Well, here it is. Chapter 31. I think this may be the longest chapter yet. And I didn't put any pictures in because I couldn't find any that really fit, since the boys are supposed to be unshaven and sickly. But be warned there is a slightly steamy scene that might not be appropriate for those under 13.
I'm thinking that two maybe three more chapters will bring a conclusion to the story. Hope you all enjoy it.
Peace and love,
Karen :')
Thank you, Peter.
"I sure wish Amos would have come along with us," Joe said to his fellow deputy Hershel as they sat near the campfire keeping watch while the rest of the men slept. Well everyone except McMaster.
"Me too," Hershel said. "McMaster talked him into staying behind because he didn't want his daddy's friend to see him shoot two men in cold blood."
They could see the leader of the posse pacing restlessly back and forth at the edge of their camp. His tall, slim figure, made to look even taller by the ten gallon hat he wore, was just a black silhouette against the firelight.
"Do you think he ever sleeps?" Joe asked.
"If he does I bet it's with one eye open. And why do you suppose he's so all fired set on taking them in dead? I know them two boys is robbers and thieves but every body knows that Curry and Heyes never killed any body. They didn't even fire back when we was shooting at them today."
"I guess that chip on his shoulder is bigger than we all figured."
"It just don't seem right though. Gunning down a man when he ain't no murderer. That chip must be mighty big."
"Yep, you're right. It don't seem right. But what can we do about it. He's been legally deputized. And we all know that he works on both sides of the law. So he ain't gonna give two shits if he guns down two men. Armed or unarmed or even if they give themselves up. He's still gonna see them two dead. And he's going to make damn sure that he's the one that gets the notches on his gun belt."
"Yeah, old Burt was sure crazy telling him he was one of the ones that fired at them today. I wouldn't want that man to be on my bad side."
"Who do you reckon that old geezer is he went into White Oak to pick up?"
"I hear tell he was one of the first people to find gold here in this place. He helped build most of these buildings. He knows every nook and crannie in this canyon. McMaster wants him to show him any place where they might hide. McMaster says he knows the place pretty well, but not like that old fella."
"Reckon how long that's going to take? I got a farm that needs tending. I can't expect my boy to keep doing it," Joe complained.
"Yeah, and I miss my wife and kids. If we stay out here too much longer it ain't gonna be worth that thousand dollars," Hershel replied.
"Strange. That's what this whole thing is...strange. To drag this out so long when we could have caught up to them and had them in jail two days ago. It's like he wanted them to get this far. And like he wants as many people as he can find to be there when he does bring them down."
"Maybe we oughta talk to some of the other fellas about it. See what they think."
"Yeah, let's do that. Just as soon as he closes at least one of them eyes."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Evie lay awake as the first sliver of sunlight split the eastern sky. She lay facing it as the sunrise made its first peek over the horizon. She had slept only a couple of hours all night. Her eyes felt gritty now as she stared at the lavender printed sash she had made for the hand fasting ceremony that she and Joshua were supposed to have shared. As she held it in her small hands that were dwarfed inside of his leather gloves, she wound it around her wrist several times, imagining his strong hand and fingers clasped to her wrist being bound with hers. Then she thought of the secret ceremony that she and Hannibal were to take part in following the hand fasting. She had imagined it so many times. Her wedding. She and her beloved standing under the big oak tree. The same tree under which she had given him her innocence. The same tree under which he was supposed to have given her his name. Mrs. Hannibal Heyes. Evangeline Heyes. Mrs. Evangeline Heyes. No matter how she said it, it sounded like the sweetest music to her ears. And then she imagined their wedding night. Every time she thought of his hands touching her body, arousing her to heights she'd never known, she trembled and an empty ache formed low in her belly and in her heart. She would not feel complete until she was with him again. Even if they never went through a ceremony she still felt that her soul was bound to his. And if the worst happened today when they went into those tunnels, she knew that nothing would ever change that. No matter how long she lived or how many other people she met throughout her life, Hannibal Heyes would forever be the other half of her soul. But she wasn't going to entertain any thoughts of discovering the worst. Hannibal had taught her to hope for the best but be prepared for the worst. He had taught her so many things. And there was so much more for them both to learn from each other. She wouldn't give up hope. Happiness would be theirs. She would do whatever it took to make sure of it. Because they and the love they shared were worth it.
She rose to find Preacher already awake and making coffee. Evie was a little irritated with him although she didn't tell him or let on that she was. There was no time for coffee and breakfast. She really wished he would just saddle up and get going. She was too anxious to worry about eating or drinking. She wanted to find the entrance to the tunnels and then find Hannibal and Kid. They had no idea what kind of condition the boys were in and a few minutes could mean the difference between life and death. She pulled her hair back into a pony tail and secured it with the lavender sash. It brought her comfort having it near her just like it brought her comfort to wear Heyes' coat and gloves. She went straight to Rusty and began saddling him, hoping that Preacher would get the hint that she was ready to move on.
"You really should get something to eat, miss. Once we get in those tunnels it will be like walking in your own grave. Cold. No light. No where to stop and rest. And those tunnels go on for miles. I have a pretty good idea about where they are down there and if I'm right, it's at the very far end from where we're going in, back in the direction of the canyon. It may be hours before we reach them. And who knows what we're going to find once we do reach them. You're going to need your strength, so please eat something. I know you ain't eat since early yesterday."
She sighed and her shoulders sagged. He was right. She needed to stay strong for the boys sake. And she was so very tired. But to be honest, her appetite was gone. In fact she had felt sick at her stomach ever since they'd found out one of them had been shot.
"I know, Preacher, but I just can't eat right now. I don't think I could keep it down."
"At least have some coffee then, 'cause I bet you didn't sleep any last night either."
She gave him a wan smile. He really was very sweet, even if he was a misguided hypocritical, outlawing, drunk minister. "Alright, I'll have one cup. But then can we get going? There should be plenty of daylight by the time I finish one cup."
"Yes, ma'am. I'll be ready to ride when you're done," he smiled at her as he handed her the tin cup of steaming hot coffee.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Heyes jerked to consciousness. He had been dreaming he was falling. And just before he hit the ground he'd jerked himself awake. He looked around wildly, his mind murky and confused. Where was he? What was he doing? His mind couldn't concentrate. Why was his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth? What time was it? Was it day or night? Water. He needed water. Where was the Kid? A hand fell from behind him to land solidly on his left shoulder. Pain shot through him and he remembered. He had been grazed by the bullet that had gone through Kid's shoulder.
"Heyes," a hoarse voice muttered weakly behind him.
Heyes grabbed hold of Kid's hand and turned so he could see his face in the low lantern light which flickered in its effort to stay alive. They had barely escaped and now they were hiding deep underground, Heyes now recalled. Kid's eyes were half closed, as he fought the sleepiness his drained body demanded he give in to.
"Heyes, it's not your fault,." Kid said in a weak almost inaudible voice.
Heyes remembered too, talking to his unconscious partner and telling him how sorry he was. And how he blamed himself for all that had happened. So he had heard him. Heyes squeezed his partners hand.
"What ever happens, Heyes, don't blame yourself. I made my own choices. It's not your fault." His eyes drooped shut briefly then fluttered open again. "Heyes, in case I never told you, I...I lo.." His eyes closed again. This time they stayed shut. His head lolled to the side and his hand went limp in Heyes' hand.
"Kid? Kid?" Heyes pulled himself up on weak and trembling arms to lay his ear to Kid's chest. His heart was still beating. He just stayed that way. His knees on the cold dirt floor by Kid's bedside with his head on his partner's chest, listening to the sound of his heart beating. He watched his face and again thought how child-like he looked when he slept. Little Jed Curry. you My heart aches for the little boy were. Evie's words echoed in the corners of his memory. His heart ached too. For the boys they had been. For the husbands and fathers they would never be. Evie. It couldn't end this way. He never thought it would end this way. "I love you, too, Jed," he said before he buried his face in Kid's chest and cried like a baby.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The entrance to the underground tunnels was dug out of the side of a hill and was braced on each side by a wooden frame that was rotting and falling apart. From the looks of the growth in front of the entrance it hadn't been entered in many years except by the occasional varmint and rodent. That was an encouraging thought. It meant no one else had found this way into the underground tunnels.
Evie stood now just outside the entrance holding the lantern she'd just lit. Preacher was descending the small incline that lead to the wooden archway then stepped under it and disappeared almost as if the earth had opened its mouth and swallowed him. She was frantic with worry for Hannibal and Kid, but going underground was something she did not look forward to. As a child she had always hated going into the root cellar to get canned goods her mama had stored down there. And this was a root cellar of Biblical proportions. But she had to admit that her dread of the underground passages was not her only fear. There was a far greater fear that clutched at her heart right now. The fear that she would find Kid or Hannibal or maybe even both of them dead or near death. Until now her adrenaline had been keeping her afloat. Now when they were so close to finding them, she felt the seams that were holding her together begin to weaken.
When she didn't follow him, Preacher came back and looked at her, puzzled. "You coming?"
"I'm scared, Preacher. Not just of going down in there, but of what we might find once we reach them."
He came to her and clasped her empty hand. "Forgive me. I've been slack in my duty as a messenger of the Lord. You've got to have faith that everything will be alright. He didn't let us get this far just to have us be too late. But just in case...." He reached into the pocket on the inside of his coat. Evie was prepared for him to pull out the small Bible she knew he carried and offer a word of prayer. Instead he pulled out a silver flask, and unscrewed the top before holding it out to her.
Had it not been for the gravity of the situation she would have laughed. Instead she smiled slightly and shook her head as she said, "No, thanks. I don't drink."
"Now might be a good time to start," he muttered as he turned the flask up and took a long swallow of the liquid inside.
And so she offered her own silent prayer that the Lord would be merciful and she would find two tired and dirty but no worse for the wear, breathing outlaws. She steeled herself and swallowed the fear she felt and followed Preacher down into the darkness. The darkness of the fear of not knowing what was waiting at the end of this tunnel.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
They walked for what seemed like hours. There was chamber after chamber dug out in the earth. They were just like rooms in a house only with walls made of earth. How long did it take for someone to dig out all of them and make the tunnels to connect them? It seemed impossible that men could do this. But men had built the great pyramids hadn't they? Some of the chambers had old furniture and moldy linens and clothes still in them. That meant modern men had lived down here too. But why? Some of the rooms had completely caved in. Their dirt walls having collapsed. My, God what if the ceiling above them fell in? The smell of raw damp earth was over powering and at times threatened to make her feel as if she were suffocating. And the thought of the walls collapsing in on her intensified that feeling. But then she would think about Hannibal alone down here, in need, possibly hurt and she would calm down for his sake. Many times her lamp light would illuminate a pair of glowing eyes. Raccoons or rats she supposed. She hoped. Just then she felt something scurry across in front of her and brush the hem of her britches and trod on her boots. Definitely rats. This place gave her the creeps. She did feel like she was walking in her own grave. She hoped both the boys were alright and as soon as they found them, they'd soon be on their way out of this tomb and on to someplace safe. Above ground and safe.
"It can't be much further. We're almost there," Preacher explained.
"Almost where? The bowls of hell?" she quipped as several rats ran past her with chattering squeals.
The thought of anyone she loved being down here trying to survive gave her a sickening feeling.
The seemingly endless maze of corridors and tunnels went on and on. Miles it seemed they had walked. The openings in some of the chambers were braced with the same rotting wood that had been framing the entrance and looked as though the strain of holding up their burden was almost too much. It would be very easy to become lost down here. She couldn't wait to find her cowboys and get the hell out of here. Roots hung from the ceiling above and brushed the top of Evie's head as she followed close behind Preacher. It was impossible to dodge them because they were everywhere. When they touched her it made her cringe. It felt like long, wicked fingers grabbing at her. The hood of her cloak was continuously being pulled from her head by the annoying things. How much further could it possibly be, she wondered. The entrance had been about four or five miles from the canyon. They had walked at least three miles back towards the canyon. They had to be getting close. She was just about to ask him if he had taken a wrong turn and gotten lost when Preacher stopped abruptly in front of her. He turned and looked at her then pointed straight ahead. Up ahead at the end of the corridor some fifty feet away was the very faint glow of a lantern. Hope sprang to life inside of her. Evie stepped around her companion and began to jog towards the light. He was there in the light, she knew he was. She had to get to him. Her renewed hope gave her renewed strength and now she was running. Her black cloak flowing out behind her as she ran. She paid no mind to the roots now as they grabbed and seized strands of her hair and pulled them free from their bindings. She ran towards the light as a ship that's been lost in the storm seeks the light of a safe harbor. She burst through the opening of the large chamber and spun around the room. It was larger than most of the others and the earthen walls were more firmly packed and solid, making it appear almost like a room in a house. A lantern sat on a table in the center of the room, it's meager flame struggling to stay alight. To her left were six small barrels probably holding water, and shelves holding linens, clothes, cooking utensils, candles and all manner of goods and supplies. A small potbellied stove and a couple of ricks of wood lined the wall opposite of the entrance she'd just come through. Just to the left of the stove was a hole in the earthen wall close to the floor. She turned to her right and there in the corner on a cot lay Kid Curry, unconscious. And slumped across him also unconscious was Hannibal Heyes.
She set the lantern on the table beside the one that was already there and rushed to Heyes' side just as the Preacher came into the room. She knelt beside him and touched his face. His skin was cold. Oh, God, no. Please let him be alive. "Preacher, help me."
Together they lifted Heyes and laid him on the other cot. Evie put her head to his chest. His heart was beating. He was breathing. His skin was just cold because he'd been in the elements and now underground for four days now. But he wasn't dead. Thank you, God, she said. He looked horrible. His skin was pallid. His eyes looked sunken, his cheeks hollow. He was covered in dirt and dried blood. She didn't want to leave him but she knew that right now, Kid was the one that needed the most help. She had seen his untended wounds and when she had lifted Heyes from his chest she had felt his skin. And unlike Hannibal's skin, Kid's had been burning hot. The dried blood on Heyes clothes was obviously Kid's. But just to make sure, she unbuttoned Heyes' shirt and removed it. Then she pulled the Henley undershirt off over his head. She checked over his entire torso and found only a flesh wound on the top of his left shoulder, where a bullet had grazed him. It wasn't infected and it wasn't bleeding. Thank you again, she said. She untied the string of her cloak and removed it from her shoulders. She covered him with it and tucked him in tight. She gave him one last look as she tenderly touched his cheek before she moved to help Preacher tend to Kid.
"How bad is it?" Evie asked Preacher as he took account of the wounds to Kid's side and shoulder.
"Looks like both bullets passed through. And the bleeding seems to have stopped. But it's the fever that we have to worry about now. Is Heyes hit any where?"
"Just a graze to the shoulder. But it's not infected."
He took the burlap bag of remedies that Georgia had given them and he removed some dried leaves that were bundled together with a string. "Let's get a fire going in that stove. We need to get some water boiling so we can steep these and make a tea. He needs to drink it if we're going to get this fever under control."
Preacher built the fire while Evie found cooking pots and filled them with water from one of the barrels. Where had all these things come from? Who had brought them here? While she waited for the water to boil and Preacher applied cool compresses to Kid's fevered body, Evie knelt by Hannibal's side. She looked down at her beloved's face. The beautiful face she loved so much. He had dark circles beneath his sunken, hollow eyes. His lips were cracked and dry. He was obviously dehydrated. He needed water. She took her canteen and poured a little of its contents onto her fingers and brushed them against his parched lips. His eyes slowly opened to stare blankly at her.
"Hey, cowboy," she said, her voice full of love and affection.
"Am I dead or dreaming?" he rasped out from his dry throat.
"You're not dreaming. I'm really here. You're just tired and weak, but I'm here now and I'm going to take care of you." She tucked the edges of her cloak around him to warm him. He smiled his lopsided smile and her heart just melted.
She held the canteen to his parched lips and he drank greedily until she pulled it away, much sooner than he wanted her to.
"Not too much at once. Just a little at a time."
"Kid?"
"Preacher's looking after him. I'm going to go help him now." She looked down adoringly at the man she loved. The man she knew she would risk anything to find, no matter how far away he was. She reached tender fingers up to brush a wayward lock of his golden brown hair from his forehead. Then she placed a gentle kiss there. "Don't worry about anything. We're going to take care of Jed and you."
The hours passed quickly as they tended to the worn and wounded ex-outlaws. She had cleaned and bandaged all their wounds after Preacher had doused them with whiskey as an antiseptic. Together they had managed to get a cup of the tea remedy down the Kid and some much needed water and some of Georgia's chicken broth into Hannibal. Evie took the watch from her pocket and checked the time. In fact it was Hannibal's old watch. The one he'd given her after Olivia had given him the extravagant gold one as a gift. Olivia. She must be going out of her mind with worry. But Evie couldn't help that now. She had done what she had to do. And what if she hadn't gone against her aunt's wishes and stayed in Red Rock. Kid would most likely be dying from infection and Hannibal from thirst and hunger.
She sat in a chair beside Kid's cot and bathed his face and chest with cold clothes. The fever was coming down. In fact the last time she had roused him to drink some tea he had looked at her with awareness and had actually said her name. So she knew he was coming out of the fever. His body was just exhausted and traumatized and needed sleep. But Hannibal had not opened his eyes or said a word since he'd said "Kid" to her six hours ago. She wasn't even sure if he knew what he had been saying then. Hypothermia and dehydration could cause the mind to go fuzzy and delirious. She had managed to spoon quite a bit of water and chicken broth down his throat though, and his color was getting better and the dark circles were growing lighter. His skin was warm now too, since the fire in the stove had made the underground room toasty warm. She looked at his sleeping form across from her. She could not bear to imagine what he and Jed had been through in the last few days. Her mind wandered back to the night she had discovered they were running. She had read from the little book,
Whither my heart has gone, there follows my hand, and not elsewhere.
For when the heart goes before, like a lamp, and illumines the pathway,
Many things are made clear, that else lie hidden in darkness."
How fitting those words seemed now. He held her heart, and when he had left with it she had followed. And her love for him had urged her on and kept her going. And then she had found him and her heart lying hidden in darkness and dank. But now there would only be light. The light and warmth of their love for each other. She had to hold on to that belief. The belief that they would survive this and they would have their life together just like they had planned. They would find their sanctuary and build their impenetrable fortress. Then with or without the amnesty they would live happily and unbothered for the rest of their lives.
She looked at the watch again. It was two in the afternoon. She had only had a couple of hours sleep in the last thirty hours. She was so tired and sleepy. Preacher had gone to refill the small basin with more cold water. They had moved one of the barrels outside the room so it would stay cold, providing the cool compresses they needed to keep Kid's fever down. When he came back Evie asked him to take her place and keep vigil over both their patients while she got a few hours of sleep. There was a blanket at Hannibal's feet and she unfolded it and laid it out on the ground beside his cot. She placed one more kiss to his forehead before she settled onto her pallet and fell asleep.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
He awoke to the tempting aroma of brewing coffee. How long had it been since he'd had a hot cup of coffee? He felt more like himself than he had in days. His mind was clear. And he was warm. Warmer than he'd been in what seemed like weeks. His eyes focused on the roots hanging from the dirt ceiling above him. He was in the tunnels. The tunnels of Rising Gulch. Kid. Kid had been shot. He grabbed the black cloth covering him and threw it off. He looked at it, puzzled as he sat up. Where did this come from, he thought. He swung his feet off the side of the cot and almost stepped on the sleeping form that lay curled in a ball beside his bed. A sleeping form that wore his blue coat. The blue coat he'd left in Red Rock. The most luxurious dark hair held with a lavender sash spread out on the blanket beneath that form. He'd know that hair anywhere. He looked again at the black cloak. He lifted it to his nose. And he would know that scent anywhere. Had thirst and hunger and exposure finally made him lose his mind completely? Or was Evie sleeping on the floor at his bedside? He looked over at Kid's sleeping form. His wounds were dressed with clean linen. He put a hand to his own left shoulder and felt the bandage there as well. Only then did he notice that he was shirtless. He leaned across and touched Kid's face. He was still warm, but not burning like he had been when he last remembered touching him. He looked again at Evie. Her face was turned away from him but he knew it was her. He knew the fullness of her hips, the curve of her back, the smallness of her waist and the line of her jaw. His Evie was here. But how? How had she found them? When did she get here? He reached down and stroked the back of this knuckles across her cheek before running his fingers through her hair. She moaned softly as her eyes fluttered open. She turned to find a pair of chocolate colored eyes gazing longingly, and disbelievingly down at her. She came to her knees and threw her arms around him as a sob of relief broke from her throat. He hugged her tightly back. He couldn't believe he was holding her in his arms again. He didn't think he ever would again. And yet here she was. The feel of her, the scent of her, taking his breath away. They were content to just hold each other there in silence for a moment. Having her here so close to him, being able to touch her was so overwhelming for him that he couldn't have found words to convey how much he was feeling at this moment any way. But he needn't have worried. As he pulled away from her and held her face in his hands and locked his brown eyes onto her stormy blue ones, no words were necessary.
He was awake, his beautiful brown eyes full of life again. There were so many things she wanted to say. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him. She wanted to explain how she had gotten here. She wanted to ease his mind about Kid. She wanted to inform him about the posse camped nearby. But when she saw his beautiful face, no longer ashen and hollow, his eyes no longer sunken and lifeless, she was so happy and relieved all she could do was hold him and thank God he was going to be alright. She began to plant kisses on his eyes, his nose and all over his face. His beautiful face that was made even more ruggedly handsome by the four days of beard growth. He in turn plied her with gentle kisses to her face, her hair, her slender throat. Then she kissed his mouth. The mouth from which she had lovingly and with great care bathed away the dryness. His mouth was not dry now. It was soft and moist as he returned her kiss. But it was not a kiss born out of sexual arousal or passion. But it was much like the kiss they had shared when he had saved her from Harlan Mathis. A life affirming kiss born out of desperation and relief.
"What are you doing here?" he asked her when finally he pulled his mouth from hers. "And how did you get here?"
"Preacher brought me."
"Preacher?"
She just nodded and went back to plying his face with kisses and stroking the smooth skin of his chest and arms. He pulled her face away from his for a moment and just stared at her beautiful face, still not able to believe she was really here. Then he planted one hard quick kiss to her full lips and said, "You are either the most amazing, brave, incredible woman I've ever known or you're the stupidest."
Another kiss. "It was so stupid of you to come after me." More kisses. "Preacher should never have brought you here."
"I was so scared. When we found Kid's horse and then learned that one of you had been shot, I was crazy with worry. And then when we found you both here, Kid shot and burning up with fever, you so weak and tired..." she put her head to his chest unable to speak any further. He laid his cheek to the top of her head. He was so glad to see her. His heart wanted to leap out of his chest with the absolute joy he felt that he was really holding her. But at the same time he knew that her being here complicated everything. Now he had not only himself and the Kid to worry about but her as well.
Preacher entered from the dark corridor carrying the basin of fresh cold water.
"Heyes! You're awake. How ya feeling?"
"I've been worse. But I've been better too. And I'd be a whole lot better if you two weren't here. What the devil were you thinking, Preacher, bringing her here?" Heyes admonished his old friend and former gang member even as he held tight to the woman he was saying he wished weren't here.
"Don't blame him," she pleaded as she knelt between his knees. "I begged and pestered until he finally agreed to bring me."
"Besides, Heyes, if I hadn't of come along with her she would have lit out by herself."
Heyes looked deep into her eyes. "You are the most stubborn, bull headed....incredible woman I've ever met, do you know that?" She looked back at him knowing he was angry with her for being so foolish as to follow him. But she could also see the love in his eyes and knew that he was really glad she was here.
"Thank you for looking after her, Preacher. How did you know we'd be here?" He looked down at the innocent eyed woman he loved as she knelt at his feet. "And why aren't you on a train to Nashville?"
"When you didn't come home, we went into Cold Springs. I saw Laura. She told me that she helped you get out of town. She also told me that you'd headed north. I figured you were headed here. When she told me the story behind McMaster and how you and the Devil's Hole gang had made him a laughing stock, I knew he was going to be out for your heads and not just the bounty. When Preacher said he knew this place and how to get here, we started making our plans to come and help you. I couldn't sleep at night knowing you were both out here in the cold without coats or food with that man on your tails. I had to come. Please don't be angry with me."
How could he possibly stay angry with her when she looked pleadingly up at him with those big blue eyes? "It's alright. What's done is done. And if you two hadn't shown up when you did me and Kid might not have made it." Heyes looked at this sleeping partner. "How's he doing by the way?" Heyes asked as he rose on still slightly shaky legs to go and sit in the chair by Kid's bedside. He picked up the cloth that was resting in the cool water that Preacher had set in the floor by the chair. He wrung it out and laid it across Kid's warm forehead.
"He's much better than he was when we first got here. His fever has come down considerably. And he woke up for a minute and actually said my name. So he's lucid, which is a good sign."
"How long have you been here?"
She took the watch from her pocket. It was almost four. "Almost eight hours now."
"How long was I asleep? And what day is it?"
"You've been out since we got here except for once when you woke up and looked at me and asked me if you were dead or dreaming. And it's Wednesday."
"Four days. It seems like weeks. What time is it?"
"It's four in the afternoon."
"It's getting too late for you to be heading back now. You'll just have to stay here tonight and head out tomorrow."
"Head out for where? I thought you were going to stay down here until that posse gave up?"
"We," he motioned to himself and Kid, "are staying down here. You," he motioned to Evie and Preacher, "are going back to Red Rock as soon as possible. In the morning to be exact."
"I'm not going anywhere. I just got here. Preacher can leave any time he wants, but I'm staying. Here with you is where I belong and that's where I'm going to stay."
"No, you're not." He turned to speak to Preacher. "The next town south of here is White Oak I believe. You should be able to catch the stage there. Make sure she gets back to the ranch." He turned again to Evie. "And when you get back to Red Rock you are getting on the next train to Nashville and you're going home with Livvy."
Evie couldn't believe her ears. He thought he was going to send her away? After she'd just found him again? She stood, her defenses starting to rise. "I just rode hundreds of miles to be here with you. To find you and help you. I had to sneak out of the window after Livvy locked me in my bedroom. I've aged ten years wondering if you were dead or alive. I've walked for miles through this never ending grave just to nurse you and Jed back to health. If you think I'm going to just up and leave now you're crazy."
"Evie this is no place for you. It was foolish of you to come after me. It's too dangerous."
"It was dangerous for you to follow after Harlan Mathis too, but that didn't stop you."
She was going to be stubborn about this he could see. "Preacher are you sure your horses were hidden well enough so that no one would see them?"
Taking the hint that Heyes wanted time alone with Evangeline, Preacher said, "I, uh, don't know for sure. Maybe I'd better go and check on that. I may just stand watch at the entrance for a while too. Just in case." He grabbed his black parson's hat and his rifle and exited out the doorway and into the darkness beyond.
"Come here," he commanded. When she stubbornly refused and stayed where she was with her arms crossed defiantly over her chest, he added softly, "Please."
She came to stand in front of him between his knees. He held out his hands, a signal for her to place hers within them. Finally she grabbed his hands and looked down at his face that was drawn and lined with worry. "Me and the Kid, we've been in this same type of situation dozens of times, Evie. We know how to handle it. You have no idea what you're getting into if you think you can stay with us while we're on the run. I won't put you through it. I've put you through enough already."
"You think I'll be a liability. But I won't. You need me. I think I've proven that today. If I hadn't shown up here when I did who knows what would have happened to you."
"You probably saved our lives, I know. I wasn't in any shape to help Kid myself. If you hadn't shown up he probably would have died. I might have too. I'm grateful for that, and I love you for being foolishly brave enough to come all this way. But I don't want you caught in the middle of all this. We might have to shoot our way out. I don't think I could live with myself if you got hurt." He brought her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles.
"I won't get hurt. And if you have to shoot your way out, wouldn't it be better to have four guns instead of two? And how are you going to get anywhere without horses?"
"Like I said, we've done this a few times. I'll figure it out. I always do."
"So that's it, huh? The almighty genius, Hannibal Heyes can do it all by himself. He doesn't need help from anybody, right? Well, let me tell you something, mister. I love you, I'm committed to you, and if things had gone the way they were supposed to I'd be married to you right now. And I'm not going to leave you here to face this alone. That man wants you dead. He wants to parade your dead bodies up and down the streets for everyone to see. He is a soulless, heartless man with absolutely no feelings. If I leave and something happens to you, I couldn't live with myself.”
“I’m not changing my mind, Evie. Your going and I’m staying and that’s that.”
She dropped his hands and walked away from him with a huff. “I can’t believe your just going to tell me to go away and expect me to just obey like a trained lap dog. What about our plans? What about the future we were going to have? Are you just giving up on all of it?”
He came to her and pulled her into his arms. She went without hesitation. How could he tell her that they had no future now? How could he tell her that they’d be lucky to get out of this alive to keep living on the lamb? How could he tell her there was no possible way he could ever hope to settle down and have a normal life? He couldn’t. Not right now. He couldn’t bear to hurt her like that. “I don’t want to argue and fight with you. I just want to enjoy having you here while I can. You’re not leaving until tomorrow so let’s make the best of the time we’ve got, alright?”
“I don’t want to fight either,” she said as she looked up into his chocolate eyes and she fell deeper in love with him. She would find a way before tomorrow to convince him that this was where she belonged. “I just love you so much, and I can’t bear the thought of you needing help and knowing there’s nobody there to help you, when I could be there.” Tears pooled in her eyes, threatening to spill over at any second.
“I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself. And the Kid. I’ve been doing it all our lives. No reason I can’t keep doing it.”
“See what I mean? Don’t you understand that being in love and being committed to one another means you don’t have to do it all by yourself."
He didn't answer. What could he say? He loved and needed her more that his next breath, but that was exactly why he had to let her go.
She reached up and removed the binding sash that was securing her hair. Placing her hand in his with the sash between she laced her fingers in his. She wrapped one end of the loose sash around his strong, masculine wrist and the other around her much smaller feminine one. "I am bound to you body, heart and soul. No matter what happens that will never change."
His gaze fell to her mouth. That sweet soft-lipped mouth. He wanted to take her mouth and kiss her until they were both breathless. But he shouldn't. Hadn't he and Kid just had a conversation about this. It was not wise to touch her like this again. It would only lead to the inevitable. And the consequences could be life changing. But how could he not touch her when she stood there telling him she was bound to him body, heart and soul? And he'd been so lonely for her the last four days. The temptation of her being so close was more than even he could handle and he lowered his mouth slowly to hers and captured her mouth in a soul-stirring kiss.
She felt it down to her toes. Like bolts of electricity shooting through her limbs. She felt her whole body begin to soften and bloom for him as his tongue delved into the recesses of her mouth. He was her sun, her moon, her sky. He was food, he was drink, he was sleep. He was her happiness and her sorrow, her laughter and her tears. This man was her everything. How could she ride out of here tomorrow and just go on with her life, knowing he was running. Not knowing if he was dead or alive. She didn't think she could. They were both breathing heavily when the heated kiss finally broke. "I've been so miserable without you. I can't stand being apart from you," she said breathlessly, his mouth hovering possessively close, their breath mingling.
"I haven't had a bath or a shave in days, I don't know how you can stand to be this close to me."
A look of pure seduction crossed her lovely face. "Being the daughter of a gambler and due to the considerable amount of time I've been spending lately in the company of outlaws..." she walked slowly backwards pulling him along by his hand which was still bound to hers..."I guess I'm just learning to live dangerously."
And she was definitely flirting with danger. Heyes knew what she had in mind and she knew exactly what she was doing. When she reached the table in the center of the room she unbound their hands, then pulled the chair from beneath the table. With a gentle push she forced him down into the chair. With deliberately slow, seductive movements she poured warm water into the wash basin and set it on the table beside him. He sat mesmerized as he watched her dip the small towel into the basin and then lather it with soap. He knew her intention. He should tell her to stop. That he would bathe himself. But he found he couldn't say it. Truth be told he didn't want to say it. And he waited in anticipation of her hands on his body.
She held the soapy towel in front of his chest and squeezed it allowing the soapy water to run through her fingers and down upon his chiseled torso. Using the damp towel she caught the cascading bubbles and suds and began a wash his upper body with a slow circular motion. She delighted in the sculpted shape of his chest, the flat plain of his belly, the rippled muscles of his flanks. Satisfied that the front of him was clean, again she dipped the towel into the basin and lathered it. She squeezed the excess into the basin this time and then tenderly washed the dirt and grime from his face. She bathed his eyes, his nose, this strong chin and jaw, and finally his cheeks with those adorable dimples. She let her hand linger at his mouth as she brushed the moist towel across his full lips. It was almost more than he could take. He reached for her to pull her to him, but she stepped out of his reach and gave him a flirtatious shake of her head. She plunged the towel once more into the warm water then lathered it. She then moved to stand behind him. With her delicate fingers she urged his chin upwards until he was looking up at her, his head bent back over the chair. She let the soapy water run through his hair and she used her fingers to spread the soap throughout his dark locks. She dipped a cup into the basin and poured the clear water over his head to rinse the soap away. The water splashed and puddled at her feet as it ran from the ends of his hair. She massaged his scalp with a dry towel, removing the excess moisture form his hair. After once again wetting and lathering the towel, she sat herself astride his legs and pulling him forward, let the soapy water run down the cleft of his strong masculine back. Reaching around him, her breasts pressed firmly to his chest she swabbed his back. With firm yet gentle hands she washed away the dirt and dried blood from his back and his shoulders.
He had managed to keep his hands off of her until she had straddled him. Then it had been impossible. As she was washing his back, his face had been buried in the hollow of her throat. He gently nipped at her soft skin with his teeth. She sucked in her breath at the slight pleasure pain of it. Then he had soothed it with his tongue. His hands couldn't decide where they most wanted to be. Cupping her full round, dungaree clad buttocks as they spread out on his lap, or her firm, high breasts that jutted towards his face like two ripe, succulent melons. His lips made a journey across her collar bone and down to the creamy smooth skin of her chest. His fingers became preoccupied with sliding the buttons of her shirt from their holes. He was almost desperate to get to the prize he knew lay beyond those buttons. When at last the final button was freed and he spread the shirt open, he groaned in frustration as he was met with the cotton camisole she wore beneath. Not deterred, and almost mad with need to taste her, he lifted one cotton clothed breast to his mouth and took her needy flesh inside.
Evie held his head in hear hands pulling him closer and stroked his damp hair from his face as he laved her aching nipple with his tongue. Even through the fabric of her camisole the feel of his tongue on her flesh made the core of her most feminine parts melt. She stifled a moan as he moved from first one breast and then the other, leaving the unattended one to cling to the fabric made wet from his mouth's masterful attention. Oh, how she had missed him. How she had longed for his touch. She could never imagine any man except this man touching her in this way. She was made for him. She could feel the hard evidence of his desire against the back of her thighs as she squirmed with need on his lap. She had overheard many conversations of married women at church picnics and quilting bees. Most of them had described relations with their husbands as a "chore" or their "wifely duty." As if it were something bothersome or something to be endured. Her mother had always remained silent during those conversations. Evie knew now why she had. It was because Nate and Lilly Webb had shared the same kind of connection that she and Hannibal shared. Lilly could not relate to those women because she had experienced with Nate what Evie was experiencing now. What she had experienced the other times before with him. It was not something to be endured. It was something to be relished and delighted in. There were no words to describe the way he made her feel. Both physically and emotionally. Those poor women, she thought. They had obviously never been made love to by a Hannibal Heyes. She was in danger of loosing her mind at the delicious torment he was bringing to her with his mouth. She never wanted him to stop. But he did. His greedy mouth trekked its way back up her throat and once again to her mouth. He kissed her, unable to get enough of her and she matched his every stroke. She loved this man with her whole being. She wanted to show him how much she loved him. Breathing heavily she broke the kiss and lifted herself from astride him. She took two steps backward and grasping his hands pulled him to a standing position. She stepped back to him. Never losing eye contact with his heated gaze she reached for the belt at his waist and began to pull the leather through the metal buckle. She undid the top button. Then the second.
Heyes knew he should stop her. Knew this had gotten out of hand. He wasn't supposed to touch her again. Every time he gave in to his need for her there was a greater chance of her being with child. That was a risk that neither of them could afford to take. But when faced with the actual choice to either stop or continue he simply could not stop. This woman had a power over him that no other human being had ever had. Not even Kid. He was putty in her hands and she knew it. Knowing that she had that kind of power over him scared him a little. But not enough for him to make her stop. Another button came undone. Before she could undo the last two buttons he was lifting her off the ground and she was wrapping her legs and arms around him. They both trembled in anticipation of what was to come.
"Aw, no," a gravely voice croaked out from across the room.
Their heads snapped up in unison. They looked at each other with wide eyes. Evie peeked over Heyes' shoulder to find Kid Curry looking at them through squinted eyes.
"Would you two knock it off? That's not what a fella in my condition wants to see when he's just waking up from a fever."
Although disappointed at being interrupted, Heyes was also grateful that Kid had put a stop to what should not have been happening in the first place.
"Oh, really? And what would you like to see?" Heyes asked as he kept his back to his partner. He set Evie back on her feet and kept her shielded from Kid's view while she rebuttoned her shirt and he refastened his pants.
"The empty side of a plate full of food. That's what."
Evie, turning three shades of red, promptly moved to the stove and got busy making that wish come true. "How about the empty end of a cup full of broth for starters. Then later we'll talk about solid food."
As Evie heated Georgia's tasty broth for Kid, Heyes came and sat by his partner's bedside. The partner's eyes met and locked for a long moment. Each expressing to the other without words how relieved they were to once again be snatched out of the hands of death. And this time Evie and Preacher had been their deliverers. But they both silently conveyed their new concerns. Now they not only had themselves to worry about, but Evie as well.
"Didn't we talk about this?" Kid whispered. "If I hadn't woke up and interrupted you two....Heyes you know there could be dire consequences if you don't stop this."
"I know, Kid," Heyes whispered back. "I tried to resist her but she was just so persistent."
"Yeah, it looked like you were putting up a real struggle there, Heyes," Kid said sarcastically, while Heyes just rolled his eyes at his partners quip. "You know, laying with a fever can sure cause a man to have some strange dreams. I could have sworn you were laying on me blubbering like a baby and telling me you loved me."
Heyes laughed nervously, "Boy, what a dream. That's the silliest thing I've ever heard."
Evie approached with the broth just in time. Heyes and Kid had always understood how they felt about each other, but being the manly men they were, they never said it out loud. But Kid could tell from the deep penetrating gaze from his partner's brown eyes that he had not dreamed it. When faced with actually losing someone you love sometimes you didn't want it to just be understood. You had to say the words. Kid returned his partner's deep affectionate gaze and let him know without speaking that he understood and that the feeling was mutual.
Heyes returned once again to his cot so Evie could sit next to his partner and help him sip the delicious smelling broth from a tin cup. As he watched them a lump formed in his throat. Kid looked so weak and tired. And Evie, his sweet, precious Evie, looked like the most beautiful angel of mercy God could have ever sent to save them. And she had saved them. If she and Preacher had not shown up when they did, Kid would probably have died from infection and he would have eventually died of thirst or hunger. He remembered now trying to get to the water and trying to help Kid, but by the time he had pulled his friend through the long tunnel, having been weakened by lack of food and water himself, he had been useless.
He could now vaguely remember awakening and seeing her above him. He remembered her checking him for wounds and cleaning and dressing the one on his shoulder. And he had foggy memories of her spooning broth and water into his mouth. She had come hundreds of miles through dangerous territory to find him. What had he ever done to deserve such devotion? And what had she ever done to deserve being put in such a predicament? Nothing. She should have been on her way to Nashville by now. Away from him and all the misery he had brought into her life.
After three cups of broth, Kid settled back down into his bed and fell once again into a deep healing sleep. Evie smiled down at the man she'd come to think of as her big brother. He had been pale when they had first found him. But now his color was coming back. And his fever was almost completely gone. But he would need plenty of rest to heal. He began to snore lightly and Evie very gently pulled the cover up over his shoulders and tucked him in.
As Heyes watched her taking such tender care of his friend his heart swelled with love for her. Was there anything about her that he didn't find perfect and beautiful? She stood from the chair and stretched. Her body was sore and stiff from the last few days of riding, sleeping on the ground and from tension. Heyes stood and came to her. He brushed he hair back from her face. "You look tired, baby."
"I am. But I don't want to sleep. I don't want to miss one minute of being with you." What if they're the last ones I ever have.
He lead her to the cot which was really only big enough for one person. But he lay on his side and pulled her down beside him and spooned her up against him. Just the way they had slept when they were out on the trail together. She very much wanted to finish what they had started earlier, to show him without words how much she loved him, needed him, wanted him. But she sensed somehow that he was avoiding that and just wanted to be close to her and hold her. And she would never be disappointed with him so close. And so she relaxed against the solid warmth of his body and enjoyed the safe comfort of his arms wrapped around her. Her heavy eyes struggled to stay open. But soon they gave up the struggle and drifted shut.
Heyes lay awake behind her, listening to her breathing. Tomorrow. How he wished it would never come. Tomorrow would be the last time he would ever see her. Tomorrow he would send her back to Red Rock and back to a world he would never be a part of. And away from his world. A world in which she would never belong. Tomorrow was going to be the worst day of his life.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Preacher checked the time. Almost seven. He figured he should head on back now. By the time he walked back, Heyes and his gal should have had plenty of time to iron out the wrinkles. He had unsaddled the horses and hidden the gear just inside the entrance. The horses were in a small valley about a quarter mile to the east. He'd been sitting on the hill just above the wooden frame keeping a look out for any one or anything for the last three hours. There hadn't been so much as a rabbit to scamper across the grassy fields that stretched out to the west, east and south. And not so much as a sparrow had flown in or out of the grove of trees to the north. He was satisfied that no one had been this way since this morning when he and Miss Evangeline had ridden in. He glanced around one last time as he descended the earthen incline that lead to the tunnels beneath the earth. A movement out of the corner of his eye brought him to a halt. Something in the trees to his left. The fading sunlight didn't provide great light, but he was an outlaw who'd lived his life looking over his shoulder and anticipating trouble. He knew when he saw something. And something had definitely moved. Rifle cocked and aimed he walked back to the edge of the trees. Using his keen eyes and senses he scanned the area, checking behind trees and under bushes. Nothing. He listened. No sound but the rustling leaves and insects. He walked backwards from the thicket of trees, not wanting to leave his back exposed. He did a full turn to survey the entire area one last time. Satisfied that the sinking sun had been playing tricks on his eyes, he disappeared into the earth's gaping mouth, unaware that a lone figure, tall and slim, donning a ten gallon hat, watched from the cover of the trees.
