Will Heyes and Curry find family and fortune?  





The winter sun was already setting when two weary cowboys rode up to a hotel painted in gaudy blues, red and greens.  They looked at the hotel, looked at each other, and looked at the hotel again before the man wearing a battered black hat spoke.



“Well, Kid?  What do you think?”

“I'm thinkin’ that the rooms better not be painted the same way, or I won't be able to get any sleep.”

The first man laughed.  “That ain't what I meant.  You think we can afford this place?  It looks awful fancy.”

“Heyes, with a fancy outside like that, they probably ran out of money to keep the rooms up.  I think we can afford it.”

“Good.  My behind can’t take another hour in the saddle while we look for some other place to stay.”

“Mine neither.  ‘Specially with a storm movin’ in.”

The men dismounted and tied up their horses.  Slinging saddlebags over their shoulders, they went inside.  The lobby was as shabby as the outside was ornate.

“This is more like it, Heyes.  Looks like every other dump we've stayed in.”

“We should be able to afford it then.”  They dropped their possessions next to the reception desk.  “Where's the clerk anyway?  It's almost suppertime; someone should be here.”  He hit the small bell on the desk.  Almost immediately, a thin teenager came running down the stairs from the second floor.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he said breathlessly as he sprinted into the lobby.  “How can I help you gentlemen?”

“We'd like a room,” Heyes said.  “Two beds with a view of the street, with baths.”

“No problem, sir.  Still only $2.00 a night, a real bargain, as long as you don't mind the noise.”

“Noise?” Curry asked.  “What kind of noise?”

“Construction noise during the day.  There's a new owner, and he's fixin' up the place.  It's gonna be real high class when he's done.”  He opened the big registration book for them.  “If'n you'll just sign in here, gents, I can give you your key.”



Heyes smiled at the earnest boy.  “Noise during the day ain't no problem for us, as long as it's quiet at night.  My partner needs to get his beauty rest.”

The boy blinked.  “He needs beauty rest?”

“Never mind him,” Curry said, signing the register.  “He thinks he's funny.”  He pushed the registry over to Heyes, who dipped his pen in an inkwell and signed with a quick scrawl.

“Can someone take care of our horses?  They're right out in front.”

“Yes sir.  My boss, Mr. Cameron, should be back real soon to take over here, and then I can do it.  I’ll get the baths sent up, too.”

“That should be fine.”

They picked up their saddlebags and went upstairs.  As they turned around a corner, an older man with a peg leg came into the lobby from a side door.

“There's two horses out front, Tommy.  Whose are they?”

“They belong to a couple fellas who just checked in, Mr. Cameron.”

“Did you have them sign in, like I told you?”

“Yes sir, take a look.”

Cameron looked at the signatures.  “Joshua Smith and Thaddeus Jones?  Is this some kind of joke?”

Tommy peered at the book without understanding.  “Joke, sir?”

“Two fellas travellin' together called Smith and Jones?  That can't be their real names.”

“Gosh!  You mean they’re aliases, like in the dime novels?  Maybe them two are really famous outlaws!”  Tommy's eyes were bright with excitement.

“Settle down, son.  Famous outlaws don’t stray from the outlaw trail in wintertime.  I probably spoke out of turn. Still… Joshua Smith sounds real familiar to me.  Wish I could place that name.  What’s he look like?”

“Nothin’ special.  Brown hair, brown eyes.”  Tommy shrugged.  “Just another cowboy.  I didn’t really pay him no mind.”

“Huh.  It’s probably not important.  I’ll have to think on it more.”  He slammed the registration book shut.  “Go ahead and stable their horses.  After you do that, come on back here.  I got some more chores for you.”

“Yes, sir.”  The teen-ager almost ran out the front door.  Cameron waited till he had gone, then opened the registration book again and looked at the newest signatures more carefully.  His eyes opened wide in surprise.

“It can’t be,” he whispered.  “It can’t.”



Curry sat alone by the front window in the small café, elbows resting on the table and sipping coffee.  He watched activity swirl around him; customers came and went, waitresses took orders and brought out trays of food, and families chatted.  Glancing outside, he saw fat raindrops slowly splatter against the window.  The restaurant door flew open on a gust of wind, and Heyes blew in with it, holding his hat onto his head with one hand.

“Weather’s getting nasty,” Heyes said, sitting down across from him and putting his hat on the table next to Curry’s.  “Lucky we got here when we did.  I don’t like the thought of riding through a cold downpour.”

“Did you get those telegrams sent?”

“Uh huh.  With any luck, we’ll have some job offers tomorrow.”

“I hope so.  Our money's not gonna hold out much longer.”

“Don’t worry, Kid.  We’ll find something.  We always do.  Meantime, tonight we'll check out the poker talent at the saloon and pick up some money along with the gossip.  There's bound to be someone in this town who wants to hire two fine, upstanding men.”

‘Oh sure, that’s fine for them, but how’s that gonna help us?”

“Have a little faith, Kid.  This looks like a friendly town.  Something’s about to happen.  I can feel it.”

A waitress stopped by and held up a coffee pot, and Heyes nodded.

“For example,” Heyes continued, “I bet this fine lady knows everything that happens in this town.  Don't you, ma'am?

“I moved here two months ago,” she replied, pouring coffee into his cup.  “You want fried chicken or beef stew?”

Heyes’ smile faltered.  “That’s all you got?”

“Bring us one of each,” Curry told her.  “We'll figure out who gets what when it comes.”  She walked away without acknowledging him.

“What were you sayin’ about this bein’ a friendly town?”

“She’s new here.”

“She probably moved here because she fits right in.”

“Kid, you worry too much.”

“Haven’t you said, you like it when I worry?”

“Alright, I did.  But I’m telling you, you worry about the wrong things.”

Curry sat back in his chair and folded his arms.  “I do, do I?  What should I be worried about?  Besides the fact we’re runnin’ out of money, we’re hopin’ against hope that one of those telegrams will get us a job offer while it’s January in Texas, and we’re probably gonna be sleepin’ out in the freezin’ rain a couple nights from now.”



Heyes grinned.  “You should worry about how you’re gonna get any of that fried chicken.”

“You’re the one should be worried.  Ain’t you heard?  Nobody’s faster than me.”



It was still early in the evening when Cameron heard the main door of the hotel crash open, and two very wet men entered, dripping water as they shook themselves like wet dogs, arguing all the while.

“Yeah, I heard what you said.  We’ll check out the poker talent, you said.  Don’t worry about money, you said.”

“Will you quit already!  It ain’t my fault the locals don’t come out to play when the weather’s bad.”

“How’re we supposed to make any money playin’ cards when there ain’t no one to play with!“

Cameron stood up.  “Gentlemen, is there a problem I can help you with?”  The men stopped and seemed to take a breath.  The dark-haired one answered in a mild voice.

“No sir, nothing you can help with, unless you got the power to turn off this rainstorm.  I don’t know if I’ve ever been this wet before outside a swimming hole.”

“Sure wish I did.  Storms like this don’t come often, but when they do, they’re humdingers and can last for a couple days.”

“Don’t nobody in this town go out in the rain?” the blond man asked.  “Where we come from, nothin’ stops poker.”

“Oh, there’s poker, alright, except it moves from the saloon to private clubs and homes.  Most people don’t venture out much in this kind of weather.  Sure makes me feel for anyone out on the trail tonight.”

“Makes us grateful to be stayin’ here.”

“Ah.  You must be Misters Smith and Jones.  Which one of you is which?”

“I’m Joshua Smith, and this here’s my partner, Thaddeus Jones.”

Cameron folded his hands on the big desk.  “Now how in the heck did that happen?”

The two men exchanged a quick glance.

“Long story,” Smith said.  “The short of it is, we met at a job and got along good, so we decided to travel together.  In these times, it’s safer to have someone you trust watching your back.”

“So I’ve heard,” Cameron commented.  “Though I don’t travel so much anymore, since this.”  He walked around to the front of the desk, and the men saw his peg leg.  “Now I work here.  Name’s John Josephus Cameron Junior.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Cameron.  This is quite a place you’ve got.”

“You can call me JJ, Mr. Smith.  The full name’s a mouthful, even for me.  As for this here hotel, it ain’t so much yet, but it will be.  Renovation’s just gettin’ started on the rooms.”

“The paint job outside sure is somethin’,” Curry put in.  He and Heyes stepped over to shake hands with Cameron.

“It is that,” Heyes agreed.  “And we’re Thaddeus and Joshua, JJ.  We’re not much for formality.”

“Glad to hear it.  And somethin’ might be the right description for that exterior, Thaddeus.  The owner heard bright colors are all the rage back east.  They call buildings look like that ‘painted ladies.’  The good kind, I guess.  Though when I was young like you two, I was more familiar with the other kind.”  Heyes and Curry laughed.

“Since we’re all friends now,” Cameron went on, “I guess you won’t mind if I ask you, what brings you boys here?  We don’t get too many guests this time of year.  That’s why we’re doing the renovations now.”

“We came from Colorado,” Curry explained.  “Mighty cold and snowy there.”

“Colorado?  From hearing you talk, I’d say you sound more like you come from Kansas.  Especially you, Joshua.”

Heyes’ and Curry’s smiles faded.

“You got a good ear, JJ,” Heyes admitted.  “But I left when I was barely more than a boy.  Hardly been back since.”  Cameron just looked at him without commenting.

“We’re here lookin’ for work,” Curry said quickly, breaking the awkward silence.  “Joshua sent out some telegrams today, and we’re hopin’ somethin’ pans out from that.  You wouldn’t know about anybody here in town lookin’ to hire, do you?”

“What kind of work are you looking for?”

“We’re open to opportunity, JJ.”  At Cameron’s scowl, Heyes hurried to explain.

“My partner means we’ve done lots of different things.  Security work, ranching, guiding.  Management things, too.  We managed a saloon for a while.”

Cameron turned his attention back to Curry.  “I can’t think of anything offhand.  Ranching’s big around here, but nobody’s hiring in wintertime.  And like you saw at the saloon, most people stay around home when the weather’s like this, so the stores ain’t hiring either.”  As he talked, he saw both men’s shoulders start to droop, and he tried to reassure them.

“Don’t look like that, boys.  My lady friend always says I’m seeing the glass half-empty, instead of half-full.  Tomorrow I’m going out to the boss’s home.  He’s got a finger in every pie around here.  I can ask him if he knows about any jobs.  Would that help?”

“That’s generous of you, JJ.  We’d appreciate that.  Wouldn’t we, Thaddeus?”

“Sure would, JJ.”  A loud clap of thunder punctuated Curry’s words, and all three men looked around, as if expecting the walls to start shaking.

“You might want to make an early night of it, boys.  Nothing and nobody’s gonna be out and about tonight.”

“No, probably not.  Guess we’ll dry off and hit the hay.”  Heyes reached out to shake Cameron’s hand again.  “Real pleasure meeting with you, JJ.  We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes, you will.  Can’t hardly avoid me, I’m here so much.  Good night.”  He watched the two men go upstairs, while thunder rolled outside steady and regular as the ocean’s waves.

When Heyes and Curry disappeared around the corner upstairs, heading towards their room, the genial smile fell from Cameron’s face.  “Yes, Joshua Smith,” he said to himself, “you’ll be seeing more of me for sure.  If I’m right about you, you are gonna make me a rich man.”



“Well?”  Curry leaned against the exterior of the telegraph office, trying to avoid the constant drip of rainwater seeping through the overhang that protected the sidewalk.

Heyes stuffed several yellow pieces of paper in his vest pocket.  “Nothing.  Absolutely nothing.  They haven’t all answered yet, but none of these are hiring.”

“Not even Big Mac?  He’s always got some scam goin’.”

“Not even him.  The longer he’s been married, the more honest he’s become.”

“Sheesh,” Curry said, blowing his nose into a handkerchief.  “Somethin’s wrong with the world when even Big Mac goes straight.”

“You got that right, Kid,” Heyes said, putting both hands on his hips and squinting at the dark clouds gathered over the wooden buildings.  “You can’t depend on anything to stay the same anymore.”

“One thing we can always depend on is beer.  How about we go get some while the carpenters are poundin’ at the hotel?”

Heyes put a friendly hand on Curry’s shoulder.  “And people say I’m the one with good ideas. Lead on.”

They walked the half-block to the small saloon opposite from the hotel.  Passing through the batwing doors, they saw two men sitting at a small table near the bar.  One appeared to be sleeping, his head resting on his arms.  The other wore an apron and was clearly the bartender.  He jumped to his feet and went behind the bar as Heyes and Curry came up and leaned forward, resting their forearms on the bar.  Water dripped from their hats.  The bartender grabbed a dirty rag and wiped up the puddles forming on the bar.

“What can I get for you gents today?”

“Two beers, please,” Curry said.  “Sorry about makin’ a mess for you.”

“No problem, gents,” the bartender spoke as he drew the beers.  “Gives me somethin’ to do.  Gets pretty dull here on these winter days.  That’ll be ten cents.”

Heyes put a coin on the counter.  “No poker?”

“No sir.  Not till Saturday night, most like.  Today’s Wednesday.”



“Yeah, I guess it is.”  He raised his glass to Curry’s.  “Here’s to Saturday.”  They touched glasses and took long drinks.  Curry put the glass down on the bar and sneezed.  He took out his handkerchief and blew his nose.

“Could you do that a little louder?  Some of the folks out in the cemetery are still in their graves.”

Curry stuffed the handkerchief into his vest pocket.  “Can’t help it.  This kind of weather always makes my nose run.”

The batwing doors flew open, crashing hard against the walls, and both men startled, tensing up until they saw who it was.

“Mr. Smith!  Mr. Jones!  I been lookin’ all over for you!”

“Slow down, son!” Heyes said.  “Where’s the fire?”

Tommy came to a dead halt, blinking rapidly.  “Fire?  There ain’t no fire.  Not in all the rain we been havin’.”

“Never mind.  That’s another one of Mr. Smith’s jokes.  Why are you lookin’ for us?”

“Mr. Cameron, he’s out at Mr. Pemberton’s place.  That’s who owns the hotel, you know, right?  Anyway, he says Mr. Pemberton’s lookin’ to play some poker, only he ain’t got enough players, and maybe you want to come have dinner and play some cards and stay over the night and maybe see if Mr. Pemberton’s hirin’, and if’n you want to go, you can take the carriage he sent to town since he needed somethin’ from the druggist anyhow, and he won’t charge you for the hotel tonight ‘cause then he can keep the carpenters workin’ longer and then he’ll get the job done faster ‘cause –“

“Whoa!”  Curry held up his hands.  “Take a breath!  We got it!  What do you think, Joshua?  You feel like you could play some poker tonight?”

“That’s a mighty generous offer, Tommy.  We accept.”

“Carriage is at the hotel now, Mr. Smith.  I already got the box from the druggist loaded.  If’n you’re ready, you can go right away.”

“How about that, Thaddeus!  Looks like we found us some poker after all.  What do you think of that?”  He slapped Curry on the back, who then sneezed and fumbled for his handkerchief to blow his nose, hard.



Heyes pulled back the leather window of the coach, squinting his eyes.

“See anything yet?”

“Nope,” Heyes said, leaning back onto his seat.  “Fog’s too thick.  Don’t matter none.  We should be there any minute.”  He stared at Curry, who was leaning his head back and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Still stuffed up, Kid?”

“I hope I’m not gettin’ a cold.”

“You’ll feel better after you get some dinner.”

“I’m not that hungry.”

“Maybe you really are getting sick.”

“Funny.”



Both men were abruptly jolted out of their seats when the carriage rocked back and forth and came to a sudden stop.

“I sure hope this means we’ve arrived instead of gettin’ robbed,” Curry said.

Heyes cautiously opened the carriage door.  They were stopped in front of a broad porch.

“We’ve arrived somewhere.”

“Joshua!  Thaddeus!  Glad you made it!  Come on inside!”  JJ was standing on the porch, leaning on a cane.

Heyes and Curry jumped down, trying to avoid the deepest mud and failing.  Both men had to pull hard to get their boots out of the muck and make their way up the porch steps.

“Just kick ‘em off,” Cameron advised.  “We got some house slippers for you.  Miss Pemberton don’t like mud being tramped through the house.”

“Sure thing, JJ.”

“Miguel will take your coats and hats, boys.  And you’ve got that druggist box, too?”

“Sure do.  It’s in the coach.”

They took off their wet coats and hats and handed them to the Mexican man.

“Thanks for comin’ out here tonight, boys.  I told Mr. Pemberton all about you.  He’s lookin’ forward to meetin’ you.”

“That’s mighty nice of you, JJ.  But ah…what exactly did you tell him?” Heyes asked.  At JJ’s expression, Heyes hurried to explain.  “I mean, I hope we don’t disappoint him.  After all, we’re just a couple of ordinary fellas.  We aren’t card sharks.”

“VERY ordinary,” Curry added.  “Nothin’ special at all.”  Heyes rolled his eyes.  “What?  It’s the truth, Joshua.”

“I’m sure you boys are underestimating yourselves.  Besides, Mr. Pemberton likes inviting new people to the house since he don’t get out much anymore.  If you’ll come with me, we’ll get the introductions done.”

They followed Cameron down a long hall to a wood-paneled room with a game table set with six chairs.  A thin older man with luxuriant gray mutton chops sat in a wheelchair.  Next to him stood a slender middle-aged woman with wavy chestnut hair piled on top of her head, pouring whiskey from a crystal decanter into glasses.

“Joshua Smith, Thaddeus Jones, meet your hosts.  This is Mr. Harley Pemberton and his daughter, Miss Ada Pemberton.”

Harley Pemberton reached out to shake hands with his visitors.  “You’ll pardon me if I don’t get up, gentlemen.  I’m not as mobile as I once was.”

“Very generous of you to invite us out here, not knowing us at all,” Heyes said, sitting down and accepting a glass from the woman.

“It’s my pleasure.  JJ said you seemed to be a couple fine young men.  Besides, it works out for me.  I get stimulating company, and I can keep the carpenters working longer, maybe finish that job a little sooner.  And I understand you’re from Kansas, which holds a special interest for me.”

Heyes and Curry exchanged a quick, concerned glance.  “May I ask why that is?” Heyes said, trying to maintain a light, uninterested tone.  Next to him, Curry’s face had gone still and wary.

Pemberton sipped his whiskey deliberately.  His daughter and JJ watched him closely.  Pemberton put his glass down on the table and wiped his mouth with one hand before answering Heyes’ question.

“Well, I might as well tell you the story straight out now, instead of beating around the bush for a while.  I had a son, from my second marriage.  Ada, she’s from my first marriage.”  His eyes flicked to Ada, and she rested one hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently.  “My second wife left me.  Took off with my little boy to Kansas couple years before the war started.  I tried to find them, but no luck.”

“That’s hard, Mr. Pemberton.  Real hard.  But I don’t see where me and Joshua come into this.”

Ada sat down in a chair behind her father and folded her hands in her lap.  Cameron almost collapsed into a chair next to Heyes.

Harley Pemberton twirled his empty glass between his hands.  Standing up suddenly as if she’d just awakened, Ada picked up the decanter and refilled her father’s glass.  He didn’t acknowledge her as she sat down again.

“When JJ told me about you, we both realized you’re about the same age as my son would be.  I know it’s unlikely, but I thought, maybe you might have run into my Joshua somewhere along the way.  I have some questions.”

Heyes and Curry sat up straighter.

“Yeah,” JJ said.  “Same Christian name as yours.  Seemed like a funny coincidence at first, then I remembered somethin’ Miss Ada says.  She says ‘Coincidence is God’s way of remainin’ anonymous.”

“Depends on what the questions are.”  Curry’s right hand slipped under the table to rest on his gun.  A quick flick of Heyes’ eyes showed that he noticed.

“No such thing as a free lunch, as another saying goes,” Heyes remarked.

“JJ tells me you lost your families in the border wars.”

Heyes shifted in his chair uncomfortably.

“That’s true.  We both ended up in orphanages.  Didn’t like it there, so we both ran away when we were fifteen.”

JJ’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.  “You told me you two met at a job.”

“We did, JJ,” Heyes explained.  “We’re two years apart in age.  We had similar circumstances growing up, that’s all.  Guess that’s one reason we get along as well as we do.  We came up the same way.”

“Have you ever heard of the Valparaiso Home for Waywards?” Ada asked.  Heyes’ and Curry’s bodies tensed up, clearly visible to the others.

“I see that you have,” she said drily.

“Mr. Pemberton hired some Pinkertons to find his Joshua,” JJ explained.  “They found out that his wife and the man she run off with got killed in the border wars, and the boy got sent to Valparaiso.”

Curry sneezed, and everyone looked at him while he wiped his nose.

“Excuse me.”  He looked at his host.  “I was there, and so was Joshua at another time.  It was a mighty big place, ‘cause of the war and all.  Lots of boys lost their folks.  But I never knew any boy named Pemberton.  Do you recall anyone by that name, Joshua, durin’ your time there?”

Heyes was shaking his head.  “No, sure don’t.  Sorry, Mr. Pemberton, Miss Pemberton.  I got a pretty good memory.  I’m certain I never knew a Pemberton there.”

“What about afterwards?” Miss Ada put in.  “You might’ve run into him later, after the war.”

“I don’t think so, ma’am.”

“Well.” Mr. Pemberton steepled his fingers and leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.  After a moment, he looked back at his guests.  “Well.  It was a long shot at best.  Keep thinking on it, will you?  Some memory might come to you.  You might’ve run into my boy later on, as Ada says.  He had dark hair and eyes like you, Joshua.”

“Sure thing,” Curry assured him.  “We’d be happy to help any way we could.”

“There’s a reward, too,” JJ added.  “Big one.  Mr. Pemberton here, he’s mighty well-off.  He wants his son to take over his businesses.”

“There is that,” Pemberton added.  “Ada, my dear, would you mind rolling me into the kitchen?  I want to check on dinner preparations for our guests.”  He turned to smile reassuringly at Heyes and Curry.  “No, I didn’t forget I promised dinner.  While I make sure everything’s organized in a satisfactory way, enjoy more of this fine whiskey.”  Ada rose from her seat and took the handles of the wheelchair, pulling her father away from the table and pushing him into the hallway.  The three men watched her go.  When she was out of sight, they looked at each other, and all three sighed simultaneously.

“I hope you boys don’t feel ambushed,” JJ told them.

“Only a little,” Heyes admitted.  “I sure wasn’t expecting to get into life stories.”

“I heard you two talking about needing to make money when you came in to the hotel last night.  It’d be worth your while to help him find his boy.  He’s offering a $5,000 finder’s fee.”

Curry’s eyes got big.  “He’s offerin’ a bounty?”

“You could call it a bounty, but I think it’s more of a reward.  He’s not planning to send his son to jail.  Mr. Pemberton, he ain’t in good health.  You might’ve noticed.”

“I did wonder,” Heyes said.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Cancer.  It’s pretty bad.  The doctor thinks he don’t have much time left.  He wants to find his boy real bad, so he can inherit.”

“You mean he’d cut his daughter out of his will?”

“Oh, no, Thaddeus, she’d be taken care of, no matter what happens.  But if the son don’t show up before her father passes away, she gets everything.  Harley, he’s an old-fashioned type.  He thinks a lady’s place is in the home, and not in business, so he’s plannin’ for his son to take over.”

“Even a son he don’t know?”  Curry was incredulous.  “He could be a bank robber.  Or worse.”

“Hard to imagine what’s worse than a bank robber,” Cameron mused, staring at the doorway, “stealing money from hard-working people.”

Behind Cameron’s back, Heyes mouthed, “Will you shut up” across the table to Curry, who only scowled back at him.

“So, JJ,” Heyes said, “How about more of that whiskey?  All this talking is giving me a powerful thirst.”



Heyes rolled over on his side restlessly, pulling the blanket up to his chin and scrunching the pillow under his head.  He shut his eyes tight in the darkened room, but could only lay still for a moment.  The sound of snoring penetrated the bedroom wall. He tried putting the pillow on top of his head.  That position lasted no more than a minute.  Finally, he threw the pillow to the floor and the covers back.  He sat up and reached for his pants, pulling them on quickly.  He padded to the door on bare feet and went out in the hall.  Only a few wall sconces were lit in the hallway, casting a dim glow.  He walked to the door next to his and knocked gently.  When there was no answer, he opened the door and slipped inside.

Loud snores were coming from a shape buried under a pile of quilts on the bed.  Crossing over, he glanced at the gun belt hanging from the headboard before bending down to speak in a stage whisper.

“Kid!  Wake up!”  There was no response, except maybe an intensification of the snores.  He tried again, bending lower and whispering a little louder.

“Come on!  You gotta wake up!”

Curry sat up so quickly that his head collided with Heyes’.  Both recoiled, putting a hand to their bruised heads.

“Why’d you have to do that?”

“Why’d I do that?” Curry echoed, in the same loud whisper.  “Why’d you do that!  What’re you wakin’ me up for?”

“You were snoring.”

“So what?  You’re not even sleepin’ in the same room.”

“I could hear you through the wall.  I couldn’t sleep.”

“I can’t help that!  My head’s so stuffed up, I can hardly breathe.”  Curry lay back down on his side and pulled the quilts up around him tightly.  “Go away, will ya?  Go downstairs and pace for an hour or two.  Just let me sleep.”

Heyes straightened up, hands on his hips.  “Some partner you are.”  Curry pulled the covers up over his head.  “Fine.  That’s just fine.  Go to sleep.  See if I care.”  Heyes spun around and left the room, remembering just in time to close the door gently instead of slamming it.  As he left, Curry punched his pillow a few times, and settled down again.

In the hall, Heyes turned rapidly to go downstairs but stopped after only a few steps.  He flattened himself against the wall at a corner, listening intently.  The sounds of a subdued conversation echoed.  Slowly, carefully, he twisted to peek around the corner.

About ten feet away, he saw JJ and Ada Pemberton standing outside an opened door.  Each wore a long robe and, apparently, nothing else.  They stood close together, his hands on her waist and her hands around his neck.  Their foreheads almost touched as they spoke to each other.  The words weren’t distinct, but their actions were clear.  As they separated, Heyes shrank against the wall again, waiting in the darkness until he heard the door click shut and JJ’s peg leg clicking on the floor, diminishing as he moved away.  He waited a moment longer before he retreated to Curry’s room, entering as quietly as he’d done a few minutes before.

The mound of blankets that was Kid Curry shook with each snore.  Heyes crossed to the bed and, this time, stood farther away from his sleeping partner.

“Kid!  Wake up!”  The snoring continued.  Heyes fumbled on the bedside table for matches.  He struck a light to the oil lamp, brightening the room.  The snoring ceased.  A hand reached out from under the covers and pulled them down to reveal Curry’s exasperated face.

“What is it now?”

Heyes sat down on the foot of the bed.  Curry scooted his legs over to the other side, giving Heyes more room to sit.

“Want to know what I just saw?”

“No, but I bet you’re gonna tell me anyway.”

“I just saw Ada and JJ kissing in the hall.  What do you think of that?”

“I think that news could’ve waited till morning.”

“Kid, you’re not thinking.”

“What’s to think?  She’s still a fine-lookin’ woman for her age.  And JJ said he had a lady friend.”

Heyes leaned against the brass fittings of the footboard.  “I’m thinking about this lost Pemberton son.  If he don’t turn up, she inherits everything.  And judging by what we’ve seen of this house, there’s a lot to inherit.”

“The odds of Joshua Pemberton turnin’ up after all this time are pretty low.  Unless he’s really you, and you been holdin’ out on me all these years.  Maybe I should turn you in for the $5,000 reward.”

“That’s real funny.  I just can’t figure JJ out.  If he finds the son, he gets the reward, but his lady friend don’t inherit the big money.  What kind of angle is he working?”

Curry yawned.  “He’s thinkin’ of himself, just like every other bounty hunter out there.  What kind of angle does he need, besides earnin’ a $5,000 reward?”

“I don’t think so.  There’s something I’m missing here.”

“I know what’s missin’ here.”  Heyes looked at him expectantly.  “I’m missin’ sleep.  Go to bed, Heyes.  Go for a walk.  Get a drink.  Whatever you do, just do it someplace else.  Please.”

“Alright, alright.” Heyes got up and walked over to the door.  “I’m gonna think on it.  Maybe I’ll go downstairs and get some more of that whiskey.”

“Good for you,” Curry muttered, laying down again.  “Just so long as you do your thinkin’ away from here.”

Heyes was barely outside in the hall again when he heard the first snores coming from the bedroom.  He went back to his bedroom and put on a shirt and socks.  He looked briefly at his bed, considering, when the full volume of snoring resumed from the next room.  He sat down on the bed, put on the borrowed house slippers, and went out in the hallway again.

Coming down the broad staircase to the first floor, he paused for a moment, running both hands through his unkempt hair, trying to find his bearings in the dark.

“Are you lost, Mr. Smith?”

Startled, Heyes jumped back a couple steps, reaching for the gun that normally hung low at his hip.

“Miss Pemberton!  What’re you doing up this time of night?”

“I might ask you the same question.”  She was still in her robe, with her long hair in a thick braid hanging over her shoulder.

“Couldn’t sleep with Thaddeus snoring like a freight train.  He’s got a cold.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.  That he has a cold, I mean, not that he’s snoring.”

“His snoring is pretty sorry, if you ask me.”

She ignored the feeble joke.  “I can see he gets some hot tea with honey, brandy and lemon.  He should spend tomorrow resting and keeping warm.  That’s the only way to make sure a cold doesn’t turn into pneumonia.”

“That’s kind of you, Miss Pemberton.  I’m sure he’d appreciate it, but we’re heading back to town in the morning.”

She tilted her head to one side.  “In all your nighttime ramblings, Mr. Smith, haven’t you bothered to look out a window?”

“A window?”  She nodded.  “No, ma’am, why?”

“Follow me.”  She turned and walked towards the parlor, and he followed.  She pulled asked the heavy curtains at the first window and waited for him.  He stood next to her and looked outside, and his jaw dropped.  The wet hillsides that he’d passed through that afternoon were transformed into a winter scene straight out of a children’s story.  Ice coated everything – the trees, the porch, the fence.  Icicles hung from the gutters.  He could hear the sleet striking against the windowpane.

“It started about the time I went to bed,” she said.  “And it doesn’t show any signs of stopping.  Mr. Smith – Joshua, if I may –- you and your friend are going to be our guests for another couple of days, I believe.  It’s not safe to travel in these conditions.”

“No ma’am,” he breathed.  “I guess not.  We’re grateful to you and your father for your hospitality.  I don’t know how I can repay it.”

“Oh, I’ll think of something.  I’m sure I can think of something.”