sadly at me, wanting a bit more attention.  Some hay and grain had been given to it in the night, but by the way it was snuffling around, it knew it was time for a more substantial breakfast.

It was when I walked around the horse, that I noticed the man lying in the straw in the next stall.  His arm was wrapped in a sling, and beneath that I could see blood soaked bandanas.  There was blood in the hay.  No wonder the animals were unsettled.

As I knelt down, the man tried to stir, his other hand going for the gun still tied down on his thigh.  He was weak from the blood loss.  I easily took the gun from his hand.  There was fear and confusion in his eyes, but exhaustion too.  I set the gun aside and got up to fetch some fresh water.

I came back with a bucket and a cup.  I eased him up to have a drink, and I saw gratitude replace the agitation in his eyes.  I laid him back down and his eyes fluttered closed.

I didn’t know if I could save him, but I decided to try.  There was no doctor close, but out here on the frontier, we made due.  I had removed bullets before.  I brought hot water, clean cloths, and whiskey.  He sputtered when I gave him a drink, but he did get it all down.  I wouldn’t chance more, with all the blood he had lost, but he didn’t need more.  After the first attempt to remove the bullet, he had gone unconscious and remained that way until it was done.

If there had been a way to move him, I might have taken him into the house, but I figured that would do him more harm than good.  I brought out old, clean quilts, and changed out the straw that had been covered by his blood.  His body fought the fever, and I kept him cool with water from deep in the well.


He was almost well enough to move out of the barn, when Pa and Silas returned.  They were not happy that he was there, but I would not let them move him.  I had nursed him through the worst and would not let them throw away that effort.

I knew they were most upset that they couldn’t go straight into town to celebrate their earnings, with another man about the place.  I just looked at them and then at the very weak man still lying in the barn and laughed.  I went about my chores until they figured out it didn’t matter.

I told them what we needed from town, and I saw them off down the road.

The place became quiet again. 


“What’s your name?” I asked as I was bathing the latest layer of sweat from his skin.  His fever was almost gone.

“Joshua.” His voice was almost a whisper, so deep it was.  “And you?”

“Ellie.”  I finished up his bath.  “From Eleanor, the queen.  Ma liked to read.”

“I like to read.”  He tried to smile, but then a ghost passed his eyes, and they closed.


Later in the day, after the garden had been weeded and supper was cooking, I brought out a book, and started reading to him.  I thought he had fallen asleep again.

“I like Mark Twain’s books,” he said quietly, when I had stopped reading to take a breath, and fan myself in the growing heat.

“Do you need a drink?” I asked.

He nodded, and I got up and brought back cool water from the well.  After we both had a drink, I read a few more pages, then stopped when I noticed his eyes on me.

“I like Twain’s humor.”  I didn’t know what else to say.  Again a smile might have wanted to cross his face, but he either had too little energy or too little will.

“He is a people’s philosopher.”

I looked at Joshua, but he did not continue.  I closed the book, as supper needed tending to.

“Those men.  Who were they?”

“My pa and brother?”  I was confused, but then realized he must have been sicker than he let on, when they were here.

“Yeah.”  His eyes closed again for a beat, but then he forced them open.  “They be back soon?”

I shrugged.  It usually depended on how much money they had to waste on whiskey and women.  “Eventually.”

“What do they do for a living?”  

I met his eyes, and saw the knowledge there.  A chill went down my spine, but then I had to admit to myself that I knew what he was when he showed up gunshot in my barn.  

He sighed and muttered, “No matter how much we keep trying …”  Then a bleak look crossed his face, and he shut back down, as if his soul was under lock and key.

“I’ll bring supper out when it’s ready.”

He didn’t respond.


Pa and Silas showed up a couple of days later.  By then Joshua was able to sit up and even walk into the house with some help.  He had continued to sleep in the barn.

“What’s he doin’ eatin’ up our food?” Pa had asked the day after they returned.

“And causing you work, so our breakfast is late,” Silas groused.

“He ain’t eating more than a bird, and if you all had been up at a real breakfast time, you would’ve had it then.”  I fumed.  “I was out in the fields, not tending him.”  I stomped off to start a stew for supper.

When they left the house for the coolness of the porch, and a smoke, I went out the back door to check on the animals in the barn.  I found Joshua up and attempting to muck out stalls.

“You shouldn’t do that yet.”  I tried to take the shovel from him, but I couldn’t.  He eased it out of the way.  I looked up at him, his face still so somber.  He must be recovering better than I had hoped.  Either that or he had the constitution of a mule.  I had seen other bullet scars on his body, as I had bathed him while he was feverish.  This was not the first gunshot he had survived.

“Sounds like I gotta earn my keep.”  He looked down at me with a questioning tone.

“They don’t.”  I scuffed the straw with my boot.  “If it were up to them, there’s be no animals or crops.”

“They bring in money other ways.”

I nodded, and sighed.  “What they don’t drink up or waste away.”

He shrugged.  “That’s men.”

“I’d be just as happy without.”   I looked out the barn door to the green fields.

“Doubt if they would.”

“Reckon that’d be true.”  I met his tired eyes.  “Let’s get this barn cleaned up, and then you can rest again.”

I did most of the work, but left some for Joshua to do, so we both could honestly claim he was earning his supper.


It was a quiet meal, with Pa and Silas eyeing him, and Joshua just trying not to fall off the bench.  There was something about him that bothered both of them.  They recognized like, and they recognized superior.  They also noticed that while Joshua was cautious around them, he did not appear scared.  That bothered them to no end. 

“Where you from, boy?” Pa tried to intimidate Joshua, to regain his sense of control.

“Kansas.”  Joshua finished off the stew, and cleaned his plate with a biscuit.

“You ride with the Baker boys?”

“No.  Heard of them.”  Joshua paused, mainly to regain his breath, but he also raised his eyes and fixed them with a stare.  

“That’s enough yammering for tonight.”  I stood to pick up the plates.  “You two go out for a smoke.  Joshua will help me clean up.”

Silas laughed crudely.  “You a mamma’s boy, or just think you can get at my sister?”

I started to yell at him, but Pa beat me to it.  “You don’t go disrespecting your sister.”  Pa hauled Silas out the door.

Joshua made to get up from the table, but I gently pushed him down as I passed.  He glanced towards the door, and laid his head down on the table.  I cleaned up around him.  When I finished, we walked out the back door of the cabin back to the barn.

“You alright?”  I was worried he had done more than he should.

He nodded slightly.  “Any chance I can have my gun back?”

I looked towards the barn door, where I could hear Pa and Silas talking on the front porch.  I turned towards the stall where his saddle and bags rested.  “It’s in there.”  

He looked like it would take his last burst of strength to walk that far, so I brought it back to him.  He checked that it was still loaded, and slid it beneath the quilt by his head.

“Good night, Joshua.”

“Good night, Ellie.”


It was getting on midnight when I heard Silas ease out of the house, and make his way towards the barn.  I started to put on my robe, when I heard Pa follow him.  I silently trailed after them.

By the time I arrived, the situation wasn’t good.  Silas had thought to scare Joshua by knocking him around a bit.  He had tried to grab Joshua by the shirt front, which only resulted in getting a six gun pointed in his face.  He had not brought his gun with him, thinking there was no need.  Pa had come upon this situation, and pulled his own gun.

I was scared when I came upon all this, but decided my best option was to call their bluff.

“What on earth you all thinkin’ with your guns aimed hither and yon.  Gonna end up with more holes in some of you, and I ain’t gonna nurse you all!”

I held my breath and plucked Pa’s gun from his hand, pulled Silas away and tossed him into the other stall.  I met Joshua’s eyes, and he released the hammer on his gun, and handed it to me butt first.  He then slowly laid back down and struggled to keep his eyes open.

“You two!”  I shoved Pa and Silas towards the house.  “Go back to bed.”

“We’ll talk in the morning, missy.” Pa glared at me.

I nodded.  “Yes, Pa.”  He nodded back and hauled Silas with him.

After they left the barn my knees gave out and I collapsed in a heap besides Joshua.  I put my head in my hands, with the two loaded guns still in my lap.

“You all right?” Joshua’s tired eyes looked up at me.

I brushed a lock of hair out of his face, and nodded.  His eyes flickered closed.   I looked at him for a moment, and then lay down next to him, pulling the quilt over me.  His eyes opened for a moment, meeting mine.  I put his gun back under the quilt, where he could reach it, and I kept Pa’s close to me.  His eyes closed and so did mine.


The dawn woke me.  The chickens helped, and so did the cow, but it was the light that opened my eyes.  It was still shady in the barn.  I wondered for a moment why I was there, but then his eyes opened, and I remembered.

“I best get into the house before Pa and Silas wake.”  I stood up dusting hay from my nightclothes.

He sat up, a bit wobbly, but did not lay back down.  I helped him to stand, so he could take care of some business after I left.

“I’ll be back after I talk to Pa.”


“Ellie, it ain’t decent.”  Pa was trying his best to be reasonable, but being Pa it wasn’t easy for him.

“Pa,” I locked gazes with him.  “Joshua cain’t hardly stand.  I doubt if somethin’s even working yet.  You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I promised your ma that you’d be raised proper … “

“Heck, Pa, you and Silas be outlaws.”  I huffed as I finished up cooking the eggs for breakfast.  “I don’t think anyone proper would ever talk to me.”

“Now, Ellie … “

“Pa, do you have another job or not?”

“Well, yes.  There were this thing that Silas is eager to be in with, but I ain’t so certain.”

At that moment, the smell of breakfast cooking had brought my brother out of his bedroom.  “Now, Pa, we discussed this all.  It’s easy money.  It’ll be done and over and we’ll be back with loads of cash and not need to go out again for a while.”  He sat down as I put full plates for him and Pa on the table.

“You just see that he’s gone by the time we get back.”  Pa tried to look sternly at me, and Silas looked annoyed.

“I’ll do my best, Pa.  Cain’t make him leave ‘til he can sit his horse.”

“Ain’t no one come lookin’ for him?” Pa asked.

“No, Pa.”

“I bet he’s got a bounty on his head.”  Silas’ eyes gleamed.  “Or he’s got money on him from a haul.  Gotta be a reason he was shot, and running.”

“He ain’t got no money.”  I glared at my brother.  “I looked in his saddle bags.  He’s got two dollars and sixteen cents to his name.”
 
“See, Silas, your sister’s always been a smart one.”

“Guess I’m wrong.  If he was someone with a bounty on his head, he’d have more money on him.”  Silas looked thoughtful.  “Maybe he hid it somewhere.”

“Unless it’s in the manure pile, I would have found it.”  I glared at him.  “It’s me that keeps this place clean and tidy, ain’t it?”
 
“Yeah, got me there, Ellie.”  Silas looked disappointed, until he turned back to Pa with plans for their next job.  “Jacob Wheeler said this one’ll be easy.”

“Jacob Wheeler?” I exclaimed.  “You came back gunshot from the last job he planned.”

“That t’were an accident.”  Silas looked determined.  I hoped he was right this time.

They rode off the next day.


Joshua continued to improve.  I had never seen a man so determined to get better, but still so full of melancholy.  Physically he was recovering well.  I was afraid his mind was not.  

Something had happened besides him getting shot.  

There were times where he’d seem to remember a happy memory, and start to smile. He looked about to relate some story, when he’d just shut down and turn away.  It scared me at times, but more often it almost drove me to tears.


It was a week later, and Pa and Silas had not returned.  Joshua was continuing to improve.  After spending wash day cleaning the sheets, I insisted that he sleep in Silas’ room.  He was reluctant, but after I said it would ease the amount of work I had to do, he relented.  I had not insisted earlier, because he continued to try and help out around the place.  He had just regained enough strength that he could, if not easily, but determinedly, make it from the house to the barn and back, to help with morning and evening chores.

I had just whipped up something simple for supper, some ham and potatoes, when the sheriff arrived.  I had been eyeing one of the young chickens for supper all week.  I planned to make a large dinner when Pa and Silas returned, to appease them, if they found out that Joshua was sleeping up at the house.

We had been about ready to sit down and eat, when we heard the horses in the yard.  I assumed it was Pa and Silas, and turned from the stove, wiping my hands on my apron.  I saw it was Sheriff Newcomb when the setting sun glinted off his star.

Joshua had turned before me.  I had yet to see him move as fast as he did then.  His gun was in the bedroom, but he was back with it and his belt strapped to his leg before I could move towards the door.

I met his gaze.  He was not frightened, but rather annoyed.  I put my hand out to his chest to stop him.

“Sheriff Newcomb is a friend.”

“To your pa and brother?” he asked suspiciously.

“They don’t bother his town.  And tend to lose when they play poker with him.”

“Ah.”  He paused.  “Well, I don’t know him, so I guess we play this coolly.”  He looked towards me.  “Who am I supposed to be?”

“A drifter, looking for work.”  

“A harmless drifter wouldn’t show up gunshot.”  

I smiled. “Got kicked by the cow, while helping out with chores, so you’re still here healing up.”

A ghost of a smile crossed his face.  He nodded towards the door, so I went out to greet the sheriff.  He followed closely behind, but stayed in the shadows.

“Howdy, Sheriff.” I smiled friendly like.  Then I saw his eyes.  They looked haunted.

“Ellie,” he sighed and looked down, before meeting my eyes again as he came up onto the porch.  “It’s your pa and Silas.”

“They get arrested?”  My voice turned hard.

He shook his head and came up to grasp my hand.  “Ellie, they’re dead.”

I didn’t hear much after that.  Joshua came up behind me and got me to sit down in one of the chairs on the porch.  I heard a word here and there, but my head felt like it was surrounded by cotton.  I heard the words robbery and posse.  I didn’t listen any more.


After a while I realized the sheriff had left and Joshua was sitting with me on the porch.  He had found the whiskey and poured each of us a good measure.  He was trying to get me to take a drink, but somehow I couldn’t move my arms.  They seemed too heavy.

“Ellie, you’ll be better if you get a drink in you.”  Joshua was looking at me with dark, sad eyes.  “It will help you sleep.”

“I don’t think so.”  I shook my head.  Looking around I realized it was dark.

“Supper … “

“It’s waiting on the stove.”

I hadn’t even noticed when he must have left to take care of the food.

“I don’t feel like eating, but you … “

“I’m fine, Ellie.”  He reached across and took my hand.  “Let’s go inside.”

He raised me from the chair on the porch and maneuvered me into a seat by the table.  I just stared.

After a few minutes I heard him cracking eggs.  I turned towards the stove.

“You don’t need to do that … “

“I hope you don’t mind.  I’m cooking up something fresh.”

“Where did you learn to cook?”

“I’ve learned a lot of things, traveling the west.”  A ghost of a smile might have crossed his face.  “Decided I didn’t want to starve.”  A dark memory chased the remnants of the smile away into the night.  He continued to stir the eggs as they cooked, chopping up the ham to add it to the eggs and rewarm it.

I got up and poured the coffee as he dished up the eggs.  We ate in silence.

As we were cleaning up from dinner, with me washing, and Joshua drying, he said, “Sheriff Newcomb said the bodies would be here day after tomorrow.”  He paused.  “He said someone needed to identify them.  I could if you don’t want to.”

I met his eyes, dark pools of loss, reflecting my own.  I shook my head.  “I’d be real grateful if you came into town with me, but I have to do that for them.”

He nodded, then took me and set me down in my ma’s rocker, settling near me on one of the chairs.

“You’ve lost your ma already?” he asked gently.

I nodded.  “And a younger brother and sister.  Cholera.”  

“You have any other family left?  That you can go to?”

I shook my head.  “No.”

He laughed for the first time since I knew him, but it was a harsh, dry laugh.  “My family is all gone too.”  He looked out into the dark night.  

We sat in silence for a while.  I started rocking, and he rested his head against the back of the chair.

After a while, he led me to my bedroom, gave me a soft hug, and turned to go into what used to be Silas’ room.


The funeral was the next Thursday, after the law had released their bodies.  Reverend Paulson said some nice lies over them, and I tossed a handful of dirt on each.

Joshua came back to the farm with me.  I had wondered if he would ride away, as he was now healthy enough to sit his horse.

“I don’t want to be a bother at this time, Ellie,” he started as we were on the way home.  “I don’t really have anywhere to go.  I thought you might want some help until you decide what to do.”

I turned towards him with a sharp stare.  “I’m gonna keep working the place.  What else would I do?”

“Ellie, you’re a woman alone.  That’s not safe.”

I laughed my own dry laugh.  “Heck, Joshua, Pa and Silas weren’t home much.  I’ve been on my own for years now, since Ma and the babies died.  I’ve run quite a few men off the place, them that thought they could take advantage me bein’ alone.”

“You got enough money to keep it goin’?”  

“Yup.”  I nodded.  “I ain’t a stupid girl, no matter what it appears.”

He started to disagree, and I stopped him.

“I’d always save a bit from their hauls, either from what they’d give me for running the place, or from their pockets, when they were falling down drunk, and didn’t know how much they had spent at the saloon.”

A smile didn’t quite make it to his face, but his eyes showed some consideration.

“Never call yourself stupid, Ellie.  I wish I had done some of that when I was your age.”

Joshua helped me bring in the harvest.  We received a good profit on it and stored that away for seed in the spring and for the coming winter.  I asked him if he planned to stay through to spring.

“Like I’ve said, Ellie, I ain’t got nowhere else to go.  You want me to leave?”  There was some hurt in his eyes, but also determination to go, if I wanted him to.

I shook my head.  


It was one cold winter night, with the wind and snow howling around the outside of our snug cabin, that he finally told me what brought him to me.
   
   

This is just for fun so no need to poll


Tulsee Murdoch knocked on the front door of the little house that belonged to Heyes. After a few moments, when there was no answer, she tried the handle. Locked. Then she peered through the window next to the door. She couldn’t see anyone inside. Walking around the side of the house to the back, she looked to see if there was a window open. Of course there wouldn’t be. Heyes was particular about security. Too many crooks about, he said. She rattled the back door anyway. It was locked. As she knew it would be.


“Hmmm,” she frowned. What to do? She could sit and wait of course. The small area of decking out back was comfortably equipped with steamer chairs. But for how long? No she would go in search of him. There were a number of places in town to try and he was likely in one of them.


Tulsee tried the saloon first.


“Heyes in here?” she yelled, standing just inside the swing doors.


“Nope. Ain’t seen him today,” came the reply. “Have you tried the Town Hall?”


Tulsee tried the Town Hall. The sniffy woman, Heyes called his secretary, told her Mr Mayor was on vacation today.


“Hmmm,” Tulsee frowned, when she was back on the street. Just because he was on vacation from THAT job, didn’t necessarily mean he was on vacation from every job. She tried The Hardware Store next.


“Nope. Haven’t seen him today. Have you tried The Hat Shop? He sometimes pops in there.”


“Thanks.” Tulsee touched the brim of her hat and returned to the street. She glared at the lady’s hat shop on the other side. Not the sort of place she would normally want to be seen in. But the woman who ran the store for Heyes might know where he was.


Taking a deep breath, she crossed the street and went in. She had already prepared herself for the look of disgust on the womans’ face. Okay Tulsee knew she wasn’t the most feminine of girls. Her fringed buckskin jacket was well worn. And she was in dirty men’s pants that were a little too tight to be acceptable, if ever, on a woman. Even so, the woman deserved to be put in her place. But no Heyes would be cross if Tulsee upset her. He depended on her. What did he know about women’s hats? Unwilling to part with The Hat Shop after Mary’s death, he had taken on a manager who was as knowledgeable as Mary had been. Tulsee bit off the angry retort she felt coming and politely asked after Heyes’ whereabouts. As expected the answer was no; he wasn’t around and he hadn’t been in.


As Tulsee gratefully retreated, she saw Susan, Heyes’ daughter coming out of The Mercantile. She had a small boy in tow. Heyes had said he had a grandson. This must be him. Tulsee headed her off. “Susan!”


Susan turned, saw who it was and scowled. This young woman … ha! … young girl was causing a lot of trouble. For some reason, unfathomable to any respectable person, her father was infatuated with her and making a fool of himself in front of the whole town.


“Can I help you?” Susan said, drawing herself up.


“I’m looking for your Pappy,” Tulsee said. She glanced down at the boy who was staring up at her with big eyes. Frowning at the unsettling gaze of the small boy, she looked back at Susan. “Do you know where he is?” 


“He’s a grown man.” Apparently, she added to herself. “I’m not his keeper,” Susan said, haughtily. “Have you tried the house?”


“Would I be looking for him if he was there?” Tulsee snapped, icily.


Susan smiled faintly. “No I suppose not. Well I don’t know where he is but he’ll turn up. He usually does.”


“I could wait at his house. Do you have a key?”


“No but you could try breaking in,” Susan suggested, with a smirk. She meant it tongue in cheek of course. “If you ask in The Hardware Store. I’m sure Dan’ll give you something to use. Tell him I said so.” With that, she dragged the small boy away.


Tulsee watched her go with a scowl. There was no love lost between herself and Susan. They had already had several heated debates over her relationship with Heyes. As if it was any of Susan’s business whose company Heyes kept.


“Mama, is she a girl?” Tulsee heard the boy say.


“Yes Alfie, I’m afraid she is,” Susan sighed.


“But she’s wearing pants! Girls don’t wear pants.”


Tulsee heard no more. She considered what Susan had said. Perhaps breaking in wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Heyes would be surprised when he finally came home. He’d be cross of course at first but later … well … making up was SO much fun.


With a smile, Tulsee went into The Hardware Store. The man she had seen earlier was still there behind the counter. She knew this was Dan.


“He’s still not here,” he said.


“I’ve just seen Susan. She says you can give me something I can use to break into Heyes’ house.”


Dan looked horrified. “I can’t do that! He’s my boss!” He paused. “I’ll can let Susan have something. She knows how.”


Tulsee wasn’t thrilled at the thought of confronting Susan again but if that was the only way of getting inside Heyes’ house and surprising him, then so be it. Outside she frowned in the direction Susan had been heading. Neither she nor the boy were insight. Tulsee went in that direction anyway, glancing in each store as she went until she spotted them in the butcher.


Susan turned and frowned as the little bell tinkled Tulsee’s entrance.


“What do you want now?” Susan asked, irritably, finding this girl’s continual presence tiresome.


“Dan says you can do it,” Tulsee said, thumbs hooked into her belt and looking at Susan hard.


“I’m kinda busy here,” Susan snapped.


“Please.”


Susan gave a deep sigh and thrust her basket at Tulsee to hold. “Mind him,” she ordered, flicking her head in Alfie’s direction. The boy was staring at Tulsee again.


Susan marched up the street and into The Hardware Store. Dan grinned ruefully as she came in.


“So, I have to help my father’s mistress break into his house do I?” Susan demanded hand on hip.


Dan held his hands up in surrender. “I’m not getting involved,” he laughed.


“Coward!” Susan spat then spluttered. “Come on, come on. You know what I need.” She gestured furiously with her hand.


“Yes ma’am.”


Dan fetched a slender knife and the set of lock picks, kept in the Store for this eventuality.

Susan marched back to the butchers to find Tulsee and Alfie were staring at each other.


“Why’s he staring at me like that?” Tulsee asked.


“I don’t know.” Susan turned to her son. “Why are you staring at her like that?”


“She’s wearing pants. Girls don’t wear pants,” said Alfie.


Susan shuddered and grabbed his arm. “Come along. We’re going somewhere before we finish our shopping.” Then to the storekeeper. “I’ll be back Mr Finlayson. My order is on the counter there.”


“Right-o, Ms Brandon.”


The three of them went to Heyes’ house. With a lot of glaring and harrumphing on Susan’s part, she started to pick the lock.


“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Tulsee asked, after several unsuccessful minutes.


Susan had resorted to her knees, hoping that position would be more productive. Judging by the cursing she was doing she wasn’t having much luck there either.


“Yes,” Susan snapped. “Pappy taught me how to do this and he should know. He WAS Hannibal Heyes.”


Susan turned back to the lock and fiddled some more.


“Mama, what are you doing?”


Susan took a deep breath at the interruption but she marshalled a smile for her young son.

“I’m picking the lock so I can let Tulsee in to Grumpy’s house,” she explained, patiently. “I won’t be long Alfie. Just let me do this and then we can go buy you some of those acid drops you like so much. Alright?”


Alfie beamed. He liked acid drops. He stood as patiently as a six-year-old boy can.


“Don’t you need a key?” Alfie asked, after what to him seemed ages but in reality was only a few moments.


“I haven’t GOT a key,” Susan said between gritted teeth.


Alfie reached into his shirt. Around his neck on a string was a key.


“I have,” he announced, holding it up.


Susan looked up and frowned.


“What key is that?” she demanded, perturbed that her son had a key she knew nothing about.


“It’s my key to Grumpy’s house.”


Susan huffed. “Why have you got a key to Grumpy’s house?” she squeaked high-pitched.
Then noticing Tulsee smirking at her, cleared her throat. “Dust.”


“Grumpy gave it to me.”


Susan took a deep breath trying to be calm. “Why. Did. He. Give. You. A. Key?”


Tulsee grinned and folded her arms as she watched the tableau unfolding before her.


“’Cos you forget to pick me up from school sometimes an’ he’s had to leave important meetings to come get me. He gave me the key so I could come here and be safe and he’d deal with you later,” Alfie explained smugly. “It’s our secret.”


Susan’s face was like thunder. She held out her hand.


Alfie hesitated. Then he took off the key and dropped it into the waiting hand. Susan grunted as the key turned in the lock and the door opened. Not only was she suffering the indignity of letting her father’s mistress into his house, she had now found out that her father and son had been conspiring against her. She scrambled to feet, handing the key back to Alfie. She would be adding this to the list of things she intended to have out with her father the next time she saw him. That list was growing by the second.


“There.”


“Thank you.” Tulsee stepped inside.


Susan nodded. “Tell Pappy to give you a key. I can’t be doing this every time he goes missing. Come along, Alfie.” She swept away.


Alfie skipped up the path after her, delighted that acid drops were getting closer.


“Mama, did you wear pants when you were younger?” he asked innocently as he reached the gate.


Susan turned on him. “No!”


“Why not?”


“’Cos Grumpy would never let me!” she said, scowling at a grinning Tulsee, who was closing the door.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Heyes dropped the fishing paraphernalia he carried and searched his pockets for this key. Billy was home from university for vacation and the only way Heyes would get to see him was if he went to Amnesty, where Susan had kept Billy’s old room. Billy refused to come here because of the possibility of running into THAT girl. So Heyes had suggested they went fishing in the hope that a neutral place would help their increasingly difficult relationship. Er … no. HE had caught two fish but Billy hadn’t caught anything. His younger son had returned to Amnesty more disgruntled than when Heyes had arrived.


A sixth sense told Heyes there was something wrong as he went to put the key in the lock. He knew the door was unlocked. That couldn’t be. He knew he locked the door when he went out. He distinctly remembered. He frowned. This was worrying. Flakes of paint on the ground under the lock told him someone had definitely had a go at it. No one had a key to this house except him. There WAS only one key. All the time he and Mary had lived here when they were first married. All the time it was rented out after they had moved to Amnesty. He kept meaning to have another key cut but he had never gotten around to it. He owned a small chain of hardware stores. It wasn’t as though it would COST him anything. He had the machinery and know-how to do it himself. He had entirely forgotten the secret key he had made for Alfie.


Slowly he turned the handle. He growled to himself. The door was definitely unlocked. He quickly glanced around. All looked normal but he drew his gun just in case. He rarely wore it these days but he had been out of town, into the countryside and it was just a precaution. He hoped he wouldn’t have to use it should he have to confront someone inside.


He pushed the door open carefully and stepped in. The door of course was well oiled and made no sound as it opened. Quickly he scanned the small house. Doors to the three bedrooms on the right were all open. So was the kitchen door straight ahead. Unlikely anyone could be hiding in any of those places. That left the closed door of the bathroom, to the right of the kitchen and the alcove he used as his study to the left. Years of stealth came in handy as he tiptoed down the large room and poked his head cautiously into the alcove. No one there. Phew!


As he turned back to investigate the bathroom he caught sight of someone lying stretched out on his couch, asleep. Despite himself, he smirked. Troublesome woman! Then he frowned. How on earth did she get in?


He leaned on the back of the couch and looked down at her. She must have helped herself to his bath, as her haystack of hair was freshly washed and more curly than usual. She was sound asleep and looking peaceful. He cleared his throat loudly. All she did was smack her lips and turned her head over one shoulder.


Part of him was annoyed to see her, in his house, so comfortable. And another part of him was thrilled to see her. This young woman fascinated him and he couldn’t explain why. She was nothing like Mary or any woman that he had enjoyed associating with before his marriage. He had always been attracted to more sophisticated, intelligent woman. Not that Tulsee was unintelligent. She was just not an intellect. Their growing friendship was a source of gossip in the town, obviously puzzling the townsfolk as much as him. He was still the Mayor after all. Perhaps he should be more circumspect with his friendships with the opposite sex? This was something Susan never failed to mention each time she saw him. But that fact would go away in a few month’s time, when Porterville would elect a new mayor. Then he’d be able to go about his business without so much scrutiny. As for the gossip, he wasn’t particularly happy about it but he was unable and unwilling to do anything about it. Resisting as long as he could, it was inevitable when his relationship with Tulsee became delightfully and deliciously intimate.


Which now confused him even more. She was far too young for him, younger than two of his children. They had nothing in common and she was everything he’d always hated in a woman. Always in pants and that smelly buckskin jacket and the most ridiculous of hats. She usually wore her curly and unruly hair tied back with a leather cord that was never up to the job. Now it was unbound and spread out around her head, in a way he found most appealing.


That aside, why did she fascinate him so much? He shook his head, completely at a loss. She did make him laugh though. Telling the most outrageous stories, mostly unbelievable. Not just smile and chuckle but laugh out loud, until tears came and he was helpless. The town had noticed that their normally serious but likeable Mayor became a different person when Tulsee was near. She held him spellbound. After Mary was killed there had been precious little for him to laugh about. He had buried himself in his work, moved out of Amnesty and now lived alone. He hadn’t written a word in over a year and he barely paid attention to his hardware business. He was lucky he had good managers in all three stores and could leave them to manage without his supervision.


He had met her when he stood in for Dan one day, when a delivery was due at the Porterville store. She was the delivery driver. Managing a large and heavy wagon and a team of four powerful horses was no job for a woman. Especially not for the slip of a girl that she was. Yet drive them she did, over mountain and desert, in all weathers. She loved it.


In the saloon, he had tested his rusty poker skills against her. While Mary was alive, he had operated a self-imposed embargo on any card game for money. He knew he could easily become addicted to gambling and he wasn’t willing to put his hard won family and livelihood at risk. Suddenly finding himself a widower, he played for the company rather than the money. He only take a small amount with him when he went to play poker, knowing how easy it could be to fall into his pre-amnesty ways. He found Tulsee a challenging and lively opponent. She played reasonably well, could bluff convincingly and took her risks carefully. She didn’t lose too many hands. Unless he was playing of course, he grinned ruefully.


Heyes cleared his throat again more loudly. This time the violet eyes flicked open.


“Heyes!” A big beam of delight spread over Tulsee’s face and she sat up, her face close to his as he leaned over the back of the sofa.


“How did you get in?” he asked, ominously low. Tulsee didn’t know him well enough yet to know that was a warning.


“Susan let me in,” Tulsee said, moving closer. She wanted a kiss. He knew she did. He wanted to kiss her. However, she wasn’t going to get a kiss. At least, not just yet.


“Susan doesn’t have a key,” he told her and moved back to avoid temptation. He wasn’t sure how long he could play annoyed with the smell of a freshly washed Tulsee so close to him.


“I know that’s why she tried to pick the lock,” Tulsee said, smugly. She shook her head. “But she couldn’t do it. Then your grandson gave her his key.”


Heyes dropped his head. “Ah!” He’d forgotten about that and he sighed. Not the boy’s fault.
He winced. No doubt, that would be high on the agenda when he and Susan next met.


“What’s that smell?” Tulsee wrinkled her nose in disgust.


“I’ve been fishing,” he growled, going back to the door to get his gear.


Tulsee swung her legs over the side of the couch.


“That’s why I couldn’t find you then.”


“Yep,” Heyes agreed. He stacked his fishing equipment inside the door and closed it. With a sigh, he spun his hat to the top of the hat stand where it stayed. He gave a nod of satisfaction.


“Bet you’re surprised to see me,” Tulsee beamed.


“Yep. Sure am. No sure I like you surprising me INSIDE my house Tulsee.”


“Isn’t a nice surprise?” she asked, ignoring his rebuke.


Heyes stood hands on hips considering. His tongue explored his mouth. “Haven’t decided yet,” he said, ominously.


Tulsee lost her smile. He was annoyed. She’d better tread carefully.


“Why does Alfie call you Grumpy?” she asked, slowly, hoping the change of subject would distract him.  She had been wondering about that since earlier.


“Ha!” Heyes sighed and rolled his eyes at the ceiling. He sighed. “When Susan brought him home from Europe he only spoke Italian. She jokingly told him to call me Grumpy instead of Grampy.” He sighed again. “The boy didn’t know any better and after while I gave up trying to correct him. The name stuck.”


“Are you grumpy?”


Heyes’ face twitched a small smile. “Yes. Very.” He started for the bathroom door. “I’m going for a bath. Wash some of this fish smell off you find so objectionable.”


“Do you need any help?”


“Nope.”


He paused with his hand on the door handle and looked back at her. That was a mistake. In clean clothes and freshly washed he knew what he saw in her. She was gorgeous and willing, his impossibly troublesome woman. He wasn’t about to admit any feelings for her other than desire but he was beginning to doubt that was ALL it was. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. But that was something for another day. For now, he needed to gather more evidence, do more research. He hesitated and then the beckoning of his head was imperceptible.


Tulsee beamed.

Locked
By Nell McKeon
 
Hannibal Heyes was bored, he was annoyed but most of all he was worried, not that he could improve his situation at the moment. He paced to the back of the cell to stare out the tiny barred window, nope, still couldn’t see the doctor’s office. Heyes paced the short distance to the front of the cell and idly stopped to watch the sheriff at his desk fiddling with an intricately carved and assembled small wooden puzzle box.

“Sheriff, you got any word on how my friend is doing?”

“Locked,” muttered the sheriff to himself as he deposited several wooden pieces and the mostly intact puzzle box in the carboard box sitting in the middle of his desk and slammed the lid on. Sheriff Marty Rhitt looked up and answered with audible strained patience, “Like, I’ve told you before, Heyes, Kid Curry is still running a high fever, which Doc Colton says is to be expected, after all, it’s only been two days since he removed the bullet from the Kid’s left leg.”

“It’s Smith, and my friends name is Jones, Thaddeus Jones. Can I see him?”

“You’ll see him when my deputies guarding your partner at the doc’s house let me know that the Kid’s been cleared to be moved to the jail. Now as to who you are, that will be settled when the marshalls from Wyoming arrive to identify you two and transport you back for trial.”

“Now sheriff, if Thaddeus was really Kid Curry don’t you think that he wouldn’t be the only one to wind up with a bullet in him. I’ve always heard Kid Curry is an eagle-eyed shootist and if I was Hannibal Heyes I sure wouldn’t have lead us into that dead-end box canyon. Heyes is supposed to be smart, a genius planner and escapist. We were just a couple of drifters looking for work, who thought you were a gang of robbers when you started chasing and shooting at us.” Heyes tried his innocent act one more time.

Marty Rhitt rose from his desk, ambled over to the cell and leaned against the bars. He looked Heyes in the eyes. “That’s the thing. I couldn’t help but notice that your partner was the only one who was taking aim, you seemed to be shooting over our heads. Hats got shot off, guns flew from hands, and dust kicked up right in front of our faces and I don’t believe they were unintentional misses. Not many men being shot at, outlaw or not, are capable of such accuracy. Kid Curry is. Curry and Heyes are known for not being killers, neither is any posse member I’m in charge of but I did need to get him to stop shooting and for you to surrender peacefully before someone did get killed with all that lead flying around.”

Heyes didn’t have a return argument so he decided a change in subject was in order. “Say sheriff, what was that you’ve been fiddlin’ with on and off for two days now?” He watched as the sheriff’s ears turned red as the man straightened up and turned abruptly away.

“Never you mind, it’s nothin’ you need to concern yourself with.”

“Come on sheriff, you can tell me. There’s no else here, who am I gonna tell? Maybe I can help?” Heyes really needed a distraction from the constant worry about his partner and the less than fruitful escape planning.

Marty Rhitt appeared to be a year or two older than Heyes and was proving to be a cautious, intelligent sheriff, conscientiously doing his duty. He also plainly was preoccupied with the complicated puzzle box.  The sheriff knocked the lid off the carboard box on his desk, peered inside with frustration, and glanced back toward the cells with indecision clearly written across his face.

“If you’re so convinced I’m Hannibal Heyes and you know Heyes is known for being a problem solver, why don’t you let me work on your problem. If I help you out, maybe, you can let me see my partner for myself, or I’m sure we can agree on something.”

“I don’t think I should be getting’ any help from an outlaw.”

“Maybe I’m an outlaw, maybe not. What do you have to lose?’

Sheriff Rhitt relented, his whole life, well at least his happiness depended upon opening that box without destroying it. He lifted the carboard box from his desk, fished the keys from his pocket, and approached Heyes’ cell.

“Back up against the wall Heyes or Smith, whatever your name is.”

Heyes backed up and watched the sheriff with interest.

Marty Rhitt, drew his gun, juggled the box in one hand while he opened the cell door with the other, and proceeded to carefully place the box on the cot. He then backed out of the cell and relocked the door. He indicated his permission for Heyes to look with a nod of his head.

The intrigued prisoner peaked into the box then looked up. Heyes was surprised to see a fleeting glimpse of real anguish in the dark brown eyes looking back at him.

“Your problem’s in the box? You’re that upset about not being able to take apart a puzzle box?” Heyes reached in to pull out the largely intact intricate puzzle box. He held it carefully in two hands towards the sheriff.

“Yes, in a manner of speaking.” Sheriff Martin Rhitt sighed heavily as he holstered his gun. He took a deep breath and thought that if his prisoner was Hannibal Heyes, and he was convinced of that fact, then he wanted the famous outlaw’s help, which might prove invaluable, more than he didn’t want to be beholden to the man.

Heyes lifted one dark eyebrow, trying to illicit further information from the reticent lawman.

“My problem is I fell in love with a wonderful woman, Herta Bauer. Herta’s family is originally from Austria, now they live in Saint Louis where I’m from before I took this job. Her father is a clockmaker, and a master wood craftsman. He doesn’t think much of my career choice because he thinks that I could get killed by some dirty outlaw in the Wild West and leave his daughter a widow before her time.” Sheriff Rhitt glared meaningfully at the outlaw behind the bars of his jail cell.

“Not that I’m admitting I’m an outlaw but I’d wager that the outlaw, especially one wanted dead or alive, is more likely to be killed than a competent Sheriff, which you seem to be.” Heyes countered.

Another sign escaped before the Sheriff continued, “Maybe? Who calculates the odds on these things? We do what we have to do. Anyway, he was happy I moved here. He was wrong to think I’d forget Herta, though. Once I moved here and settled in. I proposed. Herta’s answer is in a box, which I can’t open. I have to send something back that’s in the box and I don’t know what that is either because I can’t open the damn box! Her father constructed and carved the thing and he probably made it difficult on purpose.”

Heyes cynical heart started to soften as in spite of himself he found himself sympathetic to the genuine heart sickness that was evident in Marty Rhitt’s voice. “So, do we have a deal, Sheriff? I’ll work on opening the box, you let me see my partner when I get it open, then I’ll teach you how I did it so you can honestly say you opened the box.”

“It’s a deal, Heyes”

“Smith.”

“Whatever you say, until the marshals arrive.”


The following day rays of sunshine slanted through the tiny window illuminating the dust motes dancing in the breeze drummed up by a determinedly pacing frustrated outlaw. Not only was Heyes still in the dark regarding Kid’s true condition but the puzzle box was proving to be truly a puzzle.
Sheriff Rhitt observed the actions of his unwilling guest on and off all day, not knowing whether to be amused by Heyes’ inability to take apart and access the interior of the box despite hours of single minded attention to the task or disappointed that his objective was no closer to being met.

“Hey Sheriff, how’s my partner doing? When can I see him?” Heyes called out.

“You have the puzzle apart yet? I don’t see a reply from Herta in your hand.” Rhitt retorted from behind his desk. He held up one hand to stop the response he saw coming in Heyes’ dark eyes. “But, I’ll tell you what, I’ll stop at the doc’s on my late rounds and give you an update if the deputy who’s stationed there doesn’t get here first to report after his night relief arrives.”

Heyes halted and sat on the bunk. He picked up the wooden contraption, his sensitive fingers ghosting the surface for subtle joins of wood, and applying pressure at a point here or there and then a push or a pull that yielded…nothing.

A jangle of a door opening had both men turning towards the front door. Three men awkwardly entered the jailhouse semi-sideways through the door. Kid Curry arrived noticeably limping with his hands handcuffed in front of him and supported on each side by a deputy. Heyes’ eyes traveled in relief from Kid’s pale, tired, and slightly flushed face to the left thigh, wrapped in a large bulky bandage visible through the split seam of Kid’s pants. The deputies deposited Kid on the cot in the small cell adjoining Heyes. Kid slowly lowered himself into a recumbent position while the deputies gave their report to the sheriff.

Curry turned his head towards the other occupied cell and found his partner crouched on the other side of the bars in order to look Curry in the eye. Kid sought to reassure the worried one, “I’m fine. The fever broke in the early morning and now the leg is just sore and weak. How’re you doing? You look like hell, partner. You get any sleep? Are you eating?”

Heyes just shook his shaggy head at Kids questions as they didn’t merit an answer. They both glanced at the lawmen to gauge their level of attentiveness and mutually agreed that a short private conversation could be risked.

“Heyes, we might have a problem. The doctor said I can be moved soon, as long as I don’t hafta ride a horse. Horse riding’s out for at least 6 weeks, according to Doc Colton. Have you worked out a plan to get us out of here yet?”

“That could be a problem for us since it will only give a few days at the most before the marshals from Wyoming arrive and they’ll know we are who the Sheriff thinks we are. The sheriff was gonna wire them when you were moved to the jail. He’s a pretty thorough sheriff, not fat and lazy. They found all my lock picks and I’m not given anything that can be used to pick a lock. Riding a horse won’t be an issue, you’ll have to deal with if we can’t get out of this cell.”

“You’ll think of somethin’, you always do.” Curry yawned and his eyes started to close.

Heyes rose and crossed back over to his cot to resume his mental and physical dexterity challenge involving the intricate pieces of wood making up the puzzle. He briefly wondered why bother. He discarded the idea to strike a change in the terms of the bargain for solving dismantling the box as unworkable. He didn’t think the sheriff would consider letting them go. A snort of self-mocking escaped the dark-haired outlaw as he realized the problem of the puzzle box had become more than a distraction but a downright challenge to his genius abilities.


Early the next morning Sheriff Rhitt was offering Heyes a cup of steaming coffee through the bars. “Deputy Predmore will be bringing your breakfast shortly.” He peered into the carboard box sitting on the floor along the bars and smiled. “Hey, I see you’ve made some progress with my box. There are two more pieces you got apart.”

Heyes accepted the coffee, blew across the top before taking a small sip. “Thanks, the coffee is a little weak for me but it’s just the way my friend likes it. That is if he finally wakes up. The smell of food ought to do it. And by the way, those two pieces took me most of the night. I’m beginning to think you’re right about your potential father-in-law not being happy about the situation.”

The sheriff’s face fell into a look of chagrin.

“Don’t worry Sheriff, I’ll get it opened. Impossible situations are my specialty.”

Sheriff Rhitt’s look of chagrin deepened. He pointedly stared at the lock on the cell door and slowly and firmly stated, “As long as you’re focused on the impossible situation in a cardboard box and no others, we’re good.”

Heyes chuckled and smiled with false innocence as he thought to himself I’m working on both and when I have a workable plan I’ll be good. Now if the Kid recovers quickly we’ll both be good.
Marty Rhitt nodded over to the still sleeping Curry in the next cell. “Doc Colton will be coming over to check up on your partner sometime in the afternoon.”

Breakfast came and went with Heyes for once finishing both his and most of Curry’s eggs, bacon, and biscuits. Time passed slowly and uneventfully, the lawmen were in and out all morning on their daily duties. Heyes had dragged his cot to the other side of the cell to be closer to the Kid as he continued to work on the puzzle box, and Curry slept.

“Kid? Kid, wake up. I’ve got an idea,” hissed Heyes when he judged that the partners would have a reasonable amount of time to talk privately.

Kid rolled over and cracked open one bleary blue eye to stare through the bars. “I’m awake. Glad to hear you have a plan. What do you need me to do?”

“Listen, when the doctor comes to check your wound he’ll probably have his doctor bag with him, right?”

“I guess so.”

“Right. I know you’re not feeling your usual self but I bet your hands are still fast and you haven’t lost your pickpocketing skills. When the doc opens the bag he’ll most likely put it on the cot next to your leg or on the floor, the important thing is it will be within your arms reach. What we need you to do is to swipe something out of the bag I can use to pick the lock, it just has to been long and thin. You think you can manage that without getting caught.” Heyes nodded his head as he talked, liking the odds that Kid would be able to snag something useful.

“If that will help get us out of here and avoid a trip to Wyoming, you can bet I’ll give it my best shot.”

Several hours later, during which Kid struggled to shake himself out of the half stupor he’d been in and out of since he’d been shot. Doctor Colton entered the jail to check up on his patient. Deputy Predmore brought a stool for the doctor and let the doctor in Curry’s cell, locking the door behind him.

“Well Mr. Jones, let’s see how you’ve been doing? Any increased pain?”

“It’s Kid Curry, Doc, We’re sure. You’ll see when the marshals get here in a day or two,” called Marty Rhitt from across the office.

The doctor sat on the stool alongside the Kid’s thigh and placed his bag on the cot. He opened the bag and removed bandage shears and new bandages then proceeded to go about the process of examining the wound’s healing progress and changing the bandage.

Heyes watched the activity in the adjoining cell from the cot on his side of the bars with avid interest.

Curry jerked his leg in response to a prod of the doctor’s fingers, knocking over the doctor’s bag, spilling the contents onto the cot and floor.

“Look what you did Thaddeus. You should be more careful,” admonished Heyes

“Sorry about that Doc. I couldn’t help it; the leg was sore that spot you prodded sent a shooting pain though the leg. Here, let me help you gather them up.” Curry sounded contrite as he gathered the instruments spread around on the bed while the doctor picked his tools and supplies of the trade off the floor, both men depositing their finds in the black bag placed back on the cot.

Sheriff Rhitt inquired, “You get everything back, Doc?” as he watched the commotion.

The doctor twisted around to face the lawman. “Yes, I did thank you.” He turned back to find Mr. Jones closing the bag.

“Don’t want to spill everything out again. How about you sitting here with me and put the bag on the stool,” suggested Curry. “How’s the wound looking? I’m still pretty worn out and sleeping a lot. How much can I do with the leg? Not that there is a lot to do in jail.” He continued as he shifted closer to the bars between the two cells.


“Heyes, are you still trying to figure out that box thing. How can you even concentrate with that deputy snoring up a storm over there? Can you see, he’s got the light pretty dim?”

Heyes flicked his eyes up to meet Kid’s through the bars then returned to what he was doing.” I can see just fine.”

“Will that probe thing of the doc’s work, do you think?”

“Yep, quiet for a minute, I think I almost figured out this piece.”

Kid ignored him. “So, we’re leaving tonight?”

“No, not tonight.”

“Why not tonight? I think we should go tonight.”

“You can’t ride. If we use our horses we’ll have to ride hard and fast. The deputy is only gone about an hour or two when he does his night rounds. I think the timing depends upon if a certain dove is in the saloon or not. I haven’t heard any trains coming by in the middle of the night yet and I don’t think any stages are leaving. Now go back to sleep and get some rest.”

“I’ve been resting for days now. I can ride. It won’t be the best thing for my leg, but I’ll keep up with you. I think we should go tonight. I don’t want to take a chance of the marshals showing up early.”

“Shush will you. I’ve almost getting how this works.”

“Heyes, is opening that box keepin’ us here? We leave tonight. Give me that thing!” snapped Curry with quite annoyance. He stuck his hand through the bars and snatched the puzzle box out of Heyes’ hands.

“Kid, I kinda feel sorry for the sheriff. His girl’s answer to his proposal in in the middle of that thing. He was struggling even more than me to get it apart without ruining the craftsmanship. It was made by Herta’s father who doesn’t want his daughter to marry a sheriff.”

“I wouldn’t want my daughter to marry a sheriff either.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re an outlaw. Marty Rhitt is pretty decent, for a sheriff, kinda like Lom, I bet. Now give me back the box.”

Kid sat up in bed and studied the object in his hand. “No let me try for a little while. Hand over the pieces you have apart already. Then try to rest for a little while. We leave tonight.”

“Kid…”

“Hand them over Heyes, If I get it apart without breaking it can we leave tonight?”

“Have I ever told you that your stubbornness is annoying.”

“Many times, but my stubbornness is going to keep me on my horse and movin’ fast when we leave later.”

Heyes signed, his partner in this mood couldn’t be reasoned with. He’d let Kid struggle with the box until his patience ran out and his frustration made him give the puzzle box back to Heyes. They could stay one more day. Meanwhile he would take his partner’s suggestion and get some rest. Heyes handed over the pieces from the carboard box then got as comfortable as one can get on a jail cell cot for some shut eye.

Two hours later Heyes was drifting back to awareness when he detected a satisfied quiet humming coming from his partner’s cell. He sat up, rubbed his eyes and stared in shock at Curry. Heyes’ jaw dropped open. Kid Curry was sitting on his cot, a small pink piece of paper unfolded on his lap, the fully assembled puzzle box sitting on the cot and a small red enameled heart-shaped box being lightly tossed from hand to hand.

Kid smiled, he held up the unfolded pink piece of paper and read aloud, “Yes. I will marry you. I love you with all my heart. Aah, I guess the father will have to get used to having a sheriff for a son-in-law whether he likes it or not.”

“You opened it? You opened it in that short a time.” accused Heyes is disbelief.

“Yep. Can we leave tonight now?”

“Prove it, show me,” demanded Heyes.

Curry did just that, he slowly demonstrated the tricks and intricacies of the puzzle’s construction by disassembling and reassembling the object to Heyes reluctant satisfaction. If Curry didn’t know better he would say his partner was sulking and he didn’t know if he should be insulted.

“Heyes, don’t take your problem with the puzzle box to heart. You’re still a genius planner and problem solver. You get past any lock that you put your mind to. The thing is that this wasn’t a lock. It was easier for me ‘cause I’m used to taking apart and putting back mechanical things with small parts that have to work a certain way, like my gun. I have to be, my life depends upon it. It’s second nature, like you with a new safe.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, I do. And you know what else I think. I think we can leave tonight.”

Heyes looked once more at the puzzle box and the lock on the cell door. The deputy snored on. The dimple appeared as the grin spread across Heyes’ face as he pulled out the doctor’s thin metal probe that Kid had placed under Heyes mattress earlier in the day and put it into his pocket. “You’re sure you can ride, the doc said…”

“I know what the doc said and we both know that doctors are cautious. Caution outlaws or ex-outlaws like you and me can’t afford. Yeah, I can stay on my horse. You just get us to the livery.”

“All right Kid, we’ll go tonight as soon as the deputy leaves on his rounds. But before we go we have to leave the heart box with the note inside, the puzzle box and a note explaining how take apart and put together the box on the sheriff’s desk. Who knows, maybe he’ll be so grateful, nah he won’t, but he might be intrigued enough that it will slow him down on forming a posse.”

“Now, that’s a plan. I told you you’d think of somethin’. You always do. You haven't failed yet.”


Both partners settled down to rest up until the deputy roused to do his rounds. After all, they’d be riding hell bent for leather in an hour or so.