Spirit Horses (42 page)

“All right, you piece of shit, where are you?” Shane
whispered to himself, still looking around as he made his way back to Tory.

Hawk, JB, and Tara were just getting to the canyon
and were carefully working their way along the high side of the east canyon
wall.

“Look, there’s the mare,” Tara pointed below, as
they watched her run in a wide-open sprint toward the rest of the herd. Now
that they knew the mare was safe, JB saw no reason to stay quiet.

“Shane!” he hollered. “It’s JB, are you okay?”
Although they weren’t in sight, JB’s loud echoes reached Shane down on the
canyon floor.

He quickly answered, “I’m all right.”

“Have you seen the Arapaho?” JB yelled back.

“No.”

“There’s a trail that leads up to us, about a
hundred yards east of where you are. Hawk and I will meet you halfway down.” JB
looked at Tara and told her sternly to stay up on the ridge. He handed her a
pistol, and said, “If that Arapaho comes for you, don’t hesitate to use it.”
Tara nodded as she watched JB and Hawk start down the steep trail toward Shane.

At the bottom, Shane rode east, like Hawk had told
him to do, and soon found the way up. He knew Jack was out there somewhere. He
just hoped the sound of his friends calling would be enough to scare him off.
Shane had made it up to a level spot about fifty feet above where he had
started. The fog had cleared, so he turned to see if he was being followed.
Hawk and JB were still several hundred yards up the winding trail and were just
now coming in sight above him.

Then, out of nowhere, he heard the sound of Jack’s
voice. “Hey, asshole,” the Arapaho hollered. Jack moved from behind a tree about
forty feet down the trail from Shane. “Damn, I must have ridden right by him,”
Shane murmured.

Jack was on foot as he moved into the open with his
rifle pointed at Shane. During their descent, Hawk and JB lost sight of Shane
for a few minutes. The slow, winding trail had taken them behind some large
rocks and trees, which obstructed their view below. “Drop your rifle now,” Jack
yelled.

“Well, at least you didn’t shoot the defenseless
horse,” Shane
retorted, trying to stall for time. He knew JB and Hawk were not far away and
would soon be able to help.

Jack laughed, “I could care less about that damn
horse. It’s you I’m after. Besides, I may still go out and shoot the mare after
I’m done with you.”

Shane looked Jack square in the eye, pointed at him
angrily, and yelled, “There was no reason to rough that kid up like you did.”

Jack laughed again. “I did that just to piss you
off. I heard you’d been helping him with his horses.”

Shane, still stalling for time, replied, “You’re a
tough guy when it comes to beating up young boys and women, aren’t you? Why
don’t you put down that gun and let’s see how you can do with a grown man?”

Jack sneered as he shook his head. “I know your
friends are coming down the trail to meet you. I figure they’ll be here in about
five minutes. That doesn’t give me enough time to kick your ass before I shoot
you.” Suddenly, the look on Jack’s face turned to pure evil. The next sound
Shane heard was the clicking noise of a rifle as Jack cocked the lever and took
careful aim. “This is for my partner, Thomas,” he yelled as he started to
squeeze the trigger.

At that same instant, a shot rang out from above.
The bullet that came from behind Shane tore into Jack’s right shoulder,
knocking the rifle out of his grasp. The Arapaho scrambled to his horse which
he’d tied nearby, and took off.

JB and Hawk had come around the bend of the trail
just in time to see what was happening, and Hawk had squeezed off a quick shot
at Jack. Neither Hawk nor JB were about to let Jack get away. JB screamed out
one of his crazy war cries as they rode past Shane in hot pursuit of the
Arapaho. Shane knew that his two friends hadn’t noticed he was hit.

Tara didn’t stay at the top of the ridge like she’d
been ordered. As soon as JB and Hawk disappeared around the first bend, she
started following them down. She heard the shot and was now riding toward Shane
and Tory at a fast trot. He was still sitting on his horse, with his back
toward her, as she rode in close. It took her a minute to realize what was going
on, but she soon grasped the terrible truth. Shane was beginning to slump over
his saddle horn with his open hand pushed into his stomach, as blood oozed
through his fingers.

It sounded like only one shot had been fired, but in
reality, Jack fired his rifle simultaneously with the shot Hawk had got off
from the trail above.

“Shane,” Tara yelled. “Oh God, NO!” Before she could
get to him, Shane had fallen off his horse and was tumbling down the ridge to
the bottom of the steep trail fifty feet below. She screamed his name out again
and again as she helplessly watched him plummet down across the pounding,
punishing rocks until he finally landed hard at the bottom.

Shane lay broken, mangled, and bleeding at the base
of the steep slope, barely conscious. He was too far gone to feel any pain.
Tara urged her horse down the long sloping trail at a dangerous pace, hoping
and praying that somehow he would be all right.

The ride down only took a minute, but to her, it
felt like an agonizing eternity. She frantically jumped off her horse and knelt
by his side, tears streaming down her cheeks. Tara picked up his hand, put her
face close to his, and looked into his eyes for what she feared would be the
last time. He struggled to stay conscious, but as hard as he tried, he could
not speak the words that he desperately wanted to say to her. With blinding
tears, she gently kissed his lips, held his hand tightly, and slowly inhaled
his final outward breath. Then his body went limp, and he closed his eyes
forever.

Tara moved her quivering lips to his ear, exhaled
the breath she had taken in from him and whispered, “You go to them,
Tahotay
. Your
family is waiting.”

She kept her composure for a short while, but the
reality overwhelmed her, and for the first time in her adult life, Tara broke
down and sobbed uncontrollably. Now she felt the pain and loneliness Shane had
been through. A pain that could only be understood by losing someone whom she
had loved with all of her heart.

***

Suddenly, something caught her attention. It was a
cloud of dust and the sound of thundering hooves heading in their direction. It
was Naatea with the herd coming toward them, hard and fast. Then, for no
apparent reason, the mustangs slowed down and came to a sudden halt, only fifty
yards away. With the herd calmly settled, only Sloppy separated herself out and
continued to come closer. Tara, still kneeling at Shane’s side, watched as
Sloppy moved toward them. In her shaken state of mind, it took her a moment to
realize the horse was actually trotting up to them, in some kind of suspended
slow motion. Although the morning fog had lifted a while ago, a strange mist
surrounded the mare. She stopped only a few yards away and nervously pawed the
ground. The mare’s eyes were wide open,
and her nostrils flared as she inhaled the mist that surrounded her, and then
anxiously snorted it back out.

Tara gasped as she caught a glimpse of something
else in the cloud-like mist. Something that sent chills up her spine and made
her heart race wildly. With an unsteady, blood-stained hand, she wiped the
tears out of her eyes to see more clearly. It was then that she saw an outline
of a man. The silhouette looked faint to her at first, but it gradually grew
more defined. As the image moved through the misty haze and closer to the
fretful mare, the horse began to calm down. Then Sloppy let go one last snort
and, in an instant, became totally relaxed.

Tara struggled to gain control over her emotions as
she saw the shadow reach out for the mare’s mane, and gracefully swing up on
her back. Seconds later, the mist slowly began to clear away and the figure
became recognizable to her. Even before she could make out the features of his
face, she knew it was Shane by the way he sat on the horse. He turned and
looked into her eyes, and deep into her soul. Although no words were spoken,
she knew he was telling her good-bye, and that she would always be in his
heart. Tara remained speechless as she noticed him smile while the outline,
that a minute ago was so clear, began to fade. Shane turned and looked ahead
just as the odd mist smoothly drifted back in and enveloped him.

Tara stood up and said under her breath, “Go to
them.” Then as if someone had given the horse a perfectly timed cue, Sloppy
backed up three steps, rolled over her hocks and raced off to join the herd. As
the mare reached the other horses, Naatea screamed one of his loud, echoing
screams, and the mustangs banded together in a stampede that soon disappeared
through an open field and into the dusty horizon.

Tara closed her tearful eyes and a scene became
vividly clear in her mind. She envisions the herd running at full speed,
charging wildly to the top of a high, grassy hill. Passing over the peak, Shane
looks down and sees his family in the meadow far below. Tina and Jacob are
laughing and playing by a stream, while Jen sits nearby, watching over them.
The horses stop where the top of the ridge meets the clear blue skyline, and
only Sloppy and Shane continue down into the meadow. Jen and the kids look up
to see Shane coming and begin to wave excitedly as he gallops toward them.
Suddenly, the mare drops her haunches and slides to a smooth stop. This is as
far as she’s allowed to go.

Shane slowly climbs down off her bare back and
proceeds to rub her affectionately on her muzzle. He leans in close to the
mare’s ear, and whispers to her softly, “I brought you to yours, now you’ve
brought me to mine.” Then, with a gentle slap on her hip, he sends his old
friend off in a slow trot, back to her waiting herd.

He turns to face his family just in time to have
Jacob and Tina jump into his arms, with Jen soon joining them in the embrace.

The clear vision in Tara’s mind brings a smile to
her weeping face. She knows Shane has finally played out his destiny, and the
spirit horses have taken him to where he belongs. He is now in a place where
sadness will not exist for him anymore.

EPILOGUE

Hawk and JB had no idea Shane had been shot when they rode by. Even if
they’d realized it, they couldn’t have saved him. It was the bullet from Jack’s
gun that killed him, not the fall.

They did catch up with Jack. He had eventually
collapsed off his horse and passed out due to the massive loss of blood from
his shoulder wound. He bled to death before they could get him out of the
valley.

Later that day, Tigee received the news that Jack
had shot and killed Vince Nethers earlier that morning. He apparently had come
from Nethers’s house before beating up young Tommy, and sending the boy to
Shane with the note. Jack had demanded money from Nethers or he threatened to
testify against him. Vince pulled a gun on Jack. The Arapaho showed no
hesitation when he pulled out his own pistol and blew a gaping hole in
Nethers’s chest.

He had told others he blamed Vince Nethers for his
best friend’s death, just as much as he blamed Shane. No one ever found
Thomas’s body. This ended up as a very interesting story, written by Chad
Dunning, the investigative reporter.

In time, the Shoshone tribe prospered from the oil in the valley.
Because of the oil money, Tara’s dream of a better education for the children
on the reservation, along with college scholarships did come true. Shane’s idea
of building a resort eventually did happen. The Spirit Horse Resort and Lodge
stayed booked up year around. It provided a good income for the tribe and kept
a healthy public
fascination for the mustangs as well as the valley they live in with all it has
to offer.

Tommy became a respected clinician and took ole Tory
with him on the road until the horse grew too old to haul.

The two wolves, Butch and Jessie, ended up as JB’s
sidekicks, and whenever you saw JB, you were more likely than not to see them,
too.

It was several years before Tara met another man to
whom she could give her heart. She did eventually end up with a family, which
included two strong and healthy sons. Her oldest boy was already five years old
when she married. He was born a little less than nine months after Shane’s
passing. She named him Jacob, and from the time he was old enough to walk, all
he ever wanted to do was to ride horses with his Uncle Tommy.

Author’s Note

The word
Tahotay
along
with the myth it represents, as well as all of the other tribal spiritual
beliefs in this story, came solely from the imagination of the author. The
other Native American words used in this book and their translated definitions,
came from research on the Shoshone Web site dictionary. The combination of some
of these Shoshone words was formatted to fit this fictional story, therefore
they may have been used out of context to the actual Shoshone
language.