Midnight Star

By RedZipBoots

The late December day had dawned in a blaze of sunshine; the sky a vivid blue, and the air cold and crisp.  However, as it drew to a close, a mist began to form casting an icy veil over the snow-covered valley floor below and obscuring the pale yellow hue of the winter sunset.

"We're not gonna find that town before nightfall, so I say we stop and make camp," Kid Curry announced to the man riding alongside him on the high country trail. 

Hannibal Heyes turned to his saddle-weary friend.  "I still say I had that map at the stage depot memorized just fine."

Before Curry could put into words exactly what he thought of the former outlaw leader's memory, they rounded a bend and he abruptly pulled his mount to a halt. 

"Hold up, Heyes.  There's a horse on the trail."

"I see him.  But I don't see a rider."

The animal ceased nuzzling at the frozen ground and whickered softly to the approaching horses. 

Twisting in his saddle Curry quickly surveyed their surroundings.  "Perfect spot for an ambush," he observed sourly while pulling his revolver to check the load.  Meanwhile, Heyes continued to peer through the gathering mist. 

"Hey, Kid, I think there's a body on the ground.  Wait here, I'll go look."  

Before the gunman could object, Heyes urged his mount forward.  It wouldn't do for them both to go bludgeoning in, and besides, he'd much rather have the Kid and his fully loaded six-gun watching his back.  His approach was still a cautious one, and after one more careful look around he dropped from his saddle to crouch beside the body of a man laying face down, a thin layer of powdery snow covering his back.  Heyes rolled him over to reveal a nasty gash on his forehead.

"Dead?" ventured Curry.

Opening the thick winter coat Heyes put an ear to the man's chest. 

"He's breathing."

Kid Curry walked his horse closer.  "Whaddya suppose happened?"

Frowning, Heyes surveyed the surrounding snow.  Apart from a blood-stained rock there didn't appear to be anything to see. 

"Could be sick, or maybe got thrown.  One thing's for sure: if he stays here much longer he's gonna freeze to death." 

"Well, that settles it — we'll make camp over there."  Curry indicated a snow-free patch of ground under a cluster of lodgepole pines.  "You check him over.  I'll get a fire started." 

While the Kid gathered firewood Heyes dragged the middle-aged stranger into the shelter of the trees.  Here he determined that there were no bullet or stab wounds, and the absence of bruises confirmed he hadn't been in a fistfight.  After applying iodine from his medical kit he carefully bandaged the head wound before covering the still unconscious man with their saddle blankets. 

Next he turned his attention to the patiently waiting horse.  Fearing it might be injured too, he bent down to pick up a hoof. 

At that moment a gentle breeze sprang out of nowhere, parting the mist, and allowing the last rays of the setting sun to reveal something partially buried in the snow.  Heyes stared at it, then with a shiver he picked it up and thrust it deep into his coat pocket.

Later that evening, beside a crackling campfire, Kid Curry helped himself to the last of the cooking pot's contents. 

"I swear, if I have to eat one more plate of beans..." he grumbled before shovelling yet another heaped forkful into his mouth.

Heyes regarded the gunman uneasily.  It had been his intention to reveal his find before supper, but he had been so busy scraping together a meal from the last of their supplies that it had completely slipped his mind.  He cleared his throat.

"Uh, Kid."

"Yeah?"  Despite his complaint Curry's attention didn't waver from his food. 

"I found something over by that fella's horse."

Assuming that his partner would keep talking Curry didn't bother to look up, but as the silence stretched tight he raised his eyes and almost choked. 

Heyes was holding up a tin star. 

Experiencing a sudden loss of appetite Kid Curry tossed the unfinished plate of beans onto the ground at his feet.  "We gotta get outta here."

"Not necessarily."

"Are you crazy?"

The corners of Heyes' mouth twitched.  "No more than usual."

"What do you suggest we do?"

"That depends."

"On what?" Curry sighed. 

"Whether he lives or dies.  If he dies we'll bury him, but if he wakes up and can remember where he's from, then I say we make sure he gets home safe."

Curry shook his head in disbelief.  "The cold must be dullin' my ears, Heyes, 'cause I swear I heard you say you wanna help a lawman."

The Kid's scepticism was deserved.  After all, Heyes did have a life-long aversion to getting involved in other people's problems.

Feeling he owed his partner an explanation Heyes said, "It being the season of goodwill an' all, I figure it would be downright immoral to up and leave him.  No matter who or what he is, he don't deserve to die out here all alone on Christmas Eve.  He could have a family at home, and—"

"Fine," snapped Curry, "but you'd better have a plan B, Heyes, 'cause I ain't spending Christmas in a jail cell, eatin' more beans."

ooooo-OOO-ooooo

Hannibal Heyes closed the book he was attempting to read by the flickering firelight, and yawning widely held out his cold hands toward the flames.  It was time for the Kid to take his turn on watch, but before he could rouse him there came a low moan from their unexpected guest and two bleary grey eyes slowly fluttered open. 

"Wha...?  Where...?"  The injured man struggled to sit up.

"Take it easy, mister."  Heyes leaned over and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.  "You've had an accident — cut your head real bad."

The man tentatively touched the makeshift bandage and grimaced.  "Wh-what happened?"

"You don't know?"

"Memory's... kinda... hazy."

"Could be your horse got spooked?"

"Could be..."

Disturbed by the sound of voices, on the other side of the campfire Kid Curry stirred within his bedroll.  This unexpected movement startled the befuddled man prompting him to make a grab for the gun Heyes had thought it wise to remove. 

"Whoa there!  That's my partner, Thaddeus Jones," Heyes said.  "And I'm Joshua Smith."

"I'm Frank.   Sheriff Franklin Midnight."

This was really the last thing Hannibal Heyes wanted confirmed, but still he summoned one of his winning smiles, along with his manners. 

"Good to make your acquaintance, Sheriff.  You thirsty?  I made some coffee."

"Water's fine, thanks."

"Wise choice," Kid Curry murmured from under his blanket.

Although extremely dizzy Frank managed to sit up and accept the proffered canteen.

Patiently, Heyes watched him swallow a few mouthfuls before enquiring, "You from around here?"

"Crofton, 'bout ten miles east."

"Is there a doctor there?  That wound is pretty bad."

"My wife is good at doctorin'.  She'll see to it."  Frank drew an unsteady hand across his face.  "I oughta try and get home.  She'll be worried if I don't make it back tonight."

Heyes consulted his pocket watch.  "Well, it's pretty late, and right now you're in no fit state to ride.  Tell you what we'll do... Tomorrow morning, if you can sit a horse, me and Thaddeus will ride along with you — make sure you don't fall off along the way.  How's that?"

"Are you headed that way?"

Heyes grinned.  "We are now."

"I'd really appreciate that, Mister Smith," said Frank who, despite blurry vision and the mother of all headaches, found himself studying the dark-haired, brown-eyed man with growing interest.

"Oh yeah, before I forget."  Heyes pulled the tin star from his pocket and casually tossed it into the man's lap.  "Found this in the snow over yonder.  Figure it belongs to you."

ooooo-OOO-ooooo

The journey through the pass and down into the valley beyond was a slow one, made all the more challenging by steadily falling snow.  For Frank, a welcome distraction from the inclement conditions, not to mention his pounding head, was Smith's engaging chatter, and whenever he was overcome by dizziness he found Jones' constant vigilance ensured he stayed safely in the saddle.  

Darkness had fallen by the time the three men reined their mounts to a halt beside an ice-covered horse trough in the small town of Crofton.  The main street was almost empty, most of the townsfolk having already hurried home to spend Christmas Eve in the warm embrace of their families.  A lamp shone in the window of an adjacent two storey building illuminating the sign above the door which read, Sheriff's Office and Jailhouse.

Jumping down from their saddles into almost knee-deep snow, Heyes and Curry helped their unsteady companion from his horse.  It was at that very moment that Sheriff Midnight arrived at the answer to a question he had been mulling over all day.

"I need you fellers to step inside," he announced, causing the two most wanted men in the West to flash each other a barely concealed look of alarm.

"M-much obliged sheriff, but we'd best be getting along.  Got to find us a room somewhere.  Not easy, uh... it bein' the holidays an' all," Heyes babbled, subtly edging toward his horse.  At the same time Curry took a couple of steps backwards, his right hand hovering dangerously close to his Colt .45.

"Won't take 'no' for an answer, boys.  You see I—" 

Before the sheriff could finish, the office door burst open and a whirlwind of red hair, green velvet, and white cotton petticoats careered into his arms, almost knocking him off his feet.

"Where have you been?  I was so frightened," the young woman cried.  Then, having spied the makeshift bandage peeking out from beneath Frank's hat she gasped, "You're hurt!"

"Now, darlin', don't take on," Frank soothed as he unwound her arms from his neck and gently turned her to face his companions.  "Judith, I'd like you to meet Joshua Smith and Thaddeus Jones.  These fellers patched me up real good."

Tears welled up in Judith's eyes.  "I can't thank you enough.  Please, let us pay you for your trouble."

Curry politely tipped his hat.  "That won't be necessary, ma'am."

"If you won't take a reward, at least join us for supper.  Better still, stay for the holidays!" enthused Judith.  

"I was about to suggest that myself."  The sheriff looked between the pair.  "Whaddya say, boys?"

Dubiously, Curry eyed the sign above the door.  "Don't think I've heard of a sheriff living in a jailhouse before," he said.

"We don't live in the jailhouse, Thaddeus — we live above it.  And Judith's right, you do deserve a reward of some kind.  A warm bed here, along with some good festive vittles will be better than any boarding house.  Besides," Frank called back over his shoulder as his wife ushered him inside, "I won't make it up the stairs without your help."

The West's two most wanted men lingered in the yellow lamplight, their eyes locked in silent discussion while they weighed up the promise of some much-needed home comforts against high-tailing it out of town into the freezing night.  Ultimately, it was a loud growl from the Kid's empty stomach which settled the matter, so they secured the horses to a nearby hitching rail and followed Frank and Judith inside.

As predicted, the injured man did require their assistance with the steep staircase, but once safely upstairs he sank gratefully into his favourite armchair alongside a warming fire.

Kid Curry looked around approvingly at the cosy living quarters and without thinking declared, "This sure beats a draughty old jail cell."

After throwing his partner a look of caution, Heyes smiled ingratiatingly. 

"What my friend means is... we'd be honoured to accept your invitation."

ooooo-OOO-ooooo

Two days later, a couple of hours before dawn, two shadowy figures crept silently down the narrow staircase.  Pausing briefly in the cold, empty sheriff's office they pulled on their boots before trudging across the street to the livery stable.  Luckily, the snow was not so deep as to make travel impossible so they saddled up, and counting on yet another heavy fall erasing the tracks they would inevitably leave behind, heeled their horses into a flat-out gallop,

"Y' know, Heyes, I've been thinkin'," Curry mused when they eventually slowed their winded mounts to a walk, "would it really have been so bad if we'd stayed one more day?"

Heyes chuckled at his contrary friend.  "First you don't want to go there, and now you don't want to leave."

"Well, how was I to know Frank had a wife — a mighty pretty one — who could cook that good?  We haven't eaten food like that in months."

"Good eats or not, Kid, we had to get outta there before he stopped believing the whole Smith and Jones story."

"Aaww, Frank wouldn't have arrested us," protested Curry.  "The man couldn't stand without help, so what are the odds he could shoot straight?" 

ooooo-OOO-ooooo

"Frank!"

Alarmed by his wife's cry, Sheriff Midnight grabbed his revolver, leaped out of bed, and lurched unsteadily along the narrow hallway.

"What's wrong?"

"It's Joshua and Thaddeus.  They've gone!"

His head spinning, Frank leaned heavily against the wall. 

"That don't surprise me."

"But I thought they were enjoying themselves," Julia pouted. 

"Oh they were; their kind don't often get to celebrate Christmas like regular folk."  Seeing a puzzled frown on Judith's pretty face, Frank added, "Darlin', we just spent the holidays with Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry."

"They were nice young men.  They can't be wanted!"

"Well, they are," Frank confirmed.  "Remember me tellin' you about the Goldburg bank robbery back in '79?  Well, I happened to get me a good look at the robbers as they lit outta town with thirty thousand dollars of honest folk's money.  It was them two.  No doubt about it."

Judith's eyes widened with shock.   "We welcomed outlaws into our home?  Why, we could have been murdered in our beds!"

"Those boys ain't killers." 

"But, it's your duty to arrest men like them." Judith gently fingered the bloodstained bandage around her husband's head.  "Or... at least try."

Frank nodded solemnly.  "It is.  And believe me, I thought about it, a lot.  But y' see, Heyes found my badge in the snow — it must've come loose when I fell of my horse — so he knew what I did for a livin' hours before I introduced myself.  He and Curry couldha left me out there to freeze to death if they'd had a mind to, but they didn't.  They saved my life."

Sighing deeply, Frank pulled his wife into his arms and held her close. 

"Darlin', comin' home to you was the best Christmas present I could ever wish for, and those boys risked being locked up for twenty years to make it happen. 

"I figure their freedom for my life is a pretty good deal, don't you?"