Winds of Wyoming (A Kate Neilson Novel)

by Lyles, Rebecca Carey

  But she couldn’t hold the gun steady. “Help me, God. I have to save Tramp.”

  Shoot high.

  Balanced on her elbow, she pressed the trigger. But her arm wavered and the gun fired low. Almost the instant the pistol discharged, she heard a frantic yelp and the sound of scrabbling in the bushes. Then silence. Dead silence.

  Kate waited, her heart racing, but Tramp did not return. She called and called. “Tramp, come here! Tramp ...” Though she managed a weak whistle, the dark woods offered no response, not even chirps or squeaks.

  Tears streaming down her face, she panned the area with the light. Was the beast coming after her next? The beam weakened. She turned off the flashlight, dropped it and the gun on the ground, drew the blankets up and lay back.

  Even colder than before, she shivered so hard it hurt. “God …” Her teeth chattered. “I’ve never in my life been this scared.” Fear was nothing new to her, but the source had always been people … not wild animals.

  I will never leave you or forsake you.

  She hugged her quaking ribs. Is it true? Are you really here with me right now?

  Look up.

  She lifted her gaze above the treetops. From the midst of a cluster of brilliant, shimmering stars, a solitary luminary, one that shone brighter than the others, glided near the earth, changing colors. The final color, violet, erupted in a glittering shower of lavender that floated onto her face, the touch of the tiny petals as soft as a kitten’s paw. A fragrant aroma blanketed the forest floor. The smell enveloped her, calmed her, warmed her. She fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

  ***

  Later—how much later, she couldn’t tell—Kate heard a twig snap. She lifted her head but saw nothing in the inky-black night, not even stars. Clouds must have moved in while she slept.

  The ground shook, and she heard sounds she couldn’t decipher. She grabbed the revolver and sat up, barely breathing, nearly strangled by fright. When she heard the rhythmic beat of horses trotting up the trail and saw a swaying shaft of light, she dropped the gun and fell back, too spent to stay upright any longer.

  The horses stopped. A voice broke into the night. The first voice she’d heard in hours, and it was Mike’s. “Here’s my marker. I’ll cut the trees apart. She’s on the other side.”

  Kate closed her eyes. “Thank you, God.”

  In moments, Mike was beside her, a flashlight in his hand.

  She couldn’t hide her tears.

  He dropped the light and pulled her close. “I’m sorry it took me so long, Kate. My horse threw a shoe and I had to walk him part way, but I called the hospital the moment we got to the ranch. A life-flight helicopter is on the way.”

  “M-Mike …” Though she sobbed and her teeth chattered, she tried to talk. “I killed … him.”

  He rubbed her back. “We brought more blankets and some hot pads. You’ll feel better when we get you warmed up.”

  “No.” She moaned, twisting her head back and forth. “It’s Tramp.”

  He looked around. “Where is he? He should be taking care of you.”

  She clutched his arm. “I’m so sorry, Mike.”

  “For what?”

  “I killed Tramp. Something growled in the bushes …” Her breath between words and sobs came in short, hiccupping gasps. “And he ran after it. I tried to shoot high, but I lost my aim.” She hiccupped again. “I didn’t mean to kill him ...”

  She felt his arm muscles stiffen and knew he finally understood. She began to cry harder.

  He lowered her to the ground. “I forgot you shouldn’t be sitting up. You need to lie flat.”

  Her back was fine, but his dog wasn’t. “I wanted to scare the other animal. Instead …” She was crying so hard she could barely talk. “Instead, I ... First your brother, then your dad. Now Honey is gone and so is Tramp. I—”

  “Honey beat us to the barn, just as I expected. And Tramp did what I left him here to do—protect you.”

  “He saved my life.” She moaned. “Then I killed him.”

  “Calm down.” He spoke above her head. “Do you have the blankets, Cyrus?”

  “Yep. And Manuel has the warming pads.”

  “Put the pads on top of these blankets and the other blankets on top of the pads.”

  Cyrus knelt beside her. “Mrs. D made these a couple years back. They’re filled with rice. We keep some in the freezer and some ready to heat in the microwave.”

  She felt something hot and heavy on her chest that smelled like food. Her “thank you,” spoken through hiccupping, chattering teeth, sounded like a foreign language.

  He laid two more hot pads across her torso. “You won’t thank me when I put the cold ones on your leg. Which leg is broken?”

  She couldn’t think clearly enough to answer.

  Mike spoke for her. “Left.”

  The cold packs hurt, but Kate focused on the delicious whorl of heat spinning through her upper body. They laid more blankets on her. Cyrus asked, “Can you move your neck?”

  She answered by moving her chin toward one shoulder, then the other.

  “Good. Hold her head up, Mike, and I’ll pour hot chocolate down her throat.”

  “You sure? I don’t want to cause any more damage.”

  “My neck is okay.” Kate wiped tears from her cheeks. “I sat up several times while you were gone.”

  “Even so, we need to be careful.” He slowly raised her head with one hand and held the light with the other.

  Though his warm hand felt wonderful, she was once more reminded of the prison infirmary—and the confined helplessness she’d experienced while chained to a hospital bed and guarded by a correctional officer as a nameless doctor aborted her baby. She blinked. There it was again—her baby.

  Cyrus lifted the cup to her lips. “Drink up.”

  Startled by the rich smell of chocolate, she just looked at him.

  “Go ahead, Kate.” Mike put the flashlight on the ground and took the cup. “You need to raise your core temperature.”

  She drank, the compassion in his voice warming her heart as the silky liquid heated her ribs. “Thank you, both of you.”

  “Drink it all,” Cyrus commanded.

  She did, sip by sip, picturing ice shards shooting off her body and rocketing into the night. She finished with a whisper. “I’ve never tasted anything so good in all my life.”

  Mike laid her head down and tucked the blankets around her neck. “You’re not shivering as much.” He sniffed, picked up the flashlight and aimed the beam at the ground. “Strange. I smell flowers, but I don’t see any.”

  She smiled, remembering the colorful star and the shower of lavender.

  Cyrus stood. “I can’t help but say you eastern girls are mighty uncoordinated.”

  Mike grunted. “That’s not funny, Cyrus.”

  She slipped her arm out from the under the blankets to touch Cyrus’s leg. “I’m sorry I forgot lunch duty.”

  She couldn’t see his face, but his voice was gruff. “That’s a whole ’nother matter.” He shifted out of her reach. “Want me to go start the fire for the ‘copter, Boss?”

  “Yeah, we need to do that pronto. I made a fire pit in the clearing about a mile up the trail. The pilot ought to be able to see the blaze and land on the ledge. Do you think the EMTs will want to walk or ride?”

  “Hard to say. I’ll take all three horses, just in case.” Cyrus disappeared. Moments later, he led the horses around Kate.

  Again, she felt the tremor and heard the drum of hooves. The dust made her sneeze. Her head felt ready to burst.

  Mike spoke to the darkness. “Manuel, light that lantern and come sit with Kate while I look for Tramp.”

  “Okay.” Moments later, Manuel sat on the ground beside her, a propane lantern in his hand. “Smells like my mom’s closet.”

  Kate smiled at the private joke between her and God.

  Mike stepped into the bushes. “I won’t be long.”

  Kate heard him call for h
is dog, and heart broke. She dreaded the moment he found his ever-present companion’s mangled body.

  She turned to Manuel, grateful for a diversion from the sadness and pain. “I’m so glad you’re here. When I’m alone with the forest noises, my imagination runs wild.”

  “The helicopter will be here soon to fly you to a hospital.”

  “Do you know where?”

  “Probably Rawlins. That’s where they took my sister when she got bit by a rattlesnake.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “Yeah, she’s fine. They gave her antivenom and kept her overnight.”

  Kate wondered how long she’d be hospitalized. Would she lose her job? Where would she go? She didn’t want to return to Pittsburgh and the life she’d lived there.

  “Do you want to talk about something?” Manuel swung the lantern between his knees. “It might help pass the time.”

  “That’s a good idea … but I don’t feel up to talking much. Would you like to tell me about you and your family?”

  He shrugged. “There’s not much to say. My father’s family came from Mexico, but we’ve been here for four generations. My dad herds sheep not far from here, like my grandfather and great-grandfather before him. My mom, whose family settled in Arizona, makes jewelry and takes care of me and my brother and sister.”

  “What about you, Manuel? Do you plan to herd sheep for a livelihood?”

  “Good question.” He swung the light back and forth. “It’s a family tradition, but …” He leaned forward. “I think sheepherding is boring.”

  “Is there something you’d rather do?”

  Mike’s voice, still calling Tramp, sounded far away.

  Kate shuddered. What if he found his dog half-eaten? Or encountered a wild animal gnawing on him. Help him, God.

  “Want more hot chocolate?” Manuel reached for the flask.

  “I’ll take that along with some ibuprofen.” She felt for the pill bottle near her leg and handed it to him.

  He shook the painkiller into her hand before awkwardly lifting her head and holding the hot chocolate to her mouth, so she could swallow the pills.

  Despite his discomfort, she let him care for her. She felt too weak to even grasp a cup. “Thank you, Manuel. You can’t imagine how good that feels going down.”

  After twisting the plug and cap back onto the thermos, Manuel set it on the ground next to the lantern. “I don’t want to be a sheepherder. Plus, I need to leave this area. I’m not sure what I’ll do. Maybe hire on at a ranch somewhere else.”

  “Why do you need to leave?”

  “I have a bad reputation. People avoid me.”

  “I don’t understand. You’re a great guy.”

  “You mean you haven’t heard?”

  “I heard you spent a few months in reform school for killing an antelope.”

  He looked down. “Nine months. Got out early on good behavior.”

  “Good for you.”

  “Doesn’t matter. No one is impressed, except my parents. And Mrs. D. She called me up and hired me back. She didn’t have to do that.”

  “She’s a sweet lady.”

  “She’s a good boss, too. So was Mr. D.”

  “I bet he was.”

  Manuel paused for a moment. “Do you think I’m a loser?”

  “Why would I think that?”

  “Because I had to go to reform school.”

  She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again and plunged ahead. “I’m probably more impressed than your parents that you got out early on good behavior. I’ve been there, done that and have to confess my own conduct worsened in reform school.”

  Even in the muted light, she could see his eyes widen.

  He leaned forward. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

  “No. It’s the truth. I spent eighteen months in a Pennsylvania reform school. And five years in prison.” She sighed, resigned to total confession. “Plus, I’ve been jailed more times than I remember. I’ve got a rap sheet as long as the Constitution. But I know that’s not what will happen to you because—”

  A loud bang fractured the quiet night. Kate raised her head. “What …?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  KATE LOOKED AT MANUEL. “Was that what I think it was?” She’d heard plenty of gunfire when she hung out on the streets. But that noise echoed between buildings. This was different.

  “Sounded like a gunshot to me. Do you think …?”

  “Think what?”

  “I hate to say it …” He sighed. “But maybe Mike found his dog injured but not dead, so he had to finish the job.”

  Kate groaned. “How awful.”

  “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  She bit her lip, trying not to cry.

  Manuel cleared his throat. “Does anyone else at the ranch know you were in prison?”

  “No.”

  He slumped against a tree trunk. “I wish I could erase what I did.”

  Oh, how she knew that feeling. Kate let her head drop back onto the pine needle pillow.

  “The truth is, I can barely remember what happened, because I was drunk. The only time in my life I got drunk, and I can’t even remember it.”

  “Want to tell me about it?”

  “I’d like a chance to tell one person the truth.” He paused. “But it would make you sick.” He tossed a pinecone at a boulder.

  “If I told you the things I did, you’d get even sicker.”

  “But you don’t seem like, like a … you know ...”

  “A felon?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “That’s all behind me.”

  “So what changed you?”

  “Well, obviously, reform school didn’t help.” She shifted to get more comfortable, which triggered another pain sharp enough to take her breath away. When she could speak again, she said, “Actually, it was an experience I had in prison. I met an inmate who had this peaceful glow about her—”

  Manuel sat taller. “What’s that noise?”

  Kate listened. Something large was crashing through the underbrush. “Maybe it’s Mike.”

  “Maybe, but it sounds really big, like a bear or an elk. I wish I had a gun.”

  “I’ve got Mike’s revolver.” She lifted it from under the blankets. “Do you know how to shoot? It’s loaded.”

  “My dad taught me how. He keeps guns at his sheep wagon.” He took the gun and stood.

  Kate’s teeth began to chatter again. The slightest tension seemed to set her off. When would it all end?

  The noise drew nearer. She lifted her head.

  Manuel gripped the gun with both hands, legs spread wide. Kate could barely see his outline, but she could tell he was trembling. She prayed he’d be able to do what he needed to do.

  Glimmers of light flickered between the trees.

  Kate dropped her head back. “Mike ...”

  Manuel lowered the gun.

  Mike broke through the trees onto the trail, somehow holding his dog, the light and the rifle.

  Kate swallowed a sob. He was going to bury Tramp on the ranch.

  He carefully placed the dog on the ground. “There you go, boy.”

  Her tears fell like rain, wetting her hair. He was talking to his dead dog. She could smell the blood.

  Manuel bent over the body. “Where did you find him?”

  The sound of a muted whimper made Kate jerk upright. “Did Tramp make that noise?”

  “Yeah.” Mike was breathing hard. “He’s alive but in bad shape. I found him down at the creek soaking his wounds.”

  She lay back and spoke to the sky. “I’m so sorry I shot your dog.”

  “You didn’t shoot him. The wolves tore him up.”

  “But I heard—”

  “Your shot injured a wolf and scared off several others, by the looks of the tracks. The female I found was alive but down after dragging herself a ways. I killed her to end her misery—and to make sure we have one less wolf in thes
e mountains.”

  Manuel stood. “That must have been the gunshot we heard.”

  Wolves, plural. Kate could barely speak. “Tramp ... will he …?”

  “I hope so.” Mike’s voice sounded weary. He moved close and patted her shoulder. “You and Tramp had quite a night.”

  A wave of terror, pain and fatigue surged through Kate, nearing its peak. She could feel herself reaching the limit of her endurance. But Chaplain Sam’s favorite Bible verse rode the crest of the wave. My grace is sufficient for you.

  ***

  The sound of shoes shuffling across a tile floor tugged Kate from a deep sleep. Ramsey and Tramp had led the correctional officers to her. They were coming to take her back to Patterson.

  “Kate, honey, wake up.”

  She felt someone squeeze her hand.

  “You had a bad night, but you’re safe now.”

  Kate peered through narrow slits. Mrs. D? In her cell? How did she sneak past the guards?

  “You’re in a hospital in Rawlins.”

  Kate looked around. The peach-colored room smelled like the prison clinic. “Wha …?” She tried to talk but could only croak.

  Laura reached for a cup on the night stand. “Suck on some ice. That will help the dryness.” Using a plastic spoon, she slipped ice chips between Kate’s lips. “Do you remember Honey throwing you?”

  Kate closed her eyes, and the long night spooled across the screen of her eyelids. She nodded. Yes, she remembered Honey.

  “More ice?”

  She opened her mouth.

  Laura gave her another spoonful. “They airlifted you to the hospital and took you into surgery right away.”

  “Surgery?” Kate sputtered around the ice.

  A masculine voice said, “That’s right.”

  Kate looked toward the end of the bed, where a tall, gray-haired man in a polo shirt and khaki shorts stood, chart in hand. “I don’t know if you remember me, Ms. Neilson. I’m Dr. Wayne Walker. We met last night, when the Life Flight crew brought you in. I talked with you and gave you some forms to sign.”

  She swallowed the ice. “What forms?”