“I thought you wanted to show me some things,” David said to Mel.
“I do, buddy. You’ve already seen everything they are bringing up. But when they are done, I’ll show you what’s left,” Mel said, with a wink and a pained grin.
An hour and a half later, all the provisions were loaded onto the trailers.
“Is that everything?” Mel asked Tom, who was the last man up.
“Yes, sir. That’s everything.”
“Okay, David. Now for the fun part,” said Mel, smiling.
“Dad!” called Mark over the radio. “I’ve got a guy 100 yards out, coming through the trees. I can’t see him clearly, but he’s got a rifle.”
“Anyone else on the perimeter have an eye on him?” asked David, hoping for a yes.
“No… No… Not me,” came the responses.
“Dad, I’ve got this,” said Mark in a calm voice. “You told us no one gets through.”
David was now regretting his words, but he knew those men were bound to come back.
“Okay, son. Take him out,” David ordered.
Seconds later, the “Boom!” came from Mark’s rifle.
“He’s down,” Mark said in an anxious but excited voice. “He’s hit, but he’s fumbling with a radio, I think.”
“Don’t let him get that message out!” called David over the radio.
Mark fired again, missing his target. The third shot hit his mark in the chest.
“I think he’s done,” called Mark over the radio.
“David,” came a low voice over the radio. “David.”
“Dad, is that you?” he asked confused.
“David,” he repeated. “I’ve been shot. Please help me.”
David nearly fell over as he felt his stomach buckle.
“Hold your fire!” he yelled, as he ran towards the shots his only son had just fired into the trees.
“Dad! Dad!” he screamed over and over as he narrowed the distance with each step and labored breath. As he neared the downed man, slumped over with his face in the dirt, he saw the watch his father had worn for the last 30 years, stained with blood.
“Oh no, oh no, Dad!” he cried.
“It’s going to be okay,” he cried out, as he held him in his arms. “I’m going to fix this. I’m going to make you better. I’m going to…” David turned his dead father over and stared into his still-open eyes. “Oh, God! What have I done?”
David ran full out towards Mark, hoping to reach him before he could see what happened.
Mark watched the scene through his rifle scope and couldn’t believe his eyes. Feeling dizzy, he vomited onto the ground and prayed to God for forgiveness.
Without a word, he raised his rifle, pointing it just under his chin. “Forgive me, Father,” he said aloud, as he pulled the trigger.
“Click!” came the sound of Mark’s rifle, and David froze, now close enough to see his son. He felt pain in his upper chest, like a python was squeezing him to death. David let out a scream that pierced the forest.
Mark, realizing his gun had jammed, was trying to clear the jam when his friend Chad tackled him. “Get off me!” he screamed, fighting to keep the weapon.
David made it just in time to wrestle the rifle away from Mark. He held his son close.
“Let me go, Dad,” he demanded through his tears.
“No, son. I can’t do that. It’s my fault, Mark,” he added. “It’s all my fault, and I’m not going to lose you too.”
David tasked Chad with helping him to get his only son home.
He briefed Mel and a shocked group about what had happened, vowing to return soon to pick up the bodies.
“We’ll get everything out of the house,” Mel told him soberly. “Take care of your boy.”
David rode the four-wheeler, insisting Mark ride on the back. Passing by his father, they both stared off into the woods where he lay.
Neither spoke a word as they headed back up to the house.
* * * *
Beatrice was out front as they pulled up. She had heard the shots, and somehow, she just knew.
The look on her son and grandson’s faces told her everything.
“Mom,” said David, with tears running down his cheeks… “I’m so…” is all he could get out.
“I don’t deserve to live,” choked Mark, speaking for the first time since leaving his post.
“No, Mark. We won’t be doing that,” said Beatrice. “We’ve lost enough. No more!” she said sternly.
“If you’re going to blame someone, don’t you dare blame yourselves,” she told both of them.
“You blame me. I sent him there to help,” she said.
“We are going to talk about what happened, just the three of us right now,” she added. “When we’re done, we will honor him every day and speak of this no more.”
David kept a close eye on his son, forbidding him from carrying a firearm for now.
Beatrice kept a closer eye on both of them, making them promise her they would not hurt or blame themselves for the accident. Mark was reluctant to make the promise, but after a private, nearly one-hour talk with his grandmother, he did.
David knew better than to ask either one of them about what had been said.
* * * *
Mel and Tammie were settling into their new house, which David had approved, taking the reins from his father.
Most of Mel’s provisions were stored in the basement but would be divided over several locations in the coming days.
David heard that his mom had talked to Lance on the radio and would try to connect in the morning. He wasn’t sure what to say about his dad, but he promised his mother that he would always refer to it as a tragic accident.
For the very first time in his life, David did not fear death. He looked forward to the time he could apologize to his father, face-to-face. His job now was to look after his mother and son.
The service for Dean and Jimmy was quick that afternoon, with everyone pitching in. The newly acquired members of the Raton Pass Militia prepared the grave sites, with all in attendance saying what they admired about them. David and Beatrice kept a close eye on Mark.
David had all but forgotten about Mel’s surprise provisions and brought it up casually the next morning over a tall cup of camp coffee.
“So, what did I miss?” he asked his old friend, “about the extra gear?” His voice was still strained from yesterday’s happenings.
“First of all,” replied Mel, “I want to say that I’m sorry about your dad. He was a good man and we will all miss him here.”
“Thanks, my friend,” David choked out.
“Secondly,” replied Mel, understanding a change of topic was sorely needed, “we were able to recover all the special things I had stored and wanted to show you.”
“Ok, buddy, what have you got?” asked David, with Mark looking on.
* * * * * * *
Chapter Eleven ~
Second Chances Ranch
Weston, Colorado
Chance settled in on his first night home, sleeping just inside the front door.
“Okay, buddy,” said James, as he got ready for the 6 a.m. chores. “No more leashes. You’re free to roam, but you’ll pull your weight, Chance.”
He barked and ran outside, as James opened the front door, and waited for instructions.
Jason was up early and ready to get started, with his hip mending well. “I can’t wait to help you get things done around here,” he said to James.
“I know, Jason. For now, just keep your eyes open. Learning how it’s done is 90 percent, and the other ten is just execution,” said James. “We will work on ranch security this afternoon.”
Chance barked as he ran up to the front gate of the property, tail wagging.
James could see an old pickup truck coming down the highway a couple of miles away.
He jumped off the tractor and helped Jason down.
“Locked and loaded, Jason?” he asked.
�
�Yep,” he replied from behind the tractor. “Why is Chance wagging his tail, though?”
“I don’t know,” replied James. “Wait! I know that truck,” he said, as it came clearly into view. “It’s Sheriff Johnson.”
They met the Sheriff at the gate.
“Hello, Sheriff,” said James, as they shook hands just outside the front gate. “This is Jason, the fellow I was telling you about.”
“Good to meet you, Jason,” said Sheriff Johnson. “And good to see you again, Chance,” he added, reaching down to pat the dog’s head.
“What happened to your leg?” he asked? “Was that from the other night?”
“No, Sheriff. Just a four-wheeler accident, but it’s healing right up,” replied Jason.
“Sorry to hear about your troubles with the two men the other night.”
“Thank you, sir,” replied Jason. “I’m glad it’s behind us now.”
“Well, that’s partly why I’m here this morning,” said Sheriff Johnson, now talking to both of them. “Mind if I come up to the house for a cup of coffee?”
“Sure,” replied James.
“Honey,” James announced, as he opened the front door to the house. “The good Sheriff’s here.”
“Hi,” said Janice, coming out from the kitchen to greet him. “Can I make you some breakfast, sir,” she asked.
“Oh no, Ma’am, but I would love a cup of coffee if it’s not too much trouble.”
“Not at all. I have a pot on already.”
“Mind if we talk for a minute, just the adults?” the Sheriff asked.
“Girls, go upstairs and play for a little bit,” said Lauren.
“You know, I realized I’ve never been up to your house, James. Been past it many times but never realized how impressive it is.”
“Thank you, Sheriff,” James responded. “So, to what do we owe the pleasure?”
“Well, you may remember a couple of months ago when our little town was gearing up for the elections. Judge Lowry was running unopposed, but my post was up for a vote, along with a few city council seats and the Mayor’s position. Then, when it all went to hell, everything just got put on hold.
“My opponent, Mr. Grimes, was up in Colorado Springs when it hit; and well, somehow, he’s back and wants an election.
“Judge Lowry and I see eye-to-eye on most things having to do with our town, but he thinks we need to have an election for Sheriff, more of a formality than anything else. Wants the townsfolk to have their say and gain their support for the future expansion of our town.
“Speaking with him yesterday, I mentioned there were good folks like you just outside the town limits who wouldn’t be able to cast a vote and have your say.
“He’s considering extending the city limits by 20 miles in each direction, to become effective immediately.
“In that scenario, would I be able to count on your votes?”
“Absolutely, Sheriff,” said James, “and I think I can speak for all here as well.” Everyone nodded in agreement.
“I would also ask that you, James, consider a run for a city council seat.”
“You’ve got our votes, you can count on that, but as far as the council seat, I’m not sure I’d be the right man for the job,” replied James.
“Just tell me you will think on it is all,” said the Sheriff.
“Okay, I’ll do that.”
“One last thing,” said Sheriff Johnson. “Judge Lowry and I both want to make our growing town a place where our citizens can feel safe. The Judge has decided not to waste valuable resources, including prolonged shelter, food, water, and medical supplies on those who choose to commit crimes in our town.
“The two men who attacked you and your family, Jason, as well as the gun thief dressed as a priest, and another man caught stealing chickens from a nearby ranch, will be hanged in the town square in three days’ time.”
“Hanged?” asked Lauren, with a shocked look on her face.
“Yes, Ma’am, and the Judge is requesting all able-bodied adults to bear witness to the proceedings.
“The structure will take a couple of days to erect. He thought about doing it on Saturday but didn’t want to put a damper on the trading.
“I can expect you all to be there, except for maybe you?” he said, pointing at Jason.
“I suppose we could, but we’ve got the three little ones also,” said James, pointing upstairs.
“No problem. We have that worked out. All children under age 15 will be in the schoolhouse with three of our best teachers. They need to be dropped off between 8 and 8:30 a.m., according to the Main Street clock.
“The sentencing will take place at 9 a.m. sharp, and we should be done by 9:30, I’m guessing.”
“Who’s going to do it?” asked Lauren. “I mean, who’s going to pull the lever?”
“That will be me,” said the Sheriff. “Thank you, Janice, for the coffee,” he said as he stood. “I’ll see you all on Wednesday.
“And James, give some thought about the council position. I could use a good man in that post.”
They saw the Sheriff off and finished the morning chores.
“What’s this about a city council position?” asked Janice over breakfast.
“Sheriff Johnson brought it up, and it’s the last thing I want to do right now,” answered James. “Let’s take a ride around the perimeter of the property after breakfast, Jason. I want Chance to know the boundaries.”
“Sounds good, and maybe you could teach me a few things about your gardens. I want to know as much as possible, so I can start pulling my weight around here.”
“Sure thing,” replied James, laughing. “I think we’re going to get along just fine.”
After riding the property, James told Jason he had a surprise for him.
On the far east side of the house was a green door, with the letters RT, and a red door with UG stenciled on the front.
“What’s in there?” asked Jason. “Some kind of root cellar?”
“Well, yes and no,” said James, with a laugh and a childlike grin. “This door here gives access to two of my favorite places on the property. The problem is, both have stairs. May be a while before I can show you.”
“Unless you can help me,” said Jason.
“Oh, no! Janice would kill me if I took you in there. She’d want your leg to be good and healed first.”
“Your ranch, your call,” said Jason, “but now you’ve got me intrigued, and I don’t think the girls are expecting us back anytime soon.”
“All right. I’ll tell you what. We’ll do the easy one first and see how it goes,” said James, taking the padlock off the red door. “UG is for underground,” he said, as he opened the creaking door. “Could use some WD-40,” he added.
James shined the light down the stairwell. “Just two flights down, if you can manage, Jason.”
“Give me your shoulder, James, and we should be all right.”
After ten minutes, they made it to the bottom.
“Ready?” asked James, as he shined the light into the dark room below.
“Wow!” said Jason. “I was not expecting that… Is that what I think it is? Is that a still?”
“It is, and a highly functioning one at that. I had to fly a guy in from Tennessee to help me set it up properly. He used to work for a famous whisky maker you may have heard of before going out on his own. It’s not as easy as it sounds to set up, but once it’s done, it nearly runs itself.”
“I’m surprised, because…well, with all the religious stuff you were telling me about, I mean.”
“Janice and I are religious to the very core, and we’re also Catholic. Show me a Catholic who doesn’t have a drink from time to time,” he added.
“What do you do with all this?” asked Jason.
“Well, we’ve been trading with the locals in the area for years. It’s partly how we were able to afford this property and build the main house and barns. We started in a small camper for the first three yea
rs, after buying the property. All we had was the camper and this here still. I also worked in town part-time with a guy named David, who lives just up the mountain.”
“I never got why people would buy moonshine over going to the liquor store,” said Jason.
Next World Series (Vol. 2): Families First [The Road] Page 12
