Beneath the Tombstone (The Tombstone Series) (31 page)

About
that time, Tyler snorted and jerked… then he started mumbling. Guess he was
awake. Jason rolled over a little closer, listening intently.

“I’ll
shoot you!” the big cowboy screamed as he began flailing about in the sleeping
bag that was wrapped around him.

Jason
rolled to the other side of the tent, sleeping bag and all, trying to avoid
being caught as an innocent bystander in the battle between Tyler, the demon in
his dream and his sleeping bag. “Tyler, Tyler, easy man. It’s me. It’s me…
Jason,” he spoke, trying to bring the big cowboy out of his dream and into the
present. “Wake up. Tyler, wake up,” he said getting louder.

Finally,
Tyler sat up with a gasp. His eyes were big, shining in the small amount of
moonlight that filtered through the canvas tent. After sitting for a moment, he
crawled out of his sleeping bag and on out the tent without a word. A moment
later, Jason stuck his head out and watched the tall cowboy disappear into the
night.

Rye
stuck his head out of the other tent and spoke in a quiet and sober voice, “I
forgot to tell you that snoring
ain’t
the only noise
he makes at night… sometimes he does that, too.” With that, he disappeared back
inside the tent.

Jason
soon returned to his sleeping bag but not to sleep. His heart had been too
jumpstarted by the commotion to allow for that any time soon.

It
seemed like hours later when Tyler returned. Without a word, he returned to his
sleeping bag, got in and lay there, staring up at the top of the tent.

“You
okay?” Jason asked after several moments of silence.

“Yep,”
Tyler replied flatly as he rolled over, turning his back to Jason. There was
nothing left to do but assume that meant the conversation was over.

- - - - - -

Hints
of the morning sun was just beginning to show on the eastern horizon when Jason
stuck his head out of the tent, having been drawn from his sleep by sounds
outside. Irwin and Rye were busy tending the fire, trying to cox it back to
life from the few coals that had survived the night. Tyler stood outlined by
the sunrise, his dark silhouette making a sweeping motion as he swung a saddle
up on one of the cow-horses. Jason quickly ducked his head back inside, threw
on his clothes and pulled on his boots before hurrying from the tent.

“Why
didn’t you wake me up?” Jason asked as he approached the tall horseman.

Tyler
glanced up from his task of cinching up one of the horses. “Figured I’d let you
sleep in a bit,” he responded quietly before returning to his task. “Was the
least I could do after
keepin
’ you up half the night.”

“Aw,
that’s okay,” Jason said then paused for a moment. “You have nightmares a lot?”
he asked.

“Every
once in a while,” Tyler responded.

Several
moments of silence passed before Jason reached over and absent-mindedly gave
the horse a gentle rub. “You said sometimes dreams mean things. Do your dreams
mean anything?”

“Yep,”
Tyler replied soberly. “They mean the past is still present.”

Jason
desperately wanted to pry for more information, but Tyler cut that hope off
short. “Smells like breakfast is
cookin
’,” the tall
cowboy said, giving the horse a pat on the rump before heading off in the
direction of the fire which had been coxed back to life.

Jason
followed him over, and the two cowboys sat down by the fire and watched as Rye
and Irwin cooked. Soon, the smell of bacon and coffee began to grace the cool
morning air with its delightful presence. Irwin pulled some biscuits from a
sack and put them in the bacon pan to warm and moisten in the hot grease. After
a few minutes, Rye announced that breakfast was ready and so the four cowboys
began pouring coffee and piling bacon and biscuits in a heap on their plates.
After they’d all eaten, the men broke camp, stepped up into their saddles and
rode off into the sunrise.

They
gathered the herd into the corral, and the day went much like the one before.
The only thing different was that half way through the morning, Rye trotted
over to where Jason was getting up after holding the back half of a yearling
down.

The
young horseman swung down. “Let’s trade,” he said, handing the reins to Jason.

Jason
smiled as he swung up on the horse and trotted over to hold herd for Irwin. The
elder cowboy roped and dragged a kicking, bawling calf over to where Rye and
Tyler waited on the ground. As soon as the two cowboys pulled his rope free,
Irwin loped over and swapped places with Jason who then trotted his horse over
to the branding fire, leapt off and grabbed the hot iron. He watched its
dancing fiery color as he walked over to the restrained yearling.

“You’re
gonna
wanna
push that iron
into his side firmly,” Rye explained from his position on the ground. “Let it
slip and the
brand’ll
blur.”

Jason
pressed the branding iron into the calf’s side, just like he’d seen Rye do
hundreds of times since yesterday morning. Gray smoke curled up into the air
and the smell of burning hair filled his nostrils as the restrained yearling
sounded out in a low bellowing protest.

“That
ought’a
do it,” Tyler said with a satisfied nod when
Jason raised the iron. “I don’t see any nubs so let’s vaccinate this critter
and let ‘
em
up.”

Jason
quickly drew the correct amount of medicine into the syringes and handed them
to Tyler who administered them into a section of the calf’s neck. Jason jogged
over to the horse, leapt up into the saddle and loped over, just as Irwin was
dragging another unwilling volunteer to be branded.

It
was sometime around noon when Irwin called out, “Last one,” as he came trotting
from the herd, towing a yearling by its heels. It seemed that, much like
yesterday, Irwin had saved the biggest for last. Jason waited until the eldest
cowboy switched places with him before spurring his horse into action.

A
short time later, after lifting the branding iron from the critters side, as
smoke drifted around his face, Jason smiled and said, “And there is the final
stamp of approval,” copying Rye’s words for such an occasion from the previous
day.

Tyler
administered the shots as Jason buried the branding iron in the sand to cool –
and then it was time to set the last
calf
of the
branding free… or so Jason thought. From their positions on the ground, Rye and
Tyler looked up at him with sly smiles on their faces. Irwin rode over on his
horse and looked down at Jason with an expression much like the other two.

“What
is it?” Jason asked, beginning to feel uneasy.

“We
have a tradition,” Tyler said, still smiling. “For a man to ever truly overcome
his status as a greenhorn and put it behind him forever,” the big cowboy paused
for dramatic effect, “he has to ride the last
calf
of
the branding.”

Jason
looked up at Irwin whose sly grin had grown considerably. Somehow Jason got the
feeling that the last
calf
of the branding also being
the biggest calf of the branding was not by accident. It appeared that Irwin,
knowing the tradition, had saved the biggest and the best for last.

Jason
took his hat off and scratched his head. “Well, I don’t
wanna
be a greenhorn forever,” he spoke thoughtfully. “Guess I don’t have a choice.”

“Alright!”
Tyler hollered loudly. “All you
gotta
do is stand
over ‘
em
and when he comes up center yourself on top,
dig your spurs in and hang on!” Jason stepped one leg across the downed calf
and stood there nervously. “You got this?” Tyler demanded.

“Um,
I think so,” Jason replied but, truth be known, he had no idea.

“Come
on Jason!” the tall cowboy yelled. “Do this! Give it all you got! If you go
down then go down swinging, and if you go out, go out with your boots on!”
Jason began to feel himself let go, if only for a moment, of the thoughts that
constantly weighted him down. He was starting to feel a little pumped.

“Ladies
and gentlemen,” Tyler boomed out in an announcer-like voice, “in chute number
four we have Jason Hathaway coming all the way up here, to the middle of
nowhere, from Pueblo Colorado to ride Last Calf. Give ‘
em
a hand folks.”

Irwin
clapped and hollered. Rye let lose a wild Indian yell and released the calf’s
leg with one hand to slap his chaps in his best attempt at one handed clapping.
Jason removed his hat and nodded around the empty arena as if he was being
applauded by hundreds of adoring fans. And then a smile came across his lips.

He
put his hat back on, pulling it low. Glancing down at Tyler he nodded. The
large animal was released, and it rose up beneath him, thrusting him up off the
ground… And the fight was on. Jason hung on for dear life, flopping back and
forth as the frightened, angry critter did it best to shake him loose.

Tyler
was yelling out the seconds. “Five… six… seven… time!” Jason let go and rolled
off the back as the calf bucked high in the air sending its ex-rider flying in
a backwards flip. Jason landed in a dusty heap as the terrified yearling raced
back to the herd.

Jason
leapt to his feet, stuck both arms in the air and gave a victorious shout… and
the crowd went wild. Tyler, Rye and Irwin all laughed and hollered at the excitement
the show had offered. Tyler trotted over to Jason’s horse, gathered its reins
and led it over to Jason.

“Good
ride, cowboy,” Tyler said with a smile. “Good ride.”

Susan
had supper ready when they got back to the ranch, and after the three cowboys
put up the horses, they went in to eat. After the meal, the men retired to the
living room as Susan washed dishes. When Jason returned to the kitchen and
refilled his glass of sweet tea, she stopped him as he headed back.

“When
you introduced Tyler and me, you said something about having to do whatever he
tells you to do – didn’t you?” she asked.

“Yep,”
Jason smiled. “It has been rather painful.”

“That’s
very interesting,” Susan said with a thoughtful look as though she’d just
gained some valuable information before turning back to her task of washing
dishes. Jason stood silent for a moment, wondering what that was all about,
then gave a little shrug before returning to the living room.

Tyler
was in the process of telling a wide eyed Ken about the events that had
transpired over the past two days when Jason walked in. He seated himself next
to the boy and listened in. Sometime later, the tall cowboy got to the part
about Jason ridding the wild calf. “And your uncle, he sure put on some kind of
ride,” Tyler said with a smile before glancing up at the doorway leading into
the kitchen where Susan had stuck her head in to listen. “Yep, rode ‘
em
every bit of eight seconds,” Tyler added, giving Ken a
nod. “Look out P.B.R.; here Jason comes.”

Susan
laughed and the men turned and looked at her.

“I
didn’t mean to disturb your story,” she spoke kindly to Tyler, “but when you
get a chance, could I speak with you in the kitchen?”

“Sure,”
Tyler said, rising from his seat.

Moments
after the two disappeared, Ken turned his attention to Rye. “So does that make
Uncle Jason a real cowboy?” the boy asked excitedly.

“I
reckon it does,” Rye replied with a laugh.

“My
Uncle Jason’s a real cowboy,” Ken beamed. “Wait ‘til I tell Rebecca.”

“Is
that you little friend’s name?” Rye asked.

“Yep,”
the boy replied in a matter of fact way. Rye laughed and they all feel into
comfortable conversation about horses and cows… and a certain little girl on
Ken’s part.

After
a while, Tyler and Susan returned. Susan wore a happy smile, and the others
went silent as the two sat down and looked at everybody.

“I’ve
got an announcement,” Tyler said, and the suspense caused Jason to hold his
breath. “We’re going down to Pueblo for church on Sunday.”

Jason
exhaled sharply. He hadn’t known exactly what to expect, but that had not been
it. He gave Susan a smug smile. She had gotten to the tall horseman. “
Y’all
have fun,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ll stay here
and hold the fort down.”

“The
fort can hold itself down for a while,” Tyler stated. “When I said
we’re
going to church, I meant all of us.” Jason looked at Susan, who was now
returning the smug smile he’d given her a moment before.

“I’m
not going,” he said bluntly, acting like an ornery old horse refusing to do
what it had been bidden.

“You
ain’t
quittin
’ on me, are you?”
Tyler asked in surprise.

“No,”
Jason responded, returning the surprised tone.

“Then
you are still to do as I say,” Tyler said with a smile. “And I say you’re going
to church.”

Jason
looked at Susan, and the look on her face brought her whole evil scheme into
the awareness of his mind. That little shyster! She put Tyler up to this! He
gave a frustrated sigh and shook his head. “This is so wrong,” he said.