“Hold up a second!”
Tawny grunted and pushed through a five-foot drift that had formed around the porch of the cabin. “I’m comin’ but wait for me, I still can’t see very well.”
Zeke was already out of breath and wishing for a beer.
“I’m gonna have to address this drinkin’ thing when this is over,” he said.
“Yeah, but the clouds aren’t as bad, look up…it’s lettin’ some moonlight through,” Tawny answered him, ignoring his comment about his alcoholism.
“But that will be bad and good. I hope it doesn’t light us up when we go to the bank, fer Pete’s sakes.”
“Have you always been so positive? And do you ever hear a word I say, or do you just answer what you think you heard?” Zeke shook his head and headed on toward the shed and the horses.
“Well, for your information, educated people call that “realistic” not negative,” she said as she stomped through the knee-deep snow.
“Are those the same educated people who call an “ass-washer” a “Bidet” when really it is just an ass-washer?”
“Aren’t you cute-always with a sharp, sarcastic response. That’s awful informed talk coming from someone who still thinks spitting in someone’s eye can save it from a burning ember.”
“How does your eye feel?”
“Uh, well…fine actually.”
“I rest my case.”
Zeke stepped into the old shed and looked suspiciously at his horse.
The piebald danced nervously, and both other horses had also crowded each other almost back into the snow storm.
Tawny tripped into the shed behind him and fell face first at his feet. She got up and brushed the snow off.
“What’s wrong?”
“I coulda sworn I buckled that saddle bag when we were out here. I can’t figure out why these horses are so spooked.”
“So, you forgot to buckle it. We were a little distracted and after all, it was Landry’s saddlebags you were looking in, not yours.”
“Maybe you’re right,” he said and shook his head.
The two tightened the cinches on their horses and Tawny reached in her pocket for her hoof pick.
“God, the snow is just packed in his feet,” she said and grunted while she worked to pry it out.
“It’s just gonna get in there again,” Zeke said and reached back into his saddlebags.
“But if you insist, use this.” He handed her a horseshoeing hammer. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
“Here, let me.” Zeke stepped to her horse and tapped lightly on the side of her horse’s hoof, dislodging the snowpack. The block dropped with a light thud onto the dry, old hay in the shed.
“Oh, wow! Thanks!”
Zeke held the horse’s foot a bit longer.
“What kind of shoe is that? I shoe my own horses but have never seen one like that one”
“It’s a special shoe I have made for him because he was foundered when he was younger. My horse-shoer is the only one left in the state who makes his own shoes. He made it.”
“Hmmm.” Zeke mounted the piebald and pulled his collar up around his ears. “Get that money outta that saddlebag and let’s go before I start realizin’ how stupid I am for doin’ this.”
“Well, I already know how stupid we are for doing this,” Tawny quipped and grabbed the canvas bag outta Landry’s saddlebags.
The two mounted their horses and then leapt into the snow and began their journey. They bounded through the nearly two feet of snow that had fallen.
“If you can see, keep your horse where there is sage brush poking through the snow, then we will know there is ground underneath,” Tawny shouted at Zeke.
“Really? I’ve never done this before.”
“O God! Welcome back Zeke. I see the sarcasm machine is back in working order.”
“Why, my dear, it was never out of service.”
The two made their way in snowfall that was intermittently heavy and then light. Clouds moved away from the moon and illuminated their mission and their mood.
Finally, they climbed the butte overlooking Cheyenne, which was so often the photo backdrop of hometown business advertisements. Tawny searched the horizon for the lights that marked the town.
“There’s nothing!”
Zeke rode up beside her and hung his head to his chest for warmth.
“Are you sure you know where you’re at?”
“Of course, I’m sure,” she spat. “Something’s wrong.”
She squinted and strained to see the town she knew was there.
“Look!” Tawny pointed down and to the south edge of the town. “It’s the hospital, there are lights there.”
Zeke leaned forward in his saddle and peered down at the dim lights she pointed at.
“They must have lost power and the hospital is on a generator!”
“Hot damn that is a stroke of luck,” Zeke shouted. “We can get in there and get out and no one will see, let’s go!”
Zeke spurred the piebald and leapt over the side of the butte to the other side through the snow toward town.
Suddenly, it felt like someone or something hit him from the side and knocked him and his horse to the ground, and hard.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he pictured an old wild bull that had nearly taken him out once when he was working as a cowboy on a ranch in Australia and yet, what was that burning in his side and back? And why did it seem like somewhere in the fuzzy mist, he could hear Tawny yelling at him?
His horse struggled to its feet and he lay there in the deep snow for a moment before he opened his eyes. When he did, he saw the stained snow and the truth pushed past his denial and into his awareness. It had finally come, that reality of the life he’d been living.
All he could hear now was the sound of his own breathing and his heart pounding. Then she was there, breathing heavily and beside him in the snow.
“O my God, Zeke! Oh my God Zeke! Oh my God!”
Zeke couldn’t help himself; he had to make a comment.
“Are we at church?”
“Good lord, you’re gonna be sarcastic at a time like this? You’re shot.”
“That had occurred to me. You need to get outta here.”
“Is it the Sheriff? Who would be out here, who would be doing this?”
“There are things I haven’t told you.”
“Ya don’t say? That had also occurred to me.”
Tawny poked her head out of the edges of their little hole in the snow. The two were thankfully burrowed into the depression where he fell.
Another shot rang out from the west, and near the butte where they had both just crossed. She ducked back down.
“Wow, who the hell is that and how can he see us in the dark?”
“It’s a lucky shot. He might be able to see a little bit because of the moon poppin’ out of the clouds now and again,” he said and groaned. “It hurts to talk.”
“Where ya hit?”
“I think down on my right shoulder. I think it went clean through.” Zeke rolled onto his left side with her help. A pool of blood and snow mixed into a macabre snow cone.
“Can you get on your horse? We gotta get you down to the hospital.”
“I can get on my horse, but I’m not going down there.”
She stopped and looked at the man hard in his face. “What the f-heck is going on?”
“Good girl, you didn’t say it. Anyway, there is too much to tell, I know who is shooting. They are bad guys and I been knowin’ they would come after me some day. I didn’t think it would be today and in this weather. But looks like I was wrong. Today’s that day.”
“Well, technically, it isn’t day yet,” Tawny said and then laughed, not really understanding why.
“Hey, you made a sarcastic funny,” Zeke croaked out weakly. “No f-bomb and a funny in the same two minutes. I’m proud of you.”
“Who are they Zeke? Are they criminals you have been mixed up with? Is that why you came here to the ranch?”
“No, not criminals per se, but it’s too much to explain and you have more important things to do,” he spoke between grunts.
“You have to keep going now. Do this thing we decided to do, you and me.” He stopped and panted. “Help me get back on my horse and I’ll draw them out in another direction. You make like you’re goin’ back to the cabin and then when I get em drawn in the other direction, I’ll fire a shot. You turn back around and take the money to the bank.”
“Why are you doing this? Why is this money we have nothing to do with so important to you? Why is it for you to put back?”
“Because it is the first thing I’ve done right in two years and it might be the last thing too.”
A tear dripped off Tawny’s nose and splashed on Zeke’s forehead.
“Oh, Sugar Britches, there’s no cryin’ now. Just git me up here and let’s keep going?”
Tawny peeked up over the snow mound again.
“How we gonna do this? We don’t need to get shot.”
“He can’t see it was a lucky shot in the dark. Shoot back in that direction.” Zeke handed her his Colt.
She stuck her hand out of the hole and fired a shot. Then she struggled to help him to his feet, and he leaned against the piebald.
“Wait, when I get back, what then? Where will we meet?”
“We won’t. I will be gone,” he said. He then lifted his left leg and painfully placed his foot in the stirrup. “And if I do this right, you’ll never have to explain or do anything else with this whole thing.”
“Where do I go after the bank and what about your dog?”
“Go back the way we came and stay with the others and help them get out. Take em back the way we came in from the north the first time. I will go south and draw these guys in that direction.” Zeke took a break to catch a breath. “Keep the dog. He’s a good one.”
“What do I tell Dwight Morris? He’s gonna want to know what happened.”
“Tell ‘im that, like every cowboy you’ve ever known, I got pissed and took off to parts unknown.” Zeke’s horse pranced, nervous still from falling.
“Look, one more thing,” Zeke said.
Tawny glanced around quickly, getting antsy about standing there with someone shooting at them, whether they could see or not. She looked up at the cloud cover over the moon for that moment.
“What?”
“You’re gonna be fine…you’re a woman.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Tawny handed him the gun.
“You’ll figure it out.”
He shoved his leg into the Piebald and the horse snorted and leapt back into a lunging run through the deep snow toward the south.
In two leaps she could no longer hear or see him. Besides the bloodied patch of snow where he’d fallen, it was as if he’d never been there.
Landry awakened by something soft and wet kissing him.
It was pushing on his forehead with soft grunts followed by a smacking sound, and he dreamed in his fitful sleep that it was Tippi.
He woke and opened his eyes to the face of a Hereford calf trying to nurse.
He chuckled and called to Tippi, who had found a restless kind of sleep where Tawny had rested earlier. She jumped up, alarmed by his call.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, just come over here and get this calf off a me.”
She trotted over but stood with her hands out.
“What do I do?”
“Just put yer arms around him and guide him away.” Landry struggled to his feet. He felt stronger now after sleeping and not so sick.
Tippi pushed the calf around and scratched its head.
“Poor little thing. It’s hungry.”
She wandered around looking in the pantry that looked as if it had been years since anyone had touched what was in the cabinets. Nutmeg, cinnamon, and a host of other spices had dust so thick on them that when she pulled them down and blew on the tops, it clouded the air around her.
“What are you doin’” Landry said, stopping at a chair and resting.
“I’m lookin’ to see if there is something to feed this baby cow with.” She turned and looked hard at Landry. “Where do you think they are?”
He glanced at his watch.
“They are almost there, God willing.”
Tippi resumed her search and found flour, salt and some old, dried beef. She found pancake mix, sugar and some old vanilla.
“Can I feed it pancake batter?”
“Honey, you really are a city girl aren’t you.” Landry eased over to the calf and scratched its head.
“Is there any sugar?”
“Yep, got sugar?”
“Get some snow, melt it and mix the sugar and a little pinch a salt with it.”
“Okay. But, how will we feed it to it?
“We’ll figure it out when you get that done.” Landry was quiet while Tippi focused on mixing the sugar and melted snow over the fire.
“Ya think they’ll come back?” It was the question they both had, since the two had left with the money.
Sweat glistened from his forehead and he still had the shakes from the bite.
Tippi didn’t answer him.
“If they aren’t back by day break, we’ll get the horse and head back.”
“What then, Landry?”
“Well, you’ll go back to your life and if they did what they said they would, I’ll go about mine and try to make up for this thing in other ways.”
“Oh, so you’re going to do self-imposed community service?”
“Something like that.”
“What if they took off with the money?”
“That’s another thing.”
“What then?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
“What about us?”
Landry remained quiet for a minute.
“I ain’t got a clue. It’s ‘bout the best answer I can give right now.” Landry said looking straight at her. “I owe ya. I know that’s true. But I got nuthin’ to offer. And when we get back, I got some work to do to make this right.” He looked down. “What’r you gonna do?”
“I’m gonna write that Pulitzer Prize winner.”
Landry stiffened.
“What?”
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to give any details that’ll give any of it away, you’ll just have to trust me on this one.”
“But if they think you know, they’ll try and force you. Might even put you in jail if you don’t tell.”
“They can try. But I’m a reporter. We accept those kinds of sacrifices to protect our source.”
“I don’t know Tippi.” Landry looked worried.
“Look, everyone here has had to make a choice to do not only what is right for each other, but what is also right for us. This is my ‘right thing’ and if you really believe you owe me as you say, you will just trust me to do it and still protect you and help you even. If I write this the right way, it will include that the money was put back. It will help.”
“Okay.” Landry shook his head. “I recon you’re right girl. I hope you know what you’re doing.”
