by Jake Daniel
Bonded Spirits
Book One
Jake Daniel
Copyright © 2021 by Jake Daniel
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This work is intended for adults only. It contains several sexually explicit scenes, as well as, adult language, which could be offensive to some readers.
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To my dad, who taught me how to hunt, fish, and get shit done.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Dahlia Artwork
Before You Go
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Author’s Note
Awesome Links!
Chapter One
Nothing beats the smell of crisp fall mountain air paired with fresh black coffee in the morning. I’m talking about the kind of coffee that stains your mug and probably your stomach; the blacker the better.
I drew in a deep breath, savored the thin air, and exhaled slowly. Welcome to my morning routine, at least for each day in September leading up to hunting season.
I took another sip and called out to my lazy-ass English Bulldog. “Come on, DeVito.” The amount of effort it would take to raise his roll-covered head seemed too much this morning.
I walked over and gave the lazy dog a pat on his head. “It’s the calm before the storm, buddy.”
I adjusted my thick flannel shirt and took up a seat next to DeVito. “What do you think, should I practice my welcome?” I paused and waited for DeVito to give me any sort of sign. It never came. “Well, I guess you don’t get a choice.” I gave him another pat on his fat head and recited my typical greeting, which I’d loathed over the past couple of years. “Welcome to Wild West’s Outfitters, your adventure awaits. I’m your guide, Logan West.” What a crock of shit.
I ran one of the most successful outfitters this side of Vail pass. Hunting was once my passion, my lifeblood. After fifteen years of dealing with the same entitled rich douchebags, looking for a quick and easy kill to toss up on their wall so they could brag to their rich douchebag friends, it lost its allure in a hurry.
I walked down to my gravel driveway and stopped after a few steps to look back at the lump of dog who gave me a side-eye glance. “You coming?” A low grunt followed by him flopping onto his side told me everything I needed to know. “You lazy bastard. Keep it up and I’m going to tie a cart to your ass so you can haul this firewood instead of me.”
The iron sign which marked the entrance to my outfitters creaked back and forth under the slight cool breeze. My grandfather had it made for me before his mind went. The heavy sign had a large silhouette of a bugling bull elk and the word, WEST, in all capital letters underneath it.
I loaded up as much firewood as I could carry and turned back to my lodge. The small cabin wasn’t much, but I’d built it with my grandfather, and that was all that mattered. It only had two small rooms but was large enough to accommodate parties of about six, fully-geared hunters.
I kept the lodge full from the end of September, when hunting season started, all the way through the beginning of January. Most hunters came for either mulies or the elk, hoping to bag a trophy.
I think a small part of me died each time one of those rich assholes took down a bull elk at fifty yards and acted like they were Davy-Fucking-Crockett.
I approached DeVito and a piece of wood fell out of my arms. “Thanks a lot, buddy. What a pal.” I bent to pick up the piece I dropped and ended up dropping a couple more. I glanced over at DeVito and shook my head. “I don’t want to hear it.”
I looked up at the surrounding forest. The bark beetles had ravaged most of the area surrounding my lodge and had turned what was once a lush green, outdoorsman's paradise, to thinned out swaths of beetle-kill trees that stretched for miles. It was a shame to see the devastation, but it made scouting easier.
I left my lodge sparingly during hunting season, so the trip I was making into Leadville today would be my last for a while. I stacked the wood and walked over to DeVito. “Alright, time to go for a ride.”
I hoisted my abnormally hefty bulldog and plopped him into the passenger side of my old F-150. He curled up and went back to sleep without missing a beat.
I’d worked out a deal with a local to watch DeVito, as I had for the past couple of years during my busy season. DeVito was not exactly a hunting dog, and to protect him from the inevitable drunken visitor, it was for his own good.
Several people offered to watch him, so it made it relatively easy. It’s amazing what people will do for fresh elk steaks.
“Hey Logan.” A vaguely familiar man called out as I got out of my truck. People usually recognized me in town and typically greeted me well before I’d recognize them. I helped DeVito onto the ground and he snorted excitedly as the man approached.
I gave the man a small nod. “Uh, hey.” I searched my memory for anything I could to remember him, but I came up empty-handed.
“Season starts in a couple of weeks, eh?” The man asked, clearly just trying to make small talk.
“Yes, sir. Just getting a few last things lined up before things kick off,” I still wasn’t sure who he was, but he knew me somehow. Although, I suppose there’s not too many six-foot-four, two-hundred and twenty pound, broad-shouldered, blue-eyed and brown-haired world renown hunters walking around Leadville, Colorado. Not from what I’ve seen, that is. At least I could tell this man was a local.
“Should be a good season. We’re already seeing some of our special visitors early this year.” He walked alongside me and I finally recognized him. He was one of the new bartenders at the Silver Dollar Saloon, a place I’d frequented regularly during the off-season.
“Snow bunnies? Already? They’re early this year,” I shrugged and gave DeVito’s leash a small tug as I continued walking.
“Yeah, stop in and scope it out if you have some time,” he replied with a smile.
“Hmm, I’ll be there in a few, just need to drop this big guy off first.”
The man laughed and gave DeVito a quick pat. “Hell, bring him in with you. I’m sure the girls would eat him up.”
I looked down to DeVito, who was already out of breath after a few steps. “I’m sure they would, but he’s already spoiled enough.” I gave him a quick scratch behind the ears and shook my head. “I’m dropping him just across the street here. I’ll be sure to stop in before I leave.”
The man gave me a small wave as he opened the door to the Silver Dollar Saloon. “Sounds good.”
&
nbsp; Hunting season typically signaled the start of ski season, which brought several perks, especially as far as the women went.
I could usually find one willing to come back to the lodge with me if I stuck around long enough. Best thing was that they always left the next day with no fuss, most of the time to meet up with their friends for a weekend of skiing. Unfortunately, with hunting season, it was rare that I’d get the time to indulge.
I wouldn’t need to be heading back into town soon after today. I liked to make sure I had enough supplies to get me past Thanksgiving, and with DeVito taken care of until after Christmas; I was all set.
I offloaded DeVito with an old weathered man wearing a baggy pair of Carhart overalls and one of those fur-lined hats, which gave him a sort of Russian look. As rugged as the man appeared, as soon as he spotted DeVito, the man turned into one of the friendliest people I’d ever met.
I wasn’t big on judging people by their looks. It only took one time of being burned by that to ensure I’d not do it again.
“Hey Mr. Jackson, thanks again for watching DeVito for me. He shouldn’t give you too much trouble. Be sure to let me know if he does.”
Mr. Jackson looked up at me from his spot on the ground, not taking his hands off my dog’s head, and continued to scratch behind DeVito’s ears. DeVito rolled over on his back as he did when he was completely content.
“Traitor.” I smiled and handed the man the dog’s leash and bag of food I’d loaded up and thanked him again.
I stopped into the Silver Dollar before returning to my truck and planned to have a quick one, but I knew I had to get out and do a little scouting before it got too late.
I’d been tracking where the herds were running, but I needed to update their current location. With all the bugling and echoes of antlers crashing at night, I had a pretty good idea of exactly where to find them.
I was the only one inside, and I was starting to question the arrival of these “Snow Bunnies” that I’d been promised earlier.
The man I spoke to earlier walked behind the bar and slapped the bar top. “Well, they made a liar out of me. Stick around for a while though and I’m sure a couple will show up.”
I laughed. “I guess I’ve built myself a bit of a reputation around here.”
The bartender stammered slightly and held out his hands. “Oh no, I definitely didn’t mean to insinuate, I mean…” The man’s face flushed and he averted his eyes.
“It’s okay. Trust me, I’m good with it. I appreciate the heads-up. I tend to be a little independent, but I do like the occasional visitor, if you know what I mean.”
“I have to admit, I’m jealous of the life you lead.” He paused. “Doesn’t it get a little lonely?” The man leaned forward as if I were some sort of celebrity and he was trying to get the inside scoop.
I shrugged and shook my head. “No, not really. I’ve got my hands full with DeVito. Besides, with as many people that’ll be staying at my lodge over the next few months, I’ve come to really appreciate the quiet times.
“You sure about that?” A woman’s voice said from behind me. “Don’t you have a hunt to prep for?”
“Hey Kalie. Didn’t know you were working today, I would’ve shaved or taken a shower or something,” I said with a small smirk.
“Or somethin’ is right,'' She said and ran her arm across my back. “I see you’ve started your annual hunting beard.” She smiled and ran the back of her hand down along the stubble covering the side of my face.
Kalie was by far my favorite bartender. Long blonde hair, blue eyes, great tits, even better ass, and legs that could snap a man’s neck if he wasn’t careful. There weren’t too many women like her around these parts.
She moved behind the bar and cleaned a few pint glasses that had been sitting in the sink. “Haven’t seen you in a while. If you want to hang out tonight, I may be open to a little company.”
“I’ve been coming here for how many years, and you invite me over now? Knowing damn well I’m not able to come?” I shook my head. Of course she had to bring this up now. Kalie was one of the few people who knew just how seriously I took my business. Everything inside of me wanted so badly to prove her wrong. “I’d love to, but the season is only so long. The herds are moving and I have to finish up my scouting before the first group arrives.”
She gave me a knowing smile and turned her eyes back to the sink. “Hmmpf, alright then, don’t say I didn’t offer.” She adjusted her tight buttoned-up server’s shirt, skillfully undoing the top button with a flick of her well-manicured hand. She leaned forward and gave me an unobstructed view of her perfect breasts, the top of her pink bra making an appearance, driving home just what I was missing out on. “What can I get ya, Hon?”
Chapter Two
Shit like this always happens. I let my eyes linger for a second before I tapped the counter and cleared my throat. “I may have to take you up on that when the season ends, for now, I’ll just take a bottle of Coors.”
Kalie gave me a small smirk and turned to the beer cooler behind her. She spent an abnormal amount of time bent over, searching and rearranging several bottles inside, giving me a little extra time to question my decision.
She finally grabbed a bottle and popped the cap off in one swift motion. She set it down in front of me and before I could even take a drink, an enormous man burst through the door, his breathing erratic and left eye twitching.
The man took several steps forward, eyeing me curiously before stepping up to the bar. “Have you seen a… strange woman come through here?”
I took a long drink of my beer and watched as two other men joined the first. All three wore shabby leather clothes and had long knives hanging at their sides. While it wasn’t unusual to see hunters in the saloon this time of year, these men seemed a little… off.
The bartender shrugged and shook his head. “I’m not sure who you boys are looking for, but nobody stranger than usual.”
The largest of the men stared the bartender down, and then shifted his gaze to me. “How about you, cupcake?”
I took another swig of my beer. I wasn’t about to go all Marty McFly on the guy, but he obviously didn’t know who he was talking to. Last guy that talked to me like that ended up flat on his back. I didn’t look for fights, but I sure as hell wouldn’t back down from one. I set my bottle of Coors back down on the bar and turned toward the man.
His stare wavered slightly and he let out a grunt. “Never mind.” He turned to his buddies and motioned for them to follow. “Be careful if you head out there to the forest.” The three left as quickly as they had arrived, mumbling amongst themselves as they set off down the street.
I turned back to my beer and took another swig. Wasn’t the first time hunters stumbled in here all liquored up talking nonsense. I nodded toward Kalie. “I think that’s my cue, I’ll settle up.”
She nodded and handed me my tab with a frown. “Who do you think those guys were looking for?”
I chuckled. “Honestly, from the looks of them, they probably didn’t even know who the hell they were looking for.” I slapped a twenty down on the bar and finished my beer. “Have a good season, I’ll catch you again after Christmas. I hope your offer will still be valid.”
Kalie smiled and cleared away my empty bottle. She leaned over and rested her arms on the bar, giving me one last glance at her perfect rack. “We’ll see. Good luck out there and stay safe.” She returned to the sink and continued working on the glasses.
I exited the Silver Dollar Saloon and climbed into my truck. I already missed DeVito. As stubborn as that dog was, he was the closest thing to a friend I had these days.
Within half an hour, I was back at my lodge. I packed the remaining gear for my scouting trip and set it on the back of one of my ATVs. I had the essentials; tent, sleeping bag, gear sack, small cooler with a six-pack of beer, food, fishing pole, and my Marlin 30-30. I’d contemplated bringing my 30-06 but seeing as the hunting unit I drew out for was notorious for
thick patches of brush, I went with the old reliable.
I checked the fuel on my ATV and pulled on the gear rack I’d recently installed. There was only one area that I needed to scout before the season started, couldn’t make it too hard on the customers after all. I’d been following a herd of elk and mule deer in the next canyon over.
I checked my notes and rubbed my forehead. Both herds were doing well and from what I could see there were a record number of calves and faun born this year. Above all, there were a couple of trophy bulls I’d kept my eye on. Big, majestic bastards. I really hated to see them go this way, but I had to make a living.
I followed the old lumber trail up into the forest and parked my ATV once I’d reached the area I’d taped off.
I checked my topographic map and found an intriguing spot that I was almost certain would be a natural feeding path for mule deer and continued forward.
It was the end of September, and the initial rifle hunt went through the first week of October. The leaves of the aspens had turned, with brilliant patches of yellow leaves popping up every so often. I should have plenty of time before the first snow, although at 9,000 feet, pretty much any type of weather was possible.
From what the bartender mentioned about the snow bunnies already showing up, I imagined it was probably going to be an early snow season.
After about an hour, I arrived at my campsite deep within the Roosevelt National Forest. I wish I’d spent a little more time scouting the area, but fortunately, the closest camp to mine, at least that I knew of, was at least four or five miles away. The road that led to my campsite was an old logging road. Most of the weeds had grown tall enough to disguise the path altogether. Just how I liked it. There’s nothing worse than having neighbors when all you want is a little solitude.
