| Subject: Big Blue Sky Part Thirteen |
Author:
Karen
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Date Posted: 11:53:22 04/14/07 Sat
In reply to:
Karen
's message, "Big Blue Sky" on 20:35:06 04/21/06 Fri
Authors note: Finally, I have my house. Still a few minor tweaks but were moving in today. Thought I’d celebrate with all of you by sending this over.
Hope you enjoy. The next chapter should be ready in a week or so I hope (fingers crossed).
Big Blue Sky
Chapter Thirteen
“Mount up, Annie Oakley,” Harm smiled at Mac, motioning her into the plane when Shaun finished his explanation. She had already brought the rifles from the car, stowing them behind the seats, while they’d gone through the piloting technicalities.
“Right there with you, Wild Bill,” she replied with a grin, climbing into her side of the cockpit.
Shaun’s face registered his uncertainty with their gallows humor.
“We’ll be okay,” Harm reassured the young man with a solid hand on his shoulder. “Get back to your grandmother and sister. The sheriff will be there shortly and we’ll all be home soon.” Harm smiled as if he actually believed this, and as a result, Shaun almost believed it too.
Harm fired the engine on the plane then watched as Shaun turned the car and pulled it away from the hangar entrance. Taxiing to the runway, he checked the windsock. Good, the wind was from the west. He could take off, make his loop, fly over the herd, and turn back to land from the east just as they’d planned. It should work perfectly.
Once he was airborne, he headed west for several miles before making a wide turn. He set his course to look as though he were heading for the small local airport southeast of the ranch, then flew high over the valley, gently losing altitude as though in a landing pattern.
Everything was nearly exactly as Shaun had suggested. The large truck was nosed into the lower part of the valley. A dual cab pickup with a four-horse trailer and a standard pickup with another two-horse trailer were parked nearby. Harm could just see the top of the ranch truck with its attached trailer pulled into a steep tree-lined draw northwest of the meadow.
“If those trucks were full when they arrived, they could have a dozen men and six horses down there,” Harm observed. He concentrated on keeping the plane on its disinterested course. It was imperative the men didn’t suspect the reason for their presence.
“I only see seven men and four horses but the others might be in the trees looking for strays,” she suggested, staring intently out the window.
“Maybe,” Harm agreed. “But Shaun didn’t really think they’d go that far,” he reminded her. “He was pretty sure they would just take what was easy to catch. It sounds reasonable.”
“Perhaps,” she mused. “But if they can’t take them all, then I think they’d want to take the best they could find. It may be taking a bit of work to cut the best from the herd.”
“Mmmm,” was his noncommittal reply. He doubted she was any more convinced of that than he was. It was unlikely those men had brought only four horses, it was very likely there were sentries posted somewhere. They would have to be alert for an ambush.
He flew out several more miles over the eastern hills before circling back and setting the plane down in the pre-designated field. They climbed from the plane cautiously, listening closely to their surroundings. After a moment or two of stillness, the few remaining birds in the forest resumed their calls. Nothing was moving. It was mid-afternoon and the shadows were deepening. In another hour it would be dusk, darkness would fall soon after. They didn’t have much time to get into position.
Mac pulled the small notepad from her pack and consulted her drawing and its indecipherable symbols. It apparently meant something, but only to her. She wanted to get her bearings before they started. There was something she had noticed on the map in the hangar. Pointing ahead and slightly to their right she indicated the place where she thought they should enter the forest.
Moving warily, they quickly headed for the tree line and the ridge that would place them above the rustlers. It wasn’t easy to move silently through the forest. There were a lot of downed branches, but they picked their way as carefully as possible stepping from one large rock to another wherever they could.
Reaching the edge of the upper tree line, they could see the high pasture as it gently climbed the slope and wandered away among smaller hills. Below and to the left was a corner of the truck just visible over the ledge. Dropping to their bellies, they crawled crab-like on knees and elbows to the edge of the escarpment.
She had chosen this spot because the huge piece of rock offered more protection than the open forest. Looking over the edge they could see the land slant away sharply below them. It looked as though at some point in the recent past erosion had caused a catastrophic slide of dirt and trees resulting in the exposure of the massive granite shelf.
It wasn’t a straight drop to the valley floor but it was steep. A man could pick his way down carefully but a slip would send him tumbling dangerously into the pile of rocks and rotted tree trunks below. For a horse and rider, the route would be suicide. Half a mile away the truck sat silently accepting its load of bawling steers. Two men on horseback were cutting their choice from the nearby herd. Another on horseback stood by to control runaways, as two men on foot used cattle prods to load the animals into the truck. A mounted rider waited beside one of the pickups undoubtedly supervising, and the last man sat on the hood of the same truck.
“I don’t see anyone else,” she offered in the barest whisper.
“Doesn’t mean they aren’t there somewhere,” Harm returned.
“Hmmm,” she agreed. “What now?”
“Too many for us to take.”
“We could shoot them,” she suggested, only half-serious.
“Can’t.”
“They’re rustlers, you can shoot rustlers,” she protested. Her shrug played the word game, withholding the smile that teased her lips. After all this was serious.
“Nope, you can hang rustlers, but you can’t shoot ‘em, and that’s only in Texas, this is Montana.” His reply was given as though reciting from the cowboy manual.
“What’s the difference?” she insisted looking at him oddly.
“Texas was a country before it joined the union. They do things different in Texas.” He allowed the barest smile to tickle his right dimple.
“How do you know that?” she challenged.
“XO on the carrier. Never failed to have a ‘Texas’ story whenever he had an audience,” he flashed a quick grin.
She smiled back. The interchange had released a little bit of their tension.
“I guess we just watch them?”
“Yeah, for now. The sheriff should be here soon.”
He would have been happier taking action but they were sorely outnumbered and they didn’t know where everyone was. He still had a feeling at least two of them were out there somewhere in the trees. He was equally certain Mac felt the same way. He could sense it in her tension.
“What if they try to leave?”
“Then, my dear, we shoot out their tires,” Harm smiled and turned towards her. “What do you say we take cover and watch each others backs? I’m not convinced there aren’t a few more of them.”
“Good idea, I think you’re right. Too bad though, it would have been fun taking them down.”
Harm knew the harsh comment was meant as more tension release. Like him, Mac would take necessary action when needed, but she’d never shoot first.
She looked around assessing their location. It was just as she’d imagined from the topo map. The rock ledge where they lay formed a shelf on the south-southeast rim of the bowl. Farther up on the east and northeast side the wall fading softly into the hills was covered by trees. To their left the ledge came to an abrupt halt where a huge slab of granite held back the remainder of the tree-covered hillside. The ridge continued south of the cattle truck where it ended abruptly spilling through what was currently a dry wash. The rocky streambed and narrow path eventually came out in the valley below, near their plane.
In the spring, each meadow would turn first into a shallow lake then to rich grassland. As the snow receded over the spring and summer, it would bring plenty of new grazing land for the cattle until the cycle completed itself with the snowfall next winter.
A gate across the opening to the valley kept the cattle up here until they were ready to be moved down to the ranch. On Monday morning, they would travel through three descending valleys until they came out onto the wide flat plain occupied by the main ranch.
The path had taken Aron about two hours to negotiate, but it would take the cattle two days. It was dangerously narrow and they had to keep the progress slow. If anything caused the herd to run, they’d lose them in the dry streambed.
“There,” she pointed to her right about ten feet away, and then turned to her left pointing about twenty feet. To the north side was a rock nearly the size of a pickup surrounded by several smaller ones. To the south stood slabs of granite of various sizes, broken from the larger cliff face. The tumbled stone had been washed clean and smooth over time by rain and melting snow. “Tuck your back against that granite cliff and scoot down between those pylons,” she gestured to the left. “I’ll go over here and find myself a hole beside that boulder. That way we can see each other’s position… oh…and watch out for snakes,” she tossed out casually.
“Snakes!” His eyes became saucers, “Maaac!” His hiss was no more than a whisper.
“Yeah,” her voice deadpan, she shrugged. “Mostly rattlers.”
“Rattlers?” This time he came as close to squeaking as possible for a man with his level of testosterone.
“Relax, Harm, I’m just kidding, they’re all hibernating now anyway.”
“Hibernating? You’re sure?”
“Yeah. Pretty sure,” again her shrug spoke volumes.
“Maaac!”
“Okay, I’m sure, I’m sure. Shaun and I talked about them last week when we were discussing the bull’s progress. Honest, Harm, I was just kidding.”
He looked at her and ‘humphed’ before slowly moving to his cover. However, he did look around carefully before settling himself. As he shifted his gaze to check her position, he saw a small, satisfied smile curve her lips. She’d gotten him back for giving up her decorations to the family. He wasn’t sure why she’d not wanted it known, but it was her business. However, the fact that she’d evened the score by tormenting him instead of becoming angry showed him she understood his reasons for letting the information slip. They would be okay.
They lay in hiding for more than fifteen minutes. Nothing moved but their eyes as they constantly reassessed their surroundings. In a quick flash, it happened.
“Harm!” she cried as a tall brown tanned man with curly red hair mounted the rock over Harm’s prone form. She rolled and swung her rifle around.
“Mac!” Harm’s warning came at the same instant, as he leveled his firearm at a place above her head.
Five shots rang out in quick succession almost too close to count. As the echoes repeated off the hills, Mac heard a sickening thud then another. Craning her neck, she looked over the edge and caught sight of a body tumbling down the rocky face of the hill. The man above Harm had disappeared almost as quickly as he had appeared.
“Mac, look,” Harm warned gesturing towards the valley. His voice sounded strained, but the men below were headed in their direction. She had no time to analyze it.
Quickly she adjusted her rifle to defend their position, but almost instantly, the men turned once again and fled towards the two pickup trucks. In another half minute, Mac realized why. The man who had supervised the loading and the other who had watched for runaways were high tailing it for the dry wash. Climbing the hillside to circumvent the gate they disappeared through the opening. Above them, inside the line of trees, the red haired man mounted his horse and followed.
There was little chance they could overlook the plane parked in the valley below. Very likely, the thieves would realize there were only two of them and return.
“Don’t let them get away, Mac,” Harm ordered. “Shoot the tires.” The two men below them had rushed their horses into the trailer, and the truck was being backed around for an escape.
Once again, Mac drew careful aim, then pulled back as she saw the flashing red and blue lights reflected off the hills to the west where the ranch road came into the valley. The cavalry had arrived and not a moment too soon.
“C’mon, Harm, let’s get down there.” She turned to him just in time to see him wipe his hand over his face and head. The hand came away covered in blood. Another spot of red soaked the arm of his shirt.
“Harm!” she cried. Scrambling to her feet, she hurried to his side.
“I’m okay, Mac. It’s nothing,” he protested, but his voice didn’t sound very convincing.
“Oh, god, Harm! You’re hurt, your head, your arm.” She leaned against him and he winced, “Oh no, your leg too.”
Quickly she peeled off her shirt and stripped off her t-shirt. She reached for the knife sheathed on Harm’s hip, and sliced the garment into strips. First, she bound the wound on his head, as it was bleeding the most, then his upper arm. Finally, she wrapped a piece around his thigh. He would have a scar that would match her own was the stray thought that entered her mind.
As she worked to staunch the flow of blood, a depressive sense of déjà vu overcame her. This is what it had felt like in Iraq, only much worse. A comrade in arms shot down while fighting at her side. Only this time, it was the man she loved, and she could find no way around the fact that she was at least partly responsible for Harm’s injuries.
‘How?’ she tormented herself with the question. She couldn’t find and answer for it. She knew exactly where she’d aimed, but there’d only been five shots. The man above Harm had fired at her. Harm had fired at the man above her. That only left three shots, hers, and two others obviously fired by the man who had stood over her. How had she missed so badly? How could she have fired so wildly that she hit Harm instead of the man she’d aimed at?
Unlike Iraq, there were no Navy fighters to take out hidden attackers, no med-evac choppers to airlift them out of here. Somehow, she had to get help for Harm, but if she left him, the men might return and he would be helpless. If she didn’t leave him, he might die in her arms. There was absolutely no way she could carry him.
‘Think,’ Mackenzie, she cautioned herself. ‘Take deep breaths,’ she forced calm, using a technique taught her by her therapist. The ability to assess the situation and find a solution was returning when a movement brought her from her self-recriminations. She raised her rifle at the sound.
“Whoa there, Colonel. It’s me, Billy.”
“Billy. How…where…Harm’s hurt, help me.” She pleaded as the older man walked up through the trees.
“Hand me that last piece of your t-shirt there,” he instructed. “Then you better get dressed. We’re about to have company.”
As she struggled to pull her forgotten shirt back on, Billy stepped to the edge of the rock ledge and tied the piece of cloth to his rifle. Then he fired one shot in the air.
Instantly he was caught in the harsh glare of high-powered lights from the police vehicles below.
“Who’s there?” Sheriff Borden called over the loudspeaker on his patrol car. “That you, Billy?”
“It’s me sheriff, got a wounded man up here. We need some help.” Billy continued to wave his arms in surrender, but apparently, through some trick of acoustics his voice traveled to the men below.
The sheriff didn’t have to give orders. Two men detached themselves from their large vehicle and started up the side of the hill. One carried a medic bag and the other a lightweight stretcher.
In minutes, they were gently moving Mac aside so they could tend to Harm.
“He’ll be okay, ma’am,” the medic reassured Mac a few minutes later after he and his partner had place Harm on the stretcher under protest. “But we need to take him to the hospital in town.”
Mac nodded numbly. She wanted to object, wanted to insist Harm be flown to a state of the art facility, wanted to go with him. Mostly, she wanted to know how she could have shot the man she loved, but she gathered herself, stood up, and passed her rifle and Harm’s to Billy. He holstered his weapon and secured the others to his saddle with rawhide ties. The med bag was positioned between Harms legs and an IV bag secured to the top of it. They each took one corner of the stretcher and carefully picked their way down a game trail to the emergency vehicle. Billy’s horse followed several yards back.
End of thirteen
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