Chapter Text
Two Modern Day Robin Hoods and Their Maid Marion
by
Dolly Doyle
-1-
It had all gone wrong, horribly, horribly wrong and the where, when, or why hardly mattered now. It was over and they were all dead. It had been a trap and an obvious one. She had balked because every instinct she had was screaming at her to pass the job up. The information was too easily obtained. It wasn’t that information hadn’t fallen into their laps before, but not like this and not with such a distinct odor. The payroll was too large for the size of the work force, the security too lax for such a large payroll, the train too long for the amount of passengers that usually traveled through the valley that just happened to be close to the Devil’s Hole, and the car with the safe was too close to the caboose. It was a trap, and the net was cast out, and whoever was caught in it was going to be someone’s big fish to hang over the fireplace.
They had argued bitterly, just short of coming to blows, but in the end she relented because he had dangled the one carrot in front of her that she couldn’t resist. This would be the last job. One big score that would set them up for life and satisfy his lust for revenge. She agreed because she hadn’t the strength to fight anymore. She no longer believed any of it; not that he still loved her, not that this was righting a great wrong, and not that he would ever stop. He had changed and it had turned very ugly. Revenge had become pure greed. She was no longer the love of his life, the only person who could understand and share his pain. She had become the conscience he would no longer listen to, a thorn in his side and, when this was over, he would leave her and he knew she knew. She was now ready to run into a lawman’s bullet just to end her pain.
The morning was cold, too cold, for being late May and by noon snow was falling. She wasn’t sure if the snow was a good or bad thing. If it was a trap, it might make getting out of this alive a little easier or else seal the deal on their fate. She believed the latter. If he had a brain in his head, he’d take this as an omen and forget the whole thing. He wouldn’t. There was too much money, too many promises and worst of all too much pride. He wanted to rub her nose in the fact that he could lead this gang without her too much to let saner heads prevail. One way or another in an hour it would be all over. They would either be all dead or the richest outlaws west of the Mississippi. She was finished no matter how it turned out and that was one promise to herself she would keep.
The snow was falling so hard you couldn’t see but a few feet .The pass had the train snowbound without much effort on their part. She had hung back, content to sit on her horse and watch the comedy of errors play out in front of her. They were falling more than they were walking and the cold was making the door to the freight car difficult to open. With a whoop, the car door flung open and, just as quickly, twin shotgun blasts removed the faces of Billy Barstool and Cletus Hobbes. Men came poring out of the car like ants firing their guns. In quick succession, Matt Bodine, Ezra Tanner and Wade Hobbes lie dead in the snow.
Jack Cole, still mounted on his horse, was already heading up the hill yelling for her to do the same. She hesitated for a moment before catching a bullet in her upper arm and self-preservation took over. She wheeled her horse around and made for the top of the hill. Now the snow was her friend making her a harder target to hit and providing a chance to get lost in it over the rise.
With bullets whizzing all around, she flattened against her horse’s neck and urged him on. He was a game little horse, leaping through the snow with an astonishing burst of speed. The top was in sight when she heard Jack’s horse scream and pitch forward into the snow. Jack hit the ground running calling for her.
As much as she hated him at this moment, she couldn’t leave him. She allowed herself one last lie. If they could get out of this alive maybe they could find the reasons they loved each other in the first place and start again. She whirled her horse back around and into a bullet striking her upper left thigh. Gritting her teeth she pushed on, holding out her hand to Jack so she could swing him up behind her but the son of a bitch tried to pull her off her horse. Later, she realized his cowardice probably saved her life. As he put his foot in the stirrup to swing up, he tried to yank her off and he moved his body into a bullet. She shrieked and pulled her hand out of his and watched in horror as his body sank into the snow, his eyes staring sightlessly with blood running from his mouth.
Before she could gather her scattered wits her head seemed to explode and, barely conscious, she turned around and, leaving the death and destruction below she used the last of her strength to reach the top of the ridge and get lost in the snow.
* * *
“It’s cold.”
“I know, Kid.”
“Doesn’t look like the snow is going to let up anytime soon.”
Hannibal Heyes let out an exasperated sigh, wondering how much of his younger cousin’s bellyaching he could take before the thought of murdering him would seem like a good idea. After meeting with their friend and mentor, Lom Trevors, and finding out there was no news yet on their amnesty, they had decided to go up into the mountains for a rest. They knew this region of the country and like as not could kick back without being disturbed.
The unexpected snowstorm had brought out the worst in Heyes’ cousin and partner Kid Curry, who liked neither being cold or wet. They broke camp quickly and headed down the mountain, not relishing the thought of being snowed in. This late in the season it would probably be only a day or two but it was a risk neither wanted to take.
As the snow fell heavier and the going got tougher, Kid grew more determined to drive his cousin insane while Heyes resolved to ignore him before he pulled out his gun and shot him. Turning his horse into the wind he hoped the howling would drown out the whining and give him a little peace so he could figure out where to go to get out of this storm where they wouldn’t be recognized and arrested. He really didn’t want to go back to Porterville, although he was sure Lom would put them up until the snow thawed. Heyes just didn’t want to compromise his friend. Another option was Devil’s Hole. They would be safe there but it also brought on its own set of problems in the form of Wheat Carlson. Wheat had been a constant thorn in Heyes’ side and, deep down, if Heyes was honest with himself, Wheat was the deciding factor on whether or not he and the Kid were to try for the amnesty. If Wheat wanted to be leader of the gang so bad he was welcome to it and it gave Heyes no small amount of satisfaction that Wheat was having a hard time trying to fill Heyes’ boots.
Every time they would run into someone from their old gang, Heyes would listen, with the proper amount of sympathy, on Wheat’s shortcomings as a leader. Wheat would get wind of it and get all-full of bluff and bluster about how he was now leader and Heyes and the Kid weren’t needed. Heyes knew without a doubt that going to Devil’s Hole would not be a good idea. Between Kid’s whining and Wheat’s self-importance, someone would have to die.
“Heyes, hold up.” Annoyed he looked in the direction Kid was pointing. Squinting, he could almost make out the outline of a horse and what looked like a body on the ground being buried in the snow.
Moving as fast as the snow would allow, Kid reached the horse first and gathered up the reins and set about checking on the animal. It was exhausted but other than that no worse for wear. Time out of the snow, rest and feed and the animal would be fine.
Heyes jumped off his horse and knelt beside the half frozen form. Gently turning the body upright he exclaimed. “It’s a girl.” He put his head down on her chest.” She’s still alive.” He brushed the snow and the blood away from her face and gasped looking up. “Kid, It’s Gun Sonders”
“Please, Heyes, say it ain’t so?" Kid moaned. He closed his eyes and leaned heavily into his horse. This day just couldn’t get any worse. Could it? Gun Sonders, Jack Cole and their gang had been the bane of their existence during the last 3 months of their leadership at Devil’s Hole. They appeared out of nowhere and quickly became the Romeo and Juliet Bandit darlings of the newspapers. It seemed like every time they rode into a town for a bank robbery, Gun and her gang were riding out with the money or they would hit a train to find out it had been robbed the stop before. It was part of the reason Heyes was not leaving the Brooker 202 behind on the Columbine train no matter how stupid it was to drag that safe off. Heyes was ready to have a posse catch them rather than leave fifty thousand dollars for Gun to scoop up.
“Kid, grab the bedrolls and come help me, will ya?” Heyes broke into Curry’s reverie. He had a good idea what Heyes wanted with the bedrolls and untied them quickly. Kneeling next them in the snow he unfurled them and helped Heyes wrap her up snug. Heyes passed her over to Kid and helped him stand with her dead weight. He quickly mounted his horse and reached out his arms to take her from Curry. The Kid handed her up to him and watched in concern as Heyes got her situated across his lap.
Throughout the whole ordeal she did not let out a peep, Heyes and Curry’s eyes met and the silent acknowledgement that this was not a good sigh passed between them. Curry put his hand on Heyes’ leg to keep his attention. “Well, now that you got her up there, what are you going to do with her?” Kid wanted to know.
Heyes, thinking out loud said. “We’re too far away from any sort of town and I don’t think we could take her anyway, without knowin’ how she got up here and whose lookin’ for her.” He looked around as if the solution would magically appear. He sighed heavily. “The closest place is the Hole.”
“What!” The Kid exploded. “Have lost your mind? We can’t take a woman into the Hole again? Might I remind you that were one of your rules and you already broke it! I doubt Wheat and the boy’s will let you break it again?”
“I know, Kid.” Heyes was exasperated and a little desperate to be on the move. There was no telling if someone was looking for her and the snow would soon make movement next to impossible. “Iffen you’ve got a better idea, I’m all for it, but I think we’re fast out of options. Iffen we don’t get a move on we ain’t going make it to the Hole without getting buried out here ourselves.”
Curry nodded and stomped back to his horse. He turned his collar up and pushed his hat down to cut the wind. He knew Heyes was right. They couldn’t leave Gun to either freeze or bleed to death to in the snow but it didn’t mean he had to be happy about it. He mounted and picked up her horse’s reins to drag him along. As soon as she could travel, Kid wanted her gone and did not want not having a horse used as an excuse for her hanging around. He shook his head miserably. Why did it have to be her?
* * *
Four hours later they managed to find themselves at the Hole. Curry fired 3 shots into the air, to gain entry, and cursed under his breath as Heyes was already on the move, not waiting to be passed through. That was a very good way to get yourself shot.
“Well, looky who we got here? Kid! Hey, watchya got there, Heyes?” They both relaxed. Kyle Murtrey was on guard duty, a loyal friend if not the sharpest knife in the drawer. Heyes was in no mood for a lot of questions. His arms were all cramped up and he was losing feeling in them. He was afraid if he couldn’t put her down soon he’d drop her and that would probably finish her off.
“Can’t stop, Kyle.” Heyes shouted over his shoulder. “Got someone wounded here.” He glossed over the fact it was a woman and Gun Sonders to boot. This was going to be tricky, but, if they could get her to the cabins, maybe, if he was lucky, he’d have to tell them the story only once. “Is Preacher here?”
“Yep!” Kyle called after them. Heyes’ luck was holding. The Preacher was a notorious drunk and came and went as the wind blows but he was the closest thing they had to a doctor. He was knowledgeable, quick, gentle, and not the least bit squeamish. Heyes began to feel like he just might pull this off after all.
“Hang on, Jo.” He whispered in her ear. “I’ll get you fixed up. I won’t let anyone hurt you again. I promise.”
There wasn’t anyone outside the compound, nor did Heyes expect there to be with the snow forcing everyone inside. Heyes was grateful because it would give him a chance to think about how he was going to get her inside, and get her looked after, without causing a near riot. The Kid provided the solution in a way only he could. As Heyes carefully dismounted, his arms finally gave out. Curry was instantly at his side scooping up Gun before she hit the ground. Heyes hissed, in pain, as the circulation was restored and his arms dropped uselessly to his sides.
“Look, Heyes.” Curry blocked his way until he had Heyes’ full attention. “I know we don’t really have much choice but we’re walking into a hornets nest. I’ll get her inside and into the back bedroom. I’ll even get Preacher for you but after that I’m taking care of the horses and you’re on your own to explain to Wheat and the boys.”
Heyes had no choice but to agree. The situation was going to cause a rift with everyone and he knew he’d have to tread lightly to keep it from getting worse. He could already feel the distance in his cousin. In all of his life he never knew anyone to hold a grudge like the Kid. It was just a kiss for crying out loud. Okay, maybe it was being blindfolded, tied up and dragged over God’s half acre afterward, but Heyes was pretty sure it was still the kiss Gun planted on him. It was high time Kid got over it. He followed Curry into the cabin.
Kid kicked in the door. “Stand down, boys. It’s just me and Heyes.” Wheat, Lobo and four faces that Kid didn’t recognize jumped up from around a table in the main living area, papers flying everywhere and guns half drawn. Without stopping Kid blew past everyone and kicked in Wheat’s, and what used to be Heyes’, bedroom door and laid Gun down on the bed.
“Where’s Preacher?” Heyes’ asked.
“Now wait just one minute, Heyes.” Wheat blustered. “You don’t run things no more and you can’t keep just a’barreling in here and expectin’ to take over.”
“We’re not, Wheat” Curry explained wearily from the doorway, propping himself up with it. “We ran across somebody wounded and you were the closest, that’s all Wheat. No need to get proddy.” He repeated the question. “Where’s Preacher?”
“Bunkhouse.” Wheat was still feeling threatened. “Passed out. He’s been drinkin’ non-stop like since yesterday.”
Curry nodded acknowledgement and pinned Heyes’ down with a meaningful stare as they passed each other crossing the room. Heyes’ winced, as Kid slammed the door on his way out, but pointedly ignored the rest of the group as he walked into the bedroom.
Heyes began to gently unwrap the blankets. He silently cursed. His bedroll was soaked in blood and it would be best to throw it away because it could never be washed out. That meant she was still bleeding somewhere. He stripped her of her clothes and threw them in the same pile as his bedroll.
“That’s a woman.” Lobo exclaimed.
“That’s no woman, that’s Gun Sonders,” Wheat all but snarled.
So, she was a thorn in his side too. Heyes thought to himself. Wheat had enough problems trying step out of Heyes’ shadow without the added insult of competing for money and respect against a young female outlaw. If it wasn’t for the fact she was bleeding to death, here in front of them all, he’d laugh, but that wouldn’t gain him any allies and he’d need all he could get right now.
“Boys, I’m sure it will speed the lady’s recovery if she doesn’t wake up to find you all staring at her naked.” The Preacher’s voice called out from behind them. Heyes was relieved. Preacher at least sounded somewhat sober. Heyes could swear some of them were blushing at being caught peeking.
“Lobo, get me water and lots of it. Joe, we need more firewood. We need to keep this cabin as hot as we can stand it and I need water boiling. Bert isn’t it about time you relieved Kyle. I’ll need him to.” As Preacher listed what he needed, men tripped allover each other to fetch what was needed.
“I’m the leader and I give orders here.” Wheat had to yell over the clatter. Everyone stopped and looked at him.
Preacher just glared at him with his hands on his hips. “Well.”
Wheat nodded looking smug. “I think that’s a good idea. Do as he says boys.” He went back to the table to pick up the scattered papers.
“I parted them like Moses did the Red Sea.” Heyes and Preacher shared a small smile but then Preacher turned serious. “I’m gonna need your help, Heyes. You got the belly for it?”
Heyes swallowed, noisily, and nodded. In truth, he wasn’t too sure of himself, but he also knew Preacher couldn’t do it alone and he was the best choice at the moment. Lobo came staggering in with two buckets of water, one of them boiling, and clean cloths, to be used as bandages, under his arm. Preacher nodded his thanks and pointed by the bed. Lobo dropped them off and Heyes escorted him to the door. “We’ll let you know if we need anything else.” Heyes scooted Lobo out the door and shut it firmly behind him.
“Heyes, wash up good then I need you over on the far side of the bed.” Preacher directed and then waited for him as he did so. Heyes made quick work of it. He knelt down where he was directed and looked up at Preacher on what to do next.
“Take her hand and hold it tight.” As Heyes complied, Preacher placed his hand over both of theirs. He caught Heyes’ eye and quoted. “Wherefore comfort yourselves together, and edify one another, even as also ye do.” He bowed his head. “Lord, give me guidance and make my hand steady as we try to save the life of our dear sister in Christ. Amen.”
Heyes started, over Preacher saying sister, and looked sharply at him, but he had already moved on to the task at hand, not noticing Heyes’ temporary distress. “She’s wounded on the left side. Good. Makes thing easier. The verse is from First Thessalonians. Chapter 5; verse 11.” Preacher carefully and very gently washed the blood off Gun’s face. “She got a good chunk of hide missing here almost down to the bone.” His fingers probed around the wound. “Don’t feel no fractures. I reckon we’ll just keep it clean and let it heal. Her hair will cover most of any scar.” He looked over at Heyes. “Looks like you two will have matching scars.”
Heyes’ free hand moved unconsciously up to rub the now faint scar he had high on his head. A souvenir from bizarre murder plot involving everyone at a poker game he and Kid sat in on. He knew he was lucky to be alive from that escapade, only the Kid’s quick thinking and their friends, the Carlson’s, being close by saved his life.
He looked over at Gun’s face and sat up straight. He had never gotten a really good look at her before and what he saw both shocked him and cemented the feelings he had been harboring but not quite ready to put a name to. She couldn’t have been any older than seventeen, which meant when she was fourteen or fifteen when she planted that kiss on the Kid. He was angry before, but this was going to make him crazy.
Preacher’s dialogue had brought Heyes back around to the task at hand. He was examining her upper arm. “That verse comes from Paul’s letter to the Thessalonians. There’s no bullet. See here, Heyes. I’ma just gonna pour some of my whiskey on it to clean it out. Reach behind you and hand me a cloth will you?” Heyes complied and Preacher bound it up tightly. “We’ll have to watch this close like. I hate to have it get infected and we’d have to cut it off. Now, Heyes, don’t look so green. If we watch it, it’ll be fine.”
Preacher kept droning on. Heyes didn’t know if he was talking to reassure himself, Heyes, or Gun. She hadn’t moved a muscle and Heyes couldn’t stop staring at her face, bleakly thinking she was too young to be a wanted outlaw, and much too young to be dying. He didn’t start outlawing until he was eighteen or nineteen and the Kid was about the same age when he joined Heyes. They were old enough to know better. Gun shouldn’t be here. She should be on some front porch somewhere with her Daddy chasing off suitors with his shotgun. What had happened in her life that made her think this was the only choice she had?
“Heyes,” Preacher reached over and shook him. “I’ve got to get the bullet out of her leg. Don’t fall apart on me here. Roll up that bandana of yorn and stick it betwixed her teeth.” Heyes removed her hand from his and complied. “I need you to lay across her and hold her down. God willin’ she won’t stir.” Heyes stretched across her upper body while pinning her arms at her side. He nodded to Preacher he was ready.
Preacher poured whiskey up and down a long wicked looking knife and bent over her leg. As soon as he started probing, Gun started showing signs of life, moaning and thrashing around. “Hold her down,” Preacher barked. “I’ve almost got ‘er.” Heyes turned away and pressed himself down harder pressing her into mattress. “Got it! “Preacher yelled triumphantly. He then turned thoughtful, looking at the bullet. “Always surprises me how sumptin so small can cause so much damage.” He chucked the bullet in a pan, “He looked over at Heyes who was wiping her closed eyes and drying off her damp, pale, face. Preacher frowned. The bleeding was not slowing down even with a cloth pressed down on her wound. He reached around behind him again. The room had a wood-burning stove and he brought the poker, in case it was needed, otherwise she was going to bleed to death.
“Heyes.” Preacher said gently. “I can’t stop the bleeding. I need ya to lay across her again.” Heyes looked up in horror at the hot fireplace poker Preacher had in his hand. He tightly shut his eyes as he lay across her and fervently wished he could close his ears and shut off his nose and blot out what was coming next.
* * *
Kid trudged through the snow after looking after the horses. He would have to say one thing for Gun, she knew horses. The little gelding she was riding was already recovering from whatever ordeal they had been through. After being untacked, rubbed down and fed, he was feeling well enough to start a fight with Curry’s horse over imagined stealing of grain. “Like rider, like horse,” Kid grumbled to himself.
Stomping the snow off his boots, he entered the cabin. Wheat was pacing back and forth, pulling on his lip with that always irritated scowl on his face. Lobo was pouring a cup of coffee for the Kid. He took it, gratefully, having been chilled to the bone. As he looked around at the men sitting in the living room looking occasionally at the closed door, Kid had to swallow a smile. They all looked like a room of waiting expectant fathers. He suddenly sobered. There was nothing funny about a woman being shot to pieces.
He walked over to where Wheat was pacing but before he could say anything an inhuman scream filled the room. There was not a person there who didn’t know what just happened behind the closed door.
The door opened and a pale and shaken Heyes staggered out to prop himself up against the doorframe. He waved the Kid off, but eagerly accepted the coffee Lobo thrust into his hands. The man Preacher identified as Joe, vacated his chair and steered Heyes into it. He could feel every eye upon him and he’d have to pull himself together quickly.
Heyes gripped the cup with both hands to lessen his shaking, shutting his eyes, briefly, to try to shut out what he’d just seen. He mentally shook himself. It was time to use his famous silver tongue. “Wheat,” he began. “I owe you an apology” That had everybody’s attention. “I’ve put you in an awkward position and I hope I didn’t bring more trouble to your door. You’re right. I don’t run things here no more, and I had no right to barge in here, but we really didn’t have much of a choice and I was kinda hoping you’ll let us stay until she can travel.”
Wheat was gleeful that Heyes had all but humbled himself in front of his men.” You know I wouldn’t turn out nobody in trouble.”
“Glad to hear it, Wheat.” Preacher suddenly appeared at the door, wiping his hands with a rag. “It’s going to be rough, but, if she stays warm and don’t get any infection she might pulled through. But she gonna need close watchin’ iffen she’s gonna have a chance. Heyes, I think it best iffen we take turns.”
Wheat, now feeling that he’d bested Heyes, was feeling generous. “Tell ya what I’m gonna do. You boys go round up any extra bedding and we’ll fix up bedrolls for Heyes and Preacher. I’ll move into the other bedroom and Kid you can share that with me. Thata way, there’s always somebody gonna be in the house iffen you need anything’ How’s that suit?”
“That’s more than I expected and I really appreciate it. Thank you.” Heyes accepted gratefully.
Preacher spoke up.” Luke Chapter 6; verse 38. Give and it shall be given unto you, good measure, pressed down and shaken together, and running over, shall men give into your bosom. For with the same measure that ye mete withal it shall be measured to you again. Daylight’s aburnin’.”
Wheat feeling all pleased yelled. “You heard Preacher. Move it. We got a woman to save.”
continues.