A New Year Miracle

By Eleanor Ward

Hannibal Heyes stood at the bar in the small town saloon, hunched over his glass of whisky. Raucous laughter briefly drew his attention and he glanced over to where several of the Devil’s Hole Gang members were playing poker. What the men were laughing at wasn’t immediately obvious. Probably some lewd joke, Heyes construed, before returning his attention to his glass.

He had been riding with the gang for almost a year now and while it had filled his pockets well enough, he had found it less satisfying emotionally.  He had consciously tried to deny the reason for this lack of satisfaction even though, deep down, he knew it perfectly well.  The reason was Jed.

With a sigh he tossed back his drink and reached for the bottle to pour another.  He and Jed had parted ways almost three years ago, after a stupid argument. An argument Heyes had since regretted but which at the time had seemed important.   He hadn’t realised just how much he would miss his friend, who had been by his side pretty much their whole lives and who had suffered along with him the tragedy of losing their families to war, and of being sent off to an orphanage which they’d later run away from because of the harsh treatment they’d endured. But he’d felt like some part of him was missing ever since their parting, and every time the gang raked in a small fortune from their robberies he would wonder if Jed was faring as well, worry about him being broke or hungry and then feel guilty for having so much for himself and wish that he could find him and share it with him.

Christmas was when he felt it most, recalling happy childhood Christmases spent at their parents’ farms in the days before they were taken from them.  Christmas this year had been three days ago and he could only assume that his current melancholy mood had been triggered by it and the memories it generated.

He jumped as he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Do you not wish to play poker?” enquired the leader of the Devil’s Hole Gang, Jim Santana, in his thick Mexican accent.

Heyes shook his head.  “I’m not in the mood.”

Santana raised one eyebrow curiously.  “We took fifty thousand dollars from that train yesterday. Is that not something to celebrate?”

Heyes gave a vague shrug, and Santana shook his head wryly.  While he liked his newest recruit very much, the boy had a tendency to drift into melancholy on occasion for no reason that Santana could see or that Heyes had ever spoken about.

Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to persuade him to join in with their rabble-rousing, Santana slapped him on the back and returned to the card tables.

Picking up his drink, Heyes moved to sit at a table in a quiet corner of the room.

Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out a pocket watch and sat looking at it, gently stroking the glass with his thumb. Presently, he turned it over and read, for the thousandth time, the words engraved there. “To Jed. Love Pa.”

 

He remembered Jed getting the watch, for his 10^th birthday, and how he had proudly carried it with him everywhere. The watch had made him feel like a grown up and he had cherished it, even moreso after the deaths of their families since it was the only thing he had left to connect him to them. No doubt he would have been deeply upset once he realized it was missing.

It was only by chance that Heyes had found it.  After their argument, and the physical fight it had degenerated into, Jed had dusted himself off, told Heyes in no uncertain terms what he thought about him, and of what he saw as his domineering attitude, packed up and left, yelling that he never wanted to see him again.  Some time later, when Jed was long out of sight, Heyes had spotted something glinting in the dusty earth. On picking it up he saw it was Jed’s watch, which must have fallen from his pocket during their fight.

He had held onto it ever since, hoping one day to find Jed and give it back to him.  He had thought it would be a relatively easy thing to track him down but, three years later, he hadn’t succeeded, despite looking out for him everywhere he went. 

With a sigh, he put the watch back into his pocket and picked up his drink.

Deciding to make an effort to appear to be enjoying the gang’s good fortune, Heyes got up and headed over to Marie, the saloon girl he usually hooked up with whenever they came to town to spend their ill-gotten gains, and before long they were in her room and his thoughts of Jed were temporarily washed away as she worked her magic on him before he fell asleep in her arms.

Three days later, they were back in the saloon to celebrate New Year’s Eve. Heyes had mostly put his melancholy mood behind him and after several whiskies was in buoyant mood, winning handsomely at the poker table before heading upstairs to spend time with Marie.

When he returned, an hour or so later, the card tables were full so he adjourned to the bar and stood chatting to Preacher who, being considerably inebriated, had spontaneously decided that gambling was “the devil’s work” that he wanted no part of, preferring to drink himself into a stupor instead.

Suddenly, a hush descended on the room. Heyes, Preacher and everyone else in the room turned their gaze to the poker tables where one of the players had accused another of cheating, relieved to see that none of the men at that table were members of the Devil’s Hole Gang.

They watched the scene play out. A scene they’d witnessed countless times before – some disgruntled player picking on the person who appeared to be winning the most and accusing him of cheating.  About half of the time the accuser won the inevitable shoot out, and about half of the time it would be the accused.

Heyes couldn’t see the accused’s face as he was sitting with his back to him, but his accuser was more than a little drunk, sweating with a mixture of anger, at the perception of being cheated, and apprehension at the outcome of his challenge, and Heyes decided it was likely that the accused would win this particular altercation.

After the usual accusations and denials, both men got to their feet.  The other players pushed away from the table to remove themselves from the risk of getting injured, while accuser and accused stared at each other across the table.

Suddenly, both men went for their guns, that of the accused appearing in his hand so quickly it drew an audible gasp of surprise and admiration from the assembled onlookers, Heyes and Preacher included.

The accuser hadn’t even got his gun out of his holster and when he saw his opponent’s weapon aimed at his chest he froze and then cautiously dropped his arm.

“I suggest you leave.” the accused was saying to his antagonist, who slowly backed away from the table and grudgingly exited the saloon.

“If you gentlemen don’t mind, I think I’ll call it a night.” the accused said to the other players, who voiced no objection, glad to see the man leave before any further trouble erupted.

Holstering his gun, the man picked up his winnings and moved to the bar where he ordered a beer.

Preacher was muttering something about never having seen anyone draw that fast, but Heyes wasn’t listening, his attention focussed on the man as he crossed to the bar. He was about his own height, with a close cropped beard and a broad brimmed hat.  Heyes knew pretty much everyone who qualified as a fast draw and didn’t recall ever seeing this man before, and yet there was something vaguely familiar about him.

The man took a sip of his beer before turning his head in Heyes’ direction, to acknowledge something said by the man standing nearest to him.

Heyes’ eyes widened.  The man’s blue eyes reminded him of Jed.  But it couldn’t be.  The Jed he remembered had been shorter, and thinner, and had barely begun to grow any kind of facial hair.

Heyes stared at him, thinking it was just wishful thinking on his part to imagine this man was his friend.  Then the man smiled at something the other man was saying and Heyes’ stomach did a cartwheel.  He’d know that smile anywhere.  It was Jed.

Before he knew it, Heyes had crossed the room, pushing through the crowd to reach him.

He paused, by his shoulder, suddenly unsure of what to do, or say.

Sensing his presence, Jed turned sideways to look at him.

“Jed?” Heyes’ voice was barely a whisper.

At first Jed looked blank but then his eyes widened in surprise as he recognized the face of his friend, thinner and more angled now than the nineteen year old youth he remembered.

“Han?”

Heyes nodded, unable, for the moment, to think of anything more to say.

Equally lost for words, Jed just stared at him.  After he’d cooled down, he too had regretted their argument and subsequent parting. He had often wondered if their paths would ever cross again. Now they had, he wasn’t sure what kind of reaction he would receive from him.

Eventually, Heyes, still astonished, said, “How did you learn to draw like that?”

Jed shrugged.  “Practice.”

Heyes snorted.  “Most people practice, but very few get to be that fast.”

Jed shrugged again.  “Guess it’s just a natural talent…” 

Heyes nodded, thoughtfully. 

“Han… About our arg--” Jed began presently, feeling the need to set things straight between them, but Heyes spoke over him.

“Forget it. It’s not important.”

“It seemed it, at the time.”

“It did. But we were younger… and stupid.”

Jed nodded agreement.  “I hoped we’d run into each other again.” he said presently.

Before Heyes could reply, Santana approached them.

“Jim, this is my friend, Jed.” Heyes introduced him.

“You have a friend who can draw that fast and you never thought to mention him to me?”

“We haven’t seen each other in a while.  His fast draw is as much a surprise to me as to you.”

Santana raised an eyebrow.  “Maybe you can persuade him to join us?” He turned to Jed, “We could use a man like you in our group.”  Then, with a wink to Heyes, he moved on to one of the saloon girls, putting his arm around her shoulder and steering her towards the stairs.

“Group?” asked Jed, as he walked away.

Heyes nodded.  “I’m riding with the Devil’s Hole Gang.  That’s our leader, Jim Santana.”

“I’ve heard of him.” said Jed, watching Santana as he climbed the stairs to the upper rooms. Then, turning back to Heyes, “Train robber?”

Heyes nodded.  He and Jed had done some thieving in the years before they’d parted company, but had never robbed banks or trains.

“How long have you been riding with them?” Jed asked, looking both surprised and impressed.

“About a year.  How about you? What have you been up to?”

“Oh, this and that.  Odd jobs, playing poker, a bit of thieving.  Nothing on the scale of the Devil’s Hole gang though!”

“You’re not shocked?” Heyes raised a questioning eyebrow.

Jed shook his head.  “You always did have big ambitions.”

Heyes grinned.  “You could join us?” he suggested, hopefully.  Now that they’d found each other he didn’t want them to go their separate ways again.

Jed looked uncertain.  “I’d have to give that some thought.”  Having mostly only indulged in petty theft, in order to keep himself alive, he wasn’t sure about stepping into the big league.

“Alright.”  Heyes was pretty sure he could convince him to join the gang but, remembering how Jed had accused him of being over-bearing and domineering, during their argument, he didn’t want to appear to be pressuring him, so he let it go for now.

Just then, the clock above the bar began to chime midnight and most of the saloon’s patrons adjourned outside to celebrate the onset of the new year with a firework display.

Jed and Heyes followed them, standing together at the back of the crowd as they watched the fireworks, feeling slightly awkward at being in each other’s company once more after their acrimonious parting.

Chilled by the cold night air, Heyes put his hands in his coat pockets.  Then, with a smile, he turned to Jed.

“The day we argued… you dropped this…” he said, pulling out the pocket watch and holding it out to him.

For a moment, Jed looked bemused but then his eyes widened when he recognized the watch. It had been a while before he’d realized it was missing and hadn’t been able to recall where he’d lost it. That Han had found and held onto it all this time had never occurred to him and he was touched that he had cared enough to do so, especially after everything he’d said to him during their argument.

Reaching out, he tentatively took the watch, his eyes misting as he read the inscription on the back once more.

“Thank you.” he whispered.  “I thought I’d lost it forever…” he lifted his eyes to Heyes’ now, “and you too…”

Heyes met his gaze and smiled.  “Never. I always knew we’d see each other again.”

Jed gave him a disparaging look. “Really? Psychic too, are you?”

“No.” Heyes laughed before his expression grew serious once more.  “But I always knew, somehow… in here…” He placed a hand across his heart, suddenly realizing it was true.

“Well, I didn’t - although I always hoped - but I’m glad anyway.”  smiled Jed.

“Me too.”  Heyes smiled back.

Their eyes met and held, all the animosity left by their acrimonious parting melting away to be replaced by familiar feelings of friendship and camaraderie.

They turned their gaze back to the fireworks, comfortable once more in each other’s company. Jed clutched the watch in his pocket, still amazed that his friend had held onto it all this time and that they should run into each other today of all days. It was nothing short of a new year miracle.

As the last firework faded away, Jed turned towards him. “Happy New Year, Han.” he said, sincerely.

Heyes smiled. “Happy New Year to you too.” Then, putting an arm around his shoulder, he said, “Let’s go back to the hotel and talk about you joining the gang.”

Knowing full well that his friend would get his way - just as he always had done - and recruit him into the gang, Jed merely rolled his eyes as Heyes steered him across the street. A new year and a new start.  What could possibly go wrong?