Redemption
Boston, October 22, 1881
"Open the windows, Martha, and let some air in here."
The trusted house servant did as she was told, raising the heavy paned windows of the stuffy room. The fire in the fireplace had been built much hotter than was necessary, even though the autumns in Boston were quite chilly. But the hot fire had been necessary to boil water. The boiling water had been necessary to sterilize everything that might be needed.
"I can't do this," she gasped out between labored breaths. "I can't. I'm going to die. It hurts too much. Is it supposed to hurt this bad?" she asked, squeezing tightly the hand of the woman who was not only one of her only remaining relatives, but who she also now thought of as her best friend.
"How should I know? I've never done this before either. But you're wrong. You can do this. Women have been doing it for thousands of years. Most of them survived." She looked down into the face of the woman she had come to love so dearly and she brushed the damp hair from her forehead. "And so will you." She locked concerned eyes with the equally concerned servant who was laying out clean towels and a sterilized needle and thread.
"Here it comes again," she said, panting. "Oh, sweet Lord. I feel like I'm being ripped in half!"
"Hold my hand. Squeeze it hard."
Martha rushed to stand between the naked, bent knees of the woman she loved like a daughter. "I can see the head. It's time to start pushing."
"Oh, God, I can't do this!"
"Yes, you can. Martha and I are not going to let you give up. Now squeeze my hand and push!"
She bore down with everything she had. She wanted it to be over. She let out a scream as the pain became unbearable. Then the pain passed and she fell back again against the pillows.
"The head is out!" Martha announced with a smile on her face.
"Good, girl. Just a little more and it will be over."
"One more good push is all it's going to take," Martha said with confidence, having been witness to this miracle several times before.
"You hear that? One more good push and you can rest. Now come on. Push!!"
The push came with an earsplitting scream of agony. Then there was silence, a think heavy silence, as a pair of blue eyes and a pair of green ones locked in a fearful gaze.
The new mother collapsed back onto the pillows of the bed, exhausted and spent. She had never been this tired in her life. She lay there fighting the sleep that was pulling her into its welcome embrace. She couldn't sleep yet, not until she heard the cry. When long moments passed and still there was only silence, she raised herself on shaky elbows to see what was going on. The other two women in the room were standing with their backs to her in front of the wash basin. What was going on? Panic started to grow inside of her. Why wasn't he crying? Shouldn't he be crying. She had never known the kind of fear she knew in this moment. She was silently begging God to spare the tiny miracle she had just worked so hard to bring into the world when a high pitched quivering wail split the air. "Thank you," she mumbled as she fell back again against the pillows.
"Here you are, mama," Martha said lovingly as she placed the tiny wrapped bundle in her arms. She pushed the covering back to reveal the head full of hair on the tiny head. Then the tiny slits of the baby's eyes opened and looked at her. She couldn't control the tears that began to stream down her face. The tears were a mixture of joy and sorrow. The joy came from holding her child that had been joyfully conceived and whom she had carried in her womb for nine months. The sorrow came from looking into a mirror image of the baby's father. The same hair and eyes that were the exact same color as her child's father. The father her child would never know.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"We have to find a way to get them out. Now it's even more important that we do," Evangeline Webb told her aunt Olivia who was busy bundling the newest member of the family tightly into a warm blanket. "And there's only one way I can think of that will work."
"What's that?"
"Good old fashioned bribery. I haven't met a politician yet who would turn down cold hard cash. And cash is something I have plenty of."
"What if he doesn't go along with it. Then you and I will go to jail for soliciting bribes. Martha will have to raise the baby by herself."
"That won't happen. I've been handing out campaign funds to politicians since Papa died. They all have a price. We just have to come up with some clever way to get an appointment with the governor of Wyoming and from there we'll play it by ear."
"Speaking of playing by ear, I think i know of a way to meet the governor." Livvy perked, her attention gained. "Professor Schindler practically begged me to go out west with him and give a few concerts. But I told him I couldn't go this time, with the baby being due to arrive so soon. But he told me if I would like to go when they return in the spring, the invitation would be open. He is such a sweet man and he'd do anything I asked him to do. If I ask, I know he'll arrange a concert in Cheyenne and make sure that the governor is present. We can meet him and casually bring up the subject of men in prison and how would one go about getting a man released. We would be able to tell if he was receptive or not. And if he seems reluctant then we'll think of something else."
"That might work. I can usually size up a man on the first meeting. Especially when it comes to money. If he's bribable, I'll know it."
"And if he isn't?"
"Dynamite is cheaper by the gross."
"Ha ha. Very funny. But seriously," Evie reached for the swaddled bundle of love that her aunt held in her lap, "he deserves to know his child." She placed a tender kiss on the smooth pink cheek.
"Yes, he does. And his child deserves to know him. And neither of them deserves to be in that horrible prison. They're not murderers or rapists. All they ever did was rob a few banks and trains."
Evie's eyebrows raised whimsically. "I seem to recall a time when I said those words to you and you locked me in my room afterwards."
Livvy looked downward with shame and embarrassment. "That was before."
"Before what?"
"Before I knew who they really were."
"And before...."
"Before I was able to see that they really were trying to turn over a new leaf and live law abiding lives."
"And before you fell in love with Jed Curry."
Livvy's mouth fell open for a moment before she snapped it shut again. She took the hours old baby from her niece's arms and stroked the soft tuft of hair atop its tiny head. "My what a head of hair you have, my darling angel."
"Don't change the subject, Livvy. Is it so hard to admit that you, Olivia Vanderbilt, strong, independent entrepreneur are in love? That you need someone besides yourself?"
"I am not. And I do not."
"Oh, come on, Livvy. You've talked about Jed almost as much as I've talked about Hannibal over the past nine months. And do you think I don't see the dreamy far off look you get in your eyes when you're daydreaming about him? When I was falling in love with Hannibal, everyone made sure to point out all the signs for me. And all of those signs are present in you. A wise woman once told me that if he's the last thing on your mind when you go to bed and the first thing on your mind when you wake up, you're in love with him. So don't deny it. He's on your mind constantly just like Hannibal is on mine."
"Who was the wise woman who told you that?"
"Sally, the saloon girl from Alpine."
"Ooooh. Why did you have to bring her up? You know I hate it when you talk about her."
"Why? Jealous? Another sign of being in love."
Livvy huffed and pursed her lips. "I am not jealous of a cheap, beer swigging saloon tramp. It just makes me angry to think of Jed Curry putting his hands on that....that...."
"On any other woman except you." Evie smiled devilishly at her aunt. "In love," she said as she pointed her finger in her aunt's red face.
"Alright, I admit that I do have some very deep feelings for Mr. Curry. And that's only one reason why I so desperately want him out of that place."
All smiles disappeared as two women in love with two men who were thousands of miles away locked behind prison walls felt the pain of separation and the anguish of helplessness.
"You don't know how many times I have relived that day at Rock Springs in my mind," Livvy said as she stared into space, reliving it again. "I don't know why we didn't just go on to Rawlins and find a minister or a justice of the peace. Who would have dreamed that there wouldn't be either in Rock Springs? I hope you can forgive me for insisting that the two of you wait. If I hadn't insisted, you'd be married now and the boys wouldn't have been in Rock Springs on that day and everything would be different."
"I've forgiven you several times already. It's been nine months, Livvy. Stop feeling so guilty. We could have refused to wait. Anyway "what if's" about the past don't change the present. All we can do is try and change the future."
"Then we had better be coming up with a plan quickly. Because children have a way of doing this strange thing called growing up. And I'd hate for this wee one's daddy to miss out on all of it."
A sadness veiled both women's faces as they thought of the their beloved ex-outlaws. They had not really been living since that cold winter day when they had learned that Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry had been captured leaving a telegrapher's office in Rock Springs, Wyoming. Evie had received the telegraph that Heyes had been sending upon arriving at Heavenly Hills. The message had said simply, "Leaving for Porterville. Will send word when we depart for Nashville. See you in a few days. All my love. Joshua." She carried the small rectangular piece of paper with her always. When she was alone, she would take it out and place it to her lips. She had never received the second message with word of their departure because they were already behind bars when she had read the first one. The very next day the newspapers were ablaze with headlines about the capture of the west's most wanted men. Evie and Livvy had headed to Cheyenne immediately, but she arrived only in time to see him being herded into a stagecoach bound for Laramie and the Wyoming Territorial Prison. That brief glimpse of him had been her last. She had tried in vain to get a visitation privilege. But she was informed that prisoners only received visitors twice a year and then it was only from immediate family. Being betrothed did not qualify as immediate. She had even pleaded with Lom Trevors to try and do something to get them released or to get her visitation rights, but he had told her there was nothing he could do. They had returned to Nashville where they ceased to really live, but merely existed.
The month following their failed attempt to see the boys, had been the most miserable of their lives. They were helpless and hopeless. Evie had decided that it was her destiny to be alone and in sorrow. Livvy buried her self in work while Evie spent most of her time at the piano. Then the discovery of a new life forming in the womb, which should have been a joyous occasion, seemed to bring an even darker cloud upon them. A child born out of wedlock was sordid enough. But the bastard child of an imprisoned outlaw was down right scandalous. Livvy was terrified that the public would learn of the baby's paternity and the backlash to the family businesses would be devastating. Livvy had hastily gotten the final arrangements made to enroll Evie in the Boston Conservatory of Music. She had papers drawn up by her very discreet lawyer. Evangeline Webb, with a few strokes of a pen had become Mrs. Joshua Smith, widow. Her "husband" had been murdered by the Harlan Mathis gang along with her family. How sad that he had left her with child. That was their story and they were sticking to it. No one except Evie, Livvy, Martha and the trusted family chauffeur, James knew the truth. The whole truth. The truth that she had never been married and she had never been with child. The truth that the child everyone was going to belief was hers was really the unexpected result of passion between Livvy and Jed Curry. They left for Boston in March before Livvy's pregnancy was detectable to all the people she knew in Nashville. And when they returned everyone would assume that Evie had given birth to the blonde haired, blue eyed angel named Gabriella. And they would not do or say anything to let others think differently. An illegitimate child of the infamous Kid Curry was not exactly a badge of honor for a woman of good standing in high society. And so they stayed in Boston while Evie studied music, waiting for the birth of Livvy and Jed's child.
When she played the piano, it was the only time Evie felt halfway human. The rest of the time she felt like a walking corpse. She slept, but she never rested. She ate, but she never tasted. She read, but didn't comprehend. It was only when she played that a tiny sparkle of the flame that had once burned inside of her could be detected. When she played, especially the songs that Hannibal had loved to hear, she would lose herself in the music. She was transported to another time and another place. A place where life made sense. A time when she knew what happiness was. She wanted it back. She wanted all of it back. And it all started with him being freed. And she was willing to do whatever it took to gain that freedom.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Laramie, Wyoming, October 22,1881
He sat on the cold stone floor with his back against the cold stone wall. It wouldn't be long now. He had the timing down to a science. He could almost count down to the moment when the sun would begin to come through the small window that was cut into the hard limestone wall. It was a rectangular window measuring two feet long by one foot wide. It was located high on the wall, not really allowing for a view of the world outside. But at least you could see the sky. The patch of sunlight would start as a narrow strip on the floor. But as the minutes passed and the earth revolved further around the sun, the patch would grow larger. And for the span of about twenty minutes, he could sit on the floor in that patch of sunlight and feel it's warmth and feel almost human again.
He scooted on his rump to the spot on the floor where the patch of sunlight was beginning to form. He sat facing the window, his arms propped up on his bent knees, letting the warmth fill his bones. Bones that ached from the hours of hard labor that began at day break and didn't end until late afternoon. Being in the sun outside was different. That was the sun of weariness and strength sapping intensity. This was different. This was his sunshine. A subtle, gentle sunshine that renewed his strength and reminded him that there was one thing that no one could ever take away from him....hope.
He went through this same ritual everyday. It was always around this same time, the late afternoon or early evening. And he knew when the patch of sunlight was gone, the daylight would soon go with it. And that meant the darkness would fall. And the cold would settle in. And the rats would come. But worst of all the nightmares would invade what little sleep he managed to get. And always it was the same kind of nightmare. Evie was falling to a deep, dark hole. She was hanging on to the edge begging for help. He would try to go to her but he was behind bars and couldn't reach her. Then another man would appear and help her. And she would disappear with him. He would always awake, his skin clammy with perspiration and his head throbbing, his heart pounding. But he couldn't call out her name.
It would be very easy for a man to go insane in this six feet by eight feet cell with only a sliver of the sky for a connection to the outside world. But he would definitely go insane when he spent each minute of every day in complete and total silence. Prisoners were not permitted to speak. Not to the guards, not to the warden and certainly not to each other. They couldn't even speak to themselves. Silence was commanded and commands were enforced. Everyday there was some new, unfortunate soul who couldn't take the silence any longer and dared to break the rules and for the sake of his own humanity and sanity would speak or cry out. Sometimes he would hear them in the night say simply, "Dear, God, help me." The punishment for even uttering that simple prayer was something he couldn't bear to think about.
He had seen prisoners who had broken the rule of silence shackled to the outside wall that surrounded the prison. They would be left there in the bitter cold of winter with only their thin striped pants on. If they could remain silent for what the warden and his minions considered a long enough time to become compliant, he would be allowed to come back inside his cell. If he continued to speak, even to beg for mercy or to be allowed to put on a shirt, he would be doused with cold water and left a little longer. And that punishment was for first time offenders. His mind couldn't grasp the unholy contraptions that were invented to silence those who were repeat offenders. If necessary, the tongue would be cut out. A man could not meditate on God's word and sincerely repent of the wrongs he had done if he was not silent. But Heyes knew better. He had witnessed what God was really capable of. And the God he knew was not an angry titan waiting to strike men down with a lightning bolt from the heavens. He was a God of love and forgiveness and most of all hope. God had sent him his precious Evie to show him that truth. But now he was here where a man's faith was tested beyond what he thought he could ever endure. Where the law and not God reigned supreme. But no amount of law or legislation could keep him from screaming aloud inside his head. And always, everyday he screamed the same things. "I won't stay here for long!" "I'm going to survive this!" "Evie I love you!" "Please wait for me!"
Those were the things he said over and over to himself. Here in the Wyoming Territorial Prison, where you spent all of your time with only your own voice in your head to listen to, all you had to do was plan. He was working on a plan to bust them out of here. Kid's cell was on the other side of the compound. The warden had taken extra precautions to make sure that he and Kid were as far apart as they could be. They had been here for almost a year and he had only seen Kid four times. But all those times he had tried to let him know without words that he was working on a plan to get them out of here. It was going to be difficult, but it wasn't impossible. Especially not for a man with enough motivation. And he had more than his share of motivation.
His life was just starting to become what he had always dreamed it would be, when he and Kid had been arrested. There had been no dramatic hoopla. No spectacle like the day they had been spotted in Cold Springs. He and Kid had went into a telegraph office in Rock Springs so Heyes could send a message to Evie, who had gone back to Nashville with her aunt Olivia. He had just paid the telegrapher and stepped out onto the street when a familiar face greeted them. It was an old "friend" they had played poker with not more than fifteen minutes ago. They had trusted him, had felt no reason to worry, but he had turned them in to the sheriff, apparently as soon as they had walked out of the saloon. They had been extradited to Wyoming the very next day. Their trial had been the next week and had lasted only three days. They were of course found guilty and sentenced to twenty years.
Evie must have learned of their capture through the newspaper, because she and Olivia had arrived in Wyoming just in time to see them being taken from the courthouse and loaded into a stage coach bound for Laramie and the Wyoming Territorial Prison. They hadn't even let him speak to her. She had run to him trying to see him one last time, but he had been shoved into the coach and it had driven away before he could even get a good look at her. But he had seen her. And he could have sworn he heard her voice, over the sound of the horses' hooves as the coach sped away, yelling to him, "I'll get you out of there. No matter what it takes."
But he knew that wasn't going to happen. But he also knew Evangeline Ruth Webb well enough to know that she had probably exhausted every attempt to try and get him and Kid released. But they had been in here for over a year now. His fate was sealed. His destiny decided. This is where he would live the rest of his days. If he didn't do something about it himself. He was stuck in here and the only way he was going to get out, was to bust out. And there was no way he was leaving Kid behind.
Would she wait for him, he wondered. Would she try to move on with her life? He knew they shared a love and a bond that would never be broken. Neither time nor distance could sever the invisible string that tied their souls together. But he also knew something about life....it went on. When loved ones died, life went on. When children grew up and left the nest, life went on. And when the man you loved was stuck in prison and you were left on the outside alone.....life went on. Fear for his and the Kid's sanity wasn't the only reason had to get out of this place. Pulling off an escape meant a very elaborate plan and expert execution of that plan. And if he couldn't pull it off, what's the worst that could happen? He'd be shot trying to escape? Maybe that wouldn't be so bad either, he thought as his little patch of sunshine began to dwindle.
~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Six months later, City of Cheyenne, Wyoming Territory
"You were brilliant. The governor is bound to want to meet you after that performance. And you look absolutely ravishing. Any man with a pulse would want to meet you just to get a better look." Livvy spoke through her teeth as she stood next to her niece, smiling at the many people who had turned out to hear her niece play the piano.
Evie's passionate and entertaining performances had been captivating audiences all across the west for the last three months. She had performed in San Francisco just three days ago and now she had just performed her last performance here in Wyoming. The concert had taken place at the Dyer Hotel in downtown Cheyenne. Her reputation and her talent had preceded her and she was very well received, even if she was a woman. She was Professor Schindler's top student and people came for miles to hear her play. But the only guest she and her aunt were interested in was Governor Clayton Ramsey, Jr.
Their plan was simple. Meet the man. If the timing and situation were right, make him an offer of money in exchange for the release of two prisoners. Good old fashioned bribery, just as Livvy had said.
"He's coming this way," Livvy said behind her smiling teeth. "Smile and be charming."
Evie ignored her aunt as she watched the tall, slim distinguished man approach. With a full head of wavy dark hair, graying at the temples, dark eyes, a dashing salt and pepper gottee and an athletic build, Evie could see why many ladies had been in attendance tonight. The widowed governor was quite a catch. Livvy and Evie had tried to learn as much as they could about the fifty year old lawyer who had been elected as governor of Wyoming three years ago. But they had not learned as much as they had hoped. He was planning on running for a second term in the next election. He was considered both a ladies man and a man's man. He was charming and handsome, but also strong and firm.
"Good evening, Mrs. Smith. I'm so pleased to finally meet you. And I must say the rumors of your talent and your beauty hardly do you justice." He kissed the back of her offered hand.
"Thank you Governor Ramsey. May I present my aunt, Olivia Vanderbilt."
"And you, madam, are equally as beautiful," he said as he bowed before the petite blonde. "And your reputation as a savvy business woman precedes you."
"Why, thank you, Governor. And I must say that we are pleasantly surprised that such a powerful man as yourself is also such a handsome man." Livvy said.
He smiled charmingly at the compliment. "Have you ladies had supper yet? I would be delighted if the two of you would agree to join me for supper this evening at my mansion."
"Mansion?" the ladies asked in unison.
"Yes, the governor's mansion. Every governor lives there for his term in office. And since there is no capitol building yet, all of my offices are there as well. I conduct all of my business for the territory from my home."
"Isn't that, lovely?" Livvy said. She was worried at first when he said mansion that he had been referring to his own private estate and that their plan to bribe him would be out of the question. "We would be delighted to join you, wouldn't we, Evangeline."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"My goodness, Governor, these portraits of your late wife are exquisite. You must have paid a small fortune to have them commissioned," Livvy remarked as she sipped her after supper coffee. She and Evangeline had marveled at the three large paintings hanging in the parlor of the governor's private wing of the mansion.
"Yes, I did. But it was well worth it. They've turned out to be a great investment as the artist has passed away. I expect their value to triple over the next ten years."
Evie looked at him perplexed. "Not to mention the fact that they are a beautiful reminder of your wife."
"Oh, yes, there is that too," he responded coldly with a dismissive wave. "I had them taken off the walls of my family estate in Casper and brought here when I was elected to office. My son insisted on having these likenesses of his mother here. "
"Don't you have a daughter as well?" Evie asked.
"Yes, I do. She remains at my home in Riverton . She is not well. She has to be cared for around the clock. I have my own private physician who lives there and takes care of her. She hasn't been the same since her mother passed."
Evie and Livvy exchanged concerned looks. "So you have a family estate in Casper and a home in Riverton? My, you must have built quite a good business to afford two homes," Livvy remarked as she tried not to show her disappointment.
"I've been very fortunate. My law firm does do quite well. But my wife was heiress to a large fortune when her father died. And when she met her very unfortunate and untimely demise, her fortune came to me."
"And your children, of course," Evie added, not caring for the governor's lack of emotion concerning his wife or his children. Evie and Livvy exchanged a worried glances.
Dammit. There went their plan to bribe him. Money wasn't a good bait for a rich man. But Livvy had lived long enough and had dealt with enough men to know that they all had their price. She just had to find out what this man's was. She just hoped it was something she could afford. Because she also knew that sometimes the price didn't involve money.
"Excuse me," Martha said from the back of the room. "I'm sorry to interrupt but, the wee one is need of supper as well."
Evie and Livvy communicated silently and both arose from their seat on the luxurious sofa.
"Won't you please excuse us, Governor Ramsey. A mother's job never ends," Livvy said as she followed Evie towards Martha and the fidgeting baby. "Is there a private room where my niece might nurse her baby?"
"Certainly. And please, call me Clayton. Two doors down on your left."
"What are we going to do now?" Livvy hissed at Evie's back as they walked down the hallway.
"We'll have to go with plan B. Hannibal says you should always have a plan B."
"Do you have a plan B?"
"No. Not exactly. We'll just have to play it by ear like you said. Which door did he say? Left or right?"
"Right I think. Didn't he say right, Martha?"
"Pick one quickly. The wee one isn't very patient you know."
They went into the second door to the right and stepped into a large bedroom. It was lavishly decorated and smelled strongly of men's hair tonics and colognes.
"This must be the governor's bedroom," Livvy mused. "We have to come up with something while we are all in here alone together. We need to find out what we can use to bribe him with. And then we have to find a way to bring up the subject of releasing the boys from prison."
"Sometimes Livvy the best approach is the simplest one. Think of it as a business deal. You're used to that. Just tell him what we want and ask him how much or what it will cost us. I think that's the only plan B we've got at this point."
The ladies relaxed for a moment as Livvy nursed "Evie's" baby. They were lost in thought about what to do, when the door of the bedroom opened and a young man, obviously the governor's son, practically fell into the room, oblivious to the three other people in the room. And he wasn't alone. The two lovers were so involved in their passionate exploration of each other's mouths to notice the three women sitting in the room, until Martha screeched in shocked outrage at the display.
Clayton Ramsey, III released his hold on his far too young lover and stood shocked, not knowing what to say to the three strangers in his bedroom. His father, having heard the scream, came running into the room. One look around told him what had transpired and that these ladies had seen the kind of person his son was. His face flamed with rage and embarrassment. Everyone in the room was silent, none of them knowing what to say. The only noise in the room was the greedy sound of a baby nursing at its mother's breast. The governor looked at the baby and then into the eyes of its mother and knew that somehow, he must strike a bargain. Or his hopes of winning and election were ruined. As would be his life. He smiled wickedly at the woman who was supposed to be the baby's aunt and then at the young woman who was supposed to be her mother. "Ladies it appears we all have a few skeletons in our closets. Is anyone opposed to discussing the price tags attached to those skeletons."
~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"These conditions are preposterous. I won't sign it."
"Preposterous or not, those are the conditions. If you choose not to sign the agreement then your friend will remain exactly where he is and I will have to come up with another clever way out of my present predicament. Of course, now that I know your little secret and you know mine, neither of us is obligated to keep those secrets, should you choose not to enter into this arrangement."
She heard the subtle threat behind his words, even though they were delivered with a charming smile.
"If you reveal my secret, sir, my life will change little. I will merely have to endure the whispers and gossip of the local towns folk. But if I reveal yours you will be ruined."
Crinkles around his eyes appeared in his handsome face as he laughed at her words. "My dear, if your secret became public, your family's newspapers would cease to sell and people would line up in droves to withdraw their money from your banks. Believe me, you will endure much more than a few whispered tales at the church picnic. But think of the results if you do decide to accept the terms of my agreement. We will all have what we desire."
"Not exactly what we all desire. We would still be settling for the next best thing."
"True. But settling for the next best thing is far better than accepting what we both are currently forced to accept, wouldn't you agree."
He could see the indecision in her lovely young face. He must change her mind and he must do it today or else she and her aunt would leave Wyoming and that was something he couldn't allow to happen. He was going to have to use drastic measures. "Have you ever been inside a prison, Mrs. Smith?"
She inwardly cringed as he placed emphasis of her alias, letting her know that he knew it wasn't her real name. Why had she agreed to meet with him privately. She wished now she had insisted on bringing her aunt. "No, governor, I have not."
"Then allow me to share with you what an inmate's typical day is like. Up before dawn, a meager breakfast of cold gruel, then out to the fields for a day of hard labor. That's rain or shine, cold or hot. Then it's back to your six foot by eight foot cell furnished with a rustic cot and a straight back chair, where you will fight the rats and insects for your supper. There you will try to sleep in a cell that is too hot in the summer and too cold in the winter. That's life for six days of the week except for Sunday of course when prisoners attend church services for eight hours of the day. And if you are a high profile inmate such as your friend, then there is a guard outside your cell door, twenty four hours a day. That means no privacy, no chance for escape. And all of this is done in complete silence as prisoners are not allowed to speak. Not even to themselves. And if one does speak without permission, well, I won't go into details about the punishments for such an act. How long do you think it would take a man to go mad in those conditions, Mrs. Smith?"
She felt a wave of nausea begin in the pit of her stomach. Consequences be damned. She would sign. What choice did she have? She had no choice. She had to do this. There would never be another opportunity to gain their freedom.
"There are a few of your conditions that I have issue with. Must I live in the mansion. Isn't there a gate house or servants quarters I could live in."
"That wouldn't be very convincing now would it. If I want this to work, the public must be completely convinced that this is the real thing. If they are even suspicious that it is a fraud, then I will be ruined for sure. No. I will not budge on that condition. Nor will I budge on the final condition. There can never be any contact. No letters, no telegraphs, no secret meetings at midnight. Nothing. Do you understand?"
"Yes, I understand. I will sign the agreement, but first I have a few conditions of my own."
"Yes?"
"First, I want my family to live with me if I so choose. And if they choose not to live with me then I want them to visit whenever I want. I want my own private suite of rooms. This mansion is enormous and there's bound to be a private wing I can have to myself. And I want my own personal staff. Staff of my choosing. I have no problem with keeping up appearances in public, but in the privacy of my own part of the house, I expect to be left alone."
"That should not be a problem."
"And secondly, I wish to be allowed to go there and tell him the news in person. Considering the sacrifice I'm making, you owe me that much."
He scrutinized her face through squinted dark eyes for a moment, as if trying to see inside of her mind and discern her intentions. "Very well. But you will be escorted by my own people who will make sure that you breathe not a word of our arrangement. For if you do, I will not be obligated to keep my end of he deal. And should you break any of the terms, the contract will be null and void. And you understand what will happen if the contract becomes null and void?"
She merely nodded her understanding.
He dipped the end of the shiny silver pen into the ink well and extended it in her direction. She looked at the paper in front of her and then at the pen. She couldn't do this. But for the sakes of every person she loved, she had to do this. God, give me strength. With shaking fingers she gripped the pen. She positioned the pen above the line where she was to sign her name. Her hand shook visibly and her breath caught in her throat as she scribbled, Mrs. Joshua Smith across the line at the bottom of the page.
"Please, excuse me." Her hand came up to cover her mouth. " I'm going to be sick," she blurted out as she ran for the door.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
He let the heavy hammer drop onto the stubborn rock. How many whacks was it going to take, he thought. With one more blow the rock split in half. He didn't mind the hard work. It kept his body fit and allowed him to at least be outdoors, even though it was a little chilly. It must be April. He tried to keep track of the days and months by scratching hash marks onto the stone walls of his cell. And he could tell by the fresh blades of grass and the buds on nearby trees that it was spring. But even if it had been below zero or one hundred and twelve degrees, he would have been glad to be outside today. Because today, Kid was here in the same field. Rarely did he and Kid get placed in the same field for work. If he was busting rocks, then Kid was usually digging them up in another field and vice versa. But today was one of those rare days when they had been placed in the same field. Five times. This was only the fifth time he had seen his partner in over a year. It was difficult to look at him being chained ankle to ankle in a single line of men, standing shoulder to shoulder, that stretched out for half a mile. But he tried to time his swings so that he and Kid both were in an upright position at the same time. He stole a glance at him whenever the guards weren't looking. He and Kid had both grown thin, but both remained muscular, due to the strenuous work. But gone were the golden curls he once sported. Kid, like himself, was shorn on a weekly basis, face, head and body. All prisoners were relieved of all hair on their bodies on a monthly basis. This eliminated the threat of lice which reduced disease among the inmates. But he and the Kid weren't your ordinary prisoners. High profile prisoners who presented a major risk for escape were shorn on a weekly basis. That way if they escaped into the nearby towns they could be easily spotted. It also served as a badge of honor, so to speak, among the criminal element. All the men knew that the prisoners who got shaved weekly were the ones you didn't want to be shackled to.
He cast a sideways glance at his life long friend and silently chuckled to himself. He wondered if he looked as silly with his shaved head. And the poor little fellow shackled to Kid by his ankles looked like he was petrified to be next to one of the weeklies. "You couldn't be safer than a kitten in a little girls arms," he silently told the frightened man, taking a brief moment to enjoy the amusement of the situation. But his amusement was short lived as he heard the approach of a wagon. It was too early for the wagons to come and bring them back to the compound. That only meant one thing. They had come to collect some unfortunate soul who had been snitched on or caught talking or stealing food. He felt sorry for the poor SOB already.
"Prisoners, fall in!"
At the sound of the command all hammers stopped swinging and all prisoners stepped forward to form a single line with an arms length between each man.
"Prisoner number 022440, step out of line!" the guard yelled.
He knew that number. It was his number. Kid would know it was his number too. They had both memorized each others numbers the day they had arrived and had been issued them. They had never been allowed to speak to confirm that, but Heyes just knew. He knew Kid was going to be worried. What fresh hell was this, he thought. Whatever they thought he had done, he would have to face the consequences of it regardless of his guilt or innocence. He straightened his back, squared his shoulders and stepped out of the line of men who stood shackled together. An armed guard kept his gun pointed at him while another unlocked the shackles around his ankles. The guard motioned for him to get into the wagon. He did so silently and without protest. Once in the wagon his right ankle was again shackled to a three foot chain with a lead ball attached to the end. As he sat on the back of the wagon, his eyes locked with Kid's. He didn't like the look he saw there. It was a look he'd seen so many times before when anyone dared to threaten Hannibal Heyes. It was good to know that the time here had not, so far, completely killed Kid's spirit and his protective nature. Heyes tried to let his friend know that it would be alright and not to worry. So he offered a weak smile and a wink of his brown eye as the wagon jolted forward carrying him towards whatever fate had in store for him.
"Back to work the rest of you!" he heard the foreman yell as the wagon began its half mile journey back to the compound. He never took his eyes of the back of prisoner number 022441 as he turned to begin swinging the hammer once more. And he didn't miss the blue eyes that stole a glance over his shoulder to give him one last parting look.
When they arrived back at the compound, he was surprised when he wasn't immediately taken to his cell or to the "box," the metal room where prisoners were sometimes placed for punishment on warm sunny days. Instead he was taken to the warden's office. He was shoved inside the door and the door then closed behind him, leaving the guards outside the door. He looked around the room, delighting in the sights of things as common as a clock and a calendar. He had been right, it was April. And it was 3:00 in the afternoon. He was so absorbed in soaking up the sight of things he had not seen in so long he almost forgot that the warden was even there, until he spoke.
"Come in, Mr. Heyes. You have a visitor." It was only then that he saw the man standing to the left of the warden's large wooden desk. He was dressed in a suit and tie and stood with authority. Heyes didn't like the looks of him. And he certainly didn't know why a perfect stranger would be coming to visit him. That's when she stood and turned to face him.
He had not seen her behind the tall back of the wing back chair she sat in. She arose and turned to face him. His mouth fell open and his eyes nearly bugged out of his head. It was her. She was here. His Evie was standing in front of him. She was the most magnificent sight he had ever seen. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Her skin glowed with the vigor of youth and health. Her figure if possible had grown even more voluptuous and desirable. She was dressed like the fine lady that she was in rich silk and lace. Her glorious hair was arranged in an abundance of curls and ringlets atop her lovely head. She stood out like a perfect rose among a field of dead thorns here in this place.
She had been sitting in the chair for half an hour, waiting. Butterflies had formed in her stomach when she had heard the sound of them coming up the hall. Her heart nearly stopped when she heard the door open and she knew he was standing right behind her. It had been so long since she had laid eyes upon him, the man she loved so dearly. She rose from the chair anxious to see that face. The face she adored with it's shining brown eyes and dimpled smile, and the golden brown hair that fell across his forehead so endearingly. But when she turned around her eyes were met with the sight of a stranger. The golden brown locks were gone. His body was thin and waspish. The black and white striped shirt and pants he wore hung from his wiry frame like rags from a pole. And he was carrying a heavy lead ball that was attached to a chain that was shackled to his ankle. She could only stand and stare at him as he slowly bent and placed the heavy ball on the ground at this feet.
When he straightened and captured her gaze once more, he could not miss the startled look on her face. He knew he must look like the walking dead to her. But he didn't care. She was here. His Evie was here. Before he realized what he was doing his mouth opened and words came quietly from out. They both spoke in unison, "Is it really you?" Her voice laced with sorrow and disbelief. His with amazement and hope.
His voice was hoarse and raspy from having been silent for so long. His own voice sounded strange in his ears and he reflexively started to raise his hands to shield his head, expecting a punishing blow for speaking aloud. But then he remembered that the guards were outside the door.
Evie saw the reflex and inwardly cursed every lawman and person associated with the penal system of this territory. It also didn't escape her attention that his voice was weak and rough from being too long unheard. She wanted to rush to him and hold him and kiss away his fears. But she couldn't. The governor's watch dog who had escorted her here was not about to let her get that close. He had his orders. She managed in spite of her horror at the way he looked to smile at him. She hoped he saw in her eyes how much she loved him.
"You may speak to the lady, Mr. Heyes. There will be no repercussions," the warden told him knowing he had questions that needed answering.
Heyes cleared his throat before he spoke. There were so many questions he wanted to ask. He spoke in a low, slow voice, "What are you doing here?"
"I've come with good news. News I wanted to give you personally. You have been pardoned. The governor signed the papers just this morning. He very graciously allowed me to come and give you the good news in person."
His eyes darted among the other three faces in the room. He didn't know what to think. Was this for real? He didn't trust anyone except Kid Curry and the woman in front of him. He had to believe in that trust now. "Pardoned?" he asked with reservation.
"Yes. He sincerely regretted that he didn't grant you the amnesty before you were arrested and he feels you have been in here long enough to pay your debt to society. You are free."
"That's right, Mr. Heyes," the warden said. "I have all of the necessary paper work here and this gentleman has come as the governor's personal representative. It is all legitimate, I assure you. You will be released immediately."
Bubbles of joyful laughter grew inside of his belly. They started to rise up in his throat. He was going to leave this place today. He was going to walk out of here a free man courtesy of the governor himself. He wouldn't have to spend hours trying to figure out a way to get them out of here.....His face was suddenly crestfallen and the bubbles of laughter burst before they could escape leaving behind the laughter to fall unheard to the bottom of his chest.
Evie saw the momentary elation followed by the devastated downfall of his face. "Jed is leaving today, too," she added quickly, knowing that his concern for his partner was on his mind.
And that's when she saw it. The sparkle of light in the chocolate brown eyes. The grin that began slowly and grew into a broad full on smile. And the dimples that seemed even larger in the hollows of his thin face.
"Guards!" the warden summoned the men from outside the door. "Remove the shackles from Mr. Heyes' ankles please."
He couldn't take his eyes off of her as the men removed the restraint from his ankle. He could only imagine how he must look to her. But he didn't care, because he knew that she loved him no matter what. She must have worked so hard to get him released. And not just released, pardoned. Or should he say it must have cost Livvy a bundle. At last his life would be what he had always hoped. As soon as these shackles were gone he would go to her and hold her. His arms ached suddenly to feel her there. But before the shackles were removed, the suited silent man came to Evie and grasped her upper arm. Heyes brows came together in question.
"Please remain in my office, Mr. Heyes, while Mrs. Smith is escorted out of the compound."
Mrs. Smith? Why was she using his alias? The suited man walked Evie to the door and would have ushered her right past him, had she not forcefully stopped. There were pools of tears in her eyes as she laid a gentle hand against his cheek. She let her hand linger on the smooth, clean face, tanned from hours of hard labor in the fields. There was something in her eyes that bothered him. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. He brought his hand up to cover hers as it rested against his cheek. The suited man then urged her out of the doorway. His hand caught hers and held it tight until they were grasping by mere fingertips as she was being practically dragged from the room. And without a word she was swept away and out of his sight.
Evie was marched to the private coach that awaited outside the tall iron gates of the Wyoming Territorial Prison. The governor's henchman fairly lifted her through the doorway of the coach before closing the latch and moving to sit on the top with the driver. Once she was alone inside the coach she lifted the red velvet curtain from the window and watched as the high stone walls of the prison faded in the distance. It was only then that she let the tears fall. She slid from her seat and laid her head on the velvet cushioned seat and cried. What have I done? she asked herself silently. Her only solace....the knowledge that her beloved would soon be far away from this horrid place that she could only describe as hell on earth.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
He waited outside the iron gates for what seemed like an eternity. He had been escorted out by the guards not long after Evie had left. He had assumed she would be waiting for him outside the gates. He had almost floated out thinking about seeing her and holding her at last. But when he was shoved outside the gates like a sack of bad feed all he found was the same dirt road that had brought him here over a year ago. Why hadn't she waited? And where had she gone? And who was the man escorting her? There were so many questions he wanted answered. And he couldn't find the answers until he found Evie. And he couldn't do that until Kid was released. As if hearing his thoughts, the heavy iron gates squeaked and opened. A confused but nonetheless happy, Kid Curry stepped through the gates, dressed in the same set of clothes as Heyes. Every prisoner who was released was issued a standard set of clothes and shoes. All the belongings they had when they had been brought to prison had long since disappeared to who knew where. Heyes didn't figure he would ever see his brown three piece suit and derby hat again. But that didn't really matter. He was free. Free to wear anything he wanted, or nothing at all. And nothing at all would have been preferable to the itchy clothes he and Kid wore now. They each wore a pair of brown pants and a plain white shirt made of homespun. Their feet were covered with second hand well worn boots that didn't fit well. As the sound of clinking metal came from the other side of the closed gates indicating they were now locked on the outside of the prison walls, Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry stood and stared at each other. They just stood there looking each other up and down.
"Well, say something," Heyes finally said to his friend.
Kid cleared his throat, not fully trusting his unused vocal cords to work. "Boy, I hope I don't look as stupid as you do with that bald head and those ugly clothes."
Laughter erupted from both men as they grabbed each other in a bear hug.
"How did this happen, Heyes? How did we just get released like that?"
"We've been pardoned, Kid."
Kid stared at his partner in disbelief. "Did you say pardoned?"
"That's right. Evie was here. She was the one who came and told me the good news." Heyes turned and scanned the area. "I thought she would be waiting here for me, but some man was with her and ushered her out. I guess she's waiting for us down in Laramie."
"Well, let's get walking then. Laramie's only a few miles from here. I sure hope Livvy's with her. And I hope she's buying supper, cause I'm starving."
Heyes put his arm around his friend's shoulder. "I sure am glad that your time behind bars hasn't changed your appetite, Kid. I was worried that having to live in all that silence and in those conditions might alter your state of mind. I can't tell you how much I worried about that. And you know I was working on a plan to get us out of there. It wasn't going to be easy but it was possible. It probably would have taken about ten years to pull it off but I think I could have done it. Did you ever think about busting out? I know you probably thought about food all the time, cause I thought about it a lot myself and I don't love food the way you do. So....."
"I'm glad to see that your time behind bars didn't change your need to talk my head off. Are you going to stand there all day and blab or are we going to Laramie?"
Heyes just stared at this friend for a long moment. "Don't get proddy, Kid."
Kid put his hand against Heyes' back and gave him a gentle shove and they started their walk towards Laramie. They strolled leisurely along, enjoying the feel of the sun on their faces. Again this sun was different. This was the sun of freedom and open spaces. More than once they found themselves looking at each other and bursting into laughter. They were free men. Free to go wherever they wanted without fear of being arrested. They had not gotten far when an old man bent over from age, appeared in the dirt road ahead of them. "Smith and Jones?" the old man asked.
The boys exchanged looks. "Who's asking?" Kid asked.
"Names George. George Poteet. I was asked to find two fellas name of Smith and Jones coming from the prison on this road. And I was asked to give them this. He extended his weathered hand which held a white envelope. On the front in an unfamiliar hand was written Mr. Smith and Mr. Jones. "Who gave this to you?" Heyes questioned the old man.
"Pretty lady in town. Said it was urgent I find you two before you made it all the way to town. She paid me a handsome sum for my troubles too."
"Thank you , Mr. Poteet. That was mighty neighborly of you."
The note was short and sweet. "Go east about three miles and find an apple grove. There is a whitewashed fence there. Wait. Someone will meet you there and you will have the answers."
The boys walked east and found the grove of blooming apple trees. They leaned against the white washed fence and waited. They didn't wait long when the sound of someone approaching was heard in the grove of trees behind them. A young boy of about thirteen emerged from the trees, leading two horses. "You Smith and Jones?" he asked timidly.
"That's us."
"Which one of you is Smith?"
"That would be me."
The boy handed Kid the reins and Heyes another letter and backed away from them like they were monsters. This letter had no writing at all on the envelope, but when he removed the letter he recognized Evie's handwriting immediately. At last, he thought, he would learn where she was and where he could join her. He looked up to see that the boy was turning tail to run. "Hey, boy, don't go anywhere. I might want to talk to you." The boy stiffened and stood still in his tracks. Heyes began to read:
"My Beloved,
If you are reading this then you have been released from that horrible place and my messenger has found you. I know that you have many questions and I wish I could answer them all. But I cannot. The only thing I want you to know is that I have always loved you and I will always love you. You are free now and your freedom is my gift to you. My last gift. In order for you to remain free, I must never have contact with you or Jed again. Please do not try to find me. It would only result in your being sent back to prison and I don't think I could live knowing you were back in that place. Remember that time and distance cannot keep two hearts that love each other apart. When I fell in love with you it was for eternity. I breathed you into my soul and there you will always remain. You will be always in my heart and a part of my very being. Please do not be angry with the decision I have made. As you once had to do, I have made the decision that is best for you and your future, regardless of how painful it may be for us both to live with. But living without you and knowing you are free is preferable to living without you knowing you are locked away in a prison of stone as well as a prison of silence. Please give Jed my love and both of you please take care of each other. You will find another envelope with cash inside one of the saddlebags. I know Jed is probably hungry. I also left you a small piece of myself that you can have as a remembrance of the love that we shared and that I will always feel.
No matter where you go or what you do, always remember that I am a part of you and you are a part of me. Nothing...not time, distance or circumstance will ever change that. I love you, now and always. This is the last time you will ever hear from me on this side of heaven. So until we meet again in God's eternity, farewell, my beloved.
With love,
Your Evie
The look on Heyes' face told Kid that something in the letter was not good.
"What's it say?" Kid asked, but got no reply. "Heyes? What's it say?"
Heyes turned silently and handed the letter to his partner then went to the horses the boy had handed to Kid. As Heyes began a feverish search of the saddlebags, Kid read the letter. When he was finished he looked at his partner. He had turned both both sets of bags out onto the grass and was combing through everything.
Heyes rummaged through the contents of both sets of saddlebags. There were clothes and toiletry items and the envelope with one hundred dollars cash. But where was the part of her she was speaking of. He was hoping it was really another letter, telling him to meet her in some secret, private location where they wouldn't be seen, and all this espionage was just a front. But his search was turning up nothing. He was about to give up looking when he saw it. It had gotten trapped between the folds of a blue shirt. He lifted the folds of the material and picked up the lavender cord with care. The cord had been carefully wrapped and knotted in the center around a lock of shiny, soft brown hair. His heart sank a little. So there was no plan to meet him. She really did mean to never see him again. And she was leaving him this to remember her by. I'll be damned, he thought, if she thinks I'm just going to accept this and move on without even questioning it.
"What does this mean, Heyes? Is she serious? I don't understand any of this."
"Hey, kid! Come here!" Heyes yelled for the boy who stood statue stiff among the trees.
The boy approached Heyes cautiously and spoke with a quivering voice, "Yes, sir?"
"Relax. We're not gonna hurt you. Did a lady give you that letter?"
"Yes, sir."
"What did she look like? Was she young and pretty? Brown hair and silvery blue eyes?"
"No sir."
"Was she a pretty blonde lady with bright blue eyes, kinda short?" Kid asked the boy.
"No, sir. She was older. She had red hair and she reminded me of my granny."
The boys swapped the same confused look. "Was she alone or was somebody with her?"
"She was alone."
"Did she say who had given her the letter?"
"No, sir. She just stopped me in the street and asked me if I had anything to be doing today. Then she gave me a silver dollar to come out here to the orchards and wait for two men named Smith and Jones. I was to give the horses to the one named Jones and the letter to the one named Smith. That's all she said."
"She didn't say anything else? You're not supposed to let her know if you found us or not?"
"Oh, yeah! When I get back to town, I'm supposed to meet her and let her know that I delivered the stuff to you then I get another silver dollar."
Heyes smiled. "You meeting her in Laramie?"
"Yes, sir. At the cafe."
With that the boy sprinted off towards Laramie, anxious to collect the rest of his pay.
"Well, Kid, I'm glad your in the mood for some food. Cause we're headed to that cafe."
While Heyes had questioned the boy, Kid had been changing out of the itchy prison clothes and into the clothes that Heyes had dumped out of the saddlebags. "Sounds good to me, Heyes. And look," Kid said with a grin as he held up his floppy brimmed, concho trimmed hat, "she kept our hats. Your hat is hanging on your saddle horn too."
"She must have claimed our belongings after we were shipped out to prison," Heyes mused as he stripped off the crudely made brown pants and white shirt. As he stood there in the open field with apple trees in blossom behind him and the fading afternoon sun in front of him, he felt an avalanche of emotions descend upon him. He was free. The warm sun on his bare chest punctuated the fact that he could run naked through this field right now and scream at the top his lungs if he chose to. He smiled at himself. He let his bare toes squish in the soft blades of grass under his feet. He looked at Kid who was staring at him as he stood there in his long underwear. He couldn't resist. He took off like a shot and ran as hard as he could across the open field. The sun on his face, the wind against his skin, the grass beneath his feet......he was free. He opened his mouth and let out a whoop and a yell. It had been so long since he had even been able to speak, let alone scream or yell, it felt like the release of years of pent up anger and frustration. He ran back to where Kid still stood watching him. He was out of breath, he felt like his lungs were on fire and the soles of his feet throbbed and stung. But he was free. His brown eyes twinkled as they captured the blue ones of his partner and best friend. As they had always been able to do, they communicated without words. In a matter of seconds, Kid's shoes and clothes were discarded and the two former outlaws were in their underwear, running in the grass, screaming and laughing like children. Like free men. Because that's what they were.
But the sweet taste of freedom left a bitter aftertaste in Heyes mouth when he thought about his sweet Evie. What had she done? She would never have given up on them so easily. She would never have sacrificed their love without a very good reason, or unless she was being forced. He had a feeling she had made some sort of deal to gain their freedom. She had sacrificed their relationship and their future to gain that freedom. He looked down at the lock of hair enclosed by the lavender binding cord that he still held in his hand. He was going to get to the bottom of this if it was the last thing he ever did. Even if it meant losing that freedom.
O Thou who at Love’s hour ecstatically
Unto my lips dost evermore present
The body and blood of Love in sacrament;
Whom I have neared and felt thy breath to be
The inmost incense of his sanctuary;
Who without speech hast owned him, and intent
Upon his will, thy life with mine hast blent,
And murmured o’er the cup, Remember me! —
O what from thee the grace, for me the prize,
And what to Love the glory, — when the whole
Of the deep stair thou tread’st to the dim shoal
And weary water of the place of sighs,
And there dost work deliverance, as thine eyes
Draw up my prisoned spirit to thy soul!
Boston, October 22, 1881
"Open the windows, Martha, and let some air in here."
The trusted house servant did as she was told, raising the heavy paned windows of the stuffy room. The fire in the fireplace had been built much hotter than was necessary, even though the autumns in Boston were quite chilly. But the hot fire had been necessary to boil water. The boiling water had been necessary to sterilize everything that might be needed.
"I can't do this," she gasped out between labored breaths. "I can't. I'm going to die. It hurts too much. Is it supposed to hurt this bad?" she asked, squeezing tightly the hand of the woman who was not only one of her only remaining relatives, but who she also now thought of as her best friend.
"How should I know? I've never done this before either. But you're wrong. You can do this. Women have been doing it for thousands of years. Most of them survived." She looked down into the face of the woman she had come to love so dearly and she brushed the damp hair from her forehead. "And so will you." She locked concerned eyes with the equally concerned servant who was laying out clean towels and a sterilized needle and thread.
"Here it comes again," she said, panting. "Oh, sweet Lord. I feel like I'm being ripped in half!"
"Hold my hand. Squeeze it hard."
Martha rushed to stand between the naked, bent knees of the woman she loved like a daughter. "I can see the head. It's time to start pushing."
"Oh, God, I can't do this!"
"Yes, you can. Martha and I are not going to let you give up. Now squeeze my hand and push!"
She bore down with everything she had. She wanted it to be over. She let out a scream as the pain became unbearable. Then the pain passed and she fell back again against the pillows.
"The head is out!" Martha announced with a smile on her face.
"Good, girl. Just a little more and it will be over."
"One more good push is all it's going to take," Martha said with confidence, having been witness to this miracle several times before.
"You hear that? One more good push and you can rest. Now come on. Push!!"
The push came with an earsplitting scream of agony. Then there was silence, a think heavy silence, as a pair of blue eyes and a pair of green ones locked in a fearful gaze.
The new mother collapsed back onto the pillows of the bed, exhausted and spent. She had never been this tired in her life. She lay there fighting the sleep that was pulling her into its welcome embrace. She couldn't sleep yet, not until she heard the cry. When long moments passed and still there was only silence, she raised herself on shaky elbows to see what was going on. The other two women in the room were standing with their backs to her in front of the wash basin. What was going on? Panic started to grow inside of her. Why wasn't he crying? Shouldn't he be crying. She had never known the kind of fear she knew in this moment. She was silently begging God to spare the tiny miracle she had just worked so hard to bring into the world when a high pitched quivering wail split the air. "Thank you," she mumbled as she fell back again against the pillows.
"Here you are, mama," Martha said lovingly as she placed the tiny wrapped bundle in her arms. She pushed the covering back to reveal the head full of hair on the tiny head. Then the tiny slits of the baby's eyes opened and looked at her. She couldn't control the tears that began to stream down her face. The tears were a mixture of joy and sorrow. The joy came from holding her child that had been joyfully conceived and whom she had carried in her womb for nine months. The sorrow came from looking into a mirror image of the baby's father. The same hair and eyes that were the exact same color as her child's father. The father her child would never know.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"We have to find a way to get them out. Now it's even more important that we do," Evangeline Webb told her aunt Olivia who was busy bundling the newest member of the family tightly into a warm blanket. "And there's only one way I can think of that will work."
"What's that?"
"Good old fashioned bribery. I haven't met a politician yet who would turn down cold hard cash. And cash is something I have plenty of."
"What if he doesn't go along with it. Then you and I will go to jail for soliciting bribes. Martha will have to raise the baby by herself."
"That won't happen. I've been handing out campaign funds to politicians since Papa died. They all have a price. We just have to come up with some clever way to get an appointment with the governor of Wyoming and from there we'll play it by ear."
"Speaking of playing by ear, I think i know of a way to meet the governor." Livvy perked, her attention gained. "Professor Schindler practically begged me to go out west with him and give a few concerts. But I told him I couldn't go this time, with the baby being due to arrive so soon. But he told me if I would like to go when they return in the spring, the invitation would be open. He is such a sweet man and he'd do anything I asked him to do. If I ask, I know he'll arrange a concert in Cheyenne and make sure that the governor is present. We can meet him and casually bring up the subject of men in prison and how would one go about getting a man released. We would be able to tell if he was receptive or not. And if he seems reluctant then we'll think of something else."
"That might work. I can usually size up a man on the first meeting. Especially when it comes to money. If he's bribable, I'll know it."
"And if he isn't?"
"Dynamite is cheaper by the gross."
"Ha ha. Very funny. But seriously," Evie reached for the swaddled bundle of love that her aunt held in her lap, "he deserves to know his child." She placed a tender kiss on the smooth pink cheek.
"Yes, he does. And his child deserves to know him. And neither of them deserves to be in that horrible prison. They're not murderers or rapists. All they ever did was rob a few banks and trains."
Evie's eyebrows raised whimsically. "I seem to recall a time when I said those words to you and you locked me in my room afterwards."
Livvy looked downward with shame and embarrassment. "That was before."
"Before what?"
"Before I knew who they really were."
"And before...."
"Before I was able to see that they really were trying to turn over a new leaf and live law abiding lives."
"And before you fell in love with Jed Curry."
Livvy's mouth fell open for a moment before she snapped it shut again. She took the hours old baby from her niece's arms and stroked the soft tuft of hair atop its tiny head. "My what a head of hair you have, my darling angel."
"Don't change the subject, Livvy. Is it so hard to admit that you, Olivia Vanderbilt, strong, independent entrepreneur are in love? That you need someone besides yourself?"
"I am not. And I do not."
"Oh, come on, Livvy. You've talked about Jed almost as much as I've talked about Hannibal over the past nine months. And do you think I don't see the dreamy far off look you get in your eyes when you're daydreaming about him? When I was falling in love with Hannibal, everyone made sure to point out all the signs for me. And all of those signs are present in you. A wise woman once told me that if he's the last thing on your mind when you go to bed and the first thing on your mind when you wake up, you're in love with him. So don't deny it. He's on your mind constantly just like Hannibal is on mine."
"Who was the wise woman who told you that?"
"Sally, the saloon girl from Alpine."
"Ooooh. Why did you have to bring her up? You know I hate it when you talk about her."
"Why? Jealous? Another sign of being in love."
Livvy huffed and pursed her lips. "I am not jealous of a cheap, beer swigging saloon tramp. It just makes me angry to think of Jed Curry putting his hands on that....that...."
"On any other woman except you." Evie smiled devilishly at her aunt. "In love," she said as she pointed her finger in her aunt's red face.
"Alright, I admit that I do have some very deep feelings for Mr. Curry. And that's only one reason why I so desperately want him out of that place."
All smiles disappeared as two women in love with two men who were thousands of miles away locked behind prison walls felt the pain of separation and the anguish of helplessness.
"You don't know how many times I have relived that day at Rock Springs in my mind," Livvy said as she stared into space, reliving it again. "I don't know why we didn't just go on to Rawlins and find a minister or a justice of the peace. Who would have dreamed that there wouldn't be either in Rock Springs? I hope you can forgive me for insisting that the two of you wait. If I hadn't insisted, you'd be married now and the boys wouldn't have been in Rock Springs on that day and everything would be different."
"I've forgiven you several times already. It's been nine months, Livvy. Stop feeling so guilty. We could have refused to wait. Anyway "what if's" about the past don't change the present. All we can do is try and change the future."
"Then we had better be coming up with a plan quickly. Because children have a way of doing this strange thing called growing up. And I'd hate for this wee one's daddy to miss out on all of it."
A sadness veiled both women's faces as they thought of the their beloved ex-outlaws. They had not really been living since that cold winter day when they had learned that Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry had been captured leaving a telegrapher's office in Rock Springs, Wyoming. Evie had received the telegraph that Heyes had been sending upon arriving at Heavenly Hills. The message had said simply, "Leaving for Porterville. Will send word when we depart for Nashville. See you in a few days. All my love. Joshua." She carried the small rectangular piece of paper with her always. When she was alone, she would take it out and place it to her lips. She had never received the second message with word of their departure because they were already behind bars when she had read the first one. The very next day the newspapers were ablaze with headlines about the capture of the west's most wanted men. Evie and Livvy had headed to Cheyenne immediately, but she arrived only in time to see him being herded into a stagecoach bound for Laramie and the Wyoming Territorial Prison. That brief glimpse of him had been her last. She had tried in vain to get a visitation privilege. But she was informed that prisoners only received visitors twice a year and then it was only from immediate family. Being betrothed did not qualify as immediate. She had even pleaded with Lom Trevors to try and do something to get them released or to get her visitation rights, but he had told her there was nothing he could do. They had returned to Nashville where they ceased to really live, but merely existed.
The month following their failed attempt to see the boys, had been the most miserable of their lives. They were helpless and hopeless. Evie had decided that it was her destiny to be alone and in sorrow. Livvy buried her self in work while Evie spent most of her time at the piano. Then the discovery of a new life forming in the womb, which should have been a joyous occasion, seemed to bring an even darker cloud upon them. A child born out of wedlock was sordid enough. But the bastard child of an imprisoned outlaw was down right scandalous. Livvy was terrified that the public would learn of the baby's paternity and the backlash to the family businesses would be devastating. Livvy had hastily gotten the final arrangements made to enroll Evie in the Boston Conservatory of Music. She had papers drawn up by her very discreet lawyer. Evangeline Webb, with a few strokes of a pen had become Mrs. Joshua Smith, widow. Her "husband" had been murdered by the Harlan Mathis gang along with her family. How sad that he had left her with child. That was their story and they were sticking to it. No one except Evie, Livvy, Martha and the trusted family chauffeur, James knew the truth. The whole truth. The truth that she had never been married and she had never been with child. The truth that the child everyone was going to belief was hers was really the unexpected result of passion between Livvy and Jed Curry. They left for Boston in March before Livvy's pregnancy was detectable to all the people she knew in Nashville. And when they returned everyone would assume that Evie had given birth to the blonde haired, blue eyed angel named Gabriella. And they would not do or say anything to let others think differently. An illegitimate child of the infamous Kid Curry was not exactly a badge of honor for a woman of good standing in high society. And so they stayed in Boston while Evie studied music, waiting for the birth of Livvy and Jed's child.
When she played the piano, it was the only time Evie felt halfway human. The rest of the time she felt like a walking corpse. She slept, but she never rested. She ate, but she never tasted. She read, but didn't comprehend. It was only when she played that a tiny sparkle of the flame that had once burned inside of her could be detected. When she played, especially the songs that Hannibal had loved to hear, she would lose herself in the music. She was transported to another time and another place. A place where life made sense. A time when she knew what happiness was. She wanted it back. She wanted all of it back. And it all started with him being freed. And she was willing to do whatever it took to gain that freedom.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Laramie, Wyoming, October 22,1881
He sat on the cold stone floor with his back against the cold stone wall. It wouldn't be long now. He had the timing down to a science. He could almost count down to the moment when the sun would begin to come through the small window that was cut into the hard limestone wall. It was a rectangular window measuring two feet long by one foot wide. It was located high on the wall, not really allowing for a view of the world outside. But at least you could see the sky. The patch of sunlight would start as a narrow strip on the floor. But as the minutes passed and the earth revolved further around the sun, the patch would grow larger. And for the span of about twenty minutes, he could sit on the floor in that patch of sunlight and feel it's warmth and feel almost human again.
He scooted on his rump to the spot on the floor where the patch of sunlight was beginning to form. He sat facing the window, his arms propped up on his bent knees, letting the warmth fill his bones. Bones that ached from the hours of hard labor that began at day break and didn't end until late afternoon. Being in the sun outside was different. That was the sun of weariness and strength sapping intensity. This was different. This was his sunshine. A subtle, gentle sunshine that renewed his strength and reminded him that there was one thing that no one could ever take away from him....hope.
He went through this same ritual everyday. It was always around this same time, the late afternoon or early evening. And he knew when the patch of sunlight was gone, the daylight would soon go with it. And that meant the darkness would fall. And the cold would settle in. And the rats would come. But worst of all the nightmares would invade what little sleep he managed to get. And always it was the same kind of nightmare. Evie was falling to a deep, dark hole. She was hanging on to the edge begging for help. He would try to go to her but he was behind bars and couldn't reach her. Then another man would appear and help her. And she would disappear with him. He would always awake, his skin clammy with perspiration and his head throbbing, his heart pounding. But he couldn't call out her name.
It would be very easy for a man to go insane in this six feet by eight feet cell with only a sliver of the sky for a connection to the outside world. But he would definitely go insane when he spent each minute of every day in complete and total silence. Prisoners were not permitted to speak. Not to the guards, not to the warden and certainly not to each other. They couldn't even speak to themselves. Silence was commanded and commands were enforced. Everyday there was some new, unfortunate soul who couldn't take the silence any longer and dared to break the rules and for the sake of his own humanity and sanity would speak or cry out. Sometimes he would hear them in the night say simply, "Dear, God, help me." The punishment for even uttering that simple prayer was something he couldn't bear to think about.
He had seen prisoners who had broken the rule of silence shackled to the outside wall that surrounded the prison. They would be left there in the bitter cold of winter with only their thin striped pants on. If they could remain silent for what the warden and his minions considered a long enough time to become compliant, he would be allowed to come back inside his cell. If he continued to speak, even to beg for mercy or to be allowed to put on a shirt, he would be doused with cold water and left a little longer. And that punishment was for first time offenders. His mind couldn't grasp the unholy contraptions that were invented to silence those who were repeat offenders. If necessary, the tongue would be cut out. A man could not meditate on God's word and sincerely repent of the wrongs he had done if he was not silent. But Heyes knew better. He had witnessed what God was really capable of. And the God he knew was not an angry titan waiting to strike men down with a lightning bolt from the heavens. He was a God of love and forgiveness and most of all hope. God had sent him his precious Evie to show him that truth. But now he was here where a man's faith was tested beyond what he thought he could ever endure. Where the law and not God reigned supreme. But no amount of law or legislation could keep him from screaming aloud inside his head. And always, everyday he screamed the same things. "I won't stay here for long!" "I'm going to survive this!" "Evie I love you!" "Please wait for me!"
Those were the things he said over and over to himself. Here in the Wyoming Territorial Prison, where you spent all of your time with only your own voice in your head to listen to, all you had to do was plan. He was working on a plan to bust them out of here. Kid's cell was on the other side of the compound. The warden had taken extra precautions to make sure that he and Kid were as far apart as they could be. They had been here for almost a year and he had only seen Kid four times. But all those times he had tried to let him know without words that he was working on a plan to get them out of here. It was going to be difficult, but it wasn't impossible. Especially not for a man with enough motivation. And he had more than his share of motivation.
His life was just starting to become what he had always dreamed it would be, when he and Kid had been arrested. There had been no dramatic hoopla. No spectacle like the day they had been spotted in Cold Springs. He and Kid had went into a telegraph office in Rock Springs so Heyes could send a message to Evie, who had gone back to Nashville with her aunt Olivia. He had just paid the telegrapher and stepped out onto the street when a familiar face greeted them. It was an old "friend" they had played poker with not more than fifteen minutes ago. They had trusted him, had felt no reason to worry, but he had turned them in to the sheriff, apparently as soon as they had walked out of the saloon. They had been extradited to Wyoming the very next day. Their trial had been the next week and had lasted only three days. They were of course found guilty and sentenced to twenty years.
Evie must have learned of their capture through the newspaper, because she and Olivia had arrived in Wyoming just in time to see them being taken from the courthouse and loaded into a stage coach bound for Laramie and the Wyoming Territorial Prison. They hadn't even let him speak to her. She had run to him trying to see him one last time, but he had been shoved into the coach and it had driven away before he could even get a good look at her. But he had seen her. And he could have sworn he heard her voice, over the sound of the horses' hooves as the coach sped away, yelling to him, "I'll get you out of there. No matter what it takes."
But he knew that wasn't going to happen. But he also knew Evangeline Ruth Webb well enough to know that she had probably exhausted every attempt to try and get him and Kid released. But they had been in here for over a year now. His fate was sealed. His destiny decided. This is where he would live the rest of his days. If he didn't do something about it himself. He was stuck in here and the only way he was going to get out, was to bust out. And there was no way he was leaving Kid behind.
Would she wait for him, he wondered. Would she try to move on with her life? He knew they shared a love and a bond that would never be broken. Neither time nor distance could sever the invisible string that tied their souls together. But he also knew something about life....it went on. When loved ones died, life went on. When children grew up and left the nest, life went on. And when the man you loved was stuck in prison and you were left on the outside alone.....life went on. Fear for his and the Kid's sanity wasn't the only reason had to get out of this place. Pulling off an escape meant a very elaborate plan and expert execution of that plan. And if he couldn't pull it off, what's the worst that could happen? He'd be shot trying to escape? Maybe that wouldn't be so bad either, he thought as his little patch of sunshine began to dwindle.
~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Six months later, City of Cheyenne, Wyoming Territory
"You were brilliant. The governor is bound to want to meet you after that performance. And you look absolutely ravishing. Any man with a pulse would want to meet you just to get a better look." Livvy spoke through her teeth as she stood next to her niece, smiling at the many people who had turned out to hear her niece play the piano.
Evie's passionate and entertaining performances had been captivating audiences all across the west for the last three months. She had performed in San Francisco just three days ago and now she had just performed her last performance here in Wyoming. The concert had taken place at the Dyer Hotel in downtown Cheyenne. Her reputation and her talent had preceded her and she was very well received, even if she was a woman. She was Professor Schindler's top student and people came for miles to hear her play. But the only guest she and her aunt were interested in was Governor Clayton Ramsey, Jr.
Their plan was simple. Meet the man. If the timing and situation were right, make him an offer of money in exchange for the release of two prisoners. Good old fashioned bribery, just as Livvy had said.
"He's coming this way," Livvy said behind her smiling teeth. "Smile and be charming."
Evie ignored her aunt as she watched the tall, slim distinguished man approach. With a full head of wavy dark hair, graying at the temples, dark eyes, a dashing salt and pepper gottee and an athletic build, Evie could see why many ladies had been in attendance tonight. The widowed governor was quite a catch. Livvy and Evie had tried to learn as much as they could about the fifty year old lawyer who had been elected as governor of Wyoming three years ago. But they had not learned as much as they had hoped. He was planning on running for a second term in the next election. He was considered both a ladies man and a man's man. He was charming and handsome, but also strong and firm.
"Good evening, Mrs. Smith. I'm so pleased to finally meet you. And I must say the rumors of your talent and your beauty hardly do you justice." He kissed the back of her offered hand.
"Thank you Governor Ramsey. May I present my aunt, Olivia Vanderbilt."
"And you, madam, are equally as beautiful," he said as he bowed before the petite blonde. "And your reputation as a savvy business woman precedes you."
"Why, thank you, Governor. And I must say that we are pleasantly surprised that such a powerful man as yourself is also such a handsome man." Livvy said.
He smiled charmingly at the compliment. "Have you ladies had supper yet? I would be delighted if the two of you would agree to join me for supper this evening at my mansion."
"Mansion?" the ladies asked in unison.
"Yes, the governor's mansion. Every governor lives there for his term in office. And since there is no capitol building yet, all of my offices are there as well. I conduct all of my business for the territory from my home."
"Isn't that, lovely?" Livvy said. She was worried at first when he said mansion that he had been referring to his own private estate and that their plan to bribe him would be out of the question. "We would be delighted to join you, wouldn't we, Evangeline."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"My goodness, Governor, these portraits of your late wife are exquisite. You must have paid a small fortune to have them commissioned," Livvy remarked as she sipped her after supper coffee. She and Evangeline had marveled at the three large paintings hanging in the parlor of the governor's private wing of the mansion.
"Yes, I did. But it was well worth it. They've turned out to be a great investment as the artist has passed away. I expect their value to triple over the next ten years."
Evie looked at him perplexed. "Not to mention the fact that they are a beautiful reminder of your wife."
"Oh, yes, there is that too," he responded coldly with a dismissive wave. "I had them taken off the walls of my family estate in Casper and brought here when I was elected to office. My son insisted on having these likenesses of his mother here. "
"Don't you have a daughter as well?" Evie asked.
"Yes, I do. She remains at my home in Riverton . She is not well. She has to be cared for around the clock. I have my own private physician who lives there and takes care of her. She hasn't been the same since her mother passed."
Evie and Livvy exchanged concerned looks. "So you have a family estate in Casper and a home in Riverton? My, you must have built quite a good business to afford two homes," Livvy remarked as she tried not to show her disappointment.
"I've been very fortunate. My law firm does do quite well. But my wife was heiress to a large fortune when her father died. And when she met her very unfortunate and untimely demise, her fortune came to me."
"And your children, of course," Evie added, not caring for the governor's lack of emotion concerning his wife or his children. Evie and Livvy exchanged a worried glances.
Dammit. There went their plan to bribe him. Money wasn't a good bait for a rich man. But Livvy had lived long enough and had dealt with enough men to know that they all had their price. She just had to find out what this man's was. She just hoped it was something she could afford. Because she also knew that sometimes the price didn't involve money.
"Excuse me," Martha said from the back of the room. "I'm sorry to interrupt but, the wee one is need of supper as well."
Evie and Livvy communicated silently and both arose from their seat on the luxurious sofa.
"Won't you please excuse us, Governor Ramsey. A mother's job never ends," Livvy said as she followed Evie towards Martha and the fidgeting baby. "Is there a private room where my niece might nurse her baby?"
"Certainly. And please, call me Clayton. Two doors down on your left."
"What are we going to do now?" Livvy hissed at Evie's back as they walked down the hallway.
"He's wealthy. So I doubt our offer will impress him much."
"We'll have to go with plan B. Hannibal says you should always have a plan B."
"Do you have a plan B?"
"No. Not exactly. We'll just have to play it by ear like you said. Which door did he say? Left or right?"
"Right I think. Didn't he say right, Martha?"
"Pick one quickly. The wee one isn't very patient you know."
They went into the second door to the right and stepped into a large bedroom. It was lavishly decorated and smelled strongly of men's hair tonics and colognes.
"This must be the governor's bedroom," Livvy mused. "We have to come up with something while we are all in here alone together. We need to find out what we can use to bribe him with. And then we have to find a way to bring up the subject of releasing the boys from prison."
"Sometimes Livvy the best approach is the simplest one. Think of it as a business deal. You're used to that. Just tell him what we want and ask him how much or what it will cost us. I think that's the only plan B we've got at this point."
The ladies relaxed for a moment as Livvy nursed "Evie's" baby. They were lost in thought about what to do, when the door of the bedroom opened and a young man, obviously the governor's son, practically fell into the room, oblivious to the three other people in the room. And he wasn't alone. The two lovers were so involved in their passionate exploration of each other's mouths to notice the three women sitting in the room, until Martha screeched in shocked outrage at the display.
Clayton Ramsey, III released his hold on his far too young lover and stood shocked, not knowing what to say to the three strangers in his bedroom. His father, having heard the scream, came running into the room. One look around told him what had transpired and that these ladies had seen the kind of person his son was. His face flamed with rage and embarrassment. Everyone in the room was silent, none of them knowing what to say. The only noise in the room was the greedy sound of a baby nursing at its mother's breast. The governor looked at the baby and then into the eyes of its mother and knew that somehow, he must strike a bargain. Or his hopes of winning and election were ruined. As would be his life. He smiled wickedly at the woman who was supposed to be the baby's aunt and then at the young woman who was supposed to be her mother. "Ladies it appears we all have a few skeletons in our closets. Is anyone opposed to discussing the price tags attached to those skeletons."
~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"These conditions are preposterous. I won't sign it."
"Preposterous or not, those are the conditions. If you choose not to sign the agreement then your friend will remain exactly where he is and I will have to come up with another clever way out of my present predicament. Of course, now that I know your little secret and you know mine, neither of us is obligated to keep those secrets, should you choose not to enter into this arrangement."
She heard the subtle threat behind his words, even though they were delivered with a charming smile.
"If you reveal my secret, sir, my life will change little. I will merely have to endure the whispers and gossip of the local towns folk. But if I reveal yours you will be ruined."
Crinkles around his eyes appeared in his handsome face as he laughed at her words. "My dear, if your secret became public, your family's newspapers would cease to sell and people would line up in droves to withdraw their money from your banks. Believe me, you will endure much more than a few whispered tales at the church picnic. But think of the results if you do decide to accept the terms of my agreement. We will all have what we desire."
"Not exactly what we all desire. We would still be settling for the next best thing."
"True. But settling for the next best thing is far better than accepting what we both are currently forced to accept, wouldn't you agree."
He could see the indecision in her lovely young face. He must change her mind and he must do it today or else she and her aunt would leave Wyoming and that was something he couldn't allow to happen. He was going to have to use drastic measures. "Have you ever been inside a prison, Mrs. Smith?"
She inwardly cringed as he placed emphasis of her alias, letting her know that he knew it wasn't her real name. Why had she agreed to meet with him privately. She wished now she had insisted on bringing her aunt. "No, governor, I have not."
"Then allow me to share with you what an inmate's typical day is like. Up before dawn, a meager breakfast of cold gruel, then out to the fields for a day of hard labor. That's rain or shine, cold or hot. Then it's back to your six foot by eight foot cell furnished with a rustic cot and a straight back chair, where you will fight the rats and insects for your supper. There you will try to sleep in a cell that is too hot in the summer and too cold in the winter. That's life for six days of the week except for Sunday of course when prisoners attend church services for eight hours of the day. And if you are a high profile inmate such as your friend, then there is a guard outside your cell door, twenty four hours a day. That means no privacy, no chance for escape. And all of this is done in complete silence as prisoners are not allowed to speak. Not even to themselves. And if one does speak without permission, well, I won't go into details about the punishments for such an act. How long do you think it would take a man to go mad in those conditions, Mrs. Smith?"
She felt a wave of nausea begin in the pit of her stomach. Consequences be damned. She would sign. What choice did she have? She had no choice. She had to do this. There would never be another opportunity to gain their freedom.
"There are a few of your conditions that I have issue with. Must I live in the mansion. Isn't there a gate house or servants quarters I could live in."
"That wouldn't be very convincing now would it. If I want this to work, the public must be completely convinced that this is the real thing. If they are even suspicious that it is a fraud, then I will be ruined for sure. No. I will not budge on that condition. Nor will I budge on the final condition. There can never be any contact. No letters, no telegraphs, no secret meetings at midnight. Nothing. Do you understand?"
"Yes, I understand. I will sign the agreement, but first I have a few conditions of my own."
"Yes?"
"First, I want my family to live with me if I so choose. And if they choose not to live with me then I want them to visit whenever I want. I want my own private suite of rooms. This mansion is enormous and there's bound to be a private wing I can have to myself. And I want my own personal staff. Staff of my choosing. I have no problem with keeping up appearances in public, but in the privacy of my own part of the house, I expect to be left alone."
"That should not be a problem."
"And secondly, I wish to be allowed to go there and tell him the news in person. Considering the sacrifice I'm making, you owe me that much."
He scrutinized her face through squinted dark eyes for a moment, as if trying to see inside of her mind and discern her intentions. "Very well. But you will be escorted by my own people who will make sure that you breathe not a word of our arrangement. For if you do, I will not be obligated to keep my end of he deal. And should you break any of the terms, the contract will be null and void. And you understand what will happen if the contract becomes null and void?"
She merely nodded her understanding.
He dipped the end of the shiny silver pen into the ink well and extended it in her direction. She looked at the paper in front of her and then at the pen. She couldn't do this. But for the sakes of every person she loved, she had to do this. God, give me strength. With shaking fingers she gripped the pen. She positioned the pen above the line where she was to sign her name. Her hand shook visibly and her breath caught in her throat as she scribbled, Mrs. Joshua Smith across the line at the bottom of the page.
"Please, excuse me." Her hand came up to cover her mouth. " I'm going to be sick," she blurted out as she ran for the door.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
He let the heavy hammer drop onto the stubborn rock. How many whacks was it going to take, he thought. With one more blow the rock split in half. He didn't mind the hard work. It kept his body fit and allowed him to at least be outdoors, even though it was a little chilly. It must be April. He tried to keep track of the days and months by scratching hash marks onto the stone walls of his cell. And he could tell by the fresh blades of grass and the buds on nearby trees that it was spring. But even if it had been below zero or one hundred and twelve degrees, he would have been glad to be outside today. Because today, Kid was here in the same field. Rarely did he and Kid get placed in the same field for work. If he was busting rocks, then Kid was usually digging them up in another field and vice versa. But today was one of those rare days when they had been placed in the same field. Five times. This was only the fifth time he had seen his partner in over a year. It was difficult to look at him being chained ankle to ankle in a single line of men, standing shoulder to shoulder, that stretched out for half a mile. But he tried to time his swings so that he and Kid both were in an upright position at the same time. He stole a glance at him whenever the guards weren't looking. He and Kid had both grown thin, but both remained muscular, due to the strenuous work. But gone were the golden curls he once sported. Kid, like himself, was shorn on a weekly basis, face, head and body. All prisoners were relieved of all hair on their bodies on a monthly basis. This eliminated the threat of lice which reduced disease among the inmates. But he and the Kid weren't your ordinary prisoners. High profile prisoners who presented a major risk for escape were shorn on a weekly basis. That way if they escaped into the nearby towns they could be easily spotted. It also served as a badge of honor, so to speak, among the criminal element. All the men knew that the prisoners who got shaved weekly were the ones you didn't want to be shackled to.
He cast a sideways glance at his life long friend and silently chuckled to himself. He wondered if he looked as silly with his shaved head. And the poor little fellow shackled to Kid by his ankles looked like he was petrified to be next to one of the weeklies. "You couldn't be safer than a kitten in a little girls arms," he silently told the frightened man, taking a brief moment to enjoy the amusement of the situation. But his amusement was short lived as he heard the approach of a wagon. It was too early for the wagons to come and bring them back to the compound. That only meant one thing. They had come to collect some unfortunate soul who had been snitched on or caught talking or stealing food. He felt sorry for the poor SOB already.
"Prisoners, fall in!"
At the sound of the command all hammers stopped swinging and all prisoners stepped forward to form a single line with an arms length between each man.
"Prisoner number 022440, step out of line!" the guard yelled.
He knew that number. It was his number. Kid would know it was his number too. They had both memorized each others numbers the day they had arrived and had been issued them. They had never been allowed to speak to confirm that, but Heyes just knew. He knew Kid was going to be worried. What fresh hell was this, he thought. Whatever they thought he had done, he would have to face the consequences of it regardless of his guilt or innocence. He straightened his back, squared his shoulders and stepped out of the line of men who stood shackled together. An armed guard kept his gun pointed at him while another unlocked the shackles around his ankles. The guard motioned for him to get into the wagon. He did so silently and without protest. Once in the wagon his right ankle was again shackled to a three foot chain with a lead ball attached to the end. As he sat on the back of the wagon, his eyes locked with Kid's. He didn't like the look he saw there. It was a look he'd seen so many times before when anyone dared to threaten Hannibal Heyes. It was good to know that the time here had not, so far, completely killed Kid's spirit and his protective nature. Heyes tried to let his friend know that it would be alright and not to worry. So he offered a weak smile and a wink of his brown eye as the wagon jolted forward carrying him towards whatever fate had in store for him.
"Back to work the rest of you!" he heard the foreman yell as the wagon began its half mile journey back to the compound. He never took his eyes of the back of prisoner number 022441 as he turned to begin swinging the hammer once more. And he didn't miss the blue eyes that stole a glance over his shoulder to give him one last parting look.
When they arrived back at the compound, he was surprised when he wasn't immediately taken to his cell or to the "box," the metal room where prisoners were sometimes placed for punishment on warm sunny days. Instead he was taken to the warden's office. He was shoved inside the door and the door then closed behind him, leaving the guards outside the door. He looked around the room, delighting in the sights of things as common as a clock and a calendar. He had been right, it was April. And it was 3:00 in the afternoon. He was so absorbed in soaking up the sight of things he had not seen in so long he almost forgot that the warden was even there, until he spoke.
"Come in, Mr. Heyes. You have a visitor." It was only then that he saw the man standing to the left of the warden's large wooden desk. He was dressed in a suit and tie and stood with authority. Heyes didn't like the looks of him. And he certainly didn't know why a perfect stranger would be coming to visit him. That's when she stood and turned to face him.
He had not seen her behind the tall back of the wing back chair she sat in. She arose and turned to face him. His mouth fell open and his eyes nearly bugged out of his head. It was her. She was here. His Evie was standing in front of him. She was the most magnificent sight he had ever seen. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Her skin glowed with the vigor of youth and health. Her figure if possible had grown even more voluptuous and desirable. She was dressed like the fine lady that she was in rich silk and lace. Her glorious hair was arranged in an abundance of curls and ringlets atop her lovely head. She stood out like a perfect rose among a field of dead thorns here in this place.
She had been sitting in the chair for half an hour, waiting. Butterflies had formed in her stomach when she had heard the sound of them coming up the hall. Her heart nearly stopped when she heard the door open and she knew he was standing right behind her. It had been so long since she had laid eyes upon him, the man she loved so dearly. She rose from the chair anxious to see that face. The face she adored with it's shining brown eyes and dimpled smile, and the golden brown hair that fell across his forehead so endearingly. But when she turned around her eyes were met with the sight of a stranger. The golden brown locks were gone. His body was thin and waspish. The black and white striped shirt and pants he wore hung from his wiry frame like rags from a pole. And he was carrying a heavy lead ball that was attached to a chain that was shackled to his ankle. She could only stand and stare at him as he slowly bent and placed the heavy ball on the ground at this feet.
When he straightened and captured her gaze once more, he could not miss the startled look on her face. He knew he must look like the walking dead to her. But he didn't care. She was here. His Evie was here. Before he realized what he was doing his mouth opened and words came quietly from out. They both spoke in unison, "Is it really you?" Her voice laced with sorrow and disbelief. His with amazement and hope.
His voice was hoarse and raspy from having been silent for so long. His own voice sounded strange in his ears and he reflexively started to raise his hands to shield his head, expecting a punishing blow for speaking aloud. But then he remembered that the guards were outside the door.
Evie saw the reflex and inwardly cursed every lawman and person associated with the penal system of this territory. It also didn't escape her attention that his voice was weak and rough from being too long unheard. She wanted to rush to him and hold him and kiss away his fears. But she couldn't. The governor's watch dog who had escorted her here was not about to let her get that close. He had his orders. She managed in spite of her horror at the way he looked to smile at him. She hoped he saw in her eyes how much she loved him.
"You may speak to the lady, Mr. Heyes. There will be no repercussions," the warden told him knowing he had questions that needed answering.
Heyes cleared his throat before he spoke. There were so many questions he wanted to ask. He spoke in a low, slow voice, "What are you doing here?"
"I've come with good news. News I wanted to give you personally. You have been pardoned. The governor signed the papers just this morning. He very graciously allowed me to come and give you the good news in person."
His eyes darted among the other three faces in the room. He didn't know what to think. Was this for real? He didn't trust anyone except Kid Curry and the woman in front of him. He had to believe in that trust now. "Pardoned?" he asked with reservation.
"Yes. He sincerely regretted that he didn't grant you the amnesty before you were arrested and he feels you have been in here long enough to pay your debt to society. You are free."
"That's right, Mr. Heyes," the warden said. "I have all of the necessary paper work here and this gentleman has come as the governor's personal representative. It is all legitimate, I assure you. You will be released immediately."
Bubbles of joyful laughter grew inside of his belly. They started to rise up in his throat. He was going to leave this place today. He was going to walk out of here a free man courtesy of the governor himself. He wouldn't have to spend hours trying to figure out a way to get them out of here.....His face was suddenly crestfallen and the bubbles of laughter burst before they could escape leaving behind the laughter to fall unheard to the bottom of his chest.
Evie saw the momentary elation followed by the devastated downfall of his face. "Jed is leaving today, too," she added quickly, knowing that his concern for his partner was on his mind.
And that's when she saw it. The sparkle of light in the chocolate brown eyes. The grin that began slowly and grew into a broad full on smile. And the dimples that seemed even larger in the hollows of his thin face.
"Guards!" the warden summoned the men from outside the door. "Remove the shackles from Mr. Heyes' ankles please."
He couldn't take his eyes off of her as the men removed the restraint from his ankle. He could only imagine how he must look to her. But he didn't care, because he knew that she loved him no matter what. She must have worked so hard to get him released. And not just released, pardoned. Or should he say it must have cost Livvy a bundle. At last his life would be what he had always hoped. As soon as these shackles were gone he would go to her and hold her. His arms ached suddenly to feel her there. But before the shackles were removed, the suited silent man came to Evie and grasped her upper arm. Heyes brows came together in question.
"Please remain in my office, Mr. Heyes, while Mrs. Smith is escorted out of the compound."
Mrs. Smith? Why was she using his alias? The suited man walked Evie to the door and would have ushered her right past him, had she not forcefully stopped. There were pools of tears in her eyes as she laid a gentle hand against his cheek. She let her hand linger on the smooth, clean face, tanned from hours of hard labor in the fields. There was something in her eyes that bothered him. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. He brought his hand up to cover hers as it rested against his cheek. The suited man then urged her out of the doorway. His hand caught hers and held it tight until they were grasping by mere fingertips as she was being practically dragged from the room. And without a word she was swept away and out of his sight.
Evie was marched to the private coach that awaited outside the tall iron gates of the Wyoming Territorial Prison. The governor's henchman fairly lifted her through the doorway of the coach before closing the latch and moving to sit on the top with the driver. Once she was alone inside the coach she lifted the red velvet curtain from the window and watched as the high stone walls of the prison faded in the distance. It was only then that she let the tears fall. She slid from her seat and laid her head on the velvet cushioned seat and cried. What have I done? she asked herself silently. Her only solace....the knowledge that her beloved would soon be far away from this horrid place that she could only describe as hell on earth.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
He waited outside the iron gates for what seemed like an eternity. He had been escorted out by the guards not long after Evie had left. He had assumed she would be waiting for him outside the gates. He had almost floated out thinking about seeing her and holding her at last. But when he was shoved outside the gates like a sack of bad feed all he found was the same dirt road that had brought him here over a year ago. Why hadn't she waited? And where had she gone? And who was the man escorting her? There were so many questions he wanted answered. And he couldn't find the answers until he found Evie. And he couldn't do that until Kid was released. As if hearing his thoughts, the heavy iron gates squeaked and opened. A confused but nonetheless happy, Kid Curry stepped through the gates, dressed in the same set of clothes as Heyes. Every prisoner who was released was issued a standard set of clothes and shoes. All the belongings they had when they had been brought to prison had long since disappeared to who knew where. Heyes didn't figure he would ever see his brown three piece suit and derby hat again. But that didn't really matter. He was free. Free to wear anything he wanted, or nothing at all. And nothing at all would have been preferable to the itchy clothes he and Kid wore now. They each wore a pair of brown pants and a plain white shirt made of homespun. Their feet were covered with second hand well worn boots that didn't fit well. As the sound of clinking metal came from the other side of the closed gates indicating they were now locked on the outside of the prison walls, Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry stood and stared at each other. They just stood there looking each other up and down.
"Well, say something," Heyes finally said to his friend.
Kid cleared his throat, not fully trusting his unused vocal cords to work. "Boy, I hope I don't look as stupid as you do with that bald head and those ugly clothes."
Laughter erupted from both men as they grabbed each other in a bear hug.
"How did this happen, Heyes? How did we just get released like that?"
"We've been pardoned, Kid."
Kid stared at his partner in disbelief. "Did you say pardoned?"
"That's right. Evie was here. She was the one who came and told me the good news." Heyes turned and scanned the area. "I thought she would be waiting here for me, but some man was with her and ushered her out. I guess she's waiting for us down in Laramie."
"Well, let's get walking then. Laramie's only a few miles from here. I sure hope Livvy's with her. And I hope she's buying supper, cause I'm starving."
Heyes put his arm around his friend's shoulder. "I sure am glad that your time behind bars hasn't changed your appetite, Kid. I was worried that having to live in all that silence and in those conditions might alter your state of mind. I can't tell you how much I worried about that. And you know I was working on a plan to get us out of there. It wasn't going to be easy but it was possible. It probably would have taken about ten years to pull it off but I think I could have done it. Did you ever think about busting out? I know you probably thought about food all the time, cause I thought about it a lot myself and I don't love food the way you do. So....."
"I'm glad to see that your time behind bars didn't change your need to talk my head off. Are you going to stand there all day and blab or are we going to Laramie?"
Heyes just stared at this friend for a long moment. "Don't get proddy, Kid."
Kid put his hand against Heyes' back and gave him a gentle shove and they started their walk towards Laramie. They strolled leisurely along, enjoying the feel of the sun on their faces. Again this sun was different. This was the sun of freedom and open spaces. More than once they found themselves looking at each other and bursting into laughter. They were free men. Free to go wherever they wanted without fear of being arrested. They had not gotten far when an old man bent over from age, appeared in the dirt road ahead of them. "Smith and Jones?" the old man asked.
The boys exchanged looks. "Who's asking?" Kid asked.
"Names George. George Poteet. I was asked to find two fellas name of Smith and Jones coming from the prison on this road. And I was asked to give them this. He extended his weathered hand which held a white envelope. On the front in an unfamiliar hand was written Mr. Smith and Mr. Jones. "Who gave this to you?" Heyes questioned the old man.
"Pretty lady in town. Said it was urgent I find you two before you made it all the way to town. She paid me a handsome sum for my troubles too."
"Thank you , Mr. Poteet. That was mighty neighborly of you."
The note was short and sweet. "Go east about three miles and find an apple grove. There is a whitewashed fence there. Wait. Someone will meet you there and you will have the answers."
The boys walked east and found the grove of blooming apple trees. They leaned against the white washed fence and waited. They didn't wait long when the sound of someone approaching was heard in the grove of trees behind them. A young boy of about thirteen emerged from the trees, leading two horses. "You Smith and Jones?" he asked timidly.
"That's us."
"Which one of you is Smith?"
"That would be me."
The boy handed Kid the reins and Heyes another letter and backed away from them like they were monsters. This letter had no writing at all on the envelope, but when he removed the letter he recognized Evie's handwriting immediately. At last, he thought, he would learn where she was and where he could join her. He looked up to see that the boy was turning tail to run. "Hey, boy, don't go anywhere. I might want to talk to you." The boy stiffened and stood still in his tracks. Heyes began to read:
"My Beloved,
If you are reading this then you have been released from that horrible place and my messenger has found you. I know that you have many questions and I wish I could answer them all. But I cannot. The only thing I want you to know is that I have always loved you and I will always love you. You are free now and your freedom is my gift to you. My last gift. In order for you to remain free, I must never have contact with you or Jed again. Please do not try to find me. It would only result in your being sent back to prison and I don't think I could live knowing you were back in that place. Remember that time and distance cannot keep two hearts that love each other apart. When I fell in love with you it was for eternity. I breathed you into my soul and there you will always remain. You will be always in my heart and a part of my very being. Please do not be angry with the decision I have made. As you once had to do, I have made the decision that is best for you and your future, regardless of how painful it may be for us both to live with. But living without you and knowing you are free is preferable to living without you knowing you are locked away in a prison of stone as well as a prison of silence. Please give Jed my love and both of you please take care of each other. You will find another envelope with cash inside one of the saddlebags. I know Jed is probably hungry. I also left you a small piece of myself that you can have as a remembrance of the love that we shared and that I will always feel.
No matter where you go or what you do, always remember that I am a part of you and you are a part of me. Nothing...not time, distance or circumstance will ever change that. I love you, now and always. This is the last time you will ever hear from me on this side of heaven. So until we meet again in God's eternity, farewell, my beloved.
With love,
Your Evie
The look on Heyes' face told Kid that something in the letter was not good.
"What's it say?" Kid asked, but got no reply. "Heyes? What's it say?"
Heyes turned silently and handed the letter to his partner then went to the horses the boy had handed to Kid. As Heyes began a feverish search of the saddlebags, Kid read the letter. When he was finished he looked at his partner. He had turned both both sets of bags out onto the grass and was combing through everything.
Heyes rummaged through the contents of both sets of saddlebags. There were clothes and toiletry items and the envelope with one hundred dollars cash. But where was the part of her she was speaking of. He was hoping it was really another letter, telling him to meet her in some secret, private location where they wouldn't be seen, and all this espionage was just a front. But his search was turning up nothing. He was about to give up looking when he saw it. It had gotten trapped between the folds of a blue shirt. He lifted the folds of the material and picked up the lavender cord with care. The cord had been carefully wrapped and knotted in the center around a lock of shiny, soft brown hair. His heart sank a little. So there was no plan to meet him. She really did mean to never see him again. And she was leaving him this to remember her by. I'll be damned, he thought, if she thinks I'm just going to accept this and move on without even questioning it.
"What does this mean, Heyes? Is she serious? I don't understand any of this."
"Hey, kid! Come here!" Heyes yelled for the boy who stood statue stiff among the trees.
The boy approached Heyes cautiously and spoke with a quivering voice, "Yes, sir?"
"Relax. We're not gonna hurt you. Did a lady give you that letter?"
"Yes, sir."
"What did she look like? Was she young and pretty? Brown hair and silvery blue eyes?"
"No sir."
"Was she a pretty blonde lady with bright blue eyes, kinda short?" Kid asked the boy.
"No, sir. She was older. She had red hair and she reminded me of my granny."
The boys swapped the same confused look. "Was she alone or was somebody with her?"
"She was alone."
"Did she say who had given her the letter?"
"No, sir. She just stopped me in the street and asked me if I had anything to be doing today. Then she gave me a silver dollar to come out here to the orchards and wait for two men named Smith and Jones. I was to give the horses to the one named Jones and the letter to the one named Smith. That's all she said."
"She didn't say anything else? You're not supposed to let her know if you found us or not?"
"Oh, yeah! When I get back to town, I'm supposed to meet her and let her know that I delivered the stuff to you then I get another silver dollar."
Heyes smiled. "You meeting her in Laramie?"
"Yes, sir. At the cafe."
With that the boy sprinted off towards Laramie, anxious to collect the rest of his pay.
"Well, Kid, I'm glad your in the mood for some food. Cause we're headed to that cafe."
While Heyes had questioned the boy, Kid had been changing out of the itchy prison clothes and into the clothes that Heyes had dumped out of the saddlebags. "Sounds good to me, Heyes. And look," Kid said with a grin as he held up his floppy brimmed, concho trimmed hat, "she kept our hats. Your hat is hanging on your saddle horn too."
"She must have claimed our belongings after we were shipped out to prison," Heyes mused as he stripped off the crudely made brown pants and white shirt. As he stood there in the open field with apple trees in blossom behind him and the fading afternoon sun in front of him, he felt an avalanche of emotions descend upon him. He was free. The warm sun on his bare chest punctuated the fact that he could run naked through this field right now and scream at the top his lungs if he chose to. He smiled at himself. He let his bare toes squish in the soft blades of grass under his feet. He looked at Kid who was staring at him as he stood there in his long underwear. He couldn't resist. He took off like a shot and ran as hard as he could across the open field. The sun on his face, the wind against his skin, the grass beneath his feet......he was free. He opened his mouth and let out a whoop and a yell. It had been so long since he had even been able to speak, let alone scream or yell, it felt like the release of years of pent up anger and frustration. He ran back to where Kid still stood watching him. He was out of breath, he felt like his lungs were on fire and the soles of his feet throbbed and stung. But he was free. His brown eyes twinkled as they captured the blue ones of his partner and best friend. As they had always been able to do, they communicated without words. In a matter of seconds, Kid's shoes and clothes were discarded and the two former outlaws were in their underwear, running in the grass, screaming and laughing like children. Like free men. Because that's what they were.
But the sweet taste of freedom left a bitter aftertaste in Heyes mouth when he thought about his sweet Evie. What had she done? She would never have given up on them so easily. She would never have sacrificed their love without a very good reason, or unless she was being forced. He had a feeling she had made some sort of deal to gain their freedom. She had sacrificed their relationship and their future to gain that freedom. He looked down at the lock of hair enclosed by the lavender binding cord that he still held in his hand. He was going to get to the bottom of this if it was the last thing he ever did. Even if it meant losing that freedom.
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