Chapter six In Between

CHAPTER SIX

IN BETWEEN  Part one

Heyes was bored. Bored, bored, bored, BORED. There was only so much reading a person could do and he had pretty much exhausted all the newspapers the town had to offer anyways. Just to show how bored he was, he had even gotten tied of reading the news articles about himself. He was pacing a trench in the cell floor. Just because he wasn't granted bail, surely that didn't mean that he was NEVER GOING TO GET OUT OF HERE! He'd had it up to here with nothing to do!

Every time a new prisoner was brought into the cell block Heyes' hopes would rise just a bit in anticipation that they may offer the opportunity of some stimulating conversation. But, alas, he was generally met with; 'Hey! You're Hannibal Heyes ain't ya! I heard you was brung in here! Whoohoo! I'm in the same cell block as Hannibal Heyes!' Oh brother. Heyes was beginning to feel that it was an insult to be considered the cream of the crop when this was the best the crop had to offer.

One of the drawbacks of allowing an intelligent and devious mind to reach that level of boredom is that it usually finds a way to liven things up a bit. Heyes' mind was no exception, and when he had finally arrived at the point where he was ready to start banging his head against the bars, he found a way to put it to better use. He started taunting his jailers. A dangerous game indeed, but since there was nothing better to do....

Even though the main jailhouse in Cheyenne was considered to be the most secure in the Territory, every jail can only live up to the standards of the people who guard it. Considering the reputation of the Cheyenne jail, Heyes would have thought that it would be manned by experienced guards who knew all the tricks and wouldn’t put up with any nonsense from the inmates.

He must have been feeling somewhat insecure after his dealings with Morrison because he entered that establishment with a heavy heart and a dulled mind.  However, once secured within his cell, Heyes soon came to realize that Wyoming tended to use this jailhouse as a training ground for its new recruits and the sparkle came back into his eye.

Heyes was finding it surprisingly easy to pull off the simplest slight of hand maneuvers that Silky had been so kind as to teach him.  Snatching the ring of keys off the belt of a young unsuspecting guard as he passed by the outlaw’s cell turned out to be the easiest of diversions. He would then take great pleasure in giving a little whistle and dangling the keys outside the bars right in full view of the proper owner and the reaction of the inattentive guard would be well worth the risk of the deed.

“Oh, Deputy...”

“What do you want Heyes? OH GEESH! How did you get those?!” and the young man would come running back and grab the ring from the outlaw’s hand. “Don't do that! You know how much trouble I'd get into if the Sheriff found out about that?!”

“Sorry Deputy, but you dropped them. Just trying to help you out,” and he'd flash his impish smile, and he'd be believed—at first.  

But then it started happening too often and it didn’t take long for the numerous deputies to get wise to Heyes' talented fingers and they started keeping better track of their key rings. Heyes saw it as doing a service; he was helping to educate these young fellas so they'd be better at their jobs. All they would need is to come up against a crafty old outlaw who was serious about breaking out and then they'd really be in trouble. Yup, Heyes told himself, if he wasn't going to escape himself then he may as well be doing something worthwhile.

With his next lesson, he'd found himself a piece of strong wire that had been used to repair the rope mattress supports on his cot and had fashioned it into a handy little lock pick. He unlocked his cell door and then closed it just enough for it to appear to be secure and then waited for one of the younger less experienced deputies to walk by. Once the unsuspecting victim had passed his cell, Heyes would quietly exit it and then coming up behind the young man, would wait until he turned around and then scare the living bejesus out of him!

“Dagnabbit Heyes! How did you get out of your cell?!”

“Well you left the door unlocked Deputy.”

“I did not! I didn't, did I? Are you sure I did?”

“Well how else would I have gotten out?”

At which point the deputy would hustle Heyes back into his cell accompanied by the hoots and corkles of the other prisoners who found this whole scenario quite entertaining.

Heyes wasn’t being believed this time though.  His reputation was turning the tables on him, since all of the deputies—as young and inexperienced as some of them were, had heard of Heyes’ considerable talents when it came to opening a locked door.  Every time he’d pull one of these stunts he’d find himself handcuffed to the bars while a thorough search was made of his person, his meager belongings and the other contents of the cell.  Nothing was ever found as Heyes would always return the bit of wire to the cot in such a way that it would appear never to have been removed.  It was becoming quite a mystery, and soon even the old hands were beginning to think that maybe the greenhorns just weren’t being diligent enough in their duties.  They’d all taken to giving Heyes’ cell door an extra hard slam every time they closed it, just to be sure.

All of this nonsense had been entertaining for a while, but then one night, Heyes was feeling particularly frustrated and ended up turning his little game into something a tad bit more serious. It was well past midnight and as usual, he couldn't sleep. It never got completely dark in the cell block as the lamps were never put out, just turned down and that in itself made if hard for him to shut his mind down. He found himself worrying about his future, worrying about his partner, worrying about Lom, worrying about how he was going to get through the next bloody boring day! Pace, pace, pace.

How come all the other men in this cell block could sleep and he couldn't? Listening to their snores and nighttime mumblings just frustrated him even more. This was madness. What was he thinking, allowing himself to be contained like this? He had to get out of here. The Governor wasn't going to be coming to his rescue, he'd been ignoring Lom's inquires for the past week.  What amnesty deal? Hannibal Heyes was going to stand trial and pay for his life of crime. The banks and railroads weren’t going to allow it to be any other way. Heyes had been a fool to believe otherwise!

Kid must be doing better by now. Lom said he was doing better—considering. Whatever that meant. Heyes could just walk out of this jailhouse right here and now and somehow make his way back into Colorado. He'd accomplished more difficult tasks than that before, he'd find a way. Then he could snatch up the Kid and they could lay low for a while till Curry was okay to travel. Maybe rest up a bit at Devil's Hole and plan one more big job and then hightail it to South America. Anything was better than being stuck here—totally impotent.

He had made up his mind, he was going to go! He retrieved his makeshift lock pick from the mattress, grabbed his hat and his jacket and quietly unlocked the cell door. He made a quick survey of the other sleeping lumps in their cots then slipped out of the tiny cell and headed for the heavy wooden door that separated the cell block from the office area. It took him a little longer to pick that lock as it was much heavier than the cell locks were, but he still managed to get it done. He quietly pushed the door open, just enough to get a quick survey of the room on the other side and then felt that it was safe enough to open it further and slip through.

The office area was well lit but quiet. He tip toed into the room, looking around, seeing if there was anything handy lying about that might come in useful. Nothing. All the rifles were locked up and he couldn't see any money there for the grabbing. There was a safe in the corner and he was tempted, but then he heard the rustling of papers and a quiet cough coming from an open door leading into what Heyes assumed was another office. He vetoed the safe idea.

He glided silently over to the front door and even had his hand on the knob, preparing to open it when he was stopped by a nagging whispering memory in his head; 'I swear Joshua, you're incorrigible. I'm beginning to think you ask for the treatment you get at the hands of these lawmen.' and then, adding to his guilty conscience even more; 'Listen to me Joshua...there are people out here who care about you and Thaddeus...we will not just sit back and forget about you, do you understand?'. Heyes sighed. That just wasn't fair! Where was this coming from? It didn't use to matter to him what other people thought. What were they to him?

Now all of a sudden he realized that he did have people going out on a limb for him and for Kid. He did have friends, and yes, family who were willing to sacrifice in order to stand by him. Lom had done a lot for them and it wasn't his fault at all if the Governor reneged on their deal.  And Heyes making a run for it now would probably put Lom in a great deal of trouble. And what about Jesse, and Belle and the girls? They'd done so much to help them and were still helping them. And suddenly Heyes felt the chill of responsibility concerning two young ladies who admired him and respected him and had given their love and friendship willingly and without measure. Beth and Bridget only knew Joshua Smith and with a shot to his heart he thought; 'What would they think of Hannibal Heyes?'  What would it do to them if he now decided to throw all that away and disappear into the night?

With a sigh of regret he backed off from the door wishing in some ways that he could just go back to being Hannibal Heyes, the outlaw. Choices were so much simpler then. But the time had passed for that now, he had developed a conscience. Turning, he stood for a moment looking through the open door of the adjacent office where the Sheriff on night shift was doing his paper work. If Heyes were really quiet, he could just sneak back down to his cell and it would be like nothing had happened. But then he heard the scrapping of chair legs on the floor and he knew it was too late.

The Sheriff walked into the main office intending to get a re-fill for his coffee cup when he looked up and found himself staring into the deep brown eyes of the notorious outlaw. Heyes gave him his most charming smile.

“Howdy Sheriff.”

The empty coffee cup clattered to the floor and Heyes found himself staring down the barrel of the Sheriff's revolver. Heyes dropped his smile and raised his hands. The Sheriff was on him in an instant, spun him around and slammed him into the wall. A quick search revealed the makeshift lock pick and the fun and games had come to an end.

Later that morning, Lom came into the cell block to find Heyes lying on the mattress on the floor with his hands cuffed behind him—again. The cot, with its handy supply of lock picks had been removed.

“Aww, Heyes.” Lom said in a long suffering tone. “What have you gone and done this time?”

“Howdy Lom.” Heyes greeted his friend innocently while he struggled to get to his feet from the reclining position, still feeling a twinging protest from his injured rib. “Any word from the Governor?”

“No.”Lom answered in a somewhat defeatist tone. Then he gave Heyes a closer scrutiny and changed the subject. “You didn't sleep again did you.”

“Oh, it's just so hard to sleep with all the excitement going on around here.” Heyes answered him sarcastically. “We almost had a jailbreak during the night.”

“So I heard. You're not doing yourself any favours Heyes.”

Then Sheriff Turner, who was pretty much the head honcho at this particular establishment, entered the cell block and unlocking the door to Heyes' cell, beckoned him over.

“Seems you've had a bit of a reprieve, Mr. Heyes,” he said, while unlocking the cuffs. “Though after your escapades of last night, I wonder at the wisdom of it. Here, turn around.”

Heyes did so while sending a questioning look towards Lom. Turner snapped the handcuffs back in place again, so that Heyes' hands were now shackled in front of him.

“I finally found you a lawyer who's willing to take your case.” Lom explained. “He went to the Judge and convinced him that keeping you locked up in a cell 24/7 for three months was inhumane, so the Judge agreed that you could get out for an hour everyday so long as you were shackled and in the company of a lawman at all times.”

“Oh. Well. Thank you.”

“If you make me regret this Heyes....”

“No no, I won't. Honestly Lom, thank you.” Lom nodded an acknowledgment, then accepting the keys for the handcuffs from Turner, he escorted his friend towards the exit. “Where are we going?”

“I told your lawyer to meet us over at the cafe.” Lom answered him. “I figured you'd had enough of jail food by now and could do with a decent meal.”

Heyes smiled. “Ohhh yeah. You're a good friend Lom.”

“Huh hu. After that stunt you pulled last night I'm surprised Turner let you out at all.” Lom commented. “What were you thinking? I thought you said you were prepared to deal with this situation.”

“I know Lom, I'm sorry.” Heyes was sincere in his apology. “I was getting a little claustrophobic in there that’s all. I had actually decided to not go through with it when the night guard caught me.” Lom sent him a skeptical look “Honest Lom, I was heading back to my cell, not out the door, otherwise I'd have been long gone by now.”

Lom had to concede that that was more likely. He sighed as they headed across the street towards the cafe.

“Yeah, alright Heyes. I guess I believe you. You're too darn good at what you do to have gotten caught that easily.”

Heyes smiled broadly. “Thank you Lom. That's a rare compliment coming from you.”

“Heyes, why do I get the feeling that the only person you’re ever truly honest with is Kid?”

Heyes dropped his flippant demeanor.  “He’s not the only one Lom.”

“Hmmm.”

They entered the cafe and Lom headed them over to a table that was a little ways away from the other patrons so they could talk in a certain amount of privacy.

The young waitress headed over to take their orders. Heyes tucked his hands under the table, feeling a little embarrassed about the cuffs. Especially in front of such a pretty young thing.

She smiled sweetly. “What can I get for you gentlemen?”

“I'll just have coffee,” said Lom “But I think my friend here would like something more substantial.”

“Oh yes!” Heyes was adamant. “Coffee for sure. And just whatever you're serving for breakfast will be fine.” And he flashed his dimples at her.

She smiled and blushed slightly. “I'll be right back with your coffee's.”  And off she skipped to go get them.

“Will you cut that out!” Lom admonished him once the waitress had gone.

“What?”

“Oh, never mind,” then Lom brightened up and motioned over to a young man who had just entered the establishment. “Here he is.”

Heyes stood up as the lawyer approached and shook hands with him as best he could given the current circumstances.

“Good morning Mr. Heyes,” he greeted his new client. “I'm Steven Granger. I have been retained by Sheriff Trevors here to act on your behalf.”

“Hmm, good,” said Heyes as they both sat down. “I take it that means you're my lawyer.”

“Yes, Mr. Heyes. I'm your lawyer,” Granger agreed, already wondering if he hadn't made a mistake. “I see you're taking advantage of your reprieve from the jail. I hope you don't intend on abusing this privilege.”

Heyes smiled a little at the thought that an hour a day instead of full bail was to be considered a privilege. But he decided he'd better play the game at least until he had this awfully young lawyer figured out.

“No, Mr. Granger, I don't intend to abuse the privilege.”

At that point coffee arrived and two cups were set down in front of them.

“Oh, hello Steven,” the waitress greeted the new addition. “Would you like anything?”

“No Betsy, that's fine. I'm just here on business.”

She nodded and smiled and then glanced over at Heyes as he was holding the coffee cup up to his nose and with eyes closed was inhaling the rich aroma of the freshly brewed beverage. It was then that Betsy noticed the handcuffs and her interest was piqued even more as she realized who this dark, handsome stranger probably was. It had been the buzz of the town when Hannibal Heyes had been brought in to await trial but it had never occurred to her that she would actually be serving him in her cafe! She moved off, a little lighter in her step, to retrieve his breakfast.

Lom rolled his eyes. Heyes was totally oblivious. He took a sip of the hot liquid, and with his eyes still closed
savoured its strong flavour in his mouth before allowing it to finally slide down his throat.

“Ahhh, coffee,” he murmured. “That stuff they serve over at the jail can only be described as coloured water or mud soup, depending on the time of day.”

Then Betsy returned with a large plate covered with scrambled eggs, bacon, sausages and ham and plunked that down on the table in front of him, along with a set of utensils.

“Here's your breakfast, Mr. Heyes,” she said sweetly. “I hope you enjoy it.”

“Thank you,” he answered, with a huge smile. “I'm sure I will.”

The smile he received back was radiant, and then she practically skipped off again to tend to her other patrons. Heyes immediately tucked into the meal, and despite the awkwardness of the handcuffs, was making short work of it indeed.

“So,” Mr. Granger began as he watched Heyes put away his breakfast. “I understand from Sheriff Trevors that you were hoping for a pardon from the Governor and thereby avoid doing any prison time for you crimes. Is this the outcome you expect from your trial?”

Heyes took a swallow of coffee and considered his answer.

“No Mr. Granger,” he finally admitted. “I don't think the Governor is going to honour the deal that was made with us, otherwise he would have stepped forward by now.”

Granger nodded. “I'm afraid I agree with you,” he admitted. “Not only do you not have any written proof of this arrangement, but the deal you supposedly made was not even with the current Governor. Chances of it standing up in court are pretty slim.”

“But it could be noted,” Heyes continued. “that in keeping with that deal, my partner and I have lived honest lives for the last five years proving that we can do it—that we in fact have done it. So sending us to prison in order to reform us would be kind of redundant.”

“Yes, we can go at it from that angle,” Granger agreed. “It will depend on whether the jury believes that prison is intended for reformation or for punishment. There are many powerful people in this territory who wish to see you punished for your crimes and the fact that you have been inactive in your criminal careers for five years would be irrelevant to them.”

Heyes nodded, this was sounding pretty much like what he was expecting. Betsy came by again to take away the empty breakfast plate, and re-fill the coffee cups.

“Would you like anything more Mr. Heyes?”

“Yeah,” Heyes mumbled. “Keys to the handcuffs and a fast horse.”

“Pardon me?”

Heyes smiled up at her. “Never mind. That was a wonderful breakfast Betsy, just keep the coffee coming and I'll be a happy man.”

Betsy smiled again and poured the coffee into his cup. She then started to move away to the other tables, completely forgetting about Lom's empty cup until he beckoned her over again. She smiled apologetically at him as she came back and re-filled his as well, but then her eyes were back on Heyes and she would have spilled coffee all over Lom if he hadn't brought her attention back to her duty.

“Oh, I'm sorry Sheriff.”

“Huh hu.”

“Would you like anything else?”

“No, thank you.”

Betsy was still smiling at Heyes as she moved off to attend to the other patrons. Lom shook his head but Heyes wasn't even aware of the interplay going on around and about him. He had other things on his mind.

“Of course we could always play on the sympathy of the jurors.” Granger continued after Betsy had left. “The fact that you have been staying out of trouble shows that your intentions of going straight were honourable. That you never killed anyone and that you only went after the larger corporations may have the general citizenry in favour of leniency. It's not likely you'll get off scott free, but maybe a reduced sentence.”

“How reduced?” Heyes asked.

“Well, maybe ten years.”

Heyes groaned. “Ten years....may as well be twenty,” he mumbled.

Lom was getting nervous. He felt for his friend but they couldn't back out of it now. There might still be a chance that the Governor would come through for them, but if Heyes lost hope he might just disappear and any chance for leniency would be out the window.

“Heyes?” Lom tried to pull him out of his musings. “Heyes!”

“Yeah.... what?”

“Come on, don't give up. It's early days yet.” Lom tried to sound encouraging. “We still have time before your trial date. You and Kid did a lot of jobs for influential people over the years, we can try to get in touch with some of them, get their testimonies.”

“Indeed,” Granger seconded, willing to grasp onto anything hopeful. “That would be a good place to start. Get me a list of names to contact and I'll see what I can come up with.”

“There you go Heyes. That's something you can work on this afternoon,” Lom suggested, relieved that they were able to make some progress at least.

Heyes wasn't looking particularly enthusiastic. Lom sighed.  This was going to be a long summer.


"How are you feeling?"

“Bored.”

“No, I mean your shoulder.”

“Hurts.”

“C'mon Jed, you've got to give me a little more than that.”

David and Jed locked eyes, brown into blue. Jed missed his partner even more.

“It just hurts David! What do you want me to say?” Kid was frustrated. “I'm just stuck here, chained to this bed! I can't feed myself, I can't tend to my own necessities, I can't go for a walk, go for a ride, damn! I can't even read! Heyes would love that one! When are you going to let me out of here?!”

“You'd rather be in a jail cell?”

“At least in a cell I could move around, tend to my own needs! This is just maddening—and embarrassing!”

David sat back in his chair, crossing his arms, and intently surveyed his patient. Jed was standing on the far side of the bed, staring out the window at the two horses contentedly grazing out in the pasture, his left arm still cuffed to the wrought iron head board. Frustration emanated off him in waves. The man was about to blow.

David knew that Jed needed something to distract him, to keep him occupied, but he was at a loss as to what to suggest. Rick refused to remove the handcuffs and David refused to give Curry the go-ahead to move into town and away from this haven. Jed was strong enough for the trip, had been for some time but David knew that Jed would not be getting the tender loving care in a jail cell that he was getting here, and right now, tender loving care was exactly what that shoulder needed.

David sighed. Heal the body but let the brain go to hell?

“I know Jed. I'll talk to Rick, see if I can convince him to let you out of this room for a while. Some exercise would be good for you about now.”

“Yeah, why don't you do that,” Jed answered, somewhat sardonically. Heyes wasn't here, Curry figured he'd just fill in for his partner. “Go talk to Rick, he'll be so sympathetic to my plight.”

David nodded quietly to himself, got up and left the room. There was no point in continuing the conversation when his patient was in this kind of mood.  Sam was snoozing in the chair by the bedroom door, waiting for Rick to arrive from town to relieve him.  David continued on passed him, and as he went by the kitchen, Belle handed him a cup of morning coffee and smiled sympathetically.

“How is he this morning?” she asked.

“Testy.”

“Yes, I'd noticed.”

“Is Rick not here yet?  Running a bit late isn’t he?”

“Yes, a little, but he should be here any time now.”

“How about Jesse?

“Out in the barn.”

“Good,” said David as he headed towards the front door, still nursing his cup of coffee.  It was time for a conference.

 Sure enough Jesse was out in the first barn cleaning up the stalls.  With Sam on guard duty all night and Rick being more diligent with his prisoner, some of the chores were getting neglected.  So for now it was up to Jesse to fill the gap. He smiled as the doctor walked in, knowing something was up.

 “Well David, what’s the prognosis this morning?”

 “He’s feeling the strain of his confinement,” David answered. “He needs to get out, blow off some steam.”

 “That’s not surprising.  He’s a young man, not used to being holed up like that.”

 “You know him better than anybody here Jesse, do you trust him?”

 Jesse stopped what he was doing and considered the question for a moment. “Well, he gave me his word he would behave himself.  Still, I don’t think it would be a good idea to put too much temptation in his path.  What did you have in mind?”

 “I don’t know,”  David admitted.  “Even just to get out and be able to walk around the yard a bit, brush his horse, do something.  I know he thinks he’s got lots of energy, but he’ll tire out pretty quickly.  Just some fresh air would do him the world of good though, help to relieve some of that stress we’re all well aware is building up.”

 “Well, Rick ought to be here any time now.  We’ll see what he says.”


Richard was skeptical.  “Who’s to say he won’t just high tail it out of here the first chance he gets?  We all know what happened last time.”

  “He wasn’t thinking clearly last time Rick, you know that,”  Jesse reminded him.

 “And now that he is thinking clearly, you think that poses less of a risk?”

 “He gave me his word.”

 “And you trust him?”

 “Yes.”

 “I donno. As far as I’m concerned he should be locked up in a cell by now.  He’s strong enough to be driven into town.”

 “He’s getting the medical attention out here that he needs,” David responded..“Once he’s in a cell who’s going to be doing that—Joe?”

 “Oh come off it Doc.  You know darn well both you and your wife will be over at that jailhouse every other hour to make sure he has all the comforts of home.”  Then he stopped and hesitated a little over the next bit of news.  Oh well, may as well spit it out. “He’s not going to be in your care for much longer anyways so you may as well stop worrying about it.”

 “What do you mean?”

 “I got a telegram from Morrison last night, he’s on his way back here to collect Curry and extradite him to Wyoming,”  Rick informed them.  “And about bloody time too.”

 David was livid.  “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

 “I just did!”

 “He’s not up to a trip that long!  Who does Morrison think he is?  He just snatches up my patients in the middle of the night and disappears over the border!  Hannibal wasn’t ready for a trip like that, and neither is Jed!”

 “Well ‘Hannibal’ made it didn’t he?!  And so will Curry!  You keep making the mistake in assuming that these men are your patients rather than our prisoners!  You have say over their medical care while they’re here, but Morrison has the say as to where they go and when!  Get used to it Doc; you’re not the one in charge here!  Morrison won’t be here for a few days yet, so that’s how much time you have to get your ‘patient’ ready for the road!”

 At which point Rick turned and stormed out of the barn, leaving his horse standing in the middle of the isle wondering who was going to feed him breakfast.

 “Dammit!  Dammit, dammit DAMMIT!!!”

 “Well,”  sighed Jesse putting a consolatory hand on the doctor’s shoulder.  “How about another cup of coffee David?”


 Rick had flared up quickly into a rage.  If there had been a cat available he would have kicked it, or tried to anyways.  It’s not such an easy thing to kick a cat.  He hated losing his temper, but he was just so frustrated with this current situation and Doctor David Gibson wasn’t helping much!  As far as Rick was concerned, keeping the prisoner here where he had to be constantly under guard was wearing everybody a little thin, and it wasn’t doing Curry much good either.

One more day, Rick fumed.  One more day and he was taking Curry into town where he could sit in a damn cell until Morrison came to collect him.  Enough of this!  Rick paced back and forth over by the second barn, smart enough even in his anger to avoid going anywhere near the prisoner just in case he lost it altogether and started using Curry as a convenient punching bag.  The three dogs, who had been snoozing in the hay decided it was time to slink off to a more comfortable location.

 Rick fumed and snarled and gnashed his teeth, and then finally began to calm down.  Curry was just as frustrated as he was, probably even more so and the deputy knew that.  This forced inactivity was nearly at an end for Rick and he at least, got time off and could head back into town every evening for a beer and an occasional romp in the sack with some fetching wench from the saloon.  But the outlaw’s forced confinement was just beginning and was going to get worse—far worse, so, maybe Rick should cut him a little slack.

 But what if he made a run for it again?  Jordan seemed to think that he wouldn’t, but what if he did?  Dammit!  Well, just keep your eyes on him, Rick told himself.  Don’t let him out of your sight and keep the rifle handy.  But again, what if he made a run for it?  I’d have to kill him is all.  Finish what was started.  Yeah, that would go over really well with this group.  Dammit!

 Rick stopped pacing and stood, staring back towards the house, chewing his lip.  David came out of the first barn, then stopped when he saw Rick and the two men stood and stared at each other.  Finally Rick threw up his hands in defeat and walked over to the doctor.

 “Alright!”  he said.  “You win!  But just in the house and in the yard area—no getting on any horses!  And tomorrow I take him into town.”

 David smiled.  “Agreed.  Thank you.  But tomorrow, I’ll take him into town.  He’s still not strong enough to be riding that far.  I’ll take him in the surrey.”

 “Fine”

 So that was how Jed Curry got to spend his last day on the Jordan ranch a relatively free man.  Before going to bed for the day Sam had brought the two horses back in from the field so Jed could spend some time in the barn, brushing his gelding.  If he got through that without collapsing then maybe there were a few other things around the place he could do that weren’t too strenuous.

 Rick sat on a bale of hay, a coffee cup in his right hand and his rifle casually, but obviously resting in the crook of his left arm.  Other than the sounds of the brush scraping against the horse’s hide, and the occasional soft murmurings from Curry to the animal, silence reigned.

 It felt good to be out of the house for a while and Jed found himself slowly relaxing as he brushed his horse.  It was a warm summer morning and the barn smelled sweet and fresh.  The sounds of the horses contentedly munching their hay and of the birds chirping up in the rafters couldn’t help but wash away the frustrations of his confinement.

 After a while, Curry snuck a glance over at the deputy and thought that there’d be no harm in trying to strike up a conversation with the man.  Rick seemed like an okay fella, even if he was a lawman.

 “So, deputy…where do you call home?”

 “Wyoming,”  came the sterile reply.

 “Were you born there?”

 “Yeah.”

 “Really?  Never moved anywhere else?”

 “Nope, born there, grew up there, live there.”

 “You married?”

 “Nope.”

 “Is deputing your full time job?”

 “Nope.”

 Curry signed.  He stopped brushing his horse, and leaning against the animal’s shoulder, sent Rick an exasperated look.  “Not much for talking are ya'?”

 “What do you want Curry?  A blow by blow description of what’s gonna happen to you, like the ‘good doctor’ gives you?”

 “Just trying to make conversation,”  Curry mumbled and went back to brushing Buck.

 Silence reigned again.  Then Rick sighed and relaxed his countenance just a bit. “Yeah, alright,”   he consented.  “I just can’t decide whether to trust you or not.”

 Curry smiled.  “You can trust me deputy, I’m not going anywhere.”  Then added under his breath.  “Probably wouldn’t get very far anyways.”

 “I was married,”  Rick offered up the information.  “She died though, in childbirth.  Lost both of em.”

 “Oh, that’s rough.”

 “Yeah, it was,”  Rick admitted.  “But I got a nice little spread there over by Murreyville.  It keeps me busy.”

 “So you don’t work for Sheriff Morrison full time then.”

 “Hell no.  He just calls on me for certain jobs.  Like when he needs a good hand with a rifle.”

 Curry stopped brushing Buck again and looked over at the deputy. “You the one who shot me?”

 Rick met those brilliant blue eyes that had just turned to ice and held them.

 “Yes.”

 A strained silence settled over the barn.  Rick didn’t tense, didn’t move a muscle, but he was ready and so was his rifle.  Just let Curry try to make a move towards him—it would be his last.

 Then Jed nodded and smiled slightly, the tension easing.

 “You’re good.”

 “I know.”

Any further conversation, if there was going to be any, was interrupted by Beth coming into the barn. She was smiling at Thaddeus, until she saw Rick sitting there and her smile dropped. She looked embarrassed and irritated all at the same time.

“Oh, Deputy Layton. I didn’t realize you were in here,” then she added as an afterthought; “But then, where else would you be.”

Rick got the hint.

“Yeah, alright,” he stated as he stood up from the hay bale. “But I’ll be right outside Curry, so don’t even think about going anywhere.”

Curry nodded his acknowledgment. Beth waited until the deputy had left and sat herself down on the same bale, sending her friend a somewhat melancholy smile.

“Papa says you’re feeling better today.”

“Yeah, I am. Shoulder still hurts, but that morphine works wonders.”

“Papa also says that you’re probably going to be leaving tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I think that’s the plan.”

Beth nodded sadly, avoiding his eyes. “I’m going to miss you.”

“Well, I’m going to miss you too Beth.” Curry admitted this quite honestly. Then, trying to lighten the mood, he smiled and gave Buck a quick pat on the shoulder. “There is something you and your sister can do for me while I’m gone though, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Beth brightened up. “Of course Thaddeus, anything you’d like!”

Jed smiled even broader as he recognized Belle in her daughter’s words.

“Well, I don’t suppose I’ll be taking Buck with me and he and Karma-Lou could really do with some regular exercise again. Do you think you and Bridget could start taking them out for a run now and then? It doesn’t have to be every day, but a few times a week would be good for them.”

“Really!?” Beth stood up in her excitement, her eyes sparkling with the new adventure. “That would be wonderful! We wouldn’t mind at all looking after your horses for you—that is until you and Joshua can come back and get them.”

Kid turned solemn “It might be a while before we can get back for them Beth. You know that don’t you?”

Beth nodded, her smile fading. “Yes, I know.”

“So it would take a real load off my mind, and Joshua’s too, if we knew they were being looked after proper,” he brightened up again. “They’re not gun shy either. You and Bridget can practice your rifle shooting from horseback if you want. Though watch Karma, she can be a little skittish at times.”

“I don’t really want to shoot a rifle anymore,” Beth admitted.

Curry looked confused. “Why not? I thought you and Bridget really enjoyed your target shooting.”

“Yeah, but….” Beth started, then she met Thaddeus’ gaze for an instant, glanced at his wounded shoulder and then dropped her eyes altogether.

A shadow of guilt fell over the Kid. He’d have given anything for the girls not to have witnessed that assault “I’m sorry Beth,” he said quietly. “That must have been a terrible day for you and your sister.”

“Yes,” Beth admitted in a tight, small voice as she fought to control the sudden tears that threatened. “I was so scared, Thaddeus. I thought you were going to die, I was so scared!”

Jed held out his left arm to her and giving up the fight against the tears, she ran into his embrace and held on tight. Jed held her as best he could, despite the pain it caused his shoulder. He began stroking her hair and whispering soft assurances to her feeling that he wanted to take away all her worries and concerns.

He could feel her body trembling, and her heart beating against his chest. He thought about how much she had grown in the past four years, how her head just fit so naturally under his chin and he held her tight against him trying to calm her sobs. He noticed that she wasn’t a little girl anymore, that she was developing into a pretty young woman and felt an unexpected stirring inside that had nothing to do with wanting to comfort her. Then he felt ashamed.

He closed his eyes and sighed. What was he doing, thinking about her like that? She was family, like a niece or a sister! And she was just so young. He couldn’t allow himself to think about her like that!

He thought back to what she had done that day when he was out of his mind and trying to run. How she had risked her own life to save his. It had scared him to death when he heard about it, but another part of him admired and respected her for her courage and determination. So long as she never tried something crazy like that again! He was not at all comfortable with the notion of her dying for him. His protective instinct kicked in even stronger and he held her tightly in his embrace and gave her a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

He opened his eyes and found Jesse staring at him.

A tingling of shame spread over Jed again as the two men gazed at each other. The silence in the barn grew heavy broken only by Beth’s sobs that were gradually subsiding, though her hold on Jed did not loosen.

Finally Jesse broke the silence. “Belle wanted me to tell you that there is some lunch up on the porch if you’d care to join us.”

Upon hearing her father’s voice, Beth pushed away from Jed, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“Okay, Papa,” she said with a wet smile and she walked over to him and gave him a hug before continuing on towards the house.

Once she was out of earshot Jesse turned to Jed, not quite sure what he was feeling at this moment. “Is there anything you need to tell me Thaddeus?”

“No Jesse. On my honour, there isn’t.”

“Okay. Come on up to the house and get something to eat.”

Then Jesse turned and walked away, following his daughter. Jed stood alone in the barn for a few more minutes, guilt and shame turning his stomach into a knot.


Late afternoon had rolled around by the time Sam had awakened and was heading towards the ranch house in search of some coffee and maybe a light snack before supper time. The first thing he noticed was Rick leaning back in one of the porch chairs with his feet up and his hat pulled over his eyes. Not exactly a picture of the diligent guard at work.

Sam started coming up the steps, and then noticed another sublime figure to his left and was stopped in his tracks with surprise. The sight that met his eyes was one that in all his born days, he would never have expected to see; Jed ‘Kid’ Curry, notorious gunslinger, was sound asleep in Belle’s rocking chair and nestled safe and content in the crook of his left arm was Jesse Jr, also sound asleep. This particular outlaw was really confusing Sam’s well established vision of world order.

Just then Jesse Sr. walked out the front door of the house and seeing what had Sam standing there with his mouth open, smiled and then beckoned the young man to join him for a walk in the yard. Sam turned and followed Jesse down the steps, wondering what was up. As soon as Jesse reached a point where he considered them to be out of earshot of the house, he turned and assessed the young man before him.

“Well Sam,” Jesse began. “I know you have a job to finish here for Morrison but I’m thinking that you might have had a change of heart as to your choice of career paths. Am I right?”

Sam hesitated. How is it that Jesse could know this? Sam hadn’t said anything. Like most young men Sam was totally unaware that the confusion and turmoil that he had been suffering from these past few weeks had been written quite plainly on his face.

“As you know there are about six two year olds down in the south pasture that need to be rounded up, broke out and sold before fall.” Jesse continued. “You’re a good hand with the horses Sam, and I need a good man here to help out with the work this summer. On top of that, you’re young and strong and you still bounce! I take a fall off of one those broncs I’ll hit the ground with a THUD and then be laid up till next spring. So, I’m offering you a job here if you want it. You get done with Morrison and decide you might prefer it here, well, you’re welcome to come back.”

Sam was speechless for a moment. He never would have believed that after what he had done that Mr. Jordan would be willing to let him come back to work here. He glanced over towards the house where he knew the three Jordan women were preparing the evening meal.

“Do you think Bridget will ever talk to me again?”

Jesse smiled. “I don’t know,” he confessed. “She certainly won’t if you continue on with your current line of employment. If you come back to work here she may not have any choice but to forgive and move past it. Only time is going to tell on that one.”

Sam hesitated a moment, then nodded. “Thank you Mr. Jordan, I think I would like to do that. Maybe not permanent, but at least until I can figure out what else I really want to do with my life.”

“Fair enough,” Jesse agreed. “But Sam, if you ever show disloyalty to me or to this family again you’ll be off this property faster than you can wrap your bedroll. Is that understood?”

“Yes sir, Mr. Jordan,” Sam agreed. “And I promise, you won’t regret giving me a second chance. I won’t betray your trust again.”

“Fine,” said Jesse. “Now, you and Rick are welcome to join the family for supper this evening since you’ll all be leaving in the morning anyways.” And then added as an afterthought. “Hopefully we can all find a way to get along.”


Later that night when the household was once again quieting down into slumber, Belle and Jesse were lying in each other’s arms in bed, discussing the most recent turn of events.

“What do you mean you already knew?” asked Jesse incredulously.

“Well, not ‘knew’ as such, but had my suspicions,” his wife assured him.

“How?”

“All you had to do was see Beth light up every time Thaddeus came into the room.”

“I never noticed anything!”

Belle smiled and gave her husband an assuring pat on his chest. “That’s alright dear, you can’t notice everything,” she told him. “That’s why there’s two of us.”

Jesse groaned and ran the hand that wasn’t wrapped around his wife over his eyes.

“What are we going to do about this?” he wondered. “What about Thaddeus? Does he feel the same way?”

“I don’t know,” Belle admitted. “I don’t think he knows how he feels right now. He has too many other things on his mind.”

Jesse lay there for a few minutes, staring up at the ceiling. He’d always thought that it would be his eldest daughter who would be giving him these kinds of problems first.

“Well, it may all just work itself out anyways,” Jesse reasoned. “Thaddeus is leaving in the morning and there’s no telling when, or even ‘if’ he’s ever going to get back here again. Not that I want to see Thaddeus go to prison!” he quickly expostulated. “I just mean, some time apart might be a good thing.”

Belle smiled but kept her thoughts to herself. She couldn’t help but remember Beth’s premonitions and to feel in herself that there was much more to this than just a teenager’s crush and an outlaw’s loneliness. Time would tell, indeed.


The trip into Brookswood the next morning was totally uneventful. David had arrived earlier than usual and had helped to get Curry ready for the change in location. As far as Jed was concerned the most important thing David did was give him another dose of morphine. Not enough to really knock him out, but enough to ease the pain that being jostled about in a surrey would otherwise cause his injury.

The goodbye’s to the Jordan family had been awkward and painful all around and Jed had been somewhat relieved when Rick had finally hustled him into the waiting surrey and handcuffed him to the armrest. David then picked up the reins, and clucking his horse into motion, headed down the roadway with Rick and Sam riding shotgun on either side of the vehicle.

Much like Heyes had done before him, Curry felt the heartache of leaving his horse behind. Moving past the field at a steady jog trot, he couldn’t take his eyes off the two animals that were out there contentedly grazing totally unaware that the last connection to their previous lives was disappearing down the road. To Curry, the severing of that tie held more foreboding than the clanging of a cell door closing. They weren’t just horses. They were freedom.

Other than the occasional query from David as to how Jed was fairing and Jed’s non-committal reply, silence reigned for the duration of the trip in to town. Surrounded by people, Curry had never felt so alone. Arriving on the main street of town he hardly noticed the curious glances from the people they passed but as they got closer to the Sheriff’s office it became difficult not to notice the attention he was getting. Once word that Kid Curry was being brought in by the Doctor had spread around town, it didn’t take long for a small crowd to develop at their destination, all straining for a look at the infamous outlaw.

Sheriff Jacobs was alerted by the congregation outside and stepped out onto the boardwalk to receive the prisoner. He was instantly bombarded by a flood of questions.

“Is that really Kid Curry, Sheriff?”

“Yes, I suppose it is,” came the reply

“So, he didn’t die after all huh?”

“He sure looks like death warmed over though.”

“I hear he’s the fastest gun in the west! Or—well he used to be, probably ain’t no more, ha ha.”

Well that one hurt. Curry sent the man the iciest stare he could muster through the morphine haze and that was the end of the comments. Didn’t stop them from standing and staring though and Kid felt particularly self-conscious when Rick unlocked the cuffs and hustled him a little too quickly out of the surrey. Kid stumbled and found himself in the humiliating position of having to lean on Rick in order to avoid falling right to the ground.

“A little more care, please Deputy,” David suggested. “He is drugged remember.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Richard grumbled, but then did show a little more concern as he helped Curry to find his footing again and then escorted him up the steps and into the office.

“Well Mr. Curry,” Jacobs greeted him. “I’ve been hearing a lot about you—and about your partner. You don’t intend on giving us any trouble here do you?”

Curry acknowledged the man through his light-headedness and then smiled. “No Sheriff, no trouble.”

“Good. Joe, take them in and put him in the first cell.”

“Yes sir, Sheriff.”

Then, just as Mike had done with Heyes, Rick with Curry in tow, followed Joe into the cell block and then pushed Curry into the same cell that had previously been occupied by his partner. Curry took a couple of steps forward and then stood there swaying until David nipped into the cell before Joe could shut the door, and grabbed hold of Jed’s left arm to steady him.

“Aww Doc,” Joe complained. “Are we going to go through this again? That Sheriff Morrison gave me hell last time.”

“Morrison’s not here right now Joe,” David reminded him. “And I just want to make sure the prisoner is comfortable before I leave. I don’t think Sheriff Jacobs will mind.”

“Well…I don’t know,” Joe began.

“Come on deputy,” Rick commented with a resigned sigh. “No point arguing with the Doc over stuff like this, they’ll be fine.”

David smiled. “I’ll call you when I’m done Joe. I won’t be long.”

“Yeah, okay,” and the two deputies left the cell block.

“Okay Jed,” David said with a relieved sigh. “The bunk is just straight ahead of you. Can you walk over to it?”

“Sure Doc.”

And Curry took some steps foreword and between the two of them, he managed to get over to and seated on the bunk without too much assistance from David. David did a quick exam of his patient, including checking his pupils and his heart rate and making sure that there was no telltale blood on the bandages that would indicate a tearing from the jolty ride. All seemed fine. David then sat down on the bunk beside Jed and gave him some words of caution.

“You haven’t been formally introduced to Sheriff Morrison yet Jed,” David began. “So a word of warning. That man is a bit of a bully so you need to be careful around him alright?”

“Careful?” Curry repeated.

“Yes. Don’t provoke him in any way,” David continued. “He won’t hesitate to hurt you the fastest and most efficient way open to him. In your case that means your shoulder. Do you understand me?”

“Yeah,” Curry said with a smile. “Be nice to Morrison.”

David was becoming a little frustrated finding himself being confronted with the same flippancy from Jed concerning lawmen as he’d had to deal with from Hannibal.

“Please don’t take this lightly Jed,” he continued, trying to speak calmly, but still get the message across. “Morrison won’t care how permanently he hurts you. If you provoke him in any way he’ll rip your shoulder apart just to make a point. Do you understand? The way it’s healing now there is a good possibility that you’ll get most of your mobility back, but if anymore damage is caused to it… well, just don’t provoke him. Alright? You understand me?”

Curry met David’s intense gaze and then nodded, “Yeah Doc, I understand.”

“Good,” said David as he stood up. “Try and get some rest.”

“Oh I am so sick and tired of hearing those words.”

“Well, I can ask the Sheriff to get you a paper or something to read, how’s that?”

Curry considered it for a moment. “No,” he finally responded. “I think I’ll try and get some rest.”

David smiled. “Fine. I’ll stop in and see you tonight.”

Curry nodded and stretched himself out on the bunk. Chances were very good that he was asleep before David left the cell block.


Heyes was finally asleep. Getting out for an hour a day was helping to ease some of his frustration and going over the past few years, trying to come up with names for the lawyer had given his brain something to work on. But he still couldn’t shut things down at night. For over two weeks he had been constantly pacing the cell; back and forth, up and down, figure eights and then back and forth again. Total exhaustion would finally allow him to lie down and shut his eyes to indulge in a partial doze, but then those would be filled with stressful dreams and mournful forebodings, so they didn’t offer much in the way of rest.

Lom had finally convinced Sheriff Turner to allow the local doctor to come in and take a look at the prisoner. That learned gentleman took one look at the red rimmed eyes and the sunken cheeks and left a bottle of laudanum to be given to the outlaw in dosages every night, otherwise the man might not be fit to stand trial three months down road.

That first night Heyes had taken the sleeping draft he had stayed down for fourteen hours. Once the drug had calmed his thoughts, his body and mind were so exhausted that they just didn’t want to wake up again. Lom had dropped by a couple of times to check up on his friend only to find him laid out on his mattress on the floor, a thin blanket partially covering him and only the slow rhythmic breathing of deep sleep to show that he was still alive.

When he finally came to, he was bleary eyed and still feeling exhausted, but hungry, so Lom escorted him over to the café again for some food. They sat there at that same table in companionable silence while Heyes nursed his coffee and yawned every five minutes. Lom didn’t like the look of him at all.

Locking Hannibal Heyes up in prison for twenty years was very likely going to kill him, that much was becoming obvious and the Sheriff was beginning to feel like his executioner. But what else could he do at this point? They’d come too far for Heyes to turn back now and Heyes was being stubborn about it anyways. Something about an obligation—a promise made that he wouldn’t back out of. That’s all he’d say.

“Come on Heyes, what do you want to eat?”

“I donno,” Heyes mumbled. “Something hot and comfortable.”

“Oatmeal?”

“Yeah, why not. Oatmeal.”

Lom gave Betsy the order and within a few minutes she returned with a large steaming bowl. She was shocked at the change in the handsome man, he looked exhausted, worn out. She hadn’t thought that being in a jail cell for a few weeks would do that to a person. She left the table feeling sorry for him, even though she hardly knew him.

“Look Heyes,” Lom began. “I’m going to have to leave you for awhile. Things to take care of back in Porterville. The town can’t run itself.”

Heyes nursed his oatmeal, staring down into the bowl. “I suppose,” he sounded disappointed.

“You knew I couldn’t stay here all summer. I’ll get back in a few weeks. In the meantime you and Granger can hash things out between you and get a plan of action going. Okay?”

“I suppose.”

Lom sighed, feeling defeated.

“You’ll still get out for your hour every day,” he tried to sound encouraging. “There are plenty enough deputies around here to escort you. Go for a walk around town or something, get your blood going a bit.”

“Yeah, you’re right Lom, I’m sorry,” Heyes tried to perk himself up. It was a valiant effort. “I know you can’t stick around here indefinitely, you’ve got things to do. I just feel awful, I guess I burned myself out.”

“I’ll say,” Lom agreed. “I thought you had figured out ways to shut that brain of yours off when you needed to rest.”

“Yeah, so did I,” Heyes answered. “None of them were working. I’ll have to come up with a new technique.” He took a deep breath and straightened himself up. He smiled over at Lom and a little bit of the sparkle had come back into his eyes. “Let me finish my breakfast and down a couple of more cups of coffee and then we’ll go for a walk. You’re right, it’ll probably do me good.”

Lom smiled back, feeling a bit more relieved.


The walk did do Heyes some good. He took his jacket along just so he could drape it over the handcuffs so he wouldn’t feel so exposed. Most of the people in town kinda already knew who he was though and he found himself giving a nod and a smile to many of the folks he passed in the street. It did boost his spirits a bit to know that at least the common people still thought kindly towards him, unfortunately it was going to be the wealthy corporations who were going to have the final say in the matter. Nope—no such thing as a fair trial, well, depending on your point of view Heyes supposed.

By the time they got back to the jail, Heyes was feeling much more like his normal self but that just made it all the harder to step back into the confined space of his cell again. Still, he allowed Lom to escort him into the cell block, just in time to witness a couple of the deputies coming out of his cell. Apparently they had taken advantage of his absence by supplying him with another cot for his mattress, one without wire bindings this time.

“Awww, gee,” commented Heyes sarcastically. “And just when I was beginning to build a good rapport with the rats too.”

The looks that the two deputies threw back at him were anything but amused. Lom sighed and shook his head as he removed Heyes’ cuffs and closed the cell door on him.

“I swear Heyes,” he said. “You don’t do yourself any favours. If you cut these guys some slack you might just find yourself being treated better.”

Heyes leaned up against the bars and smiled a little ruefully at his friend.

“Yeah, someone else said something similar to me not too long ago,” he admitted. “Maybe I do need to change my attitude a little bit. But it’s just so easy to needle them!”

Then a familiar but unwelcome individual came into the cell block and approached Heyes’ cell. The smile dropped from Heyes’ face and he moved away from the bars. Morrison smiled as he held Heyes’ eyes with his.

“Good to see our lessons paid off Heyes,” he commented. “You’ll do well to remember them, considering where you’re going.”

Lom felt himself bristling a little at this man’s obvious malice.

“That’s hardly a forgone conclusion— Sheriff…?”

“Morrison.”

“Oh, yes. Heyes as told me about you.”

Morrison smiled over at Heyes again, “I’m sure he has,” then back to Lom. “And you are…?”

“Trevors, sheriff out of Porterville.”

The two law officers shook hands, though at best it was a mere formality. There was already no love lose between the two.

“Just stopped by to check up on my prisoner before heading out of town again,” Morrison commented. “I’d heard our boy here took advantage of my absence last week and got up to a few of his old tricks. I just wanted to make sure he’s where he’s suppose to be.”

“Leaving Sheriff?” Heyes asked with a slight sneer in his voice. “I thought you’d want to stick around for the festivities.”

“Don’t you worry about that Heyes, I’ll be back in time for the trial. Wouldn’t miss that for the world,” Morrison assured him. “But in the mean time I’ve got other fish to fry.”

“Wouldn’t be my partner would it?” Heyes asked with a hard look in his eyes.

Morrison just smiled at him then tipping his hat to Lom, turned and walked out of the cell block.

Lom released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Geesh Heyes,” he said. “I see what you mean about that one. The Kid better watch his step.”

“Yeah,” Heyes agreed. “Do me a favour will ya Lom? You hear anything about how Kid is doing will you let me know? Nobody’s telling me anything.”

“Sure Heyes,” Lom agreed. “I’ll get in touch with that Jordan fella again and let you know what I find out. You know he’s offered to pay part of your lawyer fees. That’s some friend you’ve got there.”

“Yeah, I know Lom. He is that.”

“Okay Heyes. I’ll swing by and see you again before I leave town,” Lom promised. “Then you and Granger better get down to it. Your trial date is going to be here before you know it.”

So, the friends said 'goodbye' and Lom left the cell block leaving Heyes on his own again. Heyes glanced around at the other prisoners, wondering if anybody new had arrived, but no, just the same dreary lot that had been present fifteen hours ago. No stimulating conversation there. Heyes went over to his new cot and laid down in the hopes of maybe getting a little bit more sleep, but that wasn’t going to happen either. Well, probably for the better. He’d get some more laudanum for the night and get himself back on some sort of schedule.

After a few minutes he sat up and glanced over at the prisoner in the cell next to him.

“Hey Hank?” he called to the prone individual with the hat over his eyes.

“Yeah, what do ya want?”

“You done with today’s paper?”

In answer to the question, Hank grabbed the paper and shoved it through the bars and then promptly returned his hat to its resting place and went back to his snooze.

“Thanks.”

Heyes gathered up the paper, got it back in order and settled in to try and read the news of the day. He managed to kill about fifteen minutes with that endeavor before he realized that he’d just been reading the same page over and over again. He gave it up and tossed the paper aside in frustration. His brain was doing it to him again. It was running wild like a team of horses charging downhill and there was nothing he could do to put the brakes on! He sighed in total frustration, ran his hands through his hair and then punched the mattress just for good measure.

He looked around the cell block, sent a little bit of a sardonic smile to Carl over in the far cell who was watching Heyes have yet another meltdown. Then Heyes’ eyes kind of glazed over as his thoughts turned inwards, and almost without thinking about it, he stood up and started to pace.


TO BE CONTINUED

.

I can see a bored Heyes getting up to mischief and he seems to be developing a conscience - not about right and wrong - but about loyalty which is right in character for him. The Kid isn't the most patient patient either. This is building nicely.