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[December 2020]   

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Word Count: 2876

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Chapters: 1

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A VERY QUIET CHRISTMAS

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by

Eleanor Ward

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Heyes and Curry's Christmas plans don't turn out quite like they'd hoped

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“Aint it just our luck!” Kid Curry said, breathlessly, as he manoeuvred his horse around an outcrop of rock and pushed it on up the steep incline.

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“What?” Heyes’ voice came back irritably from behind him.

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“Two days to Christmas and we have to get chased by a posse!”

 

They’d been minding their own business in Buford, midway between Cheyenne, where they’d spent the last couple of days gambling to boost their flagging finances, and Porterville, where they were headed with the intention of visiting Lom. Their visit had been cut short, however, when the Sheriff in Buford had recognized them.  Leaving town in a hurry, the Sheriff had organized a posse to track them.

 

They were now up in the high country around fifteen miles North West of Buford and the posse were still pursuing them.

 

“It could be worse.” said Heyes, as he too turned his horse around the outcrop of rock Curry had just negotiated.

 

“How do you figure that?” Curry replied, nonplussed.

 

“Today could be Christmas.”

 

Curry merely grunted.

 

“We’ve still got time to lose this posse and make it to Porterville by Christmas Day.” said Heyes, hopefully.

 

“Maybe.”  Curry said doubtfully.

 

They pushed their horses onwards, as fast as they could go.  They were quite high up now and had a clear view of the forested landscape below**  Ordinarily they would have stopped and taken in the beauty of the scenery, but the only thoughts on their minds right now were on getting away from the men chasing them.

 

“You know, Heyes, just for once, it would be nice to have a quiet Christmas.” growled Curry,  “A nice play to stay, miles away from anyone trying to catch us, with a big log fire, a huge turkey dinner, and a nice brandy and cigar afterwards.” He sighed, picturing it in his head.

 

“That would be a very quiet Christmas.” said Heyes, “Not sure I’d want it to be that quiet.”

 

Curry nodded to himself.  Heyes’ gregarious character would no doubt be more suited to Christmases like the ones they’d had back at the Hole, drinking and gambling and raucous socializing with the rest of the gang. 

 

They had reached the peak of the range of hills now and the landscape was starting to even out a little, giving them a chance to pick up speed.

 

Suddenly, a shot rang out.  Heyes’ horse stumbled and then collapsed, throwing him over its head to land heavily on the hard ground.

 

“Heyes!”  Curry wheeled his horse around and hurriedly dismounted, running across to his friend’s side.

 

Momentarily dazed by the fall, Heyes was attempting to sit up as Curry reached him, putting a restraining hand on his shoulder.

 

“Are you alright?” he asked, with concern, noting a cut just over his right eyebrow from which blood was beginning to trickle.

 

“I - I think so...” Heyes said, groggily, holding a hand to his head.

 

“We need to get out of here, they can’t be far away.” said Curry, scanning the area for a sign of where the shot had come from. It was fortunate that they were in between a couple of large rocks that were shielding them, for the moment, from further shots. 

 

They both looked at Heyes’ horse, which lay dead a few feet away.

 

“You’ll have to ride with me.  Come on.”

 

Heyes attempted to get up but then sank down again with a yelp of pain.

 

“What is it?”

 

“My leg… I think it’s broken…”

 

Curry quickly knelt to examine his right leg, a frown creasing his brow.

 

“You’re right.  Looks like it’s fractured about here.” he said, pressing a spot midway between his knee and ankle, making Heyes flinch and suck in his breath.

 

“Let me help you.” Curry aided him to his feet and then, pulling Heyes’ arm over his shoulder and wrapping his own arm around his waist, he supported him as he hopped across to Curry’s horse.   With an effort Curry boosted him up onto the animal, and then hurriedly retrieved Heyes’ belongings from his horse and secured them with his own before climbing up behind him and heading off as quickly as the horse could traverse the rocky ground.

 

Another shot rang out but bounced off some rocks a few yards away.

 

Curry tried to pick up speed as they weaved in and out between large rocks and boulders, while Heyes hung grimly on, trying to keep his balance while at the same time keeping his injured leg away from the horse’s side.  More shots were fired but none reached their target.

 

Presently, they came upon a creek and Curry quickly turned the horse into it, hoping it would cover their tracks and allow them to get out further upstream and lose the posse.

 

Luckily, the banks of the creek were thickly forested which would help prevent the posse spotting them.

 

“Are you O.K?” Curry shouted to Heyes, as the horse cantered through the bed of the creek.

 

“Yeah.” Heyes called back, but Curry could tell from the tone of his voice that he was in considerable pain.

 

Curry looked at the sky.  It would be dark in three or four hours and he had no idea where this creek was taking them.  Even if they managed to lose the posse, by his best guess the nearest town from where they were was Laramie, probably a good twenty five miles to the west, too far to reach before nightfall and Curry wasn’t keen on travelling through this unfamiliar landscape after dark, which would mean camping out, not ideal given Heyes’ injury.

 

They rode through the creek for over an hour before getting out at a spot where the bank was grassy and would leave little in the way of tracks.  Curry dismounted and swept the bank with a tree branch to cover up the few tracks the horse’s hooves had left and then remounted and turned westwards.

 

Conversation between them was sparse. Heyes, shaken and bruised from the fall from his horse and in pain from his injured leg, wasn’t in the mood for idle chit-chat and Curry was focused on the trail, trying to keep to the smoothest path, not only to save Heyes from being shaken around but also to try and protect the horse.  They couldn’t afford for it to be injured by something or become lame and leave them stranded out here in the middle of nowhere.

 

The sun was just beginning to dip towards the horizon when Curry’s eye was suddenly taken by something.

 

Turning, he spotted an old cabin a couple of hundred yards away amongst the trees.

 

“Hey, look, Heyes. An old cabin.”

 

Heyes, who had been on the verge of sleep, roused himself and turned to look.

 

“Looks like a good place to spend the night.” he said.

 

Curry turned the horse in the direction of the cabin and approached cautiously.  It was unlikely they would find anyone here, in the middle of nowhere, but you could never be sure.

 

He brought the horse to a halt and dismounted, drawing his gun and going up to the door, rapping on it loudly.

 

On receiving no response, he opened the door and walked inside. 

 

It was just one room with an old wood cook stove in one corner, a sink and a cot.  Curry couldn’t imagine who had erected the cabin way out here, or for what purpose, but he was thankful they had.

 

Holstering his gun he went back outside.

 

“This’ll do just fine.” he said.

 

He crossed to help Heyes down from the horse and supported him while he hopped inside the cabin.

 

“Here, take this cot.” said Curry, helping him down onto it, “I’ll get some wood to light the stove and then I’ll see if I can make a splint for your leg.”

 

“Thanks.” Heyes said, gratefully.

 

Within a short time Curry had the stove going and had located some stout branches and made a secure splint on Heyes’ leg which would protect it until they could get to a doctor.

 

“Does it hurt much?” he asked, as he finished the task.

 

“Some.” Heyes acknowledged. Curry knew it was an understatement.  He’d broken bones before and knew how painful it was.

 

Curry then poured some water from his canteen onto his bandana and carefully bathed the cut on Heyes’ forehead, around which a large bruise was already forming.

 

“Owww.” protested Heyes.

 

“Sorry.” said Curry, as he finished treating the cut. Then, crossing to his saddlebags he fished out a half full bottle of whisky, pouring a measure into a cup and handing it to him,  “Here, drink this.”

 

“Thanks.” Heyes took the cup and downed the whisky.

 

“Get some rest.” Curry told him, taking the cup from him.

 

He went outside, into the fast fading light, to tether his horse to a nearby tree and unsaddle it, before carrying the remainder of his and Heyes’ belongings inside and depositing them on the floor.  It was dark in the cabin now but, having left the door of the stove open, the burning wood gave the room an ambient glow as well as spreading warmth. 

 

Closing the cabin door he turned towards Heyes only to see him sound asleep.

 

He stoked up the stove, to keep it going through the night, and then laid out his bedroll on the floor in front of the door of the cabin so that if anyone should try to enter during the night his body would prevent it opening and, the movement would alert him.

 

This done, he settled down to sleep.

 

He woke at sunrise and stoked up the stove.  Heyes did not stir.

 

Worried, Curry bent over him to listen to his breathing.  Heyes usually slept like a cat, alert to any noise or movement, and he was concerned that perhaps he had sustained some injury, in the fall from his horse, that hadn’t manifested itself at the time. But, his breathing was even and, placing the back of his hand gently to his forehead, he felt no sign of a fever. 

 

Leaving him to sleep he went off to try and find them some food.

 

When he returned two hours later, Heyes was awake.

 

“Where’ve you been?” he asked anxiously.

 

Curry held up two dead rabbits, “Finding us some food.” he smiled.

 

“Oh.”  On waking up and finding the cabin empty Heyes had been concerned that something had happened to him and had been slightly panicked at the thought of being stranded here alone, with his injured leg.

 

“How’re you feeling?” Curry enquired.

 

“My head feels a bit woozy and I’m stiff.”

 

Curry nodded.  That wasn’t surprising after his fall the previous day,  “How’s the leg?”

 

“It’s better with the splint on,” he said, “but still painful.”

 

“I don’t guess you’re gonna be up to travellin’ today?” Curry gave him a questioning look.

 

Heyes sighed, “I’d rather not, Kid, unless you think it’s really necessary.” he said presently.  In truth, his leg hurt like the devil, he felt nauseous and light headed, and just wanted to sleep, but if his partner felt they were in any danger and needed to leave, he would do so.

 

The relief on his face was obvious when Curry said, “I think we should be OK here for now.  Looks like we lost the posse, I caught these rabbits and we’ve got some beans, so we won’t go hungry, and there’s a little stream about a quarter of a mile away so we can fill our canteens and there’s plenty of wood around to keep the stove going.”

 

“Thanks.” Heyes said, gratefully.

 

Curry smiled,  “You rest.  I’ll get to work on one of these rabbits.”

 

“O.K.”

 

Curry set to work on skinning and preparing one of the rabbits ready for them to eat that evening.  When he’d finished he took his and Heyes’ canteens and headed off to the small stream to refill them and on his way back picked some berries that they could have for their ‘dessert’.

 

When he arrived back at the cabin Heyes was once again asleep, so he went back outside and found a nice grassy spot a short distance from the cabin and lay down to enjoy the afternoon sun. It was fortunate that winter had been mild so far this year and there was, as yet, no snow.  It was chilly but, wearing his sheepskin coat and surrounded by trees that kept the wind at bay, it was quite pleasant.  After the lengthy chase from Buford, the previous day, it was especially pleasant to just lie back and enjoy the peace and tranquility of their surroundings.  Folding his arms behind his head, he stared up at the crisp blue sky and indulged himself in a dream of life after amnesty, living in a little house somewhere nice and quiet, maybe with a wife and children, settled and not having to be constantly on the run.

 

As the sun began to dip towards the treetops he got up and went back into the cabin to begin preparing their rabbit dinner.

 

Hearing him moving about, Heyes woke up and looked about him in confusion, forgetting, for a moment, where they were and how they’d come to be here.

 

“How’re you feeling?” asked Curry, as Heyes raked his hands through his hair and yawned.

 

“O.K.”

 

“Dinner’ll be ready soon.”

 

“Thanks, Kid.”

 

A little while later, as they ate the rabbit and beans, Curry said,  “I bet Lom’ll be wondering what happened to us.”

 

Heyes nodded,  “He’ll probably think we’re in some kind of trouble.”

 

“Well, we were.”

 

“Yes, but not any more.” smiled Heyes, “Hopefully we’ll be able to get to his place before he starts thinking the worst.”

 

“Worst as in we’ve gone back to outlawin’, or worst as in we’re dead?”

 

Heyes grinned.  “Probably both.”

 

*    *    *

 

 

Curry woke first the next morning.  He stoked up the stove and then headed out to refill their canteens in the stream.

 

When he returned, Heyes was awake.

 

“Hey, how are you feeling today?” Curry smiled at him.

 

Heyes smiled back.  He looked a little brighter today, Curry noted, the pallor of the previous day having faded, and he seemed more alert and engaged.

 

“I feel a lot better today.”

 

“Good.  Maybe tomorrow you’ll feel up to travellin’ and we can get you to a doctor to get your leg looked at.”

 

“Sure.” said Heyes.  He eyed Curry for a moment, waiting to see if he’d remembered what day it was.  When he said nothing further, Heyes said,  “Merry Christmas, Kid.”

 

Curry looked at him wide eyed.

 

“Oh.  I’d forgotten.” he said sheepishly. His worries about escaping the posse and finding them some shelter, and his concern for Heyes being injured had temporarily put everything else out of his mind.

 

Heyes grinned at him.

 

“Merry Christmas, Heyes.” Curry smiled before his expression clouded,  “Guess it’ll just be rabbit and beans for Christmas dinner though, rather than turkey.”

 

“Sounds good to me.” said Heyes.

 

Curry set about skinning and preparing the second rabbit and later that afternoon they ate their rabbit and bean dinner, followed by berries for dessert, talking over old times, and their years with the Devil’s Hole Gang, and laughing uproariously as they recalled some of their many escapades.

 

Later, as they shared a cup of whisky each, Heyes said,  “I’m sorry I didn’t get chance to get you a gift, Kid, what with having to leave Buford so quickly.”

 

“I didn’t get chance to get you one either,” said Curry.

 

“No matter,” said Heyes,  “We’re both still alive, and safe.  That’s better than any Christmas gift.” 

 

Their eyes met and held, an unspoken conversation passing between them. Life had been tough since they’d decided to try for amnesty, being constantly hunted, and broke and hungry a lot of the time, but, as long as they had each other, they would get through it.

 

Curry smiled, breaking the look,  “Yeah, but it would have been good if we’d made it to Lom’s like we planned.  I know I said I’d like to have a nice, quiet Christmas but…” he grinned,  “Should be careful what you wish for, huh?”

 

“Yeah, it is a very quiet Christmas,” Heyes nodded, taking a sip of his drink, “…but, it’s been great.”

 

He looked at Curry who met his eyes with a curious look, not having expected such a sentiment from Heyes, whose penchant was for more social events, but his eyes conveyed the sincerity of his comment.  They might be stuck in an old cabin in the middle of nowhere but they were safe and warm, with full bellies - even if it wasn’t with turkey – and, more importantly, they were together, and that was worth more to Heyes than any amount of carousing with the boys - not that he was going to openly admit that to his friend of course.  Simple pleasures.  And, hopefully, in the coming year they would be free men once again.

 

“Merry Christmas, Kid.” he said softly.

 

Curry grinned,  “Merry Christmas… and a Happy New Year – I hope!”

 

“I’ll drink to that!” grinned Heyes, holding out his cup to Curry, who lifted his own and they clinked them together before downing the drink.

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--oo00oo--

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**See location in photo at top right.

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With acknowledgement to BeeJay's  'Alias Smith & Jones Writers' forum who provided the theme for this story topic.

If you would like to read/participate in their monthly writing challenge visit:  asjfanfic .forumotion.com

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