Chapter 1

Love's Last Gift

Chapter 1

Boston, October 22, 1881

"Open the windows, Martha, and let some air in here."

The trusted house servant did as she was told, raising the heavy paned windows of the stuffy room.    The fire in the fireplace had been built much hotter than was necessary, even though the autumns in Boston were quite chilly.   But the hot fire had been necessary to boil water.   The boiling water had been necessary to sterilize everything that might be needed.  

"I can't do this,"  she gasped out between labored breaths.   "I can't.   I'm going to die.  It hurts too much.  Is it supposed to hurt this bad?"  she asked, squeezing tightly the hand of the woman who was not only one of her only remaining relatives, but who she also now thought of as her best friend.

"How should I know?  I've never done this before either.   But you're wrong.  You can do this.  Women have been doing it for thousands of years.   Most of them survived."   She looked down into the face of the woman she had come to love so dearly and she brushed the damp hair from her forehead.  "And so will you."   She locked concerned eyes with the equally concerned servant who was laying out clean towels and a sterilized needle and thread.

"Here it comes again,"   she said, panting.   "Oh, sweet Lord.   I feel like I'm being ripped in half!"

"Hold my hand.  Squeeze it as hard as you need to."

Martha rushed to stand between the naked, bent  knees of the woman she loved like a daughter.   "I can see the head.   It's time to start pushing."

"Oh, God,   I can't do this!"  

"Yes, you can.  Martha and I are not going to let you give up.  Now squeeze my hand and push!"

She bore down with everything she had.   She wanted it to be over.  She let out a scream as the pain became unbearable.  Then the pain passed and she fell back again against the pillows.

"The head is out!"  Martha announced with a smile on her face.

"Good, girl.  Just a little more and it will be over."

"One more good push is all it's going to take,"  Martha said with confidence, having been witness to this miracle several times before.

"You hear that?  One more good push and you can rest.   Now come on.   Push!!"

The push came with an earsplitting scream of agony.   Then there was silence, a think heavy silence,  as a pair of blue eyes and a pair of green ones locked in  a fearful gaze.  
 
The new mother collapsed back onto the pillows of the bed, exhausted and spent.  She had never been this tired in her life.   She lay there fighting the sleep that was pulling her into  its welcome embrace.  She couldn't sleep yet, not until she heard the cry.  When long moments passed and still there was only silence, she raised herself on shaky elbows to see what was going on.   The other two women in the room were standing with their backs to her in front of the wash basin.  What was going on?   Panic started to grow inside of her.  Why wasn't he crying?    Shouldn't he be crying.   She had never known the kind of fear she knew in this moment.   She was silently begging God to spare the tiny miracle she had just worked so hard to bring into the world  when a high pitched quivering wail split the air.  "Thank you,"   she mumbled as she fell back again against the pillows.

"Here you are, mama,"  Martha said lovingly as she placed the tiny wrapped bundle in her arms.   She pushed the covering back to reveal the head full of hair on the tiny head.   Then the tiny slits of the baby's eyes opened and looked at her.   She couldn't control the tears that began to stream down her face.  The tears were a mixture of joy and sorrow.   The joy came from holding her child that had been joyfully conceived and whom she had carried in her womb for nine months.   The sorrow came from looking at the infant with hair and eyes that were the exact same color as the baby's father.  The father her child would never know.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Laramie, Wyoming,  October 22,1881

He sat on the cold stone floor with his back against the cold stone wall.  It wouldn't be long now.  He had the timing down to a science.  He could almost count down to the moment when the sun would begin to come through the small window that was cut into the hard limestone wall.  It was a rectangular window measuring two feet long by one foot wide.  It was located high on the wall, not really allowing for a view of the world outside.  But at least you could see the sky.  The patch of sunlight would start as a narrow strip on the floor.  But as the minutes passed and the earth revolved further around the sun, the patch would grow larger.  And for the span of about twenty minutes,  he could sit on the floor in that patch of sunlight and feel it's warmth and feel almost human again.

He scooted on his rump to the spot on the floor where the patch of sunlight was beginning to form.   He sat facing the window, his arms propped up on his bent knees,  letting the warmth fill his bones.   Bones that ached from the hours of hard labor that began at day break and didn't end until late afternoon.   Being in the sun outside was different.  That was the sun of weariness and strength sapping intensity.    This was different.  This was his sunshine.  A subtle, gentle  sunshine that renewed his strength and reminded him that there was one thing that no one could ever take away from him....hope.  



It would be very easy for a man to go insane in this six feet by eight feet cell with only a sliver of the sky for a  connection to the outside world.   But he would definitely go insane when he spent each minute of every day in complete and total silence.  Prisoners were not permitted to speak.  Not to the guards, not to the warden and certainly not to each other.  They couldn't even speak to themselves.   Silence was commanded and commands were enforced.  But no amount of law or legislation could keep him from screaming aloud inside his head.  And always, everyday he screamed the same things.  "I won't stay here for long!"   "I'm going to survive this!"   "Evie I love you!"    "Please wait for me!"

Those were the things he said over and over to himself.   Here in the Wyoming Territorial Prison,  where you spent all of your time with only your own voice in your head to listen to,  all you had to do was plan.  He was working on a plan to bust them out of here.  Kid's cell was on the other side of the compound.   The warden had taken extra precautions to make sure that he and Kid were as far apart as they could be.  They had been here for almost a year and he had only seen Kid four times.  But all those times he had tried to let him know without words that he was working on a plan to get them out of here.  It was going to be difficult, but it wasn't impossible.  Especially not for a man with enough motivation.  And he had more than his share of motivation.

His life was just starting to become what he had always dreamed it would be, when he and Kid had been arrested.  There had been no dramatic hoopla. No spectacle like the day they had been spotted in Cold Springs.  He and Kid had went into a telegraph office in Rock Springs so Heyes could send a message to Evie, who had gone back to Nashville with her aunt Olivia.  He had just paid the telegrapher and stepped out onto the street when a familiar face greeted them.   It was an old "friend" they had played poker with not more than fifteen minutes ago.  They had trusted him, had felt no reason to worry, but he had turned them in to the sheriff, apparently as soon as they had walked out of the saloon.    They had been extradited to Wyoming the very next day.  Their trial had been the next week and had lasted only three days.  They were of course found guilty and sentenced to twenty years.
Evie had learned of their capture through the newspaper, and she and Olivia had arrived in Wyoming just in time to see them being taken from the courthouse and loaded into a stage  coach bound for Laramie and the Wyoming Territorial Prison.  They hadn't even let him speak to her.  She had run to him trying to see him one last time, but he had been shoved into the coach and it had driven away before he could even get a good look at her.  But he had seen her.  And he could have sworn he heard her voice, over the sound of the horses' hooves as the coach sped away,  yelling to him,  "I'll get you out of there.  No matter what it takes."

But he knew that wasn't going to happen.   But he also knew Evangeline Ruth Webb well enough  to know that she had probably exhausted every attempt to try and get him and Kid released.   But they had been in here for over a year now.  His fate was sealed.  His destiny decided.  This is where he would live the rest of his days.  If he didn't do something about it himself.  He was stuck in here and the only way he was going to get out, was to bust out.  And there was no way he was leaving Kid behind.   And pulling that off meant a very elaborate plan and expert execution of that plan.  And if he couldn't  pull it off, what's the worst that could happen?  He'd be shot trying to escape?   Maybe that wouldn't be so bad either, he thought as his little patch of sunshine began to dwindle.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


Six months later,  City of Cheyenne, Wyoming Territory

"These conditions are preposterous.   I won't sign it."

"Preposterous or not, those are the conditions.    If you choose not to sign the agreement then your friend will remain exactly where he is and I will have to come up with another clever way out of my present predicament.   Of course, now that I know your little secret and you know mine, neither of us is obligated to keep those secrets,  should you choose not to enter into this arrangement."

She heard the subtle threat behind his words, even though they were delivered with a smile.

"If you reveal my secret, sir, my life will change little.   I will merely have to endure the whispers and gossip of the local towns folk.  But if I reveal yours you will be ruined."

Deep wrinkles around his eyes appeared as he laughed at her words.  "My dear, if your secret became public, your family's newspapers would cease to sell and people would line up in droves to withdraw their money from your banks.   Believe me, you will endure much more than a few whispered tales at the church picnic.  But think of the results if you do decide to accept the terms of my agreement.    We will both have what we desire."

"Not exactly what we both desire.   We would both be settling for the next best thing."

"True.  But settling for the next best thing is far better than accepting what we both are currently forced to accept, wouldn't you agree."

He could see the indecision in her lovely young face.  He must change her mind and he must do it today.   He was going to have to use drastic measures.  "Have you ever been inside a prison, Mrs. Smith?"

She inwardly cringed as he placed emphasis  of her alias, letting her know that he knew it wasn't her real name.    "No, governor, I have not."

"Then allow me to share with you what an inmate's typical day is like.  Up before dawn, a meager breakfast of cold gruel, then out to the fields for a day of hard labor.   That's rain or shine, cold or hot.  Then it's back to your six foot by eight foot cell furnished with a rustic cot and a straight back chair,  where you will fight the rats and insects for your supper.   There you will try to sleep in a cell that is too hot in the summer and too cold in the winter.  That's life for six days of the week except for Sunday, of course, when prisoners attend church services for eight hours of the day.  And if you are a high profile inmate such as your friend, then there is a guard outside your cell door, twenty four hours a day.  That means no privacy, no chance for escape.  And all of this is done in complete silence as prisoners are not allowed to speak.   Not even to themselves.  And if one does speak without permission,  well, I won't go into details about the punishments for such an act.   How long do you think it would take a man to go mad in those conditions, Mrs. Smith?"

She felt a wave of nausea begin in the pit of her stomach.    Consequences be damned.  She would sign.   What choice did she have?   She had no choice.   She had to do this.  But first she had a few conditions of her own.   He was the one after all treating this asinine deal as a business transaction instead of the blackmail that it actually was.

"Must I live in the mansion.  Isn't there a gate house or servants quarters I could live in?"

"That wouldn't be very convincing now would it.  If I want this to work, the public must be completely convinced that this is the real thing.  If they are even suspicious that it is a fraud, then I will be ruined for sure.  No. I will not budge on that condition.  Nor will I budge on the final condition.   There can never be any contact.  No letters, no telegraphs, no secret meetings at midnight.  Nothing.  Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand.  I will sign the agreement,  but first I have a few conditions of my own."

"Yes?"

"First, I want my family to live with me if I so choose.  And if they choose not to live with me then I want them to visit whenever I want.  I want my own private suite of rooms and I want my own personal staff.   Staff of my choosing."
  
"That should not be a problem."

"And secondly,  I wish to be allowed to go there and tell him the news in person.  Considering the sacrifice I'm making, you owe me that much."

He scrutinized her face through squinted dark eyes for a moment, as if trying to see inside of her mind and discern her intentions.  "Very well.  But you will be escorted by my own people who will make sure that you breathe not a word of our arrangement.  For if you do, I will not be obligated to keep my end of he deal.  And should you break any of the terms,  the contract will be null and void.  And you understand what will happen if the contract becomes null and void?"

She merely nodded her understanding.

He dipped the end of the shiny silver pen into the ink well and extended it in her direction.  She looked at the paper in front of her and then at the pen.   She couldn't do this.  But she had to do this.  God, give me strength.  With shaking fingers she gripped the pen.  She positioned the pen above the line where she was to sign her name.  Her hand shook visibly and her breath caught in her throat as she scribbled,  Mrs. Joshua Smith across the line  at the bottom of the page.

"Please, excuse me."    Her hand came up to cover her mouth.   " I'm going to be sick,"   she blurted out as she ran for the door.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He let the  heavy hammer drop onto the stubborn rock.  How many whacks was it going to take, he thought.  With one more blow the rock split in half.  He didn't mind the hard work.  It kept his body fit and allowed him to at least be outdoors, even though it was a little chilly.  But it was April, or at least he thought it was April.  He tried to keep track of the days and months by scratching hash marks onto the stone walls of his cell.  And he could tell by the fresh blades of grass and the buds on nearby trees that it was spring.   But even if it had been below zero  or one hundred and twelve degrees, he would have been glad to be outside today.  Because today, Kid was here in the same field.  Rarely did he and Kid get placed in the same field for work.  If he was busting rocks, then Kid was usually digging them up in another field and vice versa.  But today was one of those rare days when they had been placed in the same field.  Five times.  This was only the fifth time he had seen his partner in over a year.   It was difficult to look at him being chained ankle to ankle in a single line of men, standing shoulder to shoulder,  that stretched out for half a mile.  But he tried to time his swings so that he and Kid both were in an upright position at the same time.  He stole a glance at him whenever the guards weren't looking.  He and Kid had both  grown thin, but both remained muscular, due to the strenuous work.     But gone were the golden curls he once sported.  Kid, like himself, was shorn on a weekly basis, face, head and body.  All prisoners were  relieved of all hair on their bodies on a monthly basis.  This eliminated the threat of lice which reduced disease among the inmates.  But he and the Kid weren't your ordinary prisoners.   High profile prisoners who represented a major risk for escape were shorn on a weekly basis.  That way if they escaped into the nearby towns they could be easily spotted.  It also served as a badge of honor, so to speak, among the criminal element.  All the men knew that the prisoners who got shaved weekly were the ones you didn't want to be shackled to.

He cast a sideways glance at his life long friend and silently chuckled to himself.  He wondered if he looked as silly with his shaved head.     And the poor little fellow shackled to Kid by his ankles looked like he was petrified to be next to one of the weeklies.   "You couldn't be safer than a kitten in a little girls arms,"  he silently told the frightened man, taking a brief moment to enjoy the amusement of the situation.  But his amusement was short lived as he heard the approach of a wagon.   It was too early for the wagons to come and bring them back to the compound.  That  only meant one thing.  They had come to collect some unfortunate soul who had been snitched on or caught talking or stealing food.   He felt sorry for the poor SOB already.

"Prisoners, fall in!"

At the sound of the command all hammers stopped swinging and all prisoners stepped forward to form a single line with an arms length between each man.

"Prisoner number 022440,  step out of line!"   the guard yelled.

He knew that number.  It was his number.  Kid would know  it was his number too.  They had both memorized each others numbers the day they had arrived and had been issued them.  They had never been allowed to speak to confirm that, but Heyes just knew.  He knew Kid was going to be worried.   What fresh hell was this, he thought.   Whatever they thought he had done, he would have to face the consequences of it regardless of his guilt or innocence.  He straightened his back, squared his shoulders and stepped out of the line of men who stood shackled together.   An armed guard kept his gun pointed at him while another unlocked the shackles around his ankles.   The guard motioned for him to get into the wagon.  He did so silently and without protest.   Once in the wagon his right ankle was again shackled to a three foot chain with a lead ball attached to the end.  As he sat on the back of the wagon, his eyes locked with Kid's.  He didn't like the look he saw there.   It was a look he'd seen so many times before when anyone dared to threaten Hannibal Heyes.   It was good to know that the time here had not, so far, completely  killed Kid's spirit and his protective nature.  Heyes tried to let his friend know that it would be alright and not to worry.   So he offered a weak smile and a wink of his brown eye as the wagon jolted forward carrying him towards whatever fate had in store for him.

"Back to work the rest of you!"   he heard the foreman yell as the wagon began its half mile journey back to the compound.   He never took his eyes of the back of prisoner number 022441 as he turned to begin swinging the hammer once more.  And he didn't miss the blue eyes that stole a glance over his shoulder to give him one last parting look.

When they arrived back at the compound, he was surprised when he wasn't immediately taken to his cell to await the warden or to the "box,"  the metal room where prisoners were placed for punishment.  Instead he was taken to the warden's office.   He was shoved inside the door and the door then closed behind him,  leaving the guards outside the door.   He looked around the room,  delighting in the sights of things as common as a clock and a calendar.   He had been right,  it was April.  And it was 3:00 in the afternoon.  He was so absorbed in soaking up the sight of things he had not seen in so long he almost forgot that the warden was even there, until he spoke.

"Come in, Mr. Heyes.  You have a visitor."     It was only then that he saw the man standing to the left of the warden's large wooden desk.  He was dressed in a suit and tie and stood with authority.  Heyes didn't like the looks of him.  But it was not the man the warden addressed, "Mr. Heyes has arrived."

He had not seen her behind the tall back of the wing back chair she sat in.   She arose and turned to face him.  His mouth fell open and his eyes nearly bugged out of his head.  It was her.   She was here.  His Evie was standing in front of him.   She was the most magnificent sight he had ever seen.  She was even more beautiful than he remembered.   Her skin glowed with the vigor of youth and health.  Her figure if possible had grown even more voluptuous and desirable.   She was dressed like the fine lady that she was in rich silk and lace.   Her glorious hair was arranged in an abundance of curls and ringlets atop her lovely head.  She stood out like a perfect rose among a field of dead thorns here in this place.  It had been over a year since he'd laid eyes on her.   He had been informed when he first came here that family visits were limited to only twice a year.  And since she was not technically his family,  he has assumed she would never be allowed to visit.   Everyday he had dreamed of her coming to visit him.  And today she had finally come.

She had been sitting in the chair for half an hour, waiting.   Butterflies had formed in her stomach when she had heard the sound of them coming up the hall.  Her heart nearly stopped when she heard the door open and she knew he was standing right behind her.  It had been so long since she had laid eyes upon him,  the man she loved so dearly.  She rose from the chair anxious to see that face.  The face she adored with it's shining brown eyes and dimpled smile, and the golden brown hair that fell across his forehead so endearingly.   But when she turned around her eyes were met with the sight of stranger.  The golden brown locks were gone.  His body was thin and waspish.   The black and white striped shirt and pants he wore hung from his wiry frame like rags from a pole.  And he was lowering  a heavy lead ball to the ground that was attached to a chain that was shackled to his ankle.

They both spoke in unison,  "Is it really you?"  Her voice laced with sorrow and disbelief.   His with amazement and hope.

His voice was hoarse and raspy from having been silent for so long.  His own voice sounded strange in his ears and he reflexively started to raise his hands to shield his head, expecting a punishing blow for speaking aloud.   But then he remembered that the guards were outside the door.

Evie saw the reflex and inwardly cursed every lawman and person associated with the penal system of this territory.   It also didn't escape her attention that his voice was weak and rough from being too long unheard.  She wanted to rush to him and hold him and kiss away his fears.  But she couldn't.  The man who had escorted her here was not about to let her get that close.  He had his orders.   She managed in spite of her horror at the way he looked to smile at him.   She hoped he saw in her eyes how much she loved him.

"You may speak to the lady, Mr. Heyes.  There will be no repercussions,"  the warden told him knowing he had questions that needed answering.

Heyes cleared his throat before he spoke.  There were so many questions he wanted to ask.  He spoke in a low, slow voice,  "What are you doing here?"

"I've come with good news.  News I wanted to give you personally. You have been pardoned.  The governor signed the papers just this morning.  He very graciously allowed me to come and give you the good news in person."

His eyes darted among the other three faces in the room.  He didn't know what to think.  Was this for real?    He didn't trust anyone  except Kid Curry and the woman in front of him.   He had to believe in that trust now.   "Pardoned?"  he asked with reservation.

"Yes.  He sincerely regretted that he didn't grant you the amnesty before you were arrested and he felt you have been in here long enough to pay your debt to society.   You are free."

"That's right, Mr. Heyes,"  the warden said.  "I have all of the necessary paper work here and this gentleman has come as the governor's personal representative.   It is all legitimate, I assure you.  You will be released immediately."

Bubbles of joyful laughter grew inside of his belly.  They started to rise up in his throat.  He was going to leave this place today.    He was going to walk out of here a free man courtesy of the governor himself.   He wouldn't have to spend hours trying to figure out a way to get them out of here.....His face was suddenly crestfallen and the bubbles of laughter burst leaving behind the laughter to fall unheard to the bottom of his chest.  

Evie saw the momentary elation followed by the devastated downfall of his face.  "Jed is leaving today, too,"  she added quickly, knowing that his concern for his partner was on his mind.

And that's when she saw it.   The sparkle of light in the chocolate brown eyes.  The grin that began slowly and grew into a broad full on smile.  And the dimples that seemed even larger in the hollows of his thin face.

"Guards!"  the warden summoned the men from outside the door.  "Remove the shackles from Mr. Heyes' ankles please."

He couldn't take his eyes off of her as the men removed the restraint from his ankle.   He could only imagine how he must look to her.  But he didn't care, because he knew that she loved him no matter what.  She must have worked so hard to get him released.  And not just released, pardoned.   At last his life would be what he had always hoped.   As soon as these shackles were gone he would go to her and hold her.   His arms ached suddenly to feel her there.   But before the shackles were removed, the suited gentleman came to Evie and grasped her upper arm.  Heyes brows came together in question.
 
"Please remain in my office, Mr. Heyes, while Mrs. Smith is escorted out of the compound."

Mrs. Smith?   Why was she using his alias?    The suited man walked Evie to the door and would have ushered her right past him, had she not forcefully stopped.   There were pools of tears in her eyes as she laid a gentle hand against his cheek.  She let her hand linger on the smooth, clean face, tanned from hours of hard labor in the fields.   There was something in her eyes that bothered him.  He couldn't quite put his finger on it.   He brought his hand up to cover hers as it rested against his cheek.    The suited man then urged her out of the doorway.   His hand caught hers and held it tight until they were grasping by mere fingertips as she was being practically forced from the room.  And without a word she was swept away and out of his sight.  
 
Evie as practically dragged to the private coach that awaited outside the tall iron gates of the Wyoming Territorial Prison.   The governor's thug fairly lifted her through the doorway of the coach before closing the latch and moving to sit on the top with the driver.  Once she was alone inside the coach she lifted the red velvet curtain from the window and watched as the high stone walls of the prison faded in the distance.   It was only then that she let the tears fall.  What had she done?  She slid from her seat and laid her head on the velvet cushioned seat and cried.  Her only solace....the knowledge that her beloved would soon be out of that horrid place.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


He waited outside the iron gates for what seemed like an eternity.   He had been escorted out by the guards not long after Evie had left.  He had assumed she would be waiting for him outside the gates.  He had almost floated out thinking about seeing her and holding her at last.  But when he was shoved outside the gates like a sack of bad feed all he found was the same dirt road that had brought him here over a year ago.  Why hadn't she waited?   And where had she gone?  And who was the man escorting her?   There were so many questions he wanted answered.   And he couldn't find the answers until he found Evie.  And he couldn't do that until Kid was released.   As if hearing his thoughts,  the heavy iron gates squeeked and  swung open.    A confused but nonetheless happy, Kid Curry stepped through the gates, dressed in the same set of clothes as Heyes.  Every prisoner who was released was issued a standard set of clothes and shoes.  All the belongings they had when they had been brought to prison had long since disappeared to who knew where.  Heyes didn't figure he would ever see his brown three piece suit and derby hat again.  But that didn't really matter.  He was free.  Free to wear anything he wanted, or nothing at all.   And nothing at all would have been preferable to the itchy clothes he and Kid wore now.   They each wore a pair of brown moleskin pants and a plain white linen shirt.  Their feet were covered with second hand well worn boots that didn't fit well.  As the sound of clinking metal came from the other side of the closed gates,  Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry stood and stared at each other.  They just stood there looking each other up and down.  

"Well,  say something,"   Heyes finally said to his friend.

Kid cleared his throat, not fully trusting his  unused vocal cords to work.  "Boy, I hope I don't look as stupid as you do with that bald head and those ugly clothes."

Laughter erupted from both men as they grabbed each other in a bear hug.
  
"How did this happen, Heyes?   How did we just get released like that?"

"We've been pardoned, Kid."

Kid stared at his partner in disbelief.  "Did you say pardoned?"

"That's right.  Evie was here.  She was the one who came and told me the good news."    Heyes turned and scanned the area.   "I thought she would be waiting here for me, but some man was with her and ushered her out.   I guess she's waiting for us down in Laramie."

"Well, let's get walking then.   Laramie's only a few miles from here.  I sure hope Livvy's with her.  And I hope she's buying supper, cause I'm starving."

Heyes put his arm around his friend's shoulder.   "I sure am glad that your time behind bars  hasn't changed your appetite, Kid.   I was worried that having to live in all that silence and in those conditions might alter your state of mind.   I can't tell you how much I worried about that.   And you know I was working on a plan to get us out of there.   It wasn't going to be easy but it was possible.  It probably would have taken about ten years to pull it off but I think I could have done it.  Did you ever think about busting out?   I know you probably thought about food all the time, cause I thought about it a lot myself and I don't love food the way you do. So....."

"I'm glad to see that your time behind bars didn't change your need to talk my head off.   Are you going to stand there all day and blab or are we going to Laramie?"

Heyes just stared at this friend for a long moment.  "Don't get proddy, Kid."

Kid put his hand against Heyes' back and gave him a gentle shove  and they started their walk towards Laramie.  They strolled leisurely along, enjoying the feel of the sun on their faces.  Again this sun was different.  This was the sun of freedom and open spaces.  More than once they found themselves looking at each other and bursting into laughter.  They were free men.  Free to go wherever they wanted without fear of being arrested. gotten far when an old man bent over from age, appeared in the dirt road ahead of them.   "Smith and Jones?"   the old man asked.

The boys exchanged looks.  "Who's asking?"   Kid asked.

"Name's George.  George Poteet.   I was asked to find two fellas name of Smith and Jones coming from the prison on this road.  And I was asked to give them this.   He extended his weathered hand which held a white envelope.  On the front in an unfamiliar hand was written Mr. Smith and Mr. Jones.

"Who gave this to you?"  Heyes questioned the old man.

"Pretty lady in town.  Said it was urgent I find you two before you made it all the way to town.   She paid me a handsome sum for my troubles too."

"Thank you , Mr. Poteet.  That was mighty neighborly of you."

The note was short and sweet.  "Go east about three miles and find an apple grove.  There is a whitewashed fence there.  Wait.  Someone will meet you there and you will have the answers."

The boys walked east and found the grove of blooming apple trees.  They leaned against the white washed fence and waited, enjoying the scent of the blooming trees.   They didn't wait long when the sound of someone approaching was heard in the grove of trees behind them.   A young boy of about thirteen emerged from the trees, leading two horses.   "You Smith and Jones?"  he asked timidly.

"That's us."

"Which one of you is Smith?"

"That would be me."

The boy handed Kid the reins and Heyes another letter and backed away from them like they each had two heads.    This letter had no writing at all on the envelope, but when he removed the letter he recognized Evie's handwriting immediately.    At last, he thought, he would learn where she was and where he could join her.   He looked up to see that the boy was turning tail to run.  "Hey,  boy, don't go anywhere.  I might want to talk to you."     The boy stiffened and stood still in his tracks.  Heyes  began to read:

"My Beloved,

  If you are reading this then you have been released from that horrible place and my messenger has found you.   I know that you have many questions and I wish I could answer them all.  But I cannot.  The only thing I want you to know is that I have always loved you and I will always love you.  You are free now and your freedom is my gift to you.  My last gift.   In order for you to remain free,  I must never have contact with you or Jed again.   Please do not try to find me.  It would only result in your being sent back to prison and I don't think I could live knowing you were back in that place.  Remember that time and distance  cannot keep two hearts that love each other apart.   When I fell in love with you it was for eternity.   I breathed you into my soul and there you will always remain.  You will be always in my heart and a part of my very being.  Please do not be angry with the decision I have made.  As you once had to do,  I have made the decision that is best for you and your future, regardless of how painful it may be for us both to live with.  But living without you and knowing you are free is preferable to living without you knowing you are locked away in a prison of stone as well as a prison of silence. Please give Jed my love and both of you please take care of each other.   You will find another envelope with cash inside one of the saddlebags.   I know Jed is probably hungry.  I also left you a small piece of myself that you can have as a remembrance of the love that we shared and that I will always feel.  

No matter where you go or what you do, always remember that I am a part of you and you are a part of me.  Nothing...not time, distance or circumstance will ever change that.   I love you, now and always.  This is the last time you will ever hear from me on this side of heaven.  So until we meet again in God's eternity, farewell, my beloved.

With love,

Your Evie

The look on Heyes' face told Kid that something in the letter was not good.

"Aw, no.  What's it say?"  Kid asked, but got no reply.  "Heyes?  What's it say?"
 
Heyes turned silently and handed the letter to his partner the went to the horses the boy had handed to Kid.  As Heyes began a feverish search of the saddlebags, Kid read the letter.  When he was finished he looked at his partner.  He had turned both both sets of bags out onto the grass and was combing through everything.

Heyes rummaged through the contents of both sets of saddlebags.  There were clothes and toiletry items and the envelope with one hundred dollars cash.  But where was the part of her she was speaking of.  He was hoping it was really another letter, telling him to meet her in some secret, private location where they wouldn't be seen, and all this espionage was just a front.  But his search was turning up nothing.  He was about to give up looking when he saw it.  It had gotten trapped between the folds of a blue shirt.   He lifted the folds of the material and picked up the lavender cord with care.  The cord had been carefully wrapped and knotted in the center around a lock of shiny, soft brown hair.   His heart sank a little.  So there was no plan to meet him.  She really did mean to never see him again.  And she was leaving him this to remember her by.  I'll be damned, he thought,  if she thinks I'm just going to accept this and move on without even questioning it.

"What does this mean, Heyes?    Is she serious?   I don't understand any of this."

"Hey, kid!  Come  here!"   Heyes yelled for the boy who stood statue stiff among the trees.

The boy approached Heyes cautiously and spoke with a quivering voice,  "Yes, sir?"

"Relax.  We're not gonna hurt you.  Did a lady give you that letter?"

"Yes, sir."

"What did she look like?  Was she young and pretty?  Brown hair and silvery blue eyes?"

"No sir."

"Was she a pretty blonde lady with bright blue eyes,  kinda short?"   Kid asked the boy.

"No, sir.   She was older.  She had red hair and she reminded me of my granny."

The boys swapped the same confused look.   "Was she alone or was somebody with her?"

"Nope. She was alone."

"Did she say who had given her the letter?"

"No, sir.   She just stopped me in the street and asked me if I had anything to be doing today.   Then she gave me a silver dollar to come out here to the orchards and wait for two men named Smith and Jones.  I was to give the horses to the one named Jones and the letter to the one names Smith.   That's all she said."
 
"She didn't say anything else?    You're not supposed to let her know if you found us or not?"

"Oh, yeah!   When I get back to town, I'm supposed to meet her and let her know that I delivered the stuff to you then I get another silver dollar."

Heyes smiled.   "You meeting her in Laramie?"

"Yes, sir.   At Miss Minnie's cafe."

With that the boy sprinted off towards Laramie, anxious to collect the rest of his pay.

"Well, Kid, I hope your in the mood for some food from Minnie's cafe.  Cause that's where we're going."

While Heyes had questioned the boy, Kid had been changing out of the itchy prison clothes and into the clothes that Heyes had dumped out of the saddlebags.  Evie, or whoever had given them the horses, had left clothes and money in the saddlebags.     "Sounds good to me, Heyes.   And look,"   Kid said with a grin as he held up his floppy brimmed, concho trimmed hat,   "she kept our hats.  Your hat is hanging on your saddle horn too."

"She must have claimed our belongings after we were shipped out to prison,"  Heyes mused as he stripped off the crudely made brown pants and white shirt.

 As he stood there in the open field with apple trees in bloom behind him and the fading afternoon sun in front of him, he felt an avalanche of emotions descend upon him.     He was free.   The warm sun on his bare chest punctuated the fact that he could run naked through this field right now and scream at the top his lungs if he chose to.   He smiled at himself.   He let his bare toes squish in the soft blades of grass under his feet.   He looked at Kid who was staring at him as he stood there in his long underwear.   He couldn't resist.   He took off like a shot and ran as hard as he could across the open field.    The sun on his face, the wind against his skin, the grass beneath his feet......he was free.   He opened his mouth and let out a whoop  and a yell.    It had been so long since he had even been able to speak, let alone scream or yell,  it felt like the release of years of pent up anger and frustration.

He ran back to where Kid still stood watching him.   He was out of breath, he felt like his lungs were on fire and the soles of his feet throbbed and stung.   But he was free.  His brown eyes twinkled as they captured the blue ones of his partner and best friend.   As they had always been able to do,  they communicated without words.  In a matter of seconds,  Kid's shoes and shirt were both discarded and the two former outlaws were in their underwear, running in the grass, screaming and laughing like children.   Like free men.   Because that's what they were.

But the sweet taste of freedom left a bitter aftertaste in Heyes mouth when he thought about his sweet Evie.  What had she done?   She would never have given up on them so easily.   She would never have sacrificed their love without a very good reason, or unless she was being forced.  He had a feeling she had made some sort of deal to gain their freedom.  She had sacrificed their relationship and their future in order to make sure that he could be free.   He was going to get to the bottom of this if it was the last thing he ever did.  Even if it meant losing that freedom.




Please be so kind as to let me know what you think.   I hope you all liked it.  

Thank you to all of my loyal fans and readers.  You are an inspiration to me.

~Karen  :')