SquidgeWorld Archive

"Okay, so I lied," Wheat admitted. Finally. He was hunkered over in his saddle, the collar of his coat pulled up to keep out some of the wind and snow blowing around them like a whirlwind.

The storm had blown in fast over the mountains, set on them without warning and none of them dressed for it.

Heyes didn't know whether to throttle him or praise him for finally telling the truth. The Kid was so mad, he hadn't said anything for the last half hour. Either that or he was too frozen to expend the energy.

"I didn't recheck the schedule," Wheat went on through chattering teeth, as if telling the truth might somehow cause the sun's rays to cut through the snow clouds and break the chill. "But, Heyes, we've robbed that train four times. Why would they up and change the schedule like that?"

"Maybe," Heyes glowered. "Because we've robbed the train four times!" He wanted to add "you idiot" but restrained himself. It didn't matter now. All that mattered now was that they find some shelter and soon. They'd sat by the track for three hours, waiting, with the air growing colder and the sky more threatening by the moment. No train. Then the snow had started and the wind had picked up and they'd decided to abandon the plan in favor of survival. Half the gang had ridden back toward the Hole but Heyes, Curry, Wheat and Kyle had headed toward Cheyenne. They thought they could make it, could maybe find out what was going on with the train. But the blizzard raged and now it was getting hard to make any progress at all.

"Heyes!"

He could barely see the Kid and he was only fifteen or twenty feet away.

"What?"

"Look." Curry was pointing up the hill. "Is that a house?"

Heyes turned, followed the gesture. The snow coated his face and it was hard to see but...it sure looked like something, a dark shape more than anything else. But maybe...

"Come on," he encouraged.

The four riders urged their horses up hill, fighting them for control. Despite the dubious train robbing skills of a couple members of the group, they were all good horsemen, all experienced. And, in the battle of wills, the men won. Moving up the side of the mountain until the shape became more defined. Not a house. Nothing more than a rock formation jutting up out of the ground like some sort of eerie castle, complete with turrets and parapets. Not a house.

"Hey," Kyle hollared. "Looky there!"

At the base of the rock formation, another shape began to emerge from the swirl of white that enveloped them. A smaller shape but a welcome one. A cabin. Heyes waved an arm for all of them to follow and he led the way. Closer, he thought he caught a whiff of smoke...a wood fire. There were no windows in the cabin but it was the only place around to generate such a smell. Someone must be home.

There was no real stable but there was a sheltering overhang from the roof and they settled the horses there. All four men walked to the front door, snow coating coats, pants, hats and hair to the point that they all looked like cowboy snowmen.

A knock on the door summoned an old woman. Grizzled and toothless, her eyes squinting past cataracts to try to make them out, she eyed them calmly.

"Who're you boys?" she asked.

"Just drifters, ma'am," Heyes said, using his smoothest voice. "Just drifters caught in the storm. We were hoping we might warm up a bit by your fire."

She turned her head, looking toward the hearth, then gestured with her head. "Come on in, boys. Wouldn't turn out a skunk on a night like this."

All four walked straight to the hearth. It gave off the only light in the single room cabin. The furnishings were sparse. A roughly hewn table with two chairs, a small cot in one corner. An old, rickety wood bench sitting in front of the fire. There was a pot of coffee sitting on the floor by the fire. The fragrance was rich and inviting.

"Ma'am," Curry said. "You think we might have some of your coffee?" he asked. "We've got a few dollars. We'd be happy to pay."

Setting the rifle by the door, she shrugged. "No need to pay. Help yourselves. It's strong, like my Jonathan likes it. Just made it. It'll warm you."

It did. It tasted as rich as it smelled and felt like velvet on their throats worn raw from breathing in the frigid air.

Under her breath, the woman muttered. "Been expectin' you."

Her name was Hester, they learned. She'd come to the mountains with her husband, Jonathan, nearly eighteen years earlier. He was a trapper. Five or six years previous, he had gone out to check his traps and never returned. She'd looked for him. Hoped to find him for awhile. But, after a time, she'd come to terms with the fact that he was gone and she was alone.

"Good coffee," Wheat said, genuinely appreciative.

"Jonathan loved a good cup of coffee. Always said, nothin' makes a visitor feel so welcome as being handed a nice cup." She smiled to herself, looking inward.

"Ma'am," Kyle asked her. "Why'd you stay up here all by yerself?"

She sniffed. "Where would I go? Ain't got no family no more. Where would I go?"

"Cheyenne," Wheat suggested. "There's people there. Don't it get lonely up here? Ain't you afraid, being all alone like this?"

She laughed. "Afraid? What's to be afraid of? Ghosts? Goblins? Ain't nobody up here to be afraid of. Injuns is mostly gone. Critters don't bother me none. Every now and again, some drifter comes by and they's always welcome to a cup of coffee. Don't happen much, though. You boys is the first human people I seen in a couple years."

"Kind of sparse up here," Heyes mentioned. "How do you live?"

"Got me a little garden. Keep the seeds each year for the next `un. Shoot me a deer to get through the winter." She shrugged. "Don't need much."

As the night settled around them, the wind howled. The snow mixed with sleet and they could hear it hitting the outside of the cabin. Inside, it was warm. Hester fed them fried potatoes and venison. When it was time for sleep, she passed out heavy blankets, enough to use as pallets on the floor and to cover themselves. She sat on the small cot as the men settled down near the fire.

"When I was a girl," she said softly. "My granny had this big ol' four-poster feather bed. Needed a steppin' stool to get into it, it was so high. We kids used to climb in there together on nights like this, keep each other warm, have a pile of blankets on us so thick we couldn't move."

Watching her, Heyes saw, for a moment, the girl she had once been. Her nearly blind eyes glimmered in the firelight as she returned to her memories. What more did she have?

Morning brought sunlight. Hester fixed breakfast. More potatoes. More venison and coffee.

As he drained his cup, Heyes asked. "Hester, where do you get the coffee? You said you save seeds to plant in your garden but, how do you get coffee when you don't go to town."

Hester smiled curiously. "Well, now, that's the strangest thing. When Jonathan was alive, he'd go into town once a year for supplies. After he left, I just made do with what I could do for myself. But the coffee run out a long time ago."

Heyes and Curry exchanged a look. Kyle scratched his head. Wheat's face scrunched up noticeably as he tried to puzzle it out.

Hester went on. "Then, few years back, on a cold autumn night, I come in from outside and there was a pot of coffee sittin' there by the hearth, hot and ready for the drinkin'. Few minutes later, a drifter come by, lost and cold. Now, every time I find a pot o' coffee by the hearth, I know company's comin'. Drink up, boys."