[Original: December 2005/Updated 2022]    

Chapters: 4

Word Count: 23,552

​

Warnings: Romance, Angst

​

 

 

THICKER THAN WATER

         

​by

Eleanor Ward

​

 

While waiting for Kid’s return from a job, Heyes falls in love.  But things get

complicated  when he realises he's not the only person in her life.

​

*    *    *

 

​

 

The smartly dressed Hotel desk clerk gave a disdainful look to the man who had just reserved a twin bedded room there.   His clothes were dusty and it was obvious that the man hadn’t been anywhere near a bath for several days.  The clerk watched as the man signed the register and then took out the deposit required for the room. He held it out to the clerk who made no move to take it from him.

 

The man eyed him for a moment, a flicker of irritation showing in his eyes, before he slapped the cash down on the counter and held out his hand for the key.  The clerk reached behind him and removed a key from the rack on the wall.  With a quick glance at the register, he said, in the politest voice he could muster, “You’re in Room Six, Mr. Jones” putting the key down on the desk rather than handing it directly to him.

 

Mr. Jones – alias Kid Curry -  picked up the key and, with a wry look,  tipped his dusty hat to the clerk before picking up his bags and heading upstairs.

 

After stowing the bags in the room, and making a half-hearted attempt to dust off his clothes, he went back downstairs and headed up the street and into the Doctor’s office.  There, his partner, Joshua Smith – alias Hannibal Heyes – was just paying the doctor for his services.  He turned as Curry entered.

 

“O.K?” Curry enquired, eyeing the sling supporting his partner’s right arm.

 

Heyes nodded, “No fracture, just ligament damage.” he told him, “It’ll be alright in a few days.”

 

“Two to three weeks,” the doctor corrected him, “providing you rest it.”

 

“Oh, you can be sure I’ll do that.” grinned Heyes, looking forward to playing the martyr for a few days and getting his partner to wait on him hand and foot.

 

Curry gave him a withering look, knowing what he was thinking.

 

Bidding the doctor goodbye they left his office, pausing on the boardwalk while they tried to get their bearings. They’d spent the last few weeks in the employ of ‘Big Mac’ McCreedy, who had sent them down into Mexico to help out on a cattle drive, which was one of the many and varied business interests that McCreedy was involved in.  The cattle were to be driven up through Chihuahua,  across the border near Cuidad Juarez and on to El Paso,  where McCreedy’s business associate would handle their sale. Heyes and Curry hated cattle driving at the best of times, but this trip, in the heat of the Mexican summer, across harsh, arid terrain, with a bunch of cowboys, most of whom spoke little or no English, had been worse than usual.  To top it all, three days out from El Paso, Heyes’ horse had missed it’s footing in uneven ground and thrown him, to land heavily on his arm and shoulder.  Feeling embarrassed at being so unceremoniously unseated Heyes had made out that he was unhurt, but, as the day wore on, his wrist, hand and arm had become more and more painful and by the time they made camp in the evening it was badly swelled and he could hardly move it.  He had spent the remainder of the trip trying to ride one handed, and was glad to finally arrive in El Paso.

 

They’d been to El Paso only once, several years ago, and the town had grown considerably in the time since.  They headed off up the street towards the Telegraph Office to wire McCreedy that they, and his cattle, had arrived safely, and to ask what other jobs he had in mind for them.  He had told them that he may have some more work waiting for them when they arrived in El Paso and to remain there and wait on his wire.

 

They went into the Telegraph Office where Heyes selected a piece of paper to write their message and then pushed it across the counter towards Curry along with a pencil.  At Curry’s questioning look, Heyes said, “Well, I can’t write it, can I?” indicating his tightly bandaged hand.

 

Curry sighed and picked up the pencil, copying the message Heyes dictated.  Then, after paying the clerk, they left the office.

 

“What now?”  asked Curry.

 

“I don’t know about you, but I could do with a good strong drink, to wash the dust down.” said Heyes.

 

Curry nodded,  “I could use a bath too.” he said.

 

Heyes nodded agreement, “How much money you got?” he enquired.

 

Curry delved into his pocket, “Three dollars. You?”

 

“Two twenty-five.” replied Heyes,  “What say we get a bath, then go to the saloon, see if we can get into a poker game and try and win some cash to hold us over until we get paid?”  They were due to pick up their money for the drive in three days time.

 

“O.K.” Curry agreed.

 

After getting a bath and changing their clothes, they went across to the saloon where Curry ordered their drinks while Heyes studied a poker game going on in the corner.

 

“Here.” Curry nudged him and handed him his glass.

 

Heyes took it in his left hand.  After downing their first drink in one gulp and pouring a second, which they drank more slowly, Heyes said sourly, “Kid, the next time McCreedy asks us to go chasing cattle - in fact the next time he asks us to do anything for him - I vote we tell him no, whether he threatens to turn us in or not.”

 

Curry nodded, “There’s nothing I’d like more.” he agreed heartily,  “The trouble is, as you keep reminding me, McCreedy tends to do just what he threatens, which doesn’t really leave us a lot of choice just now.”

 

Both were silent momentarily as they contemplated the hold McCreedy had over them since discovering their real identities after he’d hired them to recover a bust of Caesar allegedly stolen by his Mexican neighbour Armendariz.  Since then he’d roped them into several jobs on the threat of exposing them if they refused, and they were getting a little tired of it.  Curry had suggested on more than one occasion that they should call McCreedy’s bluff and refuse to do his bidding, but, as he’d just said,  McCreedy had a habit of doing exactly what he threatened, and Heyes hadn’t worked the man out enough yet to decide whether he would actually go through with exposing them if they did, and had so far been unwilling to risk putting him to the test.

 

Heyes sighed, dismissing the dilemma for the time being and turning his attention back to the poker game going on in the corner.

 

“Can you play, with that hand?” Curry nodded towards his injured hand.

 

“Well enough.” replied Heyes, removing the sling he’d been resting his arm in and shoving it in the pocket of his jacket.  Picking up his drink in his other hand he crossed to the table and smiled down at the group of men seated around it.

 

“Sit in?” he enquired, managing to turn the question into a statement.  No-one protested so Heyes slid onto a vacant seat.

 

Curry watched him from the bar.  Although Heyes handled the cards adequately, he could tell from his expression that his wrist was paining him badly, although he hid it well enough from the group of strangers he was playing with.

 

After a time the Curry turned away to pour another drink, bored with watching. He savoured the taste, sloshing the liquid between his teeth before swallowing it, his mind returning to their conversation about McCreedy.  Personally, he didn’t think Big Mac would expose them.  They were more useful to him on the run than in jail.  Also, some of McCreedy’s own dealings flew a bit close to the wire and he didn’t think he would risk turning them in since they could also cause him a deal of trouble.  Heyes, however, wasn’t convinced, and Curry was prepared to go along with his partner’s judgement. Heyes was a pretty good judge of character, and as cunning as a fox, and his hunches about people, and what they would, or wouldn’t do in a given situation had saved them from trouble on many occasions.

 

Heyes returned some time later with a satisfied smile on his face after taking a good deal of the other players’ money away from them.

​

“O.K?” Curry enquired, raising a questioning eyebrow.

 

Heyes nodded, “I’m getting a little peckish.  What say we head across to the restaurant and splash out on a couple of steaks?”

 

Curry grinned broadly,  “Now you’re talking, partner.”  He downed the remainder of his drink and they headed over to the restaurant.

 

Although they’d been on a cattle drive, beef was one item never on the menu and both relished the thought of a juicy steak after weeks of living on mostly beans and bacon.

​

They ordered two steak dinners, and also some wine.  Wine was something they didn’t drink often these days, although during their prolific bank robbing career they had eaten in some of the best restaurants in the country and had partaken of some of the best wines and spirits that money could buy and, occasionally, when their finances allowed, they treated themselves as a change from the cheap whisky that was often all they could afford. 

 

They sat chatting, and savouring the wine, until their meals arrived.

​

Curry hungrily tucked into his steak, but as he put the first forkful into his mouth he glanced across at Heyes to see that he hadn’t begun his.

 

“What’s up?” he enquired, with a puzzled look.

 

Heyes sighed,“I can’t cut this up.” he said, indicating his injured hand.

 

Curry raised his eyes to the ceiling and shook his head, “Give me your plate.” he told him. 

 

Heyes handed him the plate and Curry sliced the steak up into pieces before handing it back to him with a disdainful look.

 

Heyes said nothing and began to eat. But even though Curry had cut up the steak for him, he still noticed Heyes flinch whenever he put any pressure on his knife as he picked up the food so he refrained from making any further sartorial remarks on the subject.

​

The meal was as tasty as they’d hoped, and afterwards they both reclined in their seats with a rare cigar.

 

After they’d digested the food, Curry suggested returning to the saloon, but Heyes shook his head, “I’m not bothered. You go if you want, I’ll go back to the hotel.”

 

Curry eyed him curiously.  It wasn’t much after nine o’clock.  It was unusual for Heyes to want to retire this early.

 

“You O.K?” he asked.

 

Heyes shrugged, “I’m a bit tired.” he admitted. He hadn’t managed to get a decent night’s sleep since injuring his arm, the pain either preventing him from getting to sleep, or else waking him up during the night if he rolled over and lay on it, and he was looking forward to getting some sleep in a real bed after weeks on the cattle drive.

 

“I might go for an hour or so.” said Curry.

 

Heyes nodded his acknowledgement and, after paying for their meal, they left the restaurant and strolled down the street.

 

“See you later.” said Curry as they reached the saloon.

 

“O.K.” smiled Heyes, turning away, as Curry went inside, and heading down to the hotel, where he undressed and climbed into bed.  Tonight, he managed to fall asleep almost immediately and didn’t hear Curry come in an hour and a half later.

​

Curry crept across the room so as not to wake him and quietly undressed and got into bed.  In minutes he was fast asleep also.

 

 

*    *    *

 

 

After a leisurely breakfast the next morning, Heyes and Curry went across to the Telegraph Office to see if there was any word from McCreedy.  The Telegraph operator obliged them with a message. Curry opened it and read it, before handing it to Heyes.

 

The message read,  ‘Good job, boys.  Next job - One of you go to Bank and collect documents on my behalf.  Take to Silver City to Mr. Douglas Wilmott of Wilmott & Watson Attorneys, get signed and then countersign to say you witnessed the signature, then bring back to bank in El Paso.  One of you remain there for further instructions.’

 

Heyes finished reading and looked up at him, “I wonder what deal he’s got on the go now?”

 

Curry shrugged, “Probably buying up some real estate some place.” he suggested.

 

Heyes looked thoughtful as he pondered on what McCreedy might be up to.

 

“I’d better go.” Curry’s voice cut into his thoughts, “You can’t ride all that way on your own with that hand.”

 

“I guess.”  Heyes replied.  In truth, he would rather stay here in El Paso and spend some time gambling than have to ride all the way to Silver City, which would take a couple of weeks there and back. On the other hand, it was possible that whatever job McCreedy wanted one of them to wait in El Paso for instructions on might turn out to be something even worse. But, as Curry had just said, until his arm healed, it wasn’t feasible for him to travel to Silver City alone, so he had no choice but to stay here and wait to hear.

 

“Better wire him back then.”  he said now.

 

Curry picked up a piece of paper and Heyes dictated a reply,  ‘Jones will go to Silver City. I will wait for further instructions. Smith.’  They sent the reply and left.

 

They went across to the bank and asked to see the Manager, explaining to the somewhat suspicious looking secretary that they were Mr. McCreedy’s couriers come to collect some documents he wanted delivering.

 

The secretary disappeared and, a moment later, the Manager came out to them carrying a pouch containing the sealed documents that required signing.

 

After signing for them, they left the bank and went across to the general store to get enough supplies to last Curry for his journey.  He contemplated waiting until the next day to set off but, knowing McCreedy’s impatience, decided to leave that afternoon instead.

 

“Will you be OK here?” he asked Heyes.  No-one knew them in El Paso, and they didn’t know the Sheriff, so it seemed relatively safe to stay here a while, but there was always a chance that someone might recognize them, or that some problem might occur that might bring them to the Sheriff’s attention.

 

“Sure.” replied Heyes,  “If I should have to leave town in a hurry I’ll send a wire to you care of the telegraph office in Silver City to let you know where to find me, so keep an eye open, and if McCreedy comes up with another job I’ll leave word where I’ve gone with the desk clerk at the hotel and I’ll meet you back there when I’m done.”

 

Curry nodded, “O.K.”

 

Heyes delved in his pocket and drew out the money he’d won the previous night at the saloon.  After peeling off a few notes for himself he held out the remainder.

 

“Here, take this.”

 

Curry eyed the wad of notes,  “I don’t need that much.  I’ve got enough supplies, and I won’t be staying in Silver City long enough to need to spend a great deal. You need it more than me.”

 

“You never know what might come up.” Heyes told him, “Take it.”  At Curry’s doubtful expression he said, “I’ll pick up our money for the cattle drive the day after tomorrow. I’ve got enough to last until then.  Anyway, I plan to spend a little time at the poker table until I hear from McCreedy.”

 

Curry reluctantly took the money.

 

Heyes followed him out to where his horse was tethered, his belongings and supplies packed on it.

 

“Take care.” he told him as he mounted up.

 

“You too.” replied Curry, setting his hat more firmly on his head, “See you in a couple of weeks.  If there’s any problems, I’ll wire you.”

 

Heyes nodded. “O.K.”

 

Curry turned his horse and flipped his hand in a brief wave before setting off.  Heyes gave him a mock salute and then stood watching him out of sight before crossing to the saloon.

 

*    *    *

 

 

After spending a couple of hours in the saloon playing poker, where he won a decent amount of money, Heyes went to change and then headed across to the restaurant for supper.

 

As he entered, he automatically scanned the room, checking that there was nobody in there he knew, or who might know him.  There were only seven other people there, a young married couple, an older couple, two men dressed in travelling clothes and a woman dining alone.  She had her back to the door and so he couldn’t see her face.  Satisfied there was no-one in there who might know him, he seated himself at a vacant table and perused the menu.

 

He chose pork chops this evening, thinking they might be easier to handle than the steak he’d had difficulty cutting up the previous night.  However, when the meal arrived he discovered that they were almost as difficult to cut.  He attempted several times to cut them up and was just about to give up on etiquette and pick them up when a woman’s voice said, “Would you like some help with that?”

 

Heyes looked up to see the woman he’d noticed eating alone in the corner of the restaurant as he’d come in, standing by his side.  She was probably around his own age, with a delicately boned face and large green eyes.  Her dark hair was swept up on her head.  She was wearing a dark green silk dress, and several pieces of expensive jewellery.

 

“I couldn’t help noticing you were having trouble with that.” The woman said now, her voice soft and sultry, “Would you like me to cut it up for you?”

 

Heyes looked a little sheepish, “That’s very kind of you, M’am.” he smiled.

 

The woman merely smiled and, taking his knife and fork from him, cut the meat into manageable portions before handing them back to him.

 

“Thank you.” smiled Heyes.

 

“Do you mind if I join you?” the woman asked, “Unless you’re expecting someone of course?”

 

“I’m not.” said Heyes, “Please do.”

 

The woman fetched the remainder of her meal and sat down opposite him.

​

“Are you new to town? I’ve not seen you around before.”

 

“Just passing through.” Heyes replied.

 

Oh? To anywhere in particular?”

 

“I’m not sure yet.  I’m waiting for a wire from someone with word of a job.”

 

The woman nodded politely, “I’m sorry.  I should have introduced myself.” she said presently,  “My name is Veronica Browning.”

 

“Is that Miss, or Mrs?” Heyes enquired.  Long experience had taught him to find out if there was a husband or gentleman friend on the scene before attempting to pursue any sort of relationship with women.

 

“Mrs.” Veronica replied.

 

“Ah.” Heyes nodded knowingly.

 

Veronica smiled,  “I’m a widow.” she told him.

 

“Ah.” Heyes said again, this time with interest.

 

“And you?” Veronica enquired, when Heyes made no introduction.

 

“Joshua Smith.” Heyes replied.

 

“And what line of business are you in, Mr. Smith?”

 

“Any that pays money, Mrs Browning.”

 

“Please, call me Veronica.”

 

“Joshua.” responded Heyes.

 

They chatted as they ate.  Veronica told him that her late husband had been a lawyer who had died of a heart attack, leaving her well provided for, but that she made an extra income from teaching piano.

 

“Do you play?” she enquired.

 

Heyes smiled, “The piano? No.  I don’t, although I’ve always wanted to learn.”

 

“Perhaps I could teach you?” said Veronica, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

 

“I doubt I’ll be in town long enough for that.” Heyes told her.

 

“It doesn’t take long to learn the basics.” Veronica replied, “I’m sure I could soon get a decent tune out of you.” she added, with an impish grin, to which Heyes smiled politely, not quite sure what to say to that.

 

“Are you from El Paso?” he asked presently, changing the subject.

 

“No.  I’m originally from Santa Fe.  I met Henry when he came there on business.

 

Heyes nodded politely.

 

“What about you? Where are you from?”

 

“Kansas originally.  But I haven’t been back there in years.” said Heyes, his expression clouding at the memories that rose up in him.

 

“Oh?” said Veronica, noticing his expression. “Why’s that?”

 

Heyes shrugged, “No reason to stay.” he replied vaguely.

 

“Don’t you have family there?”

 

“No.  None.”

 

“But you must have had once?” said Veronica, intrigued by his ambiguity.

 

Heyes sighed,  “Yes. But not now.”

 

When Veronica made no reply, he glanced across at her, to see her studying him intently.

​

He shrugged, “They were killed.” he told her, surprising himself with his honesty.  He rarely spoke, even to Curry, about their childhoods back in Kansas, never mind to a total stranger.

 

“Killed?” Veronica repeated.

 

Heyes nodded,  “By bushwhackers.” he said gruffly,  “They came to our farm, killed my folks and burned the place to the ground.”

 

“How awful.” Veronica looked horrified,  “How did you escape?”

 

Heyes studied his plate,  “I was out doing my chores.  I heard the commotion and came back to see what was going on… When I saw what was happening… I hid... so they wouldn’t find me.”

 

Veronica studied him. “How old were you?” she asked presently.

 

“Nine.”  Heyes said quietly, his gaze still on his plate.

 

“I’m sorry.” Veronica told him.

 

Heyes looked up at her now, the pain of those memories showing in his eyes, but he forced a smile and shrugged.  “Life goes on.” he said casually.

 

“What did you do?” she asked, studying him intently.  She had thought him extremely handsome when he’d entered the restaurant, but there was something intriguing about him, and mysterious. He seemed worldly wise and yet at the same time there was an air of the little-boy-lost about him, and she found herself enormously drawn to him.

 

“I left town.  Left the state.  Begged, borrowed and… scrounged my way through life,” He’d been a bout to say ‘stole’ but checked himself at the last minute, “until I was old enough to work.” he finished, cursing himself for being so loose tongued,  “I’ve done lots of different jobs since then.” he continued, getting himself back on track,  “Ranching, mining, a bit of everything.  This past few weeks I’ve been cattle driving.”

 

Veronica smiled.

 

“What about you?” asked Heyes, wanting to get off the subject of himself. Apart from not liking talking about the past, it was risky to reveal too much in case his identity was discovered, “What else do you get up to besides teaching piano?  It must get very boring for you living here on your own.”

 

“Oh, I do alright.” she smiled,  “I’m a member of the townswomen’s guild, I do a lot of work for the church, and I entertain a fair bit.”

 

Heyes nodded politely, thinking what a waste it was for someone as attractive as her to be engaged in work for the townswomen’s guild, which were generally made up of ageing spinsters.

​

“How long have you been a widow?” he asked presently.

 

“Five years.  He was twelve years older than me.” she added, giving him a sad smile.

 

“Do you think you’ll ever marry again?”

 

“I  might.  If I meet the right man.” Veronica replied, her eyes boring into his.

 

Heyes smiled.

 

“Is there anyone... special… in your life?” Veronica enquired.

 

After a moment Heyes said, “Not at the moment.”

 

They had finished eating now and Heyes gestured to the waitress to bring him the bill.

​

“Please, let me pay for yours too.” he said, when the waitress brought it.

 

“There’s no need.” Veronica smiled.

 

“I insist.” said Heyes, “It’s the least I can do for you helping me out.”

 

“Very well.” Veronica conceded.

 

Heyes paid the bill and they left the restaurant.

 

“May I escort you home?” Heyes asked politely as they stood outside the restaurant.

 

“If it’s no trouble.” smiled Veronica.

 

“I’d be glad to.” replied Heyes.

 

“It’s only a few minutes walk.” Veronica told him as they set off.

 

They strolled along, chatting amiably.  When they reached Veronica’s house, she turned to Heyes and said, “Would you like to come in for some coffee, or a brandy?”

 

Heyes eyed her momentarily. He knew from the look in her eyes that if he accepted her offer it wouldn’t only be coffee and brandy they would be sharing.  He knew he ought to refuse – not only was he not going to be in town for long enough to form any sort of relationship with her, he couldn’t afford to form a relationship with her.  Until, if, they won their amnesty, they needed to remain as anonymous as possible, as any such involvements might result in their identities being discovered.  Yet, while his head told him to say no, his heart was telling him to accept.  It had been a long time since he’d had any relationship with a woman, other than an occasional night of passion with a saloon girl, especially one as lovely as Veronica.  He opened his mouth, fully intending to decline her offer but found himself saying instead,  “A brandy would be nice.”

 

Veronica smiled, her eyes holding his, full of promise.  She opened the door and Heyes followed her inside.  She showed him into a comfortably furnished parlour and went to pour two glasses of brandy.  Heyes hovered by the hearth cursing himself for being too weak to refuse her offer.

​

Veronica carried the glasses over and handed him one.

 

“Please, sit down.” Veronica indicated a sofa in front of the hearth.

 

Heyes sat down and Veronica seated herself beside him.

 

“How did you injure your hand?” she asked presently.

 

Heyes looked sheepish,  “On the cattle drive.” he replied,  “My horse missed its footing and threw me.  I landed on my arm and damaged ligaments in my wrist and hand and bruised my shoulder.”

 

“It’s a wonder you didn’t break it, or even your neck.” said Veronica.

 

“I don’t think it would have hurt any more if I had broken it.” said Heyes, “But the doctor says it’ll be alright in a couple of weeks.”

 

While he had been speaking, Veronica had put down her glass and moved closer to him.

 

“You don’t strike me as the type of person to be driving cattle.” she told him.

 

“I have to admit, it’s not my favourite pastime, but it pays well enough.” said Heyes.

 

“And what is your favourite pastime?” Veronica enquired huskily, her face now inches from Heyes’, the smell of her cologne drifting into his nostrils, her breath warm on his neck.  He closed his eyes, knowing he should make his excuses and leave, now, before things got out of hand, but, truthfully, he didn’t want to. And what harm could it do to spend some time with her?  They were both consenting adults.  He had told her that he wasn’t going to be in town long, that he would be leaving as soon as he received word of his next job, and so he wasn’t misleading her into thinking there was any chance of a long term relationship. She probably wasn’t looking for one anyway.  He guessed she was lonely and just looking for a bit of comfort, something to alleviate the monotony of widowhood.

 

“Well, that would depend on where I am and who I’m with.” he replied softly, near to her ear.

 

“Well, you’re here, now, with me.” Veronica’s voice was barely audible as she turned her face up and brushed her lips against his.  Her lips were soft and warm and before he knew it, he had put his arms around her and drawn her closer, the kiss deepening until Heyes broke away with a barely suppressed sigh of desire.  But Veronica slid her hand up his neck and into his hair and pulled him to her once more, her kiss more demanding. Several moments later Heyes pulled away once more.

 

“What’s wrong?” whispered Veronica, her mouth working it’s way down his neck, her hands moving to unfasten the buttons of his shirt so that she could move lower, working her way down his chest and across to one nipple.

 

“Nothing.” replied Heyes, his voice husky with desire. In truth, he was overwhelmed by the feelings she was arousing in him.  Her kisses had affected him in a way he’d never experienced before, and while somewhere in the back of his mind warning bells were going off, telling him that this was a relationship he should not pursue, not only for his safety, but his sanity, he desperately wanted it to continue.  He struggled briefly with his warring emotions, but, as Veronica pulled open the rest of his shirt and worked her way down past his bellybutton, he gave in to his desires, thrusting everything else from his mind as he hungrily pulled open her dress and began to reciprocate her actions.

 

Later, as they lay spent in each others arms on the rug in front of the hearth, Heyes had to acknowledge that their lovemaking was on a completely different level to anything he’d experienced before, and even as his conscience was telling himself that he shouldn’t get involved with her, he was already making plans to see her again.

 

Veronica cuddled closer to him, basking in the afterglow of their passion and ready for sleep.

 

Heyes shook himself out of his mental deliberations, “It’s late.  I should go.” he said softly.

 

“Stay.” Veronica muttered sleepily, cuddling closer.

 

With a sigh, Heyes wrapped his arms around her, and, pushing his concerns to the back of his mind, slept.

 

*    *    *

 

 

When Heyes woke the next morning, he found himself alone on the rug in front of the hearth, a blanket now covering him.  He sat up, putting his elbows on his knees and raking his hands through his hair, yawning.  Presently he dropped his hands and looked about him.  His clothes, which the previous night had been scattered haphazardly on the floor were now neatly folded on an armchair by the hearth.  On top of them was a handwritten note. A frown puckered his brow as he wondered how he’d managed to remain asleep and not hear Veronica’s departure. He got to his feet and picked up the note. On it was written, ‘Had an early lesson.  Didn’t want to wake you.   I’ll be in the restaurant at 7.30pm tonight if you care to join me.  Veronica.’

 

Heyes chewed his lip as he contemplated her words, his concerns of the previous night coming back into his mind.  He liked her.  He liked her a lot, and that was dangerous.  He should walk away, now, before he got any more involved with her.  He couldn’t afford to get emotionally involved with her, with any woman, until they’d got their amnesty.  If he got involved with Veronica, she might ask him to stay with her, and he couldn’t.  Nor would he be able to explain why.  The best thing would be to not meet her in the restaurant, and to keep well out of her way until he got word from McCreedy about the job he wanted doing.  Yet, even as he told himself that, he had already made up his mind to meet her.

 

He dressed, struggling to fasten the buttons on his shirt as pain sliced through his wrist causing him to curse out loud.  Then he let himself out of the house, looking around to make sure that no-one saw him, before heading back to the hotel to wash and change and then going across to the restaurant to get some breakfast.

 

Later, he adjourned to the saloon for a drink and a few games of poker before returning to the hotel to change for dinner.

 

He walked into the restaurant at exactly seven thirty to find Veronica seated at the same table she’d been at the previous night, only this time it was set for two.  She was sipping a glass of wine, and another stood on the opposite side of the table.

 

Heyes crossed to the table and stood looking down at her, “How did you know I’d come?” he enquired.

 

Veronica smiled, “I didn’t.”

 

Heyes raised a quizzical eyebrow and seated himself opposite to her.  She was wearing a dark red dress, her hair loose tonight, cascading in gentle waves over her shoulders.

 

“You should have woken me.” Heyes chastised her for leaving him at the house, still amazed that she had got up and gone around collecting up his clothes without him hearing her. He usually slept like a cat, alert to any noise or disturbance and, in one way, was perturbed that he had slept so soundly.  If nothing else, it was dangerous, with the law after them.  They never knew when someone might recognize them and either follow them, with the intention of either killing or capturing them to take them in for the reward on their heads, or else putting the Sheriff onto them, and so, even when sleeping, subconsciously they kept one ear open for any sound or movement that might indicate trouble, always prepared for immediate flight.  He hardly knew Veronica. Who was to say that she hadn’t recognized him and lured him to her house with the intention of arranging to confine him somehow while she fetched the Sheriff.  A faint shudder ran through him at the thought of what could have happened. 

 

Veronica shrugged, “You looked so peaceful, I didn’t have the heart.” she told him.

 

Heyes smiled,  “Nobody saw me leave.” he told her, concerned for her reputation.

 

Veronica laughed out loud, “It wouldn’t matter if they did.” she told him, “They’d probably think you were one of my students.”

 

“How many do you have?” asked Heyes.

 

“About a dozen currently.  Six children, four elderly ladies and two gentlemen.”

 

“I’d like to hear you play.” Heyes told her.

 

“I’d like to play for you.” replied Veronica.

 

They ordered their meals, Heyes choosing a stew this evening, wanting to avoid having anything that required cutting up as his hand was still too painful to put any pressure on it.

 

After they’d eaten, they poured more wine and sat chatting as Heyes smoked a cigar.

 

Veronica called for the bill, but Heyes insisted on paying, having won some more money at the poker table earlier that afternoon.

 

“I invited you, I should pay.” Veronica protested.

 

“I wouldn’t hear of it.” said Heyes.

 

Veronica sighed,  “Alright.  But only if you let me cook dinner for you tomorrow evening.  I eat here most nights simply because it’s too much trouble to cook for one.  It would be a pleasant change to cook for someone else.”

 

“It’s a deal.” smiled Heyes.

 

He paid the bill and then escorted Veronica back to her house, where once again he accepted her invitation for a brandy, and once again they made love in front of the fire in the parlour.  Tonight however, he made sure he left and went back to the hotel afterwards, much to Veronica’s chagrin.

 

 *    *    *

 

The following morning, Heyes went into town to collect his and Curry's wages for the cattle drive.  He then went to the telegraph office to see if there was a wire from McCreedy, not sure whether to be relieved, or disappointed, when there wasn’t.  He once again spent the afternoon in the saloon before going back to the hotel to change and then going up to Veronica’s house for the meal that she had promised to cook for them.

 

She answered his knock to the door clad in a turquoise blue dress which was partly obscured by an apron.  Her hair was neatly coiled at the nape of her neck and secured with a diamante pin.  She ushered Heyes into the Dining Room and handed him a glass of wine before disappearing into the kitchen to finish preparing the dinner. 

 

Heyes seated himself on a small sofa in the window, sipping the wine and thinking that he could get used to this.

 

Eventually, Veronica entered with a large silver tray on which were several platters. She set them down on the table and then went back to fetch their plates.

 

“Do sit down.” she told him, indicating his place at the table.

 

Heyes obliged and Veronica served the food, which was a beef dish in some kind of sauce that Heyes had never tasted before, but which was delicious.  Fortunately the meat was already diced and didn’t require any cutting.  Whether that was how the dish was served, or whether Veronica had done it to accommodate his injured hand, he couldn’t guess at, but he was grateful nonetheless.  There were also several choices of vegetables on the platters she had brought in, as well as potatoes.

 

After the meal, Veronica agreed to Heyes’ request for her to play the piano for him, and he sat and listened as she played a selection of classical pieces, proving herself to be an accomplished pianist.

 

Later, they adjourned to the parlour where once again they ended up making love in front of the hearth before falling asleep in each others arms.

 

The next morning, Heyes helped her clear up the dishes from the previous night’s meal, which had been left unwashed, before he bid her farewell, promising to meet her again that evening, which he did, and on every evening for the rest of that week, when they would inevitably end up making love in front of the fire in the parlour.

 

He had still not received a wire from McCreedy, and he was secretly hoping that maybe the job he had planned had fallen through so that he could spend more time with Veronica.  They’d been seeing each other for seven days now, and Heyes was falling more and more deeply for her with each day that passed, to the point where he was beginning to chew over ideas in his head for ways that he could stay with her.