Ride to Redemption (14 page)

“You
like?” asked Mile, when she caught my drooling man stare.

“I
do very much. You are very beautiful Mile, and you’re taken.”

“You
take me,” instructed Mile, seemingly excited by my lust filled gaze.

“No,
not ever, you are Giovanna’s girl. Candi is my girl. Let’s go,” I demanded,
realizing this was not the place to be, alone with a beautiful young filly with
horny wild beasts and illusive camel toes on my mind.

“Look,
Mile, mule deer!” pointing to a doe and fawn on top of the closest rise.

“Bambino,”
Mile exclaimed, thankfully focusing her new found excitement on them, no longer
on me.

We
returned to a still quiet cabin and both Gio and Mile were asleep in their
respective beds. Why would I even think otherwise, they’re cousins, suddenly
remembering an attractive fourth or was it a fifth cousin I had no problem
acquainting myself with.

Woo-hoo
strikes again, again, and again and it’s only 6:30. It’s bound to be a very
long day.

“Wake
up, wake up everyone,” I shouted, beating a large wooden spoon to a ancient
aluminum kettle. “Wakey-wakey it’s time to get the show on the road. We’re
going horseback riding in an hour.”

Thankfully,
Chico has an espresso bar, where I managed to snag two coffees and two black
teas on the trek back. The Italians took the coffees, the Americans the teas.
Thinking back, there has to be something wrong with this picture.

“What
do I wear on my first horseback ride, D?” Candi asked, thoroughly excited.

“Chaps
and a red thong works for me.”

“Works,”
I heard Gio exclaim from the other room.

“You’re
not right, D. Just what goes with a horse?”

“Dress
to ride, baby; jeans and thong, less the chaps. You’ll be fine.”

Making
our way to the stables, the girls were extremely giddy, Gio much quieter than
usual. The horses were saddled and ready to go. Our trail guide, Michael,
announced novice riders to the front, experienced riders to the back.

“Candi,
Mile you’re first, Gio and I will bring up the rear.” After a few minutes of
instruction about the do’s and don’ts of horseback riding, we were off.

“D,”
Gio began, “I make you mad last night. In my country, if you can trust a man
with your wife, you can trust a man with your life. I tell you something quiet;
Candi and I are, how you say,
famiglia
.”

“Family,”
I replied.

“Yes,
we are family. Her momma and papa,
mia zia e lo zio
.

“Your
aunt and uncle?” I guessed, knowing the story already, and Gio nodded yes.

“They
ask me to watch her about you. They say you Texan. I like Texas.”

“I
understand, I think,” while my mind struggled with Texas, my former home.

“You
are, how you say, good people, D. I tell them A-okay. You not take Mile. You
get mad when I ask. I trust you be good for Candi.”

“Thank
you, Gio. And you came from Milan just to check on her? “

“We
come to Sioux City, not Memphis. Was going to see Elvis, then Sturgis. They
la
mia famiglia
.”

“Family
first, Gio, I understand. So we’re good?”

“We’re
good, D, we’re good,” Gio replied, as if somewhat relieved.

Arriving
at a small lake at the mouth of the canyon, I was surprised to see breakfast
was ready. Joining Candi, I asked if she enjoyed her first ride. “

“Very
much, D, I could get into this.”

“That’s
great, baby. When we get back to Tennessee, I’ll book us an overnight horseback
trip through the Big South Fork.”

“Where
is that, D, somewhere close to home?”

“An
hour’s drive from Dale Hollow. It’s 120,000 acres of wilderness where you can
ride to your heart’s content.”

“What
were Gio and you talking about the whole way up here? “

“Believe
it or not, he was confessing that he wanted to see if he could tempt me with
Mile. He said something like if I could be trusted with his girl, he could
trust me with his life. I guess I passed. “

“I’m
glad you did too, D. Now, maybe he’ll leave us alone and more importantly, Mile
will leave you alone.”

“We
will find out soon enough, especially when we get to Bozeman.”

On
the ride back to Chico, at a slow and steady gait, I rode beside Candi to see
the joy in her face from the saddle. As beautiful as the mountains were that
surrounded us, they could not compare to the happiness, radiating from Candi as
she relished her first horseback ride. I couldn’t help but think,
Moments
like these are priceless, forever etched in our minds.

Chapter
20

P
acked
up and riding north on U.S. Hwy 89, we followed the Yellowstone River all the
way to Livingston, MT. This working ranch town I fondly once called home has
always reminded me it's the epicenter of the West. It’s small enough to say
you’ve gone to town and big enough to stay for the day. Pulling in to the North
Pacific Cafe, beside the old train depot, I assumed everyone was ready for a
break. “We can eat lunch here, we can walk around town, or we can ride on to
Bozeman. It’s your call.” I learned, within a few seconds, Mile and Candi were
hungry, while Gio was just thirsty.

“Let’s
eat here,” announced Candi.

“This
place brings back many fond memories. I’ve had many a great breakfast here over
the years.” With everyone now looking at me attentively, I continued. “I had
family here for the longest time, before they followed me to Texas.”

“
Sì,
”
said Gio, “you are from Texas.”

“I
was from here first, and then Texas,” I confessed,” now I’m from Tennessee.”

“Really,
D?” exclaimed Candi. “Where did you live, when did you leave, why did you
leave?” Question after question continued to roll out of Candi’s mouth.

“I
left Texas soon after the financial crash of 08, with nothing but ashes, having
lost everything I spent 20 plus years creating. When you’re forced into
financial ruin, everyone for the most part abandons you. It’s like you’ve
contracted some sort of fatal disease and no one wants anything more to do with
you. I learned the hard way that many of my “so called” friends were only
friends, because of what I could do for them. And I did lots. Sadly, our
society has turned to an instant rewards mentality, as in ‘I cannot remember
what you have done for me in the past, what I want to know before I help you is
what can you do for me now?’ Had it not been for a few special people who
continued to believe in me, I would not be here right now. I was humbled,
broken, beat up, chewed and spit out by the very best. Circumstances far beyond
my control, affected me, along with many others. Greed would best be described
as the ultimate culprit. That’s more than enough about me, let’s eat,” trying
to move quickly beyond the demons rearing their ugly heads from my oh, so
sordid past.

Candi
reached out and gave me a hug, while whispering in my ear that she too believed
in me. Gio got up and patted me on the shoulder. Mile, well, Mile did what Mile
does, she just looked at me longingly and smiled.

With
lunch behind us, Gio and I talked about Bozeman, MT and where he was bound for
after that. Would he go south to Jackson Hole or ride northwest to Glacier?
Little was determined and nothing was finalized, except the fact it was getting
late and I wanted to make it to the hotel before 5 p.m. I had picked out a new
B&B for Candi, and hoped to approve or disprove it, before all the other
good ones were taken.

Since
I had clothes to pick up and packages to drop off in the morning, we all agreed
to meet up tomorrow for lunch and confirm our destinations. Heading east on
I-90, I realized this is the first time we had been on an interstate during our
ride. Thankfully, it was just a 30-minute journey. With no cameras rolling and
no crazy highway antics from Gio, Candi and I arrived at our B&B by 4:30,
while the Italians rode past us, into the sunset and who knows where.

* * *

“This
will do, baby,” announced Candi, as we checked into the River Lodge. “It’s just
you and me tonight. We are alone at last. The first thing I want to do is jump
in the shower with you and wrestle you into submission before dinner.”

“I’m
all for that, baby. Especially after my afternoon of true confessions, I’m
ready for a comforting hug with the whole ‘benefit’ package thrown in.”

Our
room was nicely apportioned, offering us a plush king size bed and more
importantly, a two person shower. Dropping our clothes immediately to the
floor, Candi and I soaped, lathered, scrubbed and rubbed each other just enough
to warrant a quick exit from the shower to the bed.

We
kissed passionately, while groping and touching and feeling every inch of our
bodies. Dropping my guard earlier, somehow allowed me to experience Candi in a
way that I had not shared with her before. She was making love to me, in spite
of my failures, in spite of my past; she was very absorbed in me. And I was
totally absorbed in her, trying to outdo one another using her LTO techniques.
Changing positions, Candi climbed on top of me and presented her beautiful,
warm silky breasts to my lips as one, while she pressed me deep inside her,
rocking rhythmically to the spa channel on Sirrus radio, playing through the
TV.

“I
wish this would last for hours,” I whispered, as I pressed my lips to hers. Our
tongues were continuously exploring, darting, enveloping one another’s, while
my hands pulled and pushed her harder and deeper into me. With a subdued
whimper, I knew she was on the verge, whereby I exited and gently rolled her
over, bringing her to a shuttering conclusion with my LTO technique.

“Your
turn, baby,” Candi said softly. Digging her nails into my back, Candi
nonverbally told me she had reached the next level. Just as an enormous wave of
pleasure swept across her body, I released what seemed like an eternity of
anxiety. Totally spent, neither one of us surreally daring the other to move,
we remained entwined, wrapped in each other’s arms until the sun faded from the
sky.

Rising
at five, with my morning walk well underway, I found the wherewithal to turn on
the phone and check messages. There were seven total voice mails, five of which
were work related, while the other two were from Vic, thanking me repeatedly
for believing in her enough to help her establish her own practice.

Moving
on to my emails, I discovered a plethora of them from the powers that be,
wanting to know why I hadn’t checked in; and one specifically from a Victoria
R. Lawson, Attorney at Law. Stopping my walk long enough to read her email, I
concluded, she was truly as gifted and talented as I had hoped.

Dear
D,

Thank
you again for the umpteenth time for the shiny baubles that have allowed me to
fulfill my dreams, albeit 4 years later than I had hoped. You’re the best and I
don’t know how I will ever repay you. However, based on what I’ve come to
realize over the last few days, your repayment may come in the form of my
representation, sooner, rather than later.

Just
for kicks and giggles, I Googled anonymous packages of cut diamonds in paper
wrappings, knowing that somewhere I had read about this ongoing mystery that
has taken the country by storm. Would you believe the same message that I found
in my package is the same exact message that others have received across the
U.S.? Is that a freaky coincidence or what, D? My guess is that you are behind
these gifts, with the whole world wanting to know where or how you amassed this
treasure and specifically how you have been picking and choosing who is worthy
of these instant millionaire presents.

Secondly,
since you are the only person to rebuff my intentions, while being in a near
state of nakedness, as well as the fact, we now have client attorney
privileges, I believe when the time comes and it will come, you will have to
totally confide in me. Furthermore, I’m sure there is an honest to goodness
method to your madness and that in itself, intrigues me. You don’t look
anything like Robin Hood, but if there comes a time where I have to mount a
defense for you, we could consider that as a viable option.

Just
to give you a heads up, what also concerns me is the fact that the IRS may have
a significant interest in this case, regardless of whether you obtained these
shiny baubles legally or not. We can escape many things, but with the current
state of our economy, I doubt unpaid tax liability will be overlooked.

Changing
the subject, how goes it with you and your fantasy girl? Remember, I’m here if
you need me, however you want me. By rule, an attorney should never sleep with
their clients, but since I was left lacking, before my practice began, I will
gladly make an exception for you.

Hugs and kisses,

Vic

Interesting letter,
I mused. Vic brought
up something with the IRS that had never crossed my mind. Regardless of whether
I obtained these baubles, as she called them, legally or not, there is a
potential tax liability that may come back to bite me. Oh well, let them come.
The federal government and its system has already tarred and feathered me once
through the courts, after which they graciously put me in witness protection
for my contribution for the good of society, as they called it. Reminds me of
the story where the woman finds herself in a most precarious predicament,
whereby, since her date rape is all but inevitable, her date says, “she might
as well find a way to enjoy it.” Funny it is not. You are still the unfortunate
victim, regardless of whether you manipulated your mind to somehow survive it.
Guess as it is with anything distasteful, it all depends how you look at it; to
insure you survive it to fight another day, you have to first get through it.

Seems
like I've been doing most of my life here lately.

Best
I do send the barrister a quick and cordial reply.

Vic,

Your
concerns are noted. My admiration for you continues to grow in leaps and
bounds, regardless of whether your clothes are on or off. It’s still the red
hair that gets me every time.

We
are nearing the home stretch in our gift giving. Soon it will be behind me and
we will just have to deal with the consequences, if, and when they come
barreling down on us.

I
am thankful I mistook you for a high priced call girl every day. Each time I
think our first encounter and my immediate impression of you, it brings a smile
to my lips…Yep and a stretching to my jeans. LOL

I
am confident you have and will continue to use your past experiences, generated
by the expert usage of your Woo-hoo to realize your wildest dreams.

XOXO

D

P.S. My fantasy girl for the moment is still a
fantasy. In the present she is now my # 1, while in my mind you continue to be
my # 2.