Dec 19 (In the) Bleak Midwinter

Hello to all of you

This is the 144th challenge - that is right, one full gross of stories!!

A little seasonality for you …

Let your fertile brains and typing fingers think about;


(In the) Bleak Midwinter

Destiny's Cycle Chapter 20 arrives as In the Midwinter Bleak Challenge.

Laying his book across his chest, Hannibal Heyes laced his fingers behind his head, stretching out in his favorite chair. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the comfortable solitude of the empty leader’s cabin. Beyond the wood walls, he smiled at the trilling songs of birds chirping happily, thinking, ‘It is such a nice day for this late in December, I should go find something productive to do outside.’ Instead, he exhaled, rooting deeper in his favorite chair and crossing his ankles. “Maybe I will take a nap first.’

“Fire! Fire!”

Heyes exploded from the chair, his book flying from him to land in a crumpled pile on the floor. Bolting out the door, he charged down the cabin’s front steps. His eyes shot wide at the crackling, leaping flames emerging from the recently repaired, bunkhouse roof. ‘What the hell have they done now?’ Even as thoughts of wringing certain outlaw’s necks crossed his mind, he was already running to join the bucket brigade forming from the river.

In a frenzy of action, the Devil’s Hole Gang labored shoulder to shoulder passing buckets that sloshed them with frigid. Each bucket being tossed either on the licking flames or used to further wet sections of the building that had, as of yet, escaped destruction.

At length, the fire was extinguished, and the gang members, Heyes, included sunk to the ground gasping for air from their strenuous labors.

Taking several fortifying breaths, Heyes pushed himself up, noticing how bright red his hands were; he frowned, shoving them under his arms. “What happened?!”

The gang members looked from one to the other, each looking more confused and unsure as they did so.

Shaking his head, Heyes stomped forward, cautiously stepped over a fallen charred beam to stand in the smoking remains of the bunkhouse. It was warmer here, but he frowned deeply as he stared up at the brilliant cerulean blue sky above.

“Think it was the stove?”

Slanting an eye to Wheat Carlson who had joined him, Heyes dryly answered, “you think?”

“Now, Heyes, don’t be jumping out of the gate proddy, like that.”

Turning to face Wheat, Heyes’ tilted his head to the side, “How would you like me to jump out of the gate???”

“I understand that your irritated,” Wheat glanced back to the other soot smudged, starting to shiver, gang members, “but think how we all feel.”

Sighing, Heyes turned to look at his gang, ‘damn, but they look pathetic.’

“What we gonna do?” Kyle bleated, “when that sun goes down, its gonna get mighty cold.”

Realization of the true extent of this damage struck Heyes, and he lolled his head backward with a groan.

Lobo put in, “He is correct, Heyes.”

Several of the gang members peeked toward the Leader’s cabin, and Olly bumped into Kyle, whispering, “use your hook line.”

Nodding smartly, Kyle cleared his throat, warmly calling out, “surely, ya ain’t gonna make us all sleep out in the cold, Heyes, ‘cause what makes you such a great leader is you don’t make no one do what you wouldn’t do yourself.”

Running a hand back through his hair, Heyes shook his head, grinning a bit over at Kyle, “One day, that line isn’t going to work for you, Kyle.”

“Is it workin’ for me, well, for all of’n us today?”

“It is,” Heyes sighed. “Hank, John, Lobo get bedrolls from the barn and put in the cabin. Rest of you salvage what you can from this wreck.” As he moved to walk out, Heyes noticed Wheat was blocking his way. “Do something else for you?”

Wheat surreptitiously glanced about, “I just wanted to say thanks, Heyes, thanks for me and all the boys.”

“Well, you heard what Kyle said.” Heyes flashed a broad, flat smile with a shake of his head, he walked off.

It was hours after dark when Curry, Merkle, Hoyle, and Preacher rode up to the Hole, the Leader’s Cabin was lit up like dancehall, and they all sat on their horses out front staring while listening to the rowdiness emitting from inside.

Merkle shoved his hat back some, squinching and frowning, “Heyes decide to have a party while we were away?”

However, Curry's face wore a much deeper frown that was tinged with confusion, “appears that way?”

Sniffing the air, Hoyle asked, “you smell smoke?”

“Now that you mention it,” Curry responded, looking about, and not seeing any lights down where the bunkhouse stood.

“Guess we won’t know what’s up ‘til we put these cayuses up,” Merkle said, looking longingly toward the cheery golden light that could be seen about the edges of the cabin’s curtains. “Whatever is going on in there, sounds right pleasant after our cold ride up.”

Riding to the barn, they each kept looking toward the dark bunkhouse, thinking how odd it was for it to be shrouded in darkness.

Curry said, “that smoke smell is getting a lot stronger,” and turned his bay toward the bunkhouse, a firefly spark moved in the night, and Curry drew his pistol. As his gang mates began trailing after him, the snow-laden clouds drifted from the moon. Its bright light illuminating Hannibal Heyes smoking a cigarillo before the blackened, broken bunkhouse.

Hoyle blurted, “God Kiss Me, but what happened?”

Taking another draw on the cigarillo, Heyes turned about, “far as I can figure, the creosote was too thick on the inside of stove pipe.”

Holstering the Colt, Curry stepped down from his saddle, “all the gang..” he nodded toward the cabin.

“Yep, because what makes me such a great leader---”

“He USED that on you again.”

“Yeah, and I fell for it…again.”

Staring at their cabin, Curry plucked the cigarillo from Heyes’ fingers, taking a strong draw on it. When he released the smoke, it lingered about them coating his words, “all winter.”

“Least until we can get a new place built.”

Curry took another drag on the cigarillo, “all winter.”

Taking his smoke back, Heyes grinned over at his pal, “It's going to be a long, long bleak winter.”

“Hell, if it is, we won’t get a moment's peace.”

Heyes nodded, tossing the used up smoke into the rubble of the burnt building, “like I said a long, long bleak winter designed to try the nerves of even the calmest man.”

“That is more likely.”

Having ridden closer, Preacher beamed down on the leaders, “it won’t be that bleak, for even though the frosty wind moans, the earth is hard as iron, and snow shall fall tonight, you have offered from your heart to those who had none.” Having said this, he took a swig from his ever-present whiskey flask. “Your giving heart, both of your hearts which overflow with Christiane warmth, will keep the dark at bay.”

Nodding at them, Preacher spun his horse toward the barn, leaving the pair of outlaw leader’s staring after in astonishment until Curry shook himself free. “What was that?”

“Not sure, but I still believe…” Heyes flopped an arm over Curry’s shoulder, “despite giving hearts, our nerves are going to be tried beyond the Christiane warmth that supposedly fills them.”

“And, that I understand and will agree with.”

It was a cold midwinter night at Devil’s Hole. Christmas eve.

The previous days had been lazy and boring and everyone was looking forward to the party they would have tonight. Two of the boys made great effort to present a festive meal, Big Jim prepared one of his devilish chilis and preacher was working on his traditional punch which wouldn’t be appropriate for any church social but guaranteed a bloody miserable hangover for the day after, even more so since it would be topped up with extra whiskey that was one of its main ingredients.

Kyle had saved the day when he was lucky enough to shoot a turkey. It made for a more traditional Christmas dinner than usual and the boys would enjoy and appreciate the diversion from beans, biscuits and jerky.

Heyes’s guitar and Hank’s fiddle were tuned and handy. There would be singing and dancing, of course. That no womenfolk were present was woeful, but the boys would celebrate with even more exuberant joy and there would be no reason to fight. ‘No girls in Devil’s Hole’ was a fixed rule and saved them a lot of trouble in the end. The gang parties were always raucous and wild and getting into the Christmas spirit meant, for most of them, warming up early with friendly challenges, gambling and drinking.


The dinner had been a great success and as soon as the dishes and tables were shuffled aside, the dancing would start. Nobody would be able to hinder Wheat from presenting his own – unintentionally funny - version of the Christmas story and inevitable as well was the jig contest when the night wore on and booze worked its uninhibited magic.

Heyes had left and retreated a few strides from the bunkhouse. He leaned against the fence of the corral now, taking in fresh air in deep drags and looked up to the sky. No moon was to be seen, but it was a clear night and the dark fabric of the sky was freckled with countless stars. Heyes’s eyes were trained on the brightest among them, glowing like a candle in the darkness. His breathing deepened and moisture gathered in the corner of his eyes, certainly due to the biting cold. He blinked it away.

There would be no candle on the window sill tonight. Dang, he had no window sill at all! There was pretty much nothing he had accomplished by now. ‘Only two years,’ he had bragged, and expected to be wealthy and well positioned by then. A somebody, not a nobody anymore. Well, in some ways he was. Word was out that he had earned himself his first warrant - 100$, not very impressive - but his name was on the slate now. It was a new mark in his lifeline, a mark indicating the path he was developing on: a life of crime, outside the law, alone.

Hell, how had he come down to that bloody topic again? It was a night to celebrate! A strong curse rose to his lips but was left unspoken as his attention returned to the star above him which sparkled too brightly to be diminished by his profanity. It almost seemed its intensity increased with every beat. But why on earth was it so blurry now? A veil of clouds? Heyes blinked several times and his sight cleared again.

Where would he be tonight? Was he warm and safe? In good company?

Despite his bleak mood, a warm feeling spread inside Heyes.

The dark-brown eyes remained fixed on the star, not knowing about the bright-blue pair they met there, their owner hundreds of miles away searching, hoping and asking the same questions about his cousin.

A heavy hand dropped on Heyes’s shoulder and dragged his thoughts back into the present.

“Miles away, huh?” a dark voice with a heavy Mexican accent asked him.

Heyes just shrugged at first, then nodded.

Big Jim turned and leaned his shoulders against the fence beside him. “Who is it? A girl?”

The young man hesitated, but eventually answered, “My cousin.”

“He still alive?”

“Don’t know,” Heyes answered barely audible.

Now it was Big Jim who nodded. He tilted his head back and looked into the sky, too – or maybe a place beyond.

Eventually Heyes broke the silence. “Who is it?”

“My family.”

“Still alive?”

“No.” Big Jim sighted. “No, long gone.”

He paused for minutes before he continued, “Maria, my wife, and Lucia, my daughter. Beautiful as the day. Wiped out in a blink. Guerra Estados Unidos-México.”

They stood a moment longer in silence. Then Big Jim clapped the young man’s shoulder. “Come on in, Hannibal, or you’ll freeze your butt off. It’s about time.”

“Go ahead, I’ll be right there.”

Big Jim nodded and returned to the bunkhouse. When he entered, light and laughter spilled out into the darkness.

Maybe it was time...

Heyes gathered himself, squared his shoulders and pushed the uncomfortable thought to the back of his mind.

For sure it was time: time to return, time to be happy again, cheerful. It was up to him to lead the boys in everything: gambling, drinking, reveling. No time to dwell on dark thoughts and dark moods. He turned around, pasted a smile on his face and returned to his gang – the closest thing to family he had tonight.

He wasn’t known to be moody and he wouldn’t want to change a thing about it. So, he picked up his guitar started a scurrilous song and led the boys into a cheerful mood that didn’t quite reach his heart tonight ... yet the memory of the bright, glowing star placed a twinkle in his eyes.