Redtail
9 Engaging the Enemy
SOMETIMES I THINK I’d give anything for a normal life. You know. One where I grew up, married my high school sweetheart, lived on the ranch inherited from my father, and raised half a dozen kids who gave me grandkids before I was too old to recognize them. At the same time, I would never trade my life with Laramie, the love I experienced with Kat, my cousin’s passion and commitment, or the unbelievable young woman who consented to be my bride.
You know, when I got home I found out more about her stalker on campus. That sweet woman had taken a flower to Caitlin’s grave for me. She’d done that because she knew how much it meant to me to remember that sixteen-year-old whore who died in 1890. It might have been my baby she was aborting. Well, Kyle’s. We were given to understand that she was already pregnant the first time I rode along. But she was a sweet girl who genuinely cared for Kyle, and I believe he had deep feelings for her. To think that Ashley had put herself in danger to make my remembrance to Caitlin for me! How can you ever love someone enough when she shows that kind of compassion?
I can honestly say I gave my heart to Ashley. And I’m glad we got married when we did.
Wedded
Everything happened the last weekend of September. Saturday after we got home from Salem, I took Ashley into town and we chose a simple wedding set. As soon as the clerk handed me the box, I got down on my knee.
“Ashley Kay Brewer, I love you. You are the woman I want to spend my life with. Will you marry me?”
“Cole!” She grinned and cried at the same time. “Yes. Oh God, yes!” I slipped the engagement ring on her finger. There was a bit of applause from the jewelers. When we left the store, Ashley led me down the street to another store. She pointed out another simple wedding set and I bought that one, too. The jeweler could clearly see the ring on Ashley’s hand, so he was a little confused but he didn’t refuse the sale. We rushed home to show Mary Beth.
“It’s so pretty!” Mary Beth said hugging Ashley. I wrapped my arms around them and Ashley told her how I’d got down on my knee in the store to propose. Mary Beth was happy for us, but there was a sparkle of tears in her eyes. She and I couldn’t marry. She loved Ashley and wanted us to be happy. But there was still just a little sadness around the edges.
When we got ready for bed that night, Ashley took care to undress Mary Beth herself. The girls were always loving with each other, though both were clear that they preferred what was between my legs to what was between either of theirs. So, I think Mary Beth was a bit surprised at how lovingly Ashley removed her boots, her shirt, her bra, her jeans, and her panties. Mary Beth kept glancing at me, but I sat back in the side chair as I slowly undressed and watched my two princesses.
When Mary Beth and Ashley were both undressed, Ashley sat Mary Beth on the edge of the bed and knelt in front of her. Mary Beth looked a little worried as Ashley had never made a move that was so suggestive. But it wasn’t what Mary Beth might have thought.
“Mary Beth, we live in Wyoming. I came here from Colorado and I’m proud to call this my home now. I have met and loved not just one, but two wonderful people. But Wyoming law says you can’t marry your first cousin. And even though it was the first place in the country to give women the right to vote, it won’t let them marry each other. But Cole and I both love you. I know that we each love each other differently, but it’s love just the same. You all taught me that. Mary Beth, even though neither of us can marry you, will you stay with us forever and love us till death do us part?” With that, Ashley slipped the second engagement ring off her finger and placed it on Mary Beth’s. I joined Ashley on my knees in front of Mary Beth, took the hand from Ashley and kissed each finger. I turned it over and kissed her palm. Mary Beth was crying and nodding her head and sniffling. When Ashley moved up to the bed to hold her and kiss her, MB’s legs sort of parted in front of me and being who I am, I sort of worked my way up there until I found that honeyed slit where my tongue had something to do.
Ashley’s parents showed up on Wednesday before the wedding. I’d met them before, both at Christmas last year and again when they came out with Ashley’s horse last spring. The first thing her dad did was call the two of us aside.
“Now we’ve been expecting the two of you to get married ever since we came out here last spring, but what’s the hurry? Ashley, are you pregnant?” We laughed then got serious again.
“No Daddy, I’m not pregnant, but I will be as soon as I get out of school and convince this guy to do the job. There’s a lot happening out here and we are in the middle of it. We need each other and we need to be together for this.”
“I’m sorry about your dad, Cole. I thought he was a fine man. That’s not what’s driving you to this, is it?”
“No sir. I admit that Dad’s passing has made me aware of exactly how vulnerable we all are and how fragile life is. And I don’t want to waste a minute of it. But I want Ashley here by my side as my partner in running this ranch. I promise I’ll support her in school and we’ll both finish, though we might not be able to do it as quickly as we’d have liked. This is a critical time and an important decision for us.”
“Support her? I know you must have inherited the ranch, but are you able to make that commitment?”
“Yes. I think you’ll find I have adequate resources to do whatever is necessary, including pay for the rest of her education, if you’d like.”
“That’s not necessary and I wouldn’t ask it of you. I’m a father. I just want what’s best for my daughter.”
“Mr. Brewer, on that account, your goals and my goals are in perfect sync!”
“It’s Chet, Cole. You’re going to be a fine son-in-law. Welcome to the family.”
That wasn’t the end of it, of course. Mary Beth and Ashley had all three moms tied up with wedding plans and multiple trips into town for last minute needs. I needed to make sure Chet Brewer knew exactly what was happening and I needed Angus with me.
“Dad and I used to come out here occasionally to have a cigar,” I said as I led Chet and Angus to the ruined stone chimney that I recognized now as the remains of the log cabin Kyle built for Laramie. “Care to join me?” I asked offering them one of Dad’s best. They accepted and we took a few minutes to cut them and light up. Well, Angus bit his off like Dad had. They’d both agreed they needed to stop smoking when Dad was told his lungs couldn’t take it anymore.
“It’s nice to get out here away from all those women for a while,” Chet laughed. Angus nodded and I grunted.
“You okay, Cole?” Angus asked.
“I’m nervous as a bronc rider,” I said.
“Oh, she’s not gonna be that hard on you,” Chet laughed. “And if she is, I don’t want to know about it.”
“It’s uh… It’s not that, Chet. It’s you all I’m nervous about.”
“I thought we covered that.”
“There’s a few pieces you don’t know about yet and to be fair, you need to know this.” I told him what was happening in the county with the prices of beef and the condition of the local ranchers.
“How are you going to survive that?” he asked.
“First, we’re going to buy all the hay you can ship up here,” I laughed. “I have the resources to outlast the downturn. But we’re going to be targeted by the bad guys and I don’t want Ashley in a position where she isn’t protected. We suspect that Dad’s accident wasn’t just an accident.”
“Maybe I should take her back to Colorado with me. Are you putting my daughter in danger?”
“We’re all in danger, Chet,” Angus broke in. “I agree with Cole that this is one of the best ways to keep her out of danger. We’ve got a good-sized clan here.”
“Actually, that’s something else I need to tell you, sir.” I don’t know why I got all formal with him again, but his threat to take Ashley back to Colorado really got to me. “Ashley is already one-third owner of the Alexander Bell Cattle Company. That partnership, which includes Mary Beth and me, owns both the Alexander ranch and the Bell ranch, and all the nearly 4,000 head of cattle here.”
“Whoa! Angus? You don’t own your ranch?”
“I sold to Mary Beth and Cole last winter when they bailed us out. He’s telling you the truth, Chet. He has the resources to last and we’ll all be here to help.”
“Let’s see. You and Mary Beth formed a partnership and bought the ranch. Then you made Ashley a one-third owner in it as well?” Chet asked. “How does Mary Beth feel about giving up a third of her family homestead to my daughter?”
“That’s another bit of what I need to tell you, Chet.” I took a deep breath. “Mary Beth lives with Ashley and me. We have a three-way partnership that is more than just a business relationship. I hope you’ll be able to accept Mary Beth along with me, just as Angus accepted both Ashley and me.”
Chet stood up. He turned toward me and started to speak but turned toward Angus and started again. Then he walked away. He didn’t go far—just to the other side of the stone chimney. Then he turned back and flopped himself down on his log seat. He let out a big sigh.
“Celia already knows about this, doesn’t she?” he said, referring to his wife.
“I was forbidden to discuss it with you before Ashley had talked to her.”
“Yeah. I figured it was just wedding stuff or money that she was talking about when she made me promise not to get mad when I talked to you today. I never imagined this.” We sat there in silence a few minutes, puffing on our cigars. Angus pulled out a hip flask and handed it to Chet who took a pull and handed it on absently to me. I took a little slug of Wyoming Whiskey and handed it back to Angus. “You remember when I said that if she was that hard on you I didn’t want to know about it?” he asked me. I nodded. “Well this is something else I don’t want to know any more about. You’ll all three be welcome in our home and we will never say a thing about it, but I really don’t want to know any more. Okay?” I nodded again. Angus handed him the flask again and we passed the rest of the hour discussing our strategies for surviving the cattle depression.
And then it was Saturday and I stood with Uncle Angus beside me in the living room and watched Mary Beth come in from the dining room and take her place as maid of honor. The family was all standing because we didn’t try to put chairs in any order, but when Ashley came through those doors there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. Her dress was knee-length linen with a single row of buttons on the left that went from her collar to her tiny waist along a center placket with ruffled edges. It was topped by a western yoke. The skirt was full and, with the number of petticoats she had under it, it looked like she was ready to go dancing. Especially when my eyes got down to those high-heeled boots.
But I could only spare a moment to look at her pretty legs. Her face was glowing. Her blonde hair hung in ringlets beneath the brim of her white Stetson. Those sparkling eyes, just took my breath away. I hardly noticed her father walking with her until he placed her hand in mine.
“Take good care of her, son,” he said. “You’re not the only one who loves her.”
I looked into those beautiful eyes for the whole ten minutes it took the preacher to bless our rings and have us repeat our vows. When he said I could kiss the bride, I sure did, right there in front of God and everybody. I sure wished Dad was there to be with us. And I thought, why not? I bet the whole family is here. See what I got, Dad? Theresa, I did it. I married her. Laramie, doesn’t she remind you of Kat? They were all there and they were all happy.
Early Sunday morning, Ashley’s brother took us to the airport. He had to catch a flight home so we were on the first leg from Laramie to Denver together. It was going to take almost as long to get from Laramie to Salem by flying as it did driving. But Ashley and I were on our honeymoon, so we booked a couple nights in a fancy hotel in Portland and then Phil had a car pick us up for our business meetings in Salem. We went back to Portland the next day and enjoyed three more nights of loving before we faced the flights home. It was sweet.
Meantime, Mary Beth got to experience firsthand what all the ranchers in the county did that Sunday afternoon. A man knocked on her door after they got home from church and Sunday dinner that Mary Beth took her parents, my mom, and the Brewers to. It was timing on her part to be sure we’d made it to Portland. Angus answered the door.
“Mr. Alexander, I represent a company interested in purchasing your cattle at premium prices. May I speak with you?”
“Never hurts to listen,” he said, letting the man into the living room. “Mary Beth, you need to come listen to this.”
“Actually, Mr. Alexander, in order to proceed with our discussion, I must speak to you under a signed confidentiality agreement. You should really not have family members present.”
“Well, in that case, I’ll be leaving.”
“Wait, sir.”
“No, you don’t understand. I consigned all my cattle and ownership of the ranch to my daughter’s new partnership, Alexander Bell Cattle Company. She owns this ranch and the Bell ranch next door. Technically, she is the person you need to have sign your paper and I’ll leave unless she wants me to stick around.”
“Oh. Ms. Alexander? I’m Howard Case. You have partners in this business venture?”
“Yes, but they are on their honeymoon. If you have a proposition to make, I’m the one you need to talk to. I’ll ask my father to also sign your confidentiality agreement if he will stay here.”
“And are you authorized to make agreements on the part of the partnership?”
“I am, Mr. Case. Let us take a look at this agreement.” Angus sat with his daughter and looked over the confidentiality agreement.
“This provides some pretty stiff penalties for breaking this agreement,” he said.
“That is why we are trying to keep the number of people exposed to this conversation to a minimum. This is a very sensitive matter.” Angus and Mary Beth signed the agreement, MB on behalf of the partnership so she could discuss it with her partners.
“Very well,” said Mr. Case. “I represent Gold Watch Cattle Company. We are a new company that was created by a prestigious think tank in Chicago. You might recognize this name. Our investors include some of the wealthiest men in America. Our focus has been on international trade and the effect of one country dumping products on the international market in an effort to destroy the other’s economy—essentially, economic warfare. You can imagine that this could be pretty serious.”
“And that led you to create a Cattle Company?” Mary Beth asked.
“In a way. We’ve often seen the cycle as it plays out, but studying and observing are only beneficial if they lead to action. In this instance, we have decided to take action.”
“Against what?”
“We believe a foreign influence is flooding the Albany County market with cheap beef. This seems to be a contained effort and is unlikely to affect the commodities market in general, but could have devastating effects on the economy of this county. You may have noticed both a drop in beef prices and a scarcity of winter food.”
“Who hasn’t noticed that? We’ll probably cut our losses and sell out if the price doesn’t pick up by mid-October.” Angus flinched. This was news to him, but he knew that Cole had the resources to start over if necessary.
“We don’t want you to do that. How many head are we talking about?”
“We have 2,537 tagged for market plus our heifers and calves for next year.”
“We would like to place a guaranteed option on your marketable beef of $2.00 per pound on the hoof. One-third payable in January, one-third in February, and one-third in March. By March, your young stock should be ready for summer pastures and you’ll be able to buy more stock for the next season.”
“We were getting $2.05 in August.”
“Yes, but the market price in this county is now $1.80 and falling. We believe $2.00 is a fair offer.”
“But if the market picks up in January, then we’d be out our profit.” Mary Beth was making Case work for his sale. She tried to keep her smirk hidden.
“You will notice this clause,” he said. “The guaranteed option is at $2.00 per pound or market price, whichever is higher. You have no downside.”
“This sounds too good to be true. Do you work for Joe Teini.”
“Ma’am, we believe Joe Teini is being used as the funnel for cheap beef in this county. He has offered 5,000 head a week at a nickel below market since the end of August. And he still seems to have the same 50,000 head on his ranch. He is the enemy. That is why it is so critical that this offer and these terms do not get out. Our intent is to cripple this foreign influencer on the open market so that they cannot sustain their losses and withdraw.”
“Well, there’s just one little problem. Your offer is for live cows and all ours will be dead by first snowfall. We can’t get feed or hay.”
“Since we would effectively own all your cattle, we wouldn’t want that to happen. We will ship in feed monthly to supply your needs.”
“This is expensive. There’s no local feed and it costs a dime a pound more to ship from Omaha. Why are you guys doing this?”
“Ms. Alexander, there are some men who have grown very wealthy in this world through other people’s labor. Their wealth is legitimate, but it is really more than they and their heirs combined could ever spend. So, they give to research, health, science, and any other way they can find to better humanity through their good fortune. The think tank has identified this as a way to support an economy in a new and untried way. Let me assure you that we will also have inspectors visit with every delivery of feed to ensure that you are complying with the terms of the agreement and that our cattle are healthy and accounted for.”
“Sounds like you have everything thought of. Would you excuse me while I phone my partners? They should have arrived at their hotel by now and I might catch them before they are indisposed.”
Of course, Ashley and I were waiting for her call. Mary Beth told us all about the presentation and that any rancher in the county would be a fool to pass it up. I agreed. I was looking forward to seeing the numbers on Wednesday when we got to Phil’s office. We kept Mary Beth on the phone and Mr. Case stewing for half an hour. Most of that time, Ashley and I spent teasing MB about what we were doing to each other and would do to her when we got home. Mary Beth was flushed when she returned to Mr. Case.
“My partners have authorized me to sign the agreement,” Mary Beth said. “You understand that this covers all the cattle from both the former Alexander Ranch and the former Bell Ranch next door, correct?” He nodded. “Then it looks like we need to get some papers signed and the inventory done.”
I wasn’t sure exactly how he’d done it, but Phil had placed 183 agents in Albany County at once. They came from different directions in different makes and models of cars, none of which were linked to the company. They made simultaneous presentations to all the ranchers in the county but two. One was Joe Teini and one was in the hospital. Two ranchers were getting ready to cut their losses and retire by selling their ranches to Joe. They accepted a cash offer of exactly twice what Joe had made and on Monday the deeds were transferred at the County Recorder’s office. One stubborn old guy said he’d never taken charity from anyone and he was determined to fight this on his own and Joe Teini and Gold Watch Cattle Company could both be damned. He agreed, however, that he would keep the terms of the confidentiality agreement.
By eight o’clock Sunday evening, the only agents left in the county were the two closing on property the next day. Gold Watch Cattle Company effectively owned over 120,000 head of cattle. Now if we could just keep it quiet until Joe Teini gave up.
That wasn’t to be. Suddenly no one would talk to Joe about buying out their ranches and no one was putting cattle on the market except Joe. By November, the price of beef in Albany County was down to just over $1.50 a pound and our observers noticed that Joe’s herd was finally beginning to dwindle. Joe didn’t like that.
On November fifth, Harmon Hayes’ house and barn were burned and seven hundred head of cattle were killed. Harmon and his wife died in the fire.
It was the beginning of the second Wyoming Range War.
Gold Watch Cattle Company hired armed guards for every ranch in the County, including ours. Since we had two homesteads, we had double the guards. What nobody knew was that we also had a small army camped in the foothills. The next attack, though, wasn’t on a ranch. Thanksgiving weekend, three hay trucks were firebombed as they crossed the county line in three separate locations. As it happened, a deputy’s car was approaching each of the locations at the same time and flagged all the drivers over and got them out of their trucks before the tanks exploded. There was no doubt in our minds that Joe was using the Sheriff’s office as enforcers. They ticketed the drivers for unlicensed transport of flammable goods.
We responded by putting a tail on every County Mounty. Two deputies resigned and left the county. The county prosecutor opened an investigation into the increased number of ‘accidents’ that were occurring and complaints about the Sheriff’s Office responsiveness. It looked like a stand-off because neither side could openly declare itself. I was going through money—or Gold Watch Trust was—at the alarming rate of close to a million dollars a week. Phil assured me that we could afford it and Phile talked to me to tell me that’s what he collected the money to do. We just tried to keep a low profile while we kept ranchers from going belly-up.
Christmas Eve. Silent night, holy night. I’d just come in from the barn handing out bonuses and wishing all the hands a Merry Christmas before they took off for the day. I was changing clothes for dinner when a rifle bullet tore through my bedroom window. It looked like Joe had figured out that I was the enemy and was firing a warning shot.
I stared out the broken bedroom window—daring the son of a bitch to shoot again. Instead, a shadow flicked across the opening and I heard the call I always waited for but never expected.
Traveling: Spirits of the Land
I was disoriented, not finding myself with Laramie. The room seemed to be empty. I stretched my senses and realized I was in what would eventually become my office. There was the stone fireplace, though the absence of a fire let me know it was summer. Laramie’s bed was still in the room, but there was a desk there, too. I sensed the presence of something pulling at me—something that was always a part of Kyle. On a hat tree in the corner hung my guns. They called to me as much as if they were a part of my soul.
I was happy to be near them and to find they had been kept clean and ready in my leathers. I could feel the fresh ammunition in them, though something told me they hadn’t been fired recently. I hadn’t even known that Laramie kept the guns. I assumed they’d been buried with Kyle’s body. There was something soothing about having them here where they could protect her.
Protection. That was why I was here. I had to protect my family. But I had no body. What good would my guns do me?
I heard gunfire at a distance. Doors were slamming and there were footsteps in the house. People were shouting, inside and out. The door to Laramie’s room flew open, but it wasn’t Laramie who entered. It was an old man, breathing so hard that I thought he’d collapse on the spot. He looked wildly around the room until his eyes lit on my Smith & Wessons.
“I know you’re still here, Kyle,” he said as he approached the hat-tree. “I know you watch over them—us—all. I’m not as much a man as you were, but I love Kat. And I’ll die to save her and Artie and Bonnie. And Laramie and Kaylene, too. We’re all family and I’ll fight for them now.” My awareness put it together. This was Arthur Alexander, the man who gave his name to my maternal line and to Mary Beth. He had to be near seventy. He broke down wheezing and coughing as he reached for my gun belts. “You got to help me, Kyle,” he continued. “I don’t know how to do this. Help me save them.” As soon as he touched my guns, I flowed up into him and wrapped myself around his old body.
This was different than any time I’d been back. I couldn’t read his thoughts because I wasn’t inside his mind. I wasn’t dreaming him because I could feel every aching pain in his old body. What I understood was that our wives and children were in danger and Arthur Alexander was asking for my help to save them. That was a call stronger than that of Redtail. I just took control. I could hear him sigh as I moved his hands and fastened the buckles. I cracked his old arthritic knuckles ignoring his winces of pain. I released the safety straps, straightened the old man’s back and walked out of the room.
“Artie!” I commanded as I walked to the front of the house. “Take the women to the back room and stay low. Put out the lights. Here.” I handed him the shotgun that hung above the mantle. “Anything comes through that door, kill it.”
“Arthur?” Kat said as Artie responded to my command and began hustling the women to the back of the house.
“Kat, never forget I love you and our children. Never forget.” I wasn’t sure if that was me or Arthur speaking. I gave her a quick kiss and a gentle shove toward the back of the house. Kat’s daughter Bonnie and my Kaylene followed. Laramie paused and looked me in the eye.
“Be careful, Kyle,” she whispered. “We all love you.” She always knew. I nodded and opened the front door.
Six riders were circling their horses and parading around in front of the house firing guns into the air. It took a minute before they realized I was standing on the porch.
“Look heah!” one shouted. “Arthur’s come out to give us numbers. Who gets first choice, Arthur? I already decided I’m gonna fuck the Indian girl. She owns this spread and I figure that’ll make it mine.”
“Grant,” Arthur’s voice croaked. I took over.
“Grant Slocum! You get you and your boys off my property and stay away from my women.”
“Don’t you talk big now, Arthur? You don’t understand the way things are. You’re an old man. Hell, I tell you what. When you die, I’ll take your little wife along with the others. And I figure now you’re likely to die tonight.”
“I’ve warned you, Grant. Go now or die.” There must have been something about the way I was talking or the way I stood that let the horseman know I was serious. He hesitated a minute then holstered his gun and turned his horse so his gun hand faced me.
“I give you a fair chance. You coulda died an ol’ man, Arthur,” he said. “Well, hell, I guess you are an old man so dying won’t be that tough.”
His hand went for his gun. His shot rang out an echo of my own and his bullet raised dust in the ground at his horse’s feet as his chest blossomed in blood. He fell back from his saddle. I saw other guns turning to bear and my left hand took two as the right dropped two more. In a heartbeat, five riders fell from their saddles and one stood stock still with his hands raised in the air.
“Don’t shoot me, Arthur. I didn’t want to come. You know how Grant threatens people. Don’t kill me in cold blood, Arthur. I’ll go and never come back.”
“Bill Towson,” Arthur said softly.
“Bill!” I hollered. “You ride hell-bent for leather back where you came from. This ground is forever protected. Even if I am dead and buried, I will be here to protect my women and my land. Ride out of here. Warn everyone you see. The spirits of this land do not rest. And we are deadly when we hunt.”
Bill turned his horse and spurred him to a gallop away from the house leaving the carnage behind him. I heard the door bang open as Kat’s voice screamed, “Arthur.” There was nothing I could do to keep the old man from collapsing on the porch in her arms. I supported him as well as I could and spoke to him alone.
“You are a brave man, grandfather.”
“You know as well as I that my blood does not run in your veins,” he said to me. I knew his lips were moving, but I thought no one else could hear.
“The spirit that runs in our descendants is stronger than the blood. I am proud to call you my ancestor and my friend.”
“Show me the way, Kyle.” I saw his spirit pulling away from his body. “Goodbye, Kat. I have always loved you and our children. Raise them well.” Then he was standing before me as a young man. A young woman came to meet him—his first wife, I understood.
“You did well, Arthur. Don’t worry, we’ll meet them again.” She held out her hand to him.
“Rose. You still remember me.”
“How could I ever forget?”
They turned and walked away, but I heard him clearly as he said, “We’ll be waiting when you come.”
“Art? Art! He’s gone,” Kat wailed.
“Pa?” Artie wasn’t looking at his dead father. His eyes were searching around him. I reached out with my mind and hugged him.
“I’m here. I love you,” I said. In a moment, I had all my family in the arms of my mind as they knelt over Arthur Alexander’s body. To each I whispered, “I’m here. I love you.”
Laramie lifted her head. “I love you, Kyle. I dream of you every night. I knew you would be here in our time of need.”
“I love you, Papa,” Kaylene whispered. “Thank you.”
“You helped a brave man, Kyle,” Kat whispered. “I never stopped loving you. Thank you.”
Bonnie looked uncertain, but I just hugged her and Artie as well and said, “Always remember what a brave man your father was.”
Then I heard Redtail.
War
Ashley raced into the room to find me standing in front of the window just seconds after the shot. She dove at me and took me to the floor with her, but no more shots were fired. I could hear Mary Beth shouting into her phone as she talked to the 911 operator. “Shot through the bedroom window. Cole! How bad, Ashley? Send an ambulance.” I raised a hand and waved.
“No ambulance. He missed. Nobody’s needed,” I said. Mary Beth sobbed into the phone and relayed the message. She was assured that help was on the way and to stay away from the windows. We crawled out of the room, though I doubted there would be any more shots. I hadn’t been visible when the first one was fired. It wasn’t aimed at me, but rather at my bed.
It was odd that Sheriff Teini was in Centennial on patrol when I called in the report. He showed up at the house fifteen minutes later.
“Sheriff,” I said as I let him in. “Didn’t expect the boss to show up. Usually there are just deputies around.”
“Christmas Eve. At least one deputy gets the night off to be with his family.”
“How kind of you.”
I showed him the broken window. He made a production of tracing the trajectory, finding the tear in the foot of the mattress, and pointing up toward the ridge.
“High caliber from a long way away. Could have done a lot of damage to a person in the room.” He pulled out a knife and cut into my mattress to pull out the slug. “Well, no harm done. It looks like someone was just trying to send you a message.” He stuck the slug in his shirt pocket while I watched.
“So, what do you plan to do, Sheriff?” I asked.
“Well, there’s not much we can do tonight. Tomorrow in daylight we might be able to send a team up there to look for tracks. No way we could get up there to hunt a man at night, though. He’ll be long gone, of course. Be a shame to spoil people’s Christmas with a fruitless manhunt.”
“It’s a hard place to be in winter,” I said. “We’ll probably find his bones when we drive cattle up to the range this spring. Wild animals can get really hungry in the winter.”
“You still figure you’ll be in the cattle business? Seems like a dangerous profession.” I itched to have my guns in my hands.
“How about you, Joe? How long can you last? January? February? You’re eating up what you have.”
“Why don’t you ever look me in the eye, Cole? Afraid I’ll recognize you?” I looked him square in the eye and we held it. He found what he was expecting. I found someone scared. “It was a dirty trick of you to steal my treasure.”
“I died too young to do much of anything. You sure it wasn’t Cal Despain when you weren’t there? He never struck me as too trustworthy.”
“I found his saddle and his boots with a skeleton and the remnants of a treasure that should have made me a king. I want the rest of it now, Kyle Wardlaw. I won’t rest until I have it.” I shook my head. If he’d never been back, I wasn’t revealing that I’d continued to travel.
“I didn’t live all Kyle’s life, Joe. I was only there for a few fun bits. Just like you. It was fun while it lasted but it’s over. I once saw two men shoot it out with each other until they each killed the other with their last bullet. Is that what you want, Joe? We’re running out of ammunition. Bag it. There’s no more treasure to be found. You can’t hold out long enough to make me sell, or any of the others either. You’re just wasting what you’ve got.”
“I can’t quit. It’s my life.” He turned to go but hesitated. “You be careful out there, Cole. You wouldn’t want that pretty young bride of yours to be a pretty young widow.”
I grabbed Joe’s arm and spun him around to face me. The words echoed in my mind like generations of Bells and Alexanders using my voice.
“This ground is forever protected. Even if I am dead and buried, I will be here to protect my women and my land. Ride out of here. Warn everyone you see. The spirits of this land do not rest. And we are deadly when we hunt.”
Joe’s head popped up to look at me in horror as he backed out the door and left the house, taking the bullet from our torn mattress with him. There was never an official report filed.
I looked out the window when I saw two flashes of light up higher on the ridge. There was darkness for a minute and then the two flashes again. I went down to my office in time to meet my security chief coming in from the back.
“The threat’s been eliminated, Mr. Bell.” I nodded and he left.
No, the shooter had been eliminated. Not the threat.
Joe Teini had to die.
I wondered where Kyle’s guns were now. I’m not really a violent man but if I had been Kyle, Joe Teini wouldn’t have walked out of my bedroom alive. Hell, the times I had control of Kyle’s gun hand weren’t legendary. We’d finally ended up dead. But I’d killed seven men, including just taking control of Arthur Alexander’s body and shooting down five who threatened our families. I couldn’t tell one of my ‘soldiers’ to go off Joe Teini. If I did that, I’d be the same as him. But he’d threatened my family and I was by-god going to protect them. My hand reflexively clenched as though I had the Smith & Wessons at my side.
Mom moved in with Angus and Lily, back to the same room she’d had when she grew up next to Dad. By New Year’s I had reinforced the master bedroom wall with a double coat of fiberglass and ¾” plywood paneling. It wouldn’t stop a high-powered bullet, but it would slow it down. For the time-being I bolted a sheet of ¼” steel over the window. No one could see whether a light had come on in the room. I’d make it pretty when this war was over. We moved my king-size bed with a new mattress into the master bedroom. Mary Beth moved the rest of her things in with Ashley and me. It was funny. It was her room at the Alexander’s that Mom moved back to. Mary Beth hadn’t slept in it in months. There was little I could do if someone was coming after me from inside the house. That’s what a shotgun was for and I had one in about every room. We all knew how to use them.
“You said he was scared,” Ashley said as we were painting our new bedroom.
“Definitely. But scared like a cornered dog. Dangerous scared.”
“It doesn’t make sense. We’ve never threatened him—only responded. What’s he scared of?” Ashley persisted.
“And why the hell does he keep upping the ante instead of retreating?” Mary Beth joined in. “Maybe there is a foreign influence that’s pressuring him. I thought we made that all up for Gold Watch.”
“Let’s look at what we know,” I said, tossing my brush in a pail of water. “Poor broke Joe left school the day after graduation. Nobody hears from him for six years. Then he comes back to town in a sports car with a bundle of money and steals my girlfriend. For which, by the way, I am eternally grateful because that made it possible for me to have the two most fabulous women in Wyoming to share my bed and my life.” I got kissed from both sides. “He sets up a brokerage office, saying he went to brokers’ school and did well in the market. He attracts a dozen or two of the richest men in the county to let him handle their accounts. Two years later, he has a strong enough base of support to run for Sheriff and win. In the meantime, he buys three ranches or more, including that huge spread up north.”
“Where did all the money come from?” Ashley asked. “Even if he was successful in the market, you have to start with something and according to your version of the story, he didn’t have two nickels to rub together when he left.”
“We could rub our nipples together if you want,” Mary Beth teased. “I mean in the shower. Now. To get clean.” We laughed, but kept talking, even when we were rubbing various body parts together in the shower.
“County plat map,” I said when we were drying off.
“Huh?”
“There’s a county plat map in the office. It shows who owns all the ranches and farms. We used it to identify who should be contacted with the bailout. I want to see exactly where Joe’s land up north is.” We went to the office and unrolled the huge county map. It wasn’t hard to see where our ranch was. There was open range managed by the BLM between our southern border and the Bosworth Ranch in the southeast. It extended west across the ridge and bordered about a mile of our land on the west. I was interested in the north county where Joe’s ranch was.
“Look, this isn’t where Joe lived when he was in school. That’s the ranch he bought over here on the east side of town when he came back. I think it’s still where he and Geneive live. The north property is all pasture. There’s close to twelve sections of it.” I traced the outline with a yellow marker. This Medicine Bow area includes a radical land change along a cliff that creates the northern border of his property. Along in there someplace is where Kyle kept stashing the treasures until the night we loaded them all in the Conestoga and moved them to our property. At least I hope it’s on our property.”
“We already figured that Joe went to the stash after Cal Despain died and found the cupboard bare,” Mary Beth suggested. “That’s probably why he’s targeted our ranch. He must know this is where Kyle was building Laramie’s cabin and he’s trying to get his treasure back.”
“Which begs the point of where the money came from to get him started. How much did he have access to before Kyle emptied the cave?” Ashley asked. I thought about it for a minute trying to access as much of Kyle’s memory as I could.
“As far as I can recollect, Kyle only took two batches of money directly to Cal Despain. One was the gold and jewels the prospector left for him. I think Laramie took it when I killed Cal. So, it wasn’t in the cave either. Then there was the suitcase full of currency that we sent by train and that Kyle carried to Despain.”
“How much?”
“Probably a hundred thousand. A lot of money in 1891. But Phile Morgan said he met Joe on previous trips. He could have been getting cash from any number of sources before he recruited Kyle to do the legwork so Despain could be sheriff.”
“That brings us back to step one,” Mary Beth said.
“Not necessarily. Hiding gold is one thing, but hiding currency is something else,” Ashley said. “A hundred grand in 1891 is a lot of money. In 1996, not as much. How much do we know Joe has spent?”
I looked up the property values we’d compiled so we knew what each ranch was worth in the county. Those that had sold had sale prices listed.
“The Medicine Bow acreage went for $3.5 million. The first ranch east of Laramie was $1 million. And the little property between the two went for $750,000. That’s $5.5 million.”
“Plus, what it’s costing him to maintain his operation and dump cattle on the market,” Mary Beth added.
“And Kyle can only account for $100,000 in currency that was deposited in a bank so somehow he could get access to it in this century. Whatever he got before he started using Kyle has to be considered, but he might have hidden that in the same cave as the stuff Kyle stole,” Ashley said. “Joe might be leveraged out as far as he can get. He might be broke.”
“And if he took out loans based on finding his lost treasure, he could be desperate. Shit!” Mary Beth said.
“I think we have to assume that when the January purchases are made, Joe might be bankrupt. If he has an ‘investor’ who has backed his venture, things could heat up even more,” I said. “We’ve got to be careful.”
Thanks to the Gold Watch security force, the other ranchers were feeling safe and still refused to buckle under pressure as the January sales got under way. Instead, Joe focused all his efforts on me now that he knew for sure I was the enemy. We were followed whenever we left the ranch. It was possible he had people in the hills above our place. I certainly did. I had my cars all scanned each morning to make sure there were no explosive devices that had been hidden in the night. Phil sent me three professional drivers and no one left either ranch unless they were driven. That included our parents, Mary Beth, and Ashley.
When Joe put up 5,000 head at $1.49 a pound, Gold Watch put up 5,000 at $1.45. Joe suddenly found out what it was like to be undersold. The other ranchers in the county watched the results as they counted the $2.00 a pound they’d been paid. We lost three-and-a-half a million on the sale of 40,000 head, but no one else lost a penny. Except Joe Teini. This time it was him that had to drop to a lower market price. It was going to be an interesting co-op meeting at the end of the month.
“Cole, I thought you ought to know there was a gun battle on your upper range last night,” Phil said when he called. In general, I had no contact with the mercenaries Phil had placed on our upper range. It was our most vulnerable side and he’d decided to station ten men up there to protect our western frontier. I only dealt with the security staff we had near the house and the drivers. “The force repelled six marksmen headed toward the trail down. They were professionals and have disappeared. You need to stay alert.”
I kept wondering over the next week what it meant. “Repelled six marksmen.” “Gun battle.” “Disappeared.” I didn’t even know how I’d tell the good guys from the bad guys. But it was obvious that we were targets and should take precautions. Of course, I figured I was immune. What is it about guys that make us think nothing can touch us? I’d already died once. I should have known.
I argued about it, but was overruled. When I went to the co-op meeting on the last Monday of the month, a professional drove my truck. He stayed in it and I came out of the meeting with even more questions on my mind. Most of the ranchers were in a good mood, which was a mystery to the Co-op manager. The news he had certainly wasn’t that good. Cattle had sold each week this month at a record low, but no one seemed to be concerned. Well, why would they be? Gold Watch Cattle Company had bought their January share at two dollars a pound and sold it at a dollar forty.
Joe didn’t show up for the meeting. He sent his wife, Geneive Murrieta Teini. She looked great. She’d always looked great. She merely nodded her consent when others talked about holding out, even though everyone figured Joe was behind the price drop. The truth was Joe had been undersold and took a bigger hit than anticipated in getting rid of his cattle. They were already on the block and sold when he realized the going price wasn’t the one he set. The ranchers were all so paranoid about the terms of their confidentiality agreements, though, that they wouldn’t even talk about why they were holding out with each other. Still, they were a united front.
The meeting ended with a weather forecast for the coming month, planting tips for spring, and what we should be ordering now so we were ready. It was stuff most of the guys already knew and the meeting broke up so folks could get into small groups with a cup of coffee and whisper.
“Long time, Cole,” Geneive said as I filled my cup.
“’Tis,” I said. “Looks like life’s been treating you well.”
“You mean Joe. Yeah. He gives me anything I want. Except the one thing neither of you would give me.” She reached across me, poured a cup of coffee, and stirred creamer and sugar into it. In the process, her shirt gapped open and I stared down on those little tits I used to love to suck. Somehow, knowing that Joe’s lips got all over them now turned my stomach.
“What’s that?” I said as she straightened up. What was it she said? Neither of us would give her something?
“A baby. The damned fool got himself snipped before we were even married.” She made a face as she drank the coffee. She’d never liked coffee.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Geneive, but frankly I don’t like the idea of little Joes running around.”
“What about me, Cole? Don’t you know that’s the only thing I ever wanted? I’d give you little Coles running around.”
“Geneive! Didn’t you hear I’m married? I’m not going to be your sperm donor.”
“Yeah, I heard. Congratulations.” She sighed. “I didn’t figure you’d buy that. But we had some good times, didn’t we?”
“Oh yeah.” Geneive looked sad. She started to say something and then changed her mind.
“Geneive…”
“Goodbye, Cole,” she cut me off. “We’ll always have Bertha’s.”
“Goodbye, Geneive.”
Now what the hell was that about? I was wracking my mind to remember any Bertha’s we’d ever been to. I didn’t know of one even now, unless maybe she used to call my old truck Bertha. I couldn’t remember, but we did have some good times in that truck. I smiled and headed for the truck, nodding to a couple of the other ranchers as I left. The nice thing about having the Gold Watch confidentiality agreement in place was that nobody’s attention but Joe’s was particularly on me anymore.
I was still thinking of Geneive when my driver swerved to the left and touched the guard-rail. He turned sharp to the right and I heard the metal crunch as I felt the impact. The truck spun one-eighty and I felt the contact with another vehicle again. We slid backward off the edge of the bridge and jammed against the abutment.
What the hell? This was the same place Dad had his accident.
“We better see if he’s still alive,” my driver said.
“Who?”
“The guy in the black ’Vette and no lights that just tried to run us off the road.” Shit! I hadn’t even seen the other car. There was only one black Corvette I knew of. Joe Teini was trying to take me out the same way he took my father. I got out and walked around the back of the truck while my driver radioed base to call 911. The sports car was pinned sideways between the truck and the bridge. The driver’s airbag was already deflating and I could see Joe Teini struggling to breathe.
I motioned my driver to pull the truck forward as I leaned into Joe’s shattered window.
“We’ll get you out of there, Joe. We’ve called for help. An ambulance is on the way.”
“Don’t trust 911,” he wheezed. “That’s how you get me.”
“There are still some services that come no matter who you are.”
“It’s a good thing. No one would come for me. Not even my wife. It’s over, Cole. You win.” He tried to laugh and coughed up blood. There was no way I could get him out of the car. His side was completely crushed in and his legs were pinned under the dash. I kept working at the door anyway, trying to get it open.
“Take care of Geneive, Cole. She still loves you, you know.”
“Why the hell did you ever want her in the first place?” I asked. “You didn’t even know I was involved back then.”
“You’ll have to ask her, Kyle Wardlaw. You’ll have to ask her.” He was quiet and I managed to free the door of its latch but could only open it a few inches.
“When did you first know I was Kyle?” I asked as I worked. I was just talking to keep him alert. He was silent. I reached over to check his pulse and his head lolled to the side, his eyes open and unblinking. “Joe?” There was no answer. “Rest in peace,” I said as I reached over and closed his eyes. I could see flashing lights coming down the road, but on this stretch you could see a couple of miles. I leaned back against the car.
The war was over.
Comments
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
