Chapter Thirteen
Monday, August 25 th .
Wild Stallion Ranch. Montana.
Three weeks had gone by and today was the day we pulled out of Montana and headed for our new life in Texas. The house movers were scheduled to come tomorrow and pack up all of our furniture and belongings and bring the load to our new ranch in Lincoln, Texas.
Billy had decided to live with his parents in Shelby for the two months until his term was up, then he’d fly down and join us on our new ranch. That made Dad happy. He wanted Billy in Texas with us, and so did me and Virge.
The horses were loaded in the long, rented trailer and that trailer was hooked up to Dad’s big Ford. He wanted to haul the horses because the weight of the trailer would be harder for Virge and me to handle if it was hooked to our Jeep.
Virge didn’t see it that way and he protested a bit when Dad told us how it was going to go, but Virge liked to argue just for the sake of it.
Travis had sold our small two-horse trailer, so we didn’t have to haul it with us. Good move. We had four horses now and more coming when we got to the Texas ranch.
Yesterday, before we loaded the tack and all the rest of it, we all rode together out to the back of our thousand acres. Dad wanted to have one more look at the wild horses that often ran across our land with their tails and manes flying in the wind. Our ranch was named for the mustangs and yesterday, we were lucky enough to spot a couple of them.
While we were way back there, Dad spent a few minutes sitting at his Uncle Carson’s grave. He said his goodbyes and thanked Uncle Carson for the ranch and for giving us a good life because of it.
We were keeping the cabin he gave us up Black Wolf Mountain so we could come back to Montana anytime we wanted and have our own place to hang out.
Dad told me and Virge that we were born in Montana, so we should have a piece of property here for our heritage. Our own little piece of Montana. I loved that cabin, so I was glad we weren’t selling it along with everything else.
After breakfast, we said goodbye to Billy. Dad put him in charge of packing up everything in the fridge and taking it all to his mother’s house. We had the rest of the stuff from the pantry packed in boxes and ready for the movers.
We’d already said goodbye to Molly and Ted at the station and that was a sad time yesterday, with Molly crying ‘n all, but we got through it.
Molly was only staying until Billy was done at the first of November. She’d made up her mind. It was time for her to retire.
“You ready, boys?”
“Ready, Dad,” I said.
“Nice and slow, Virgie, with the bike trailer on behind. You’re hauling precious cargo, son.”
“I’ve got it, Dad. I’ll be right behind you.”
We drove out the laneway and it was kind of sad for me and Virge because this was the first real home we’d ever had. But Dad gave us the choice.
He offered to keep this ranch for us, but he wouldn’t be here with us no more. He had to live out the rest of his days in Texas. Had to. Couldn’t get away from it.
Me and Virge chose to leave Montana and stick with our Dad, and it was the right choice for us. Travis didn’t spawn us—we didn’t know who did—but Travis was our real dad. Couldn’t get any realer.
Butte. Montana.
Dad pulled into a truck stop outside of Butte for our first rest stop. The dogs needed a run and Virge needed food.
Me and Virge leashed Max and Sarge and took them for a long walk around the highway property before putting them back in the truck and going into the restaurant to eat.
We glanced at the menu while the waitress stood at the end of the table coming on to Travis. Me and Virge loved to watch it.
“Hi. I’m Wanda and I’ll be your server.”
Whatever chicks needed for a fuckin magnet, our Dad had a truckload of it. Didn’t matter a whit if he was pushing forty. I winked at Virge, and he already had a smirk on his face.
“You on a trip with your boys?” She flipped up the end of her dark brown hair and laid a huge smile on Travis.
“Yeah, we’re moving to Texas.”
“You have a Texas accent already,” she said.
“Uh huh. I’m going home to retire.”
“Retire? You look kinda young for packing it in, cowboy.”
Travis laughed. “I’ve got a lot of miles on me.”
“Few good ones still left. I can see it in your eyes.”
Virge could see Dad starting to get a bit antsy, so he said, “What’s the special, Wanda?”
Wanda turned and pointed to a blackboard up above the counter—a long section with stools in front it. “Lasagna and garlic bread. Comes with coffee and a slice of pie.”
“Good enough for me,” said Virge. “I’ll have that.”
I nodded. “Me too. I love lasagna.”
“Make it three,” said Travis.
“Got it,” said Wanda. “You boys are easy.”
Wanda spun off to put our order in and Virge leaned closer. “That girl is so hot for you, she was ready to do you in the fuckin booth, Dad.”
“Shut up, Virge.”
I couldn’t stop laughing and Dad gave me a look.
Montana/Wyoming Line.
Dad sat on a bench under a big old shade tree while me and Virge ran with Max and Sarge along the dog path. This rest area had a huge wooded section for the dogs. Lots of trees and bushes and a creek running through the bottom of the little gully.
When we ran out the other end of the loop, three bikers had parked their rides in the big rig area, and they were standing in a little hub close to Dad’s bench.
Three against one was about normal odds for bikers. Dad told us most bikers were cowards and they needed the safety of the club behind them to give them false courage. If they were one on one in a fight, they weren’t tough at all.
We ran back with the dogs and stood next to the bench and listened to the bikers trying to get something started with Travis.
They were young—all in their twenties—and they probably saw Travis sitting alone and figured him for an easy mark.
“Yep,” said Travis. “Y’all walk away while y’all can.”
The three of them laughed. “You trying to scare us? It ain’t working.”
“Nope. Just sayin’ I don’t want to hurt y’all for no reason.”
“What if we gave you a reason, cowboy?”
“Be stupid on your part.”
“Don’t see it that way,” said the tallest one. He seemed to be the leader of the three.
“You go ahead and see it anyway you want,” said Travis. “The result will be the same.”
Tall guy pulled his knife, and Travis gave a hand signal to Max. More of a flick of a finger.
A loud growl and one leap, Max had that biker pinned on his back with jaws of steel clamped around his throat.
“Trained dogs. We get it,” said one of the other guys. “Get your dog off Bruno.”
Travis whistled and Max released Bruno and let him up. “Get away from me and my boys and let us be.”
Without any more pissing around, they got on their Harleys and rode off.
Travis gave Max a hug. “Good boy.”
Watertown Trauma Unit. New York State.
Tammy opened her eyes and stared up at one of the ICU nurses. As soon as her eyes were open, she set off a whole chain reaction of activity.
The nurse ran to get the head nurse, who called Tammy’s doctor, who came running and then called in a specialist.
They all hung around Tammy’s bed in a group while the doctors made lists of tests they needed to run.
From the nurses’ station, the head nurse called Detective Carmichael to give him the good news.
“You won’t be able to speak with her until the doctors are finished running their tests. It might be two days or so. Would you like me to give you a call back when you can see her?”
“Yes, thanks for the call.” Carmichael wasn’t happy, but he called Tammy’s father to let him know his daughter was out of the coma.
“This is Travis Frost. Help you?”
“Detective Carmichael from Watertown PD. I just received a call from the trauma unit in Watertown and they tell me your daughter is awake. She came out of the coma.”
“Thanks for the call, Detective. I’m in transit and I can’t get to New York State for a few days, but I’ll keep in touch with the hospital. Appreciate the information.”
Super Eight Hotel. Buffalo. Wyoming.
We stopped driving at dark and pulled into the Super Eight in Buffalo—a place in north Wyoming. Took us all day to get out of Montana. The horses would be tired and cramped up and they needed to be exercised and fed before we got fed or slept.
That made Virge work harder and faster. While the two of us took care of the horses, Travis walked the dogs and got us a room.
We grabbed our luggage, cleaned up in our room and walked down the service road to the bar and grill next door to the hotel.
Cowboy Jack’s Grille. Buffalo. Wyoming.
Dad ordered a pitcher of Miller as soon as we sat down and while we waited for the beer, he laid the news on us.
“Tammy came out of the coma today, boys. The doctors at the trauma unit are running tests on her.”
“How bad is she hurt this time, Dad?” I asked. “How come she was floating in a river anyway?”
“I’ve got none of those answers for you, son. I had Detective Carmichael send copies of his reports to Billy. He’ll have the same information the police have, and he can pass it on to us.”
“Do you think she was trying to kill somebody else?” asked Virge.
“No way of knowing, son. The tests will show if she’s in her right mind or not. They may send her back to the same hospital for another round.”
“Pick a different place,” snapped Virge. “They let her out too soon from that last hospital. I wouldn’t trust those fuckers again.”
“Good point,” said Travis.
The server brought our beer and did a lot of staring at Travis while he read the menu and tried to decide what he wanted to eat.
“My name is Bonnie, and I’ll be your server.”
“Thanks, Bonnie,” said Travis. “How are your steaks?”
“Prime Angus cuts, grilled to perfection. Add mushrooms or fried onions or gravy. Customize your steak exactly the way you want it.”
“Sounds good,” said Travis. “I’ll have the ten-ounce ribeye, medium rare, with mushrooms and onions. Hold the gravy.”
“That comes with mashed or home fries, carrots and a garden salad.”
“Home fries,” said Travis. “What do you boys want?”
“I’ll have the same with mashed,” said Virge. “Save me burning out any of my brain cells.”
I nodded at the server. “Make it three. No mushrooms for me.”
She smiled. “Got it. Let me put your order in and I’ll bring you another pitcher of Miller.”
“Thanks, Bonnie,” hollered Virgil.
“Slow down, Virge,” said Travis. “I’m not carrying your drunk ass back to the hotel.”
“No worries there, Dad. I can handle myself.”
Right after we finished eating, Virge headed for the men’s room.
He didn’t come back right away and then we heard a ruckus at the back of the restaurant.
“Go get him, Harlan, and he’d better not be fighting again.”
“Aw, Jeeze.” I got to Virge in time to see a big biker slam him into the door of the men’s room and knock the wind out of him.
With a loud groan, Virge slumped to the floor in a breathless heap.
“I’ll take my brother.”
“Yeah, get him out of my face unless you want some of the same.”
I tossed Virge over my shoulder and went out the emergency door to the parking lot. Dad caught up after he paid the bill, and I had to carry Virge all the way back to the Super Eight.
Maynooth. Northern Ontario.
Bobby didn’t know why he woke up, and it took a minute before he heard the growling and the crashing around on the back porch of the cabin.
Cleo was on her hind legs barking and jumping up at the window as Bobby dragged himself out of bed.
“What the hell is out there, girl?”
No lights on inside or out and Bobby could see the outline of a huge furry body.
“Bear, Cleo. A huge fuckin bear. You can’t go out.”
Bobby flopped back down on the bed and tried to go back to sleep. Nothing he could do about the bear but wait for it to go away.