RAIN FROM HEAVEN

By Dawnwind

Alias Smith and Jones

Part two of two

Gen

* * * * * *

Residents from the homesteads on the mountain arrived to put finishing touches to the chapel. Rough backless pews were hammered together, hinges hung for the door and donated glass inserted into the windows. Sister Luke had spent the last few days stitching an altar cloth with a beautiful cross embroidered in white silk thread. She sat on the porch watching the construction, finishing her embroidery.

“Sister.” Heyes leaned against the porch railing. “I met a man named Deck, in town.”

She looked up at him, giving a brief shy smile.

“He told me some stories about Zebulan.” Heyes grinned back, impressed by her embroidery. There was no end of talented people around here. “He was a trapper? Some of that stuff sounded like legends.”

Luke bent over her stitchery, her sweet face brightly pink, embarrassed by Heyes’ attention.

“Buffalo hunting, fighting Indians, and then he served in the war under General Lee . . .not many people can say that,” Heyes continued, toying with a loose thread on the bandage around his injured hand. “Settling down here must have been real quiet after everything he’d done.”

She nodded, pushing the needle through the linen self consciously, despite her enjoyment at hearing someone else praise her beloved father.

“But originally, he owned everything around here? All the way down past where Cottersville is now.” Heyes watched her sewing, knowing she was uncomfortable and probably wouldn’t answer him. “He should have been the richest man around here instead of ending up stuck half way up a mountain on the smallest plot of land around.”

“You said it yourself.” Mary Joseph stood behind them, as usual, having approached so quietly no one had heard her. Heyes was beginning to find it a most unnerving ability. She could have excelled as an eavesdropper. “The man was an adventurer. He didn’t have much of a head for business -- or land owning.”

Conscientiously burying her thread under a previously stitched area, Sister Luke smiled gratefully at the older nun.

“By the time we arrived three years ago, he’d already lost all of it. I’m not sure if he sold it all or . . . just wasn’t very good at staking his claim.” Joseph shaded her eyes, watching Doyle and Polansky hanging the chapel door. “It was an enormous property for a man with a wife and two small girls . . .”

“When did he first settle here?” Heyes asked, swiveling his head between each nun, waiting for an answer.

Dropping her altar cloth into her lap, Luke held up all ten fingers, then flashed her right five fingers a second time.

“Fifteen years . . .” Heyes interpreted. “A long time. And then the Shaunnessys moved in an’ started taking over.”

“That’s about the extent of it.” The taller nun raised her eyebrows. “I think he began to feel worthless, until he was a tired, sad, old man.”

Sister Luke made a strangled sound, grabbed up her stitchery and scurried into the house, her black wool skirt almost catching in the door as it shut.

“Oh, dear . . .” Mary Joseph sighed. “She was very close to her father. Her mother and sister died when she was younger. I’ll go talk to her.”

“Sister, I think I’d like to have a . . .” Heyes stopped, uncertain what to call it, “Orphanage meeting. We all need to talk.”

“Even the children?”

“I think you all have a stake in this.” He nodded. “After dinner?” She nodded in return, following the other nun inside.

“Give me that!!” Ruth Ann’s voice rose angrily, seconds before she came barreling around the building, chasing Zeke. “I had it first!”

Zeke zigged through the still open door of the chapel, seeking sanctuary behind the unfinished altar. The volunteer builders laughed heartily, peering after the boy before going back to their construction.

“What are you two doing?” Heyes asked irritably. He still hadn’t gotten enough sleep.

“He had my . . . the chapel looks really good with the windows in.” She swung her head around, blond braids flapping over her shoulder to inspect the newest improvements. “D’jou think we could have colored glass? Like a real church.”

Zeke skulked out the back of the chapel, hiding something Heyes couldn’t quite identify in his hands.

“Not that this doesn’t look like a real church, cause it does . . .” Ruth Ann continued, “But I saw a picture of one in England, and it had the most bee-u-tiful windows I ever did see, all about Jesus and angels with big wings and cherubim and the like . . .” She waved her arms to illustrate the feathery wings, pirouetting like a drunken ballerina. Forgetting why she’d been chasing Zeke, Ruth Ann pranced back around the main house in search of Sofia and Samuel.

Heyes laughed, bracing his bruised ribs with his elbow. He liked being around children. They kept life lively and completely unpredictable. In fact, he hadn’t lied to Eddie Lee when he’d said he liked living at the orphanage. The nuns, the kids, hell, even the ragtag population of upper Cottersville had begun to feel like . . . the word popped unbidden into his head; like a family. Like people he wanted to keep on knowing for a long time. A soft wind ruffled needles on the trees over his head, the heady scent of pine and earth rich and redolent, cementing the memory of the place in his senses.

It wasn’t a perfect place by a long shot. Pretty women who were of a courtable age would be good, for a start. At least two of them. One for himself and one for Kid. And then there were the Shaunnessys. Two brothers Heyes would like run out of town on a rail. He indulged his imagination by picturing Eddie Lee and Jimmy Joe covered with tar, feathers sticking out of their blond heads, straddling a rail. He rubbed his unshaven chin with a frown – how exactly was that done, anyway?

“What’re you smiling about?” Kid asked, sliding gingerly down from the old pie’s saddle. His healing ribs and arm, coupled with the loosening effects of the pain powder had allowed him much greater freedom. He’d begun by taking a short ride around the acreage, familiarizing himself with the closer trails. He barely remembered being clobbered by the tree, much less arriving at the orphanage. It was totally alien to his nature to have lived in a place for nearly three weeks without having learned the lay of the land. The mild ache in his bones wasn’t bad enough to diminish his joy at being out on a horse again.

“Nothing.” Heyes stroked the horse’s gray muzzle, “Kid, this horse is as old as you are. Can’t be an easy ride.”

“He’s bumpy,” Kid conceded, rubbing his backside, “But I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“Sorry about your horse.” Heyes shrugged hands outspread. “It was you or that nag -- an’ I couldn’t get him out of the mud.”

Curry regarded his cousin, blue eyes steady on the brown ones. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“Pulling me out of the mud,” he said simply, leading the horse over to the barn.

“The least I could do.” Heyes said sotto voce, watching his best friend remove the animal’s bridle. There had never been any question. He loped over before Kid tried to take the saddle off one handed, to take over the more strenuous work. Kid produced a currycomb, playfully brushing his cousin’s black hair.

* * * * * *

Dinner finished, Ruth Ann and Charles cleared away the remains of the rabbit and potato pie, bringing out apples and goat cheese made by Maria Billings. The twins commandeered a single piece of fruit, splitting it between the two of them.

“What a satisfying meal, Sister.” Mary Moses pared one of the apples with her knife. “It is amazing what the townspeople have provided for us.”

“Amen.” Joe didn’t like to admit to Earthly vices, but she couldn’t resist a nice piece of cheese. She bit into a creamy piece with gusto.

Luke bobbed her head shyly at the compliments, clasping her apple in her hands without eating it.

“According to sources . . .” Heyes eyed Ruth Ann with a smirk. “Rumors are rampant around here about what I’ve been doing in Cottersville.”

“Well, Joshua, what have you been doing in Cottersville?” Moses popped a slice of apple into her mouth, unable to resist a straight line.

“Yeah, Joshua . . .” Kid teased, placing his fingers over a squirming Sofia’ ears, “Maybe the kids shouldn’t . . . ”

“I wanna know!” Zeke proclaimed.

“Seriously.” Heyes waved them all to quiet down. “I need your agreement on this.” He looked around the table, each person returning his gaze with a mixture of expressions. “I need the deed to this land as . . . collateral, I guess you could call it.”

“To get into the poker game?” Mary Moses asked, her round face sober.

“No, I’ve got the five hundred.”

“You need five hundred dollars to play poker with Mr. Shaunnessy?” Ruth Ann exclaimed indignantly. Having only ever played for matchsticks, she hadn’t realized the money that could be made at cards.

“To tempt Mr. Shaunnessy to put up a deed of his own,” Mary Joseph guessed, setting down the last slice of cheese. “You plan to win the game? How can you be certain you can do that?”

Ever impressed by the oldest nun’s deductive reasoning, Heyes nodded. “I need to win that game. If I do, I think I can get the lower half of the river back for you. Shaunnessy owns that land all the way down to Billings’ place.”

“I know.” Joseph watched him, trusting the ex-outlaw implicitly. “But what happens if you don’t win?”

There was a profound silence around the table, even the children realizing the seriousness of the situation.

Kid finally spoke. “He rarely loses.”

Heyes shot him a grateful smile.

“Can’t you cheat?” Zeke asked curiously, snagging a quarter of Ruth Ann’s apple.

“No!” Two nuns chorused, Sister Luke giving an emphatic shake of her head. Charles whacked him on the arm disdainfully.

“It’s a sin, huh?” Zeke sighed. Nobody ever liked his ideas.

“You’re so dumb,” Ruth Ann shot at him, taking back her apple.

“It’s certainly not right.” Mary Moses admonished, “I’m not sure any of this is, really. . .” “We don’t have a lot of choice anymore.” Sister Mary Joseph cut through the chatter. “The accidents have escalated, it’s become dangerous to live here. If we want to stay. . .” She waited until there were nods and muttered agreement from everyone. “Then we need to fight back. I don’t normally approve of gambling, but God sent Thaddeus and Joshua when we needed them -- with specific abilities that we lack, and I for one am not about to let an opportunity like this pass us by.”

“But what if he does lose?” Charles objected, not enjoying the role of Devil’s advocate, but wanting an answer to the original question. This was his home, after all.

“Then we move.” Joseph’s practical side shone forth. “It’s as simple as that.”

“I thought that’s what you’d say.” He sat back warily, listening to the adults elaborate on the plan. All sides argued vehemently the various angles to the problem but no one consensus was made.

“I say get back my Daddy’s land.” Sister Luke’s voice was as sweet as her face, slightly rusty from disuse, but firm in her conviction. She blushed crimson as everyone at the table turned to stare at her.

“The voice of reason.” Joseph inclined her head at the younger nun. “As Zebulan’s daughter, Sister Luke has the most to lose here, and the swaying vote. Joshua, you win back that land.”

“Can you get rid of Mr. Shaunnessy, too?” Sofia screwed up her face in a scowl. “He’s a mean man.”

“I know how to play poker, Sweetie.” Heyes cupped his hand under her chin, giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead, “Leave the rest to Sheriff Taylor.”

“Do you need to practice?” Ruth Ann asked interestedly, “I mean, if you want to play poker, Thaddeus taught me three kinds and . . . ”

“Now, she must be cheating,” Zeke interrupted. “Ain’t no girl can really play poker like her.”

“There isn’t . . . no girl could . . . ” Moses tried to untie his grammatical knot, finally throwing up her hands. “Zeke, don’t talk about her like that.”

“She is good.” Charles pointed at his younger sister. “Steven could play cards like that, too.”

“You’re on.” Heyes dimpled, always ready for a game. “Just never draw to an inside straight and bluff when you’ve got low cards.”

“Thaddeus said that – ‘bout the inside straight.” Ruth Ann produced a deck of cards, recalling the conversation between Jones and Dr. Sebastian. “But I don’t know what it is.”

“Does everyone eavesdrop around here?” Kid asked no one in particular as the nuns left for their evening prayers and the smaller children trailed after Sister Moses.

“Time for a lesson, then.” Heyes winked at the blond girl, “K-Thaddeus tells me you’re good.”

Glowing with this praise, Ruth Ann pulled up a chair next to her brother as the cards were dealt. Zeke and Kid joined the game, arguing amiably over the values of the matchsticks.

Heyes actually had to concentrate on his game to win against Ruth Ann. He found himself surprisingly challenged. While Kid was technically a better player, from years of experience playing against his cousin, Ruth Ann was reckless, impulsive and unpredictable. Heyes could interpret nearly all of Curry’s nuances, despite the fact that Kid had an impassive ‘poker face’ and was a decent bluffer to make up for his less that impressive card skill.

Charles and Zeke sat together, conferring on each other’s hands, telegraphing every good or bad card without saying a word. But Ruth Ann sat hunched over her hand, tongue caught between her teeth, humming when she was ready to bet, frowning intently when she was concentrating. As Kid had discovered, she had the uncanny knack, like Hannibal Heyes, to count cards. Instinctively knowing after one round of poker how many more deuces, aces and other high cards were left in the dealer’s pack after seeing what the other players had folded with.

“Charles?” Heyes raised an eyebrow, tapping his straight flush together into a compact pile. “Bet or fold.”

“Fold.” Charles dropped his two threes, jack, seven of hearts and eight of diamonds onto the table.

“You coulda bluffed with that, huh, Joshua?” Ruth Ann asked, storing away every trivial bit of knowledge for the game.

“Two threes could win with the right bluff,” Heyes admitted. “But it takes panache.”

“Ain’t got it.” Charles laughed. “Whatever it is.”

“Sounds like the measles.” Zeke made a face, chewing on his lip. His mixed hand of high and low cards was essentially worthless. “I bet two matches.”

“I’ll match the pot.” Kid dropped in six, more than satisfied with his two tens and three fives.

“Me, too.” The little girl flicked in half a dozen matchsticks, holding her jack high straight below the edge of the table.

“All right, Ruth Ann, I’ll raise you,” Heyes challenged, suspecting she was holding a good hand.

“Not me.” Zeke dropped out.

“I’m still in.” Kid eyed his cousin, straight faced. “I’m planning a big bonfire with all those matches.”

“Hey, yeah, we never had that bonfire you promised!” Zeke interjected, pointing a finger at the dark haired man. Heyes nodded absently, his eyes on the little girl.

“No, no, no.” Ruth Ann poked her tongue out again, the pink tip resting on her bottom lip. “Uh -- I’ll meet you an’ raise one match.”

“You have enough to win?” Heyes wished he had a nice cheroot about now. Bluffing always went even better when he could puff on a big cigar.

After counting her remaining stakes, she squinted up at him, “Enough for one more bet, right?”

“I’ll match the pot,” Heyes teased, pushing in the correct number of matches.

“Then I don’t . . . ” Ruth Ann stared at him hard, “You want me to bluff again?”

“Well, don’t tell him!” Charles laughed, “Just do it.”

“I’ll . . . .” The girl checked the cards she held in her gingham clad lap. “I want an IOU from Charles for six matches.” Her brother complied silently with the request, he certainly was never going to win at poker. “And I match the pot and raise it by one.”

“I’m in,” Kid agreed, just to see how far Heyes could get Ruth Ann to go.

“Oh . . . ” She flicked out her tongue like a lizard, “That’s all, I call it.” She pulled out her cards, spreading them carefully on the table, “Jack, ten, nine, eight and seven. A straight.”

“Full house.” Kid showed his hand.

“Queen high straight flush.” Heyes grinned triumphantly. “And Ruth Ann, I told you not to draw to an inside straight.”

“Yeah, but it worked didn’t it?” She asked reasonably. On her first card replacement, she’d gotten rid of a three to get the nine, and could have won if she’d just been a little bolder. Oh, well, maybe next time.

Zeke reached out to gather the cards in for another hand when Heyes stopped him, “Wait, I want to try something first.” He tapped the cards still neatly in the deck. “Ruth Ann, there’s twenty five cards out on the table, take a good, quick look at them, then tell me what’s left here in the deck.”

“Yes?” She scanned the cards all laid out face up, before Heyes signaled Zeke to collect them. “There were all four tens out, three jacks, and all the fives.” She concentrated, counting briefly on her fingers. “Three aces left; Heart, Diamond and Spade. All the Kings, three queens, jack of Hearts, no tens, two nines, one eight -- the club, two sevens, three sixes, three fours, three of diamonds, and three of hearts and three deuces.” She let out a deep breath as Heyes handed the remaining deck to Kid to count.

“Spot on.” Kid nodded proudly.

“Jeez, an’ she’s just a little girl!” Zeke groaned.

“That’s my sister!” Charles clapped her on the back. She was blushing with pride, dimples poking out both ends of her smile.

“I’ll tell you, Ruth Ann.” Heyes said. “That’s a gift.”

“Ain’t too many people can do that,” Kid agreed. “He’s one of ‘em.”

“Can I make lots of money at this, like you?” she asked slyly.

“Well . . . ” Heyes began.

“Joshua, y’know that book I showed you?” Zeke interrupted, “About Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry?” The real Kid, who had gotten up for a dipper full of water to drink, sputtered, the water spraying over the roaring fire, making tiny hissing sounds.

“What?” Heyes asked, distracted between his cousin choking and Zeke’s question.

“Well, it said that Hannibal Heyes could count . . . ”

“All right!” Kid had recovered enough to speak. “I think its about time for small children to go to bed.”

“Who’s small?” Zeke demanded, indignant.

“You are.” Charles stood his full five foot eight, towering over the ten-year-old boy. “Children go to bed, Adults have things to do. I’m taking the first guard duty.”

“When did you get to be an adult?” Ruth Ann challenged her brother, hands on hips.

“Since now, and if you don’t get on, I’ll call in my IOU, Sis.” Charles laughed, herding her towards the bedroom.

The nuns returned from Vespers to aid in the bedtime preparations, and it was decided that Mary Moses should take first watch, Charles second, and let Thaddeus bring in the morning. Heyes, exhausted after minimal sleep the night before, was more than happy to crawl into bed next to his cousin.

“What’s this book Zeke has?” Kid asked sleepily, shedding his trousers before getting into bed clad only in longjohns.

“Great literature. A penny dreadful featuring you and me.” Heyes turned his face to the wall, burrowing into his pillow.

“Heyes! Does he know something?” Kid punched him lightly in the kidneys, reminding him that he hadn’t had a trip to the outhouse.

“He thinks he does. Just keep him guessing, Kid,” Heyes muttered, “Besides, what does it matter, here? Sister already knows.”

“Just the principle, I guess.”

“That Ruth Ann.” Heyes raised himself up on his elbows, still debating the trip outside. “She’s got it in spades.”

“An’ diamonds, clubs and hearts,” Kid finished dryly. “You shouldn’t encourage her.”

“Me? You’re the one who started all this.” He smiled in the dark. “If I had a little girl, she’d be just like her.”

“No little girl of yours would have blond hair,” Kid countered. “Where are you going?” He grumbled as Heyes crawled over his legs to get out of the bed.

“Be back directly.” He waved a hand in the general direction he was heading, “An’ move over when I get back, I hate that side.

* * * * * * *

“You can feel winter calling.” Mary Moses hiked her black skirts up a little to kneel in the potato plot, shivering despite her thick sweater.

“You talk to the weather, Sister?” Kid chuckled, rubbing gun oil into the barrel of his Colt.

“I listen to it.” She unearthed several spuds, adding them to her basketful of apples and early pumpkins. “You should, too. If you and Joshua want to get out to more exciting places, you’re going to need to leave soon. One good snow and we’ll be stuck inside for the whole season.”

“Must get pretty hard up here, in December an’ January.”

“In the past, yes.” She straightened, “But this year, we’ll have more friends up here, I think.” She smiled, her plump cheeks bright red in the cold. “What you two have done is nothing short of a miracle.”

“Moses!” Kid objected. “I sat around, listening to my bones mend. Hey . . . Joshua did all the work.”

“You were going to say Heyes,” Mary Moses said with a twinkle in her eye.

“Sister Joe told you?” he asked with a strangled voice.

“We keep no secrets from the Lord, and each other.” She patted his arm comfortingly, “But who would I tell? And Jedediah, don’t sell yourself short, you did some important work, too.” She opened the kitchen door. “Coming in?”

“Still need to practice.” He hefted the pistol, “I’ll be in for lunch.”

Left alone behind the house, Kid repeatedly plugged bullets into any small object he could find. His need for perfection in the one true skill he had drove him on for several hours until he was dripping with sweat in the increasingly frigid air, and his healing wounds were aching bone deep. The last quick draw would have impressed most gunslingers, and although it was slower than he could have achieved right handed, Kid was not unhappy.

“Come in, Jedediah,” Mary Joseph commanded quietly, from the back porch. “You’ll be giving me a headache soon, with all that noise.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized instantly; aware his own head was aching some from the strain. “Where is everyone?”

“Here and there.” She ladled up a bowl of vegetable soup from the pot on the range. “Hannibal has been getting a little antsy waiting for the game tomorrow night, so I sent he and the boys out hunting. With any luck, they’ll start after a deer and be gone all day and maybe we could have venison for supper.”

“That’s optimistic.” Kid stirred the soup with his spoon to let it cool. “Heyes is barely tolerable with a rifle.”

“You looked very fast out there with your pistol.”

“It’s improving.” Kid admitted. “I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks.”

“Jedediah, you would hardly quality as an old dog,” she commented dryly, taking a mouthful of soup from her bowl.

“Sometimes I feel like one.”

“How old are you?” she asked, taking in his baby-faced looks and sweet nature, but knowing how old he had been the first time she’d met him.

“Just a hair past 31.” He spooned the vegetable soup into his mouth, “I just realized something this morning.”

“Yes?

“It hit me that Siobhan was 29 years old when she listened to her Priest, turned her back on us and sent us to hell.” He paused, uncertain how to phrase what he wanted to say. “”I couldn’t forgive her. I don’t think I wanted to.”

“But things have changed?” Mary Joseph asked quietly.

“She was my sister.” Kid swallowed some soup. “But I’m older now than she was then. I’ve never listened to anybody in my whole life except Heyes, and I don’t always do what he says. But I do know what it’s like to be in a gang. You do what the leader tells you to.”

“Are you calling the Church a gang?” She snickered.

“I guess.” He gave her a crooked smile. “I think I know why she did it. She was doing what she thought was right.”

“And forgiveness?”

“Some time along the way, that just happened,” he answered with a shrug.

“That’s how it often happens,” Joseph agreed. “It gets to be a burden carrying around all that anger.”

“Well, you pick up new anger in the strangest places, like an orphanage.” He pushed the empty bowl away. “Sister, I don’t know why you’re not mad as hell at those Shaunnessys.”

“What purpose would that serve?”

“You could get some revenge. I . . . ” He rolled his eyes at her calm countenance, “It’s not right for a nun, huh? S’posed to turn the other cheek?”

“Something like that.” She dimpled at him, “Besides, if I had known how to get . . . revenge, as you put it, what would there be left to do? It wouldn’t bring back Zebulan, or the land.”

“It might have,” Kid insisted stubbornly.

“But isn’t that what you and Hannibal came here to do?” She stood, clearing the dishes to the wash basin.

“You have an awful lot of faith in two has-been outlaws.” He chuckled.

“I have a great deal of faith in mankind, in general.” She began to rinse off the plates, a twinkle in her eye. “If that includes a gunslinger and a poker player, so be it.”

* * * *

There was no venison at dinner, but the intrepid hunters had caught a large number of trout, and this made a delicious meal. Luke had sliced the potatoes and covered them with a creamy cheese sauce, getting rave reviews from all those at the table. Just as they were clearing away the dishes, two Billings knocked on the door.

“Junior, Clarissa, come in,” Mary Moses urged, “We’ve got applesauce, it you’re hungry?”

“No thank you, Ma’am,” Abner said politely, “My Ma went into town this morning and collected the mail for you. She says to tell you that Pa’s leg is mending just fine.”

“We hardly ever receive mail.” Moses took the envelopes and newspaper eagerly, reading the names on the front. “Charles, Ruth Ann, here’s a letter from Matthew!”

“Let me read it!” The little girl dashed across the room to grab the letter from the nun, Charles following in her wake with a grin. Only he wasn’t looking at the mail.

“H’llo, Clarissa.” He inclined his head to the girl, trying to think of a topic to interest her.

“How do, Charles,” The pretty towhead answered, twisting her fingers into the folds of her lavender print skirt.

“It’s nice to see you, Clarissa.” Heyes decided to do a little matchmaking, at least to get the conversation going. “Have you seen Charles whittling? He’s been working on a cross for the chapel.”

“I’d like to,” Clarissa said enthusiastically, just as Charles had thrown Heyes a frantic look, “Is it out in the chapel?”

“Sure, why don’t you come outside? I’ll show you.” Charles gallantly opened the front door, still looking as if he were going under water for the third time.

“I’ll be along directly,” Abner called after her. “Mr. Smith, my Ma said Shaunnessy’s boasting all over town that he beat you up an’ scared you away an’ that you ain’t gonna play poker with them.”

“I just know when to pick my battles, Junior,” Heyes said carefully, “But I fully intend to be in that game tomorrow night.”

“Thank you for coming all the way up here, Abner.” Sister Mary Joseph rifled through the other envelopes Moses handed to her. “I hope your family will join us on Sunday to bless our new Chapel.”

“Ma’am, we’ll be there, even if that danged river floods again,” He replied, then looked askance. “Sorry ‘bout the cuss words, Sister.”

“No need to worry, Abner, the sentiment was sincere.” Joseph’s eyes twinkled.

“I’ll be getting’ on back home, then,” he excused himself, going in search of his sister.

“Tryin’ to set up Charles and Clarissa?” Kid teased, sitting down at the now empty dinner table with his second bowl of applesauce. “Sendin’ ‘em, outside, alone?”

“They were going out to a church, can’t get in much trouble there,” Heyes answered mildly.

“Well, some have,” Moses interjected with a grin. “But at least it’s with the Lord’s blessing.”

“Sister!” Both cousins chorused, amazed at her risqué suggestion.

“What does your brother have to say, Ruth Ann?” Mary Joseph raised her eyebrows at the raunchy discussion. “Is he doing well?”

“He’s having a fine time.” Ruth Ann ran her finger along the page of tightly written script. “He’s got a job helpin’ a doctor run a clinic for im . . . imegrants? What’s that?”

“People who have moved to the United States from other countries,” Joseph explained. “Quite an admirable job.”

“I’ll go let Charles read this, now that Clarissa’s gone.” She skipped outside, long blond braids flapping in her breeze.

“Where did Matthew and Steven go?” Heyes asked. “Seems like they left you in a lurch.”

“No, just testing their wings.” Joseph smiled, remembering her eldest boys. “Matthew’s gone to Yale. He had already been accepted when their parents died, and actually delayed his entrance to college for two years to get the others settled. He’s very intelligent and driven.”

“And Steven?” Kid asked, licking his spoon, still hungry.

“He’s a bit of a ner’e do well.” Mary Moses put in, over the edge of her new Catholic newspaper. “Likes gambling and fast living, we haven’t heard from him in quite a while.”

Kid grimaced, glancing at his cousin’s bemused expression. “Don’t expect anything much of him?”

“Oh, I have faith,” Joseph said, reminding Kid of the conversation they’d had that morning. She patted Heyes’ vested chest, “After all, look how you two turned out.”

“Sister, faith may work in the church, but in the rest of us need something more substantial.” Heyes squeezed her hand to cut the sting of his words.

“Hannibal, Faith can move mountains,” she said confidently. “And it’s never let me down yet.”

* * * * * *

There was a nervous energy around the orphanage compound on Friday morning. With the poker game looming in front of them and the imminent chapel debut on Sunday, there was lots to get done and nerves were becoming frayed.

Heyes would have left for Cottersville midmorning except that he realized opening himself up to any of the Shaunnessy’s attacks wasn’t an optimal defense. Especially after Abner Jr.’s warning, a better plan would be to arrive only minutes before the nine PM opening hand, to circumvent any dangerous situations that might arise. Still, that left hours of the day to get through.

Mary Moses had herded up the children to help her in the chapel decoration. She sent the twins and Ruth Ann to gather any autumnal flowers or pretty leaves for bouquets, leaving Zeke to pile wood for the grand celebratory bonfire.

Having finished his crucifix, Charles was trying his hand at carving a small statue of Mary. It was a momentous undertaking, and he had doubts whether he could do justice to the Mother of Jesus. He ran his fingers over the rough outline of the profile he’d created like a blind man meeting a person for the first time. Almost without looking, he let his hands whittle away small imperfections on the nose, cheeks and brow. Sitting in the last pew in the tiny chapel, Charles glanced up from his labor, watching the nuns arrange the altar.

Sister Luke smoothed the white linen she’d embroidered over the new altar, placing the salvaged gold cross squarely in the center. There was only one Bible left, which luckily had been on Joseph’s prie-dieu the night of the flood. The other nuns’ Bibles had been too damaged by water to be readable, but luckily all three sisters knew long portions of the holy book by heart. Mary Moses even wondered if she could emulate the monks of the dark ages and copy out chapters of the Bible by hand. It could be cheaper than buying more books, and might help instill the ancient stories in the children’s minds in a unique way.

She lay the last Bible carefully next to the cross, flashing a happy smile at Luke. “It looks like a proper chapel.”

The gold chalice was tucked into a side niche, ready to be used in the Eucharist. The beautifully carved wooden crucifix was placed above a collection of the candles Heyes had bought, to offer solace to those who were praying. Sister Luke immediately lit the first candle in memory of her father. She dipped her head over the flickering flame, remembering the man who had helped them start this sanctuary, knowing he was still guiding them from above.

Bringing in the bottle of holy water and blessed wine for the service, Mary Joseph paused, admiring the décor with a nod. “I am in the presence of miracles, my friends, to know that all this was accomplished from the ruins of the flood.”

“God works in mysterious ways.” Mary Moses nodded.

“His wonders to perform.” Joseph genuflected in front of the altar. “I wish that Father Lawrence could be here Sunday, but his letter said he won’t be able to come for a few more weeks.” She put down her bottles in the front pew, kneeling to give a prayer of thanks.

“Joshua.” Moses gestured him inside when he poked his head in to check out their endeavors. “Stay, we’re going to have a little informal prayer.”

“It’s been a long time since I . . . ” Heyes shrugged, coming inside in spite of himself.

“God doesn’t care when you last prayed, just that you continue talking to him.” Joseph dimpled at him, standing. She shook the still present sawdust off her surplice, “We have a lot to thank him for.”

“So do I, Sister,” Heyes agreed, sitting in a back pew while the nuns gathered up at the front of the chapel.

Without any real plan, as Joseph began to recite a short verse from the Bible, Kid and Zeke came inside, sitting in the last row next to Charles.

A feeling of peace descended on those gathered for the impromptu service, dispelling the anxiety of the last few days. The prayers gave all a renewed sense of purpose, especially giving Heyes a boost of self-confidence. He hadn’t expected this to happen, given his lack of experience with the power of faith. It surprised him that simple communal prayer could give him such a feeling of well being. Sister Joseph’s trust in her belief had once seemed overly simplistic, but he began to understand where her strength came from.

“Go with God.” Mary Moses ended the short service, following the other nuns out of the chapel.

“What are you working on?” Kid peered at the wood Charles had tucked under his arm during the prayers.

“It’s just . . . a statue.” He muttered embarrassed, starting to dig his knife into a tiny crevice. His artistic ability created a graceful sweep of a gown with only two or three slices of the blade.

“It’s Mary,” Zeke guessed. “Like the little figure in the kitchen, over the stove. That’s the same dress she has, and the same veil on her head.”

“She looks familiar.” Heyes came over to lean against the pew, watching Charles’s knife transform the wood. “It’s Sister Luke.”

“It is.” Kid scrutinized the carving with a chuckle. “That’s amazing, you caught her expression exactly.”

“Just like when she’s making somethin’ really tasty.” Zeke agreed.

“I didn’t mean to.” Charles examined the face with a plumb. “I guess she’s the only…” “Girl around here?” Heyes bit his bottom lip to stop from laughing. “Don’t worry, Charles. I expect that Clarissa may be spending more time up here, and her sisters and brothers, too, if Mary Moses starts a school for all the mountain kids.”

“Ruth Ann?” Sofia’s voice floated in from the yard. “Where are you?”

She ducked her little curly head into the chapel, surprised to see the men all sitting there. “Where’s Ruth Ann?”

“She went with you,” Zeke answered sensibly.

“I don’t know where she went.” Sofia frowned. “We can’t find her.”

“Where were you picking flowers?” Heyes pushed down the sudden feeling of dread that rushed through him.

“Out along the river.” Sofia pointed. Samuel was sitting on the ground surrounded by branches covered with red, gold and brown leaves. “We couldn’t find any flowers, just leaves.”

“Did Ruth Ann go across the river?” Charles asked in a stricken voice.

“I think so.” Sofia’s lower lip trembled, her dark eyes brimming with tears. “Where’d she go?

“Kid, c’mon.” Heyes didn’t care who heard him, his fear for the little girl escalating. “We’ll search for her. Charles, take the kids back to the house.”

“I want to go with you,” Charles insisted, Zeke nodding his head vigorously.

“Charles, you’re the only man here,” Kid said seriously, “Tell the sisters we’re looking for her and to stay inside.”

“What if she drowned?” Zeke said too loudly.

“I don’t think she did.” Heyes gave the boy’s shoulder a squeeze. “Go inside, get some lunch. We’ll be back with Ruth Ann before you cut the apple pie.”

“Charles,” Kid waited a moment until Zeke, Sofia and Samuel were nearly to the house. “Tell Sister Moses to find her old pistol. I know she has one, and to be prepared.”

“For what?” he asked fearfully.

“Nothing good.” Heyes answered in a hard voice. He strode down past the little copse of trees that hid the bend in the river nearest to the orphanage and waded across, simmering anger visible behind his black eyes.

“You think Shaunnessy grabbed her.” Kid followed his cousin across the river, picking his way carefully through the still nearly knee deep water. He stumbled on a slippery rock, jarring his bandaged right arm, but gained the far bank without incident.

“I don’t think so, I know so.” Heyes scanned the underbrush. “When the night guards prevented him from any vandalism, he struck during the day.” His throat tightened as he spoke. “So he took Ruth Ann.”

“There.” Kid pointed at fresh horse dropping under a tree only five hundred feet past the river, just off the wagon rutted road. “He waited until one of the kids came by -- probably didn’t care who.”

“She should have known better.” Heyes slapped the bark of the tree, scraping the palm of his hand. “I’m going to Cottersville,” he said with conviction, “Shaunnessy can’t get away with this.”

“I’m coming.”

Heyes swung around to disagree, point out Kid’s still healing bones, then reconsidered. He welcomed Kid’s steady presence and his six gun beside him when confronting the Shaunnessys. “I’ll saddle up both horses-you can ride the gelding. He’s got a smoother gait.”

“Thanks.” Kid nodded.

* * * * * Sheriff Taylor pressed his back against the jailhouse wall, balancing precisely on the chair’s rear legs. He appeared to be relaxing in the noon day heat, like a cat on the doorstep in a patch of sun. However, he was anything but relaxed. The undercurrent of tension in Cottersville was palpable, an ache at the base of his brain. He wanted to be ready, visible to all who passed by, and yet he wasn’t entirely sure what exactly he was waiting for.

Since he’d declared his independence from the Shaunnessy’s domineering thumb, the townspeople had become as nervous as cats in a dog pound. All waiting for the world as they knew it to explode.

After sitting for an hour without moving, he was becoming cold, despite the warmth of the sun. It was just too late in the year to be doing nothing. He stomped his feet, to improve the circulation before taking an amble along the main street, alert for any signs of trouble.

He saw Smith and Jones riding in from a long ways off, and stood in front of Mr. King’s mercantile to wait for them. Their grim faces boded no good.

“Sheriff.” Heyes dismounted, feeling slightly strange to be hailing the law. There had been a time when just seeing someone wearing a star shaped badge would have been enough to send him riding hard in the other direction. “Have you seen Ruth Ann Kinney this morning?”

“Ruth Ann?” He repeated, “I’d think you’d have seen her before I did. What’s happened?”

“She’s missing,” Heyes answered. “We rode down just after we discovered she was gone. We think Shaunnessy took her.”

“That’s a pretty serious accusation.” Andy frowned, “You got any proof before I go lookin’ for her?”

“Only some fresh horse droppings where they shouldn’t oughta been,” Kid said, “It’s not much, but everybody knows he’s been threatening Joshua, and the nuns.” He dismounted more slowly, finding the job more complicated than usual due to his bandaged arm.

“Don’t expect you to come with us.” Heyes glanced down the street in case a Shaunnessy should walk by, “Just point out their house, and we’ll do the askin’.”

“I dunno, you could be stirrin’ up a mess of trouble if you ain’t right . . .” Andy crossed his arms, still chilly. “I think I oughta come along, just in case.”

“What ever you think’s best, Sheriff,” Heyes conceded, “But I’ll do the talking.”

“Somehow, Smith, I think you usually do,” the Sheriff said dryly. “Eddie Lee Shaunnessy lives down at the end of Front Street, on the little side road. There’s only his house there, pretty much a mansion for the likes of Cottersville.” He had started walking down the street, so Heyes and Kid followed, leaving their horses tied at the horse rail. “Jimmy Joe lives just behind, in a smaller place.”

“Convenient,” Heyes muttered, gearing himself up for whatever might come. He didn’t know what to do, if the girl was there but Shaunnessy refused to give her up. He had become increasingly fond of Ruth Ann, and feared for her safety.

The Shaunnessy home would have been considered a mansion even in a town considerably larger than Cottersville. It was a turreted Victorian monstrosity, painted a garish blue and festooned with more gingerbread than the house Hansel and Gretel had snacked on.

Kid whistled. “How’d he get somethin’ like that up here in the Rockies?”

“Piece by piece with a lot of sweat,” Andy Taylor responded, pushing his Stetson back to regard the building with fresh eyes. It was truly an ugly house. “And none of it his own.”

Rapping on the ornately carved door, Heyes waited impatiently. Eventually a short, very round woman with a tight, frowning face opened the door, eyeing the three men coldly. “Yes?” she asked.

“Joshua Smith here to speak to Eddie Lee or Jimmy Joe, ma’am,” Heyes said as politely as he could muster under the circumstances.

“Regarding?”

“They’ll know.”

“Wait in the drawing room.” She gestured to an archway on the right, turning her back on them so she resembled a beruffled, stuffed pillow topped by a blond ringleted head.

“The missus?” Kid guessed.

“Elianora Marie Vincent Shaunnessy.” Andy led the way into the house, “And God forbid anyone who call her Ellie or Nora.”

Heyes and the Kid followed the sheriff into Shaunnessy’s drawing room, perching carefully on a slick horsehair sofa. The room was the epitome of Victorian splendor, crammed with far too many pieces of furniture and thick curtains over the floor to ceiling windows to keep the sun from ever brightening the permanent gloom.

Heyes had never given any thought to the fact that Eddie Lee was married, but obviously Elianora was in charge of the household. No man would ever have decorated a room like this. Gilt-framed pictures crowded every single wall, many festooned with droopy feathers and dried roses. Silk tassels dangled from the curtains, antimacassars and mantle cloth, and every flat surface was covered with china shepherdesses, prancing fauns and other breakable brickabrack.

Peering closely at a handtinted family photograph, Heyes realized Eddie Lee had two chubby sons who resembled him like peas from a pod. Sister Luke was luckier than he’d ever imagined not to have married into this family.

“You are not welcome in my home, Smith.” Eddie Lee stood firmly in the archway, hands on his ample hips.

“You may reconsider, after you hear what I have to say,” Heyes stated, “But first, where is Ruth Ann?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Shaunnessy said smoothly, “ I was under the impression that she rarely leaves the orphanage.”

“So was I,” Heyes agreed. “But she has, and I think your brother took her.”

“Jimmy Joe isn’t here at the moment.”

“Then get him here,” Kid spoke for the first time, a deadly edge to his voice.

“Your laid up friend, Smith?” Eddie Lee dismissed the man with the broken arm, turning his attention to the red haired sheriff. “Sheriff Taylor, I’m surprised to see you here. After what happened a few nights ago, I expected you to be packing your bags.”

“Then you expected wrong, Shaunnessy,” Andy said quietly, “Just answer the question. Have you or your brother seen Ruth Ann Kinney?”

“I cannot speak for my brother, but I’ll repeat myself for those of you who find it hard to understand. I haven’t seen the child.” Eddie Lee turned, waving towards the door, “Now I ask you to get out of my house.”

“We plan to wait until your brother returns.” Kid drew his pistol with just enough speed and flourish to momentarily break through Shaunnessy’s impassive exterior. Eddie Lee was impressed, but covered it quickly. “Now, if you can send somebody to get him we’d all be a lot happier. Meanwhile, Joshua has a proposition for you.”

Staring down the pistol barrel at the dangerous looking man holding the gun, Shaunnessy considered his options. He nodded briskly, calling out the name Chester in a loud voice.

“Yes, Pa?” A smaller version of his father appeared, fat face still smeared with some sticky jelly.

“Go find your uncle, and make it fast,” he commanded in a voice that bordered on threatening.

When the boy had disappeared, as quickly as his chubby body could go, the man turned back to those still assembled in the drawing room. “What exactly do you want to talk to me about? My time is valuable and I have a lot to do before this evening.”

“The poker game?” Heyes questioned. “That’s why I came.”

“You aren’t invited.”

“Aw, Eddie Lee,” Heyes coddled, feeling almost at ease with Kid’s gun at his side, “You practically begged me to play last week, what’s changed?”

“I was under the impression you were a passing gambler, I hadn’t reckoned on you sticking your nose into local disputes that are none of your concern.”

“By local disputes, I guess you mean your greedy consumption of every parcel of land around here.” The dark haired man smiled tightly, his dimples like deep grooves in his cheeks. “You’ve threatened innocent nuns, poisoned animals, injured workin’ ranchers and now kidnapped small children. I’d call that down right illegal, wouldn’t you, Sheriff?”

“I would, Mr. Smith.” Andy glanced over at the Kid. He’d been impressed by the gun draw, too, and for an entirely different reason than Shaunnessy.

“You have absolutely no proof that I was involved in any of those nefarious deeds.” Eddie Lee puffed himself up, blustering.

“But we do, Eddie Lee.” Andy smiled this time, too. “Dr. Sebastian can prove that the Sister’s cow was poisoned with arsenic, and Mr. King says Jimmy Joe bought some the day before.”

“My brother? Playing a harmless prank that got out of hand.”

“Not by my books,” Sheriff Taylor countered.

“So, I have a proposition, as Mr. Jones said,” Heyes continued. “I get to play in the game, using this as collateral.” He pulled out the deed to Zebulan McClure’s land which he’d gotten from Sister Mary Joseph before riding out. “You put up the deed to the land up there on the other side of Cotter’s river. If I win, the nuns get both pieces of property, and you get out of town and the sheriff doesn’t throw your brother in jail.”

“That’s preposterous,” Eddie Lee roared. “It’s blackmail.”

“You want their land.” Heyes shrugged. “We just want Ruth Ann.”

“What if I win?” Shaunnessy said after a moment.

“We’ll help the nuns pack up and all leave,” Kid answered. “But that ain’t what’s gonna happen.”

“Not that I think you possibly have a snowball’s chance in hell of winning this game,but I am intrigued that you think you can.” Eddie Lee crossed his arms across his wine colored vest. “So, certainly, why not? The first evidence of cheating I see, your ass lands in jail, Smith.”

“I don’t cheat,” Heyes said simply.

A noise from the front door caused Shaunnessy to hurry into the foyer to see what the disturbance was. The other three followed behind until there was a small crowd in the hallway to witness Ruth Ann come bursting inside with Jimmy Joe and Chester in her wake.

“You get your hands off me!” She shook herself free of Jimmy Joe’s hold. Ruth Ann was disheveled and dirty, but otherwise unharmed. “I tol’ you I’d call the sheriff . . .”

“Ruth Ann, is there a problem?” Taylor asked calmly.

“There he is!” The little girl announced triumphantly. Catching sight of her friends, she crowed. “Joshua, Thaddeus, did you come to get me?”

“We did, indeed.” Heyes took her hand, and she caught up the Kid’s hand, too. Just to be on the safe side.

“Found her wandering around by herself in the woods,” Jimmy Joe said self-righteously. “So I brought her here.”

“You see? Just doing what any man would do to help a lost child.” Eddie Lee said genially.

“I wasn’t lost!” Ruth Ann protested. “I wasn’t hardly past the bend in the river.”

“Does seem like a mite outta the way when the orphanage was closer by ten miles,” Kid commented holding his gun loosely in his left hand while Ruth Ann held his right hand.

“He was performing his civic duty,” Shaunnessy put in. “Taking the child to the proper authorities.”

“Didn’t come to my office,” Andy mentioned dryly.

“Did he hurt you, sweetheart?” Heyes asked.

“He made me come with him and put his ol’ bandana around my mouth!” The little girl cried angrily. “Smelled like an ol’horse.”

“Sheriff, take Ruth Ann back up the Mountain. We’ll stay for the game,” Heyes said, seething on the inside for using the child like a pawn, but outwardly calm.

“C’mon.” Andy held out his hand to the little girl, but Eddie Lee blocked the way.

“She stays -- a little guarantee that you play a fair game.”

“He doesn’t cheat,” Ruth Ann protested, looking up at Heyes for assurance, “I could, though.”

“Little girls don’t play poker,” Chester scoffed, speaking up for the first time.

“Oh, she can.” Heyes grinned devilishly. “And she’s good.”

“You -- sheriff.” Eddie Lee pointed contemptuously, “Go up there an’ tell those nuns to start packing up. When the game is over, I expect them to vacate my premises.”

Taylor didn’t move, watching the by-play between Shaunnessy and Heyes with fascination. There was no way he was going to help Eddie Lee force those nuns out.

“Feeling pretty sure of yourself.” Heyes shrugged. “It’s only midafternoon. We have a long time before the game starts. It you want to keep us all here, Ruth Ann needs some food.”

“Me, too.” Kid hissed out of the side of his mouth.

“And somewhere to rest until nine o’clock.” Heyes gave his most ingratiating smile. “’Cause you wouldn’t want to be known as a rude host. Keeping us here against our will.”

“Eddie Lee . . .” Jimmy Joe complained, “You’re takin’ orders from him?”

“He thinks he has leverage holding that deed in his hand, but it won’t last long.” Shaunnessy spread his arms, suddenly jovial. “I think we can afford to be neighborly. My wife will make some dinner. We’ll eat, like friends. Sheriff, don’t you have a town to protect?”

“Some friends,” Kid muttered. He reluctantly holstered his pistol as Taylor left, suddenly feeling self-conscious holding the gun in the middle of the house.

“I’ll send someone up to assure Sister Joe that Ruth Ann’s all right.” Taylor tipped his hat at the child and her protectors before leaving.

There was a very strained meal an hour later. Elianora’s cooking didn’t come close to what Sister Luke could have done with the same ingredients. An over-cooked joint squatted amongst a pile of limp vegetables on a hideous red and blue serving platter in the middle of a table meant to seat twelve. Eddie Lee played his part as congenial host to the hilt, encouraging his guests to eat as much as they wished. Only Chester and younger brother Hilton cleared their plates and asked for seconds, no one else had much appetite. Kid felt distinctly uncomfortable with Jimmy Joe’s blue eyes boring into him the whole time. He suspected that Shaunnessy was trying to place his face and hoped it would never come to him.

“I’d feel a whole lot better if they’d have let her go back up with Taylor,” Kid groused when the Shaunnessy family had left them alone in a small upstairs bedroom after dinner. “Maybe we could sneak her out the back . . .”

“Kid,” Heyes cut him off. “We’re on the second floor.”

“You are Kid Curry,” Ruth Ann stated flatly

“Not so loud,” he shushed.

“Zeke said you were an outlaw an’ you really are!”

“Yes, I am, Darlin’.” Kid sat down on the edge of an overly ruffled four poster bed, “Does that worry you?”

“No, you’re a good person.” Ruth Ann crossed her arms thoughtfully. “But if you an’ Hannibal Heyes stole all that money-for years, where is it?”

“That’s a good question.” Kid glanced over at his partner, who was struggling to stifle laughter. “You see, Hannibal Heyes wasn’t much for savin’ the money. He had some terrible vices . . .”

“Wild women an’ song?” Ruth Ann suggested seriously. “Jezebels.”

“Exactly.” Kid bit his lower lip to keep from laughing himself, it was such a bizarre conversation to be having under the present circumstances.

“Uh . . . Hannibal Heyes had a lot of other gang members to pay,” Heyes finally put in to his defense.

“Well, I just thought that if you did have some of that money left over, you could pay Mister Shaunnessy for the whole river an’ then we wouldn’t be in this per’dicment.”

Ruth Ann faced Heyes, obviously aware of his real name, as well.

“I’m afraid he probably wouldn’t agree to a sale.” Heyes stroked her blond hair, “But it’s a good idea, if we had that much money.”

“Can he really throw us out?” Her lower lip trembled slightly, the tension of the day finally catching up to her. “Make us leave?”

“I won’t let that happen,” Heyes stated confidently, although even he had a tiny frission of doubt. His poker playing had been fantastic lately, but every gambler had a game where the cards just didn’t go his way. Lady Luck better smile on him tonight or he’d really need to find another line of work.

“Hey, Ruth Ann, it’s a long time before the game, why don’t you lie down and get some rest?” Kid suggested, reclining in a stuffed chair. He arranged his bandaged arm over the armrest, it was aching miserably.

“A nap?” she asked disdainfully.

“Keeps the mind fresh.” Heyes agreed, looking around for somewhere to rest. He finally appropriated a few of the needlepointed pillows from the bed and made a little nest on the floor. His bruised ribs still twinged when he tried to get comfortable, though. With this example, Ruth Ann curled up on the satin covered bed and fell asleep almost immediately.

“Heyes?” Kid asked softly.

“Yeah?”

“You got any plans for after this?”

“Thinking we oughta ride out soon.” Heyes hooked his hands behind his head, staring up at the ornate ceiling. Featuring the latest fashion in plasterwork, it was the fanciest thing he’d ever seen outside of a bordello in San Francisco, and here it was hidden in an upstairs bedroom in Cottersville.

“Sister Moses said it’d be snowing soon. The mountain gets impassable,” Kid agreed. “We should wait until Monday, huh? After the chapel dedication.”

“Kid, what if we came back here?” Heyes asked thoughtfully. “In the spring? After we get amnesty?”

“What would we do? We don’t have any skills in a place like this.”

“I dunno, but I think I’d enjoy finding out.” Heyes sat all the way up, looking at his friend across the room. “I planned all those bank jobs to the letter. We may have been the most successful outlaws in Wyoming history, but we’re still broke. Maybe this time I’ll just let nature take its course.”

Kid let loose a crackling laugh, “Don’t believe it, the great Hannibal Heyes without a plan.”

* * * * * *

Just after eight thirty, a glum faced Jimmy Joe came to unlock the bedroom door. Walking behind him, Heyes noticed that he still had on the pair of star shaped spurs, and they raked jagged little furrows in the rose colored carpet with every step he took. No doubt, Elianora took a dim view of a brother-in-law who wore spurs in the house. Heyes massaged the wound on his right hand, but it hadn’t given him as much trouble as he’d thought. He’d have no trouble holding a fan of cards.

The younger Shaunnessy grumpily escorted Heyes, Kid and Ruth Ann downstairs where several men had congregated, talking. Marcus Polansky, Deck and three other men Heyes didn’t recognize looked up as they entered, all five sipping aged Kentucky bourbon.

Eddie Lee greeted Heyes like an old friend, pressing a glass of bourbon into his hand immediately. It was all incredibly false, like acting out an unfinished play, but one in which everyone had rehearsed their lines separately, so that they didn’t quite mesh.

“And one for my friend Jones?” Heyes asked frostily, glancing back at Kid and Ruth Ann.

“Anyone not joining the game is asked to wait in the smaller lounge.” Eddie Lee plastered a fake smile on his face, indicating the room across the hall.

“I want to watch.” Ruth Ann insisted, “Unless you let me play?”

“Let a child play,” a blustery man with huge mutton chop whiskers and an almost bald head harrumphed. “Why is she even here?”

“She’s a member of my family,” Heyes answered smoothly, putting an arm around her. Polansky came up behind them to offer a shot glass to Kid. “A good luck charm, you might say.”

“Well, one can understand sentiment,” the older man said. “But it’s no place for a child.”

“What’s your opinion on drawing to an inside straight?” Ruth Ann asked, periwinkle blue eyes focused on the man, “Or are you a very conservative player?”

“I feel you are being extremely impertinent!” He frowned, turning away from her.

“Jones, take the girl out of here,” Jimmy Joe ordered imperiously, over his double shot of liquor.

“Jimmy Joe, you’re the one who brought her here, now you want her to go?” Kid spoke in a quiet tone, but there was no doubt who was the more deadly of the two. “Make up your mind.”

“Thaddeus,” Heyes said softly, “Just keep your eyes on her, and stay out of trouble.”

“Not like we aren’t in up to our necks already,” Kid muttered.

“Gentlemen, the tables are set up in the library.” Eddie Lee beckoned them into a wood paneled room lined with shelves of leather bound books. Had they not been ready to play some pretty serious poker, Heyes would have loved to dive into any of the volumes and check out their contents. He’d never been in the presence of so many books before, and doubted that any of the Shaunnessys had ever even cracked the spines on any of them.

“Every man playing can deposit their entrance fees with Mr. Carmichael, our banker.” Shaunnessy held out a hand to a cadavernously thin man with three strands of pale hair across his head. The banker nodded carefully and accepted each player’s money with a receipt and doled out the correct number of chips.

With Eddie Lee directing who sat where, the players were finally seated at two round tables. There were four men to a table, and Heyes found himself seated between Deck and Muttonchops, with Eddie Lee directly across from him. Cards were dealt swiftly and playing commenced. Although Heyes had played in higher stakes games before, he was still impressed at the amounts of cash in the pot so early in the game. When he did win, he’d have enough for the nuns with a nice chunk left over for he and the Kid to travel in style.