Redtail
4 Time Travel Anomalies
YOU KNOW EVERYTHING science fiction says about the rules of time travel? You can’t be two places at the same time. You have to avoid contact with yourself in the past. Anything you do in the past could change the future. You can go ‘back to the future’. From my experience, I’d say they’re all bunk. I don’t believe you can go back and change history. What’s done is done. You’re a kind of observer. It’s the things that aren’t history that you can affect.
Think about what Kyle was doing. Or rather what Despain was doing. I mean whoever the time traveler was who was giving Despain information about where to get the loot. I was pretty convinced that there was some 20th century traveler who was looking out of Despain’s eyes when Kyle sat across from him. Next time I got there, I was going to look in a mirror when I took possession of Kyle and watch for subtle changes. Maybe Kyle couldn’t notice it, but I could.
Anyway, I did some research about lost treasures in the library when I was in my junior year in high school. There were a ton of bank robberies in the late 1800s and early 1900s where the robbers were caught, but the money was never recovered. I suppose some of them were simply because there was a tendency to shoot first and ask questions later. You can’t get good answers about where they hid the money if they’re dead.
Despain was passing on all the accumulated knowledge of where the heist was going to take place and which direction the robbers were headed, where the shootout would be, and what was recovered. Kyle was there waiting for them like he was at Big Horn. When the shooting started, he slipped in, picked up the loot and left. Absolutely no history change. Clean as a whistle. So, while I was studying in school to pass stupid Algebra Two, I spent all my available spare time researching lost treasures in the Old West.
I figured newspapers were the key and most of the newspapers of that era were put on microfiche. I found out that various genealogical libraries had huge collections of old newspapers.
I knew the timeframe I was looking for, so I just started digging through every edition of every paper from the early 1890s. I found a lot.
A Broken Heart
The first time I saw Geneive in school—yeah, the very first day of school, just as the first bell rang—she looked daggers at me and I don’t think I’d ever seen her so angry. Hell! She dumped me. What did I do? She marched right up to me in the hall before class even started and got right in my face. That’s a good trick for a girl who’s fourteen inches shorter than me.
“You bastard! Not one call! All summer and you never called me once. Who is she? Who did you dump me for? I’m going to tear her eyes out, you fucking bastard!” Holy shit!
“Whoa, girl! What are you on about? I come down off the mountain and call as soon as I get in the house and you won’t even talk to me. You send your mother to tell me not to call you anymore. What right do you have calling me names, bitch?” I said that last a little too loudly and a bunch of people stopped in the hall and looked at us. I guess they figured there was going to be a good fight and they wanted to watch.
“You never called,” Geneive insisted.
“I did. The minute I got down from the range on July 24. Your mom said you couldn’t talk and I shouldn’t call again this summer. What was I supposed to think? You dumped me over the phone at Christmas. This time you used your mom.”
“Oh shit!” Tears sprang to Geneive’s eyes. “Don’t kill me, Cole. I didn’t do that. Honest. I fucked up royal when I broke up with you at Christmas. I would never break up with you again without facing you. Never. Oh fuck, Mom. Why would she do that?”
“You didn’t tell her to break up with me?” Geneive shook her head vigorously and tears were flying every which way. Fuck! Why do parents interfere so much? I reached out and pulled Geneive into my arms. She fell against my chest and sobbed. Mr. Carson, my Algebra teacher came out of the room and looked at us sternly.
“This is a school and we have classes. The hall is not the place to deal with your personal differences or your love life. The bell rings in… forty-four seconds. Get to class.”
I bit back a retort and quickly whispered to Geneive, “Meet me after school.” She nodded and rushed away. I sat down at my desk in Algebra just as the bell rang.
What a waste. The first day of classes is a walk-through. The periods are twenty-five minutes long—just enough to get our textbooks and seating assignments if the teacher is a tight-ass like Mr. Carson. By noon, classes are out for the day. That meant that Geneive and I were free to have lunch together and not go back to class. She piled into the truck and slid over next to me like it was old times. We still had to talk, so we went to Sonic and got burgers and shakes and sat there to eat them.
“First of all, Cole, I never told Mom to break up with you. I really learned my lesson last year and if I ever break up with you again, it will be face-to-face just like we are sitting right now. Please don’t hate me.”
“I don’t hate you, Geneive. I was hurt that you wouldn’t even talk to me. Didn’t you know I’d call as soon as I came down?”
“I… I wasn’t myself this summer. After the third time I didn’t go in to work, Mom got really mad at me and grounded me. I didn’t mean to keep forgetting things. I forgot to let the dog out. I forgot to go to work. I forgot what shoes to wear when I was working. It’s like I wasn’t all there. Mom got really pissed at me. Dad, too. The more they yelled at me, the worse it got. Then when I thought you didn’t call me, it got worse yet. I was like a zombie. I don’t think I really snapped out of it until I saw you this morning just as the first bell rang. I was so heart-broken to think you just abandoned me.”
“I won’t abandon you, Ginny. No matter how rough things get, I won’t abandon you.”
“You would for her, though,” Geneive said softly. She didn’t know about Mary Beth specifically, just that there was someone else I loved. Damn it. Two someone elses. I admit that if I could just go back and be with my Laramie and my little baby, I’d probably abandon everything. But I also knew that wasn’t going to happen and there was no sense even thinking about it.
“She’d never ask me to leave you, darlin’. I’m sorry I can’t give you better. If you figure you need someone that’s better than me, I understand. As much as I’d never abandon you, I’d never hold you back, either.”
“That sounds a lot like love, Cole.”
“Yeah. It’s a lot like love.”
We stayed an item for most of the fall and winter and it was a lot like love. But all the way back then, the first ripples of trouble for the family were showing up. That fall Joe Teini moved to town.
I had no idea who the hell Joe Teini was. He’d gone to high school in Laramie and then went to college a few years before I was aware of other people. He was in his mid-twenties. He was apparently rich. And he stole my girlfriend.
What would Jason do?
Well, she chose what she wanted. We’d been dating and fucking like rabbits for almost a year and a half and I’d pretty much decided she was the one. She came out to the truck on Friday night for our usual date and sat by the door. She asked me not to move the truck. She hardly looked at me as she broke up with me. But she did it face-to-face like she said she would.
“There’s a group that meets on Wednesday night at the restaurant,” she said. “They have the private dining room and Daddy has me on that night to help wait the tables. And there’s this guy who has been really nice. And he asked me out. And I want to go. Cole, I would never cheat on you, so I’m breaking up. I really had fun this year.” Tears were pouring down her cheeks and I guess there were some on mine as well. “I loved you, Cole.” I reached across the seat to touch her, but her hand was already on the door handle. Lights hit the rearview mirror and a little sports car came screeching into Geneive’s drive behind me. “Goodbye,” she said and piled out of the truck to run to the car.
April Fool! I kept waiting for her to say it, but she didn’t come back to the truck. The car pulled out around me and spun gravel into the side of my truck.
A goddamned Corvette. I couldn’t believe it. She dumped me for an older guy in a black Corvette! The whole thought of it left a bad taste in my mouth. Geneive would probably be pregnant before the summer was over and he’d either dump her or they’d be getting married. I was wrong on both counts, but I didn’t find that out for a few months.
I guess Geneive was my first broken heart.
Mary Beth and I got away for spring break under the ruse that she was going to move to an apartment in Boulder and needed my help moving. She got our families to agree that I could go to Boulder to help.
I moved her.
The move from one apartment to another took about two hours. The emotional and sexual outpourings took six days.
I was in a bit of a funk. Let’s face it, I’d just been dumped for a guy in a ’Vette. During the previous summer, I’d found out that Laramie and Kyle were real and not just something I dreamed or hallucinated. At least I had a bit of evidence that said they were, but there was no way I could get back. All I had were initials carved in an old tree that looked like what I remembered carving when I’d made love to Laramie and told her that I would love her as long as a tree stood in the forest.
So, having a week with Mary Beth was great therapy. As soon as we got her moved into her new apartment, we went out grocery shopping and condom shopping. The only other time we left the apartment that week was to go buy more condoms.
“Cole. Cole! Oh, my God, Cole! What are you doing?”
“I am burying my face in the sweetest muff on the Front Range,” I answered from between Mary Beth’s legs. And I wasn’t lying either. Once I’d finally convinced her that I really wanted to eat her, Mary Beth was a convert. She even trimmed up her pussy hair so I wouldn’t get so much in my mouth. When she arched her back and squealed for the third time she grabbed my ears and pulled me up next to her.
“No more. Please, not right now. I can’t take any more. I don’t care if Geneive dumped you, I’ve got to call her and thank her. She taught you well. Oh god, Cole. I’m exhausted. How am I ever going to recover? I love you!”
“I love you, Mary Beth. Damn, I wish life was always as simple as when I’m with you. When I’m here in bed with you, everything makes sense. You are my rock.”
“You mean you just want every day of your life to be a non-stop fuckfest,” she laughed.
“Hell, Mary Beth, you know I love us fucking. But I loved fucking Geneive, too. It gives me the creeps to think of that other guy fucking my Ginny’s pussy. But it’s more than that with you, Mary Beth. It’s not about fucking—or at least not all about fucking. I can’t see myself ever without you. I can’t imagine life without you. Sometimes I think we’ll just have to find a place where first cousins can marry and the hell with everything else. I know I’m only seventeen, but honey, you are enough for me. In fact, you’re all I ever want.”
“Shh. Shh. I love you, Cole. And I don’t care what the laws are either. But we can be all that for each other without getting married. Honey, I want you to have a real relationship with a girl you can marry and have babies with. I want to live next door to my little cousins and when your wife lets you out at night, I want to be there to love you, too. She’s out there someplace, Cole. That woman that can love you and still let you love me. Hell, maybe she’ll even love me. That would be a kick, wouldn’t it? Come here.” I leaned over to kiss Mary Beth and instead she licked my face.
“What?”
“I’m just checking to see what a little pussy tastes like. I don’t mind eating it off your face.”
“Geez, you can talk dirty!”
“And look what it did to your cowboy. I think he wants to go for another ride.”
“Aren’t you too sore?”
“I think I just flooded the corral. Get that rubber on and do me again, lover.”
After our week together, Mary Beth and I were more in love than ever. She told me in no uncertain terms, though, that I had to find myself another girlfriend and not think about her all the time.
“So, are you going to find a boyfriend and forget about me?”
“Yes,” she said firmly. “I’m not going to think about you at all this year.”
“Not going to go stand in that courtyard and think about kissing me?” I teased.
“No. Oh, Cole. Every night I’m going to lie down here in this bed and think about making love with you right here. I can’t kid you. I’m going to miss you every day of the year and I’m going to hunt you down in the mountains in the summer if I have to in order to be back in your arms. But we have to date other people and we have to be prepared for not being together. There just isn’t any way that we could get away with it.”
“No matter who I’m with, Mary Beth, I’ll always love you and I’ll always be your lover. If a girl wants to be with me, she’s just going to have to accept the fact that I love you, too.”
We hugged each other and cried a little and then made love one more time before I got in my truck and drove north.
And then spring break was over and I had to go back to school.
I dated a couple girls that spring before school was out. Nothing serious. Movie. Burger. Home. Little peck on the cheek and “Let’s do this again. Sometime.”
I think maybe girls were a little tentative about going out with a guy whose last relationship was known to be hot and heavy. I guess I was a little tentative about it, too. I just wasn’t ready or willing to let anybody else get that close.
I was pretty much relieved when school got out and I mounted up the next day to ride up to the herd for the summer. At least up here, with a little luck, I’d hear a hawk and go find Laramie. I was taking the high range again during the summer. Mom convinced me to take a week’s break and come home for my 18th birthday on the Fourth of July. I got delayed a couple weeks, though, because of storms up on the range. I held myself together by thinking about being back with Mary Beth. The day finally got there.
We were snuggled together in a hodgepodge of open sleeping bags and blankets on the air mattress basking in the glow of some pretty exhausting licking and kissing. I’m sure there wasn’t a living thing within a mile of us. They’d all be scared off by the noise we were making. We spent five days together up in the Tetons. I thought it was a little strange how my folks never blinked an eye about me going off camping when I’d been camping on the range for two months. And I was almost sure they knew Mary Beth was going with me.
The break was over all too quickly and I headed back to the range. The days are quiet with the herd, but they are long. I really didn’t mind. We rode twelve hour shifts, give or take, and with three of us, one slept, one cooked, and one was on the range. Of course, occasionally something happened to upset the schedule, like the thunderstorm last year that spooked the cattle and led me to that steer caught under a tree. It was different this time.
“Cole, Jack’s got a belly ache. I think it might be bad,” George said when I’d just got in from riding herd all night. I was ready to slide into my bedroll and be gone for the day. “I radioed your dad and he’s sending a truck up to get him to the hospital. But I don’t think Jack can make it to the trailhead by hisself. I think it’s his ’pendix. You’re going to have to grab some grub and ride back out to the herd while I get Jack loaded out. I’ll try to get back as soon as possible.”
“Sure,” I yawned. “No big deal. Take care, Jack. You’ll be fine,” I said. I grabbed what was left in the coffeepot and piled some ham on a hard roll then mounted up again. Buttercup wasn’t happy about turning back to the pasture, but she’s a good horse and complied. We just sat out on the hill overlooking the herd while the dogs circulated.
I looked up in the sky and saw a hawk doing lazy circles high overhead. I wasn’t sure if it was there or if I was dreaming. I just knew that if that hawk screamed, I was going to go see Laramie. I just thought up at it.
Screech, damn it. Take me away.
Traveling: A Winter’s Love
I damned near got us killed. Redtail cried and I was slammed into Kyle’s body hard. I jerked his head around to look for his horse before it registered that it was snowing all around. I caught sight of his buckskin a dozen paces away and turned to go get him.
“No!” Kyle screamed inside my head. I felt the bullet whistle past my head before I heard the shot. I guess body reflexes respond without conscious effort. I never left the helm, but Kyle’s body spun and his hand drew the Smith & Wesson Model 3 as I dove to the ground and fired back. I watched in horror as a towering man raised his gun and then fell forward as his chest blossomed in blood.
I’d just killed a man.
I knew Kyle had killed before. I’d seen it in his memories. But that didn’t seem to affect me the way this did. I’d been in control of the body when the hand drew the gun and fired. I retreated as Kyle took over, approached the man, and put another round in his head just to make sure. He ejected the spent cartridges and reloaded as he kept looking around as if expecting another enemy to emerge from the trees. The snow was coming down so heavy I could barely see as far as the trees, but I heard the horses stamping. He grabbed the dead man by the collar and dragged him to the campsite a dozen yards away. Two men slumped over a chest and a third man lay in the snow a few feet away. There were three horses and a mule hitched to a buckboard. Kyle retrieved the gun that had been fired at us and locked the bandit’s hand around the grip. I rummaged around in his mind for what had happened just before I arrived.
Kyle had been waiting—right where I would have told him to. I’d read about the Wells Fargo robbery last Christmas. According to the articles, the robbers had had a falling out and killed each other fighting over the loot. I was puzzled, though. The reports said that a posse tracking in the early spring had found the campsite, the bodies, and all the gold in the Wells Fargo strongbox, unopened and untouched. If Kyle took the strongbox, that would change what was recorded in history.
We walked right past the men slumped over the Wells Fargo box and headed to the buckboard. There were three more boxes on the bed of the wagon. These, Kyle hoisted one at a time and loaded on his mule. They were lighter than I expected gold to be, but Kyle didn’t open them. When he was loaded, he went to the robbers’ picket line and loosened all the horses. He didn’t saddle them, but left the saddles where they’d been stacked for the camp. The mule, he ponied along with his own and we headed out of the snowy pass where they’d camped. The horses stamped and headed back down the trail the way they’d come.
Kyle had scouted the area well and I wondered how long he’d been camped there waiting. The trail we took would have been treacherous in summer, but with over a foot of snow, it was nearly impassable. Our camps were meager and rations were tight for both Kyle and the animals. At the first camp, he redistributed the packs and opened the wooden boxes. Instead of gold, there were stacks of Franklins in the three boxes. Kyle distributed the bundles of money in oilcloths and put it all in the mules’ side-bags. Then he broke up the boxes and used them for fuel for our campfire.
It seemed to me that Despain’s time traveler had access to a lot more information than I’d been able to gather so far. How the hell did he know to tell Kyle to leave the gold and take three other boxes? Currency wasn’t going to be a problem. Wyoming was a State of the Union now. This was all legal tender and easier to carry than gold. On the other hand, I had to figure out how easy it would be to cash that legal tender in my time and how durable it would be. He had to have some other plans. Whatever they were, I was making some plans as well.
It was the middle of winter and the chance that Redtail was going to swoop down out of the winter sky and snatch me back to my own time seemed remote. In my own time, I wasn’t seeing more than one a year. It was winter and it seemed to me like the best place to spend it would be with Laramie.
When we reached Boulder, I let Kyle enjoy himself for a couple of days while he got clean and got laid. He didn’t resist, though when I prodded him to keep moving north and even seemed content, somehow. I relaxed and let him be the guide as he followed the trail and then cut west after we crossed into Wyoming to pick up the Centennial Ridge, avoiding N.K. Boswell’s ranch. I filtered through his memories as they came up and he seemed to actually be pushing some of them at me. He settled back in his own mind and I swear he willingly gave over control to me as we trudged through snow up to the horse’s belly toward Laramie’s hut.
“Hallo the cabin!” I called as I was approaching. The hides covering the opening twitched and then Laramie came out holding a rifle.
“Kyle?”
“Laramie, honey, can I stable my stock and come in?”
“Kyle!” she yelled as she set aside her rifle and did her best effort at running through the drifts to me. I slid off the horse and held her in my arms. Well, I kind of held the layers of skins that were wrapped and tied around her with the layers of cloth and coats that were wrapped around me. It was damned cold out here.
It took close to an hour to get the horse and mules stabled in the little lean-to behind her hut with her pinto and two cows. A thermal spring kept water running into their trough. Kyle had a canvas that we’d used for shelter about the size of a wagon cover and we extended the lean-to with it so that all six animals were comfortable and warm. I saw there was plenty of firewood stacked next to the hogan and there seemed to be a good haystack beside the lean-to. Laramie led me inside and unwrapped the layers from each of us. The hogan was warm—a small space with lots of furs, a fire, and four people. I greeted Theresa Ranae and she nodded in my direction then held out the baby.
My daughter. My little Kaylene. Hell, she was eight… almost nine months old now and burbling happily as she grabbed toward my wispy beard. As blond as Kyle was, the hair on his face wasn’t all that thick. The hair on his head, though, was long and Kaylene loved getting her fingers tangled in it.
“You’ve come back,” Theresa said. “How long this time?”
“I never know, Theresa,” I said. “But it’s winter. Have you seen any hawks circling this month?” She shook her head.
“Is that what it is?”
“The redtail hawk. Whenever he screeches, my… personality changes. The other doesn’t bear you ill will, but I don’t completely trust him. If we are together when the hawk cries, you must get away.”
“Skin walker,” Theresa said. “My husband knew of such.”
“Redtail,” Laramie whispered. “It is like you were among my father’s people. When you are in the town of the white people you are Kyle Wardlaw. When you are with me, you are Kyle Redtail.” I smiled and pulled Laramie close to me as I held our daughter in my arms and settled into the furs with the two of them.
“Have you filed a claim and purchased land?” I asked.
“There was too much to do in late summer. We needed wood, hay, furs, meat, vegetables. We needed a place for the animals. And we needed to trade for tools and bullets. I could not leave.”
“We should have gone south with the People in September,” Theresa said. “But you changed things. This is now her home and we’ll stay here. It is not easy. But the other Kyle helped.”
“He what?”
“I saw him. He didn’t come near, but we could hear him cutting and splitting wood. At night, he came and built the fence for the animals and made the water trough. We ‘found’ a haystack less than a mile from here with wagon tracks leading away. All the wood was cut to make the shelter. Even when you are not here, he seems to want to help.”
“I’ll be damned,” I said. I knew Kyle wouldn’t hurt them, but I never thought he would help. I searched through his memories and saw that he didn’t want me to be angry with him when I returned.
“I’m glad he helped,” I said. “And now that I am here, I will continue to help. I will hunt and bring more wood and do what is necessary for a man to do to care for his family.”
“Does that include lying with your wife?” Laramie asked. I blushed. Damn! Her mother was right here beside us. In fact, I noticed that the bed furs were all in one place now. I supposed the three of them slept together for warmth.
“Do not worry, Kyle Redtail,” Theresa laughed. “When my husband first took me, his mother lay in the same furs. Having our family together does not need to dampen your ardor. I am an old lady, but I will relive my youth.”
“I hope you live long, Mother,” I said. I meant it with every fiber of my being.
It was still a little awkward. Theresa slept nearest the fire and cradled Kaylene in her arms as the two drifted off to sleep. Laramie and I kissed and I marveled again at how sweet her mouth was. I was still a little embarrassed and uncomfortable. Imagine making love to your woman with her mother and daughter in the same bed. I guess the saving grace was that there were no springs in this bed of pine needles and furs, so at least we weren’t bouncing Theresa around.
Laramie seemed not to have any such compunction. I thought we’d be keeping all our clothes on and sneaking our love quietly. It was not long, though, before we lay naked with our skin pressed against each other.
“Laramie, I love you,” I whispered as I stroked her milky breasts and moved my hand toward her hot center. “Throughout this life and all others. I’ve always loved you.”
“You speak strangely, Kyle Redtail. But I love you. You bring heat to my loins when I am with you and a strange emptiness when you are gone. Fill me, Kyle Redtail. Fill me with your love.”
I moved my hips and Laramie guided me into her warmth. For a moment as we joined fully together, we just lay still and enjoyed the feeling of being connected. I think Kyle was surprised that we didn’t immediately start humping and I felt an involuntary twitch as my hips pushed forward. But this was another new experience—the pure joy of being connected to the woman I loved. Slowly we began moving together, each intent on the other’s pleasure. I was in no rush to come to completion. I wanted to feel each ripple of her cunt as she pulsed around me and headed toward her own orgasm.
It was quiet—comparably. We’d both howled our joy to the moon on other occasions, but this time we kept our lips together and our tongues engaged as she shuddered her release, moaning into my mouth, and I filled her with an abundance of my semen.
Perhaps tonight we were making another child. I would have no trouble with that at all.
The winter passed and the four of us grew closer as a family, even with Kyle occasionally asserting himself to go hunting or tend his animals. He was pretty docile and retreated immediately whenever Laramie came into view. I think he was content to experience love and family that he’d never known. I let him have these outings. I remembered all too well how it had been the last time as I simply rested in the back of his mind while he hunted in the Big Horn. We celebrated Kaylene’s first birthday as a family.
When I was in control of his body, I slept. When Kyle had been in control last time, I was cursed to be awake all the time, even though he slept. I wondered if he had the same experience. I got my answer when I awoke one morning and discovered that I was slipping quietly in and out of Laramie, my hand softly caressing her breast. An embarrassed Kyle retreated as I came back to consciousness, but I was at peace. It was his body and I knew he enjoyed my couplings with Laramie as much as I did. I’d certainly experienced a number of his whores.
“We really need to get you to town as soon as it starts to thaw to file your claims and to buy property,” I said. “The world is changing rapidly and soon all the land will be claimed.”
“Who could want all of the land?” Laramie asked. “Is there not enough for everyone?”
“White men are greedy,” I said. “Wyoming is big and will never have as many people as the rest of the Union. Part of that is because of the big claims of men like N.K. Boswell. His ranch keeps getting bigger and bigger.”
“But, Kyle. I cannot simply go to Laramie and present a sack full of gold coins and buy land. I’m half Cheyenne. They would want to know where this money came from.”
“That’s true,” I said. “We’ll have to think this through.”
“I can buy land,” Theresa said. “I am white. No one would ask.”
I looked at Theresa. She was getting old. I guessed she must be at least forty. Her hair gleamed silver when she went out in the sun. Still, even though she was worn and worked hard, she was definitely a white woman. That might just work.
A flash came into my mind of the railroad. I wondered where that came from and then realized Kyle was paying attention. I relaxed and let his thoughts come to mind. The rail line from Denver to Cheyenne had recently been finished. The branch line continued north to Fort Laramie, but we could transfer to the mainline Union Pacific from Cheyenne to Laramie. Kyle’s thought was outstanding. Travel southeast until we reached the railroad spur at Fort Collins. Travel the spur line southeast to Greeley and board to Cheyenne. In Cheyenne, board the Union Pacific to Laramie and Theresa could present herself as moving West after her husband’s death. No one in Laramie would know she boarded the westbound train in Cheyenne instead of Omaha. She would immediately deposit a few thousand dollars with Wells Fargo in Laramie and set about establishing herself and buying land.
I liked the idea and presented it to Theresa who nodded in agreement.
“If you can travel with us, we can buy proper clothes in Fort Collins that make us look like eastern farm women. I will keep Laramie hidden until we are established.
The whole scheme sounded too smart for Kyle to think up. Not that I think my host was dumb, but he wasn’t subtle. My thoughts were apparently blocked from him as he had no idea where I came from or why. He knew whatever went on while I was in his body—all our conversations and especially our love-making. I had a feeling he was even growing fond of Kaylene. But talking to him was like talking to myself. If I really wanted information I learned that I should not try to mentally ask him questions. That confused him. But if I casually mentioned a subject aloud, his mind automatically jumped to information about it. I still didn’t figure out how he thought up this scheme, though, until we happened to start talking about money. His money as it turned out.
“It’s nearly time,” Theresa said one morning looking out between the hides that covered the doorway. “There will be an early thaw. We should be ready to leave by the full moon.” I nodded. The lady might be white, but she had lived among the Indians over half her life and had picked up much of their weather sense.
“How much money do you still have?” I asked Laramie. She pulled her leather pouch from under the bed furs and poured the contents out on the table. She had mostly gold coins, being harder for her to spend unobtrusively, but still a good stack of Franklins. “You need more. You have to buy land if it’s already been claimed and if you are lucky, you’ll get about ten acres per gold coin. You need at least a couple thousand acres in order to raise enough cattle or even sheep to make it pay. Then once you have the land, you need a real house on it. You’ll have to hire some labor. And you need to buy stock. You are going to come out West as a widowed farm wife who was very successful in, say Iowa. You need more money.”
I pulled my duster on and went to the lean-to where I’d carefully stowed the mule packs and started pulling out stacks of $50 bills. Kyle’s alarm bells were going off, but I kept counting. I pulled ten straps out of the bag. That was $50,000. There were still at least a dozen bricks in the bags—over half a million dollars. When Kyle saw I was only taking one brick, he settled back, but I paused and watched his mind flicker with images.
So that was how he thought of going to Fort Collins and Greeley. Despain expected him to winter in Denver or Boulder then make his way to Greeley in the spring. He was to acquire a trunk, fill it with clothes and bury $100,000 dollars in it. This he was to ship to Despain. Kyle was to take the remaining money with him and return to Laramie. When the sheriff called him to his office, he’d give Despain the remaining cash. This was to accomplish two things. First, it established that a business associate had shipped his belongings to Despain with instructions to bank his money for him and use it to acquire land. Second, if the trunk and money was stolen, only a small portion was at risk. The remainder was safely with Kyle. It was clever. Even better than the system he’d thought up for Laramie and Theresa. This was 1891. There were no interstate commerce laws that governed the shipment of cash and no such thing as wire transfers.
I gave the money to Laramie and Theresa and we packed their share into saddlebags. We packed up and inside of three days we’d turned the cows loose on the lower slope where the water was running and grass was already peeking through. Then we headed southeast to Fort Collins.
The going was only a little easier than it had been getting through in December. The Laramie River was overflowing its banks already. We weren’t going to go into Laramie to cross it and I wanted to avoid Boswell’s land down by Woods Landing. If Boswell recognized Kyle, he’d surely tell his protégé the next time they met. That led me to another decision that Kyle objected to. I cut his golden hair short and blackened it with a combination of grease and charcoal. I’d let his beard grow most of the winter and that I also blackened. At first glance, no one would recognize him. He headed south, avoiding Boswell by crossing at Wood’s Landing at night. Theresa rode Laramie’s paint and carried the baby much of the time. Laramie rode in my arms on the big buckskin. The two mules followed along docilely.
It took three weeks to make Fort Collins. We checked into a respectable but modest hotel for three dollars a night. No whorehouse on this trip. I went out to buy the trunk and clothes to put in it. I took an assortment of women’s and men’s clothing, explaining to the merchant that my family’s belongings had been washed away as we attempted to cross the South Platte. We had saved only the two mules, the two horses and the money in our saddlebags. I pled near destitution and got a good deal for a double-eagle. I presented the women’s clothing to Laramie and Theresa and left the men’s clothing in the trunk to pack the money into and ship to Despain.
We all cleaned up and I washed the coal out of my hair. From this point, Kyle was where Despain expected him to be. When everyone was safely headed north from Greeley, I’d head to Laramie with the remains of the money. I’d also sell one mule and the paint. Laramie was distraught over losing her precious horse, but I assured her that it was for the best and she would be able to buy another horse in Laramie. Probably a team for a wagon. She was going to become a respectable landowner.
The ladies that emerged from the bath were amazing. Well, I was in the room and Theresa was given the first bath while the water was hottest and cleanest. Kyle couldn’t figure out why I hadn’t claimed the first bath as should be my right. He wasn’t disappointed to see my mother-in-law emerge naked from the tub, though. I decided I needed to do something about this response quickly and joined Laramie in the tub. She made sure my erection was fully buried and used to the fullest before we stepped out.
Her mother had already selected a dress and had brushed her long silver hair into a tight knot on her head. I wasn’t sure what the fashions were in this age, but she looked fantastic, especially when she pulled a shawl up over her head. The dress I’d bought especially for Laramie was a blue gingham that slid smoothly over her graceful curves. Her mother instructed her on how to wear the various undergarments that a lady needed. When we were finally dressed, we looked the part of a western family with a husband and wife traveling with their baby and mother-in-law. They were stunning and more than one man turned his head to look at my women when they accompanied me into the dining room.
We ate a good meal and I had a beer. I think it was the first time in her life that someone other than her mother cooked a meal and served it to Laramie. It had probably been 20 years since Theresa had experienced it, if ever. They were both like kids with their eyes wide. I had to teach some basic manners to both of them, though Theresa was quicker to catch on, simply being reminded of the proper way to eat with an array of utensils beside her plate. Unfortunately, when Kaylene started to fuss, Laramie got frustrated with her fancy new dress and undergarments and just pulled the whole front of her dress down so she could nurse the baby. I quickly borrowed Theresa’s shawl and draped it artfully over my wife’s exposed parts. Even if breast-feeding in public was more accepted in 1891 than in 1995, I wasn’t happy about every man in the place drooling over Laramie’s tits.
I was getting antsy to move. We boarded the train to Greeley where I shipped the trunk and bought a suitcase and two tickets for Cheyenne. I spent a couple more days teaching Laramie and Theresa the rudiments of polite behavior, but I could feel Kyle becoming impatient to get to Laramie as well. I suggested that Theresa and Laramie stay in Cheyenne for a few days before going on to Laramie and that they should deposit half of their money with Wells Fargo in Cheyenne and then have it transferred to Laramie after they arrived. Perhaps they would even find land nearer the new state capitol, though I knew both were committed to staying on Centennial Ridge.
I was anxious to get going for a different reason. It was late April and I knew the hawks were returning to the upper plains.
That last night together in Greeley was precious to me. Even though we were no longer sharing the close confines of a tent or our hut on the mountain, it never occurred to us to have Theresa and the baby in a different room or bed. If anything, the confines of a double mattress were tighter than those of our sleeping furs. There was a drop-off on either side. But it made no difference to Laramie and me. We knew that tomorrow we’d be parting whether I was still riding inside Kyle or not. It was time for them to go north.
Laramie and I stripped out of our clothes and I held her in the bed while she nursed our little girl. Theresa slipped into the bed beside us and watched our loving family scene. When Kaylene had her fill, Laramie handed her over to her mother who cuddled the baby to sleep and wrapped her in the new soft blanket I’d bought. We doused the light and settled beneath the covers.
There was no pretense or slowness about Laramie and me making love. We kissed and fondled and she had me hard in an instant. I slipped my fingers into her and brought her to a good come before she crawled on top of me and put my cock in her cunt. She slid down slow and I closed my eyes trying to memorize every twist and turn and bump as my cowboy found his way home. I poured out everything I could when we were joined. I told her how much I loved her and that I was going to find a way to be sure she was taken care of. I told her I dreamed of coming back and being beside her forever. I wanted to have more children with her and raise our family on a ranch in the mountains with enough bottom land to grow feed and a garden.
All that time, I was touching her. Her hair had been washed and brushed and was like silk beneath my fingers. We had our lips locked together as we whispered and moaned into each other’s mouths. I ran my hands down her sides and her back, feeling the muscles as she worked herself along my cock. I touched every one of her vertebrae and grabbed both her butt cheeks in my hands as I reached as far down as I could on her legs. I felt her heavy tits that were providing the food for our baby, even though Kaylene was beginning to eat some mashed up roots on her own. I wanted to be inside Laramie, more than just my fifth limb in her twat. I wanted my spirit to dwell in her—to be linked together forever.
Somewhere along the line as we lay there with our mixed juices flowing out of her and across my balls, I felt another hand on my shoulder and a hug as Theresa put her arm around Laramie. It wasn’t anything sexual, but Theresa just lay there and held Laramie and me with Kaylene tucked in beside. She cooed and kissed at us like we were her little children and I guess we were just then. We finally drifted off to sleep and stayed in that little bundle all night long.
It was near eight in the morning when I got them on the train. I stopped for my first night’s camp about twenty miles north of Greeley. I boiled water and whipped lather to a froth before scraping the whiskers from my face. As I saddled up the next morning and got ready to mount, I told Kyle I was proud of him.
I saw the shadow and heard Redtail’s cry.
The Librarian
“Cole! Cole! You okay?”
Someone was slapping my face and I opened my eyes to the glare of the late July sun on my face. I was sweating something fierce.
“George?” The head ranch hand stopped before he slapped my face again. “Shit! What happened?”
“That’s what I’d like to know. I come out here to relieve you and find you lying here asleep with Buttercup standing a few feet away. This don’t look like a comfy place to nap.”
“Nap? Ow. Oh, my achin’ back. I musta gone to sleep in the saddle and fallen off my horse. What a dude. Every damned bone in my body hurts. What time is it?”
“Three in the afternoon. Shorty come up when your dad came and got Jack. He’s in bad shape. I came ridin’ out here and find you half an hour away from the herd.”
“Three? Damn. Last thing I remember was about half an hour after I rode out, maybe seven hours ago.”
“Well, our schedules are all messed up one way and another. Shorty and I will split the night and you go back out after breakfast. You okay to ride back to camp?”
“Yeah. I don’t really feel like I hit my head or anything. I just… damn I feel like an idiot.”
“Well you deserve that. Get back to camp and get some food and a real sleep before morning.”
And so my summer went. I came down from the upper range in time to spend two nights with Mary Beth before she left for Boulder. It was her junior year at the University of Colorado. One thing was different, though. I’d had a scare. I could remember sitting on my horse and just drifting off to sleep as my spirit headed back in time. So now if I was driving, I kept all the windows rolled up and the radio blasting. I’d slept for seven hours the last time that hawk called. I wasn’t going to risk it while I was driving.
It was my senior year in high school and the year that I’d learn about heartbreak all over again.
I was surprised to see Geneive back in school and not showing any signs of being in a motherly way. I figured that as soon as she had her hands on that guy with the Corvette, she’d get herself pregnant and married. I knew that’s what she wanted. She even said hi to me in the hall one day and then ran off to study with her friends. Well, I was a little relieved that there wasn’t going to be any big hoo-hah when we saw each other. Like Jason would do; just walk away.
I settled into the swing of things and got my school books and Dad still checked with me after chores every night to make sure I was doing my homework. I didn’t have much else to do, so there was no danger of me missing an assignment. I paid attention. Maybe I wasn’t the top student in my class, but I knew how important it was going to be to have decent grades in order to get into college.
The one thing different about this year was that I started going to the library once or twice a week after school. I could spend an hour there and still get home in time to do my chores, have dinner, and do my homework. I had two missions: Find Laramie Wyoming Ranae and Kyle Wardlaw, and figure out what the next target would be for Kyle to get some loot. In fact, I’d decided that whoever he was collecting the lost treasure for didn’t need to have it all. Kyle and Laramie’s descendants deserved to be taken care of. It was a long slow process.
I couldn’t find any record of either Laramie or Kyle in local histories. I went back through a bunch of old newspapers to see if I could find out what happened to them, but there just wasn’t any information out there.
I told Mary Beth in general terms what I was trying to do—mostly about finding lost treasures—and she told me I had to go to ask a librarian. I usually just walked down shelves and pulled every book off to see what was in it.
I started with the high school library and Miss Johnson helped me a bit, showing me where I could get the local paper all the way back to when the Boomerang started in 1881. There were some missing issues in the microfiche, but I just had to find 1890 and read forward. There were also bound copies of the Laramie Republican, which was founded in 1890. I read through or skimmed through all the issues from 1890 to 1900, but never found a mention of either Laramie or Kyle.
So, I started focusing on notices of bank robberies and legends of lost treasures. For the most part, Laramie was a pretty quiet town and was likelier to have a murder than a bank robbing. There were thefts and break-ins, but nothing that amounted to a big enough treasure for Kyle to go after. Miss Johnson suggested that I try the Laramie Public Library after school and see if they had papers from Cheyenne, Casper, and Gillette. I did the same search patterns through everything the library had, but still came up blank.
I did meet a librarian, though.
It was mid-October when I asked the woman at the public library desk if there were any copies or microfilms of the Gillette News-Record from the 1890s. She laughed at me. Quietly. She went to a reference book at a different desk and turned the pages. Then she turned the book to face me and pointed to an entry labeled “Gillette News-Record.” According to the entry, the newspaper began as the Gillette News—in 1904. Well, that was no good.
“What is it you really want to find out?” she asked.
“Well, I was looking to see if there was any news about either of two people who I think lived here in Laramie in the 1890s first. But I’ve been through all the local papers and there’s no record of them. So, I was indulging a secret fantasy to find a buried treasure. Only problem is you can’t find a lost treasure unless you know when and where one was lost. So, I was looking to see if I could spot bank or stage robberies where the money was never recovered, reports of lost mines and that sort of thing. I guess I’ve got too much time on my hands.” I looked at her with my most winning smile. She was only a little older than me. I thought this might be her first job out of college.
“You need a life,” she said. “Don’t you have a girlfriend?” I shook my head. “Sports? Friends? A job?” On the last one I nodded a little.
“I’m a rancher’s son. I’ve got plenty of jobs.”
“Hmm. Well, if you really want to do this, we should go over to the University Library. They’ve got a much bigger historical selection and can get things through the educational lending system that I can’t get here.”
“We?” I asked. She blushed.
“Well, it looks like you need someone who knows her way around a library. I don’t have…” she sighed, “…a life, either. This sounds like fun.”
I arranged with Miss Isabelle Gonzales to go over to the University on Monday after I got out of school.
It was all pretty innocent in the beginning. Isabelle was fun, smart, and dedicated to the search. I’m not sure how she arranged it, but she made herself available to accompany me to the University at least once a week and often called me with things she had discovered. I had a lot of fun with her and she seemed to enjoy my company as well. Going over to the University library so often was part of what got me interested in going to UW instead of following Mary Beth to Boulder.
Well, just before Christmas break, Isabelle and I were walking over to the U Library and she just kind of slipped her hand in mine and we kept walking. I was conscious of that hand perched in mine, I tell you. Isabelle was a pretty girl in spite of the fact that she was maybe six years older than me. I couldn’t believe she would even consider an eighteen-year-old as anything more than a friend. I started for the door of the library and she just kind of pulled me the other direction and we walked out into the cemetery. UW is sort of built around the Greenhill Cemetery where the city’s founders are buried. We walked through the gates and down the Avenue of the Flags.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Well, I thought of another line of research on the names you asked about.” We turned left at the circle and then left again at the next avenue. “There are some amazing records for old cemeteries. This one has been around since the early days of Laramie. Even if a death notice isn’t filed or published in the newspapers, it’s possible for it to be listed in the cemetery records. No, I didn’t find either of the names you asked about. Don’t get your hopes up on that front. But I thought I’d show you what it was like here. Most of the cemetery has pretty good records, but there’s this one section that is spotty. A lot of frontier cemeteries have them. It’s called The Potters Field.” We walked into a grassy area that didn’t have much in the way of headstones. There weren’t even markers at all the graves, and most of them weren’t big enough to have a name.
“What is this?”
“It’s the area of the cemetery where the indigent and unknown are buried. This might be the oldest part of the cemetery. Unfortunately, a lot of the people are still unknown. There are graves, but we don’t know exactly what date or who is in them. It’s pretty old. I thought that if you are still interested in finding information we might check more cemetery records.”
“Yeah. That would be cool. Do we have to visit all of them?”
“No. Most cemeteries have now filed copies of their maps and list of names with the Family History Library in Salt Lake City. I was thinking…” She stopped and pulled me around to look at her. “Shit, Cole. This is awful of me. I’m six years older than you. But I was thinking that if you had a couple days free, we could drive over to Salt Lake City and do some research in the FHL. And maybe, when the library was closed, we could do some research on each other.”
Before I could answer her or even comprehend what she was saying properly, she reached up and grabbed my head so she could pull it down far enough to kiss. The kiss was sweet and passionate and… I guess I’d say it was pleading in a way. I was surprised. I mean, I was eighteen and I’d had plenty of boners thinking about my pretty librarian, but I just figured it was pure fantasy.
“Isabelle? You really want to do something with a kid like me?”
“Cole, you might be in high school, but something about you makes you seem older—like you’ve got more experience than your age would suggest. I know I must seem like an old lady to you and I’m not suggesting you need to date me or anything like that, but it’s been a long time since I was in any kind of a relationship and you’re so nice and we get along so well that I thought if you were interested I’d like to at least have a couple days where we, you know…”
I cut off the sentence with another kiss and pulled her too me. She wrapped her arms around me out there in the cemetery and squeezed so hard I thought she’d break a rib.
“I’d love to sneak off with you for a couple of days,” I said. “Let’s go someplace warm and talk about it, okay?” She nodded and we turned to go.
I slipped and fell.
We’d had a couple inches of snow already, so we couldn’t see all the stones. My boot heel had hit one and slid. Isabelle came down on top of me. We had snow all over us and were laughing and kissing while we struggled to get up. “Okay, who do I owe that little trip to?” I asked, wiping off the stone. It was an old one and when I finally got it clear enough to read, tears sprang to my eyes.
Caitlin Forster d. 1890.
I sat there staring and trying not to cry. The little redheaded dynamo who got off on Kyle’s special treatment. Who bathed him and screamed so loud when she was being eaten that a bouncer came to check on her. Who bled to death after an abortion while I was up in the fucking Big Horn. The reality of it all hit me hard. Caitlin was buried and I’d forced Kyle to head up into the mountains to find Laramie and make love to her. That was in 1890, 105 fucking years ago. They were all dead. My lovers, my daughter, and me—or at least the me I inhabited when I was Kyle Wardlaw.
Isabelle was still laughing and pulled me to my feet, not noticing my tears as anything more that the result of the cold wind. We stumbled out of the cemetery with my arm around her shoulders and headed for the Wyoming Union. Isabelle got us coffee and we sat in a corner so we could plan our little get-away. That’s when I thought of something else that was going to hurt.
“Uh, Isabelle. There might be one problem to getting away together over the holiday. I decided that before I got into anything with another girl, I had to be completely honest with her.”
“You really don’t like me that much, do you?”
“Yes, I really do like you that much. That’s not the problem. Are we okay to just talk and be open without getting all emotional? I mean, yes, it is emotion, but this is difficult for me.”
“You’re gay?”
“Oh, God! I am so not gay and so damned horny… um… sorry. That sort of slipped out. But the very thought of having… special time with you is practically driving me crazy already. I just really need to tell you about this, so please don’t interrupt.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I told you I don’t have a girlfriend and that’s absolutely true. But there’s this girl that I’m in love with. I mean, really, really in love with. We can’t ever be together as a boyfriend and girlfriend or husband and wife, but we promised each other that if we ever got involved with someone else we’d tell that person about us. I can’t be with you unless you know about her.”
“That’s decent of you, I guess. You can’t be boyfriend and girlfriend but you’re in love. Are you lovers?”
“Whenever we can be.”
“So why not… oh God! Your sister?”
“I don’t have a sister. It’s my cousin.”
“Oh, thank God. I’d have been pretty squicked out if it was your sister. A cousin, I can deal with. God! My heart is racing. I can deal with this. I didn’t ask you to marry me. I just want to sit on your face. Oh God! What did I say? I am such a slut. Will she be okay with… if you and I…?”
“Yeah. She’ll be okay with that. Maybe a little jealous, but we agreed that we weren’t going to hold out on that part of our lives. We can’t be with each other, but we’re with each other, if you know what I mean.”
“So, okay. Now that it’s out in the open, what’s the problem?” Isabelle laughed.
“Well, the only problem is that she’s going to be back over Christmas while school is on break and we try to get together as much as possible. I’d be taking off while she’s here and…”
“And available. I got it. So, would there be a problem with right now?”
After I got over being stunned to silence, Isabelle dragged me out of the Union and back to the truck. She gave me directions to her apartment. We practically tumbled through her door once she got it unlocked; our lips were glued together as we stripped off our coats and gloves.
“Cole, we’re a little bit the same as you and your cousin, you know? I mean it might not be illegal, but both my employer and your school would probably frown on you dating the librarian. I’m not a teacher, but I’m still viewed as being a person in authority. I think we’ll have to keep our relationship—whatever it is—kind of quiet. Okay?”
“Right. I think keeping quiet is a good idea.”
Isabelle wasn’t quiet. I guess when I filled her mouth and then filled a condom in her pussy, I wasn’t very quiet either. I lay beside Isabelle fondling and sucking on her big tits. She’s the most generously endowed woman I’ve ever been with in either life. Well, maybe Ellen, but she was big every place. Isabelle was pretty small most places but totally stacked.
“Cole?”
“Yes, Izzy?”
“That’s sweet. But I have a question.”
“Go ahead.”
“Would your… uh… cousin want to join us on a trip to Salt Lake?”
I looked at Isabelle with my mouth open so wide her tit fell out. Was she? Did she?
“Are you making an invitation?”
“I think it could be fun.”
“But you don’t even know her.”
“I know she loves you. That’s a pretty good recommendation in my book.”
“I guess we’ll find out next week. Let’s meet before we actually leave.”
We did meet. Mary Beth loved Izzy. Izzy loved Mary Beth. I was getting love from both sides. But the trip to Salt Lake did have a purpose and I was determined to get something accomplished besides wild sex. We didn’t find anything on Laramie or Kyle in cemetery records or in the fifty some family Bibles we examined. But I found a whole bunch of clues to lost treasures. I made a list and photocopied all the relevant information on them that I could find. One of them would be happening in December 1891. It would be so cool to be there when Kyle picked the box of the Wells Fargo payroll that two low-life brothers stole from a stage. The brothers bought it in a gunfight with the sheriff down near Denver. The strongbox was never recovered.
Sadly, Redtail didn’t screech before spring.
I took Isabelle with me when I went to Boulder over spring break. I thought it was a little strange that my parents never asked anymore if I was spending time with Mary Beth. I don’t think they even knew about Isabelle. The three of us were lying in a tangle in Mary Beth’s bed when she asked the big question.
“Izzy, I have to ask you something because I know Cole won’t.”
“What is it MB? You know I’ll tell you anything.”
“Sweetheart, is this going to last? I’m starting to develop feelings for you that I never thought I’d have for a woman. I just figured I’d come along for the ride, you know?”
“Don’t you mean ride along for the come?” I asked. I got hit from both sides.
“Anyway. Do you have feelings for Cole and me?” Mary Beth asked.
“Oh honey, I do!” Izzy answered. “But do I think this is the be-all and end-all? Do I think we’ll be together in ten years, living together and playing three-way house? God, I kinda wish. It’s wonderful right now, but you’re still in college and Cole’s still in high school. How do any of us know what’s going to happen next? With this lousy economy, the library budgets are being cut and I could end up having to move in order to get a job. I know you two have a future on the ranch with whoever you choose, but I don’t know if I’ve got a ranching gene. I wouldn’t mind reading about it, but doing it? Cole, you’ve always been honest with me and I’m going to be the same with you. I’ve been circulating my resume. Laramie Public Library isn’t exactly the top of the line for librarians. I even put an application in at the FHL when we were in Salt Lake City.”
I squeezed both ladies tightly.
“You don’t have to make any commitments, Izzy,” I said. “I am amazed every time I’m with you that you even consider being with a kid like me. Of course, I’m amazed that Mary Beth is as in love with me as I am with her. Let’s just enjoy what we’ve got while we’ve got it. I’m headed back up on the high range in a couple months and I still have a dozen condoms left. What am I gonna do with them up there?”
Fortunately, I never had to find out.
Izzy and I kept seeing each other and even made another weekend trip over to Salt Lake City to do more research on lost treasure. I found a dozen stories that I felt were within the range of where Kyle would be sent. So far, he’d been only in Montana, Utah, Wyoming, and Colorado. I wasn’t sure how far Despain would send Kyle. I’d found likely prospects as far as northern Nevada, Utah, Oregon, and even one in California. I recorded them all in a notebook with the necessary information, including hand-drawing maps and plotting things out on old maps that showed different landmarks than where the Interstate goes through.
Twice a week I’d go to Izzy’s apartment after school and after I showed her my newest maps, we’d make love. Izzy was fun and an enthusiastic lover. But I think we both started feeling that we weren’t really there for each other without Mary Beth. As the spring wore on, our romance ran down. It was just a couple weeks before graduation when Izzy called it quits.
“Hey! MB will be home in a few days. Do you want us to come over here?”
“That’s nice, Cole.”
“That’s nice? Did you hear what I said?”
“Uh… yeah. Cole, do you love me?”
“Sure, I do, Izzy.”
“No, Cole. Do you love me like you love Mary Beth?”
Shit. Now I had to figure out what the degrees of love were. No, I didn’t love Izzy like I loved Mary Beth, but I didn’t love Mary Beth like I loved Laramie, either. The only difference was Mary Beth didn’t know about Laramie, didn’t share a bed with the two of us, and Laramie probably didn’t like girls all that much. At least not as much as Izzy did.
“Isn’t it enough to know I love you without comparing?” I asked.
“It should be. But I guess that’s what’s wrong, Cole. It should be but it isn’t. I know you’re still in high school, but you are so sure about your life that I expect you to be sure about me, too. But you aren’t. And I guess I’m not sure about us either.”
“What are you saying, Isabelle? Are you breaking up with us?”
“See? You didn’t even ask if I was breaking up with you. You asked about us—you and Mary Beth. This sharing has been fun, but I want somebody who is just mine. So, yes, Cole. We’re breaking up. However, many you want to include in that. I took a job in Denver this week and I’m moving the first of June. I’m sorry, but… I guess you better go now.”
I went. What else was I supposed to do? I wondered what Mary Beth would say when she got home and found out we’d been dumped.
I didn’t wait for her to come home. I called her that night. It was fairer that way. And besides, when I cried she cried with me.
It’s comforting, you know, to have someone to cry with. I didn’t understand that at first.
I had one more stop I was going to make that afternoon before I headed home. I bought some flowers at Safeway and drove over to the cemetery. The snow was gone and I brought a little stand to put the flowers in. It was six months ago that I discovered the little marker in the Potters Field. I’d been back once a month all winter and spring. I’d put a little cross up that I could stand in the ground so I could find the place again. I thought that if I could get a little money ahead, I’d try to buy a bigger stone for her grave.
I found the cross I’d erected and swept away the dirt and the grass from the flat marker. I made sure I cleared the whole thing. It was the only marker in the whole Potters Field that looked cared for. I jammed the planter spike into the ground at her head and put the flowers in it. Yeah, they’d be dead in a few days. Just like Caitlin. I sat there in the dark and shone my flashlight on her marker and felt tears on my cheeks. I guess tears for losing Izzy and tears for Caitlin, both.
I heard Redtail shriek and there I was in the middle of July, a year after she died, looking out of Kyle’s eyes at the marker he placed and the flower he laid on her grave. It was just a couple of wild flowers, but she was a wild girl. There were tears in both our eyes when I heard the call again.
I thought a lot about grief and dying those days. Caitlin was the first lover—the first person who was really close to me—that died. And I couldn’t even talk to anyone about her. I’d got from Kyle’s memories that he’d ordered the stone for Caitlin’s grave in the Potters Field. I’d let him know I was proud of him and I shared having found her stone. I think he was pleased we could weep together.
It had been nearly a year since my last trip into the past. It had all become truly real to me when I found the initials on that old Douglas Fir that I kept going to visit whenever I could get away from camp. And then the discovery of Caitlin’s stone just made me want to go back again as soon as possible. I was despairing of ever getting back to my Laramie.
When I’d last been transported into Kyle, the first thing I did was kill a man. Yeah, it was self-defense, but that didn’t matter to Kyle. He’d have killed him before the guy had a chance if I hadn’t interrupted him. Then there was the death of my relationship with Izzy. Mary Beth was pretty sad about it, but didn’t let it dampen her fires for me. I don’t know what my folks thought about me disappearing all the time. They knew I’d had a girlfriend break-up, but I’d never introduced them to Izzy.
And that whole grief thing. Just sharing those few moments over Caitlin’s grave with Kyle made me see that maybe he wasn’t such a bad guy after all. He was staying clear of Laramie and Theresa in town. I figured he was in over his head with Cal Despain, though, and I aimed to get him out of that relationship if I could. I think maybe Kyle romanticized Caitlin more than he would have if I hadn’t been popping in. He saw what I had with Laramie and wanted to believe he’d had that with Caitlin, too. I suppose he felt some of my residual emotions.
Well, hell. What happens when I die? Laramie, Theresa, Kyle—even Kaylene—they all lived a long time ago. They ain’t gonna mourn for me when I go. Do you think I’ll see ’em when I die? Is that what heaven is supposed to be? I reckon like the preacher says, if they do see me it will be across a deep abyss that no one can cross. That’ll be my hell.
I just gotta decide when I’m gonna meet it.
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