Now and Then

By

     Kyle patted Cody on the head, gently pushing the big dog out of the doorway.  Grumbling, the dog edged over enough to let the man through then resumed his sprawled position in the sun.  Kyle shook his blond hair out of his eyes and slapped his hat on.  He stopped at the edge of the wooden porch, his hands on the small of his back, stretching as he gazed across the small valley.

    If he lived to be a hundred, he didn't think he'd ever tire of the view.  Directly in front of him lay Sleeping Indian Mountain, to the west lay the broken ridges of the Myriad Peaks, to the east towered Mt. Peavens, named for one of the early explorers.  Between him and the mountains lay a small narrow valley, bisected by a shallow but wide river that had never run dry as long as anyone could remember.  Closer to him were several corrals, holding twenty horses.  The gentlest were held in the closest corral, then the more spirited in the next, and the last corral held his favorites, the feisty ones that took an experienced rider to handle them. 

    Any minute now, Matt, his hired hand, would drive up, a cup of coffee in one hand, a cigarette in the other.  He would be yawning, scratching, and complaining as he climbed out of his battered pick-up.  Matt's hair was gray and thinning, and he was getting stiffer, but he was still the best Kyle'd ever seen at handling horses.  It didn't matter to Matt whether the animal was a biting, kicking outlaw or a docile rocking horse, he loved them all and they apparently loved him right back. 

   A plume of dust announced Matt's arrival in the yard.  Kyle couldn't help grinning as the old man half fell out of the truck without spilling a drop of coffee. Cigarette dangling from his mouth, he scratched his ample belly.  Gnarled fingers snagged the cigarette as he started to yawn.

"Mornin', boy."  To Matt, Kyle was just a boy, despite his 35 years.

"Mornin', Matt."  Kyle nodded as he came down the steps.

"Don't know what this world's comin' to, boy."  Matt shook his head.  "Couple cars of city folks just meandering down the road, gawking.  S'nough to make you crazy."

    "City folks, huh?  Maybe it's our riders comin'."

    "You got somebody comin' this early in the season?"

    "Yup.  Two gals, and three guys."

    "Kinda uneven, ain't it?"

    "They're not together.  The gals are together; a lady and her aunt.  The others are  businessmen on one of them 'bonding' things.  Why you'd want to bond with another guy, I ain't figured out.  But they pay good, and that's what matters these days."

    "Where you takin' 'em?"

    "The ladies said they don't care, and the guys want to go down towards the Myries.  It's a two-dayer with a campout."

    "Lucky you.  Need help with the gear?"

    "Nope.  Got it all packed, just need to load it when they get here."

    "Who you takin'?"

    "Daisy for the aunt, Ghost for the niece, Storm, Apple, and Dunny for the guys. I'm riding Gun."

    "Gotcha.  I'll go fetch 'em.  Sammy for the pack?"

    "Yeah, Sammy's fine."

    Matt nodded and slouched off toward the barn, still scratching and yawning.  Kyle dug a smoke out of his shirt pocket and lit it absently, watching twin dust plumes wind their way toward the ranch.  It wasn't much of a working ranch, but he made enough off of trail rides and outfitting hunters to keep the land, at least for a few more years.  Squinting against the swirling smoke, he tilted his face toward the strengthening sun.  He sure hoped the aunt wasn't old and fat.  It would also be nice if the niece wasn't too bad looking.  He could care less about the men.  They said they could ride, but he'd find that out before they left the yard.

          Kyle had just finished his cigarette when the first car pulled into the yard, slowing down in consideration of the flying dust.  It rolled to a gentle stop near the porch.  The driver popped out of the car and turned in a slow circle, looking at the hills.  She was a tiny thing, barely over five feet high, her shoulder-length light brown hair shining in the sun.  She had on well-worn boots, jeans, a T-shirt with an unbuttoned cotton shirt over the top of it, and a battered cowboy hat was perched on the back of her head.  Kyle figured her to be in her late twenties.  Just the right age.

    "What a beautiful place to live!  I'm Lissa and you must be Kyle?"  She grinned.

    "Yeah" Kyle broke off, staring at the passenger as she climbed out.

    Lissa looked at him curiously, then turned to see what he was looking at.  The passenger looked to be in her late forties, slightly over-weight, with short curly hair.  What held Kyle's attention, however, was what she wore.  A blindingly yellow cowboy hat rode atop the curls, clashing with the neon-pink baggy shirt.  Instead of jeans, she wore shimmering green slacks, with palm trees fashioned out of sequins on each front pocket.  Her feet appeared to be bare, and then he realized that she wore sandals with tiny straps.  Trying hard to maintain his composure, Kyle swallowed hard, aware that Matt had stopped in mid-stride to stare at the apparition.

    "Uh, yeah.  I'm Kyle."  He finally said.

    "This is my Aunt Martha."  Lissa giggled at Kyle's expression.

    "Pleased to meet you, Kyle.  Lovely place you have here."  Martha smiled.

    "Thanks." 

    Well aware that he was trying to find a tactful way to deal with her aunt's outfit, Lissa moved around the car toward him. 

    "Which horses are we going to use?  They're all beautiful."

    "Matt is bringing them out."

    "Will you show me, please, which one is mine?"

    "Uh, yeah, sure."

    "Coming, Aunt Martha?"

    "No, dear, you go ahead.  I'll be along in a minute."

    Lissa started toward the horses, chattering a mile a minute.  Casting a why-me? glance to the heavens, Kyle followed her.  He introduced her to Matt, then noticed the second car was about to enter the yard and turned back toward the house, stopping so suddenly that Lissa walked right into him.  Aunt Martha was sitting on the top step, Cody's head in her lap.  That in itself was unusual as Cody was very reserved around strangers, and here he was gazing at the woman in adoration as she scratched his ears.  The second surprise he got was the woman.  She now wore jeans, a pale green T-shirt with a brown cotton shirt over the top, scuffed boots, and a gray cowboy hat lay on the step beside her.  She looked up, found Kyle staring at her with his mouth open, and burst into laughter.

    "I'm sorry, Kyle.  I wanted to see what kind of a person you are.  I'm not really that outrageous."

    Grinning, Kyle strode over and planted a boot on the lower step and leaned an elbow on his knee.

    "Well, Auntie M, what did you do to my dog?"

    "Auntie Em?"  Lissa chuckled.  "That sure doesn't look like Toto."

    "Cody, actually."

    "I'll have you know that I didn't do anything to him.  I sat down and he joined me all by himself."  Martha shrugged.

    "Aunt Martha has that effect on animals.  All animals."  Lissa started up the steps, changing her mind when Cody gathered himself to rise. 

Shaking his head, Kyle turned to greet the second group of riders.  This bunch drove a Mercedes.  The three men that got out were all dressed in brand new jeans, boots, shirts, denim jackets and hats.  These three could ride?  Well, that remained to be seen.

    "Good morning." The driver said.  "I'm Martin Mull, this is Donald Jameson, and Thomas Anders."

    "'Morning.  I'm Kyle.  This is Lissa and Martha, they will be riding with us."

    The men exchanged glances, then the driver swept his hat off."Please to have you with us, ladies."

    Vaguely uneasy, Kyle turned toward the corrals.  "If you will all follow me, I'll match you up with your horses."  He walked down to where Matt had the six horses tied to the rails outside the now empty first corral.  "Who wants to go first?"  He asked.

    "Doing what?"  Mull asked.

    "Mount your assigned horse and ride him around the corral so I can decide whether the two of you match."

    "I told you we could ride."

    "Yeah, I know you did.  However, it's my policy to check out each rider before we leave.  You wanna go first?"

    "Alright.  Which one is mine?"

    "The dun.  His name is Dunny."

    Mull turned and reached for the reins to the bay.  Kyle saw Lissa smother a grin as she turned to look at the mountains.

    "That's a bay, Mr. Mull.  This one is a dun."

    "I am aware of that.  I was simply moving that one out of the way."

    Matt snickered, turning it into a cough when Kyle glared at him.

    Mull's climb into the saddle wasn't graceful, but he did make it.  Matt opened the gate and he rode into the corral, moving from a walk to a trot to a jog and back to a walk per Kyle's instructions.  He rode out of the corral and Jameson took his place on the bay, followed by Anders on the paint.

    "Alright, that will work.  Lissa, I've got you on Ghost, the appy."

    "Cool."

    Lissa swung lithely to the saddle, rode into the corral and put Ghost through his required paces, then backed him up, and spun him in a tight circle before exiting the corral."He's a great horse, Kyle."  She smiled.

    "Auntie M, I've got you on Daisy."

    "Uh, Kyle?"  Matt called softly.

    "Yeah?"

    He turned to see what Matt wanted and his jaw dropped.  Martha was standing at Gun's head, apparently talking to him.  Kyle stared in disbelief as the big steel-gray stallion gently bumped her with his nose, asking to be petted.  That horse was half-wild, and Kyle was the only one who could ride him.  For that matter, Kyle and Matt were the only ones that could touch him without getting bitten or kicked.  Totally oblivious to being watched, Martha reached up and rubbed Gun's forehead and patted his nose.

          "Auntie M?"  Kyle called.

          "Hmm?"  She turned toward him, laughing when Gun almost knocked her hat off nuzzling her.

          "I've got you on Daisy.  She's the roan."

          "Not on this beautiful boy?"

          "No.  I ride Gun."

          "Gun?"

          "Short for Son of a Gun."  Matt grinned.

          "I told you she has a way with critters."  Lissa said at his side.

          "So I see."

          With a final pat on the neck, Martha left Gun and went to Daisy.  She talked to her for a moment, patted her nose, then swung up into the saddle and performed the required exercises. 

          "She will do nicely, Kyle.  Thank you."  Martha grinned at him.

          Glancing over to be sure Sammy was packed, Kyle did a flying mount into Gun's saddle, easily riding out the crow-hops as he looked over the small group.

          "Everyone ready?"  He asked, receiving five affirmatives.  "Okay.  I lead.  We ride single file unless I say otherwise.  No running your horse, no stopping without letting me know.  Clear?"

          "Yeah, yeah."  Mull said.  "Let's go."

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          Ignoring Matt, who was rolling his eyes, Kyle turned the stallion and headed out of the yard, leading Sammy.  Lissa fell in directly behind him; Martha behind her, then Mull, Anders, and Jameson brought up the rear without talking. 

          "Kyle?"  Lissa called.

          "Yeah?"

          "Does that mountain have a name?"

          "Which one?"  He asked, turning to look back at her.

          "That one."  She pointed to the right.

          "That's called Sleeping Indian.  He's on his back."

          "Yeah, I can see it now."  She said after squinting at the mountain for a moment.

          "Kyle?"  Martha called.

          "Auntie M?"

          "May I ride up beside Lissa?"

          "Yeah."

          A light touch of her heel brought Daisy up beside Ghost, the two horses touching noses. 

          "Beautiful up here, isn't it?"  Martha asked.

          "Oh, yeah."  Lissa replied, her eyes on Kyle's back.

          Martha laughed at her, shaking her head.  When Kyle glanced back suspiciously, both women looked at him innocently.  Tugging his hat down over his eyes, Kyle turned back around.  After riding for a couple hours, Kyle stopped and turned Gun sideways, looking over the group.

          "Everybody okay?  Anyone want a break?"

          "No."  Mull almost snapped.  "Keep going."

          His eyes darkening with anger at the man's rudeness, Kyle looked at the two women.

          "Lissa?"

          "I'm fine."  She smiled at him.

          "Auntie M?"

          "I'm just fine, dear boy."

          Chuckling, Kyle gigged Gun around and back onto the trail.

          "Grumpy, aren't they?"  Martha leaned close to whisper to Lissa.

          "Maybe they'll get saddle sores."  Lissa grinned at the thought.

          A short time later, they left the trees and started into a wide meadow covered with wild flowers of every color and description.

          "Hey, Kyle!"  Lissa called softly.

          "Yeah?"

          "Can we ride up there with you for awhile?"

          "While we're in the meadow you can."

          Lissa moved up on his left, Martha on his right.  Kyle looked from one to the other, then tugged his hat even further down over his blue-gray eyes.

          "You pull that hat down any further and we'll have to get you a seeing-eye horse."  Martha teased.

          "We don't bite, honest."  Lissa assured him.

          "Sure you don't."  He retorted.

          "It's just that those three give me the creeps."  She told him.

          "They won't bother you."  He said flatly.

          "How do you know that?"  Martha asked curiously.

          "Because I won't let them."

          "Well, that's a good conversation stopper."  Martha glanced over at him.

          "Sorry.  I meant" He stopped.

          "That's alright."  Martha patted his arm.  "We know what you meant.  So, Kyle, where are we going?"

          "Up to the Myries."

          "The whats?"

          "The Myriad Peaks.  That jumble of rocky peaks up there."  He pointed.

          "How long have you lived here, Kyle?"  Lissa asked.

          "All my life.  Born right there in that ranch house."

          "Where are your parents?"

          "Dead.  They died within a year of each other.  Ma just didn't have the heart to go on after Dad was gone."  He said matter of factly.

          "Do you provide guide service with your guide service?"  Martha asked.

          "Say what?"  Kyle stared at her.

          "You know; Geronimo was born under that tree, Custer's last stand was over there, that sort of thing."

          "Auntie M, this is Colorado.  Geronimo was not in Colorado.  Custer's last stand was in Montana."  He said patiently.

          "I know that, silly.  I meant, will you tell us about the history of the land and the people that lived here."

          "Why didn't you say that?"

          "She did."  Lissa giggled.  "You'll get used to her."

          "I doubt that."  Kyle shook his head.

          "Well?"  Martha prodded.

          "Okay, I'll give you the nickel tour, ladies.  You're riding in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado.  There are two theories of how they were formed.  You want the scientific one or the legend?"

          "Oh, the legend, of course."  Martha replied eagerly.

          "That's what I figured."  Kyle tipped his hat back on his head as he grinned at her.  "Back before the gods made man, the earth god and the water god were playing.  They were using the moon as a ball, kicking it back and forth.  The sun god was not happy about that because the moon belonged to him and he liked to have it hanging among the stars where he could see it, not getting dirty rolling around on the ground.  He had warned the younger gods to leave it alone, but as with many young creatures, they did not listen.  When he found them, the moon was rolling to the west with the earth god running after it.  The sun god yelled so loud that it frightened the earth god into a sliding stop.  As his feet slid on the ground, the earth piled up ahead of his feet.  The water god was more timid than the earth god and he began to cry.  The sun god decreed that the land should stay as it was, piled up into uneven mounds and that the water god's tears would remain as the many ponds, lakes and streams found among the mounds.  He also decreed that the moon would remain in the sky with the stars, and should anyone take it again, he would send his fire to the earth and burn everything up.  And that is how the mountains and waters were formed and why the moon always remains in the sky."

          "What a wonderful legend.  Which theory do you believe, Kyle?"  Lissa asked.

          "That one, of course.  There are several Indians among my ancestors."

          "So that makes you part Native American, right?"

          "Yeah, except we call them Indians.  Out here, we don't go in much for 'politcally correct'."  He chuckled.

          "How did the Sleeping Indian come to be?"  Martha asked.

          "He was a Ute, in love with a beautiful Cheyenne girl.  They wanted to marry, but her parents forbid her to see him again.  They made arrangements through sympathetic friends to meet and leave the area together.  They met as arranged at dawn of the time of the Planting Moon.  Unfortunately, her parents found out about it.  They came upon the two lovers as they were kissing.  Angry, her father knocked the Ute to the ground and they dragged her away with them.  Heartbroken, the Ute searched for her for many moons, but could not find her.  He returned to the last place he had seen her and lay down on the ground where she had been sitting, so as to be as near to her as he could.  His friends came and tried to talk him into returning to the village but he refused to leave.  He refused to eat or drink.  He just lay there on the ground, thinking of his lost love.  The gods finally took pity on him and changed him into a mountain so that he could stay there for all eternity." 

          "Isn't that sad?  I love listening to legends.  My people's legends are nowhere near as interesting as yours."  Martha sighed.

          "Who are your people, Auntie M?"  He asked.

          "English for the most part.  Rather boring, actually."  She laughed.

          "So the Ute and Cheyenne lived here, right?  Who else?"  Lissa inquired.

          "The Ute settled here around 1500 A.D., according to the experts in that sort of thing.  Since then you have the Blackfeet, Cheyenne, Arapahoe, Kiowas, Comanches, Pawnee, and Sioux living in various parts of the state.  And of course, you have the White-Eyes or Long Knives, depending on what you prefer to call them.  Today, the Northern Ute and the White Mesa Ute live in Utah on the Uintah-Ouray Reservation and near Blanding; the Southern Ute live down near Four Corners near Iganacio; and the Mountain Ute live on the western end of the Southern Ute Rez near Towaoc.  None of the other nations are still in Colorado, although some individual members live here.  I mean there aren't any rezs for them."  Kyle glanced at his watch.  "You ladies better drop back now, we're moving into the trees again.  We'll be stopping for lunch in awhile."

          Both women reined their horses in, waiting until Kyle and Sammy had pulled ahead of them before they moved back into line again.  They rode for another forty-five minutes before Kyle pulled up in a sun-dappled clearing and dismounted.  Ground-hitching Gun, he walked up to Ghost and reached up, lifting Lissa from the saddle.  Leaving her staring after him with her mouth open, he went to Daisy and easily lifted the larger woman from her saddle, setting her on the ground beside him.

          "Thank you, Kyle."  She smiled.

          Kyle nodded and started unpacking lunch from Sammy's gear bags.

          "What did he do that for?"  Lissa demanded, joining Martha.  "I'm perfectly capable of getting down myself."          

          "You young people never cease to amaze me."  Martha sighed.

          "What?" 

          "In the first place, he's a gentleman and you are a lady.  What you just experienced is old-fashioned courtesy.  In the second place, what he did subtly tells those three twits that he is looking out for us.  Hands off, in other words, my girl."

          Lissa and Martha strolled around the clearing, stretching and admiring wild flowers while the three men more or less fell off of their horses.  Mull pulled his jacket off and tossed it over a tree branch.  Anders and Jameson moved around stiffly, ignoring everyone else. 

          "Come and get it."  Kyle called.

          The women responded quickly, the mountain air and exercise making them hungry.  Kyle had sandwiches, apples and oranges, and cookies, all laid out on a cloth spread on the ground.  While the group gathered to eat, Kyle grabbed a sandwich and headed for the horses.  Gathering the reins in one hand, the sandwich in the other, he led them toward the trees.

          "Where are you going?"  Mull demanded.

          Kyle turned slowly and studied him for a moment before answering.  "To get them a drink of water.  Unless you'd rather take them?"

          "No."  Mull flapped a dismissing hand.  "You can do it."

          Lissa and Martha stared at him in disbelief, then by unspoken agreement took their lunch and moved to the other side of the clearing, their backs to the men.  They finished just as Kyle returned with the horses.

          "Kyle, we're going to, um, take a short walk."  Martha told him.

          "Don't go too far, Auntie M"  He warned.

          "We won't."  She assured him.

          When they returned, she was walking several feet ahead of Lissa.  Noticing that Mull's jacket had fallen off the branch, she picked it up and started to brush it off.

          "Give me that!"  Mull barked, snatching it from her hands.  "What do you think you're doing?"

          Kyle started to take a step toward them, but Lissa beat him to it, jumping in between her dumb-founded aunt and Mull.

          "Don't be such a jerk!  Your jacket fell on the ground and all she was doing was brushing it off!  You may talk to your wife like that but you won't talk to my aunt like that while I'm around.  I think an apology is in order, don't you?"  She demanded.

          Mull glared at her a moment, then muttered an apology as he turned away to tie his jacket on the back of his saddle.  Lissa put an arm around her aunt's shoulders and guided her to the horses Kyle was holding, mumbling under her breath the whole time.

          "You alright, Auntie M?"  Kyle asked quietly.

          "Heavens, yes!"  She answered indignantly.  "I'm not made of glass, you know."

          "I'd like to punch him right in the nose."  Lissa remarked, still angry.

          "Feisty little thing, aren't you?"  Kyle grinned.

          "Nobody messes with my family."  She flared.

          "Okay, okay."  Kyle lifted both hands, pretending to fend her off.  "Ready to go?"

          "Yeah."  Lissa turned to Ghost, stifling a startled squeal when Kyle's hands closed around her waist, lifting her to the saddle.  "Thanks."

          Kyle assisted Martha into the saddle and mounted Gun, watching as the other three climbed back into their saddles.

          "Are you gentlemen ready?"  He asked blandly, ignoring their angry looks.

          "Yeah."  Mull snapped.

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Reining the big horse around, Kyle led off; Lissa and Martha on Sammy's heels, the men following about thirty feet back.  Perturbed by Mull's behavior, Kyle headed for a different trail that would allow the women to ride beside him where he could keep an eye on them.  He didn't really expect Mull to do anything, but he wasn't going to take any chances, either.  The guy had a real attitude problem.  He hoped that was all it was.  Gun picked his way through the trees carefully, occasionally attempting to brush his rider off by passing too close to the trunks.  His mind on the problem with the men, Kyle cursed silently when his left knee collided painfully with a tree.  He snapped the reins against Gun's neck, accompanied by a verbal reprimand.  Gun shook his head and half-reared, expressing his opinion.  Laughing, Kyle nudged him in the ribs.  Lissa and Martha looked at each other and shook their heads, glad that their horses were better behaved.

          As they settled onto the new trail, the women moved up to flank him on their own initiative.

          "Will you continue with the guided tour?"  Martha asked.

          "Sure.  Where were we?"

          "The Indians had just been warehoused."

          "Right.  While the Indians were still here, a few mountain men moved in to hunt and trap.  Then gold was discovered at Cherry Creek and the rush was on.  First it was mostly men, then by and by families started coming in and towns got settled.  After the gold petered out, silver was mined for a few years, then that disappeared, too."

          "What about the rest of the state?  They weren't mining the whole thing, were they?"  Lissa asked.

          "Nope.  The east part of the state has always been primarily ranches and farms, the western part produces fruit.  The southwest corner is fairly dry and mostly canyon lands; that's where Mesa Verde is.  Right along the western border, it's dry canyons, too.

Here in the center, more or less, there are ranches and of course, the ski resorts.  The Colorado River  the one that runs through the Grand Canyon- starts here in northern Colorado at Grand Lake.  Up here in the high country, the growing season is pretty short, but we still manage to produce enough hay and other feed for the winter."

          "How much snow do you get?"

          "In an average year up here, around 10 to 12 feet."

          "Twelve feet of snow?"  Lissa's jaw dropped.

          "Sometimes more.  One year, the year I was fifteen, as a matter of fact, we had fifteen and a half feet officially."  Kyle grinned at her.

          "That's way too much snow for me."  Lissa shuddered.

          "Shucks, that means I can't ask you to marry me after all."  He said soberly.

          Looking at the expression on Lissa's face, Martha burst into laughter, startling Daisy, who tossed her head and shied away from the others.  Controlling her without effort, Martha brought her back into line and leaned forward to look across Kyle.

          "Close your mouth, niece, before you swallow a fly."  She advised.

          "What do you do when you're not catching flies?"  Kyle asked Lissa.

          "I'm an EMT."

          "A what?"

          "Emergency Medical Technician?  Paramedic?"

          "That I know.  Where at?"

          "Texas."

          "You came all the way from Texas to ride a horse?"

          "Not exactly." Lissa laughed.  "I came to Colorado to visit my aunt."

          "Ah.  Auntie M?  What do you do?"

          "I'm a legal assistant.  Very boring, actually.  This is a lot more interesting.  How far will we go?"

          "Today or all together?"

          "Both, I guess."

          "Today, we'll cover probably 35 miles or so.  Thirty five in, thirty five out, makes approximately seventy miles."

          "What time will we stop tonight?"

          "Depends on weather, where we are, and what condition you folks are in."

Twisting in the saddle, Kyle looked back at the three men, who were riding side by side about thirty feet behind.

"You guys okay?"  He called back.

"Yeah."  Mull answered.

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The sun was low in the sky when Kyle led the way into a pleasant, grass-lined coulee with a small stream crossing the far end.  He pulled up and looked around at the group.          

"This is it, folks.  Your hotel for the night.  We'll spend the night here and head back in the morning."

"Why are we stopping so early?"  Mull demanded.  "There's still plenty of daylight left."

"We're stopping for several reasons, Mr. Mull.  One, there isn't plenty of daylight left.  Once the sun gets beyond the knob up there, it gets dark pretty quick up here.  Two, this is the best place to camp in the area, and three, because I said so."  Kyle said evenly.

"You were supposed to take us to the Myriad Peaks."  Mull complained.

"You are in the Myries, Mr. Mull.  Did you have a specific place in mind that you wanted to go?"  Kyle hooked a leg around the saddle horn, slouching in the saddle while he studied the man.

"Yes. No.  Where is Nomad's Roost?"

"Up there."  Kyle gestured toward the peaks towering over them.  "It's quite a ways up and not easy to get to.  We aren't going up that far."

"That's where we want to go."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Mull.  We aren't going."  Kyle said flatly.

"Why?  Because you allowed those women to come?  I paid you good money and I expect you to do what you were paid for."  Mull's voice rose in anger.

"Take it easy."  Kyle told him.  "The women have nothing to do with it.  When you called, you just asked for a ride to the Myriad Peaks.  You didn't specify an area.  This early in the year, it's too dangerous to go up that high.  You could get caught in a sudden snow storm, or a rock slide.  The Roost probably still has snow on it and you couldn't see anything but snow and rocks, anyway.  Come back in a couple months and I'll be happy to take you but this is as far as we're going this trip.  Why don't you get down and stretch while I set up camp?"

"I insist that you take us to Nomad's Roost."  Mull demanded angrily.

"No."  Kyle said firmly.  "We are staying here tonight, and going home in the morning.  If you want to come back in a couple months, I'll only charge you half rates."

Swinging down, Kyle walked over to Ghost and lifted Lissa from the saddle, then did the same with Martha.  Ignoring the men, he unloaded Sammy and proceeded to set up the camp.  After starting a fire in a ring of stones, he laid out the bedrolls, three on one side of the fire and three on the other.  Gathering the reins of Sammy, Ghost, Daisy, and Gun, he strode over to the three the men had finally dismounted from and led all seven down to the stream where he unsaddled and picketed them within reach of the stream.  Lissa and Martha joined him, lending a hand as he brushed them down.  Leaving the women to finish up the last horse, he returned to the fire and started preparing dinner.

Mull, Anders and Jameson stood close together near the trees, talking quietly while occasionally glancing over at Kyle, who paid them no attention.

"Kyle?"  Lissa came up behind him and touched him lightly on the shoulder.

"Yeah?"  He replied without looking up.

"Is there enough time, and is it okay if Aunt Martha and I take a walk?"

"You have about half an hour.  Don't go too far.  If you get lost, stay put and holler.  I'll find you."

"We won't go far, and I promise we won't get lost."

"Uh-huh.  I've heard that before."  He grunted.

"Not from me, you haven't."

"Right.  Go ahead and have your walk."

<> <> <>

He watched out of the corner of his eye as the two women disappeared into the trees, then turned his attention to the biscuits he was making.  Jameson strolled over and perched on a nearby log.

"So, what is this place that Mart wants to go to so bad?"

"He didn't tell you?"

"No.  Just that it's up in the Myriad Peaks area."

"Supposedly, some of the old outlaws in the area used it for a rendezvous.  Legend has it one of 'em buried some gold up there and got killed before he could retrieve it.  Folks have been looking for it for years, but nobody's found nothin' up there. Just rocks."

"Where is it?  On the top of the mountain?"

"Nah.  About three quarters up that peak with the scoop on the right side."

"It's late April and there's still snow up there?"

"Yeah.  Some years there's snow up there till the new snows come."

"If it's so high up, hard to get to, and cold, why did the outlaws use it?  Why not somewhere easier to get to?"

"If it was easy to get to, the law could get there just as easily.  'Sides, back then people were used to harder living than we are these days."  He shrugged.

Kyle put the biscuits on the fire to bake and stood up, stretching.  He froze when he felt something hard pressing into his back.

"We're going up there to Nomad's Roost.  You saddle up the horses, fella.  Any funny stuff and I'll blow you away.  You got it?"  Mull growled from behind him.

"Yeah.  I got it."

Kyle strode over to the horses and quickly saddled Dunny, Apple, and Storm.

"You're coming with us."

"You can't leave the women here alone!"  He protested.

"I can and will.  Saddle your horse."

"Mart, if we make him come with us, what's to say he won't lead us in circles?  You got a map, what do you need him for?"  Anders asked.

"You're right."

Reversing the pistol he held, he slugged Kyle over the head, quickly stepping out of the way of the falling body.

"Is he dead?"

"Who cares?  Get on those horses.  We'll take all of them with us.  Let the broads walk home if they can."

When Jameson mounted, Mull handed him the reins for Ghost and Sammy; Anders got Daisy and Gun.  Mull climbed into the saddle and they rode away, leaving Kyle sprawled face down beside the stream.

<> <> <>

          Lissa led the way into the coulee, stopping so quickly that Martha nearly ran over her.

          "Hey!"  Martha protested.  "What's up?"

          "Everyone's gone."  Lissa gestured around them.

          "Gone?  Gone where?  Why?"

          "Beats me.  I was with you, remember?"

          "Are the horses gone, too?"

          Glancing toward the stream, Lissa gasped and broke into a run, leaving Martha staring after her. 

"Aunt Martha!  Hurry!"  Lissa called,  crouching beside something on the ground.

Martha ran to join her, stopping with a hand to her mouth.

"Kyle!  Is he alive?"  She whispered in horror.

"Yes.  Get me some water, will you?"

Running back to the fire, Martha grabbed the first thing she found, which proved to be a cup, ran back to the stream, filled it and brought it to Lissa. 

"At least they left the saddles.  Aunt Martha, find my first-aid kit; it's in my saddlebag."

"Which one is yours?"

"I don't know, you'll have to look for it."

Martha pounced on the saddles, dumping the contents of the saddlebags onto the ground until she finally found what she was looking for.  Lissa opened the kit and sorted through the contents till she found the antiseptic wipes and a bandage.  She cleaned and bandaged the gash on the back of his head, then with help from Martha, turned him onto his back and cradled him in her arms.

"What on earth happened here?"  Martha sank to the ground beside her.

"I have no idea, Aunt Martha.  Hopefully, Kyle can tell us when he wakes up."

Kyle woke slowly to find a herd of horses stampeding inside his head.  He lifted a hand to his head, startled when someone grabbed his arm, stopping him.

          "Lay still, Kyle."  A woman's voice said softly.

          Wondering who she was, where he was and what the hell happened, he opened his eyes, barely able to make out a shadowy figure above him.

          "What the hell?"  He mumbled, trying to sit up.

          "Kyle, it's Lissa.  Do you remember me?"

          "Yeah.  You're the one who won't marry me because of snow."  He said irritably.

          "You were hit on the head and unconscious.  Take it easy."  She told him, trying to stifle a giggle.

          "Yeah, I can feel it.  Where is that bastard?"

          "Who?"

          "Mull and friends."

          "They're gone.  So are the horses."