Full Circle

 

- 2 -

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​

Bright sunshine bursting in through the bedroom window roused Heyes, the next morning, as it played across his face. Tentatively he opened his eyes and then hastily closed them again, against the glare, groaning at the dull thudding
in his head. He lay there for several moments before opening them once more, squinting as the sunlight stabbed his pupils like red hot pokers.  He turned onto his side, putting his back to the window, and as he did so nausea welled up in him.  Hastily, he leaned over and reached under the bed for the chamber pot, grabbing it just in time before throwing up into it.

He lay back down with a groan and curled up into a foetal position, feeling like death warmed over, his gaze automatically scanning around for Curry but finding the room empty. Twisting round to look at the other bed, a sudden panic rose up in him when he saw it neatly made, to all intents and purposes not having been slept in.

Nausea welled up in him a second time and he grabbed for the chamber pot once more before lying back down, beads of perspiration standing out on his forehead. He couldn't recall much of the previous night's events, or much of what he’d said to Curry, but he did recall his stunned expression as he’d stood there listening to his tirade and knew that he must have said some pretty hurtful things, and he was gripped by the fear that he’d maybe gone too far and Curry had decided to clear out.

 

He tried to sit up in the bed and as he did so he spotted Curry's saddlebags, and his sheepskin coat, on a chair by the door. He breathed a mental sigh of relief before his stomach rebelled against his attempt to defy gravity and sit up and he was forced to grab the chamber pot once more.

 

“Oh, God…” he groaned, slumping back down against the pillow and throwing his arm across his face, wondering what damage he may have done with his outburst the previous night.  He closed his eyes and tried to retreat back into the peacefulness of sleep to free his mind, if only temporarily, from the emotional anguish of the last thirty six hours, but every time he reached the edge of sleep he was brought awake again as his stomach continued to protest against the excesses of his previous night’s drinking.

 

He was again throwing up in the chamber pot, two hours later, when the door opened and Curry walked in.

 

Putting his hat on the dresser, he crossed to the bed and without a word took Heyes’ arm and helped him to lie back against the pillows. Moving to the dresser he poured a glass of water and then bent to help Heyes lift up enough to sip it.

 

“Thank you.” Heyes muttered, weakly, after taking a few sips, slumping gratefully back against the pillows.

 

Curry put down the glass and then, pouring some water into the basin, he wrung out a cloth and bent to wipe Heyes’ face and neck.  Heyes eyed his face, trying to get a sense of his mood, but Curry didn’t look at him as he carried out the task and then turned back to the basin to wring out the cloth which he then folded into four before turning back to Heyes and, pushing his damp hair back off his face, placed the cold cloth on his forehead.

 

“Thank you.” Heyes said again, “How much did I drink last night?” he asked, his voice hoarse from retching.

 

“Best part of a whole bottle.” Curry replied, his tone non-committal.

 

Heyes screwed up his face, ashamed at the knowledge.

 

“Kid… I’m sorry.” he began, “Whatever I said last night… it was the drink talking...”

 

“It’s alright.  I understand.” Curry said quietly, meeting his eyes briefly before turning away to pick up the chamber pot.

 

“No, it’s not.” Heyes tried again “I—“

 

“Rest.” Curry cut off the rest of his sentence as he turned away and left the room to empty out the chamber pot.

 

Heyes sighed, wishing he could remember all that he’d said the previous night so that he could get an idea of how to try and counteract the effects of it.

 

Curry returned a few moments later, having cleaned out the chamber pot which he placed by the side of the bed.

 

“Kid…” Heyes began again to try and make an apology, but Curry once again cut him off.

 

“Try to keep sipping the water, you’re dehydrated.” he said, bending to raise Heyes’ head off the pillow and holding the glass to his lips, “It might make you sick but you need to keep drinking it.”

 

Heyes took a few sips before pushing his hand away.  Curry lay him back against the pillow and put the glass back on the cupboard at the side of the bed before moving to sit in an armchair near the door where he took out his gun and proceeded to begin cleaning it.

 

As Curry had predicted, five minutes later Heyes grabbed for the chamber pot as the water he’d just drunk hit his stomach and came back up again.  As he lay back against the pillows Curry got up and crossed to the bed to pick up the cloth, which had fallen off Heyes’ forehead, wrung it out again and replaced it back on his forehead before returning to the task of cleaning his gun.

 

It was obvious to Heyes that Curry was upset by whatever he’d said the previous night and he wanted to try and talk to him about it.  But he felt too ill, right now, to indulge in any more emotional arguments, so he closed his eyes and tried to sleep, vowing to himself never to drink that much ever again, especially on an empty stomach.

 

Curry looked after him for most of the day, making Heyes feel guiltier and guiltier about his outburst the previous night.  He would have felt better if he had yelled at him, but he said nothing at all which made Heyes feel even worse.  He was desperate to know whether he had asked Veronica to marry him, and whether or not she had agreed, but he was too ashamed to even dare to try and broach the subject.

 

Eventually, he stopped throwing up and, exhausted by his emotional wranglings and the effects of his hangover, finally fell into a restless sleep punctuated with nightmares that caused him to cry out and roused him in a state of panic.

 

He half woke from one dream and was vaguely aware that Curry wasn’t in the room, but he must have fallen asleep again because the next time he woke he was there again.

 

“Where did you go?”  Heyes asked weakly.

 

“Just for something to eat. ”Curry replied, “Drink this.” he told him, lifting his head to press a cup to his lips.

 

Heyes took a sip, “What’s this?” he muttered, frowning at the slightly bitter taste of the liquid.

 

“Something to settle your stomach.”

 

Heyes took a few more sips and then lay back against the pillows.  A few moments later his eyes closed, lulled by the sleeping draught that Curry had fetched for him.

 

Curry watched him until he was sure he was comfortably asleep and then, putting on his hat, left the room, locking the door behind him.

 

*     *     *

 

When Heyes woke it was just past dawn and Curry was asleep in the adjacent bed. He felt better, and more refreshed and, now that his mind was clearer, he realised what it was that Curry had given him to drink the previous night.  At first he was irritated that he had done it without asking him, but then realised that he had probably done it for his own good.

 

He lay there for a time, not wanting to get up and disturb Curry, but, presently, he had to get up and use the chamber pot and, now that he’d got up, he poured himself a glass of water, crossing to the window, as he sipped it, to look out over the street, watching the early morning shadows shorten as the sun rose above the horizon.

 

“What time is it?” Curry, woken by Heyes moving around, opened one eye to see what he was doing and then closed it again.

 

“Around six thirty, I’d guess.” replied Heyes.

 

Curry rolled onto his back and stretched.

 

“Sorry if I woke you.  Go back to sleep.” said Heyes.

 

Curry yawned and threw back the bedcovers,  “Might as well get up now.” he said. Once Heyes was up and around there was little chance of sleep.

 

He climbed out of bed and crossed to the dresser to pour water to wash.

 

“How do you feel?” he asked, his tone still somewhat aloof.

 

“Not so bad.” said Heyes, “Did you give me a sleeping draught?” he asked presently.

 

“Uh-huh.” Curry nodded as he lathered up and began to stroke his razor across his face, “Thought the rest would do you good.”

 

Heyes nodded, taking another sip of the water.  He eyed Curry as he shaved, waiting to see if he would say anything about Veronica. He’d said nothing about her yesterday and Heyes wasn’t sure if it was because he didn’t want to upset him any more than necessary, or because he just didn’t think it was any of his business.

 

“Think you can face breakfast this morning?” Curry's voice broke into his thoughts.

 

“Dunno.”

 

“You need to eat something, Heyes.  You’ve had nothing to eat in nearly forty eight hours, and you’ve been sick.”

 

“I’m not hungry.” said Heyes.

 

“I know, but you need to eat all the same.” Curry told him.

 

“I don’t feel up to going to the restaurant, I need a bath and a shave first. Maybe you can bring me something back with you?” Heyes reluctantly suggested.

 

Curry rinsed his face and patted it dry,  “O.K.  I’ll order up a bath for you on my way out and I’ll bring you something back.”

 

“O.K.”

 

Curry finished dressing and headed over to the restaurant after first stopping off at the front desk to order a bath.

 

The hotel already had water on heat and so it didn’t take long for them to organise the bath, bringing a large tub up to the room and then filling it with hot water.

 

After the staff had left, Heyes stripped off and climbed into the tub.  The warm, soapy water felt good and he ducked down under it, soaking his hair, before sitting back up and reclining against the back of the tub, letting the water sooth his body at least, his mind still occupied with the dilemma of Curry's intention to marry Veronica.

 

Presently, knowing he would be back before too long, he picked up the soap and began to wash himself.

 

When Curry arrived back Heyes was out of the tub, shaved and dressed, his still damp hair neatly combed.  He looked almost like his usual self except for the pinched look to his cheeks and the anguished look in his eyes, but he pasted on a smile as Curry entered the room with a plate covered over with a cloth.

 

“I don’t think I can….” he said, his stomach lurching as Curry uncovered a plate of bacon, eggs and biscuits.

 

“Eat.” ordered Curry, putting the plate on a small table by the window and propelling Heyes over to sit at it.

 

Heyes reluctantly began to eat, managing about half of the food before pushing the plate aside.

 

“O.K, I’ve eaten.” he said, turning to look at his friend, who had moved to sit in the armchair by the door, “Happy now?”

 

A faint smile touched the corners of Curry's mouth, but didn’t quite reach his eyes, which were troubled.

 

Seeing his expression, Heyes said, “Kid, I don’t remember much of what I said last night, but whatever I said, I didn’t mean it. “

 

Curry raised an eyebrow, “You threatened to kill me.” he told him, “Sounded pretty convincing to me.”

 

Heyes’ mouth formed an O,  “I’m sorry.” he said presently.

 

Curry nodded, thoughtfully.  Presently he said, “I know what she meant – means -  to you, Heyes, and I’m sorry for all the hurt this is causing you.  I never meant for any of this to happen. It’s hurting me too, because I don’t want to hurt either of you.”

 

“Did you ask her to marry you?” Heyes asked now, his voice hoarse as he struggled to contain his emotions.

 

“Yes.”

 

“And…?” Heyes breathed the word.

 

Curry thought for a moment, “I thought about telling her who I really am…” he said presently,  “I guess what you said about denying Jack - that’s his name - his true identity played on my mind… I kinda want him to know the real me…” he sighed. “But I decided you were right, and that it wasn’t a wise move, so I chose not to.”

 

“I see.” said Heyes, “…And what did she say?”

 

“She said yes, in principle.”

 

Heyes’ chest contracted.  He’d nursed a small hope, in the deepest corner of his heart, that maybe she would turn him down. But he held on to his composure somehow as he said, “It won’t be a legal marriage if you marry as Thaddeus Jones.  You may as well just live in sin with her.”

 

“Only you and I know that. As long as everyone else believes it, that’s all that matters.”

 

“Only you and I?” Heyes scoffed,  “…and Lom, and Wheat and the boys, Big Mac, Silky, Soapy, Clem… they all know who you really are, along with dozens of  lawmen and bounty hunters and goodness knows how many others. How do you think you’re gonna pull it off, Kid?  And what if someone recognizes you and you get arrested?  How’re you gonna explain that to a child who thinks his Pa is a law abidin’ citizen?”  He shook his head, “And what about what you’re denyin’ yourself, Kid? Your family line.  We’re the last of our families.  If he grows up believin’ his name is Jones, he’ll never truly be your son. His kids will all be Jones’ and your family name will be gone forever. D’ya think your folks would be happy with that?  All of those generations that have come down through time for the family name to be wiped out because you told a lie. It’s not right, Kid.”

 

“Maybe not, Heyes, but it’s what I’m going to do.  I want to be part of Jack’s life.  I want him to know his daddy, and the only chance I have of doing that is as Thaddeus Jones.”

 

“And what if the governor grants our amnesty? Then what?”

 

Curry sighed, “I don’t know, Heyes.  I guess I’ll have to cross that bridge if and when I get to it.  There’s no sign of the governor giving it to us yet awhile and I can’t wait around on the off-chance that he might suddenly change his mind.”

 

Heyes shook his head.  He thought Curry was wrong, but he could tell by his expression that to keep trying to change his mind was just a waste of breath. But he was so choked at the thought of them being together he could barely breathe.

 

“If that’s what you want.” he managed finally, his gaze fixed on the floor.

 

Curry eyed him, anxiously.  Heyes was doing his best to appear reconciled but he could tell that it was taking every ounce of his self control.

 

Presently, he said, “I told you she said yes in principle. She’ll only do it as long as you’re O.K. with it.”

 

Heyes looked up to meet his gaze.  They both knew he wasn’t O.K. with it, but what could he say?  He’d walked away from her, given Curry his blessing to see her.  What right did he have to bleat about it now?”

 

He gave a deep sigh, weighing his words.

 

“If you’ve thought it through, and you’re sure this is what you want to do… then I won’t stand in your way…”

​

Curry looked relieved.

 

“…But don’t expect me to be there.”  Heyes finished.

 

Curry's head snapped up, “What?”

 

“I won’t stand in your way, and I’ll keep your secret, but don’t expect me to stay around and watch.”

 

“Heyes…”

 

“I can’t do it, Kid.” Heyes shook his head, his eyes pleading with him to understand.

 

“You’re gonna break up our partnership?” Curry sounded like he could scarcely believe it.

 

“No. You are. The last thing I want is for us to go our separate ways, but, three’s a crowd, Kid. You can’t be with her and me at the same time.”

 

A flash of anger lit in  Curry's eyes,  “Are you trying to blackmail me into giving her up?”

 

Heyes shook his head,  “I might have tried that, if I thought it would work. But I can see your mind is made up and I respect your decision.  Now you’ve got to respect mine. There’s nothing I’d like more than to see you married, raising a family, and to be a part of it.  But… I can’t, Kid…  I’m sorry. Please understand.”  With that, he stood up and picked up his hat.

 

“I need some air.” he croaked, turning and striding out of the room, feeling Curry's eyes boring into his back as he did so.  Closing the door he strode down the corridor, making it as far as the top of the staircase before his step faltered and he slowed to a halt, one hand on the newel post, the other covering his face as he fought to control his emotions.  After a moment he sucked in a deep breath and, squaring his shoulders, headed down the stairs.

 

Inside the room, Curry stared at the door, trying to comprehend the implications of what Heyes had just said, before dropping his face into his hands and shaking his head.

 

*     *     *

 

A knock at the door made Veronica jump. She’d been on edge ever since Thaddeus had come to see her, two days earlier. He’d asked her to marry him, and had promised to take responsibility for her and Jack, and provide for them. At first she had been reluctant, but raising a child on her own wasn’t easy and it hadn’t taken long for Thaddeus to persuade her that marrying him was the best thing to do. He was the child’s father after all, and the thought of having a man in her life again, to care for her and share the responsibility of raising their son, was too tempting to resist.  He had stayed to play with Jack for a while, and had returned twice, yesterday, to see him, and she had been touched by the instant bond he had struck up with him and had no doubt that he would be a wonderful father. The only fly in the ointment was Joshua.  Seeing him the other day in the store had set her heart soaring. She cared for Thaddeus and, had she never met Joshua, would have been content with him. But she had met Joshua, and that spark had still been there when they’d looked at each other in the store and, while she knew that there was no chance of a reconciliation between them, she knew he was always going to have a special place in her heart and, as such, she was concerned about him being hurt by herself and Thaddeus getting married, and also about what effect it would have, long term, on his and Thaddeus’ friendship and so had told him that she would only marry him if Joshua gave his approval.

 

Jumping up from the table, where she was just eating breakfast, she headed down the hall to open the door, surprised to see Thaddeus standing there at this hour of the morning.

 

“My, you’re an early bird.” she smiled,  “It’s barely past nine o’clock!”

 

She ushered him into the parlour, studying his face anxiously as he put his hat on a cupboard underneath the window and turned to face her.

 

“I was just having breakfast. Can I fix you something? she enquired.

 

Curry shook his head,  “I’ve already eaten, thanks. Where’s Jack?” he asked, glancing around the room.

 

“He’s not awake yet.” Veronica replied

 

Curry nodded, thoughtfully.

 

“Did you talk to Joshua, about us getting married?” Veronica asked presently.

 

“Yes.”

 

“What did he say?”

 

“He said… if it’s what we both want, he won’t stand in our way.”

 

“Well, that’s good.” smiled Veronica.

 

Curry nodded, returning her smile.

 

Veronica eyed him, noting that his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes and his mood seemed subdued.

 

“Is something wrong?” she asked presently.

 

“Wrong?” Curry repeated, trying to look unconcerned.

 

Veronica shrugged,  “It’s just that you seem a little anxious. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

 

Curry sighed and moved to sit down on the sofa.

 

“He won't stand in the way of us getting married, but he’s pretty upset.” he said, reluctant to reveal the truth of the situation but needing to talk to someone.

 

“That’s fairly understandable. It must have been a shock for him to find out about Jack.”

 

Curry nodded.

 

“If we get married, he’s leaving.” he told her.

 

“Leaving?” Veronica’s eyes widened in surprise. With what she’d learned in El Paso about their friendship, she didn’t think anything would ever come between them enough to split them up.

 

“It’s understandable I guess.” said Curry, “He doesn’t want to hang around watching us playing happy families.  In his shoes I’d probably feel the same, but…” he lifted his shoulders in a helpless shrug.

 

Veronica crossed to sit by him.

 

“I can see how that would be upsetting for him.” she said quietly,  Then, looking at Curry she said, “Does this change things?”

 

“You mean do I want to call off the wedding?” he asked.

 

Veronica nodded.

 

Curry gave a deep sigh, his expression anguished.

 

“Jack’s my son.” he said presently,  “Having a child is something I take seriously.  I lost my family when I was seven years old and it’s the hardest thing in the world.  No child should have to grow up without its parents.  I want to be a part of Jack’s life.  I want him to have a family… his Mother and his Father.  But, to give him that I’m going to lose the one person who’s been like a brother to me…” he trailed off, shaking his head.

 

Veronica put a hand on his arm.

 

“I’ll understand if you can’t go through with it.” she told him.

 

Curry shook his head, “I’ve made my decision.” he told her.

 

Veronica studied his face,  “How about if I have a talk with him?” she suggested, “Perhaps I can make him reconsider.”

 

“No. I don’t think that would be wise.” he told her, knowing that Heyes wasn’t up to facing her, “He’s upset enough as it is.”

 

“I don’t want to come between you two.” Veronica told him.

 

“You’re not. This is my choice.” said Curry, “Joshua threw every argument against us getting married at me, but I told him I’ve made up my mind and he accepts that.  He might not like it, but he accepts it.”

 

“Well, if you’re sure…” Veronica said, doubtfully.

​

Curry nodded, but Veronica could see that he was distraught and she was worried. She knew from experience how deep their friendship went.  Thaddeus was an honourable man and now he’d made his decision he wouldn’t go back on it, but losing Joshua would break his heart and she didn’t want him to come to resent her, in the future, for being the cause of their break up.

 

A sound from the other room indicated that Jack had woken up.

 

“Can I?” asked Curry, nodding in the direction of the other room?

 

Veronica nodded, with a smile,  “Of course.”

 

Curry went into the bedroom and crossed to the cot, Veronica following on behind him.

 

Jack stretched and yawned and looked up at him with innocent blue eyes, so reminiscent of his Father’s.

 

“Hey, Jack…” Curry said softly, perching on the edge of an armchair at the side of the cot and gazing tenderly down at him, still scarcely able to believe that this was his child, his own flesh and blood, “How’re you doin’, sleepyhead?” he smiled.

 

“Mama?” Jack’s eyes scanned around for his Mother, who approached the cot with a smile.

 

“This is your Daddy, Jack.” she told him, placing a hand on Curry's shoulder, “He’s been away for a while, but now he’s going to take care of you.” She glanced across at Curry, who was staring at Jack, his expression a mixture of adoration and wonder.

 

Jack’s gaze turned to Curry's almost as though he understood what his Mother was saying to him.  Curry smiled at him and Jack gave a giggle and held up his arms indicating he wanted to be picked up.

 

Leaning down, he scooped him out of the cot. Jack threw his arms around his neck and lay his head on his shoulder.

 

Curry wrapped his arms around him, feeling the warmth of his tiny body and breathing in his scent, overwhelmed by feelings of love and protection that he’d never experienced before. 

 

“Yes, I’m gonna take care of you.” he whispered close to Jack’s ear, “No-one’ll hurt you as long as I’m around.”

 

Jack sat back in his arms, giggling, and proceeded to bounce his hands up and down on top of Curry's unruly curls.  Laughing, Curry proceeded to tickle him, which had Jack squirming and squealing with laughter.

 

Quietly, Veronica stepped out of the room to give them some time together.  When she returned, Curry was leaning back in the armchair with Jack curled up, asleep, against his chest, Curry's chin resting on the top of his head as he quietly hummed a lullaby to him.

 

As Veronica entered the room, he leaned forward and gently placed him back in the cot and pulled the covers over him.

 

“I love you.” he whispered, quietly enough that Veronica didn’t hear, stroking the back of his index finger down his cheek.

 

Veronica smiled, “Your certainly have the magic touch.” she told him, nodding towards Jack, “Once he wakes up he never usually goes back to sleep until his bedtime, and often not even then.”

 

Curry turned to look at Jack, sleeping peacefully in his cot, a smile touching his lips, briefly, as he remembered how his own Mother would get frustrated with him as a child because he would be running around from morning until night and then would try every way he could to avoid going to bed, before, getting to his feet, he turned to face Veronica, his expression once more becoming troubled.

 

“I guess I should get going.” he said, reluctantly.

 

With a last look at Jack, he moved towards the door.

 

“What are you going to do?” Veronica asked as they exited the room and she quietly closed the door.

 

Curry sighed, heavily, and lifted his shoulders in a defeated shrug,  “I’m going to try and talk to Joshua one more time.  I don’t want him to leave.  He’s the only family I have, and I’m worried about him going off alone. I’m not optimistic of changing his mind, but I have to try.”

 

Veronica put her hand on his arm, “I’ll be here, if you need me.” she told him.

 

Curry gave her a weak smile before opening the door.

 

“I’ll see you later.” he told her, before heading down the path, his head bowed and his shoulders hunched.

 

Veronica watched him go, anxiously biting her lip.  If Thaddeus and Joshua parted company they would both be miserable and Thaddeus would very likely come to resent her, in the future, for being the person responsible for them going their separate ways - even though he’d said the decision was purely his – and she didn’t want that to happen.  Nor did she want Joshua to lose his friend and be alone.  Thaddeus would have herself and Jack to look after and to keep his mind occupied, but who would Joshua have? She shook her head, perturbed.  She cared too much about them both to stand by and watch them destroy their friendship because of her.  There was nothing for it but to go and speak to them both together and try to reach some kind of compromise. Otherwise all of them were going to get hurt, Thaddeus, Joshua, Jack and herself.

​

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