The Hat

by: Dennis R. Humphreys

Uncle Alfred Turner was the brother of my mother who is now deceased. Both of my parents are deceased. I'm only thirty but they had me when they were older and the combination of aging, world tribulations and most likely raising me, contributed to their deaths a few years ago. I was a hell raiser. I felt abandoned over the years not having family in the area and never finding that right woman to settle down with, I decided there was nothing keeping me in the area, so I went westward to join my uncle who was also not married by choice. The stories my mother told me about him when I was younger may have provided the role model for me inabstentia because he was the biggest hell raiser of them all. He was a cowboy complete with his own six-hundred and forty acre ranch, bought at government auction after the BLM decided to sell off parcels. He raised cattle and a few pigs.

I had never been to Montana before...the only thing I knew about it was what I read in books when I was a kid inspired by the Uncle Al stories I listened to with extreme interest as my mother told me at bedtime. It is the secret desire of every boy to either run away to the circus or become a cowboy contrary to what some politicians might tell you these days about them wanting to become girls. Circuses are fast becoming a thing of the past but cowboying is still going on out in the rural areas. I would go to bed at night and imagine myself on a big black steed dressed in a duster and boots wearing a large black cowboy hat, stopped at the top of a knoll, looking down at the grazing steer. The image was me as a kid stretched out bigger to be the adult cowboy I imagined.

My mother knew her stories about Uncle Al stirred my imagination, so she told me a lot of them. I think they were embellished somewhat to feed my desire for excitement.

“Garth I hope you get to meet your uncle again someday. He's a very interesting man and he's a natural storyteller. He'll have a lot more to tell you than I do,” she told me time and time again.

I called Uncle Al and asked him if he could use help on the ranch with undetermined length of stay from his nephew. He was ecstatic and asked me how long it would for me to get out there.

I told him I was going to take a bus with a couple of connection stops along the way. I wanted to see the country even though it would be mostly highway...however, it looked like, by my itinerary, that I would be there in nine days.

The first leg of the trip I sat next to a middle-aged woman, who could only speak Spanish and either the perfume she was wearing was the worst smelling stuff ever or she hadn't taken a bath in weeks. The bus was full so I was stuck with my seat. She was sitting by the window when I boarded so I couldn't rectify anything with a little fresh air. I saw others around us sniffing the air and making faces, so I believe others were being offended on the trip. Of course I hoped they didn't think it was me. She pulled food out of a large bag she carried, wrapping various ingredients in burrito tortillas, constantly eating her accomplishments. Food and sauce dripped down her chin ending up on her ample bosoms and between them. She spoke loudly to herself constantly in Spanish ignoring me constantly as if I weren't there. I breathed a clean air sigh of relief when I changed buses to continue my trip westward while she changed to take one north.

This was left half full and the seat next to me was empty. Finally, I could kick back and relax. Then twenty minutes into the trip the little boy behind me started pushing the back of my seat as hard as he could with both legs. He'd push...he'd let go, causing me to lung forward every few seconds. His mother sat there ignoring him. She certainly didn't pay attention to what he was doing and was oblivious to someone sitting in the seat in front of him. I wasn't invisible, she knew I was there. After enduring this for a while thinking the kid would get tired exercising his legs continuously for twenty minutes, I finally turned around and said something.

“Young man, someone is sitting in the seat you are kicking. Kindly stop it,” I told him bnluntly but nicely. He immediately looked at his mother who out down the magazine she was reading and looked at me.

“How dare you tell my son what to do. Garth don't listen to this man. He just wants to control you and make you do what he says,” she told her son agitated.

“Yeah tell him that when he's being a pain in the ass to someone but make him listen to what some teacher tells him to do when they don't follow their own advice,” I told her. “Boy have some consideration of other people and stop.”

I turned back around and thought I'd close my eyes for a while when the little demon started again but only after I heard his mother give him the OK.

“Don't listen to that mean man honey. You do whatever you want,” she told him putting her blessing on the demon child.

I tolerated his pushing and shoving for a few more minutes and it was clear he was purposely increasing his behavior to annoy me and get a blessing from his demon mother.

“I asked you nicely to stop what you were doing. I won't be nice the next time,” I told the boy, but his mother merely looked at me and told me where to get off. I turned back around and waited, Soon the brat pushed with all his might and while his legs were extended, I shoved back with all my might, quickly.

The boy began crying because I hurt his legs. Of course, I was smiling having taught the demon child a lesson, but his mother was on the warpath. She got into the aisle and headed for the driver telling her one sided view. He stopped the bus and walked back to me followed by the woman smiling,

“Sir, I understand you hurt this boy's legs pushing back on your seat,” the driver accused me.

“Only after I endured the kid pushing constantly back and forth with his legs. If he wasn't doing that when I pushed back he, wouldn't have been hurt. I said something twice, but his idiot mother told him it was alright to be annoying,” I told him.

“Then I suggest that you change seats,” the driver suggested.

“Why am I the one who has to change seats? I wasn't the one being annoying. Have them change seats and bother someone else. Besides I like where I'm sitting,” I told him not believing his attitude.

He looked at me a moment and then he said.

“Alright then but one more outburst from you like you did, I don't care where we are I will stop the bus and make you get off,” he warned me.

“Then I will pull the stop cord up there every time he starts up again to let you know,” I warned him.

“Suit yourself,” he told me and then walked back to his seat.

The bus took off and I noticed him watching me in his mirror. Soon the demon child started agina. I let it go for a few minutes. I know he could see my body rocking back and forth from the kid's actions. He had to be smart enough to realize I wasn't autistic. Finally, I reached up and pulled the cord. The bus stopped and the driver walked back.

“What's the problem sir?” he asked me.

“What do you mean, 'what's the problem'? I saw you watching in your mirror. You saw what was going on,” I answered.

“I know you're being annoying,” the driver told me.

“Listen I didn't pay for bus fare to put up with some whore's 'should have been aborted child' to bother me the entire trip.

“Sir, may I remind you to watch how you talk in front of an impressionable child,” he warned me.

“Exactly, this impressionable child was told it was OK to do what he was doing by his mother...if it is his mother. Has anyone checked? The kid may be an illegal immigrant she's transporting for the drug cartel,” I countered.

“Mam, would you mind moving to another seat with your child?” he finally asked the woman figuring I was positioning myself as a stone wall.

“You're listening to this man?” she countered.

“Mam, I did observe your son annoying this man in my mirror. The man did nothing to warrant it and you didn't correct your child,” the bus driver told her, finally growing a pair of balls.

“I will write the CEO of this bus company and report this,” she said annoyed as she got up and led her demon son to another seat. The driver just looked at me and shook his head. Now I had no one with me in my seat and no one behind me to annoy me. I wasn't sure about taking a stand. I thought I might be late getting to my uncle's ranch having to walk most of the way.

By the time we pulled into our next stop, I was rested. I had planned a five- day layover just to see some of the country and take some pictures. I got a short ride from the bus station into the Best Western in town. The place saw better days and looked like it served travelers well over the years. It suited me fine. First thing I did was submerge myself into a tub of hot water and fell asleep. I awoke to the setting sun and was hungry so I walked across the street to the dinner which appeared to have been built the same era as the motel.

“I hon, what can I get you?” the forty some waitress asked me after I had taken a seat at the counter there.

She looked like she worked her whole life there, since she was of working age. Her hair was long but was tied back in a bun. She wore glasses and her skin appeared to have taken its toll by excessive exposure to the sun and elements. She had a single birthmark on her left cheek that was fairly large, and you attention was immediately draw to it. I found myself staring at it as I gave her my order. There was a scar too but that ran down her neck from her ear. Still, she was attractive, it just looked like she lived an early intense life.

I sat there and drank tons of their coffee which was excellent. Places like these always seem to have the best coffee and really good food...lots of it. I ordered one of my favorite breakfasts which was sausage gravy over biscuits. These were buttermilk and huge, mad fresh. So was the gravy and it was incredible. The place wasn't busy just then, so I took my time drinking more coffee and the waitress came by and kept me company. Jennifer was her name, and she could talk up a storm on a lot of subjects. I was surprised. She must have read a lot.

“So, are you in town long?” Bonnie asked me, according to her badge she wore, as she watched me finishing my fifth cup of coffee figuring I was probably going to get up and go sometime soon.

“Here for five days. Just doing some photography and exploring before I finish my trip to Montana. I'm moving out there with my uncle. He has a large ranch I'll be working with him.

“You staying over at the Best Western?” she asked.

“You know me and you seem to have a lot in common. Maybe we could continue this conversation later when I get off work around four?” she suggested.

I looked at her and found her attractive other than the aged skin and that birthmark, but certain things can be overlooked at times like this. I didn't ask her anything else, sometimes questions turn people off and my rising interest of being in bed with her made me disregard asking any.

“That sounds like a good idea,” I told her rising to leave and paying my bill. “We can discuss quantum physics and the direction of the universe.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Bonnie laughed, “it sounds like something that keep us occupied for a while.”

“Room 236. I'll be waiting,” I told her and left.

I found a place that rented trail bikes so I got one to tour the area. I thought it appropriate with the terrain and I was in that exploration mode, wanting to take some pics that weren't run of the mill. There were saddle bags on the bike so I put my camera and a few things in the one side and I stopped and bought a few bottles of water for the other. That would do me all day until I got back to shower and clean up by four when Bonnie visited. I was looking forward to that. Yeah, she was older but she was in great shape, better than most women my age.

I enjoyed my day on the trail bike. I took lots of pictures because the countryside was unblemished for the most part by man once you got out of the town. The area was picturesque with rolling hills, some qualifying as small mountains, I guess. I saw coyotes out there and sage hens. There were quail too and lots of different birds I had never seen. The day went fast and thought I'd better head back. I was a little hungry and wondered if Bonnie might want to get something a little later. As for now I headed back to the BW.

I cleaned up in a shower tub combination that was probably original for the place. I loved it because it wasn't one of those new units more for show than use because of its size. I actually fit into the thing comfortably. I'm a bath person so I needed a tub I wasn't claustrophobic in. The newer constructs are fine if you only stand and use the shower. Even then it was difficult turning around in the shower without your shoulders rubbing against the wall and the shower door.

I had just gotten dried off and dressed, combing my hair when I saw a shadow pass my curtained window and then there was a slight knock at the door. I opened it and there stood Bonnie, looking even better than I remembered. She had changed from her uniform into a tight pair of jeans and a light white blouse she had tied above her flat stomach. I could tell she freshened her make up and the look in her eyes turned me on...she was a woman on a mission.

She didn't say a thing, nor did I, not having the chance, as she pushed me back into the room and slammed the door shut. When she turned on me again it was to shove me onto the bed, and she flung herself on top of me.

“I was thinking about this all day. I even went into the bathroom a few times and had to play with myself,” she enlightened me. “I think I made things worse.”

Somehow, I blinked and we were both naked in that bed. I didn't even remember taking anything off. All that I know is that the next two hours would have put an Olympic champion to rest. We laid there exhausted. I was getting hungrier still and suggested we get something to eat.

“It'll have to be take-out and you'll have to go get it,” she told me, “this is a small town and I don't want to be seen with another man besides my husband.”

“You're married?” not a question I thought to ask.

“Yup, for twenty years. Frank's a truck driver and is gone all week on the road. He'll be back Friday when you leave. I don't need someone mentioning they saw me during the week with another man. Frank's the jealous type and even if nothin' was going on, he'd raise a fit,”

I hadn't planned on jumping in the sack with a married woman. I wanted no complications, but then I'd be gone in a few days. Maybe this would work. Besides after the marathon we just had I was already looking for the next contest. She saw the look on my face, and I guess, wondered if I had regrets.

“Are you OK, hon?” she asked me as she slid her head below my waist. I think she was trying to second guess me and make me forget any concerns I had before I voiced them.

“I'm fine, and getting better all the time,” I told her as we went into another marathon.

It was eight by the time I ran across the street and ordered a couple of take out diners.

“Kitchen closes in half an hour. You made it here just in time,” the waitress on duty there told me.

Soon I was crossing the street again with the food. Bonnie and I ate on the bed and we were done we showered together. Soon we were back in bed doing our thing. What husband? I knew nothing and cared even less.

Bonnie finally left at eleven to go home. She was working the next day and didn't want anyone seeing her come from the hotel in the morning. However, she promised to stop by again around four for a rematch and I was open to it.

In fact one day was a repetition of the previous until Friday. Her husband normally rolled into town around seven, the time my bus was supposed to leave. I'd be at my destination sometime late morning the next day. Bonnie still planned on coming to my hotel room for a couple of hours to give me a good send off, which I was fine with although I thought it might be cutting things close.

The few things I had were packed and I was ready to go when there was a knock at the door. Bonnie was there looking good and possessed. She must have been planning something special for my final fling with her. Sure enough, the next two hours were something I never before experienced.

Just to play it safe I wanted to leave the hotel at six and head over to the bus stop to get my bus. I told her she could stay in the room and get cleaned up before going home.

I left her sitting on her legs in the middle of the bed, just wearing an unbuttoned shirt. She looked good as I turned from the door for one last look. There was a complete look of surprise when I opened the door, but I had to turn to see why. It was her husband standing there, not happy. He swung at me and the impact sent me staggering back towards the bed, which I fell into flat on my back. Bonnie started yelling and the brute came at me again loaded for bear. He grabbed me by my legs and pulled me out of the bed, landing on the floor and hitting my head on the sideboard. Bonnie straddled me and stood over me in an attempt to stop her husband. I suddenly realized I had a view, looking up, that most me would die for and it actually caught my attention momentarily until I regained my senses to realize my situation. This guy was hell bent on ripping off my appendages

“Now Frank. Stop it! Don't act surprised. You're never here and I know for a fact you enjoy the company of some of those lot lizards while you're on the road. This man's leavin' now and isn't coming back so stop your shit,” she commanded

“How do you know about me and any women on the road?” he asked.

“I didn't, I just guessed knowing how you are, but you just confirmed it. How'd you know to come over here to find me?” Bonnie asked her husband.

“Jan, over at the diner saw you comin' and goin' here a few times and she called me. I came home a little earlier today to catch you,” he told her as he began calming down.

“Well that meddlesome bitch. Just wait until I see her. She's been wantin' to get into your pants for some time now. I guess she figured she'd stir up some trouble to get there.”

Frank pulled out the chair in the room that was with the desk there and sat down. He looked at me less aggressively now and I figured it was time to leave.

“Garth, honey, it was nice knowing you. Good luck on your trip and stay out of trouble,” Bonnie told me as she kissed me on the cheek and pushed me to the open door.

I got out of there quickly before her husband thought better and came after me. I went directly to the stop where the bus was was to pick me up. It was already there. I placed my belongings on the sidewalk by the luggage storage area of the bus for the driver to load and he told me I could come sit on the bus which I did. I felt better not being in the open.

Promptly at seven the bus left. I breathed a sigh of relief. There was no irate husband chasing the bus or cars coming up alongside as we went, waving shotguns and revolvers out the window, trying to sideswipe the bus. I've seen it in movies where a car will run a bus off the road so it must be so.

I slept most of the way. The bus was going to pull into my last stop somewhere around six in the morning. Uncle Al was going to be there to pick me up aand the bus was on time.

I stepped down from the bus five minutes late. Pretty good timing for a bus. I looked around at the mountains. The scene was breathtaking. The town was a wild western design with modern materials. Obviously, the original structures were underneath but modern, maintenance free material replaced what needed replacing. I was one of two that disembarked here, the other being an older woman. A young cowboy approached me.

“Are you Garth Hennessy...Al Turner's nephew?” he asked pushing his cowboy hat back on his head.

“Yes, I am. Where's my Uncle Al?” I asked him.

“I have some bad news. There was an accident a few days ago and your Uncle was killed. We wanted to contact you but we didn't have your cell phone number and couldn't find it,” the young man said. “I'm really sorry. I'm Scott Wheeler, foreman of the Circle T. The funeral's tomorrow so I guess it's bad timing.”

“I was blown away. I just talked to him a little over a week ago. I couldn't believe it. How did it happen...you said it was an accident?” I asked. “Something happen on the ranch?”

“Well, no. Not exactly. He was messin' with Audrey Brubaker in town when her husband came home unexpectedly. He jumped out the window to avoid a confrontation, but he forgot her bedroom was on the second floor...broke his neck,” Scott told me.

“Dear God! Who's this Audrey Brubaker?” I asked him.

“She's this really fine lookin' twenty-eight-year-old woman. Been married for six years to Cornell Brubaker. He works down at the stockyard getting' the cattle ready to ship out by rail,” he explained.

“Good Lord, my uncle was in his sixties,” I exclaimed, picturing a man shuffling up to a window and having to lift each leg to the sill to jump out.

“Your uncle,” Scott began chuckling, “was a character and a ladies' man and age didn't seem to matter.”

“I was planning on staying out here for a while and helping him with the place. I guess I might as well head backafter the funeral now,” I mentioned to him.

“Well now, you might just want to hold on there. You're the last living relative he has and he's left everything to you. Bryan Ryan is the attorney handing everything, so you'll be hearing from him,” Scott told me.

“Bryan Ryan...at least that's easy to remember,” I replied.

I figured I'd stay then for a while since I was going to anyway. At least I had a place to stay. I figured if I eventually left to go back east if this wasn't my thing I'd hold on to the ranch and let everyone running it now continue. If it could sustain itself, it might be a good investment for me. Hopefully Uncle Al didn't have too much debt, but I know how these farms and ranches were out here and wasn't about to hold my breath.

I settled into the main house at the ranch. It was definitely Western but it was bigger than I expected, especially for one man living alone. The bunkhouse was out back where Scott and three others stayed. It was hooked up to solar panels out here and a system that was self-sustaining. The view from the front of the house was awesome. The entire house was a large log home of western cedar with the inside cut flat like you were inside of a cedar chest. It looked and smelled great. There was a huge fireplace of large river rock and bookshelves on either side that housed a huge amount of books. I knew my uncle was an incessant reader.

I slept well and awoke to a breakfast bell from the porch of the bunkhouse. About that time there was a knock at the back door while I was milling around looking for the coffee.

“Good morning, Scott,” I said.

“Mornin' Garth. I meant to tell you, your uncle always ate breakfast with us in the bunkhouse, so you don't have to make anything. That bell means to come and get it,” he told me.

“Super, I'm coming along then,” I told him and followed him across the back yard.

It was a good group of guys. There was Tennyson, Wiley, and Burke. We ate a hearty breakfast of country ham, gravy, biscuits and of course every cowboy's required coffee.

“I know it's kind of fast askin' you this, but we were all wonderin' what you're plannin' on doin' with the ranch now,” Scott asked over his coffee.

“Fair question. I have to talk to the lawyer first and see what debts there might be. I don't want any surprises,” I told him.

“Your uncle didn't owe anyone anything. He had plenty of money. Some years ago he found gold on the ranch, so it's been more than self--0 sustaining,” Scott informed me...something I didn't know, and I don't think mother ever knew.

“If that'd the case I'll probably stay out here awhile and learn about ranching but since you guys have been basically running the place, I don't see any reason to change anything. We can just let things continue like my uncle is still here,” I told them. You could see relief in their faces. I guess they thought they'd all be out of a job and the ranch would end up in the hands of some back east developer. I wouldn't let that happen. Now if there were a lot of debt that would have been a different story. I'd know more after talking with this Bryan Ryan. Why would parents do that to their kid?

The funeral was simple and there in the front in the coffin, lay my dead uncle...my mother's brother. Mom told me he had always wanted to be a cowboy since he was little, like me, and took off at eighteen to fulfill his dream. There were about thirty people there which surprised me in a town this size. Bryan Ryan came up and introduced himself to me. He asked me if I could come by later in the day to discuss things and I agreed. I noticed one really pretty young thing bawling her eyes out in the back of the church and asked Scott who it was.

“That's Audrey Brubaker,” he informed me. I thought it might be her carrying on like she was. She was a real looker. I couldn't see my uncle almost forty years older and her together. He must have meant something special to her watching her fuss so.

A modified station wagon took my uncle to the top of the hill in the back of town where the graveyard was. The ranch hands and myself, labored the casket to the grave site where the minister said prayers. I watched Audrey Brubaker still carrying on. In the light, she was even prettier. The ceremony lasted about twenty minutes and after, there was food for everyone that my crew now had made and had taken to the local hall at the fire department where mny uncles was still a volunteer. Others had made dishes too and brought them.

We all stood and nibbled at the hall, reminiscing about Uncle Al. Suddenly there was Audrey Brubaker standing in front of me sniffling. When I acknowledged her, she threw her arms around me and balled.

“Al was such a wonderful person and so well...gifted,” she told me sobbing into my shoulder. “I'm going to miss him so much.”

“Gifted? Was she implying what I thought she was? I knew nothing about that side of my uncle, nor had I heard any implication from my mother. I realized Audrey was pulling me closer against her than I normally expected under the circumstances, especially with someone I just met but then grief does strange things to people. Then I thought about that movie 'Wedding Crashers', so I ignored it. Maybe she was checking to see if certain similarities ran in the family.

Later, I stopped at Bryan Ryan's law office to see him.

“Your uncle left you everything as the last surviving family member with no stipulations. You can do what you want,” he announced. “The ranch is paid for and carries no debt. In fact, it's self-sustaining. Plus he discovered a nice gold deposit on the property a number of years ago and he mnines at as he needs money. He has a paid life insurance policy of a million dollars and two million dollars in assets. You're doing pretty good here. Oh, and he left you his favorite hat. There's a gold hat band around it inscribed with some Latin stuff, I have not idea what it means. He's left you a note to go with it. It's sealed here with wax so I don't know what it says because I've never read it.

With that he handed me the hat and the letter. There were other papers he handed me too. Some I signed and gave back to him; others were for me to take. I felt odd he hadn't left anything to anyone else like the ranch hands and this Audrey Brubaker who must have meant something to him. I figured there was plenty he left me so I'd make sure the ranch hands were thought of and I wanted to do something for the woman, she was so despondent, but I didn't want to look crass.

There was a key to a safety deposit box I wanted to check out. Bryan Ryan had no idea what was in it but I thought I'd run by after leaving his office to see.

“Ah, Mr. Hennessy, Al Turner's nephew...I've been expecting you. I want to offer you, my condolences. Al was a great guy,” he told me shaking my hand profusely. Let's go downstairs where the safe and the safety deposit boxes are,” he told me and so I followed him down the stairs. Others in the bank were watching me intently so I wondered how many of these other women were familiar with my gifted uncle.

Mr. Tansy, the bank manager, got the deposit box, it was a large one and brought it into a room, placing it ona table for me.

“If you need anything else, let me know. If you're taking anything out of the box you may need a briefcase, but I can scrounge one up for you,” the man told me.

“Thanks, I appreciate your help,” I told him as he left, pulling the door closed behind him.

I opened the box and was shocked. First there were a set of old revolvers in their holsters inside. According to the note they had belonged to Jesse James...a piece of expensive antiquity. There were two blocks of paper money...a lot. There were also four bars of gold I hadn't even imagined being in there. There was also a bag of gold coins dating back to the 1870s. There was a lot of money there. Then there was a bundle of stocks all, blue chip stuff. I certainly didn't have to work anymore. I took out five thousand in cash for each of the cowboys figuring that would help them and belay any concerns they had about me being a carpet bagger from back east. I also pulled out ten grand for the woman figuring it would be a nice gesture.

When it was time and I was finished, I called for Mr. Tansy and told him I didf need just a small case of some kind, but I would be continuing to maintain the safety deposit box there.

“Thank you, Mr. Tansy. You'll be seeing more of me around here since I'll be staying awhile,” I told him.

“That's great. We look forward to doing business with you.,” he told me and shook my hand as we walked to the front door.

“Oh one more thing, do you know where this Audry Brubaker lives?” I asked. I decided to go over there immediately since it was early afternoon. I didn't want to go there later when her husband might be there and stir things.

“Number sixteen, Paxton Street...it's six blocks down this way,” he pointed,” turn right and go one mile.”

I headed to my uncle's old pickup that carried me to the funeral and took off to Audrey Brubaker's home. It was a nice little wood sided place with a back yard that opened to an expanse of foothills, behind which were mountains.

I went to the front door and knocked. Quickly the door opened and Audry Brubaker stood there red eyed and with a red nose. She obviously had been crying.

“Hi, Mrs. Brubaker. Is this a good time?” I asked looking past her and around indicating I didn't want to talk to her if her husband was there.

“Oh Mr. Hennessy,” she said slamming against me and throwing her arms around my neck. “I already miss Al so much.”

I guessed the timing was fine and her husband wasn't there. Then I found out why.

“My husband left me. He found out I was messin' around with Al after four years. He's a little slow. So he just upped and left. We're here alone so we can talk if you want to.” she told me as she brought me inside and closed the door.

“Well, I came by, and I knew how much you two meant to each other. I wanted to make sure you were taken care of since this whole thng was so sudden,” I explained.

“Did Al tell you I meant something to him?” she asked a glint appearing in her eyes.

“In so many words...yes. And I see he meant a lot to you,” I told her.

“You'll never know how much,” she told me with a slight smile, but I didn't want to go there. Some things are better left unsaid.

“Anyway, I brought a little something for you,” I carified and handed her the envelope with the money.

She took it and opened it.

“You're so sweet but you don't have to do this. Your uncle has taken care of me quite well already/ I think he had a premonition of something happening like this. He had been trying for two years to get me to leave my husband because the son of a bitch was abusive. Three months ago, he bought me my own place north of the city on three acres. It would have been a lot closer to his ranch. I can move there now. He even furnished it completely for me, the sweetheart. I have enough money put away and without a monthly mortgage or rent, I'll be doing just fine,” she enlightened me.

Still, I thought she might need the money for unforeseen expenses, and I insisted she take it.

“You're just as thoughtful as he was. I really appreciate this. Would you want to stay for diner? I'm a good cook...that's what Al always told me,”she offered.

“No thanks. Maybe another time. I'll be staying awhile but I have to head back to the ranch and take care of a few things,” I told her.

I stood to go and she body slammed me again and hugged me unusually tight. I wondered if there was something more going on here in her mind but shook it off and left. As I got into the truck I looked back as she stood in the doorway, leaning provocatively against the door frame. At least it looked provocative to me. Maybe that was just my imagination.

When I got back to the ranch, I sat in the truck awhile. I had forgotten abojut the note the lawyer gave me and opened it. I had laid it on his favorite hat he let me. The hat band was a customised thing and looked custom made from twenty-four carat gold. The writing on it was peculiar. It was in old Latin. I'd have to Google a translation later when I got to a computer.

Opening the letter, I read out loud to myself in the truck.

“Dear Garth,

I know we haven't been close over the years with me out here. I did head back three different times when you were little, but you probably don't remember them except perhaps my last visit when you were nine. I want you to have this hat. It has served me well over the years. When I was much younger, I met a medicine man of the Shoshone Indians. He made this special hat band for me from the first gold I found on my property. He wrote a Latin inscription on it but it carries a curse that anyone who places this hat on their head must tell the truth. If they lie the hat gets tighter and cannot be removed. If they continue it gets tighter and tighter until they tell the truth, then it can be taken off. The Indians had been lied to so much over the years by the white man he felt it a worthwhile curse. I didn't mind wearing it and found it always kept me truthful. There were a few times it got a little snug, but I felt it was a worthwhile curse as well.

You've been well taken care of with the other things I've left behind. Inside the hat folded in the hat band is a map to where the gold is on the property. I have never disclosed it to anyone. The Indians went there once in awhile for generations to mine it which is why the medicine man I met knew of it. I let the tribe still go there as they need money and I hope you will honor that same arrangement.

Lovingly,

Uncle Al

'Damn, what I life,' I told myself before leaving the truck. I went into the house and grabbed four envelopes in which I placed five thousand dollars each for the ranch hands. They weren't in thr bunkhouse yet but figured they'd be shortly since the end of the day was coming and it would soon be dinner time.

An hour or so later I heard the sound of the two four-wheel drive Broncos pull up to the bunk house, so I went out to see the men in the bunk house. When I walked in the door, they all looked at me expecting, I think, bad news.

“Hi guys. My uncle left some things in case something like this happened to him and I cleared thing up at the lawyers and the bank. Al left a little something for you guys as a token,” I told them handing each an envelope.

Each opened theirs and were ecstatic. I think they were moreso since it wasn't bad news.

“Also, I'm staying. I hope you guys don't mind. I don't want to get in the way, but I want to learn as much as I can about cowboyin' if you're willing to teach me.

The response was unanimously positive as they got up and gathered around me shaking my hand.

I went back to the house and tried on Uncle Al's hat. I didn't feel any different, but I thought I looked pretty good in it. More cowboyish than I had imagined. I sat in the old recliner and reread the note wondering if this curse really worked. I tried lying to myself, but nothing seemed to happen. I wondered how I might use it if it did.

After my first week I realized I had learned a lot on the ranch about cowboying. The guys taught m,e a lot and I found them to be a great bunch to work with. I learned a lot just by watching. The days went fast but at the end of the day you were tired. There was always something to do. Part of the acreage was too rocky and steep even for a four-wheel drive vehicle. The horses had to be broken out. I wasn't much of a horseman although I had ridden a few times. The first was at a carnival when I was five and I was led by a cowgirl around a thirty-foot circle, twice. The horse was hard to handle. Come to think of it, it was a pony. My second experience was when I was nine and I went to summer camp at a working ranch near where I lived. We rode horses, and in the mornings rode them out to meet up with a chuck wagon where our breakfasts were cooked over an open fire and eaten around it, just like the old days on a cattle drive.

The third and last time I rode was when I was seventeen. My girlfriend rode incessantly and her uncle owned a farm where he rented part of the facilities to someone with horses that gave riding lessons. Laura was the one who taught me how to ride and for the six months we dated we rode together at least twice a week. I got pretty good but that was some time ago. She moved away when her father was relocated, and we promised to write each other twice a week until we could get together again. That lasted about three months before we both found someone else and stopped writing. I suppose those times are only a memory now, not thought of until a connection like riding horses is made.

At the end of the week, I was tired. I wanted to keep up with the others, but it was hard to. They pretty much worked six days a week and some on Sundays. There was always something to do especially when there were animals. Friday came and I wondered what Audrey was doing. She was the only woman I knew in town and I wanted to go out, not with guys, I'd been with them all week...someone softer. I looked up her number and called. I got her voice mail so I left a message. Within minutes she called back.

“Hey there, I was hoping you'd call,” Audrey purred in a captivating, sensual tone that would have stirred the beast in a priest.

“I've been working hard all week and I need to let off some steam. I was hoping you might be interested in joining me for dinner,” I asked.

“That's a terrible thing to be hard all week while you're workin'. How the heck can you concentrate?” she asked me jokingly. It took me a few seconds to realize what she was getting at.

“Aren't you the comedian. Wherever you want to go...how about it?” I asked.

“Pick me up in an hour and I'll show you where I like to go,” Audrey told me.

I got there at seven sharp and she let me in giving me a big kiss and hug.

“Wow, I like what you've done with the place,” I told her. She had started packing boxes to move out. Her husband told her he wasn't paying the mortgage anymore and would rather default.

“I'm moving into the place Al bought me. Let my husband default on the mortgage if he wants. It's in his name anyway. He can screw up his credit if he wants, it's no skin off my teeth,” she told me.

We went to a place she liked called the Pony Pub and Steakhouse. It was like a step back in time to the 1950s. It had knotty pine walls and checkerboard tablecloths. The bar was polished oak with lots of brass and spitoons. There was a large mirror behind the bar. I was enthralled with the look.

“This place has been in continuous operation since 1885.” she told me.

“ Talk about ambiance! I hope they never change anything,” I shared my opinion.

The dinner was incredible but simple and there was plenty of it. It was the best steak I think I ever had, and it was huge. The baked potato was incredible, and the salad was so crisp and fresh you thought you were eating directly in the garden. There were these pepper cheese things too they served with the meal along with incredible fresh baked rolls yloj would die for. It demonstrated something I always espoused. It doesn't have to be an outlandish meal just make sure it's simple, fresh and well prepared. This was.

There was a small dance floor, and a few people were dancing there to the jute box. It was all country and Audrey challenged me to the floor.

“I don't dance really, especially country,” I warned her, not really wanting to show off my clumsiness.

“Look, if you know how to polka just do it slower,” she told me dragging me to the floor. I realized I wasn't going to get away from a dance, so I finally relented, plus people start looking at you like you're a doofuss when a good-looking woman has to force you into dancing with her.

After two country dances, at least a slow one came up. You might not be able to dance a lick but slow dancing everyone looks good and no one pays close attention. We got close and Audrey laid her head on my shoulder. Again, she seemed to make it a point to press hard against me making little provocative moves. I found myself getting excited. Then I thought, 'this was my uncle's girlfriend' and I seemed to calm down a bit. When I did though, she seemed to make the right moves again. I figured she was doing this on purpose after a few times. Hell, I just met her at my uncle's funeral and this was our first date. Was I being a little whimpy? Knowing how my uncle was now he probably would have given me a slap on the back. I wish I had gotten to know him better.

“Did I tell you, you look good in Al's hat,” Audrey told me during our second slow dance in a row.

“I appreciate it. I think I can pass as a cowboy in it,” I told her.

“I'd let you rope me,” she told me jokingly, but I let it go and didn't respond.

We got back to our table and ordered desert...blueberry pie with vanilla ice cream. The pie was baked fresh, and the ice cream was home made. I thought I died and went to heaven. Audrey must have read my face.

“I told you the food was good here,” she told me.

“No, you told me this was your favorite place to eat,” I corrected her.

“Same thing,” she told me.

We left the place at around eleven after several more drinks and dancing. I swore I got to be a better dancer the more I drank. I wondered if that worked with riding horses as well. I opened the door for Audrey. She was a bit tipsy and laughing more then she needed to. When I got into the driver's side and went to put the key into the ignition, she turned my head and kissed me deeply. When I returned the kiss she pushed her hand between my legs. I found myself returning the favor pushing my hand between her legs and up her short skirt. Her breathing immediately went into labored panting that pumped my adrenaline. My limbic system seemed to be taking me over.

Within minutes the truck windows were steamed, shutting off visibility to the outside.

“I think we need to take this elsewhere. People will see the windows and know something hot is going on inside. We don't need one of the local cops bothering us,” Audrey told me and I agreed.

“You want to go to the ranch?” I asked.

“No that's too far. You'll never make it there with me in the condition I'm in,” Audrey warned me. ”Let's go to mine. It's five minutes away.”

I only thought the waitress I met and spent a few days of debauchery with at my last bus stop was incredible, but this woman made her look inept. No wonder my uncle was involved with her. At twol in the morning we were resting getting our second wind. Audrey was getting there before me. She got up and turned on the stereo. She looked through and open box of CDs looking for something particular by the way she was searching. Finally she looked pleased having found what she was looking for and put he CD into the tray. It was Jimmy Cochran's song accompanied by a sex sax rendition called 'You Can Put Your Hat On'. It was danced by Kim Bassinger wearing only a man's shirt when then put the guy's hat on and danced sexily in the doorway of the kitchen.

Audrey went to the doorway of the bedroom and put Uncle Al's cowboy hat on and proceeded to dance with it on but leaving the shirt off. All I can say is 'wow'!

When she came back to the bed, she still was wearing the hat. I remarked that was sexier than Kim Bassinger's rendition and that was burned in my brain for years.

We sat the awhile talking and my thoughts went to my uncle. This was the same room and the same bed he rendezvoused with her on a regular basis for four years. How the hell, he wasn't senile, and it wasn't his first time, did be make the mistake of jumping out of the second-floor window the day he died. It suddenly didn't seem right lying here in this bed. So I asked.

“One thing bothers me...they say Uncle Al forgot he was on the second-floor when he jumped out of the window here to get away from your husband. How'd that happen? He was a lot sharper than that,” I told her.

“I don't know I guess he just forgot in the heat of the moment,” she said wincing a little. “This hat is getting tight.”

“Take it off,” I responded not realizing what was happening.

“I can't it's on too tight,” she complained. “How the hell...it was way too big when I put it on.”

It was then that 'ah-ha' moment happened and I remembered Uncle Al's letter to me. I decided to take advantage of it and explore the direction more.

“Did Uncle Al jump out of the window?” I asked her pointedly.

“Well, yes,” she said as she was trying to pull the hat off still without being able. “What the fuck's going on? It's getting tighter. It's hurting. Garth, help me for God's sake.”

“What happened that night?” I asked about as direct as I could.

“My husband came home, and Al jumped out the window so he wouldn't be caught with me here in bed...oh my, God. I can't stand it. It feels like my head is going to split. Garth,” she pleaded and began crying as the pain became excruciating, “do something.”

I began feeling sorry for her a victim of a curse but then I thought it was more of one brought on by her since she was the one lying. So, I explained to her what was happening.

“This hat as it was explained to me in a letter from Uncle Al was cursed by and Indian medicine man. Whoever wears it must tell the truth. Once they begin lying the nhat gets tighter and can't be taken off...and it gets tighter and tighter. The only way to loosen it is to tell the truth and then it can be removed,” I told her but she either didn't believe me or somehow thought she could outwit the curse.

She ran downstairs to the kitchen. I followed her there, where she grabbed a knife and began an attempt to cut the hat off her head. I didn't want to see the hat ruined but then I realized the knife did nothing to the hat. The hat remained intact. I watched as she frantically made the attempt. It was almost comical and became funnier to me knowing my uncle died another way that had been withheld.

“Garth...help me. It feels like my head's going to implode,” she cried tortuously.

“I can't do anything. It's up to you. I told you the truth will loosen the hat,” I repeated to her as she appeared she was going to collapse. Her forehead was swelling and changing colors. It was like a medieval torture device concocted to make a person confess to being a witch.

“Alright, Cornell, was the one that threw Al out the window” she confessed. You could tell immediately she had some relief as the hat became looser.

“Why did you lie about it?” I asked.

“Cornell threatened to kill me if told anyone what happened,” she explained but immediately the hat became tighter again as the pained look in her face returned.

“Keep going. Remember it'll get worse than this if you lie,” I warned her.

“Alright, alright...Al wouldn't tell him what he wanted to know,” she told me, and some relief was gained.

“What did he want to know?” I asked her probably knowing the answer.

“Where the gold is,” she answered feeling even more relief this time. The pained look was disappearing from her face.

“How did he find out about the gold?” I asked her.

“I don't know. There were rumors” she told me. The hat didn't tighten so she didn't know.

“Were you working with your husband to try and get Al's gold?” I asked getting right to the point now.

“I had no idea,” she said but before even the last word left her lips her pain was back and she began clawing at the hat in agony. “Alright...we've been trying to find out where that fucking gold is for four years. Cornellti set the whole thing up for me to screw the old fart's brains out and get the gold.

The hat released its hold on Audrey's head now that the whole story was known. She took it off exhausted from the ordeal. I looked at the hat with respect and in awe that the medicine man's curse was real. I also assumed that I was the next target since they couldn't get the secret from Al and I was left everything, that I would know the location of the gold. Seducing me was just another step to the gold.

“I feel different about you...” she began.

“Don't...don't give me your bullshit,” I told her.

“It isn't bullshit. I feel something for you. We can be together and turn my husband in for murder,” she suggested a little too strongly.

“Then you won't mind putting the hat back on and I'll ask a few more questions,” I told her picking up the hat and moving towards her. She moved away.

“You're not putting that fucking thing on me,” she warned.

“Then I guess we don't have anything else to talk about...do you have anything else to add?” I asked sarcastically.

Audrey shook her head 'no' as she looked down, avoiding my stare. I dressed to leave and nothing else was said. I wasn't sure what my next step was because I knew the moment I stepped out the door she would make a call to her husband. Now that I knew the truth he would come after me to either silence me forever or try and get the location of the gold out of me first. I figured on the later, as a last-ditch effort for the wealth.

I left her house and went to the truck. I looked back at her bedroom window. I could see her clearly with the light on. Sure enough, she had her phone to her ear. At four in the morning, there weren't too many people she would be calling. I wondered when he would make his appearance.

At the bunk house breakfast, I explained to the men what had transpired the night before and what Audrey Brubaker was all about trying to swindle my uncle along with her husband.

“I'll be...that whore! I'd like to tar and feather her,” Scott wished.

“Problem is, Cornell Brubaker is going to be on his way here, probably today to try and do something about me. I'm not sure what to do about him. I'd like to see about getting them both served the justice they deserve,” I told them not sure about a plan.

“Guys,” Scott began, ”let's put our heads together and try to think of how we can help Garth out here. We need to make sure Al rests easy now too.”

Things were quiet for a while as one full pot of coffee went down, then Wiley spoke up.

“I was thinkin' about doin' somethin' simple,” Wiley began.

“Simple is good, that way there's lesd to go wrong,” I told them. The more complicated something is the more variable's you have with which to deal.

“As long as you don't go into town, he has to come to you to get what he wants. We can handle him on our turf. Once he's here, we rope and hogtie the son of a bitch. We put the hat on him and ask questions. Once he lies and the hat starts to put the squeeze on 'im, we untie 'im, start askin' questions again while we record 'im. He'll be confessin' to us without coercion. Is that the right word?” Wiley outlined.

“It sure is and that's probably the best idea,” I told him. “I have no reason now to go into town anyway.”

“But someone needs to be with you all the time around here as well. The place is too big for you to be out and about alone. He could sneak in and get to you and none of us see you,” Tennyson added.

“He might not try anything even if one person is with me. I think we'll have to set him up. Make him think you all are gone and I'm out here by myself,” I told them. “I imagine he'll be around here watching with binoculars until he sees his chance.”

“I know how we'll do it but we'll wait a couple of days in the hopes he sets up somewhere nearby to watch,” Scott told us all.

We waited three days and then we made out little production. There was no guarantee Cornell Brubaker would even do what we thought he might. If it didn't work, we'd have to plan something else.

“I think I saw somebody millin' around over on that bluff there,” Burke said. “Something shiny caught my eye, like a mirror, or glass. It moved a bit.”

The four made it a point to get into one of the pickups and go into the barn. They loaded several bales of hay in the back and seated two dummies dressed like Burke and Wiley in the bed with hay. Scott and Tennyson were in the cab when they drove out of the barn. I walked out and stopped the truck and talked to the driver. Then I went to the back of the truck and pretended to talk to the two men sitting in the bed a minute. Then the truck drove off and I waved. I went back into the house while the real Burke and Riley waited in the barn.

The sound of a truck became audible after about a half hour. I called Burke on his cell phone just make sure they were aware. They were. They also verify they recognized Cornell Brubaker since I had never seen him. It was perfect for Brubaker to find me alone like this knowing I didn't know him. I wouldn't be suspicious of anything happening. I stayed in the house until he knocked on my door.

“Hi there, can I help you?” I asked Brubaker.

“I was just driving over there in those hills, and I noticed a couple of steers trapped in a sink hole. I figured they might be yours. I didn't have a rope or anything to try and get them out,” he told me.

“Damn, I don't have anyone around right now to help me get them out,” I fabricated.

“Heck mister I'd be happy to help out. It'll only take two with a pickup, trailer hitch and a good rope, “Brubaker offered.

“Well thank you that's neighborly of you. I'm Garth Hennesy,” I told him extending my hand as I came out on the porch and put on my hat with the other one.

“I'm...Tom,” he began the lie when Burke yelled as he and Riley were coming up the walk with a rope.

“You're Cornell Brubaker. How're you doin' there Cornell?” Burke revealed.

Brubaker realized he had been had and took off on a run across the front of the house. Riley took off chasing him making him move across Burke's path where he roped him and then hog tied him like he said he would. I helped him then get the bastard top the porch and sat him down the whole time he's fussing like he was the innocent one. Burke stilled him down a bit more wrapping the rope a couple of times around the back of the rocker we put him in. I went ahead and put the hat on his head and then called Scott and Tennyson who had parked out of sight on the road to town, only minutes away.

“We have our boy. Why don't you head back?” I told them.

I waited until everyone was together before I started to question Brubaker. I figured they'd all like to feel they were a part of serving justice for my uncle.

“So, you're Audrey's husband?” I asked him.

“I ain't sayin' anything while this here hat's on my head,” he replied looking like he was going to be a little hard to break if he refused to say anything.

“Suit yourself...it may get ugly,” Scott told him, but I wasn't sure what his comment meant since he had to say something to lie and make the hat work.

We waited an hour firing questions at Brubaker but he just sat tied there with a challenging grin on his face without sayuing anything. The grin needed to be wiped off his face. I think Scott was feeling the same way when he talked.

“Wiley, why don't you get Sendoff,” Scott suggested.

“You ain't goin' to hurt him now, are you?” Wiley asked concerned.

Now Sendoff was a six-foot sidewinder he kept in the bunk house in a large aquarium. He had it for years but why would anyone keep something like that as a pet? It wasn't like you could take it out and pet it, or let slither around your neck.

“No, I'm not hurtin' him at all. But we'll see what Sendoff has in mind here,” Scott told everyone smiling. Brubaker had a look of concern on his face. Even his body started moving a little odd, sitting in that chair.

Scott had left to go into the house and came back with a long, thin strip of hemp. He threw it over the one rafter in the roof over the porch. Then Wiley came back with Sendoff drapped over his shoulder and holding his head tightly.

“What are you doin?” Wiley asked still concerned about his pet.

“Well, you hold Sendoff while I tie this hemp around his tail. We're going to dangle his head in front of our friend's head here until he starts talkin' or gets bitten one or the other. He'd better stay perfectly still though,” Scott suggested.

Everyone thought it was an interesting idea except Brubaker.

“You fuckin' guys are crazy. I know my rights,” he yelled.

“You have no rights on the Circle T this is, for intents and purposes, an independent nation. I hope you get my drift,” I warned him as wiley held the head of the snakes and Scott began tightening the slack on the flat hemp rope, pulling it away from the rafter to suspend the snake.

“You're a big man and seem pretty healthy. You might stand up to one bite but it's going to be painful in the face. Did you ever see someone take it there? Their face face swells up to the point they can't see and their eyes close shut and their whole face turns purple like one big, huge prune. Problem is that snake will keep generatin' more venom to try and fill its sac as it hangs there, and it'll get madder and madder. He'll just keep bitin'. You'll be really bad off after three or four bites,' Scott described a gruesome scene.

I thought it good timing to ask a direct question before they pulled the snake up and out of Wiley's clutched hand.

“Did you throw my uncle out of your wife's second story window?” I asked the terrified man in the chair.

“No... he dived out the window scared I'd find him in our bedroom,” he said qui8ckly but that's all it took. The hat clamped down on him and began tightening. Y9u could see the surprise in Brubaker's face. It was too late now. He started the process.

I motioned to take the snake down which they did.

“Keep him close in case we need him,” I told the men. “Start rolling the video on your phone. I want all this down.”

“I'm going to ask again and remember the hat tightens up with a lie or if you try to skirt around my question. You sort of committed yourself with your first answer that was a lie,” I warned him.

I guess he figured he'd try things out to make sure because when I again asked him...

“Did you throw my uncle out the window the day he died,” I asked him. Again, he said no, and the hat tightened. Now instead of discomfort there was pain.

“You sure you want that to be your answer? I'll keep asking and if you keep lying, I'm not sure how much a human head can take before it pops. Probably a lot, so there will be a lot of pain between now and then,” I told him.

It didn't take much now to get him to be honest. He tried fudging a little a few times, but the hat reminded him it was there. After a half hour we had what we needed on three different phones. I gave him the option of turning himself in with his lovely wife or go with us when we turned the evidence over to the police. He chose to turn himself in which I assumed meant he and Audrey would make a run for it but that was OK by me and the men. We got them. They wouyld just make things worse for themselves.

“Hey Wiley, would you mind bringing Sendoff into town with me? If got something to attend to. Guys,” I said turning to the others on the porch,”don't let him go just yet. Give me a couple of hours head start.”'

Wiley and I left for town in Al's pick up. I stopped at the bank first to pick up the deed for the house Uncle Al bought Audrey from the safety deposit box. I was happy he held onto it but I needed her to sign off on it and then I could get it to a lawyer.

When we got to Audrey's place, she was looking out the window. When I got out, she came out on the porch.

“Where's Cornell? Where's my husband? What did you to him?” she asked as I grabbed her arm and led her back through the front door.

“There's been a serious accident at my place. He was snake bitten pretty bad by this snake,” I lied to her as Wiley pulled his pet form the burlap sack he carried. Women hate snakes and Audrey was no exception. There was fear in her face considering what I had just told her. Now you're signing the house Uncle Al bought you over to me,” I told her as I put the hat on her head. We have to go into the notary.

“I want the ten thousand back too that I gave you. Where's it at?” I asked her.

“It isn't here. I put it in the bank,” but then as soon as she answered there was a look of discomfort on her face as the hat took hold.

“That was a friendly reminder. You know what happens next,” I told her but didn't have to ask twice.

“It's in that box over there marked, 'knickknacks'. I went and retrieved it.

Audrey was scaed stiff between the hat on her head and the snake. She was no trouble signing over the deed in front of the notary. I paid the notary out of the money I retrieved from Audrey on purpose to add insult to injury. Afterwards we dropped her back off at the house and went to the police station turning over her husband's confession leaving the rest up to them.

Sure enough, when Cornell was let go, he high tailed it back to his wife and they skipped town, leaving everything behind. Last I heard there was APB on them, but they must have been smarter than they looked keeping pretty well hidden. I imagine Audrey was pretty miffed with me lying to her about Cornell being snake bit but I'm sure she was relieved when she saw him come to the door unscathed. After all, he was such a caring husband.

It was an experience. I enjoyed my time out west but, in the end, decided it was too damn exciting. I liked the people and the company bug I decided to move on. I kept the contents of Uncle Al's safety deposit box which was more then enough to sustain me until my dying days but I turned the ranch over, all 3200 acres to Scott and the others. Ranching wasn't for me, it was a nice diversion but they knew how to operate a place like this and figured they'd have their own place to hang their hats, and maybe eventually find wives. I did make a provision and I visited the reservation to make sure they understood as well, that they had an open door to mine for gold whenever they needed it. I suggested they turn over ten percent of what they took to Scott and the rest for an emergency bank account so I could help them out in case they needed it while keeping the exact location of the mine a secret without the need to know.

Everyone seemed happy with the arrangement, and I felt I had made a few good decisions making everyone happy in the process.

“Well guys it was a pleasure to know you all but I'm going to hit the road. The wind seems to be calling me,” I told Scott and the others as I opened the door of Al's old pick up.”

“We're goin' to miss you Garth. If you ever need a place to stay you've always got one here. We hope you come back to visit from time to time,” Scott told me shaking my hand and giving me a hug opening the door for the same from the others.

I climbed into that truck and headed down the drive. As always, a big cloud of dust trailed the vehicle making the scene of the ranch hands unclear just as the memory over time became. I smiled and shook my head as I pulled Al's hat further over my eyes to block the sun.

“That was some adventure,” I told myself and stepped on the gas onto the state road.