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At breakfast the next morning, Christy explained to Cody everything that had happened the night before. He spooned more creamy gravy onto the six biscuits on his plate and tried to hide his aggravation. He noticed her red eyes and puffy cheeks caused from a night’s worth of crying. “It’s probably a good thing he’s gone. I could have pounded his face for hitting you last night.” Cody muttered darkly. Christy patted his hand to calm him. “We worked it out, Billy. He didn’t mean to hurt me.” When they were finished, she excused herself, explaining she wanted to visit Kid’s grave alone for awhile. They made plans to leave later that day, after the sun’s blistering rays had eased some. Cody ambled down to the docks to watch the riverboats again while Christy was at the cemetery. The shaded graveyard was somewhat cool and still wet from the rain the night before. Christy found Kid’s marker again quickly and squatted in front of it. She was puzzled to see that some fresh flowers had replaced the daisies from yesterday. Who could be leaving them? Was it the person who had buried him? There were so many questions about Kid’s last days for which she didn’t have any answers. “Did someone take care of you, Kid?” She whispered. “Did you at least have someone to hold your hand before you died?” Twigs snapped behind her and she spun around. Seeing nothing she called out. “Who’s there?” The twittering of birds was the only sound. Frowning, Christy stood and eased toward the wooded area behind the graves. She was just in time to see a flash of movement to her right. “Hey!” She yelled. “Wait!” Not sure why, but feeling she had to know who had been watching her, Christy took off in pursuit. She crashed through trees and bushes, scratching her arms on the briars that stuck out in her path. In front of her, she could make out the figure of a man clawing his way through the underbrush. “Stop, please!” She shouted breathlessly. “Do you know Kid?” Ahead, the trees spread out into a clearing. If she didn’t catch up to the man now, she was sure to lose him. Summoning her courage, she leapt forward in an attempt to tackle the man. She missed by inches, landing on her ankle. She cried out in pain as she felt it twist at an ugly angle beneath her. The man stopped, hesitating. His back was to her; all she could see was tufts of graying brown hair sticking out in wild curls from under a wide brimmed straw hat. His chest heaved with the effort of his running. Christy leaned over her ankle, touching it gingerly. She gritted her teeth in agony. She wasn’t sure, but it looked like she had a broken bone or two. She was in a fine mess now. Stuck in the middle of the woods with a stranger to whom she had just given chase. Cody wouldn’t even know where to start looking for her. “You alright?” A voice asked her gruffly, causing her to look up. She gasped. The man looked down at her, his brown eyes creased with worry. Her gaze automatically sought his neck, knowing what she would see before she even found it. Sure enough, the long jagged scar, earned in a freak accident with a saw, snaked down his neck and disappeared beneath his tattered blue shirt. “Uncle Thomas?” She whispered. He bent down next to her to examine her ankle. She stared at him, amazed. It had been ten years since she had seen him, yet he had changed little. His hair, which Kid had inherited, was a little longer and his hands shook a little as he tenderly prodded her injury. Otherwise, he was just the same. Christy pulled away from him and tried to stand. She winced as pain jagged its way up her leg and decided to sit back down again. “What are you doing here?” “I could ask the same of you.” Thomas replied calmly. He moved to lift her in his arms. “Let’s get you to a doc.” “No!” She struggled against him. “Put me down! I don’t need your help.” “Oh, really?” He asked as he began to walk toward town, still carrying her. “How do you figure? You can’t even walk.” “Cody will find me. I don’t need you. Go away!” She fairly shouted. Ignoring her protests, he continued his way down the steep hill. After fighting him a minute more, Christy soon became still. Her ankle throbbed and any kind of movement intensified it. They didn’t speak, even though Christy was dying of curiosity to know why Uncle Thomas was here. It didn’t take long to travel the short distance to the doctor’s small, wooden building. Thomas kicked the door open and strode inside. The doctor hurried from his office in the back, took one look at them, then led them to a small bed in the middle of the room. “What happened?” The doctor asked, peering over the rim of his glasses. “She slipped and fell. Twisted her ankle, I’m afraid she may have broken it.” Thomas answered. The doctor felt of her swelling leg causing Christy to yelp. “Let’s get you something for the pain, shall we?” He went to a cabinet and removed a brown glass bottle filled with a golden liquid. He measured out a large amount in a tin cup and brought it to her. She drank it cautiously, almost gagging at the horrible taste. “What is this?” She frowned. The doctor grinned. “She must not drink much. It’s whiskey, Miss. I’ve found in my profession, it cures most anything, and if you drink enough of it, you’ll forget all about that ankle. I’ll warn you, if you don’t drink much, the best thing would be to just go ahead and knock it back.” Suspiciously she studied him to see if he was teasing. He gave her a slight nod to show he was serious. Slowly she raised the cup to her mouth, squeezed her eyes shut and gulped the rest of the burning liquid. “Yeeeck.” She shuddered. Soon she was amazed to find that the pain in her leg had indeed softened, along with the rest of the world. She sighed heavily, suddenly feeling a deep need to sleep. She leaned back on the bed and stared up at the white ceiling. “That’s some pretty potent stuff, Doc.” Thomas whistled, surprised at how fast she had reacted. He winked. “Well, it’s homemade and a little stronger than normal. Plus, it helps that she doesn’t imbibe regularly like most of my customers.” “Uncle Thomas.” Christy mumbled weakly. He went to her side and leaned close to hear her whispered words. “What?” “Kid-he’s dead. Did you know?” She fought to focus. “You just go to sleep now.” He said softly. “We’ll talk later.” Christy awoke several hours later with a tight headache. Slowly pieces of what had happened came back to her. Remembering Uncle Thomas, she shot up in the small bed where the doctor had left her. The only other person in the room was Cody. “Billy, where is Uncle Thomas?” She cried. Cody looked dumbfounded. “Who?” “Uncle Thomas…He brought me here. He was watching me in the graveyard and I chased him. That’s how I hurt myself, I slipped and fell. He’s the one who brought me here.” She tried to explain quickly. “But where is he now? And how did you know I was here?” “What does this uncle of yours look like?” Cody wanted to know. “Tall, kind of skinny, brown hair, he has a scar down the side of his neck. Why?” “He’s the one who told me you were hurt.” He replied. “I was walking back to the hotel and this man came up to me and asked if I knew you, then he told me you were here. I was so worried I didn’t think to ask how he knew.” “But where is he now?” She demanded. Cody shrugged. “Don’t know. I haven’t seen him since.” “What is he doing here?” Christy mumbled half to herself. “You mean that fella was Kid’s pa?” He whistled. “I knew he looked familiar but I never would have guessed that! Reckon how he knew I was with you?” “He was watching us yesterday at the cemetery. I told Jimmy I thought I saw something but it was fixing to storm and I was in such a hurry to get back to the hotel, that I dismissed it.” She was still for a second, thinking. “Billy, we have to find him.” “Why?” He looked incredulous. “Didn’t you say he was mean to you and Kid? Why would you want to see him?” “Don’t you see?” She asked impatiently. “He was here-when Kid died. Maybe he’s the one who buried Kid; maybe he spent time with him before…. Billy, don’t you see why I have to find him? He may know what happened. Uncle Thomas may be able to fill in some of the missing blanks about Kid.” Cody sighed. “Alright. If it means that much to you, I’ll ask around and see what I can find out.” She reached for him and gave him a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you. For everything…for coming with me, for not thinking I’m insane.” “Oh, I think you’re insane.” He laughed. “But I love ya anyway. Now, let’s get you back to the hotel. You can rest while I try to dig up some information.” After paying the doctor for his services, Cody gallantly swept Christy up in his arms and gently carried her down the street to the hotel. Placing her on the ivory coverlet of her bed, he made her promise not to move until he got back. Wearily, she agreed and sank back in the pillows, nervously awaiting his return. Minutes ticked by like hours. There was only so much one could do while confined to a bed and Christy quickly exhausted those options. Just when she was about to try her chances hobbling down the stairs, Christy heard a soft knocking at her door. “Come in!” She yelled. There was only silence, then another knock. “You can come in, Billy! I’m decent!” She tried again. The doorknob squeaked as it turned. Christy watched expectantly as the door swung open. Then she jumped with surprise. “Uncle Thomas!” She exclaimed. “How did you know where to find me? I sent Billy to look for you.” “I followed you.” He stated simply. “I want you to come with me. I need to show you something.” She looked down at her ankle pointedly. “Well, I would, but I can’t exactly walk too well right now.” “I’ll carry you. I’ve got a wagon out front.” He offered. “But what about Billy? He won’t know where I am.” “We won’t be gone long.” Uncle Thomas insisted. Her eyes were skeptical. “I don’t know…” “It’s about Kid.” A moment’s hesitation followed. “Alright, let’s go.” He loaded her into the wagon seat and they set out. They rode for what seemed like eternity. Christy grew more nervous with every passing minute. She knew if Cody made it back to the hotel room before she did that he would be furious. “How much farther? I thought this wouldn’t take long.” Her voice held a note of irritation. “We’re almost there.” He answered quietly as he left the main road and guided the wagon down a faint path that was barely visible in the tall grass. They traveled about another mile before Christy saw the log cabin. The roughly hewn cabin had a ramshackle appearance and was surrounded by dense forest. A small garden grew in the only spot free of trees. She stepped down cautiously from the wagon seat and followed Uncle Thomas. An old mangy black and tan dog lay on the steps, snoozing in the sun. It raised its head and bared its teeth at Christy as she passed. She hurried after her uncle, who had just opened the front door. She stepped inside and glanced around. The front room was dirty and small. Newspapers and dime novels littered the floor and were stacked in huge piles against the wall. The only furniture was a tired looking horsehair sofa that at one time may have been maroon, but was now a faded brown. Christy could make out at least two more adjoining rooms in the dim light. Uncomfortable, she crossed her arms. She realized suddenly that she wasn’t in a very good position. She had gone willingly with an uncle who at one time had been physically abusive to a place in the middle of nowhere without telling anyone. She wished she had thought to at least leave Cody a note. “What did you want to show me, Uncle Thomas?” She asked shakily. “Is this where you live?” He nodded silently. “What does this have to do with Kid? Was he here?” Another nod. His eyes seemed to bore into hers. She felt a flash of fear that she hid with impatience. “Well? What happened?” Before her stood the one person who could answer all her questions, yet he only stared at her mutely. A groaning noise came from the back of the house causing her head to whip around. “What was that?” “Why don’t you go find out?” His voice held a curious quality. The thought came unbidden to her mind that perhaps her uncle was crazy. His behavior was certainly strange. The gleam in his brown eyes was almost… The noise interrupted her musing. What exactly was that, she wondered? It sounded animal like and mournful. Uncle Thomas gestured toward the far room. “Go on. It won’t bite, I promise.” Warily, she picked her way over the paper debris, her gaze never leaving his. She went through a room that was evidently a make shift kitchen. An iron stove stood in one corner and a small table with one chair was in another. She shivered as a large rat looked up at her with beady eyes from his place on top of the table. The rat was nibbling a piece of moldy bread, apparently unconcerned about her presence. She continued farther back, to where a ragged wooden door separated the kitchen from the next room. She paused with her hand on the knob as the horrid groaning emitted again. Something deep within her told her not to do it, not to open that door. Summoning her courage, she ignored it. Taking a deep breath, she flung it open. It took a minute for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. There was only one window in the tiny room and it was covered with a heavy quilt. She could make out a long object in front of her, evidently a bed. Another eon seemed to pass before she could finally see the outline of a shape in the bed. “Here? Need some light?” A voice whispered in her ear. Christy gave an involuntary little gasp. Uncle Thomas had walked up quietly behind her. He was holding a lantern outstretched to her like a peace offering. Gingerly, she accepted it and eased further into the room. Holding the wavering light over the bed, she looked down. She saw the shape, the shape of a man, a man she knew… The scream started low in her throat before working its way out. Louder and louder it climbed until the room seemed to reverberate with it. Behind her, Uncle Thomas clapped his hands to his ears. The man on the bed moaned along with her scream, as if they were joined in some odd duet. When she ran out of air, the screaming stopped, but she still exhaled with a loud wheezing sound. When at last she was forced to breathe in, she clamped her mouth shut, eyes wide and bulging, before pitching forward onto the bed, her world engulfed in blackness.
Chapter Ten
In her dream, Christy was wearing a billowing white nightgown. She was riding Katy and although she wasn’t sure why she was riding Katy bareback in her nightclothes, the sensation was enjoyable. A dense fog hung in the air, making it impossible to see more than ten feet in front of her. However, Christy was unafraid. Katy galloped into the grayness without hesitation while Christy held onto her coarse mane.She peered ahead into the thickness of the fog and suddenly she laughed. Standing directly in front of her was Kid. He smiled at the sight of her and Katy, his hands reaching out to embrace her. She realized what was going to happen and she tried to yell. Her lips mouthed the words “Move, Kid!” But no sound came out. Why didn’t he move? Katy would run right over him. “Kid!” She tried again, to no avail. He simply stood there, waiting, the familiar smile lighting his face. Closer, closer…Any second now, Katy would be upon him… “Kiiiiiiiiiiiddd!” Christy screamed, sitting straight up in the bed. “Christy, shhh! It’s alright, I’m here.” She turned her head blindly to the voice she knew so well. “Kid?” “No, it’s me.” Cody’s worried face popped into view next to her. “You were having a dream.” “Where’s Kid?” Her voice was hoarse and scratchy. “Kid? Honey, Kid’s dead, remember?” He stroked her hand compassionately. “No, I saw him, Billy. He’s alive! He’s at Uncle Thomas’!” Her words came in an excited flurry, so fast was she trying to spill them out. Cody’s eyebrows screwed together in a knot. He rose from her bed and went to the door. “Doc! I think you better get in here.” For the first time, Christy looked at her surroundings. She was amazed to find she was back in the doctor’s office. She felt fine, other than her ankle was aching again. But how had she gotten here? The doctor entered and began to look her over. “Well, I didn’t expect to see you back so soon.” “What happened?” She asked faintly. Cody reassuringly brushed her hair back from her face. “I found you outside your room. You must have fallen and hit your head.” “No!” Christy shook her head vehemently. “I was at Uncle Thomas’. He came to my room right after you left; he said he followed us there. He told me he wanted to show me something, so we rode in a wagon to his house-it was way back in the woods. When I got there, I kept hearing this loud groaning noise. Uncle Thomas told me to go see what it was. I went back to this bedroom, and…and Kid…he was laying on the bed…I saw him, Billy!” Her voice broke into sobs. Cody placed a hand comfortingly on her shoulder and looked at the doctor with concern in his blue eyes. For his part, the doctor frowned as he listened to her tirade. “She must have hit her head harder than we thought.” He said as he rubbed her head, feeling for bumps. “I didn’t hit my head!” She cried, frustrated. “I didn’t! I saw Kid! Why don’t you believe me?” “Doc, can’t you do something?” Cody pleaded. The doctor went to his medicine cabinet and removed a bottle of liquid. He poured it into a cup and mixed in a packet of powder. He stirred the concoction and brought it over to Christy. “Drink this. It will help you rest.” He ordered. Tears filled her eyes. “I don’t want to rest! I have to find Kid!” “Christy, please? We’ll talk about it more later, but you need to rest now.” Almost begging, Cody bent over her so she could see the desperation on his face. Unwillingly, she accepted the cup and gulped down its contents. If this was the only way to make the two men listen to her, then so be it. At first she felt nothing and was relieved, but soon an overwhelming sense of peace and sleepiness fell over her. She reclined back on the narrow bed and soon her breathing settled into an even rhythm. As she slept, the doctor and Cody spoke in quiet tones. “Could she be telling the truth?” The doctor wanted to know. “Impossible.” Cody said firmly. “We saw his grave. Kid is dead.” She awoke later to the sound of snoring. Night had fallen and the room was dark. By straining her eyes, Christy could just make out Cody, folded into a chair in the corner, sound asleep. She watched him for a while, feeling guilty. He should be home with his wife and new baby, not here with her in Helena, Arkansas. She slipped from the bed, wincing as her ankle touched the floor. As silently as she could while hopping on one foot, she made her way over to the desk on the far side of the room. She searched for paper and pencil and after locating it, she set about writing a note to Cody. When she had finished, she folded it and lay it on the bed where he would be sure to see it. Then she hobbled carefully outside. She breathed a quiet prayer of thanks when she saw Cody’s horse tied to the hitching post. Gathering the reins, she climbed onto the saddle, using her good foot in the stirrups. Once mounted, she paused for consideration. Mentally she tried to retrace her ride earlier with Uncle Thomas. Confident she was starting in the right direction; she nudged the horse into a trot and started out. If no one would believe her, she would find Kid on her own. Christy was determined. She would not lose him again. It took her longer than she had expected to find the path leading to the cabin. The night was clear and the moonlight bright, but it was still dark enough to make locating the barely worn trail difficult. Finally she found the faint indentations made from the wagon wheels. As she continued on, troublesome thoughts crowded her mind. What if Cody was right? What if she had only imagined that she saw Kid? No, she knew he had been there. But why had Uncle Thomas showed him to her and then taken her back to the hotel? And if Kid was alive, why hadn’t he tried to contact Lou or herself? Too many questions, and not enough answers. So deep in reverie was she that she almost didn’t hear the low growl of the dog. He crouched in the path before her, blocking her way. She cursed silently. Why had she forgotten the dog? “Nice boy.” She whispered in a wobbly voice. The mutt growled again, his white teeth gleaming in the pale light. Slowly he began to advance upon her. Cody’s horse began to paw the ground nervously, obviously afraid. Christy struggled to hold him. Another low rumbling came from the dog. It was all the encouragement the horse needed. He reared, pitching Christy from the saddle, then bolted off, crashing through the brush. Christy landed on her ankle again, sending a blinding bolt of pain through her. Tears burning her eyes, she turned to the dog. His brown and tan fur stood up straight on his back, and a thread of saliva hung from his mouth. She could see the tension build in his legs as he prepared to spring. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to outrun him, she looked around desperately for something with which to defend herself. Suddenly she heard footsteps crunching on the ground. The dog immediately ceased growling and began to whine. “Brutus!” Uncle Thomas’ voice called. “Leave her be!” Christy watched as the dog trotted obediently in the direction of his master’s voice. A minute later, Uncle Thomas appeared, Brutus close to his side. “Did he hurt you?” Uncle Thomas asked. “No.” She sniffled. “He scared my horse, though. I think I hurt my ankle again.” Sighing, Thomas scooped her off the ground and started back to his house. Christy felt almost faint from the agony in her leg, but she was determined to get some answers. “Where is he?” Uncle Thomas didn’t look at her or respond. His breath came in little puffs from the strain of carrying her. “Tell me!” She demanded. “I have to know I’m not crazy.” “See for yourself.” He said finally as they entered the house. He hauled her laboriously to the back of the house, past the kitchen, to the little room where she had been earlier. He kicked open the door, and Christy struggled to see past him. The room was lit with candles, which cast flickering shadows on the stained walls. He moved into the room and Christy held her breath as she looked down at the bed. The figure under the covers had his back to her, but she knew she would have recognized those curls anywhere. “Kid?” She murmured. Uncle Thomas set her gently on the edge of the bed. Careful of her ankle, she moved closer to the still figure beside her, hesitantly reaching out to touch his shoulder. Slowly, his body moved as he rolled over to face her. “Oh God!” She cried softly. Those eyes, blue eyes she had never thought she’d see again, stared back at her with shock. All thoughts of Uncle Thomas were forgotten as the two cousins connected for the first time in over four years. Deliberately, Kid’s hand moved from under the blankets to seek hers. She grasped it tightly. He looked weak, tired, sad, but he returned her grip slowly. “Kid! Kid! Kid!” She whispered as she smothered his cheeks with kisses. Tears rained down her face. “Christy.” He managed to croak back. Her eyes moved over him, scarcely daring to breathe, so afraid was she that he would vanish before her. His face was gaunt and covered with a couple of day’s worth of graying whiskers. His cheeks were sunken and a fine sheen of sweat covered his forehead. Only the blueness of his eyes was the same. The hand that she held was pale, the nails dirty. Kid smelled and she wondered when had been the last time that he had bathed. Her gaze moved onward, then rose back to his in horror. Instantly she understood the pain in his expression. Unbidden, she looked down again at the empty spot in the bed where his leg should have been. “He got cut right before he got out of prison.” Uncle Thomas spoke quietly. “He was defending another prisoner from a guard that had been bullying him. The guard slashed him right across his thigh. Apparently the knife was none too clean; gangrene set up in it. Doc had to amputate or let him die.” “He should have let me die.” Kid said bitterly, his voice gravelly from lack of use. “Oh, God, please don’t say that, Kid!” She cried. “Do you know how long I looked for you?” “You shouldn’t have wasted your time.” He turned his head away from her. “What good am I to anybody now?” Christy clutched his arm. “Do you really think I care about a silly leg? You’re alive! That’s all that matters, Kid. You could have no legs and no arms and it wouldn’t matter, as long as you’re here.” “That’s easy for you to say.” He returned evenly. “You have both of your legs.” Distraught at his anger, she looked at Uncle Thomas. “How is this possible? We saw his grave.” “No.” He disagreed. “You saw the grave of someone named Jebediah Lapolean. That doesn’t mean it was Kid’s grave. Have you forgotten my father’s name? Kid was named after him, remember?” “But the cemetery is for soldiers-he would have been too old to fight.” She protested. “In battle, yes, but he was still able to do other things. He worked the telegraph lines in Georgia. When he was discharged, he came here to stay with me, and I had him buried in the graveyard.” Christy rubbed her forehead, feeling the beginnings of a terrible headache. “So you have been here ever since--?” “Yes.” Uncle Thomas hung his head. “They separated us.” Christy said suddenly angry, distrustful of the shame in his voice. “For five years I had no idea where my family was all because you couldn’t control your temper.” “I know and all I can say is I’m sorry.” He sounded resigned. “I did some terrible things to all of you kids and Martha, too. Kid was on his way home to you when I found him. He had passed out. I was coming back from town when I saw him lying on the side of the road. I couldn’t believe it when I recognized it was Kid. It was like God had given me a second chance for all the mistakes I made in the past.” “It’s not that easy. You can’t just take care of Kid for a few months and expect us to forget about the past.” Christy insisted. Uncle Thomas’ eyes moved to his son. “Why not? He has.” She looked at Kid, expecting him to immediately deny his father’s claims of forgiveness. To her surprise, Kid met her gaze and slowly nodded. “It’s true, Christy. I never would have believed it either, but he’s changed.” “He’s sick.” Christy replied, nodding at her cousin. “Kid probably doesn’t remember half the stuff you did.” Uncle Thomas started to speak, but Kid interrupted. “I’m not sick. I lost my leg, not my mind. I remember everything he did, trust me, but…Christy, I saw so much hurtin’ and dyin’ during the war, I don’t want to live the rest of my life filled with hate.” Christy refused to let go of her anger. “Why didn’t you tell us he was alive? You could have written. And why did you hide from me in the cemetery?” “I hid because I didn’t think you would believe me. I saw you in front of Pa’s grave and I figured you thought it was Kid’s. I knew I had to think of some way to get you to come here with me to see for yourself.” Her uncle explained. “As for why I didn’t write, well, that wasn’t my idea.” She gaped at Kid. “You didn’t want us to know you were alive? Why?” “I didn’t want you to see me like this.” He answered in a low voice. “What kind of husband could I be to Lou with only one leg?” “What kind of---do you have any idea what she has been through these last few years? Lou has made herself sick worrying over you.” Christy cried in exasperation. His head shot up. “Is she alright?” She shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s had a rough time from a mental standpoint. Sometimes she talks to you like you’re still there. When we got word that you had been taken prisoner, it nearly destroyed her. Lou doesn’t even know I’m here-I was scared to tell her that I was coming to see your grave.” Kid stared intently at his hands, his face creased in a frown and his eyebrows knitted together. So many questions rushed through Christy’s mind, she couldn’t ask them fast enough. “Uncle Thomas, why did you take me back to the hotel after bringing me out here yesterday?” He glanced uncertainly at Kid. “Once again, not my idea. I didn’t tell Kid I was bringing you here. I thought after he saw you, he’d be so glad you were here, he’d forget all about his leg. My plan didn’t quite work like I expected, though. You fainted and Kid thought it was because you saw his leg was missing. He insisted I take you back.” “I might have known you wouldn’t give up.” Kid grumbled at her. “You’re damn right I won’t give up!” She snapped, her temper turning unexpectedly on him. “I looked and hoped and prayed for four years that I would find you. And then when I do, you’re so vain as to think I would turn my back on you because you lost your leg? I hate you for that, Kid! I really do.” She began to sob as the stress and relief, joy and fear of the day finally caught up to her. The room was silent except for her crying. Uncle Thomas slumped against the door facing, a look of sadness and exhaustion on his face. Kid held his head in his hands. The quiet was disrupted by the sound of the front door slamming open. “Christy!” Cody’s voice called frantically. “I’m back here, Billy!” She answered. He charged into the room, his rifle cocked. He surveyed the scene before him and seemed a bit confused to not find Christy in some terrible state of torture. So surprised was he to find her sitting on the bed of her own free accord, that it took him a minute to register the man laying behind her. “Kid?!” He finally shouted. “You’re not dead anymore!” Christy laughed tearfully and Kid rolled his eyes. “I never was, Cody.” “But you-we saw…how?” He stopped to scratch his head. “It’s a long story, Billy.” Christy smiled wearily. He hugged her to him, content to let it drop for now. “I was so worried! I found your horse wandering around about a quarter of a mile from here. I was afraid something had happened.” “I guess something did.” She answered soberly. “I found Kid.”
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