Chapter Text
Winter’s Refuge
Chapter Two Hundred Forty-Three
HEYES
Dennis Walsh, no, I have to think of him as Denny, has shown flashes of a gentle, teasing humor, but the darkness of his treatment in the sanitarium haunts him. I hope it doesn’t break him. It happens suddenly and I can see it in his eyes…the fear, no, it’s terror and helpless panic. I think he hides somewhere in his mind. I can’t follow him there, but I might be able to keep his thoughts in the present, although he’s pretty scared about what is going on. He doesn’t really understand what is happening, where he is going. I try to sit with him, me in the doorway of the bright light of my room with one lamp turned off and him in the dim main room facing the lamp I turn off.
It’s been a long and what seems to be endless ride, but I must admit we’ve only made necessary stops. Today I understood that Dennis wanted me to write my name on the slate. He stared at it for a long time. I pointed to it and also used sign language to spell it while saying, “Heyes.”
He signed back, “Heyes, where go?”
I had told him before that we were going to my family home. Maybe he didn’t understand. Then I had an idea. I have very small copies of our family pictures in my wallet. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked to the nightstand, and removed the two pictures from my wallet. First, I showed him the picture of me and Angie, Nettie, and Alexander as I signed, “My wife.”
I was surprised that Dennis moved more into the bright light of my room and studied the image. He pointed at Angie and then at me and then back at Angie.
Again, I signed, “My wife,” but this time spelled out ‘A-N-G-I-E.’
He ran his finger over the arm I had around Angie’s waist. Then pointed to the kids and then me.
“Our kids,” I signed back as I spelled out their names in sign language.
He watched my hands intently but looked confused. Picking up the slate, he wrote, “Rite nam.”
Nodding, I pointed at Nettie and printed her name on the slate. I did the same for Alexander.
The room was quiet while he studied the picture until he finally signed, “My family?”
I nodded and signed, “Yes.” Handing him the picture of all the Heyes and Curry clan, I signed, “More family.”
Tears formed in his eyes as he gripped the pictures tightly. They were taken on our porch, the second one from a distance so that the camera could get all of us. He ran his finger over the picture window behind us and the door. “Heyes home?” he signed.
“Family home,” I signed back. Then added, “Now Denny home.”
LOM
I looked at the wanted posters Frank had found. The first three just had written descriptions that fit the dead man and a lot of other people. But the fourth one had a drawing of his face. I had no doubt that the Beaver Creek Kid was the dead man laying over at the undertakers. It’s been a long time since Heyes and the Kid were leading the Devil’s Hole Gang. Still, I was surprised when two of the posters described the Beaver Creek Kid as the fastest gun in the West. That was always the Kid’s title. After hearing many descriptions of the recent gunfight, I think the title belongs to the Kid still…not that he would want it.
“I sent a telegram to Beaver Creek to see if anyone knows the man’s given name,” Frank said, staring at the posters again. He was silent for a moment before adding, “Should have done more to stop the gunfight.” The regret and self-blame in his voice made me bow my head.
Steadying myself, I remembered that it was Frank I credit for recognizing the Kid’s depression and saving his life. “Heard you drew your gun and tried to stop it,” I said.
“Didn’t do any good,” he lamented, now holding his head in his hand.
“Frank, I know you’ve been a sheriff for a long time, but you’ve never been an outlaw or a gunfighter. Once the Kid and his opponent locked eyes with each other, there was no way you were going to diffuse the situation. Maybe Heyes could have, but I don’t think even he could have stopped it,” I told him.
“Jed’s the best friend I got,” Frank said softly.
“He and Heyes are my best friends. The Kid stopped me from killing myself with alcohol after Susan died. Made me realize the precious gift she had given me - Wayne,” I answered. Then it hit us at the same time. “Heyes! He’ll be here soon. We need to figure out how to help him.”
We nodded together. If the worst happens to the Kid, I don’t know if Heyes can take it. A light knock on the office door interrupted our thoughts.
“Come in,” said Frank.
The door handle turned slowly and Joy walked in, tears in her eyes. I stood up and lifted her in a hug, saying, “Aren’t you supposed to be at the Birde house?”
Nodding, she talked through her sniffles, “Is Pa dead? Nobody has told us what is going on. Oh, I’m sure he must have died or Ma or someone would have come and told us.” Her sniffles turned into sobs.
“Oh Joy, no, no. Your pa is alive but he is hurt very, very bad. Dr. Arden is doing his very best to save him,” I tried to console her without lying.
“Dr. Arden is a very good doctor and Pa’s friend,” Joy said, reassured.
Frank stood up and offered his hand to Joy. “Come on, I’ll walk you to my house. My wife is probably wondering where I am.”
Giggling, Joy planted a kiss on my cheek and took Frank’s hand. And I prayed that Aiden would indeed save the Kid.
HEYES
As spacious as the railcar is, it seems tight. Dennis has become my shadow, even venturing into the bright light of my bedroom. I have to admit, helping him and working with him on his sign language and written letters has helped me focus. As he becomes less afraid, his personality has come through a little.
I am still panicking about the Kid, but the only manifestations of it are my pacing and inability to sleep for more than a few hours. When we were trying for amnesty, sleep often evaded me. I was jealous that the Kid could fall asleep so quickly and sleep anywhere. There was no real sleep in prison or the dark call there, but once I married Angie, I slept deeply in her arms. I miss her. She wasn’t feeling well when I left. She told me she was going to see Dr. Aiden while I was gone. I hope it was only a passing cold.
I realize that Dr. Oliver has very slowly made the main room of the train car brighter. In return, I have kept the lamp near the water closet of my room dim. There must be a dining car in our train because one of the doctors leaves and comes back with food.
“Dr. Oliver?” I asked this morning. “May I go with you to get our breakfast?”
Looking in my eyes for a moment, he nodded. “Of course, Heyes. I’d enjoy the company.”
It was nice to get out of our railcar, no matter how luxurious it was. “How are you doing?” he asked me.
“I’m well. Still worry about the Kid and my family, but I realize we are getting there as fast as we can. Thank you for that.” I’d been meaning to thank him and this seemed the ideal time. There were only three passengers in the car we had to walk through to get to the dining car. It was deserted except for the servers. Dr. Nigel had called it a special express train. His Miss Rose must have a lot of money or pull or both to have arranged this so quickly. “And thanks for adding light to the main room of our car.”
“Oh, you noticed that? Father and I were trying to do it gradually throughout the day so Denny wouldn’t notice,” he answered with a slight grin.
“I know there have been few stops. Are there any more telegrams?” I asked.
“Let’s sit down while they get our breakfast ready,” Dr. Oliver said, pointing to a nearby table.
My heart skipped a beat with worry as I did as he asked. I took a sip of the filled water glass already on the table. He sat across from me.
“There was a telegram from your friend Sheriff Trevors at our brief stop in Chicago last night. Aiden must have given him our schedule. I wasn’t going to share it with you until I assessed how you were doing mentally.” Dr. Oliver leaned across the table towards me as he talked.
I tried hard to hide my anger that news had come and he hadn’t told me. “News?” was all I said.
“Yes, the other gunman died,” he started.
“Dealing with that will be hard for the Kid,” I said. I knew he had more to say but he hesitated.
“I think you’ve helped him through similar situations before. The main news was that Aiden has decided that he can’t wait any longer to operate and remove the second bullet.” Dr. Oliver was holding my gaze with his eyes.
“The Kid still has a bullet in him? Why didn’t the doctor take it out right away? It’s been over two days!” I fought hard to keep control. If Dr. Aiden had waited to take the bullet out, the Kid must be bad off…or the bullet was in a hard-to-reach place. I reassured myself that he was an excellent doctor, the best I’ve ever seen.
Reaching across the table to put a hand on my arm, Dr. Oliver said, “Aiden was waiting until Jed’s vitals were more stable. He lost a lot of blood and his heartbeat was low and irregular. This is a very delicate operation. He was searching all those medical books and journals he collects for information. I doubt if Aiden has ever done one like this before. I wish we were there to help him.”
I leaned back in my chair and tried to control the dread trying to engulf me. Concentrating on my breathing helped. “We’re over halfway there,” I told myself while asking Dr. Oliver, “Is there any way to help him?” I knew there was nothing we could do from here, but I had to ask.
“Are you a religious man, Heyes? I have a strong belief in prayers,” Dr. Oliver finished as the server brought two covered trays to our table.
“Would you like me to help carry the trays to your railcar?” the man asked.
“No, no, thank you but we’re fine,” Dr. Oliver answered, picking up one of the trays. I picked up the other and followed him out of the dining car.
When me and the Kid lost our parents, I stopped believing in God. We’d been trying to go straight and earn amnesty for three rough years and he still let us fail. When we were sent to separate prisons with twenty-year sentences, I knew he couldn’t exist. But then a ray of hope that God did exist filled me when we got out of prison and settled at Phoenix. And then I found Angie. Her faith is strong. And I prayed, really prayed when the Kid was so depressed that he tried to kill himself…and it seems my prayers were answered. I’m still not a religious man, but I am a spiritual one and I do believe in God now. Father Patrick had taught our family simple prayers and I said them now to myself.
My prayers were interrupted when we walked into our railcar and Dr. Nigel met us at the door. The lights were dimmed again. “It’s Denny. He thinks Heyes has left him. I can’t get him to come out.”
LOM
When I went back, William Knight had moved everyone out of Dr. Aiden’s waiting room except for Chrissy, Angie, and Maday. Before I could talk, Maday put his finger to his lips and whispered, “Dr. Arden needs quiet to operate.”
I looked upstairs knowing his son and Dr. Arden’s Rachel had stayed up there with Miss Daisy. Maday shook his head. “Even the little ones are at Miss Beverly’s house.”
Chrissy was rocking gently and mouthing the words to Black Beauty. We all watched the entrance to the hall that led to the room where the doctor was operating. There was nothing to do now but wait.