by Jake Mactire
“I reckon I learned my lesson.”
“Jeff, somehow I doubt that. It seems to be the cowboy way, act first and think later. Now for the record, why’d you come to suspect Wayne?”
I went over the story with the sheriff; how I remembered Harrison almost running into Wayne, how there was only that one footprint in the frozen mud and it matched. How I had found the cattle rustling receipts and other evidence in Wayne’s trailer. How Wayne was planning to kill me and Mike, and how I’d jumped him and literally smashed his face with the bronze sculpture I’d given him. Mike was there and held my hand the whole time. When I got to the part about Wayne wanting to mutilate me and kill Mike, he squeezed my hand so hard it hurt. I talked for a good half an hour into the recorder Sheriff Johnston had brought.
“Okay, Jeff, I’ll get this transcribed, and you can come and sign it. You’re lucky that the wind came up and blew the door shut; you realize that this could be your funeral, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“So what was the whole scheme, and why did Wayne’s criminal activity change from rustlin’ to killin’?” Mike asked.
“Wayne talked quite a bit when I questioned him. The whole thing actually started a couple of years ago. Wayne had started rounding up cattle one or two at a time on his time off. His father was a butcher, and when Wayne was younger, he used to help him, so he knew how to dress and cut up a beef. It was just a sideline for a long while.”
“So what changed?” Mike asked again.
“He started goin’ to Spencer’s church. I guess a lady who he’d met invited him there. After listenin’ to the reverend’s message of love and redemption, he began to feel resentful of you.”
I had to jump in here. “I still don’t get why. Wayne had always seemed open-minded and acceptin’ of me. I woulda never done anythin’ to hurt Wayne. When I found out that the ranch was paid off and I was gettin’ some insurance money, I wanted to do somethin’ for him.”
“The hate he was hearin’ began to have an effect on him. Then when your dad died, I think that was the last straw for him. He felt entitled, and he was jealous of you.”
“But a good part of who I am is due to Wayne and his influence over the years. Couldn’t he see that my bein’ gay is only one part of me? Also, it’s no one’s business but mine and now Mike’s.”
“Jeff, I honestly believe that folks who are so filled with hate and evil, like Wayne became, like Reverend Spencer and others, are blinded to the goodness in others. They judge and condemn and fall deeper and deeper into their hatred. They close their eyes to all that is good.”
“It’s easier for me to just think he went insane.”
“In a way he did, son. All that hatred made him crazy.”
“How did Mark fit in?”
“That’s an interesting sideline. The stuff he told you and Mike about California, well that was a crock. He’s really from Texas. He was in some ministry there that ‘changes’ gay folks. He was a really desperately unhappy man. He couldn’t accept himself for who he was, and he couldn’t be what he wanted to be; he just wasn’t wired that way. He was goin’ to Spencer’s church also. I reckon his seein’ you, the type of guy who is on the outside who he wanted to be, and then your bein’ like him on the inside was just a constant reminder of how unhappy he was. It seems that on one hand, he really did want to be your and Mike’s friend. On the other, to do that would mean givin’ up the beliefs he’d held on to for most of his life.”
“So why did Wayne kill him?”
“Here’s the kicker; Wayne keeps sayin’ God said he had to die. Wayne felt he was justified in killing him and the biker because God would pardon him. He also said that Mark was backsliding; he wanted outta the rustling business more and more as he got to know the two of you. He began to question Spencer’s hatred.”
“So, when we figured out Mark was in on it, did Wayne see that as some sort of a sign from God that Mark wasn’t worthy or somethin’?” I asked.
“He did. With the biker, he killed him because of his numerous screwups. Everything Wayne had asked him to do, he failed at, so therefore, he had to die. It was also mighty convenient that with him dead, he couldn’t identify Wayne, same with Mark.”
“Pedro?”
“That’s where Wayne’s insanity defense would fall apart if he were to go that route. Pedro stumbled on Wayne, Mark, and the other guy doin’ their rustlin’. He was shot in the back as he went for help. Dead men tell no tales.”
“Mike said I messed up Wayne pretty bad.”
“You did. He had a pretty bad concussion, several broken ribs, most of his teeth in front knocked out, broken jaw, broken nose and cheekbones, as well as the upper part of both eye sockets broken. He’s gonna be a marked man from now until the day he dies; he also has a broken leg and arm from the fall. You must have hit him with quite a bit of momentum. The two of you flew about ten feet. His cushioning you is the only reason you’re not more broken up.”
“Mike said I’m not bein’ charged with assault or anythin’ like that?”
“No, son, you’re not. You might have gone a little overboard in defending yourself, but why you did is understandable. You were in shock pretty bad when they brought you in. In fact, you were in worse shape than Wayne, though he’s the one who looked real bad.”
“Will I need to testify at a trial?”
“My understanding is that he made a guilty plea and a plea bargain. I’m sure he did it to avoid the death penalty. It doesn’t look like there will be a trial.”
“I guess that’s a good thing. Can I ask the judge to go easy on him?” The sheriff looked at me for a long time before speaking.
“That’s real big of you, Jeff. He was trying to kill both you and Mike. Are you sure you want to do that?”
“I am, Sheriff; if I were to forget all the stuff Wayne did for me before goin’ bad, and were to want just to punish and have revenge, I’d be no better than Reverend Spencer’s Christians.”
“I’ll talk with the prosecuting attorney. Son, you should be right proud of the way you figured the whole thing out; you too, Mike. You guys ever want to be deputies, just let me know.”
“Thanks.”
“I am gonna head back to the office now.” He shook my hand and Mike’s and walked out. Just as he was leavin’, the doctor came by.
“How are you feeling, Mr. Connelly?”
“Other than the shoulder hurtin’ and a headache, only bad; I get tired just from lyin’ here too.”
“I imagine so. When they brought you in here, you had lost a fair amount of blood. It wasn’t enough to be fatal, but enough to cause you some difficulties. You were in shock and had suffered a mild concussion.”
“No wonder I slept three days.”
“The fact you did, helped you quite a bit. Also the fact that you’re in excellent physical shape was in your favor.”
“How bad is my shoulder?”
“The bullet passed clear through. Luckily, it didn’t hit any bones. It did nick an artery, hence the loss of blood. We were able to repair much of the damage when we cleaned and stitched up the wound. Your partner here has let me know you guys work out five to six days a week?”
“That’s right.”
“I’ve got physical therapy scheduled for you for the next couple of weeks. That’ll help you regain full use of the shoulder and arm and allow you to work out without damaging anything.”
“That’s great!”
“We’ll be discharging you day after tomorrow if we can get you up, and you’re able to get around a bit, and your vital signs remain stable.”
“Okay. Will I be able to take my buddy huntin’ once I get out?” Mike smiled at me from behind the doctor.
“After a week or so of rest, I don’t see why not. I would caution you not to shoot a rifle with any kickback. It won’t keep your shoulder from continuing to heal, but it certainly won’t feel good.”
“No problems with that.”
“I
’ll also prescribe some pain pills if you need them.”
“Is that the stuff that makes me feel like I’m really happy and just floatin’ around? The stuff that even though I can still feel the pain, I just don’t care?”
“That would be the stuff.”
“Don’t reckon I need it. I don’t like the way it feels.”
“I’ll write the prescription. It’s up to you to fill it. Mr. Connelly, you’re a lucky man. Not only in not sustaining major damage to yourself, or due to the fact that you’re healing very well, but also due to the number of people who care about you. I’ve heard that this young man here hasn’t been home since you were brought in.” He gestured to Mike. “I’ve had to give one of my nurses some vacation time because she kept coming down here to see you. I’ve also heard you’ve had a constant stream of visitors.” He shook my hand as he left. “I’ll stop by in a few hours.”
I looked around the room. There were quite a few flowers. “It looks like the florist is doin’ good business off me.”
“There’s more at home.”
“You’re kiddin’.”
“Nope, and Smitty said, as of today’s mail, you’ve got quite a few cards.”
“Still the best thing to me is you bein’ here.”
“I was so scared, Jeff. I thought I was gonna lose you.” He held my hand in a death grip.
“I told ya, buddy, the bullet wasn’t kryptonite.”
“Cocky bastard.”
“The reason I jumped Wayne even though he had the gun is he said he was gonna go after you. I couldn’t let that happen no matter what happened to me.”
Mike just looked at me, tears in his eyes. He squeezed my hand. Just then there was a commotion at the door.
“Jeff! You’re awake and coherent! I told you it was all going to end soon.” Mary Grace breezed into the room. She grabbed my hand and held it tightly.
“Thanks, Mary Grace, and thanks for all your help.”
“Don’t mention it at all. I have something to help your shoulder heal.” She opened her big mom-type purse and pulled out a beautiful piece of rock crystal.
“I programmed this for healing.” She set it gently on my shoulder. I woulda thought the weight of anythin’ on my shoulder would hurt, but surprisingly it didn’t.
“Thanks again! You take pretty good care of me and Mike.”
“That’s what friends are for. Oh, after the news of your solving the cattle thievery and catching the rustlers hit the newspapers, the gallery has been swamped. I expect that it is going to stay that way until after the New Year. Two of your sculptures have sold, and we had a reporter from American West Magazine there to see the exhibit. You’re a famous man now, Jeff. So when are you able to go home?”
“Possibly the day after tomorrow; I’m really lookin’ forward to it. I wanna get rid of all these tubes.”
“Mike, how are you doing? Did you finally get some sleep?”
“I did. Actually, I’m getting used to sleepin’ in this chair.”
“See, Jeff, you need to get better quickly. If you don’t, this boy will never get any sleep.”
“You can go home, buddy; I don’t want you to get sick or nothin’.”
“Don’t worry about me. Just concentrate on gettin’ better.”
“I guess Wayne has to be in solitary confinement in prison.”
“Why is that, Mary Grace?”
“I heard it’s common knowledge that he was beaten so badly by a gay man, even though he had a gun. They don’t give him a long life expectancy if he’s in with the general population.”
“Wow, that’s got to be tough; I wouldn’t even wish that on him, bein’ alone and disfigured for the rest of his life in captivity.”
“The evil he sent out reverberated on him. He got what he deserved. The Goddess doesn’t mess around when it comes to justice.”
Mike and I just looked at each other. I have a lot of respect for Mary Grace’s beliefs. Maybe it was psychosomatic, but my shoulder did feel better with the crystal on it.
“Jeff, Mike, I brought the pictures of the caroling and the snowball fight; do you feel up to looking at them?”
“Sure, Mary Grace.” She pulled out a folder that contained a bunch of pictures. They had turned out really well. We all looked good singing together, and the snowball fight pictures showed that we were having a great time. Everyone was smiling, and you could tell we were all great friends. Mike leaned over me while we were looking at the pictures. It was really nice of Mary Grace to bring them.
“These are fantastic, Mary Grace. Are you putting them up in the exhibit?”
“We certainly are. We really want to stress the fact that you and Mike are locals.” I was beginning to feel really tired again. I started yawning, and Mary Grace made the excuse she had to get some shopping done while she was here in Wenatchee. I closed my eyes, just for a second, and drifted off to sleep.
It was several hours later when I woke up. Mike was still in the room, and he had Harrison in his lap. He saw my eyes open and smiled at me, and then said something to Harrison. Just then I realized that someone was holding my finger, and I turned my head to see Ann, sitting in a chair which was pulled right up to my bed. Tom was standing behind her. Lisa smiled at me and kept a hold of my finger.
“Uncle Jeff!”
“Uncle Jeff!” Mike brought Harrison over to me and set him on the bed in one of the few areas which didn’t have any tubes from me to something.
“You got the bad guys, Uncle Jeff.”
“I sure did, buckaroo! They’re not gonna bother us no more.”
“Can I go huntin’ with you and Uncle Mike?”
“Did you ask your mom and dad?” He looked up at Tom and Ann with pleading eyes.
“Please, please?”
“You think you’re gonna be well enough to go hunting?” Ann looked at me skeptically.
“The doctor said it’s okay. I reckon Mike will have to do all the work though.”
“I’ll help, Uncle Mike!” Mike smiled at Harrison. I had to answer though.
“I bet you will, buckaroo, and that’ll make twice the work for Uncle Mike.”
“You must be feelin’ better, Jeff; you’re startin’ to joke around.” Ann laughed at me and then asked me how old I was the first time my dad took me hunting. When I answered three, she and Tom laughed and said yes.
Just then Maria brought a tray with some food on it. Tom, Ann, and the kids left to give me a chance to eat. I got big kisses from Harrison and Lisa. After they had left, I tried the mystery meat in gravy sauce and imitation potatoes.
“Maria, am I supposed to eat this, or is it for somethin’ else?”
She laughed. “Our hospital food is not the best, is it?”
“That’s an understatement if I ever heard one.” She looked around and then opened a bag she had brought. Inside were three pork and red chile tamales.
“I brought you these. I hope they make up for the bad food.”
“Thanks!” I dug in. Despite not bein’ able to identify just what the hospital food was, I ate it all, even the jello and I hate jello. I was still exhausted and fell asleep right after dinner.
I ended up sleeping the whole night through. Mike was still there when I woke up. He’d shaved and had on different clothes; I found out later he had gone to Maria’s for a few hours sleep and to clean up. Sandy and Smitty were also there. I smiled at Sandy, and she started crying. She grabbed my hand.
“Jeff, I was so worried. Every time I came you were out or asleep.”
“The bullet wasn’t made of kryptonite, darlin’. I’m okay. I actually feel a lot better today.” She slapped my hand and started crying even harder.
“Kryptonite my ass, you could have been killed. Just like Dad said, you acted like a real cowboy, act first and think later. I was really afraid for you. Mike said you were so pale when they got you in the ambulance that you already looked dead. None of us could sleep for worrying about you.”
I glanc
ed at Mike and said, “Thanks, buddy.” He suddenly found his boots real interesting.
“Sandy, I did call your dad. I didn’t mean to upset anyone.”
“I know; I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“I do have a favor to ask you though, darlin’.”
“Of course, Jeff, what?”
“Can you explain to me sometime how women think? I mean, you start cryin’ because you’re so worried about me, then you hit me. This ain’t the first time it’s happened either. I just want to understand what’s goin’ on in that beautiful head of yours.” She finally smiled and giggled. Smitty chuckled.
“Jeff, I don’t think we’re ever going to understand womenfolk. Remember men are from Mars, and women are from Venus,” Smitty commented.
“I reckon so. I just wanna understand Sandy. We’re pretty close, and it hurts, especially the gettin’ hit when I don’t understand.”
“Okay, enough you two of talking about me like I wasn’t even here. Jeff, I reckon I was just so upset and worried; all the emotion got bottled up inside, then I got a bit mad that you didn’t think.”
“Okay, I reckon next time, I’ll just stay way back and get you a punchin’ bag or somethin’ so you can hit it and not me.”
“Good idea, Jeff.” Smitty winked at me, and Sandy lightly slapped his arm. She then changed the subject.
“Jeff, Wayne’s arraignment is next week. He’s pleading guilty to take the death penalty off the table. Dad talked to the prosecutor and the judge, and they want to hear what you have to say about the sentencing.”
“I’m glad they’re open to listenin’.”
“Jeff, that’s a right nice thing you’re doing for Wayne,” Smitty said. “I don’t know if I could be that forgiving.”
“Smitty, I ain’t gonna let myself become corrupted by hate. Hate is what got Wayne in this spot in the first place.” Just then José and Josh came in the room.
“Boss, I am very happy to see that you are getting better. Hijole, I was worried.” Josh nodded as José spoke.
“So how are you, Mr. Foreman?” I asked.
“Quien? Me?” José looked very surprised.
“Yes you. You’ve been onboard with every issue we’ve had since I got back, you ran roundup well, and you’ve really jumped into this dude thing with both feet. I can’t think of a better person for foreman.” José grinned and gingerly gave me a hug.