Two Spirit Ranch

by Jaime Stryker

  “Please, lower your voice, Terri. People are staring,” Tom hushed her, his eyes scanning the crowded restaurant. “Listen, I had a great time. The sex was great. Awesome, actually.”

  His words reducing their whole relationship to sex felt like a knife in her heart. She sucked in her breath for a moment and tried to steady herself. She met a lot of men who wanted to treat her like an object, but not a person. To satisfy some fetish. This couldn't be happening. How could she have possibly read the entire situation so wrong?

  “You are a beautiful person, inside and out, but I have to think about my future…,” Tom said, his voice trailing off.

  “Stop!” she said, interrupting him in midsentence. “I can't believe you're doing this to me. I thought we were serious and maybe, just maybe, I thought we were headed towards marriage. You told me over and over that the fact I was born in the wrong body made no difference to you!”

  Tom stared down at his lap avoiding her eyes, but she began to notice that others in the restaurant were now paying attention to the scene. She hadn't realized how loud her voice had become in anger.

  “I'm sorry, Terri. Sometimes things change. Life is unpredictable sometimes,” Tom said meekly and still staring down into his lap.

  “Things change,” Terri muttered. “That's all you can say? I feel like I never even knew you. Now I know what kind of man you really are, Tom. Thank you. ”

  “So, are we ready to order?” the waiter asked, appearing out of nowhere and seemingly oblivious to the unfolding drama.

  “I think we're through here,” Terri said, standing up and tossing her cloth napkin on the table. “The gentleman will get the bill.”

  She marched out of the restaurant not looking back but unable now to hold back the torrent of tears as they streamed down her face. The two people she thought she could count on in this world, her uncle and her boyfriend, had been snapped away from her in one quick day. Two people she loved.

  Terri vainly tried to hail a cab as a sudden summer rain started permeating the air. Unable to get a taxi, Terri just ran down the street not sure where she was going, just wanting to go--go anywhere--to vainly escape the feelings inside of her. She just ran, focusing on her breath and the pain in her feet. She didn’t notice people on the sidewalk stopping to stare at this obviously upset woman racing down the street. She was so unaware; she didn’t notice the rain mixed with the tears streaming down her face.

  Terri kept running. For two weeks, she dove into her work at the law firm and the community center just keeping busy, trying to forget.

  Finally, when Martin caught her in her office one afternoon, her back to the door, and crying he placed a hand on her shoulder and said, “Terri, maybe you really should take that leave of absence. It would do you good. You've been through a lot.”

  She nodded in agreement. How could she expect to take care of clients, both the paying ones and her work at the community center, if she didn't take care of herself?

  “Maybe I should take a little time. Maybe go to my uncle's ranch in Montana and decide what to do with the property.”

  “I think that sounds like a perfect idea. I'll smooth over the request with the other partners. Don't worry about it. Maybe you need a change of scenery to give you a new perspective on things.”

  “Thank you, Martin,” Terri said, already feeling a little better at the thought of putting some space between herself and Manhattan.

  Three days later, Terri flew to Billings, Montana. She rented a car and headed to the small town where Uncle Bud had moved to. It was such a blur; she didn’t notice she was speeding down the highway past the sign that read “Clearview, Montana, population 797.”

  She tried vainly to hold back the continuing thoughts of Tom and her heartbreak while driving. She cranked up the stereo and played her favorite Bon Jovi CDs from the 80s and drove her Mini Cooper rental down the seemingly endless Montana road. But it was to no avail. This particular stretch of road out of Billings was long and flat, so her mind wandered back to the reason for her escape. Escape. An escape from her memories. An escape from New York. And especially an escape from herself. But then she remembered that she knew better than anyone there was no way anyone could out run their own self. Sooner or later, you had to face that reflection in the mirror and its truth.

  Sheriff Jake Collins was enjoying another peaceful day in Clearview, Montana, a small town outside of Billings. Though he lived in Montana all his life, the area’s beauty never ceased to amaze him. The land was timeless and yet alive with history. He didn’t understand why his cousin Carl wanted to erase all this natural beauty with his huge condo and planned community development proposal. When Jake went to the big city, all he could remember were the generic box stores and main streets lined with chain restaurants and antsy teenagers having parking lot parties. He didn’t want Clearview turned into that. Here people still all knew each other, and there was a real community. It was a simpler life and slower pace but there are some things of value you can’t put a price tag on.

  Suddenly, he clocked a little Mini Cooper whizzing by erratically and going fifteen miles over the speed limit.

  “What the…? Uh, oh. Time to earn your paycheck today, Jake,” he muttered to himself turning on the siren and following the car into town. “Not on my watch, you don’t, buddy.”

  The siren’s wail pierced the dry air and dissipated into the vast Yellowstone Valley.

  Terri awoke from her reverie. She looked at her rearview mirror and wiped away the tears from her reddened eyes.

  Oh, no, she thought. Just what I needed. Bad things always happen in threes. First Uncle Bud. Then Tom. And now being pursued by a sheriff’s patrol car. She pulled over, trying to regain her composure. All she could see were the flashing lights in the rear view mirror, obscuring her view of the officer wearing intimidating mirrored sunglasses steadily approaching her rental.

  Nice body she thought to herself. For a country guy. He certainly filled out his officer's uniform quite well.

  He had dark hair and a handsomeness like the silver screen stars of the past. He looked comfortable in his skin which, to Terri, was quite intriguing.

  “License and registration, please,” said the officer. Terri eyed his name tag, “COLLINS.” His voice was pure country--deep, slow and deliberate.

  “I’m sorry, Officer…er, Collins. I’m sorry, is my taillight out?” she asked, smiling coyly while opening her Coach wallet to hand over the license.

  “No ma’am. Just speeding down the road like a bat out of hell, and it’s sheriff. Sheriff Collins.” He looked at her driver’s license photo and then at her. It wasn’t a bad photo. She worked the Department of Motor Vehicles employee to take a few extra shots during a slow shift to increase her chance of a cute photo.

  “Well, Miss Lawson, you sure are long ways from New York but ‘round these parts there is a thing called the speed limit,” the sheriff said while handing back the license.

  “Sorry, Sheriff. It won’t happen again. I don’t want to bore you, but it’s been a really rough few weeks for me,” she said, sighing audibly.

  “Well, I’m sorry things aren’t going your way, ma’am, but the speed limit is the same on good days and bad ones.” Jake said. He'd heard every sob story in the book during his years of pulling people over. “We have a saying ‘round these parts. ‘If you get thrown from a horse, you have to get up and get back on, unless you landed on a cactus…”

  “And then what happens?” Terri asked, bemused at the imagery despite herself.

  “Well, then you have to roll around and scream in pain,” the sheriff smiled while Terri rolled her eyes. “But all kidding aside, please obey the speed limits.”

  “Okay, sir. I’m sorry.”

  Jake looked down at the ground and kicked a little dirt off his shoes. He usually did not hesitate. By now, the ticket book should be out, and his pen scribbling furiously. Instead, he found himself enchanted by this woman's smile. She was a helluva looker that was
for sure. In her fancy clothes, she was the perfect image of a city lady. He wondered what had brought her to these parts. He had caught the rental car plates on the vehicle earlier. Rarely, did he ever come across someone so strikingly beautiful on this stretch of highway.

  “If you promise to slow down, maybe I can let you go with a warning.”

  She gave him that dazzling smile again, the kind Jake thought could light up a whole room, and said, “Oh, my goodness. Thank you so much, Sheriff. I promise to slow down. Cross my heart.”

  She even made the little hand gesture across her chest, and Jake couldn't help but chuckle.

  “You're welcome” he replied, catching just the slightest glimpse of cleavage and feeling a little embarrassed about it like a schoolboy.

  “May I ask your name?” she asked.

  “Jake. Jake Collins. Sherriff of Clearwater,” he said proudly.

  “Nice to meet you, Jake. I’m Terri.” She held out her French manicured hand to the Jake, which he shook firmly.

  “Where are you headed to, Miss Terri?” he asked.

  “Oh, just Terri, please. My Uncle Bud moved out here and bought a ranch years ago. He passed away, and now I’m handling his estate,” she said, a tear coming to her eye thinking about him.

  “Oh, you must mean Bud Harley? We all know each other around these parts. I’m sorry for your loss, Miss Lawson. I knew your uncle well. Good man. I actually worked for him a couple of summers during high school. Funny, he never mentioned a niece…,” he said.

  Terri quickly changed the subject. “Um, I’ve had a long day, and I’m desperate to get to the powder room. Can you tell me the quickest way to get to the ranch house? Again, I’m sorry for speeding. I didn’t mean to harm anyone,” Terry confessed.

  “Actually, it’d be easier if you followed me. The roads can be a bit confusing for the uninitiated. Do you mind a police escort?” Jake asked.

  With everything from the past two weeks, Terri was open for anything. “Oh, alright. Why not?” She was beginning to understand why her Uncle Bud loved Montana so much.

  Chapter 2

  Terri dutifully followed the sheriff’s car down meandering roads with hardly any signage. The sun was setting and she said a silent prayer. She easily imagined how it could’ve turned out differently if she had gotten lost on these desolate roads. Stranded. No gas. Lost. Looking crazy. Eaten by coyotes. That’s how her city mind worked sometimes. And her mind was also on the fine man in front of her. Sheriff Jake Collins was a hottie, she thought. But if she learned anything from her relationship from Tom was that heartbreak can come in handsome packages.

  Thankfully, the sheriff led her directly to the driveway of the home of her late Uncle Bud.

  The ranch turned out not to be what she had expected, but then she wasn't sure what she had expected to begin with. Maybe a rustic looking cabin surrounded by a lot of thick patches of trees and fields. Instead, she found a brightly blue colored home, nicely kept, with immaculate flower gardens in front. She never took her Uncle Bud for the flower planting type.

  She got out of her car as did the dapper sheriff in his uniform, who looked good enough to eat, or at least lick all over, and Terri did not have the usual weakness for men in uniform.

  “Well, this is where I leave you, Terri.”

  “Thanks, Sherriff,” she said.

  He took off his hat and held it against his chest.

  “You can call me, Jake,” he replied.

  “Thank you, Jake.”

  She couldn't help but feel a stirring of attraction for this gallant man.

  “Perhaps I'll see you around again while I'm here,” she added.

  “It’s a small town. We’ll see each other. I’m sure. Just go over to Clearwater Café. It's where most of the town spends their free time. You must know of Sally.”

  “Sally?” she asked, perplexed. “I don't believe so.”

  “Oh, I'm sorry. Again, small town. We assume everyone knows of everyone and with your uncle having lived here. Bud and Sally, who owns the cafe, were a bit of...an item the past year. She spent a good amount of time out here. If you have any questions about the property she can probably answer them.”

  That explained the flower garden, Terri thought. She couldn't believe she had never heard that Uncle Bud had been dating someone, but then she'd been so busy the past year she didn't do a good job of keeping in touch she sadly realized.

  “Well, thanks again. I'll be sure to check out the cafe and meet Sally, too.”

  “Yes, m'am,” Jake said, placing his hat back on his head. “Take care now.”

  She noticed that he appeared a little hesitant to leave, and she wondered if maybe...just maybe...he felt the same kind of attraction she did. But then she reminded herself that after everything from the past couple of weeks, all she came here to do was clear her head and decide what to do with Uncle Bud's house. Why complicate things?

  “You, too. Have a great evening,” she told him.

  He nodded and with that he got back in his patrol car and drove off.

  She decided to come back later and get her luggage. Instead, she took the key Uncle Bud's lawyer had sent to her and went up to the house which was surrounded by lovely quiet acres of land. It was a two story wooden building with lovely detailing outside down to the white picket fence, surrounded by the flat lands but which were then circled by numerous mountain ranges. In the dim light, she could see a few cattle were grazing in the distance.

  She walked up the creaky wooden steps up to the door. She inserted the key and threw open the door to the dark quiet home. The house still smelled of Uncle Bud. She ventured into the nearby living room with its rustic sofa and chair. Family pictures were scattered over the fireplace mantle, and she found a picture of herself in Central Park during a visit from her uncle not taken long after she transitioned. She positively beamed in the picture radiating happiness and a sense of self-acceptance she never had before, and it warmed her heart to see that he had framed it. When she turned around she noticed on the opposite wall still hung a picture of him, Terrence. It was the same picture she had found in her bedroom drawer the night she went to meet Tom. He had kept this picture up, too.

  It always startled her a bit to see a picture of her former self. The body she had lived in then had always felt like a stranger's from as far back as she remembered. Looking at it now, the person seemed like a distant memory. Almost like the feeling of waking after a long dream. On a conscious level, she knew that was her in the photo, but it felt so unreal since she never identified with the person in that body. In fact, going through puberty was very difficult. Imagine the shock of seeing your girl friends grow breasts and wider hips while you were getting hairier and your voice started to deepen. It was feeling like an unwelcome stranger in her own body and jealous that your friends were turning into young women while you were becoming what felt like a foreigner, a deceiver. Only after years of therapy did “he,” Terrence, realize he was born in the wrong body.

  Uncle Bud had been the only one in her family who supported her transition. A leftover hippie from the 1960s and 70s, he believed in the individual’s freedom and dignity. At one low point, he mentioned the Native American “two spirit people” he had learned of since living in Montana, individuals of the tribe who assumed the identity of the opposite gender.

  “They were two-spirits and were respected by the tribe,” Uncle Bud told her during an emotional phone conversation when Terrence Lawson confessed “he” could no longer live in the body “he” possessed. That conversation gave her some of the strength to move on with the decision. First, she started to wear women’s clothes and eventually assumed a new identity, legal name change and all. It was hard at first just becoming used to the fact that she could be true to herself that she didn't have to put on a front of being a man when she didn't feel the least bit like a man inside. The pain of the surgery had been the worst she had ever felt in her life. But looking back, the pain was the birth of the person sh
e was always meant to be.

  The sudden ring of the doorbell startled her and brought her back to the present. She couldn't imagine who could be dropping by here in the middle of nowhere when she knew no one unless it could be the sheriff again. Now that would be a pleasant surprise, she thought. She began to be aware of a warmness that permeated her body thinking about Sheriff Jake, which surprised her since her wounds from Tom were so fresh. Maybe Jake was right about getting back up on the horse…

  She looked through the peephole and saw a dark blonde haired man at the front door wearing a brown business suit and yellow tie. He sure didn’t look like he fit in around the area, Terri thought. He looked like a city businessman. And even more eerie was his slight resemblance to the sheriff, but the two men carried themselves in completely different ways.

  She cracked open the door and said, “Yes? May I help you?”

  “Good day, ma’am. My name’s Carl Collins. I work for the Clearview Estates Resort housing development over the hill there,” the man said handing her a business card. Something about him reminded her of an unsavory used car salesman trying to pawn a lemon off on someone. “Word through the grapevine was that a relative of Bud's would be visiting soon, and I just happened to drive by and see a car here.”

  “Well, news does travel fast around here, doesn't it, Mr. Collins?” she said, opening the door a little wider. “I’m Terri. Terri Lawson. Bud’s niece.”

  He flashed a big toothy grin and continued, “Pleasure to meet you ma’am. I just wanted to welcome you to town and that if you ever need anything, please do not hesitate to ask.

  “Why thank you, Mr. Collins.”

  “You can call me Carl. The development I represent is looking to expand its golf course and housing units and this is a prime location for development. If you feel like selling your property…”

  She eyed him suspiciously and then said, “I haven’t given much thought to it as I just got into town. Is everyone in this town named Collins? I just met a Sheriff Collins…”