Retribution
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- 13 -
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It was eighteen months later that Lom had to go to Cheyenne on some legal business.
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He caught the stage, arriving two days later, tired and thirsty. He checked into the hotel, took a bath and then, after a light supper, went over to the saloon for a drink.
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Cheyenne was a busy town, and the saloon was full.
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Lom made his way to the bar and ordered a drink. He downed it in one gulp and poured another. He got chatting to a couple of people standing by him, one of whom turned out to be the Deputy Sheriff. Lom was soon deep in conversation with him about the legal business he’d come on.
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He turned back some time later to fill his glass, and as he downed it, a reflection in the mirror behind the bar caught his eye. He looked again, but could no longer see it.
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Lom put down his glass and leaned forward, trying to see. Then suddenly, he spotted it. A fair haired head in the crowd. Lom had thought it was Curry, but now he wasn’t sure. He could only see part of the side of the man’s face as he chatted to one of the saloon girls, who had her arms around his neck, obscuring Lom’s view. Lom watched as he bent to kiss the girl, the kiss lasting a long time. Eventually, they parted, and the girl stood on tip toe to whisper something in his ear. He threw back his head and laughed, and Lom could see then that it was indeed him. He had his hands on the girl’s backside, pressing her towards him as she playfully nibbled his neck.
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Lom studied him. His hair was longer, his face a little more weather beaten and he was dressed in a fancy suit, different from the one he’d had before. Like most cowboys and travellers, they had one set of work clothes and one set of best, both of which would be laundered and mended until it was no longer possible to do so before a new set would be bought. Apart from having nowhere to pack them, often there was no money to buy them, guns, horse tack and whisky being the main purchases their hard earned money went on. Clothes were a long way down the list of priorities, unless they came into a sudden windfall. From the look of the quality of the blue/grey fabric of the suit, Curry was obviously doing alright in the financial stakes.
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Lom turned his eyes automatically to the card tables. If Heyes was with him, it was odds on that was where he would be, but there was no sign of him.
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Lom emptied his drink, excused himself from the people he was talking to and pushed his way through the crowd towards Curry, tapping him on the shoulder.
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“Hi.”
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Curry looked round, his mouth falling open in surprise.
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“Lom!” He stared at him for a moment, before letting go of the girl and grabbing Lom’s hand, pumping it vigorously. Lom noticed his hand felt hard. He’d obviously done a lot of physical work since they’d left. He also noticed he wasn’t wearing a gun.
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“Of all the people…” Curry was saying, “What on earth are you doing here?”
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“I could ask you the same question.” Lom replied, “I’m here on legal business.”
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Curry nodded, but offered no information in return. Friendly, but aloof. Obviously this was how they’d managed to disappear so completely, by keeping themselves to themselves, keeping their eyes open and their mouths shut.
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“What about you?” Lom decided to be direct.
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“I’ll see you later, Sally.” Curry told the girl, who pouted prettily and flounced away as he turned to face Lom, ”Just having a leisurely weekend off.” he winked knowingly at Lom.
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“I got the telegraphs you sent.” said Lom.
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“Ah.” Curry nodded, looking a little sheepish.
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“When you stopped sending them, I was worried something had happened to you.”
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“Yeah… it was a bit… difficult… up in the mountains at the claim for months at a time…” Curry began, not wanting to tell Lom about the argument with Heyes over it, “I guess I just didn’t get around to sending any. I’m sorry.”
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“That’s alright. I’m just glad you’re O.K. You’re looking well.” Lom told him, eyeing his work hardened physique.
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“I’m fine.”
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“And Heyes?” he enquired. Curry's use of the word ‘I’ and not ‘we’ hadn’t been lost on him, and he wondered whether perhaps they had parted company.
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Curry looked nervously around him, “Don’t call him that.” he said in a whispered tone.
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“Sorry. What are you calling yourselves these days?” Lom asked, but Curry wasn’t giving. After a slight hesitation, he said, “Just stick with Thaddeus and Joshua.” still remembering Heyes’ words about the government trying to get to them through Lom.
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“Alright.” said Lom, slightly hurt that he wouldn’t confide in him, but it was none of his business any more. He knew who they really were. That was enough.
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“How is he?” he asked, “Is he with you?”
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“He’s around somewhere.” Curry scanned the room, his tanned complexion and longer hair still looking strange to Lom.
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“Must be upstairs with one of the girls.” he finished, turning back to Lom.
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“Neither of you married yet then?” Lom teased.
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“Chance would be a fine thing! We’re never in town long enough. We only come down occasionally to cash in our dust and bank the money. We stay a few days, to unwind, buy supplies, then… back to work. All very dull, but…’legal and profitable’ as I’m constantly being reminded.”
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“Did I hear right?” said Lom, “Bank the money?”
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Curry laughed, “Yeah. Who’d ever have thought it, eh? Us putting money in a bank.”
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Lom nodded, smiling.
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“And did Hey—Joshua, get over his… problems?” he asked, his expression becoming serious once more.
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“Mostly. Believe it or not, he still has the odd nightmare about it. Usually when he’s drunk.” Curry grinned, “But otherwise…” he paused, his expression momentarily thoughtful, “…he’s doin’ alright.”
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“I’m glad he’s O.K.” said Lom.
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“You told him he would be.”
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“Yeah.” Lom looked thoughtful, “I miss you two you know.”
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“Yeah.” Curry agreed, his expression also becoming wistful. Then he brightened, slapping Lom on the shoulder, “Hey, let me buy you a drink.” He called the bartender and ordered a bottle, pouring two glasses.
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“Thanks.” Lom clinked Curry's glass.
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“Cheers.” Curry downed his drink, “Let’s sit over there and talk a while.” He picked up the bottle and led the way to a vacant table.
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“So, are you still going into business?” Lom asked him.
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“Eventually. We’re still saving up.” Curry poured another drink for them, “We still haven’t decided what we want to do, and it’s pretty peaceful up at the claim. We’re not in any great hurry to leave, and when we get bored, or have a fight, we come down here and… enjoy ourselves.” He smiled, “It’s not a bad life. We’ve made friends here. We avoid trouble. We don’t carry our guns here. We’re accepted.”
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Lom nodded, “It still sounded a lonely life to him, but then he wasn’t condemned for the rest of his days. He supposed they’d just tried to make the best of a bad job.
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It was almost an hour later when Curry looked up to the landing, “Here he is now.” he said, nodding in the direction.
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Lom turned, to see Heyes, on the first floor landing, locked in an embrace with one of the saloon girls, kissing her deeply. He was only half dressed, his tie in his hand, his shirt half out of his pants, the girl holding his jacket in one hand, her other arm up underneath the back of his waistcoat.
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Lom was fascinated. After a brief marriage, he and his wife had divorced several years ago, and Lom had never had the urge to remarry. He knew that Heyes and Curry liked women’s company, but he had never before had first hand experience. He watched as the girl, who obviously wanted to take him back to her room for more, tried to undress him right there on the landing, while Heyes continued kissing her while at the same time trying to hold onto his clothes.
Heyes’ penchant was for more refined women than saloon girls, but, when he finally pushed her to arms length, Lom could see she was by far the prettiest girl in the room, with a petite face and big blue eyes that looked adoringly up at him.
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Heyes was a handsome man, as was Curry, and had never had any trouble attracting women’s attention. But he was selective, unlike Curry, who loved all women as long as they were warm and friendly.
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It was obvious that this girl was a ‘regular’ for him on his visits to town, and that she was pretty taken with him. Not that she had any chance, Lom reflected. Heyes would never marry a saloon girl. In fact, he’d told Lom himself that he wouldn’t marry at all. Pity. They made a handsome couple.
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Heyes finally managed to extricate himself from the girl’s grasp, fastening his shirt and taking his jacket from her. He bent to say a few words in her ear before, with a final kiss, she disappeared back upstairs and Heyes turned, looking about the room for Curry as he put on his jacket.
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Curry raised his hand to indicate his position, smirking at Heyes’ antics. Only he knew how long it had taken him to overcome Josie’s memory and enjoy these women for what they were.
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Heyes nodded, smiling down at him. Then, becoming aware of the stranger seated opposite him, his smile faded and Lom could see his eyes narrow as he tried to work out who it was.
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He finished tucking in his shirt and began walking downstairs, stuffing his tie in his pocket and straightening his hair, which was also longer than Lom remembered.
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He pushed his way through the crowd, pausing at the bar to get a glass before working his way over to their table, standing in front of them, gazing at Lom, his expression unreadable. Lom noticed that Heyes too had invested in a new suit, dark brown with a very faint beige stripe running through it.
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“Don’t you ever get enough of her?” Lom heard Curry ask, as he leaned forward to push the bottle of whisky over to Heyes’ side of the table.
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Heyes shifted his gaze to Curry now. His swarthy complexion was darkened by the sun so that he looked more like a Mexican, and as he grinned at Curry his teeth seemed to gleam against it’s darkness, his dark eyes deep and moody. It was no wonder that the saloon girl had been reluctant to let him go, Lom noted.
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“You should talk.” he retorted, his voice husky, as it always went after several glasses of whisky.
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“Look who’s here.” Curry nodded towards Lom.
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Heyes shifted his gaze back to Lom now.
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“Nice to see you.” said Lom, extending his hand to Heyes.
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Heyes hesitated for a moment, before finally extending his hand and shaking Lom’s.
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“Hi.” he muttered, while Curry looked on, holding his breath. They had talked about Lom, months after their argument over the telegraph, and Heyes had seemed to have put most of his resentment behind him. But he wasn’t sure how he would react now, seeing him face to face once more.
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Lom held onto his hand briefly, his eyes boring into Heyes’. Did he still blame him? Or was it all forgotten now? It was difficult to tell. Heyes was good at hiding his feelings, when it suited him to.
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“How are you?” he asked now.
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“Fine.” Heyes replied non-commitally.
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Lom let go of his hand and Heyes sat down and poured a drink, downing it in one gulp and then pouring another.
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“Lom’s in town on business for a day or two.” Curry told him.
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Heyes nodded, his gaze fixed on his glass.
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“You two are having a good time I see.” Lom gave a nervous laugh.
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“We always do.” smiled Curry. He appeared unaware of the tension between Heyes and Lom, but was, in fact, acutely aware of it and was trying to diffuse the situation by behaving as though nothing was amiss, “We only come down here four or five times a year on average, so we have to make the most of it.” he grinned, “Speaking of which, if you’ll excuse me, I have a lady waiting.” He stood up, “If I don’t see you before you go, Lom, it was nice bumping in to you.” He shook Lom’s hand.
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“You too.” replied Lom.
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Curry turned to Heyes, “I’ll see you later.” he said, with a wink, and then disappeared into the crowd, obviously in search of the lovely Sally. They didn’t see him blow out his cheeks as he went. That was one situation he was glad to have escaped from. If they were going to fight, he didn’t want to have to choose sides.
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Heyes and Lom eyed each other across the table, neither sure what to say, both feeling uncomfortable and both trying not to show it.
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“You’re looking well.” Lom ventured finally.
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“You too.” Heyes countered.
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There was another uneasy silence.
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Finally, Lom said, “The Kid tells me you two have an account at the bank here?” He smiled to himself, still amused by the irony of it.
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The remark brought a mischievous glint to Heyes’ eyes also.
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“Yeah.” he drawled. Then, “I just hope no-one robs it.”
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Their eyes met and held, and then, suddenly they were laughing, and the tension between them evaporated.
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“Can you imagine, if they knew who’s money they were stealing?” Heyes raised an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling with laughter.
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Lom nodded, gazing intently at Heyes. This was a flash of the old Hannibal Heyes, before all the hurt and heartache. He’d come through it, just as Lom had always hoped and believed he would. He was wiser and more mature, but still in tact. Still the wonderful, cheeky, witty, quick-thinking, life loving person he’d always been.
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“Did you ever rob this bank?” Lom enquired.
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Heyes thought for a moment, then grinned, “I’m buggered if I can remember.”
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Lom poured another drink and downed it, gazing thoughtfully into the empty glass.
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“What are you thinking?” Heyes asked presently.
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Lom raised his eyes to his, “Just how good it is to see you back like you used to be. You haven’t changed, despite everything.”
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“Is that a compliment?” asked Heyes, taking a sip of his drink, “People have been trying to change me for years, and you prefer me how I was?” he joked.
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“Not how you were. How you are. How you’ve always been.” He paused momentarily, thinking, “Do you remember how you thought you were going crazy, and I said you’d be fine? I was right wasn’t I?”
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Heyes nodded, “I guess.” His expression clouded, “I still have bad times… usually when things are going well.” He paused to take a sip of his drink. When Lom looked puzzled at his remark, he continued, “When things are good… I get to thinking… by rights, I shouldn’t be here to enjoy them…” he broke off, gazing pensively into his glass. It was obvious that he had still not quite come to terms with killing Felton, or Josie’s murder, but he seemed to have learned to live with it. More or less.
Heyes smiled, shrugging off the mood, “But I’m O.K.” he said cheerfully, “I guess mountain air suits me.” He grinned, “Calms the nerves.”
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“Are you still bitter? About the amnesty I mean?” asked Lom.
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Heyes sighed, “I try not to think about it.” he said, although his eyes showed the bitterness that he was unwilling to admit, “I just play the hands I’m dealt.”
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“I was just as much a pawn in all of that as you were. You do know that don’t you?” Lom told him, “I did all I could.”
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Heyes nodded, “Yeah.” He sighed, swirling the whisky around in the glass, gazing thoughtfully into it. Presently he said, “I’m sorry I took it out on you. I just wanted someone to blame. You were the only one I knew.” He took a sip of the drink, “I blamed you for a long time.” He looked up at Lom presently, “I know you did your best.” he told him truthfully.
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Lon nodded. Their eyes held momentarily, then Lom smiled, “It’s all in the past now.” he said.
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Heyes nodded, “Yeah.”
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Lom changed the subject, “I was just telling the Kid, I’ve missed you two you know.”
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Heyes grunted good humouredly, “Missed us running to you every time we had a problem, more like. Well, you don’t have to worry, Lom. We’re doing fine.”
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“If you do need any help any time, you know you can come to me, don’t you? I’ll do whatever I can.”
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Heyes nodded, “Thanks, Lom. That’s very nice of you.” He stared at Lom for a moment before saying, “Want to come back to the hotel? We can talk properly there.”
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“O.K.”
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They finished their drinks and pushed their way through the crowd to get outside. They walked back to the hotel, where Heyes poured them both a drink from a bottle in their room.
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“How long have you been in town?” Lom asked.
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“Day before yesterday. And we’ll probably go back tomorrow. We usually go early evening then stop for the night halfway and finish the trip the next morning. It’s about a fourteen hour trip.”
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Lom blew out his cheeks, “Long way. No wonder you don’t come down here too often. But what if one of you gets sick, or has an accident?”
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“We’re pretty careful, and so far, we’ve been lucky. The Kid slipped and sprained his ankle a while back, but that’s all. We’ve both taken a few lessons from the doctor here about what to do in an emergency. You know, snake bites, broken bones, that sort of stuff.”
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“But, even so, in an emergency, you couldn’t hope to get down and back with help in less than a day.” said Lom.
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Heyes nodded, “Like I said, we’re careful what we do.”
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Lom frowned, not really happy with the situation, but what could he say? It was none of his business any more what they did. He couldn’t worry for them. They were old enough to do it themselves.
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The conversation turned to other things and it was late when Lom got up to leave, and Curry still hadn’t shown up.
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“Oh, he could be hours yet.” smiled Heyes, “Or he might stay over.”
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“What about you?” asked Lom.
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“I’ve had enough for one night. I’m going to turn in.” He yawned tiredly, “There’s nothing more inviting than a real bed after four months of camping up in the mountains.”
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Lom nodded, remembering times like that during their outlaw days together.
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“Well, enjoy it.” he smiled, slapping Heyes on the shoulder.
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“I plan to.”
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“Listen, I’ll be in the saloon tomorrow night. Will I see you before you leave?” asked Lom.
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“We’ll probably be there before you.” smiled Heyes.
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Lom tutted good humouredly and left.
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The next evening, when Lom went to the saloon, sure enough, Heyes was already propping up the bar.
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“You weren’t joking.” Lom said over his shoulder. It was still quite early and the saloon was less than half full.
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“Oh, Hi, Lom.” Heyes grinned at him, getting a glass and pouring Lom a drink from the half empty bottle of whisky he was using.
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“Where’s Thaddeus?” he asked, remembering not to use his real name in public.
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“The lovely Sally.” smiled Heyes.
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“Again?” Lom raised his eyes to the ceiling, “What about your… er… young lady?”
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“Dolores?” Heyes grinned, “She’s busy right now. I… er… might not have time before we leave.”
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Lom grinned, “She likes you.” he told him.
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Heyes smiled, “I know. I like her. But she can be a bit… overpowering.”
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“Yeah. I saw.”
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Heyes looked at him and they both laughed.
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Curry returned some time later, flushed but cheerful.
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Heyes poured him a drink from the bottle, which was now almost empty and Lom had only had a couple. Heyes was pretty merry, and Lom was worried about their trip back up into the mountains, and told Curry so while Heyes was out back.
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“Don’t worry.” said Curry, “We’re always smashed when we leave here. Nothing’s ever happened yet. If we were going to get robbed, it would be on the way down, when we’ve got something worth stealing.”
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“There’s always a first time.” Lom told him, “And getting robbed isn’t the only thing that could happen to you.”
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“Aw, Lom. If you thought like that you’d never do anything.” said Curry, “We take life as it comes these days. Qué será and all that. We don’t worry about what might or might not be, only what is. We don’t come down here very often, so we make the most of it when we do.”
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Lom sighed. He couldn’t argue with that. Life had been hard on them. He couldn’t begrudge them their enjoyment. But he still didn’t like it.
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“But what if one of you gets hurt, or sick, both of you even? It’s miles from anywhere up there. You should be careful.”
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“Don’t fuss, Lom.” Curry cut in, “We are careful. But a hangover isn’t going to hurt us much. Hell, it’s a ritual now. I’ll have a humdinger of a headache tomorrow, and Heyes’ll be sick until Tuesday.”
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“What do you mean?” Lom cut in.
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Curry stopped, abruptly, realizing he’d said more than he’d intended.
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“Well?” Lom prompted, frowning.
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Curry glanced at Lom and then sighed, “You remember the doctor told him he had that irritation to the stomach lining?”
Lom nodded.
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“Well, it catches up with him when we come down here living it up. He’s fine up on the claim, when our food and drink is limited, but when we come down here for three or four days, have too much of everything… food, drink, women… his system can’t handle it these days. By the time we make camp he’s usually doubled up with stomach cramps, and the first day back at the claim, he’s usually as sick as a dog.” He shrugged, “I used to worry, but now I think, what the hell, he’s a grown man. He knows what’s going to happen, but it doesn’t stop him.”
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Lom shook his head, “He should slow down or he’ll be really sick one of these days.”
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“I’ve told him. You know Heyes. Does he ever listen? We’ve had endless arguments about it. It got to be a sore point between us. In the end, he got real mad and told me to butt out and mind my own business. We don’t discuss it any more. He does as he pleases, as always.” He sighed, “Anyway, it’s only two or three times a year. If it was every week, then I’d have to do something about it.” He thought for a moment before saying, “I think it goes back to all that trouble…” he glanced knowingly at Lom, “He wants to get the most out of life, before it’s too late… and for us…” he shrugged, “…that could be any time.”
Lom nodded, a frown on his face.
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Curry slapped him on the shoulder, “Don’t worry about it, Lom. You can’t Mother us forever.”
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“Old habits die hard.”
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Curry smiled thoughtfully. It was nice to have someone who cared, really cared, about what happened to them.
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Heyes reappeared in between them, throwing an arm about each of their shoulders. He was swaying slightly on his feet and both Lom and Curry overbalanced, grabbing onto each other for support.
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They poured more drinks and exchanged several toasts, each more silly than the last. Lom could see that Heyes was already suffering from stomach cramps. Periodically he would stiffen and draw in a sharp breath. Lom glanced worriedly at Curry and could see that he kept a discreet eye on him but offered no comment, and, as Lom caught his eye, Curry shook his head, the warning glint in his eyes telling him not to say anything either, unless he wanted a mouthful back from Heyes.
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Curry was drunk too, but not so incapable that he couldn’t look after himself in the event of trouble. Heyes himself wasn’t as drunk as Lom had seen him get in the past, but he was pretty far gone and Lom wondered if he was capable of handling trouble if he had to. He sounded lucid enough, but he laughed a little too loudly, and his balance had gone.
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Dolores appeared to say her goodbyes and a lengthy kissing session ensued before she assured him she’d be waiting next time he was in town and then disappeared back upstairs, presumably to another ‘client’. Heyes watched her go with an odd expression that Lom couldn’t decipher. He glanced across at Curry who knew only too well what the look signified, that he was remembering Josie, but he merely lifted his shoulders in a shrug and made no comment.
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Another round of drinks was poured and they chatted amongst themselves and to a few of the locals that Heyes and Curry had become friends with.
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While Lom was speaking to Curry, he noticed his gaze slide off him, onto Heyes, only half listening to what he was saying. Lom turned to see what was wrong, but couldn’t see any reason for his sudden concern.
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Curry obviously knew the signs however, because, a few moments later, Heyes put his arm on the bar and bent over, resting his forehead on his forearm, his other hand clutching his stomach. Lom was reminded of the night he’d ‘faked’ the stomach ache to slip away from him and kill Felton. Heyes had told him that he hadn’t totally been faking, and Lom knew now that it was true. Heyes had looked like that then, only now, he looked worse.
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Lom took a step towards him, but Curry caught his arm to stop him. He had obviously been waiting for this. He downed the rest of his drink, putting some cash down on the bar to pay for what they’d consumed. Then, placing a hand on Heyes’ shoulder he said, “Come on, it’s time we weren’t here. We’ve got a long trip ahead of us.”
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With an effort, Heyes drew himself up and, putting on his hat, started for the door, Curry's hand lightly supporting his elbow.
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Lom followed, wondering if he would make it. He glanced at Curry, who was saying goodnight to people, and tipping his hat to others, as they walked, not looking at Heyes, but his hand still holding discreetly onto Heyes’ arm, obviously not daring to attempt to help him further, but ready to catch him if he fell, or passed out, which, by the look on his face at this moment, looked a distinct possibility.
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Heyes spoke to no-one, his gaze fixed on the door, seeming to require all his concentration to keep on his feet.
They left the saloon and crossed the street to where their horses were tethered, along with a pack mule carrying their supplies. Heyes sat down on the edge of the boardwalk while Curry secured their belongings.
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“Are you alright?” Lom asked Heyes.
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“Yeah.” Heyes’ voice sounded strangled, “Just a little indigestion.”
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Lom opened his mouth to speak but Curry glared a warning at him. Heyes’ temper had grown more violent since his ordeal with Felton, and this subject was a sore point with him. He would not tolerate being told how to live his life, not even by Curry. If Lom started preaching to him now, there was liable to be an argument and Curry didn’t want him agitated in his present state. Also, Heyes didn’t realize how drunk he was, or that Lom had seen how ill he felt, and would be embarrassed if he indicated as much to him. It had taken him a long time to get his self respect back, and Curry did everything he could to protect him from things that might destroy it again.
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“Ready?” Curry said to Heyes now, his tone deliberately casual.
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Heyes stood up, taking a deep breath, “Yeah, sure.” He walked unsteadily over to Lom extending his hand. Lom could see that his face had gone pale.
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“It’s been good to see you, Lom. Really.” He pumped Lom’s hand.
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“Yeah. I’m glad I ran into you. You will let me know how you are won’t you? I was worried when I didn’t hear from you.”
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“We’ll send you a telegraph whenever we come to town. How’s that?” said Heyes.
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“Fine.”
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Heyes let go of Lom’s hand and mounted his horse, setting his hat more firmly on his head, losing his balance slightly as he did so and having to grab the saddle horn to keep upright.
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“You O.K?” Curry asked, with just the faintest note of concern in his voice.
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Heyes nodded, “I’m O.K.” he replied, but his voice sounded a little strained.
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“Take care you two.” Lom looked up at them.
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Curry winked and smiled, “We will. Don’t worry.” He turned his gaze to Heyes, concern in his eyes for his obvious discomfort, “See you, Lom.” he muttered absently, his mind already on other things.
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“Yeah, see you, Lom.” echoed Heyes, “And thanks.” He smiled briefly and then they were gone, leaving Lom standing on the boardwalk watching after them, his expression thoughtful.
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Heyes had always been the strong one. The leader. But these last few years had brought out hidden strengths in Curry. He was no longer the hot headed kid he’d been in his youth. He’d grown into a caring and sensitive man. He may have lacked Heyes’ intelligence and quick mind, but he’d learned a lot from everything that had happened this last couple of years and put it to good use, and was now, in every other way, Heyes’ equal. Lom knew he need not worry about them. They would look after each other until the end. He felt both relieved and sad. The only feeling he could liken it to was that of a Father watching his offspring flying the nest into the world.
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With a sigh, he went back into the saloon for another drink.
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Four months later, Lom received another telegraph from them which read
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"O.K. last trip. In town for repeat performance. Otherwise well. No problems. Don’t worry Mother."
It was signed just as ‘T & J’. Lom smiled. It was nice to know they hadn’t forgotten their promise.
From then on he got regular telegraphs every few months saying they were O.K, but they never mentioned visiting him, which he had hoped they would do eventually, and he had no reason to visit Cheyenne, and didn’t know if they would be in town if he did. He couldn’t forward a telegraph to them because he didn’t know what they called themselves now, so he had to content himself with the few lines he received three or four times a year.
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Eventually, he received one saying they had left their claim and had gotten themselves a small farm, although they made no mention of where it was. After that, they sent periodic letters rather than telegraphs, telling him how they were getting on. These said that they were making a living and were settled in the community. In some, Curry mentioned a girl, Rita, obviously a neighbour of theirs. Lom wondered if he might marry her, but subsequent letters made no mention of it.
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Lom was sure, if either of them decided to marry, he would be invited. At least, he hoped he would. Although they kept in contact with him now, the relationship between them seemed to have changed. Lom could only assume that it was as a result of them losing the amnesty. It had been a bitter blow to both of them, and an event they needed to try and push from their memories if they were to move on and make new lives for themselves. The only way to achieve that was to cut all ties with people, places and things that linked them to, or reminded them of, their old life. As the mediator between them and the Governor, and one of the few people who knew their haunts and habits well enough to track them down, Lom supposed it was only natural that they wanted to distance themselves from him as much as possible, although he couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed. He would have hoped that their friendship would go deeper than that after everything he’d done to help them over the years. But, he couldn’t really blame them. Many of the memories they shared were bad ones. In their shoes, he would probably want to forget too.
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