June 22 Jubilee

Hello, here I am late again ...

Well, today and tomorrow are Bank Holidays over the Herring Pond here in the old country.
Bunting is a hanging and I am off to a nice garden party on Saturday taking a Trifle and a Nice 'Twenty Photos of the Queen - what's the date? Quiz'

So, I think there can be only one topic for June's challenge

Have a think about

JUBILEE

(I do know US States and Towns celebrate Jubilees too, so ... there is scope )

Feel free to ignore as this is posted elsewhere!

"I think you're cheating, it ain't natural how much you're winning.”

The Kid sighed as the very bad poker player seated to Heyes' left, stood angrily to confront him. This just wasn't fair, he'd been enjoying Bairstow and was still tired enough that another day of sleeping in a bed rather than out on hard ground, would have been very welcome. Maybe they'd be in luck, and this could be settled easily without causing them too much trouble.

Putting down his beer, the Kid pushed himself away from the bar to stand behind and to the right of his partner, his hand hovering round his gun, and realised as he got a better look at the man's face, that there was no way he would avoid having to draw. Before Heyes could even open his mouth and attempt to talk the man down, the yahoo went for his weapon.

There was a collective gasp from the other players and those now watching the drama unfold, when the Kid's colt had already cleared leather and was aimed straight at the man, before the idiot's gun was even fully in his hand.

From amongst the watchers, the Kid heard a muttered. “I thought I recognized those guys, it's Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry!”

“You're right, I recognise them now too. They robbed a train I were a passenger on.”

When a second voice chimed in to support the first, the Kid’s heart sank. Here we go again.

Heyes with a glance back at him and a small shrug, quickly gathered his winnings and together they ran out of town and didn't stop until they were a few miles away and up in the mountains, where they could see whatever was coming at them.

They lay safely hidden, with aching feet and likely blistered heels, watching as the quickly formed, but fortunately disorganised and ineffective posse, headed back towards town. The Kid glanced over at Heyes with a smile when as the riders faded from view, he heard a distant train whistle.

Heyes grinned back at him and started to stand. “I think that train is going our way, Kid.”

XXX

The Kid hanging precariously to the boxcar behind his partner, gasped, trying to breathe round the dust in his lungs, ignoring the ache in his arms, wincing as small stones flung up from the dusty ground stung his cheeks. With a sigh of relief, he managed to pull himself in after Heyes, who had finally managed to get enough purchase to swing inside. He landed awkwardly and stifled a groan when something twinged and clicked as he hit the filthy hay strewn floor. Damn he was getting too old for this.

The Kid shifted for the umpteenth time as the pain in his back and legs made it impossible to get comfortable awake, never mind settle enough to sleep. He stood carefully and hobbled to the other side of the car to try and relieve his discomfort disturbing Heyes who glared at him. “What is it with you, Kid? You ain't bin still for more than two minutes and I'm trying to sleep here!”

Kid turned to glare at him, the burning throb in his legs making his tone sharp. “I pulled my back all right?”

“Well, guess now you're close on thirty, it ain't just your draw that's slowing down.”

The Kid expecting that exact comment or some variation of it, simply rolled his eyes and sat down carefully, putting his hat over his eyes as he said. “I ain't in the mood Heyes, if you've got nothing helpful to say, just go back to sleep and I'll try to groan quietly.”

Fifteen minutes later the Kid shifted again, unable to get in a position that didn't aggravate the throb and stood, shuffling round as quietly as he could, but he still managed to wake his partner who opened his eyes and eyed him with an almost sympathetic expression on his face. “Hopefully in the next town, there won't be no trouble and you can rest up.”

XXX

The train's first stop was Jubilee Springs and with a quick look round to check that they were unobserved, Heyes jumped down from the boxcar and then offered an arm to his friend. When the Kid accepted the help without a murmur, Heyes knew he must be in a lot of pain.

They were just walking slowly towards the hotel when he spotted the sheriff heading in their direction. Heyes squinted and then clicked his teeth quietly as he realised that he recognised him from another town. He really wished lawmen would stay in one place, it would make their life a lot easier. With a sigh, he yanked Kid out of sight behind the nearest building, eliciting a groan and causing his friend to stumble slightly and snap. “What did you do that for, Heyes? Ain't like I'm not in enough pain already.”

“Well. You'd be in a lot more pain if we'd got ourselves arrested by the sheriff we just avoided.”

Heyes watched his friend wince and saw the crease in his forehead deepen even further as the words penetrated. “How'd you figure he knows us? I didn't recognise his name and we ain't never even been close to here before!”

“He was a deputy down in Graystone...I remember him getting a real good look at us while we was robbing their bank.”

The Kid humphed and rubbed a weary arm across his forehead as he leant against the livery wall. “I sure wish lawmen would stay put, it don't seem fair that they keep moving!”

“I know what you mean, Kid, it makes it real hard to avoid 'em.”

The Kid sighed. “Guess we oughta leave this town quick. I hope we got enough for a couple of horses, seeing as there ain't no train outta here till tomorrow, and I don't fancy hanging round...”

“You up to riding, Kid?”

Kid smiled tiredly and shrugged. “Like you told me, you worry about staying on your horse and I'll worry about staying on mine.”

“There ain't no need to get proddy, Kid. I was just asking.”

“Well, it ain't as if we got much choice one way or the other. Might be better than riding a stage, leastwise I got some control and it's easier to avoid getting robbed.”

XXX

The Kid hung onto his saddle horn with a grim concentration, knowing it was the only thing keeping him from sliding off the horse, but he was determined not to give in to the pain, or admit he couldn’t go any further. He wanted a soft bed, not hard ground to sleep on tonight. He was a long way behind his partner, having to stop frequently, unable to stand riding more than a few steps at a time. Heyes kept glancing behind him and finally brought his own mount to a halt, waiting with unconcealed impatience for Kid to catch up.

“This is stupid, Kid. We ain't getting anywhere at this speed.”

“Well, what do you want me to do about it?” The Kid almost shouted, before he paused and swallowed hard, as a shooting pain reminded him why raising his voice was a bad idea and said less loudly. “If it's bothering you that much ride on ahead and I'll catch ya up.” Eventually, like tomorrow, he added silently.

Heyes blew out a heavy breath, obviously irritated and shook his head. “That ain't what I'm meaning. Why don't we call it quits for the day? I got some laudanum in my saddlebags, and we'll be good and safe out here, so it won't matter if you sleep heavy.”

Kid sighed, considered arguing, then reluctantly nodded in agreement. The soft bed would have to wait. Heyes glanced at him and then rode off a short distance looking for a good place to camp. Kid took a deep breath and attempted to get off his horse, thinking walking might be easier. After a couple of tries, he realised the only way he was getting down was by embarrassing himself by hitting the ground with his face. As Heyes came back to him, obviously wondering why he hadn’t followed, he said a little breathlessly. “I can't get off my horse, Heyes.”

Heyes grumbled and dismounted, muttering under his breath about mulish partners, who ain't got no sense, but his hands were gentle as he eased Kid down and steadied him. “Now there’s a real good spot just over there, so you stay put against that rock, before ya fall over and I'll get us set up.”

Kid too sore and weary to pretend he was fit to do otherwise, leant against the rock Heyes had waved at and watched his friend pottering round. Once there was a fire blazing and the horses were settled, Heyes rifled in his saddlebags, before turning round to look at him, a bottle in hand. “I'm just gonna go shoot us something to eat.” He tossed Kid the bottle, which he caught awkwardly and eyed in some suspicion. Heyes gave him a cheerful wave as he walked off to hunt them down some food, leaving Kid to glare at the bottle he was now holding. After a few minutes of hesitation, the Kid opened it, and took a hefty swallow.

By the time Heyes returned, holding what looked like two rabbits, he was already seated on the floor against the rock he'd been leaning on, feeling less uncomfortable and floating in a slight haze. He started a little when Heyes loomed over him, not sure how he’d not been aware of him walking over. “There's a hot spring down yonder, spills into a lovely pool of water Kid. I figure in the morning you should give it a try, might ease your back some.”

Kid feeling mellow enough that he was agreeable to anything, nodded and as his eyes started to drift shut, Heyes chuckled and spoke softly. “Guess you ain't wanting supper.”

The last things Kid felt and heard, before his awareness faded completely, were a blanket being thrown over him and a gentle. “Sleep well, Kid.”

He woke to bright sun and a blinding headache, that was still better than the pain of the last two days. Heyes already up and preparing breakfast, looked over at him with a smile. “Don’t know if you remember me telling you, but there’s a hot spring down aways. I figure after we’ve eaten you can go take a dip in the pool it drains into.”

XXX

With Heyes watching out for any company, Kid stripped down carefully, enjoying the early afternoon sun on his exposed skin. He slipped down into the wonderfully warm water and moaned in sheer pleasure as the throb in his back and legs eased. Eventually as he squinted at a now slightly restless Heyes, he stood up, splashing the water onto his skin as he realised that he could now move with much more ease. Calling over to his partner he said. “Ya know, Heyes you oughta take a dip. Can’t see no one finding us out here.”
Heyes hesitated, took a final glance around him, before he too stripped down and joined his partner in the warm pool sinking down, with a deep comfortable sigh.

The Kid feeling relaxed and content, playfully splashed him, laughing at Heyes’ expression and poor attempts to return fire, before he too lay back down into the water. After a few more minutes, the Kid clambered out leaving Heyes to his relaxation. He dried himself and dressed slowly, taking a deep breath as he enjoyed the quiet around him and settled down to clean his gun.

Preacher’s Lost Joy
June 2022 Challenge Jubilee

Sequel to my story:  The Making of a Preacher - Preacher’s Train

They had ridden in silence the entire day into the lower mountains of Wyoming.  Heyes loved this country’s wild untamed beauty, its natural untouched elegance and stunning vistas.  Still, he respected its unpredictable, often tempestuous weather.  Further up and to the right thunder rolled.  Casting a glance at the Kid riding silently beside him, he saw a shrug of shoulders and a nod of his head toward the man and horse they were following.  

Even though he had been drinking for days, Preacher sat tall in his saddle and set a brisk pace, riding with purpose.  Heyes and Curry had found him two days earlier drinking in the Hammered Eagle Saloon.  Sitting at a back table, only raising his head to pour more whiskey into his glass, the partners had almost overlooked him.  

“Heyes.”  Curry nudged his partner’s shoulder, almost spilling his drink.  “Think that’s Preacher.”

Annoyed but curious, Heyes put his empty glass on the bar and studied the man Curry had indicated.  “Yup, that’s Preacher.  Looks like he’s in rough shape.  Let’s see if we can get him out of here and back to the hotel.”

Walking over to the back table, the cousins took the seats on either side of the man with his head resting on the table.  Heyes moved the half-filled whiskey bottle to the far side of the table.

Curry put his hand on Preacher’s back.  “Hiya, Preacher, good to see you.”

Without lifting his head, Preacher turned to look at the man next to him.  In a second, recognition set in.  “Kid,” he said with a drunken smile gracing his face.  “Just who I needed to see.  Heyes with you?”

“Right here, Preacher.”  Heyes saw the dizziness when his friend’s head turned to see him.  “How about you come back to our room, and we’ll catch up.”

“No, got something they need me to do.  Be pleased if you two would ride with me tomorrow,” he said earnestly.

As Heyes picked up the bottle from the table, Curry slid his arm under Preacher’s shoulder and helped him stand up.  “Now, Preacher, you know we’re goin’ for that amnesty.  We don’t do anything the least bit illegal anymore.” said Curry.

Preacher pulled out of Curry’s grasp.  “Who do you think I am, boys?”  Preacher sounded offended and looked hurt.  “You two are my friends, more family.”  He fell backwards into Curry who caught him, supporting him once again.  “Wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.  Just gotta go somewhere important and I’d like your company.”

Heyes unlocked the door to their room and Curry helped Preacher to the far bed. Slumping over to try and take off his boots, Preacher mumbled, “Gotta leave tomorrow morning so I’ll be there on time.  Wouldn't do to be late.  Joannie wouldn’t like that.”

ASJ*****ASJ*****ASJ*****ASJ*****ASJ

Sleeping in the chair by the window so Preacher could have his bed, Heyes woke at first light.  Preacher’s soft snoring was only broken by his muttering, “Thy will be done.  Why?  Why?  Why is thy will so harsh?”

In the other bed, Curry lay on his back, sleeping deeply so Heyes slipped out of the room and went downstairs for a cup of coffee.  When he returned, bringing coffee for his roommates, he found Preacher sitting on the side of his bed and Curry shaving.

“He says we need to leave within the hour if we are goin’ to get THERE on time,” Curry said to the mirror image of his partner.  “Better give both cups of coffee to him; he’s goin’ to need them.”

ASJ*****ASJ*****ASJ*****ASJ*****ASJ

Preacher hadn’t said a word, just led them toward the low mountains.  Lightning flashed and again thunder roared.  Preacher looked up this time and pulled his battered black hat down tighter on his head in anticipation of wind and rain.  Still, he showed no sign of stopping and the partners saw nothing but wild nature ahead of them.

Climbing, they followed a wide, gentle curve to the left and buildings came into view in the distance.  An hour later, Preacher stopped in front of an ornate carved city sign with chiseled mountains in the background and the scripted words Welcome to Miner’s Delight population 1,000.  Untended, weeds had grown up around the sign to cover the last line.  Preacher dismounted.  Angrily, he yanked the offending weeds and wildflowers from the ground with force until the signpost stood alone.  “Townspeople used to take pride in that sign,” was all he said by way of explanation.

Alert now, Preacher studied each boarded up building they passed, mumbling what Heyes thought sounded like prayers.  It seemed a ghost town to Heyes, and he pointed to the wind battered ‘Sheriff Noah Svengard’ sign swinging by one last rusting nail out to Curry.  

Preacher stopped in front of the Fortune’s Gift saloon, tying his horse to the hitching post.  It looked to be the only still inhabited establishment on the street.  With a moment of hesitation, Preacher led them through the batwing doors and headed to the bar.  Heyes followed him while Curry stepped to the right of the doors and surveyed the room.  A small poker game was taking place in the center of the room.  Four patrons, looking as old and battered as the town, leaned on the bar.  Seeing no threats, Curry joined his companions at the bar just as the bartender approached Preacher.

“Reverend Johnson!” he exclaimed, reaching over the wooden bar to hit Preacher on the arm.  “Thought you might be coming around soon.”

“Brian, how are you?”  Preacher’s voice was sincere, caring with a tinge of long held grief.

Putting three glasses on the bar and pouring from the ‘good’ whiskey bottle hidden under the bar, Brian answered, “Drinks on the house, Reverend.  Doing as well as can be expected.  Not many locals left around here since the mines closed.  Good to see you, again.  I’ve been taking care of them for you.”

Preacher looked the bartender in the eyes, “I thank you for that.  May God bless you,” he said softly.

“Joannie’s flowers by the house are in bloom.”

Heyes watched a small smile escape Preacher’s control.  

Preacher turned to Heyes and Curry.  “Got to go out back for a minute.  Then we can leave.”

When he had left, Heyes asked the bartender, “Looks like this was a nice town.  People left when the mine closed?”

Brian shook his head, “No, mines closed because there was no one left to work them.  Measles swept  through here like a January wind.”

Preacher’s reappearance stopped the bartender from saying any more.  He reached out and shook Brian’s hand and placed his left hand over the handshake.  “Thank you, again.”

“Nice to have met you.”  Curry hurriedly touched the brim of his hat as he trailed after the striding Preacher.

Riding again, Preacher lapsed into his dark silence.  In less than half an hour of climbing, Heyes saw a house with a flower garden gracing the front yard.

“Wait here,” Preacher said as he dismounted and gathered a big handful of daisies.  “Almost there,” he added as they again started climbing on what looked like a defined but seldom used trail.

Under the branches of a magnificent tree, Preacher stopped and removed his hat.  Following his lead, the cousins removed their hats and walked the few steps to stand next to their friend.  “Ten years.  I can’t believe it’s been ten years since I held them.”  His voice was soft, solemn.

Heyes read the names on the gray weathered tombstone with the date exactly ten years earlier.

“Here lies Joannie Collins Johnson, beloved wife and mother.”  Underneath in smaller but ornate lettering it said, “Jubilee Joan Johnson, beloved daughter of Josiah and Joannie.  One year old.”

Curry wiped the unbidden tears from his eyes as Preacher knelt at the graves of his wife and daughter.  He had never talked of his past; never talked of the sorrows he carried.  

Heyes knelt next to him and was digging a small hole for the daisy bouquet while trying to let Preacher grieve privately.  Then he stood silently next to Curry wishing he knew how to pray for his melancholy friend.  

Finally, Preacher stood up.  He shook each of their hands but spoke only through his eyes.  

Walking to the horses, they mounted quickly.  Preacher turned to his friends.  “Thanks for coming, boys.  That house back there is mine.  We can spend the night there.  Ain’t got much food but there’s plenty of whiskey.”

“Not too many ghosts?” Heyes asked.

Preacher gave them a thoughtful smile.  “No, no ghosts.  Did you know Jubilee is a girl's name in Hebrew?  Means joy.  That house is filled with the joy she brought to her ma and me in the short time we had her.  How could I help but be blessed with loving dreams in that house?”