Montana Summer Ch. 08

Jessi wiped away the tears, "Oh yeah, I know what you'd be doing if he was here right now. A lot of help you would be."

Jessi felt better, Becky could always cheer her up.

---

Breakfast was quiet, Uncle Bill looked tired, and Aunt Suzanne wasn't wearing her normal cheerful smile.

Uncle Bill played with the eggs on his plate, finally he looked at Ryan, "Has what happened changed your mind about going into ranching with me."

Ryan shook his head, "No, I still want to, I feel at home here," he looked into his Uncle's eyes, "It's like I know that this is what I am meant to do. Jessi was a big part of it, but now..." his words trailed off.

The rodeo, and county fair had put them behind on their work on the ranch, and Ryan was glad that there was so much to do. For the most part it kept his mind off of missing Jessi. For three days it was starting just after dawn, and working until well after dark until he too exhausted to do any more, eat some supper, and collapse into bed. He had called Jessi a couple of times to check on her, and just to hear her voice. During the calls his heart soared, and after he was left with a wanting hunger in his soul.

At night Ryan would dream of Jessi, all kinds of dreams, some wild and hot, some soft, and romantic. He would awaken from the dreams and be filled with disappointment, as the reality would sink in. How he cursed his father for what his father had done, he wondered if deep down his mother was gloating. It had seemed that he had won the confrontation with her, had she got just a little revenge on him for not bending to her will? It always seemed to take an eternity for sleep to return after one of the dreams, and when it did, it was a fitful sleep.

---

"Damn, I'm horny," Becky giggled as she lay in bed with Jessi; they had just turned the lights off.

"Becky!" Jessi shook her head and laughed, that was classic Becky, and she was always one to speak her mind.

"Well it's the truth," Becky snickered.

Jessi swatted Becky with a pillow, "You're a nut."

"Yes I am," Becky was laughing, "Would you mind if I got myself off."

"Right now?" Jessi was laughing so hard her sides hurt.

Becky bounced her hips up and down on the bed, "Uh huh. You could leave for a few minutes, go take a shower, make a sandwich, and vacuum the living room. That would give me more than enough time."

"Stop it, you're killing me," tears were running down Jessi's cheeks, when she finally caught her breath, "I thought you were serious until you told me to make a sandwich, and vacuum."

"Yeah, I thought that was good, but I am horny, do you wanna talk dirty like we used to do?" Becky was referring to when they were younger and used to whisper things that wanted to do to certain individuals.

"I had almost forgotten about that, I used to get so turned on," Jessi giggled.

"So did I," replied Becky, "Do you want me to start?"

"Yeah, give it your best shot," giggled Jessi.

"I, uh, gave Matt a blowjob the other night after the dance, and I let him cum in my mouth," Becky whispered softly, "I liked sucking on his hard cock."

Jessi was giggling, "You slut! You always let the guys cum in your mouth. My turn, I had Ryan jack off for me out by the corral."

"Oh, I wish I was there, I loved watching him jack off for us when we went camping," Becky could feel the wetness building between her legs.

"That was so hot," Jessi replied, she could feel the effects of her own arousal.

"I don't know what was hotter, watching Ryan stroking his cock, or you touching me," Becky's voice had gotten quiet.

Jessi could feel her cheeks grow warm, "I liked that. Feeling your finger playing with my clit, and I liked touching you."

"Would; would you like to do it again; now?" there was a touch of hesitancy in Becky's voice.

"I...uh," Jessi's heart was pounding in her chest, "Uh...do you?"

"Yes," Becky nodded her head. She slipped her boxers, and panties off; she ran her finger between her legs feeling the moist warmth.

"Okay," Jessi's heart was still pounding; she pulled her shorts, and panties off.

Jessi reached over and slid her hand between Becky's legs and touched her moistness, she slowly began running her finger up and down between Becky's lust swollen lips. Becky's hand moved between Jessi's legs, she ran her fingers lightly over Jessi's smooth mound, and down to her damp slit.

"That feels so good," Becky moaned softly.

They were laying on their sides, with their top leg, pulled up allowing the other girl's hand free access. Their faces were just inches apart, in the dim light in the room they could just make out each other's face.

"Oh yes fuck me, fuck me with your finger," Becky moaned as she felt Jessi's finger slide up inside her wet channel. Becky's hips began to move in time with Jessi's ministrations.

Jessi was growing hotter and hotter, both from the effects of Becky's finger, and her own touching of Becky, she liked how it felt when she slid her finger in and out of Becky's wet pussy. Hesitantly she slid her free hand under Becky's t-shirt and began to fondle her friend's firm breasts, she found her nipples already erect, and waiting to be teased.

Becky closed her eyes, she had wanted that, but had been a little afraid to ask Jessi, "Yes," she whispered, "That feels so good."

"Touch my breasts," Jessi looked at the dim outline of her friend, "Please, I want to feel your hand on them."

As Becky slid her hand under Jessi's top she also slid her finger into Jessi's slit and as deep as she could go, in and out her finger slid as it rubbed across Jessi's clit. She cupped Jessi's somewhat larger breast in her hand and began to knead it. Her fingers found Jessi's nipple already crinkled and erect, Becky began to gently pull on it, like she was jacking a tiny cock.

Jessi's hips were moving back and forth, she was consumed by her lust now, she wanted to cum, and she wanted make Becky cum. She could sense that Becky was on the edge, she moved her fingers faster and harder across her swollen clit, and deep inside of Becky's hot, tight hole. The way Becky was pulling on her nipples sent little flashes of pleasure all the way to Jessi's clit.

"Oh god, oh god," Becky moaned, "I'm so fucking close..."

Jessi's own climax was building fast, "So am I," she was almost panting.

They had moved closer and closer so that now their hands almost touched each other's as they stroked, and teased each other's clits, and pussies. Both girls were moaning softly. Jessi was gently tugging on Becky's nipples, alternating, between one then the other. The urge struck Jessi to take Becky's nipple into her mouth and suck on it, Jessi leaned her head down and squeezed Becky's breast so that the nipple was almost like a point, she sucked the dark pink nipple into her mouth and flicked her tongue over the rubbery nipple.

"Oh fuck, suck my tits Jessi," Becky was overwhelmed with her lust, "You're going to make me cum."

Jessi sucked hard on Becky's hard nipple, nipping at it with her teeth, she felt her own orgasm coming on, growing like a small flame that would soon become an inferno. She grabbed onto Becky's shoulder as her hips ground hard against Becky's hand, her body vibrating as she began to climax.

Becky's climax started just milliseconds after Jessi's, her world spun out of control, she felt her juices release from her pussy. She rode the crest of her orgasm like a surfer rides a wave.

Jessi's face was flushed as she continued climaxing; her clit felt like it was going to burst, her moans were almost incomprehensible, her eyes were closed as her body continued shaking.

It took them a few minutes after their orgasm had ended to compose themselves; Becky leaned over and kissed Jessi softly on the lips, and whispered, "Thank you, I needed that."

---

"Go ahead and ride the fence line, I'd go a mile or two past Baxter's, and then head on back," Uncle Bill explained, "Sometimes we have trouble with bears knocking down the fence. They don't have much time now to build up fat for the winter, sometimes some of the weaker, and older ones will come down from the hills and go after some of the younger cattle. It's not the black bears; there are still some grizzlies up there in the high country around the tree line. You see one, just steer clear, your horse will tell you if there is a bear near, he can smell them before you can see them. If Bernie gets spooky like, turn around and head back a little. Don't try taking a bear down with that Colt on your belt, it won't hardly slow one down. I don't know if I even want to take on one with that 30-30 on your saddle."

Ryan nodded as he saddled Bernie; there was a chill in the air this morning. He was wearing jeans, shirt, and a lined jean jacket. Over top of his jeans he was wearing a pair of leather chaps with little silver buckles. His beat, and battered cowboy hat sat lazily upon his head, and a pair of tight leather work gloves on his hands. As his feet hit the ground the spurs on his boots rang out lightly, almost sounding like tiny chimes.

Bill had brought out a gun belt with a holster, and a revolver, "Now remember, when you're riding keep your hammer on an empty chamber, that way you can't shoot yourself in the foot," Uncle Bill chuckled, "And believe me, there's a few people around here that have done it."

Ryan looked at his Uncle, "You?"

Uncle Bill shook his head, "No, but it wasn't for a lack of trying, blew the end off of a boot once, and damn it, that was a good pair of boots."

"Keep this loop around the hammer, it will keep the gun from coming out of your holster," Bill pointed to a small rawhide loop hooked over the hammer of the Colt.

Ryan was surprised at how heavy the pistol, and belt felt. What was even stranger to him was that once he strapped the belt on how natural it seemed to feel. As he mounted Bernie he was struck with the thought that this is what a cowboy a hundred years ago would have looked like. His hand rested momentarily on the polished wooden grip of the Colt, it almost felt reassuring.

"Keep a weather eye out for bears, especially ones with youngsters," Uncle Bill yelled at Ryan as he began to ride away.

Ryan raised his hand, signaling that he had heard, and understood his Uncle. It felt good to be back on Bernie, and getting away from the ranch. The past few days had been rough on Ryan, he hadn't seen Jessi since Sunday. Ryan felt like he had been cast adrift on a sea of anguish. Bernie responded to the touch of Ryan's spurs and broke into a run.

The cool air rushing past his face felt good, he leaned forward in the saddle enjoyed the ride. The aspens on the one side of the trail were beginning to show signs of the fall; some of the leaves had turned yellow, and some orange. The oat field on the other side of the trail was almost ready for harvest, another week or two at most.

A couple of miles up the trail Bernie slowed to a trot, Ryan rubbed Bernie's ears, "Feels good doesn't it, it's a great day to be out here."

It was a beautiful day, the sky was clear, and as blue as blue could get, and not a cloud in sight. Ryan stared at the mountains ahead of him. Above the tree line the green of the trees gave way to the dark grey of the rock, as he studied the granite monoliths he could pick out differing shades of grey, small patches of reddish colored rock. He had noticed that the mountains never looked the same, as the sun traveled overhead the shadows would change, giving the mountains a different look. Some of the peaks were still capped with a crown of bright white snow, and especially on day like this, the snow was so bright it had a bluish tinge to it.

Ryan never got over the grandeur, and the majesty of these mountains, it humbled him, he never ceased to wonder how something could be so large, and so permanent. The more he studied them as he rode the more he saw, he could pick out rock slides that probably happened more than a hundred years ago, that looked like they had happened only yesterday. Large trees, probably fifty or sixty feet high that were laying at crazy angles, snapped like matchsticks by tumbling rocks. He could see the strata lines in the rock where at one time the earth had heaved up, driving the mountains soaring towards the sky.

As Ryan and Bernie rode the fence line they would stop occasionally and Ryan would pull his fencing hammer from a saddle bag, and some U shaped fencing nails to nail up a piece of barbed wire.

Bernie watched Ryan as he worked. He liked this man, he trusted him, and he treated him well. Bernie couldn't understand why, but the man that rode him made him feel years younger. He liked his soft voice, his gentle touch with the spurs, and the easy way he worked the reins. Bernie followed Ryan to where Ryan was working with the fence, and nudged him with his nose.

Ryan laughed, "What do you think you're doing? I know what you're after, just give me a minute, and I'll pull an apple out for you."

After Ryan had finished nailing the wire back on the dancer, he walked around the horse and pulled an apple from the other saddlebag. He fished a knife from his pocket and cut slices off the apple and fed it to Bernie.

He put his hand on the side of Bernie's head, "You know big fella, on days like this, you feel like you're the only friend I've got," then Ryan smiled and chuckled, "But I know the truth, you only like me for the apples."

As they approached the draw that led to the entrance to Baxter's Canyon Ryan felt a chill, he remembered the evening up here that he saw the Wanagi, he wondered if he would ever see them again. There had been a majesty in the way they rode, tall and proud on their horses. He could still see the face of the rider that had spoken to him. His features had been weathered from years in the sun, and the wind. His high cheekbones had given his face a look of strength.

Ryan looked at a gap in the fence, "What the ..."

He dismounted Bernie and walked over to the fence, someone had opened the small gate, and had left it open. Ryan looked down at the ground at some tire tracks; he knelt down and studied them, only one set. He could see where the driving wheels of the vehicle had spewed some dirt, and from that he knew the direction of travel, towards Baxter's, and no sign of a vehicle making a return trip.

Ryan studied the tracks, and followed them with his eyes as far as he could. He thought for a moment about heading back to the ranch to get his uncle. The feeling of the weight of the Colt on his hip gave him confidence, and he changed his mind.

Gone was the smile from his face, it had been replaced with a grim look of determination; he knew there should be no one up here. The only people that he knew that should be in Baxter's would be Charlie, or others from the Wolf Creek Band, and he knew they wouldn't have driven, nor would they have left the fence open.

"C'mon Bernie," he gently urged Bernie in the direction of the tracks.

The land rose as he rode towards the canyon. He could feel his stomach churning, he was nervous; he could feel the rush of adrenalin surging through his body. His eyes moved constantly looking for anything resembling a vehicle, listening for any sounds that were human made.

The draw made a sweep to the right, and as Bernie and Ryan were halfway through the sweep he spotted a quick flash of sunlight on glass. There was a vehicle in the trees up ahead. Ryan's hand instinctively went to the pistol at his side. His thumb flipped the rawhide loop up off of the hammer, and his hand pulled the pistol partway out of the holster, and then let it drop back down, loosening the holster's grip on the cold steel of the .45.

There wasn't any sign of anyone around the vehicle as Ryan cautiously approached the small SUV. He walked around the vehicle and immediately noticed the out of state plates. He tried the doors, but all were locked, he put his hand on the hood, it was cool, so the vehicle had been here for a while at least.

Kneeling in front of the SUV Ryan studied the ground looking for any clue that would show him what direction they had headed. He walked over to Bernie and took his reins in his hand, and led the horse as he continued scanning the ground. Over there! Something white! A cigarette butt, Ryan picked it up and sniffed it, the sour smell of burnt tobacco filling his nostrils. He rolled the butt in his fingers, the tobacco wasn't dry, and it hadn't lay here for long. His eyes followed the trail, he knew where they had gone, someplace where people shouldn't be. A place that meant something to him, he had seen it in his dream, Mato the bear had taken him there.

Ryan urged Bernie forward after he had mounted him, moving slowly up the trail carefully watching for any signs of people. It was likely that he would be outnumbered; he knew he had to spot them before they saw him. Surprise would be his only advantage, and that was the one thing going for him, he knew they were up here, but they didn't know he was here.

About a mile from the SUV Ryan saw something, he stopped, there it was again, a flash of color. Bright red was not a natural color up here in the mountains. Ryan urged Bernie into the trees and stopped a few yards in. He continued tracking the bright red, now he could see them, well parts of them. Three heads, some arms, he could hear their voices now, but couldn't make out what they were saying; from the sound of it they were either happy, or excited about something. The way they were walking they weren't watching for anyone, and that gave Ryan a small sense of relief, he still held the advantage.

He wanted them to pass, then he would leave his place of concealment, he wanted to come up on them from the rear, more advantage for him. His right hand flexed and momentarily touched the smooth wooden grips of the Colt.

Two men and woman passed where Ryan and Bernie quietly waited, none of the three gave as much as a glance as they passed. Each man had a large green military style duffel bag slung over his back. More advantage for him, the bags looked heavy and a little unwieldy.

Ryan touched his spurs to Bernie, and rode out into the open, "Excuse me," Ryan called out.

The trio whirled around, their reverie interrupted by Ryan's voice.

"You mind telling me what you're doing up here?" Ryan's question wasn't a question; it was a demand for an explanation.

The swarthy faced man, apparently the leader smiled, an oily smile, "Well sonny, we just came up for a hike, and what's it to you? Shouldn't you be playing with some cows or whatever it is you people do out here?"

"Hey Hank, don't be mean to the boy, he's kinda cute," she had nasally, almost annoying accent.

Ryan smiled back at Hank, it wasn't a smile of happiness, or friendship, it was the smile of grim determination, "Well for one thing, this is Rocking M ranch land, and I'm from the Rocking M," he pointed to the duffel bags, "What's in the bags?"

Ryan had turned Bernie so he was sideways to the trio, his right hand hidden from view by his body. He watched the third member of the part start to move sideways, "You just stay where you're at."

"Listen sonny, we don't have time to play twenty questions with you, why don't you and your horse go play somewhere," Hank's voice had a tinge of frustration.

Ryan's right hand rested gently on the grips of the Colt, Ryan felt the sensation familiar, and comforting. He kept his eyes moving watching the trio, trying to assess where the danger would come from, and when it would come.

Ryan saw Hank give a quick glance over to the third member, "Listen sonny, we just collected some souvenirs up there, I know people who will pay big bucks for authentic artifacts like this, now if we give you a hundred bucks would that be enough to send you along your way?"

Ryan shook his head, "No, and no amount of money is going to get me along on my way, and you're not leaving the mountain with those bags. I suggest you just set them down, and start walking down the hill."