So, I've decided to self publish, "Evangeline" under the title "Thief of My Heart" through Amazon. But in order to do that I have to change all the names that were associated with the tv show to prevent copyright infringement. And therefore I can't use the show's intro that I used on Wattpad to introduce the boys to the audience. And since the readers will have no idea who our two favorite outlaws are or how they got to where they are at the beginning of the story, I had to write a new chapter to include at the beginning. Here is that chapter. Please give me feedback. This is so important because the first few paragraphs will usually be the deciding factor for most people if they are going to continue to read or not. I also need the boys characters to be established. So please let me know how I did and if I need to change anything, add anything or take anything out. And I apologize that I'm on my way out the door for work and I don't have time to separate the paragraphs and make corrections to spelling and all. I'll try to do it later. I trust you can make sense of it all until I get to it. Thanks again.
Peace. Out. ~ Karen :')
p.s. have a blessed and dimply day
August 1879
He had known it would be a challenge, getting her to open up. But just because she looked prettier and fancier than all the others before her, didn't mean she wouldn't succumb to his masterful touch. Just like all the hundreds who had fallen victim to his skills before her, she would be the next notch on his bedpost. Only he had not anticipated it taking this long. He sat back on his heels and looked up at her with complete and total adoration. She was gorgeous. He almost hated to touch her and spoil the perfection of her untouched beauty. Sweat formed on his brow as he leaned in and pressed his ear closer to the cold steel door of the brand new safe. The First National Bank of Aspen had only recently purchased this masterpiece of ingenuity and he was determined to get inside of her. And if anybody could do it, it was Hannibal Blain. He had been cracking safes since he was a teenager. By the time he was twenty he had mastered the art. He didn't know how he did it. It was just a gift he'd been born with he supposed. He'd tried to teach others how to listen as each tumbler fell into place when he discovered the correct number of the combination. But none had been able to do it. By the time he was twenty-three, and the newest and youngest leader ever of the Hell's Hollow Gang, it had become so easy it had almost bored him. And now at age twenty-eight, he was the only man that he knew of in this country who could crack a safe without blowing it. The older models, sure he had no trouble with those, but the big banks and the best railroads were all investing in bigger and better safes that were becoming more and more difficult to crack. And this beauty was proving to be his biggest challenge yet. And he loved a challenge. Safes were a lot like women. When one was particularly difficult to crack you had to be a little more patient, listen a little more carefully and handle a little more gently. Eventually they all opened up for him....the women and the safes.
Well, at least up until lately. In the last six months, the three biggest safe companies in the country had produced new models that had proven to be his Achilles heel. The last two he had tried to crack he had finally given up and blown with nitro. This Davis and Cooper model 7 it appeared was going to be no exception. He had heard rumors that the D & C number 7 was going to be the one safe that no criminal could get into. He had heard they had made the mechanisms inside so quite and smooth that it was impossible to manipulate the combination. He was hoping to prove those rumors wrong. But he had been sitting here in front of this safe for five hours. And still he couldn't pinpoint all the numbers of the combination. He sighed in frustration as he tried the handle one more time and found it still locked tight.
"Blain, we got about thirty more minutes before the sun comes up. If you've got any rabbits in that genius's hat of yours, you best be pulling them out. Dewey and the rest of the gang already headed back to the hollow." Blain's younger cousin whispered from across the room where he stood watch at the banks front window. Ben Coulter watched the street outside with his shiny Colt .45 ready in his hand. On the other side of the room his life long friend and partner continued to romance the safe at this side. Coulter was twenty-six years old but he looked sixteen. That's why everybody called him Kid. Kid Coulter wasn't a genius when it came to cracking safes, but there wasn't a man this side of the Mississippi who could best him with a gun. He could do with a Colt .45 what Blain could do with a safe. He had been carrying a gun strapped to his right leg since he was fifteen and he swore he limped slightly if he wasn't wearing it. His reputation for quick drawing his gun had meant having to prove his ability more than once But he was so fast that none of his adversaries had even gotten their guns out of their holsters before the Kid was pointing his barrel dead center of their chest. But he never pulled the trigger. He and Blain both shared the belief that it was wrong to kill. That's one reason he wanted to be the best with his gun, so he didn't have to kill. Of course there was the one time when he had pulled the trigger, but he had only shot the man in his shooting arm, rendering it useless for the rest of his life. Warren Boggs had stalked Kid Coulter for months, baiting him, trying his best to pick a fight. But Kid had known what the older gunslinger was up to. He was out to proof that he was the better gunfighter but he wanted Kid to be the one to start the fight. And Blain had always been there, the voice of reason, talking him out of taking it into the street. Until that one day, at Myrtle's Dance Hall when Boggs had gone too far. One thing Kid Coulter could not tolerate was a man mistreating one of his friends or a woman. But when you mistreated one of his friends who also happened to be a woman, well that was just asking for trouble.
Kid looked at Blain who still had not gotten inside the safe. He knew that he and his partner were both going to be asking for big trouble if they didn't leave this bank and start heading out of town in the next ten minutes.
Blain looked up at the safe from his cross legged position on the floor with pleading brown eyes, "Come on, sweetheart. There will never be another tonight and you will never have hands as skilled as these on you again. So let's make it all worthwhile. You know what I need." He closed his eyes and pressed an intent ear to the safe door. A look that resembled ecstasy crossed his face as he heard what he thought was the last number falling into place. With a confidence that only a genius who had honed his craft can have, he wrapped his hand around the handle and ....... it didn't budge.
"That's it, Blain. We've got to go. None of the boys are here to watch our backs now and the sun's starting to come up. If we don't leave now, some body's going to spot us when we leave."
"Alright, Kid. I'm coming." He didn't want to leave. And it wasn't just because of the hundred thousand dollars he knew was waiting inside of her. It had now become a matter of pride. If he failed to open her, word would get out and the name Hannibal Blain wouldn't strike fear and awe into the hearts of lesser criminals and the general public. He and Kid hadn't earned the title of the west's most wanted men by failing to get to the booty. They hadn't earned a ten thousand dollar price on each of their heads by leaving the scene of the crime empty handed. To tell the truth both Blain and Coulter were sort of proud to be known as the most wanted men west of the Mississippi. The only thing they didn't like was the three words that followed the word "wanted" on every poster bearing their names. Those three words, "dead or alive."
They had never really figured out why their bounty was now payable dead or alive. They had never killed anyone. None of the boys in the gang had killed anyone while they were riding with Blain and Coulter. Blain had made it very clear when he became the leader of the gang that innocent people would not be harmed just to make a few dollars. But when you made a few too many bucks the illegal way, the banks and railroads you took it from were willing to pay to see you dead. And now Blain and the Kid had to be extra cautious. If they were recognized by the wrong person they could be shot down for the price on their heads.
The twilight sky was barely holding back the eminent break of dawn, as Blain and Kid mounted their horses. "Well, if you can't crack her, Blain, I don't reckon she can be cracked. At least the boys got out with that five hundred dollars that was in that old safe they were still using inside the bank."
"Just don't sound quite as impressive as one hundred thousand though does it?"
"Now, Blain, don't get down on yourself. You know we heard them rumors that them new D & C number 7's were going to be almost impossible to crack. Even for a genius like you. Maybe it's time we faced it. Times are changing and it's getting harder to get into these safes. Even the ones on the railroads are taking more dynamite to blow. Maybe we should think about retiring to South America."
"Retiring? On what? Until we make one big score, Kid, we can forget it. After we split the money with the rest of the gang there's never enough for us to get across the border, let alone all the way down to South America."
"Well, there is that other option we talked about." Kid took the folded newspaper clipping from his breast pocket. "You remember what it said don't you? That the governor of Wyoming is willing to grant pardons to men 'not yet versed in hard crime.' Everybody knows we ain't never killed anybody. And with all them dime novels and police magazine stories about us, we're pretty popular with the public. I think we should try to get a pardon, Blain. Think about it. If we was pardoned we could go anywhere we wanted without having to worry about who might recognize us or whether or not there was a bounty hunter on our tails. And we might even be able to have a real relationship with a woman for a change. Not just taking a few hours from one of the girls at the local brothel. Don't you ever think about it? Don't you ever wish we could just be normal people who work for a living and go home to a loving family every night?"
"Kid, you know having a normal life like that is not in the cards for us. Never has been and never will be. Even if I did want that kind of life, didn't you hear what you just said. 'Not versed in hard crime?' Well, I think having robbed more trains and banks than I can even remember over the last fifteen years is going to be considered hard crime. Besides that, what do you want us to do? Walk right up to the governor's office at the capitol and ask for it? We can't do that. We'd be locked up before we got the first words out of our mouths."
Kid's boyish face fell with disappointment. "Yep, I guess you're right. But it was nice to think about anyway."
The boys turned their mounts to head down the alley that would lead them to the street behind the bank and out of town. They had sat and talked for too long. The first golden rays of dawn were piercing the darkness of twilight. It made Blain uncomfortable. He liked having the cloak of darkness covering them until they got far from town. They passed the livery stables and the owner was out front opening his business for the day. The mercantile owner was just opening his doors. And two women with eggs to sell in their baskets were heading for the local cafe. They were getting some awfully suspicious glances that Blain and Kid did not like.
Blain leaned closer to his partner, "Maybe we better split up and meet somewhere outside of town. People will be less suspicious of us if we're not together." He glanced around and caught sight of several more townsfolk.
"No, Blain. You know something bad always happens when we split up."
"Come on, Kid. It will just be for the few minutes it will take us to get out of town."
"Alright, but I don't like it. I'll meet you in fifteen minutes by that grove of apple trees just outside of town."
Blain turned his horse and headed down a side street. Hopefully none of the townsfolk who saw them would be suspicious enough to alert the law. And surely none of them would notice the iron bars that had been spread apart with a mechanical bar spreader on the banks window. Not much further and they would be home free. They would be out of town, and he and Kid would join back up and they would head back to the hollow. Hopefully, Dewey and the rest of the boys.....he never finished that thought as a bullet whizzed past his left ear. He whipped the flanks of this horse with the reins and bent low over the horses neck as it shot forward. He could hear voices yelling in the distance and then more shots from behind him whizzed past his head. He could hear more gunfire from the other side of the buildings to his right. They were shooting at Kid too.
He emerged from behind the last building and looked behind to see Kid close behind, also at a full out gallop. They rode as hard and as fast as they could, but when he looked back again, there was a six man posse on their tails. They could outrun them. They had outrun dozens of posses before. They would do it again.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~
One week later, Hardyville, Wyoming
"Help you? Why, I should be arresting the both of you right now," Sheriff Lennie Jaggers exclaimed as he scowled at the two outlaws he had once called friends.
"Now, Lennie, you know me and the Kid always thought a lot of you. We didn't even hold a grudge when you left the gang to become a lawman," Blain said with a dimpled smile as he perched himself on the corner of Lennie's big wooden desk.
"Yeah, and we never pulled a single job in this town or this county since you become sheriff of Hardyville," Kid added. "We didn't want bring any trouble to your doorstep."
"So, will you help us or not? We don't exactly have many friends who are in your line of business, Len. Who better to go to the governor and tell him that we've turned over a new leaf and want a pardon so that we can have normal law abiding lives like everybody else."
"I can't do it. He'd laugh me right out of his office. He was offerering pardons to pick pockets and chicken thieves. Not to the two men responsible for two thirds of the money that's been stolen in the western half of the country in the last five years."
"So, we're overachievers. Does that mean we don't deserve a chance at a new life like other folks? We never hurt anybody in any of those robberies. Me and the Kid don't believe in killing people. You know that."
The boys exchanged looks. They knew their old friend was going to be a hard sell. It was time for Hannibal Blain to whip out his silvery tongue and let it work its magic.
"But if you can't help us right now, we understand, Len. Really we do. We can't blame you for not wanting to get mixed up in our little dreams. I mean you've been lucky enough to get out of the business and get a fine upstanding job, a nice home, pretty wife. I can see why you wouldn't give two cents if me and the Kid get stuck in a way of life that has no hope of a future. Well, unless you count prison as a future." Blain slapped his partner's shoulder and headed for the door. "Or a pine box," he turned to add quickly. "Come on, Kid. I'll treat you to a beer. Then we can take that long lonely ride back to Hell's Hollow where we'll bunk down by ourselves after eating a cold leftover meal from whatever Dewey and the rest of the boys made for supper. We've been doing it for years, what's one more night of it?"
"If we don't get arrested or shot before we get there," Kid said with a sigh in his voice and his head hanging slightly.
"Wait, boys."
Blain and Kid shared a triumphant smile before turning again to face their old friend.
"I know you boys stayed out of Hardyville to protect my reputation. I appreciate that. And I know that you two boys are good hearted men who just didn't have the same luck as most folks do when they're kids. That's how you got into the business in the first place, losing your folks like you did. So, I'll talk to the governor for you."
Blain and Kid couldn't keep the boyish grins from their faces. Blain offered his hand to Lennie. "Thanks, Len. I told Kid you'd help us," Blain said as he vigorously pumped the fist of the other man up and down.
"I wasn't finished, boys. I'll talk to the governor on one condition."
The boys' smiles disappeared. "What condition?" Kid asked.
"On the condition that the two of you swear right here in this office that you'll leave the gang and Hell's Hollow immediately and you'll stop committing crimes. I want the two of you to find honest work and stay at it. When I talk to the governor I want to be able to show him that you two have turned over a new leaf and that you're sincere about wanting to stay clean. Even then there's no guarantee that he'll grant you the pardon."
"You think he's gonna want us to prove we can stay straight?" Kid asked with a gulp.
"I think that's exactly what he's going to want. So it's best if you start now and prove to me and to the governor that you can live nice clean, law abiding lives. You can do it boys, I know you can."
They boys both laughed nervously. They hadn't held a real job since they were teenagers. They didn't know if they were cut out for it.
"And if you can stay clean for a year or two, I'm sure the governor will grant you boys that pardon."
"A year or two!" both boys exclaimed in unison.
"And what do we do in the meantime? Will we still be wanted?" Kid asked, getting a little upset.
"I'm afraid so, boys. But if you keep your noses clean, you won't run into any trouble."
"What if somebody recognizes us?" Blain asked. "No body's going to care if we're trying to go straight. All they're going to care about is the ten thousand on each of ours heads."
"If it's worth having, fellas, it's worth working for. You'll be free men if the governor agrees to pardon you. And freedom doesn't come free."
The boys held a silent conversation as they held each other's gaze. It was either accept the terms or start planning their next heist and stay caught in the same vicious cycle they so desperately wanted to escape.
Kid gave a brief quick nod, letting his partner know they were in agreement. Blain took a deep breath. "Alright, Lennie. For one year, you've got us. We'll stay on the straight and and narrow and proof to you that we're not just blowing smoke up your ass. This is something we want. And we're willing to do what it takes to make it happen."
"That's good boys. I know you can do this. After all, you're both better men than you give yourselves credit for. You won't regret..."
The door to the sheriff's office swung open and a small, frail looking man came in leaning heavily on a cane. "Lennie, I thought we were supposed to meet for supper fifteen minutes ago. What in the sam hill is keeping you? Oh, pardon me, I didn't know you had business to attend to."
"Oh, no, Mayor, I was just finishing up here. I'm on my way right now. Boys, we'll finish this business tomorrow."
"I can wait while you finish up, Lennie. Are you gentlemen new in town? I don't recall seeing you before."
"Ah, these are just some old friends who stopped by to say hello."
"A friend of the sheriff's is a friend of mine. Pleased to meet you, ah, Mr......" the mayor extended his hand, waiting for an introduction.
Blain shook his hand and blurted the first thing that came to his mind, "Smith." He inwardly groaned and rolled his eyes slightly at his own lack of imagination. Surely the Kid would do better.
The mayor looked expectantly at the Kid waiting for him to introduce himself. "Uh, Jones," he said weakly as he shook the mayor's hand. Blain closed his eyes and shifted his lower jaw in frustration.
"Pleased to meet you, Smith, Jones. Now are we all going to stand here or are we going to supper?"
"Mr. Smith and Mr. Jones have to be going, mayor. They only stopped in to....."
"Nonsense! A friend of yours is a friend of mine, Lennie. Supper's on me, boys. And no talk of having to rush off. That's the trouble with this country these days. You young folks are always in a hurry to be going somewhere. The way you youngen's run around you'd think Kid Coulter and Hannibal Blain were on your tails."
The mayor broke into a bout laughter that seemed unusually robust for such a small man. The other three men in the room looked at each other nervously before joining the mayor in with half hearted laughter.
Lennie looked at the boys with warning in his eyes. "What are you waiting for,boys. Let's go to supper." His invitation was a little less than cordial.
"Well, Kid. Looks like this will be our first test to see if we can live among those on the right side of the law," Blain whispered to his partner as they followed the mayor and Lennie into the streets of Hardyville.
"What if we can't do it, Blain?" Kid whispered. "What if we slip up and call each other our real names?"
"We'll just have to work at it. And we better be coming up with fake first names too."
"How about something from the good book. That'll be easy to remember."
Blain thought for a moment. "Matthew. That's gonna be your alias from now on. Matthew Jones."
"Oh? You get to decide my name?" Kid asked, a little miffed.
"Well, you're the one who couldn't do any better than 'Jones.' You doin' the thinking has got us into trouble more than once. I am the brains in this operation after all."
"So sorry I didn't live up to your expectations there, Mr. Smith. Alright. Fine. I'll be Matthew. Let's hurry up, Levi. I'm hungry."
"What'd you call me?"
"Levi. That's your new name. Levi Smith. Thank goodness for the Sunday school lessons back at the orphan's home, huh?"
Blain just shook his head. He wanted to pick his own alias. But he couldn't very well argue the fact with his partner right here in the middle of the street with the sheriff and the mayor within ear shot. But then again, he hadn't got to pick his name when he was born. So it only made it more believable to have an alias that he hadn't picked either. Levi Smith. He listened to the sound of it in his head. He wasn't sure he like it. Thank goodness he had time to pick something else before they sat down to supper with the mayor.
The mayor turned to yell back to the two lagging outlaws, "You two better get a move on. If Lennie gets there first, there won't be any food left."
Kid ran ahead of Blain, not liking the thought of being cheated out of a free meal, even if it meant eating with a lawman and a mayor. "I'm right behind you, mayor," Kid called out.
"I never got your first name, Mr. Jones."
"Matthew. Matthew Jones."
"Pleasure, Matt. I'm Mayor John Hardy."
"And that there is my friend, Levi Smith," Kid said with a mischievous glint in his blue eyes. He knew Blain didn't want someone else picking his name. He only smiled when he clearly read "I'll get you back, later" in his partner's deep brown eyes.
"Pleasure to meet you too, Levi. You two sound like nice, clean cut American boys. I do hope you'll will consider staying on here in town permanently. We could use more trustworthy young folk around here."
Blain had to struggle to keep from laughing out loud. Trustworthy young folk, huh? If he only knew, he thought. There would have been no supper invitation if they had introduced themselves as Hannibal Blain and Ben Coulter. Strange what having a different name could do. But it didn't change who they really were. And unless the governor came through with this pardon, they were destined to live a cold and lonely existence, moving from town to town, job to job, using assumed names. They'd never know the comfort of the word "home" or the warmth of being in the bosom of family. Those were the things that normal, law abiding people did. Not two outlaws who were trying to go straight. And certainly not two outlaws named Hannibal Blain and Kid Coulter. As he watched his younger cousin help the old mayor up the steps onto the boardwalk in front of the cafe, he wondered if they were doing the right thing. Once word got out that they'd retired from the business, there would be no going back. They would have to see this pardon thing through to the end. That meant keeping their noses clean while dodging the law and bounty hunters for a year or maybe longer. And there wouldn't be any impenetrable fortress like Hell's Hollow to hide in and no gang to watch their backs. They would be on their own. It was going to be a hard year. But like Lennie had said, "If it's worth having, it's worth working for."
Lennie was waiting at the door when he stepped up on the boardwalk. "You two couldn't do any better than Smith and Jones?" he grumbled under his breath.
"Sorry, Len. We were kinda on the spot."
"I guess you're stuck with those names now. From today on, Hannibal Blain and Kid Coulter don't exist. You're both just hard working American men. Peace loving, law abiding men. You're now aka Smith and Jones."
Lennie went inside, leaving Blain outside by himself. Hard working? Peace loving? Law abiding? He closed his eyes and sighed. Yep, this was going to be a hard year.
Peace. Out. ~ Karen :')
p.s. have a blessed and dimply day
August 1879
He had known it would be a challenge, getting her to open up. But just because she looked prettier and fancier than all the others before her, didn't mean she wouldn't succumb to his masterful touch. Just like all the hundreds who had fallen victim to his skills before her, she would be the next notch on his bedpost. Only he had not anticipated it taking this long. He sat back on his heels and looked up at her with complete and total adoration. She was gorgeous. He almost hated to touch her and spoil the perfection of her untouched beauty. Sweat formed on his brow as he leaned in and pressed his ear closer to the cold steel door of the brand new safe. The First National Bank of Aspen had only recently purchased this masterpiece of ingenuity and he was determined to get inside of her. And if anybody could do it, it was Hannibal Blain. He had been cracking safes since he was a teenager. By the time he was twenty he had mastered the art. He didn't know how he did it. It was just a gift he'd been born with he supposed. He'd tried to teach others how to listen as each tumbler fell into place when he discovered the correct number of the combination. But none had been able to do it. By the time he was twenty-three, and the newest and youngest leader ever of the Hell's Hollow Gang, it had become so easy it had almost bored him. And now at age twenty-eight, he was the only man that he knew of in this country who could crack a safe without blowing it. The older models, sure he had no trouble with those, but the big banks and the best railroads were all investing in bigger and better safes that were becoming more and more difficult to crack. And this beauty was proving to be his biggest challenge yet. And he loved a challenge. Safes were a lot like women. When one was particularly difficult to crack you had to be a little more patient, listen a little more carefully and handle a little more gently. Eventually they all opened up for him....the women and the safes.
Well, at least up until lately. In the last six months, the three biggest safe companies in the country had produced new models that had proven to be his Achilles heel. The last two he had tried to crack he had finally given up and blown with nitro. This Davis and Cooper model 7 it appeared was going to be no exception. He had heard rumors that the D & C number 7 was going to be the one safe that no criminal could get into. He had heard they had made the mechanisms inside so quite and smooth that it was impossible to manipulate the combination. He was hoping to prove those rumors wrong. But he had been sitting here in front of this safe for five hours. And still he couldn't pinpoint all the numbers of the combination. He sighed in frustration as he tried the handle one more time and found it still locked tight.
"Blain, we got about thirty more minutes before the sun comes up. If you've got any rabbits in that genius's hat of yours, you best be pulling them out. Dewey and the rest of the gang already headed back to the hollow." Blain's younger cousin whispered from across the room where he stood watch at the banks front window. Ben Coulter watched the street outside with his shiny Colt .45 ready in his hand. On the other side of the room his life long friend and partner continued to romance the safe at this side. Coulter was twenty-six years old but he looked sixteen. That's why everybody called him Kid. Kid Coulter wasn't a genius when it came to cracking safes, but there wasn't a man this side of the Mississippi who could best him with a gun. He could do with a Colt .45 what Blain could do with a safe. He had been carrying a gun strapped to his right leg since he was fifteen and he swore he limped slightly if he wasn't wearing it. His reputation for quick drawing his gun had meant having to prove his ability more than once But he was so fast that none of his adversaries had even gotten their guns out of their holsters before the Kid was pointing his barrel dead center of their chest. But he never pulled the trigger. He and Blain both shared the belief that it was wrong to kill. That's one reason he wanted to be the best with his gun, so he didn't have to kill. Of course there was the one time when he had pulled the trigger, but he had only shot the man in his shooting arm, rendering it useless for the rest of his life. Warren Boggs had stalked Kid Coulter for months, baiting him, trying his best to pick a fight. But Kid had known what the older gunslinger was up to. He was out to proof that he was the better gunfighter but he wanted Kid to be the one to start the fight. And Blain had always been there, the voice of reason, talking him out of taking it into the street. Until that one day, at Myrtle's Dance Hall when Boggs had gone too far. One thing Kid Coulter could not tolerate was a man mistreating one of his friends or a woman. But when you mistreated one of his friends who also happened to be a woman, well that was just asking for trouble.
Kid looked at Blain who still had not gotten inside the safe. He knew that he and his partner were both going to be asking for big trouble if they didn't leave this bank and start heading out of town in the next ten minutes.
Blain looked up at the safe from his cross legged position on the floor with pleading brown eyes, "Come on, sweetheart. There will never be another tonight and you will never have hands as skilled as these on you again. So let's make it all worthwhile. You know what I need." He closed his eyes and pressed an intent ear to the safe door. A look that resembled ecstasy crossed his face as he heard what he thought was the last number falling into place. With a confidence that only a genius who had honed his craft can have, he wrapped his hand around the handle and ....... it didn't budge.
"That's it, Blain. We've got to go. None of the boys are here to watch our backs now and the sun's starting to come up. If we don't leave now, some body's going to spot us when we leave."
"Alright, Kid. I'm coming." He didn't want to leave. And it wasn't just because of the hundred thousand dollars he knew was waiting inside of her. It had now become a matter of pride. If he failed to open her, word would get out and the name Hannibal Blain wouldn't strike fear and awe into the hearts of lesser criminals and the general public. He and Kid hadn't earned the title of the west's most wanted men by failing to get to the booty. They hadn't earned a ten thousand dollar price on each of their heads by leaving the scene of the crime empty handed. To tell the truth both Blain and Coulter were sort of proud to be known as the most wanted men west of the Mississippi. The only thing they didn't like was the three words that followed the word "wanted" on every poster bearing their names. Those three words, "dead or alive."
They had never really figured out why their bounty was now payable dead or alive. They had never killed anyone. None of the boys in the gang had killed anyone while they were riding with Blain and Coulter. Blain had made it very clear when he became the leader of the gang that innocent people would not be harmed just to make a few dollars. But when you made a few too many bucks the illegal way, the banks and railroads you took it from were willing to pay to see you dead. And now Blain and the Kid had to be extra cautious. If they were recognized by the wrong person they could be shot down for the price on their heads.
The twilight sky was barely holding back the eminent break of dawn, as Blain and Kid mounted their horses. "Well, if you can't crack her, Blain, I don't reckon she can be cracked. At least the boys got out with that five hundred dollars that was in that old safe they were still using inside the bank."
"Just don't sound quite as impressive as one hundred thousand though does it?"
"Now, Blain, don't get down on yourself. You know we heard them rumors that them new D & C number 7's were going to be almost impossible to crack. Even for a genius like you. Maybe it's time we faced it. Times are changing and it's getting harder to get into these safes. Even the ones on the railroads are taking more dynamite to blow. Maybe we should think about retiring to South America."
"Retiring? On what? Until we make one big score, Kid, we can forget it. After we split the money with the rest of the gang there's never enough for us to get across the border, let alone all the way down to South America."
"Well, there is that other option we talked about." Kid took the folded newspaper clipping from his breast pocket. "You remember what it said don't you? That the governor of Wyoming is willing to grant pardons to men 'not yet versed in hard crime.' Everybody knows we ain't never killed anybody. And with all them dime novels and police magazine stories about us, we're pretty popular with the public. I think we should try to get a pardon, Blain. Think about it. If we was pardoned we could go anywhere we wanted without having to worry about who might recognize us or whether or not there was a bounty hunter on our tails. And we might even be able to have a real relationship with a woman for a change. Not just taking a few hours from one of the girls at the local brothel. Don't you ever think about it? Don't you ever wish we could just be normal people who work for a living and go home to a loving family every night?"
"Kid, you know having a normal life like that is not in the cards for us. Never has been and never will be. Even if I did want that kind of life, didn't you hear what you just said. 'Not versed in hard crime?' Well, I think having robbed more trains and banks than I can even remember over the last fifteen years is going to be considered hard crime. Besides that, what do you want us to do? Walk right up to the governor's office at the capitol and ask for it? We can't do that. We'd be locked up before we got the first words out of our mouths."
Kid's boyish face fell with disappointment. "Yep, I guess you're right. But it was nice to think about anyway."
The boys turned their mounts to head down the alley that would lead them to the street behind the bank and out of town. They had sat and talked for too long. The first golden rays of dawn were piercing the darkness of twilight. It made Blain uncomfortable. He liked having the cloak of darkness covering them until they got far from town. They passed the livery stables and the owner was out front opening his business for the day. The mercantile owner was just opening his doors. And two women with eggs to sell in their baskets were heading for the local cafe. They were getting some awfully suspicious glances that Blain and Kid did not like.
Blain leaned closer to his partner, "Maybe we better split up and meet somewhere outside of town. People will be less suspicious of us if we're not together." He glanced around and caught sight of several more townsfolk.
"No, Blain. You know something bad always happens when we split up."
"Come on, Kid. It will just be for the few minutes it will take us to get out of town."
"Alright, but I don't like it. I'll meet you in fifteen minutes by that grove of apple trees just outside of town."
Blain turned his horse and headed down a side street. Hopefully none of the townsfolk who saw them would be suspicious enough to alert the law. And surely none of them would notice the iron bars that had been spread apart with a mechanical bar spreader on the banks window. Not much further and they would be home free. They would be out of town, and he and Kid would join back up and they would head back to the hollow. Hopefully, Dewey and the rest of the boys.....he never finished that thought as a bullet whizzed past his left ear. He whipped the flanks of this horse with the reins and bent low over the horses neck as it shot forward. He could hear voices yelling in the distance and then more shots from behind him whizzed past his head. He could hear more gunfire from the other side of the buildings to his right. They were shooting at Kid too.
He emerged from behind the last building and looked behind to see Kid close behind, also at a full out gallop. They rode as hard and as fast as they could, but when he looked back again, there was a six man posse on their tails. They could outrun them. They had outrun dozens of posses before. They would do it again.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~
One week later, Hardyville, Wyoming
"Help you? Why, I should be arresting the both of you right now," Sheriff Lennie Jaggers exclaimed as he scowled at the two outlaws he had once called friends.
"Now, Lennie, you know me and the Kid always thought a lot of you. We didn't even hold a grudge when you left the gang to become a lawman," Blain said with a dimpled smile as he perched himself on the corner of Lennie's big wooden desk.
"Yeah, and we never pulled a single job in this town or this county since you become sheriff of Hardyville," Kid added. "We didn't want bring any trouble to your doorstep."
"So, will you help us or not? We don't exactly have many friends who are in your line of business, Len. Who better to go to the governor and tell him that we've turned over a new leaf and want a pardon so that we can have normal law abiding lives like everybody else."
"I can't do it. He'd laugh me right out of his office. He was offerering pardons to pick pockets and chicken thieves. Not to the two men responsible for two thirds of the money that's been stolen in the western half of the country in the last five years."
"So, we're overachievers. Does that mean we don't deserve a chance at a new life like other folks? We never hurt anybody in any of those robberies. Me and the Kid don't believe in killing people. You know that."
The boys exchanged looks. They knew their old friend was going to be a hard sell. It was time for Hannibal Blain to whip out his silvery tongue and let it work its magic.
"But if you can't help us right now, we understand, Len. Really we do. We can't blame you for not wanting to get mixed up in our little dreams. I mean you've been lucky enough to get out of the business and get a fine upstanding job, a nice home, pretty wife. I can see why you wouldn't give two cents if me and the Kid get stuck in a way of life that has no hope of a future. Well, unless you count prison as a future." Blain slapped his partner's shoulder and headed for the door. "Or a pine box," he turned to add quickly. "Come on, Kid. I'll treat you to a beer. Then we can take that long lonely ride back to Hell's Hollow where we'll bunk down by ourselves after eating a cold leftover meal from whatever Dewey and the rest of the boys made for supper. We've been doing it for years, what's one more night of it?"
"If we don't get arrested or shot before we get there," Kid said with a sigh in his voice and his head hanging slightly.
"Wait, boys."
Blain and Kid shared a triumphant smile before turning again to face their old friend.
"I know you boys stayed out of Hardyville to protect my reputation. I appreciate that. And I know that you two boys are good hearted men who just didn't have the same luck as most folks do when they're kids. That's how you got into the business in the first place, losing your folks like you did. So, I'll talk to the governor for you."
Blain and Kid couldn't keep the boyish grins from their faces. Blain offered his hand to Lennie. "Thanks, Len. I told Kid you'd help us," Blain said as he vigorously pumped the fist of the other man up and down.
"I wasn't finished, boys. I'll talk to the governor on one condition."
The boys' smiles disappeared. "What condition?" Kid asked.
"On the condition that the two of you swear right here in this office that you'll leave the gang and Hell's Hollow immediately and you'll stop committing crimes. I want the two of you to find honest work and stay at it. When I talk to the governor I want to be able to show him that you two have turned over a new leaf and that you're sincere about wanting to stay clean. Even then there's no guarantee that he'll grant you the pardon."
"You think he's gonna want us to prove we can stay straight?" Kid asked with a gulp.
"I think that's exactly what he's going to want. So it's best if you start now and prove to me and to the governor that you can live nice clean, law abiding lives. You can do it boys, I know you can."
They boys both laughed nervously. They hadn't held a real job since they were teenagers. They didn't know if they were cut out for it.
"And if you can stay clean for a year or two, I'm sure the governor will grant you boys that pardon."
"A year or two!" both boys exclaimed in unison.
"And what do we do in the meantime? Will we still be wanted?" Kid asked, getting a little upset.
"I'm afraid so, boys. But if you keep your noses clean, you won't run into any trouble."
"What if somebody recognizes us?" Blain asked. "No body's going to care if we're trying to go straight. All they're going to care about is the ten thousand on each of ours heads."
"If it's worth having, fellas, it's worth working for. You'll be free men if the governor agrees to pardon you. And freedom doesn't come free."
The boys held a silent conversation as they held each other's gaze. It was either accept the terms or start planning their next heist and stay caught in the same vicious cycle they so desperately wanted to escape.
Kid gave a brief quick nod, letting his partner know they were in agreement. Blain took a deep breath. "Alright, Lennie. For one year, you've got us. We'll stay on the straight and and narrow and proof to you that we're not just blowing smoke up your ass. This is something we want. And we're willing to do what it takes to make it happen."
"That's good boys. I know you can do this. After all, you're both better men than you give yourselves credit for. You won't regret..."
The door to the sheriff's office swung open and a small, frail looking man came in leaning heavily on a cane. "Lennie, I thought we were supposed to meet for supper fifteen minutes ago. What in the sam hill is keeping you? Oh, pardon me, I didn't know you had business to attend to."
"Oh, no, Mayor, I was just finishing up here. I'm on my way right now. Boys, we'll finish this business tomorrow."
"I can wait while you finish up, Lennie. Are you gentlemen new in town? I don't recall seeing you before."
"Ah, these are just some old friends who stopped by to say hello."
"A friend of the sheriff's is a friend of mine. Pleased to meet you, ah, Mr......" the mayor extended his hand, waiting for an introduction.
Blain shook his hand and blurted the first thing that came to his mind, "Smith." He inwardly groaned and rolled his eyes slightly at his own lack of imagination. Surely the Kid would do better.
The mayor looked expectantly at the Kid waiting for him to introduce himself. "Uh, Jones," he said weakly as he shook the mayor's hand. Blain closed his eyes and shifted his lower jaw in frustration.
"Pleased to meet you, Smith, Jones. Now are we all going to stand here or are we going to supper?"
"Mr. Smith and Mr. Jones have to be going, mayor. They only stopped in to....."
"Nonsense! A friend of yours is a friend of mine, Lennie. Supper's on me, boys. And no talk of having to rush off. That's the trouble with this country these days. You young folks are always in a hurry to be going somewhere. The way you youngen's run around you'd think Kid Coulter and Hannibal Blain were on your tails."
The mayor broke into a bout laughter that seemed unusually robust for such a small man. The other three men in the room looked at each other nervously before joining the mayor in with half hearted laughter.
Lennie looked at the boys with warning in his eyes. "What are you waiting for,boys. Let's go to supper." His invitation was a little less than cordial.
"Well, Kid. Looks like this will be our first test to see if we can live among those on the right side of the law," Blain whispered to his partner as they followed the mayor and Lennie into the streets of Hardyville.
"What if we can't do it, Blain?" Kid whispered. "What if we slip up and call each other our real names?"
"We'll just have to work at it. And we better be coming up with fake first names too."
"How about something from the good book. That'll be easy to remember."
Blain thought for a moment. "Matthew. That's gonna be your alias from now on. Matthew Jones."
"Oh? You get to decide my name?" Kid asked, a little miffed.
"Well, you're the one who couldn't do any better than 'Jones.' You doin' the thinking has got us into trouble more than once. I am the brains in this operation after all."
"So sorry I didn't live up to your expectations there, Mr. Smith. Alright. Fine. I'll be Matthew. Let's hurry up, Levi. I'm hungry."
"What'd you call me?"
"Levi. That's your new name. Levi Smith. Thank goodness for the Sunday school lessons back at the orphan's home, huh?"
Blain just shook his head. He wanted to pick his own alias. But he couldn't very well argue the fact with his partner right here in the middle of the street with the sheriff and the mayor within ear shot. But then again, he hadn't got to pick his name when he was born. So it only made it more believable to have an alias that he hadn't picked either. Levi Smith. He listened to the sound of it in his head. He wasn't sure he like it. Thank goodness he had time to pick something else before they sat down to supper with the mayor.
The mayor turned to yell back to the two lagging outlaws, "You two better get a move on. If Lennie gets there first, there won't be any food left."
Kid ran ahead of Blain, not liking the thought of being cheated out of a free meal, even if it meant eating with a lawman and a mayor. "I'm right behind you, mayor," Kid called out.
"I never got your first name, Mr. Jones."
"Matthew. Matthew Jones."
"Pleasure, Matt. I'm Mayor John Hardy."
"And that there is my friend, Levi Smith," Kid said with a mischievous glint in his blue eyes. He knew Blain didn't want someone else picking his name. He only smiled when he clearly read "I'll get you back, later" in his partner's deep brown eyes.
"Pleasure to meet you too, Levi. You two sound like nice, clean cut American boys. I do hope you'll will consider staying on here in town permanently. We could use more trustworthy young folk around here."
Blain had to struggle to keep from laughing out loud. Trustworthy young folk, huh? If he only knew, he thought. There would have been no supper invitation if they had introduced themselves as Hannibal Blain and Ben Coulter. Strange what having a different name could do. But it didn't change who they really were. And unless the governor came through with this pardon, they were destined to live a cold and lonely existence, moving from town to town, job to job, using assumed names. They'd never know the comfort of the word "home" or the warmth of being in the bosom of family. Those were the things that normal, law abiding people did. Not two outlaws who were trying to go straight. And certainly not two outlaws named Hannibal Blain and Kid Coulter. As he watched his younger cousin help the old mayor up the steps onto the boardwalk in front of the cafe, he wondered if they were doing the right thing. Once word got out that they'd retired from the business, there would be no going back. They would have to see this pardon thing through to the end. That meant keeping their noses clean while dodging the law and bounty hunters for a year or maybe longer. And there wouldn't be any impenetrable fortress like Hell's Hollow to hide in and no gang to watch their backs. They would be on their own. It was going to be a hard year. But like Lennie had said, "If it's worth having, it's worth working for."
Lennie was waiting at the door when he stepped up on the boardwalk. "You two couldn't do any better than Smith and Jones?" he grumbled under his breath.
"Sorry, Len. We were kinda on the spot."
"I guess you're stuck with those names now. From today on, Hannibal Blain and Kid Coulter don't exist. You're both just hard working American men. Peace loving, law abiding men. You're now aka Smith and Jones."
Lennie went inside, leaving Blain outside by himself. Hard working? Peace loving? Law abiding? He closed his eyes and sighed. Yep, this was going to be a hard year.
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