Beneath the Tombstone (The Tombstone Series)

by Martin Cogburn

  Finally, Tyler sat up with a gasp. His eyes were big, shining in the small amount of moonlight that filtered through the canvas tent. After sitting for a moment, he crawled out of his sleeping bag and on out the tent without a word. A moment later, Jason stuck his head out and watched the tall cowboy disappear into the night.

  Rye stuck his head out of the other tent and spoke in a quiet and sober voice, “I forgot to tell you that snoring ain’t the only noise he makes at night… sometimes he does that, too.” With that, he disappeared back inside the tent.

  Jason soon returned to his sleeping bag but not to sleep. His heart had been too jumpstarted by the commotion to allow for that any time soon.

  It seemed like hours later when Tyler returned. Without a word, he returned to his sleeping bag, got in and lay there, staring up at the top of the tent.

  “You okay?” Jason asked after several moments of silence.

  “Yep,” Tyler replied flatly as he rolled over, turning his back to Jason. There was nothing left to do but assume that meant the conversation was over.

  - - - - - -

  Hints of the morning sun was just beginning to show on the eastern horizon when Jason stuck his head out of the tent, having been drawn from his sleep by sounds outside. Irwin and Rye were busy tending the fire, trying to cox it back to life from the few coals that had survived the night. Tyler stood outlined by the sunrise, his dark silhouette making a sweeping motion as he swung a saddle up on one of the cow-horses. Jason quickly ducked his head back inside, threw on his clothes and pulled on his boots before hurrying from the tent.

  “Why didn’t you wake me up?” Jason asked as he approached the tall horseman.

  Tyler glanced up from his task of cinching up one of the horses. “Figured I’d let you sleep in a bit,” he responded quietly before returning to his task. “Was the least I could do after keepin’ you up half the night.”

  “Aw, that’s okay,” Jason said then paused for a moment. “You have nightmares a lot?” he asked.

  “Every once in a while,” Tyler responded.

  Several moments of silence passed before Jason reached over and absent-mindedly gave the horse a gentle rub. “You said sometimes dreams mean things. Do your dreams mean anything?”

  “Yep,” Tyler replied soberly. “They mean the past is still present.”

  Jason desperately wanted to pry for more information, but Tyler cut that hope off short. “Smells like breakfast is cookin’,” the tall cowboy said, giving the horse a pat on the rump before heading off in the direction of the fire which had been coxed back to life.

  Jason followed him over, and the two cowboys sat down by the fire and watched as Rye and Irwin cooked. Soon, the smell of bacon and coffee began to grace the cool morning air with its delightful presence. Irwin pulled some biscuits from a sack and put them in the bacon pan to warm and moisten in the hot grease. After a few minutes, Rye announced that breakfast was ready and so the four cowboys began pouring coffee and piling bacon and biscuits in a heap on their plates. After they’d all eaten, the men broke camp, stepped up into their saddles and rode off into the sunrise.

  They gathered the herd into the corral, and the day went much like the one before. The only thing different was that half way through the morning, Rye trotted over to where Jason was getting up after holding the back half of a yearling down.

  The young horseman swung down. “Let’s trade,” he said, handing the reins to Jason.

  Jason smiled as he swung up on the horse and trotted over to hold herd for Irwin. The elder cowboy roped and dragged a kicking, bawling calf over to where Rye and Tyler waited on the ground. As soon as the two cowboys pulled his rope free, Irwin loped over and swapped places with Jason who then trotted his horse over to the branding fire, leapt off and grabbed the hot iron. He watched its dancing fiery color as he walked over to the restrained yearling.

  “You’re gonna wanna push that iron into his side firmly,” Rye explained from his position on the ground. “Let it slip and the brand’ll blur.”

  Jason pressed the branding iron into the calf’s side, just like he’d seen Rye do hundreds of times since yesterday morning. Gray smoke curled up into the air and the smell of burning hair filled his nostrils as the restrained yearling sounded out in a low bellowing protest.

  “That ought’a do it,” Tyler said with a satisfied nod when Jason raised the iron. “I don’t see any nubs so let’s vaccinate this critter and let ‘em up.”

  Jason quickly drew the correct amount of medicine into the syringes and handed them to Tyler who administered them into a section of the calf’s neck. Jason jogged over to the horse, leapt up into the saddle and loped over, just as Irwin was dragging another unwilling volunteer to be branded.

  It was sometime around noon when Irwin called out, “Last one,” as he came trotting from the herd, towing a yearling by its heels. It seemed that, much like yesterday, Irwin had saved the biggest for last. Jason waited until the eldest cowboy switched places with him before spurring his horse into action.

  A short time later, after lifting the branding iron from the critters side, as smoke drifted around his face, Jason smiled and said, “And there is the final stamp of approval,” copying Rye’s words for such an occasion from the previous day.

  Tyler administered the shots as Jason buried the branding iron in the sand to cool – and then it was time to set the last calf of the branding free… or so Jason thought. From their positions on the ground, Rye and Tyler looked up at him with sly smiles on their faces. Irwin rode over on his horse and looked down at Jason with an expression much like the other two.

  “What is it?” Jason asked, beginning to feel uneasy.

  “We have a tradition,” Tyler said, still smiling. “For a man to ever truly overcome his status as a greenhorn and put it behind him forever,” the big cowboy paused for dramatic effect, “he has to ride the last calf of the branding.”

  Jason looked up at Irwin whose sly grin had grown considerably. Somehow Jason got the feeling that the last calf of the branding also being the biggest calf of the branding was not by accident. It appeared that Irwin, knowing the tradition, had saved the biggest and the best for last.

  Jason took his hat off and scratched his head. “Well, I don’t wanna be a greenhorn forever,” he spoke thoughtfully. “Guess I don’t have a choice.”

  “Alright!” Tyler hollered loudly. “All you gotta do is stand over ‘em and when he comes up center yourself on top, dig your spurs in and hang on!” Jason stepped one leg across the downed calf and stood there nervously. “You got this?” Tyler demanded.

  “Um, I think so,” Jason replied but, truth be known, he had no idea.

  “Come on Jason!” the tall cowboy yelled. “Do this! Give it all you got! If you go down then go down swinging, and if you go out, go out with your boots on!” Jason began to feel himself let go, if only for a moment, of the thoughts that constantly weighted him down. He was starting to feel a little pumped.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Tyler boomed out in an announcer-like voice, “in chute number four we have Jason Hathaway coming all the way up here, to the middle of nowhere, from Pueblo Colorado to ride Last Calf. Give ‘em a hand folks.”

  Irwin clapped and hollered. Rye let lose a wild Indian yell and released the calf’s leg with one hand to slap his chaps in his best attempt at one handed clapping. Jason removed his hat and nodded around the empty arena as if he was being applauded by hundreds of adoring fans. And then a smile came across his lips.

  He put his hat back on, pulling it low. Glancing down at Tyler he nodded. The large animal was released, and it rose up beneath him, thrusting him up off the ground… And the fight was on. Jason hung on for dear life, flopping back and forth as the frightened, angry critter did it best to shake him loose.

  Tyler was yelling out the seconds. “Five… six… seven… time!” Jason let go and rolled off the back as the calf bucked high in the air sending its ex-rider flying in a backwards flip. Jason l
anded in a dusty heap as the terrified yearling raced back to the herd.

  Jason leapt to his feet, stuck both arms in the air and gave a victorious shout… and the crowd went wild. Tyler, Rye and Irwin all laughed and hollered at the excitement the show had offered. Tyler trotted over to Jason’s horse, gathered its reins and led it over to Jason.

  “Good ride, cowboy,” Tyler said with a smile. “Good ride.”

  Susan had supper ready when they got back to the ranch, and after the three cowboys put up the horses, they went in to eat. After the meal, the men retired to the living room as Susan washed dishes. When Jason returned to the kitchen and refilled his glass of sweet tea, she stopped him as he headed back.

  “When you introduced Tyler and me, you said something about having to do whatever he tells you to do – didn’t you?” she asked.

  “Yep,” Jason smiled. “It has been rather painful.”

  “That’s very interesting,” Susan said with a thoughtful look as though she’d just gained some valuable information before turning back to her task of washing dishes. Jason stood silent for a moment, wondering what that was all about, then gave a little shrug before returning to the living room.

  Tyler was in the process of telling a wide eyed Ken about the events that had transpired over the past two days when Jason walked in. He seated himself next to the boy and listened in. Sometime later, the tall cowboy got to the part about Jason ridding the wild calf. “And your uncle, he sure put on some kind of ride,” Tyler said with a smile before glancing up at the doorway leading into the kitchen where Susan had stuck her head in to listen. “Yep, rode ‘em every bit of eight seconds,” Tyler added, giving Ken a nod. “Look out P.B.R.; here Jason comes.”

  Susan laughed and the men turned and looked at her.

  “I didn’t mean to disturb your story,” she spoke kindly to Tyler, “but when you get a chance, could I speak with you in the kitchen?”

  “Sure,” Tyler said, rising from his seat.

  Moments after the two disappeared, Ken turned his attention to Rye. “So does that make Uncle Jason a real cowboy?” the boy asked excitedly.

  “I reckon it does,” Rye replied with a laugh.

  “My Uncle Jason’s a real cowboy,” Ken beamed. “Wait ‘til I tell Rebecca.”

  “Is that you little friend’s name?” Rye asked.

  “Yep,” the boy replied in a matter of fact way. Rye laughed and they all feel into comfortable conversation about horses and cows… and a certain little girl on Ken’s part.

  After a while, Tyler and Susan returned. Susan wore a happy smile, and the others went silent as the two sat down and looked at everybody.

  “I’ve got an announcement,” Tyler said, and the suspense caused Jason to hold his breath. “We’re going down to Pueblo for church on Sunday.”

  Jason exhaled sharply. He hadn’t known exactly what to expect, but that had not been it. He gave Susan a smug smile. She had gotten to the tall horseman. “Y’all have fun,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ll stay here and hold the fort down.”

  “The fort can hold itself down for a while,” Tyler stated. “When I said we’re going to church, I meant all of us.” Jason looked at Susan, who was now returning the smug smile he’d given her a moment before.

  “I’m not going,” he said bluntly, acting like an ornery old horse refusing to do what it had been bidden.

  “You ain’t quittin’ on me, are you?” Tyler asked in surprise.

  “No,” Jason responded, returning the surprised tone.

  “Then you are still to do as I say,” Tyler said with a smile. “And I say you’re going to church.”

  Jason looked at Susan, and the look on her face brought her whole evil scheme into the awareness of his mind. That little shyster! She put Tyler up to this! He gave a frustrated sigh and shook his head. “This is so wrong,” he said.

  Chapter Twenty

  A horseshoe sailed through the air and clinked against a metal post, rolled several feet then flopped over into the sand. “Awe, come on!” Tyler called out, laughing in frustration. “I had it, and it just rolled off!”

  “Whatever makes you feel better,” Susan taunted good-naturedly. Tyler shook his head, laughing as he set down by Rye in one of the two metal chairs on their end. Jason and Susan collected the horseshoes then she lined up and sent one sailing towards the far metal post. It clinked against it and only slid a few inches past. The second one landed just as close. “Um, Tyler,” she spoke sly, “is that two points?”

  He smiled and nodded his head. “Yes Susan, that’s two points.”

  “I thought so,” she said with a gleam in her eye. “I’ll let you know if you get any points.” Her good natured taunting drew a laugh from him. “You haven’t yet,” she spoke sweetly as she set down next to Jason, “just in case you weren’t sure.”

  “Wow,” Rye said as Jason stepped up to throw, “she bites.”

  “Sure does,” Tyler responded like he enjoyed a little sass, as he set down in one of the metal chairs, next to Rye. “But she’ll be eating those words when Jason gets a ringer, right Jason?”

  Jason just looked up and gave an attempted smile but didn’t answer as he took his position behind the pole. His heart was far from the game. Why play games? Why work? Why try? Why train? Why go on with life when there was nothing left to live for? He focused on the far pole and sent the horseshoe sailing. Tyler’s eyes grew wide, and he jumped from his seat a split-second before the horseshoe crashed into it, the impact of metal slamming against metal sounding loudly.

  Embarrassed, Jason muttered “sorry” and intentionally tossed the other horseshoe short, just to insure he didn’t hit anybody. Turning away, he was headed back to his seat when the sound of gravel crunching under tires drew his attention, causing him to turn around. A familiar black Cadillac crept down the driveway towards them.

  Jason’s heart began to pound. The car came to a stop nearby and the FBI agent, who’d come by and delivered the devastating news to Jason several days prior, stepped out. Her attire was basically the same except she didn’t wear any shades, allowing her intelligent brown eyes to size things up freely.

  “Agent Bethany Weathers,” Jason spoke, apprehensive as to what news she had. “What brings you out?”

  “A word in private, if you don’t mind,” she replied.

  Jason walked over to her and followed her around behind her car. He could hardly breathe. He could literally hear the sound of his own heart. Uneasiness swam in his chest. As soon as she turned around to face him, he began. “What is it?” he demanded. “Did you find out who the other passport is for?” The look in her eye said he had hit the nail on the head. He almost didn’t want to know who it was for. Didn’t matter. She wasn’t going. He was going to prove… Was she smiling? How cruel. He felt his blood pressure began to rise.

  “It’s you,” the agent laughed. “The other passport, the other plane ticket… they’re both yours.”

  Jason just stood in stumped silence. Dare he believe? “But how, um, why the…” He stopped, unable to form a question.

  “She must have purchased them for you, and it was going to be a surprise,” the agent explained. “We also took a look at her phone. She had a lot of things saved about Mexico. Best we can figure, those two one-way tickets were just the beginning of her purchases. It looked like she was planning on you guys taking a plane to Cancun, spend a while down there then, I think, she was looking for a cruise that went up the Mexican Gulf Coast back to the states; we assume that, from there, once she had a cruise ship booked, she would have booked the return flight home.”

  Jason wanted to hug the FBI agent, but part of him was afraid to get too excited about the news. “So the fact that the trip is planned for one day after my climb is just a coincidence?”

  “Yes and no,” the agent replied. “Yes, it is a coincidence but not completely random. Can you think of anything worth celebrating that happens around that time?”

  Jason stood in si
lence for a moment… then it dawned on him. “My birthday!” he exclaimed.

  “That’s right,” Agent Weathers beamed. “I think it was going to be a birthday surprise.” She then paused and grew somber. “I’m sorry we added more to your already troubled life but, well, all the arrows pointed that way.”

  “It’s okay,” Jason sighed and shook his head. “You don’t know her. I do. I can’t believe I doubted her.”

  Agent Weathers gave him a keen study. “But what about the money in her account?” she asked. “You don’t still doubt her for that?”

  Jason glanced over at Susan, who, along with the others, was looking their way. He turned back to the agent. “I’m a spender,” he confessed. “It doesn’t make it right, but she probably knew it wouldn’t have lasted long in our joint account.”

  “And you’re just going to let it go at that?” she asked, disbelieving but seeming to hope it was true.

  “I’ve done worse,” Jason replied.

  With their goodbyes said, Agent Weathers drove away and Jason returned to the game. It was his turn when he got back. He threw a ringer and a leaner; that combined with the two points Tyler had scored while he was gone put them in the lead. Jason was smiling.

  “Okay, it’s killing me,” Susan spoke, “what’d the FBI lady say?”

  “The other ticket and the other passport,” Jason spoke, “they were for me. Looks like she was planning me a birthday surprise.”

  “See,” Susan said, her tone a jesting sort of relieved, “I told you she wasn’t capable of that.”

  “And,” Tyler spoke, looking happy for Jason, “since she bought the surprise with her private checking, I doubt she was planning on keeping that secret much longer. She was probably planning on telling you soon.” That was a good point; one Jason hadn’t yet thought of.