Second Chances

Part One – Revelation

Silver Springs, New Mexico.

Five years after Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry

were granted amnesty by the governor of Wyoming.

"Excuse me," the man said quietly and cleared his throat. He looked around nervously as though being in a bar was not something he was accustomed to.

"Excuse me, are you Hannibal Heyes?" he repeated, in a slightly bolder voice.

The dark haired man who sat sipping a whiskey at the bar turned to see who had just called his name.

"That's me," he replied in a pleasant, though not particularly friendly tone. He took another swallow of whiskey and continued to look down into his glass

"Who are you, the mayor? Or one of the city councilmen?" he asked finally, when the other man remained silent.

"What? Oh, no, I'm not," the smaller man answered nervously. "Do you mind if I sit down?"

The former outlaw shrugged and studied the other man for a moment. He appeared to be about forty years old with light brown thinning hair. He wore a brown three-piece suit and small round spectacles rested on his nose, which gave his face a look that said "banker" or "accountant."

"Suit yourself," Heyes said, mentally dismissing the man and returning his attention to the whiskey glass that was now empty. Catching the bartender's eye, he motioned for a refill. He had grudgingly accepted the fact that most towns were inhabited by a few who were looking to make a buck off having Hannibal Heyes come to town. It started shortly after the amnesty. He had begun to notice that when he sat down at a poker table – especially one where the stakes were high – men seemed to come out of the woodwork to watch him play.

The townsfolk began to notice things too. When Hannibal Heyes was in town to play poker, more hotel rooms were rented, more drinks were sold and more dollars were spent in the other retail stores as well. It hadn't taken long before he began receiving invitations. He had been offered free room and board, free drinks, and once he had even been offered five hundred dollars to play in a Saturday night poker game.

At first, the Kid had been amused. "This is the life," he had said. "People are actually paying you to come and take their money." It hadn't taken long however, for Curry to notice that he was considerably less welcome in those same towns. While Heyes attracted a crowd that was fascinated with his card skills and stories of the outlaw trail, Curry attracted a different sort of crowd – one that most townsfolk were not so anxious to encourage.

"Well, if you were looking for me, you found me," Heyes said impatiently after noticing that the man had taken a seat next to him at the bar and ordered a drink.

"Actually, I was hoping you could tell my where I might find Kid Curry," the man said hesitantly.

Heyes stiffened and turned slowly to face the man seated next to him. There were usually two kinds of men that asked after the Kid. The first expected him to do gun tricks like some damned circus bear­­ – the second wanted to be the man that outdrew Kid Curry. Heyes surmised that this spectacled little man belonged to the first group.

"Go find your entertainment somewhere else," he told the man coldly and stood to leave.

"What? What are you talking about?" The man seemed genuinely confused.

"Excuse me, I've got to be heading out," Heyes said roughly and continued toward the door.

"Please, I must speak to him. It's a personal matter," the man pleaded.

Heyes stopped halfway to the door and turned around slowly. "Who are you?" he asked looking back at the stranger. "Do I know you?"

"No, Mr. Heyes, we've never met. I've never met Mr. Curry either but, like I said, it's a personal matter and I would genuinely appreciate it if you would tell me where I could find him."

"Well if you've never met him how can you have anything personal to discuss?" Heyes was feeling a growing sense of uneasiness over what this man wanted with the Kid.

"It's regarding a – ah – mutual friend," the man said hesitantly.

"Look, whatever you've got to say to the Kid you can say to me. I'm tired and I'm in no mood to play games." Heyes was beginning to lose his patience.

"It's about – Catherine Walker. Do you remember her Mr. Heyes?"

Heyes' heart skipped a beat as he drew in a quick breath and stared back at the man in surprise. A picture of a seven-year-old girl with blonde curls came to his mind.

"I remember a little girl in Arizona, about six – seven years ago. What about her?" Heyes stepped closer to the man and leaned in so that his face was only a few inches from the other man's.

Most men would have been intimidated by the look in the former outlaw's eyes, but this stranger only took a slow breath and responded quietly, "Why don't we sit down and finish our drinks, Mr. Heyes?"

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Kid Curry walked anxiously down the street toward the Wild Horse Saloon, glancing to his left and right as he walked. He wasn't worried about Heyes – not really. He was sure his partner was fine. Heyes had wanted a quick drink at the saloon but the Kid had gone straight to the hotel so he could check in and order a bath. Curry had expected his partner to arrive by the time he had shaved and changed, but he'd been waiting over an hour and Heyes still hadn't turned up. He was sure that Heyes had gotten himself into a poker game, or maybe started telling stories to some of the patrons and lost track of time, but old habits die hard.

Curry still felt the need to watch Heyes' back, even though no one had tried to do him any harm in quite a few years. The same can't be said for me, he thought wryly to himself. There were still men who wanted to challenge him to the draw. Some were outlaws or ex-lawmen with an old grudge, but most were younger men figuring that the Kid was past his prime and hoping to make a name for themselves. I may not be wanted, but I don't exactly have a fresh start either. He gave a long sigh and turned the corner and quickened his pace. He remembered that the saloon Heyes had gone into was just one block up.

Continuing to scan the street as he walked, he caught sight of a woman on the other side and came to an abrupt halt. It couldn't be. It couldn't possibly be her. Curry stood there almost forgetting to breathe as the woman turned and caught sight of him. She seemed relieved to see him, not surprised or shocked as he would have expected. She gave a quick look up and down the street and then stepped out to cross.

Curry could only stand on the boardwalk with his jaw dropping as she headed straight for him. He wasn't at all sure what to make of this. The last time he had seen Eliza Walker, she had been married to a sheriff who had arrested and beaten him. The man had been bitter and angry and Curry was sure that he had intended to kill him. Before it was over, Eliza's husband was the one who ended up dead and he and Heyes had been responsible.

"Hello Jed," she said nervously glancing at his face and then looking away.

"Eliza." Curry acknowledged with a nod.

He was suddenly glad that he had taken the time to bathe and shave before heading out onto the street.

"How… how have you been?" he asked tentatively. She looked good. Her long brown hair was pulled attractively up on her head with a pretty jeweled pin. Although over thirty now, she was even more attractive than he remembered. Her green eyes were warm and bright and reminded him of the way she had looked as a young girl. Curry had worked briefly for her father for one summer many years ago, before he had started riding with the Devils Hole boys. He didn't live with too many regrets, not for the robbing or even most of the times that he'd had to use his gun, but he regretted the way he had left Eliza.

"You look great," he heard himself saying before he could stop himself.

She blushed and looked up. "Thank you. It…it was hard at first, but then it got better. Things have gone very well in fact." She smiled for a moment but then her face clouded. "All except…" She faltered for a moment as though trying to decide whether or not to finish, and then abruptly changed her tone.

"How have you been?" she asked brightly. "I heard about the amnesty. I'm happy for you. I was glad to hear that you wouldn't go to prison… it's sort of like what you and your cousin did for me, gave me a fresh start." She searched his face for a moment to see if he understood what she was saying.

His face was blank and she continued.

"I didn't realize how unhappy I was, how horrible Jake was, until after I was on my own for a while and then…I realized that I'd been slowly dying inside. One day I woke up and realized that I could live again. I could even be happy." She smiled at the memory. "Well, it looks like we've both been given a second chance for happiness."

A smile crept onto Curry's face as he listened to her. Maybe so Eliza, maybe so…

She looked up at him expectantly, obviously wanting to hear what he had done with his life since the amnesty.

Curry shifted uncomfortably, not sure what to say. He was surprised that just seeing her again could begin to stir feelings in him that he had thought were long gone. Looking at her now he began to think that perhaps he did have a reason to look forward to the future.

"How's your little girl?" he asked, not ready to turn the subject back to himself just yet.

"She must be pretty grown up by now."

"Yes, she…she certainly is growing up. She…" Eliza looked down.

"How are you?" she asked, shifting the subject back to him again.

"I'm doing alright. Heyes and me, we bought ourselves a little ranch in Utah. We've got a few horses. I've been spending some time working with them, getting some good breeding lines going." In truth, the horses were proving to be better company than most of the people he ran into so he'd taken to spending more and more time alone on the ranch. Heyes still traveled frequently to play cards and gamble. Most of their income came from Heyes' winnings, but he told himself that once the ranch became established, that would change.

"In fact, that's why we're here. We got a telegram from a man who wanted to see us about some horses. A man named Wainwright, maybe you know him?"

Eliza abruptly lowered her eyes and swallowed. "Well, actually…that was..."

Curry looked up and saw Heyes walking toward them in the company of slightly shorter man in a brown three-piece business suit.

Following his gaze, Eliza watched the men approach with a look of relief.

Heyes looked from the Kid to Eliza and back to the man walking next to him. He had a distant look in his eyes that Curry recognized immediately as a dilemma that Heyes was wrestling with.

As the men approached, Eliza reached out her arms and smiled as she joined hands with Heyes' companion.

"Jed," she said turning, "I'd like you to meet my husband, Joseph Wainwright."

Curry looked in shocked surprise at Eliza and her husband. His jaw dropped and he felt suddenly embarrassed by the thoughts he'd been having.

"Jed, don't worry, Joseph is nothing like Jake," she said giving her husband a warm smile.

Curry continued to look at the others nervously and had the awkward sensation of being the only one in the group who didn't know what was going on.

"I want to apologize for getting you here on false pretenses, Mr. Curry. We didn't want to go into detail in a telegram or letter, and we wanted to be sure that you would come." Wainwright smiled reassuringly.

Curry resisted the temptation to retreat and forced himself to shake hands with Eliza's husband. He glanced to Heyes for answers, but Heyes only returned a stiff smile and looked down uncomfortably.

"Eliza, have you told him yet?" Wainwright asked gently.

"No. We just started to talk."

"Told me what?" Curry asked, not sure whether he wanted to know.

"Why don't we all sit down and talk," Wainwright said, nodding toward a little cafe on the other side of the street.

A few minutes later they were seated around a small corner table in the cafe.

"Eliza and I were married four years ago," Wainwright began, glancing at Heyes and Curry. "We had met a year or so before when Eliza began making dresses for my mother. She's really quite talented," he added, giving his wife a warm smile.

"Joseph has taken some dresses that I made to Santa Fe to sell in a Ladies Dress Shop there," Eliza added proudly.

Curry smiled politely and gave his partner a nervous glance.

"I suppose you're wondering what this has to do with you?" Wainwright asked and Curry glanced up in surprise.

"Well, yeah, you send us a telegram saying you want to talk about buying some horses and we get here and you tell us it's all just some story to get us down here. I'm about ready to get back on the next stage if you don't start giving us some answers." Curry was becoming agitated and shot his partner a silent plea for backup. Heyes' silver tongue had been conspicuously absent since they had sat down.

"Kid, just listen to what they have to say," Heyes said quietly.

Curry gave his partner a scowl and returned his attention to Eliza's husband.

Wainwright glanced at his wife, who took a deep breath and looked at Curry.

"Jed," she began. "When I was married to Jake, I'd just about lost all faith in men to take care of Catherine and me. Lost faith in men period." She let out a sigh.

Curry looked down and closed his eyes, knowing that he was partly to blame for that.

"After Jake was killed, I wanted to be free to take care of Catherine by myself. I didn't want to be disappointed again. I didn't want Catherine to be disappointed." She looked up apologetically. "I was afraid that if you knew…you wouldn't leave…that there would be more trouble and…I was afraid." Her voice had dropped almost to a whisper and her husband took her hand in hers for support.

"Mr. Curry, what my wife is trying to say is that she knows it was wrong of her not to be honest with you and she is asking you try and understand, and forgive her."

"Understand?" Curry was staring at them in astonishment. "Eliza…what are you talking about?"

"Jed, Catherine is your daughter," Eliza stated flatly and waited for his reaction.

Curry stared back in shock as the words hit him. All these years…He swung a quick look at Heyes but the look on Heyes' face told him that this news was not a surprise to him.

"Does she know? About me?" His head was spinning. He had a daughter…he was a father….

"No, she doesn't know, she still thinks Jake was her father," Eliza said almost bitterly.

Curry's face twisted. "Then why?" he shouted back angrily. "You're married now, you're happy – she has a new father. Why are you telling me this now?"

"Kid," Heyes put a hand on his friends shoulder.

"What?" Curry glared at Heyes and then back at Eliza. "Why did you send for me?"

"Catherine isn't…happy. In fact, she's very angry. I never told her that Jake wasn't her father. I thought it would be best if she just thought her father was dead. I thought she could move on. I never dreamed she would stay angry–that she would blame me–grow to hate me." Eliza stopped abruptly as tears filled her eyes and she looked away.

"You never get over the murder of your parents," Curry said almost to himself.

Wainwright spoke up. "She remembers you two coming back to the house, after Jake was shot. She remembers that you were both hurt, that Eliza helped you. She figured out that you were the ones that killed her father and she didn't understand why her mother would help you. Eliza never told her what Jake was like, and since she was so young at the time she didn't understand."

Curry nodded gravely. "So we murdered her father, and then her mother protected us."

"Not we, me. I shot him. You were tied up at the time, remember?" Heyes interjected.

"Doesn't matter, it was all because of me anyway," Curry said bitterly.

"Look, gentlemen, none of us can change what happened. But we're very worried about Catherine. We hoped – I hope – that if she heard the whole story from both of you." He looked from Curry to Eliza. "Maybe she can understand why you did what you did. If she learns that Jake wasn't really her father – that her real father is alive­ – well maybe she wouldn't feel quite so lost."

Curry looked back at Wainwright and could see the man's sincerity in his face.

"Okay, I'll do whatever I can to help, but I don't know if it'll do any good," Curry said after a moment.

"Thank you, Mr. Curry, would you be able to come to our home tomorrow afternoon?"

"I'll be there…and…thank you," he said to Wainwright, standing to shake his hand. "Thank you for taking care of Catherine and…I'm very glad that Eliza found a good man." He had to admit to himself that no matter what hopes he'd had when he first saw Eliza, he could see that she had made a good choice.

Curry glanced at Heyes and the two turned and walked out of the café.

After walking the two blocks to their hotel in silence, Curry stopped and faced Heyes.

"Guess that was a pretty big shock, huh? Finding out after all these years that Catherine really was my daughter after all?" Curry's face was cold as he looked into his partner's face and waited for the answer. The answer he'd seen in his partner's eyes in the restaurant, the answer he's heard in his silence on the street.

Heyes returned his partner's look and replied solemnly, "No, it wasn't a surprise."

A look of betrayal showed briefly before being replaced by one of rage. 'Heyes, how could you keep something like that from me?" he demanded, fighting to restrain his fury. "We're partners. At least I thought we were. You were the one person I thought I could count on – the only person I could count on!"

"It's because we're partners that I didn't tell you," he replied crossing his arms.

"You want to explain that Heyes? Did you think that it might mess up the amnesty? That I might stay with them and leave you? Or did you think it would be dangerous? Was that it? You thought you might get caught?" Curry's hands were balled into fists at his sides and he looked as though he were trying to decide what to do with them.

"You know better than that. I didn't tell you because Eliza asked me not to. Did you expect me to break my word to her?"

"Since when was keeping your word, more important than saying whatever got you what you wanted?" Curry sneered.

"Under the circumstances, I thought it was best," Heyes responded, his voice displaying irritation.

"For who Heyes? You? 'Cause it wasn't best for me – and it sure as hell doesn't sound like it's done her much good!

"Best for all of us! How was telling you going to help her? You were a wanted man, or have you forgotten?" Heyes glared at the Kid.

Curry glared back at his partner. "I left her 'cause of you, you know. I figured you'd end up dead without me to fight your battles for you," he continued angrily.

"You could have left anytime, partner. I don't need you to fight my battles," Heyes said sharply.

"Since when? Or are you too stupid to know you weren't good enough to take care of yourself! How many times Heyes? How many times did I face some gambler or outlaw who wanted to challenge you?!"

Heyes stared at his cousin in disbelief.

"And you keep me from my own child! Make her grow up without a father – just like –"

"Just like what, Kid?" Heyes cut in angrily. "Like you? Is that what this is about?"

Curry's right hook caught him by surprise and he staggered back.

"If you're as smart as you think you are, you'd better get away from me Heyes– before I do something I'll regret," Curry growled dangerously, his hand hanging near his gun.

Heyes stepped back in shock and rage, thinking for the first time in his life that his cousin and best friend might actually shoot him in anger.

"Well at least I'm not stupid enough to think of shooting my partner!"

"Heyes you better stay outta my sight from now on." Curry turned his back and started walking. "I'll go get a room at another hotel down the street," he said flatly.

"Forget it Kid, I'll get my own room, I wouldn't want to put you out," Heyes shouted and stared after him as he turned the corner and headed back toward the saloon.

How could the Kid think that I wanted it to turn out this way? The damned idiot. Heyes sighed, releasing his anger, and slumped against the street post. When he had seen through Eliza's story that Catherine's father had been a cowboy she met after the Kid left town, she had insisted that he not tell Curry. Against his protests, she'd insisted that she would never let an outlaw be her child's father. As far as she was concerned Curry had made his choice and the Kid had no right to be a part of Catherine's life. He'd thought about telling the Kid anyway, but he could only see it bringing Curry more heartache. After all, he'd already lost one family, how much can one man take? If anything happened to Eliza or Catherine because of him? I never meant for it to turn out this way.

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Kid Curry awoke the next morning with the dreary feeling that usually followed a night of little sleep. From the look of the sun beating in through the half pulled blinds, it was well into the morning.

Well, that figures. After the argument he'd gone back to the hotel, not wanting to run into Heyes again and not feeling like sitting in a crowded room of strangers either. He'd lain awake most of the night unable to sleep, which was unusual for him. The events and revelations of the day had kept replaying in his mind in an endless cycle.

Who was right and who was wrong? What should Eliza have done – Heyes have done – he have done differently? What would have been the right thing to do fifteen years ago – five years ago – what is the right thing to do now? His head began to hurt again. He didn't usually spend much time thinking about questions like that. That was Heyes' job. Heyes… He shook his head and got out of bed. No, he didn't usually spend this much time thinking. He was a man of action. He usually saw things as black or white. Whatever kept him alive was right. There hadn't been much time to dwell on which action to take when he'd been running from the law. He usually just went with instincts, or Heyes' plans. He'd always trusted Heyes to figure out what was best for them. When had that changed?

With a long sigh, he started picking is clothes up and getting dressed. His thoughts returned to the present and the day ahead of him.

The prospect of seeing and talking to the daughter that he never knew he had was both enticing and terrifying at the same time. For most of his life he had faced new situations and changes with his best friend by his side. The things he'd said to Heyes last night… This time he was on his own.

He wasn't sure what to expect from Catherine. Eliza and Joseph had said that she was angry. Well, he could understand that. When she learned the truth, she would probably feel she had been betrayed – he could understand that too. What would she expect from him? He wasn't sure that he knew how to be a father.

The impassive mask that he wore to cover fear and anxiety would be useless in this situation. Just like his gun. All of the skills that had kept him alive as an outlaw and hunted man were useless to him now. Useless…

He shook his head again as though he could rid himself of the thoughts simply by tossing them out.

Fully dressed now, he reached for his gun belt, but stopped short and pulled his arm back. He didn't need that now, he was a law abiding citizen. A gunslinger, that's not how I want her to see me. Carefully he laid his gun and gun belt in the top drawer of the single dresser and left the room.

Kid Curry ventured out onto the street, still feeling sleepy and looking forward to a cup of coffee. It wasn't his style to lay awake all night and worry. That had been Heyes' job, but then Heyes wasn't around was he? Well, whose fault is that? Curry grimaced. I didn't tell him to lie to me. He continued to wrestle with the argument they'd had – wrestle with guilt and blame that had surfaced after yesterday's revelation.

Looking up and down the street, he half expected to find Heyes sitting and reading a newspaper, or having breakfast in the small hotel lobby, or strolling down the street, but he saw only strangers. He ate breakfast alone and then walked back outside and began wandering up the main street. He told himself he didn't want to run into Heyes. Not yet anyway. He was about to head back toward his hotel when a familiar form drew his attention at the end of the street. Eliza and a dark haired woman were walking out of a store carrying large bolts of fabric.

Curry tried to put a pleasant smile on his face to hide the emotions that he was struggling with. "Good Morning Eliza," he said cordially.

"Jed," Eliza said with a combination of surprise and awkwardness.

"Oh, this is my friend, Susana. She helps me with dressmaking.

"Susana, this is Jed Curry." She said it plainly as though no further explanation was necessary.

The Mexican woman with Eliza smiled and took a moment as though appraising the man before speaking.

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Senior Curry. Eliza – has told me much about you."

Curry smiled back, unsure how to respond at first, but reassured by the warm smile and gentle look in the woman's eyes.

"Uh, I'm pleased to meet you too, Ma'am," he said, hesitantly.

"Eliza, I'll take our fabric to the carriage," Susana said, reaching for the bolt that the other woman carried.

"Let me do that," Curry said quickly, taking both bolts and carrying them to the carriage that stood waiting in front of the store.

"Thank you," Eliza said quietly after the fabric had been deposited. "Can you come by at two? Catherine went riding south of town this morning." And then as if she felt the need to explain further. "She loves riding, she has her own horse and…it usually puts her in a better mood so I told her she could skip chores and go riding this morning. I was hoping…" The words trailed off.

"That–she'd be in a good mood when she met me," Curry finished for her.

Eliza looked up slightly embarrassed. "I hope so," she said, with a small smile.

"I'll be there at two," he said, nodding to the women as Eliza took the reins and the two headed off.

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The Wainwright home stood at the end of a long driveway, in a part of town where wealthier residents lived. As he neared the front door, Kid Curry could already hear voices raised in anger. He paused on the porch, not sure if he should knock or wait for the argument to subside. Before he could decide, the door was flung open and he found himself looking directly into a pair of fiery blue eyes.

"You!" the girl spat out accusingly. She stared at his face and seemed to grow even angrier as the recognition brought back memories of the day her father died–was shot. Her first memory of Kid Curry was of him standing in her home with a gun pointed at her father. "You will never be my father. Just because you – and her –" Catherine gave her mother a disdainful look. "That doesn't give you any right to come here now and be my father! My father was a sheriff, he arrested criminals like you – and you murdered him! I wish he had killed you instead!" She pushed by him and ran into the yard.

Confused images filled her head as she raced toward her black mare that stood, still saddled, by the side of the house.

"Catherine –" Her mother gasped. "Where are you going?"

"Some place where no one lies to me!" She swung up onto her horse and turned back toward the main road.

Catherine remembered that man holding a gun on her father. She remembered running in front of her father and shouting at the man with the gun. As the years passed and she had gotten older, she had often wondered why he'd put his gun down and let himself be taken. As a young child, she had simply believed that he'd surrendered to the lawman because he was an outlaw and outlaws were supposed to surrender. But as she'd matured she realized that something had been wrong about the situation. Kid Curry had his gun drawn with a clear shot of the sheriff. A little girl standing in between them offered no real obstacle. If his intent had been to shoot the lawman and get away, why hadn't he taken the shot? If he was half as good as his reputation claimed, he'd have had no trouble.

She remembered her father's strong arm holding her in front of him after she'd run up to him. As a little girl, she had thought that her father was accepting her protection, even comforted by her presence, but as she grew older she questioned that as well. Could it have been that Jake knew the outlaw wouldn't shoot with a little girl in front of him? She had rejected that idea since she'd always heard Kid Curry was a notorious gunfighter, and a gunfighter certainly didn't have a conscience. And yet – he hadn't shot.

Was it because what her mother said was true? She knew her mother had helped the men who had returned to their home, bloody and injured that day. She was pretty sure her mother hadn't told the whole story to the deputy in town either. It had confused her when her mother told her that doing the right thing wasn't always what it seemed. It had further confused her when her mother still expected her to obey the rules. Then, when she'd heard that those men – Heyes and Curry – who she knew had killed her father and robbed all those trains and banks were granted amnesty – she'd been furious. That one of them might be her real father was just too much!

She rode down the driveway toward the main road and began to gallop.

Wainwright put his arm protectively around his wife. "Let her go, she needs some time to think about this. She'll go back to Carmen's, they'll look after her."

Curry still stood by the door and hadn't yet said a word. He felt awkward being both at the center and on the outside of this family conflict, not sure if he should stay or go.

Eliza struggled to hold back a sob. "I've lost her Joe, she hates me."

"No, she just needs time to get used to this. We knew she wouldn't take this well, at least not at first. She's a good girl and she loves you, she'll come around."

"I should have told her so much sooner; I've made such a mess of everything."

Joseph Wainwright pulled his wife closer and began to rub her back. "It will all work out, you'll see," he said gently.

"Oh, Jed," Eliza said suddenly as though just realizing that he was still standing by the door. "Please come in. I'm so sorry for what Catherine said; she had no right to talk to you that way."

The former outlaw smiled wryly. "Oh, I don't know, I figure she may have the right. She didn't say anything that wasn't true."

Eliza frowned. "Well you certainly didn't murder Jake; your cousin shot him in self defense. Jake would have killed you both."

"Maybe, but I'm not sure that makes any difference to her right now. Should someone go after her? Will she be ok?"

"Oh, yes, Susana will look after her."

"Susana? The woman that I met in town today? Curry asked.

"Yes. She's very close to Susana's family. We met when we first moved here, before I married Joseph. I had begun taking orders for dresses and before long I had more than I could keep up with. I needed someone to help me with the sewing and I found Susana. We worked such long hours that some nights Catherine would stay with Susana's family. They have a daughter, Carmen who is Catherine's age. The girls are best friends now, more like sisters really. Susana's husband was very good to Catherine too; he taught her to ride and treated her like one of his own. That was before I married Joseph of course, but Catherine still spends most of her free time with Carmen.

Curry nodded, trying to take it all in. "I'm afraid I'm not very good at this kind of thing. I'll be at the hotel tonight if you need anything. Let me know…when she gets home." He didn't wait for an answer and turned to go.

"Mr. Curry," Joseph said quickly. "Please stay in town. Catherine will want to talk to you, I'm sure of it. As soon as she's calmed down a little. She seems to have a bit of a fiery temper at times, but she'll come to her senses. She still has some growing up to do."

"Yeah, maybe she'll beat me to it," Curry said absently, as he looked past the couple and gazed out the window.

On his way back to the hotel, he passed a saloon and thought about getting seriously drunk, but knew he wouldn't. That wasn't how he'd want his daughter to find him – if she did ever decide to see him. What would Heyes say if he were here? I need to find him, straighten things out. With a long sigh, he continued walking, feeling very much alone.

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The next morning Kid Curry lay awake after much of the same fretting and worrying as the night before. He decided on one thing however; today he was going to find Heyes – if he was still in town, and set things right between them. He dressed in his regular riding clothes this time and decided that he would wear his gun. If he was going to be asking around about Hannibal Heyes, no sense denying he was Kid Curry.

Stepping out the front door of the hotel, he immediately sensed the tension on the street. Worried frowns were on most of the faces he saw and many seemed to be rushing one way or the other down the street. An icy chill ran down his spine when he saw an unusually large crowd gathered outside of the sheriff's office.

I'm not a wanted man anymore. No posse or bounty hunter would be looking to collect a reward on me. Why do I still let a scene like this get to me?

Nearing the crowd, he slowed his pace and began to scan the faces of the group for any clues as to what had caused the commotion. Alarm bells went off in his head when he recognized Eliza standing closest to the man with the tin star. She was gesturing wildly with her arms and seemed to be in a state of panic. Wainwright stood by her side and seemed equally angry and upset, though a little more restrained than his wife.

Curry began to push his way through the crowd and tried to pick up what was being said. "She's my daughter! I will not wait until you –" Eliza's voice stood out over the crowd and he felt the knot in his stomach tighten. What had happened to Catherine?

"You have to go after them, Sheriff; they've been riding all night as it is." Wainwright's pleading voice could also be heard.

"Now Mrs. Wainwright, we just have to figure out what happened first, I'm not sending a group of my men off into the desert on the word of some Mexican. Maybe the girl just ran off." The sheriff's voice sounded irritated and angry.

"Sheriff!" A new voice shouted from the street and all heads turned toward a group of riders who had just ridden up. "The Carter girl is missing too. They think it was Apaches, someone found a couple of big feathers – the kind them injuns wear, laying in the yard after they rode off.

Curry was standing next to Wainwright now and he put his hand on the man's shoulder to get his attention.

"Oh, Mr. Curry," he said quietly, "I'm so glad you're here. These men won't listen to us. Catherine never made it to Jorge's home last night." He glanced at the Mexican man standing next to him. "Some men in their neighborhood have an idea what happened but the Sheriff won't listen."

"What happened?" Curry asked, his face hard and serious.

Jorge and Susana found Catherine's horse standing in front of their home this morning. They never saw her last night.

The Mexican man spoke up. "I trained that horse myself for Catherine, he would have never left her if there had not been trouble."

"So you see, we know she didn't run off by herself," Eliza added. "Tell him what you told me this morning, Jorge."

"Two days ago, some men came around asking questions. They were banditos. They said a rich man they knew would pay big money for…for pretty young American girls. He wanted a wife with blue eyes and light hair. We told them to go away, they were loco. We thought they had been drinking, no one would do such a thing." Jorge looked nervously at Curry. "Senior I swear, no man from this town would do that."

"What about this other girl, did she have light hair too?" Curry asked.

"Blond hair and blue eyes," Eliza quickly answered.

"What about the feather they found?"

"Easy trick, blame the Apache up north and send the law that way while they head toward the border," Curry concluded grimly.

"Sheriff, you've got to get a posse together right away and head out after them," Wainwright pleaded..

"We're going to send some men north toward those Apache camps," a man in the crowd shouted.

"No. South toward Mexico," Curry said decisively.

"Bill Carter's got an injun feather and they got his little girl. We're gonna go find every last one of them–"

"Easy John, we will," the sheriff said in a placating voice.

"Harvey, gather up some men." He turned toward one of his deputies and continued issuing orders.

"Wait a minute, aren't you even going to listen to this man? Curry grabbed hold of the sheriff's arm as he started to turn away.

"You try that again mister, and you'll be under arrest," the sheriff said, pulling free of Curry's hold and giving him an appraising look.

"We have a reliable witness that says it was Indians," the sheriff said in a tone clearly indicated the decision had been made.

"What if you're wrong?" Curry demanded.

"Who are you anyway? I don't recognize you from around here?" The sheriff asked.

"I'm a friend of the family," he said stonily.

"Hey!" someone shouted from the crowd, "that there's Kid Curry!"

"Kid Curry?" The sheriff had now given the other man his complete attention.

"I heard Heyes and Curry were in town, but I hadn't gotten around to looking into it yet. Maybe we are looking in the wrong place," the sheriff said slowly. "Maybe you've got some old gang members out in those hills? And where's your partner, Heyes?"

Curry narrowed his eyes and took a step closer toward the sheriff. "You heard the man, it was Mexican bandits, you've gotta get some men riding toward the border." He was trying desperately to maintain his composure, while every ounce of him wanted to throttle the man.

"Just what is you business here anyway?" the sheriff asked derisively.

Wainwright stepped between them and spoke up. "Sheriff, please, this isn't helping. This man is a friend of ours and he might be helpful going after the bandits."

"I don't know about Wainwright's girl, but it was Apache's that took mine! I got the feather to prove it!"

"He's right, we gotta mount up," one of the other men said sharply, and was followed by a series of nods and acknowledgements.

"Maybe I should lock you up on suspicion," the sheriff threatened, looking right at Curry. "But I don't have time. Let's go!" he shouted to the others. "We head north! Go home and get as many guns as you got." The men all headed off in different directions to make plans for a quick departure.

"No" Eliza wailed as the men walked away. She turned to her husband with a desperate look.

"I'll go after her," Curry stated flatly and moved out toward the street. "I'll need a horse."

"I can get you one," Wainwright said quickly.

"It'll have to be fast, I've got a lot of time to make up."

The Mexican man who had been forgotten for the moment spoke up. "You can go through the mountains. There is a trail. It is very tricky if you do not know it well, the banditos are not from around here, they will take the easier, but longer, road and go around. You can make up the time."

Curry considered this for a moment.

"You will not be able to find the way on your own. I will take you."

"Papa, you will lose your job if you go," a young Mexican girl suddenly said.

"I will be your guide," she offered, turning toward the American.

Curry started to protest, but the Mexican man looked proudly at his daughter. "Yes, she knows the trail well, she can do it. But Carmen, you must not go any further than the edge of the mountains. No matter what happens, you cannot help him fight those men."

"Yes, papa." The girl nodded obediently.

"Take my horse, Senior Curry, he knows the trails and will be sure footed."

"I'll go too, you'll need help," Wainwright offered his assistance.

"How good are you with a gun?" Curry asked doubtfully.

"Well, I…um…"

"No, you'd only be in the way."

"But Jed, you can't take them on alone." Eliza gave him a worried look.

"He won't be alone." A new voice sounded from behind them.

"Heyes." Curry said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I already have a horse. Let's get going," he said in the authoritative voice that Curry had grown to rely on over the years.

"Go saddle my horse," Jorge urged his daughter. "Muy rapido!" he called as she ran off.

"You'll need supplies too. I'll take care of that." Eliza's face had taken on a new look of hope as she hurried off after Carmen.

"Thank you," Wainwright told both men. "I'll go help them get things ready." He turned and followed the others.

"Heyes," Curry said again hesitantly.

"Look, before you start with me, I've just got one thing to say. I'm going with you and that's final," Heyes said gruffly.

"I was just going to say thanks, for being here," Curry said quietly.

"Well, where'd you think I'd be?" Heyes asked.

"Right beside me," Curry said quietly.

Heyes shifted uneasily. "Ok then, let's get going."

"Right," Curry said nodding. His face filled with worry again as his thoughts returned to Catherine.

To Be Continued