Montana Summer Ch. 09

ee."

"Reach my bra and pants and Becky and I will go with you."

The threesome sat at the fire and drank their coffee, and again Ryan was sandwiched between the two girls. He enjoyed the feeling of the both of them next to him. It reminded him of the camping trip they had gone on just after arriving at the ranch.

After Ryan had finished his coffee, he gave the girls each a hug. "Well, I guess I should go get Bernie ready."

Jessi stood up. "You be careful out there." She gave him a slow, deep kiss on the lips.

"My turn." Becky piped up. She wrapped her arms around Ryan and gave him a warm hug, then she kissed him also, and slipped her tongue into his mouth for a moment.

"I saw that, Becky!" Jessi laughed. "You gave him the tongue."

Becky beamed while Ryan blushed. "Damn right I gave him the tongue. I don't want him to forget how hot I think he is."

After Ryan had headed off to the horses, Jessi turned to Becky. "I really didn't mind you giving him the tongue. I hope you realize that."

Becky smiled at Jessi. "I do know that." She blushed. "I would like to have sex with the two of you again."

Jessi gave Becky a hug. "I would like to do that again, too. I don't think, Mr. Always Horny would complain either."

The two girls began giggling again as they went over to fix a fresh pot of coffee for whoever wanted any.

Ryan had just finished saddling Bernie and was feeding him some apple slices when Frank rode up.

"You ready?" Frank queried.

Ryan nodded. "Yup, anytime you are."

---

Hank had found a strip club called the Pussy Cat Lounge, and was enjoying himself. A couple of overpriced drinks, and a bevy of topless dancers made for a fine evening of entertainment. At least, to Hank, nothing could be better than sitting and watching beautiful girls disrobing and shaking their boobs at him.

So it was understandable that Hank was more than a little perturbed when he felt his cell phone vibrating inside his shirt pocket. He looked at the number on the display and then got up from his chair and headed for a quieter, and more private place.

"Yeah!" Hank's voice was gruff as he answered his phone just outside the front door of the strip club.

"How are you doing?" It was Kenny.

'Just like that fuck to interrupt me just when I'm starting to enjoy myself', Hank thought to himself. "I'm doing okay." Hank was eager for Kenny to get to the point so he could go back to his seat along the stage.

"Have you heard from Sal at all today?" Kenny's voice sounded slight perturbed.

"Nope, not at all. I tried calling him about six, but it went straight to voice mail," Hank answered.

"Fuck!" Kenny exclaimed.

"Why? What's up? " Hank asked.

"Well the little bastard was supposed to call me as soon as he was out, and he hasn't called yet."

Hank scratched his head as if he was expecting to find an answer there. "Well, maybe he is still in the hospital. Have you called there?"

"Yeah!" Kenny answered. "I did, and they told me that he was released a little before nine this morning. Any ideas on where he might be?"

Hank thought for a moment. "No, none at all, I would have thought he would have at least given me a call unless..." A shiver went through Hank's body.

"Unless what?"

He took a deep breath before answering. "Unless he is still hanging around that town. He might try going after that kid that shot him."

"Fucking Hell!" Kenny yelled into the phone. "Do you think he would be that fucking stupid?"

"I don't know. I've known Sal for a few years, but he's the kind of guy you never really get to know. He's kind of funny if he thinks someone has insulted, or slighted him somehow. He takes it real personal, and fixates on it."

Kenny ran his fingers through what was left of his thinning hair. "If you hear from him, tell him to call me. If he is still in fucking Mayberry tell him to leave Opie alone and to get his fucking sorry ass up here."

Hank walked back into the strip club and sat down after the phone call had ended. The brunette with the nice tits was dancing again. She flashed Hank a quick smile. He felt a stirring in his pants. Maybe tonight wouldn't be a washout after all. He reached into his pocket and pulled a twenty out. He reached up and slid it slowly into her g-string. The back of his hand rubbed against her mound as he inserted the bill. She flicked her tongue at Hank and winked.

Hank settled back down in his seat. He had already put the conversation with Kenny in the back of his mind. His night was beginning to look up.

---

"All we want to do is make sure that none of the cattle wander off. Most of them will bed down for the night," Frank explained as they rode towards the herd. "We're lucky." Frank pointed up at the near full moon. "We've got light to work by."

Ryan looked up at the moon that was just rising over the mountain. It cast a ghostly light across the landscape. "Where should I be?"

"Just slowly work your way around until you are down at the south end, then turn around and work your way back up to here. One word of caution, if for some reason they get stirred up and running, keep to the outside. You don't want to get caught up in the herd. Once out front, start turning the leaders. Keep turning the leaders until they are stopped by the rest of the herd. After that they will calm down pretty quickly." Frank paused for a moment. "We haven't had herd take off in, hell, maybe ten years or more. And that was because lightning struck right smack in the middle of the herd."

Ryan slowly began circling around the herd. The cattle didn't pay much attention to the young cowboy on the horse as he rode along at a slow pace. Ryan stopped at the furthest point from the camp and looked over the ghostly looking cattle. He could see the glow of the campfire. Across the herd, he could hear Frank playing a harmonica. To Ryan, it seemed like a scene out of time. He wondered how many cowboys had seen this very scene. He felt a link to the past, his past.

Sal had watched Ryan from his place of concealment. He figured that he had about two hours based on how long the previous man had been out here. He had now watched Ryan ride back and forth a few times, and each time he stopped in the virtually the same spot.

He waited for Ryan to begin moving north before moving back to his vehicle. He didn't want to have any more with him than absolutely necessary. The pack that contained most of his gear was left in the vehicle. There was enough light now from the moon that his night vision goggles were no longer necessary. He sat the keys on the seat of the SUV. There would be no chance of losing his keys as he was running. Sal slipped the two spare magazines in one pocket of his jacket. He pulled the slide back on the automatic and released it. There was a sudden sense of exhilaration in him as he heard the round load into the chamber. Very carefully he released the hammer, and set the safety before slipping the .45 in his other pocket.

Sal made his way around the grove of trees watching carefully for any signs of the young cowboy. He heard Ryan approaching before he saw him. He could hear the creaking of the leather from Ryan's saddle. Sal put his hand in his pocket and slipped the safety for the weapon to the ready position. He brought the weapon out of his pocket and pulled the hammer back. Sal's finger caressed the trigger delicately—it was almost like an act of love between the man and the weapon.

Ryan was half-watching the cattle, and half-daydreaming about his sexual encounter with Jessi., the sound of Frank's harmonica nearly lulling him to sleep. He never saw the movement in the bushes to his left.

Bernie did, however, see the movement and began to turn. Although no one would ever know it, that slight turn prevented what happened next from being fatal.

Sal sprung from the trees with his arm extended and squeezed the trigger.

Ryan heard the explosion and felt a burning sensation in his shoulder.

The loud explosion of the gunshot caused Bernie to rear up. Ryan felt himself falling backwards, still not fully understanding what had just happened. It felt like he was falling for a long time. Suddenly, there was a jarring explosion in his head and there was a moment where all went white, and then there was a sudden blackness.

Bill had been talking to Charlie by the fire when they heard the gunshot. Bill looked at Charlie. "What the hell?"

Frank Buchanan paused his playing of the harmonica and yelled, "Ryan! What the hell was that?"

Jessi and Becky had been laying in the doubled up sleeping bags talking when they heard the gunshot. Jessi scrambled out of the sleeping bag and pulled her boots and jacket on and went running towards the campfire with Becky right behind her.

"That wasn't Ryan's gun." Bill remarked to Charlie. "He's got that old black powder Colt."

Frank yelled again, "Ryan! You ok?" He started his horse moving around the herd.

Sal smiled as he watched the young cowboy fall from the horse. He needed to make sure he had done the job he had set out to do. Sal heard something he had never heard before in his life. A blood curdling war whoop.

He looked up in disbelief. Bearing down on him at a full gallop with their long braids flowing in the wind were five half-naked, mounted Lakota warriors.

"What the fuck?" were the only words that Sal uttered. He raised his automatic and began to fire rapidly. He couldn't believe that when he had emptied the magazine that absolutely nothing had happened.

They split into two lines, three warriors in one, and the other two in the other. As they passed Sal, one by one, they each unloosed an arrow from their bow. Sal was confused. Why hadn't his bullets stopped at least one of them? Why didn't he hear the sounds of their horses?

As the first arrow entered his body, Sal let loose a primeval scream of fear. He knew he was going to die. He didn't want to die, not here, and not now. He had planned this too well for him to fail like this.

Sal fell over backwards, his now dead eyes staring at the moon.

The sounds of an automatic being fired rapidly, and then that awful scream roused the whole camp into action. Everyone was racing by foot to where the shots had come from.

Frank dug his spurs into the flanks and slapped the rump of his horse. As he rode he slipped his right hand down to his hip to confirm that his pistol was still holstered. There was a sense of relief when his hand touched the handle.

Frank saw Bernie standing over Ryan. He reined his horse to a stop and leapt to the ground. What he saw caused his heart to nearly stop. Laying on the ground ,looking lifeless, was the carefree young cowboy that was like a son to his best friend. He saw the blood oozing from a wound to his shoulder, but even worse, he could see the blood on the rock beneath the boy's head.

"What the hell?" Frank said as he looked at the wound in Ryan's shoulder. He quickly stood up and scanned the area. He saw Sal's lifeless body laying about twenty feet from Ryan. He walked over to the body and kicked the automatic from Sal's hand. He stared at the five arrows planted in the man's chest and tried to make sense of what he was seeing.

Jessi's lungs were on fire by the time she reached the place where Frank knelt beside Ryan's body. "Ryan!" she screamed. Tears streamed from her eyes as she looked at his body laying there. "Oh God, my cowboy..." She went to grasp him, but Frank restrained her.

She looked at Frank. "Is he..."

Frank shook his head. "No, I could feel a pulse. Take my horse and get Ellie. Tell her to bring the truck over here."

Jessi shook her head. "I'll take Bernie." She hopped up on to Bernie and smacked him on the rump. "Run Bernie, run like you've never run before!"

Bernie had sensed something was wrong with the man that rode him. He could sense the urgency in the girl's words and he ran as hard, and as fast, as he could.

The rest of the camp had arrived where Frank still stood. Milt Walker quickly surveyed the scene. "No one touch anything."

"Frank," Milt ordered. "Take your horse and ride up to my truck. The keys are in the ignition, start it up and get a hold of the dispatcher. Tell her that we need an ambulance, a couple of deputies with crime scene kits, and the coroner. And tell her to tell the paramedics to floor it getting up here."

Bill knelt beside Ryan and, with as much gentleness as he could find, he stroked Ryan's hair. Tears flowed down his cheeks as he talked to Ryan. "You hang in there, kid."

Becky turned white as a sheet when she saw Ryan laying there. She grabbed a hold of Charlie— no words were needed, the question was evident in her eyes.

"He's alive, Frank said he had a pulse." Charlie's eyes were moist looking.

Frank had reached Milt's Sheriff's vehicle. He slipped into the cab of the big SUV and started the engine. He reached for the mike and depressed the push to talk switch. "Dispatch this is fire sixteen."

He waited a few seconds and then repeated his call. "Dispatch this is fire sixteen."

The radio crackled back at him, "Fire sixteen, dispatch. You are on the police channel, please switch to fire channel one."

"Dispatch, fire sixteen. Negative on channel change. I have a message from Milt. Start the paramedics pronto for the BLM pasture up on Widow's Peak. We have a man shot, with head wounds. I repeat we have a man shot with head wounds. Send a pair of deputies with crime scene kits, and we need the coroner. There is one confirmed fatality." Milt waited for the confirmation.

There was a brief pause. "Fire sixteen, dispatch. Ten-four, the paramedics are en route."

"Fire sixteen, ten-four." Frank put the mike back on its clip.

"King-eight, King-ten, dispatch."

Frank shut the SUV off as the deputies answered the call from dispatch. He went to get out of the vehicle but then stopped. He started Milt's vehicle back up and turned on the headlights and the over head spotlights. He put the vehicle in gear and began to drive back towards where Ryan was laying.

Jessi had ridden Bernie back up to where Ryan was while Ellie and her mother got Frank's truck. She was kneeling beside Ryan, the tears returning to her eyes. She put her lips to his ear and whispered, "You are my life, cowboy, you are the only one for me. I love you, Ryan, with all of my heart, I love you."

Becky knelt down and put her arm around Jessi and gave her a much needed hug.

Milt was looking at Sal's body with Charlie. "What the hell do you make of that, Charlie?"

Charlie looked at the body and then at the arrows. "I don't know. The arrows look like they were handmade." He shone a small penlight at the arrows. "The quality is very good."

"You know who he is, don't you?" Milt looked at Charlie.

Charlie shook his head. "Nope, never seen him before."

"He's the one that Ryan shot up on Baxter's. Looks like he was out for some revenge." Milt was still trying to piece together a possible theory that would fit the physical evidence.

"Yeah, that's what it looks like." Charlie nodded his head in agreement.

Milt nodded, "He looks like a pin cushion with five arrows stuck in him. He has an empty automatic—we all heard him empty it. There is no sign that he hit anything other than Ryan. I think we are going to have to wait for daylight to make any real sense out of it."

"Yeah, I think you're right," Charlie replied. There was no doubt in his mind where the arrows had come from. The men who had shot those arrows were beyond the reach of Milt, and the law. They had been dead for well over a hundred years.

Ellie Buchanan was a trained EMT and quickly took charge of Ryan's care. She put a cervical collar on Ryan to immobilize his head and neck. Under her careful supervision they placed Ryan on a back board and then covered him with a blanket.

Once the paramedics arrived, they didn't waste much time getting Ryan loaded up into the ambulance. Jessi and Becky followed behind the ambulance in Becky's car. Aunt Suzanne and Uncle Bill followed behind Jessi and Becky, and they were followed by Charlie and Walt.

The paramedic reached for the mike on the radio and called into the hospital. "He's got a flesh wound to the shoulder, it looks to me like the bullet just grazed him. I think he fell from his horse and struck his head on a rock. I dunno Doc, just my opinion, but I think you need to get Med-Flite started."

The doctor on duty in the hospital looked at his notes and he agreed with the paramedic's assessment. The small town hospital didn't have the equipment necessary to properly diagnose the incoming patient. He pressed the key on the mike, "Ten-four, if what you have told me is correct, I concur. We will contact Med-Flite and get them started."

He picked up the telephone and called the nearest trauma center. After he hung up the phone, he began to worry. The Golden Hour. By the time the paramedics got the patient here his Golden Hour would be about to expire. He only hoped there was something he could do. The doctor looked up at the clock— it was going to be a minimum of four hours before the patient would be somewhere where they could do some real good.

There was no change in Ryan's condition when the Med-Flite chopper landed in the hospital parking lot. The staff at the hospital had done all they could. The doctor on duty was slightly encouraged after he had looked at the x-rays. He commented to the nurse assisting him, "I don't see any signs of brain swelling."

The flight nurses quickly took report from the doctor before they wheeled Ryan out to the waiting chopper.

"We can take two passengers with us," the flight nurse announced as they were loading Ryan.

Jessi looked at her father. "I'm going!"

Bill nodded, and then he looked over at Charlie. He could see the apprehension in the old man's face. "Charlie, would you go with Jessi?"

Charlie nodded and tried without much success to hide his emotions. He couldn't say anything— he just gave Bill a hug.

"I'm going to call his parents, and then me and Suzanne will pack some things and head on up there."

---

Milt, the county coroner, and two deputies stood looking at the body well after the ambulance had left. They had lit the area up with their headlights and spotlights from their vehicles.

"This just doesn't make sense." The coroner stood scratching his head. "We got a victim laying over there. His gun still holstered, and not fired. We have a dead person laying here with an empty auto in his hand, and five arrows planted in his chest, and from the looks of it, each one could have been fatal." He pointed back towards the cattle. "And no signs of any other footprints, hoof prints, or..."

"Walt, do you know of anyone who makes arrows like this?" Milt asked.

Walter shrugged his shoulders. "No one around here that I know of. I think there are some people on one of the reserves in the Dakotas that make them. Dad would be the one to ask."

Milt looked at the coroner. "I've got a feeling we will never know what happened here. About all we can do is search the area as soon as it is light and hope that Ryan has some answers."

---

All the tests had been done. Ryan lay in the room in ICU with Charlie and Jessie sitting in the room, listening to the quiet sounds of the monitors. IV lines ran from Ryan's arms to bags on hangars attached to his bed. It was still dark and quiet, but the sunrise wasn't far away.

Jessi felt herself doze for a moment and then she looked up. She was about to cry out when Charlie squeezed her hand and motioned her to be quiet. A Lakota warrior with long braids and a feather in his hair stood over Ryan chanting. Jessi couldn't understand the words. She looked at Charlie, searching his face for an answer.

Charlie whispered, "The Wanagi, he is one of them. He is asking Ryan to come back."