Crimson Highway by David Wickenhauser (brene brown rising strong TXT) 📗

Buck. I’m going to have to be one careful dude when I get back down there,” he said.

He then pulled out a couple of pieces of beef jerky, and a bag of trail mix from his saddle bag. He sat on a flat rock, considering while he ate what he’d do once he was back at the home place, and was with Jenny again. He decided that plans might be premature right now, because he didn’t know where Jenny stood with all this.

Last he knew, she had hated him and had set him up to be killed by her uncle. He gave her credit for setting him free, ultimately saving his life. But, he also thought back to all of the times she had done one-eighties on him, dramatically changing her moods from being one person to being the complete opposite.

“Come on, Buck. Let’s continue,” Hugh said, as he swung back up into the saddle.

The afternoon continued uneventfully. He did stop for a short time mid-afternoon to give Buck a rest and a chance to feed, and for Hugh to build a small fire to heat water for a cup of coffee.

He had seen no evidence of squatters, so he was pleased with that.

“Let’s finish off this loop to end up on the ridge above where my dad and Roly are working,” he said. “Then, we’ll drop down and visit them there in the morning on our way back to the ranch house.”

Buck nickered in agreement, and set off happily down the trail.

By the early evening, Hugh figured he was in place above where his dad and Roly were working, so he pulled off when he saw a good spot to camp for the night.

No opportunity to shoot another rabbit had presented itself, so he punched a couple of holes in the top of a can of chili with a church key, and set the can on some hot coals on the side of the fire to heat up.

By the time he had spread out his ground cloth, and situated his saddle and sleeping bag for the night, he could see steam rising from the holes in the chili can.

He finished removing the top of the can with a P-38 can opener, another great holdover from his military days, and spooned out the chili, eating it directly from the can.

He then stomped the can flat, and placed it into a baggie for throwing away in the trash once he got home. After licking his spoon clean, and then wiping it dry with his bandana, he congratulated himself on getting the dishes done. No muss, no fuss.

He kicked up the fire once again to overcome the growing darkness, and took out his Bible for a little bedtime reading. He’d always found the book of James to be a great comfort, particularly in dealing with relationships. So that was what he turned to.

As he read through the chapters, he could see—as often happened when he read the Bible—applications that pertained to his life. He saw God speaking about both his relationship with Jenny, and with her uncle.

“Her uncle? Now, that’s interesting, Buck,” Hugh said. He hadn’t considered her uncle in the future equation at all.

One reason, is because he sincerely hoped that the man would have given up by now, and that Hugh would never have to deal with him again.

Another reason is because if the man came at him again, Hugh was planning to take care of the situation like he had all the others. But, Hugh realized that the Apostle James, through the Holy Spirit, might be suggesting that he take a different approach.

“Hmmn. I’ll have to give that some thought and prayer,” Hugh said.

Hugh put the Bible away, then snuggled into his sleeping bag. He let the fire die out slowly by itself.

Hugh was suddenly awakened in the middle of the night by the sound of his horse snorting and pawing the ground.

Uh, oh. Trouble, Hugh thought, instantly awake. He sat up in his sleeping bag, threw a handful of dry grass and tinder onto the still-glowing embers in the fire ring, shouldered his rifle, and scanned the perimeter of the camp to try to spot what had alerted his horse.

His ears picked up a “ruff,” and a “snuff,” then he spotted two glowing eyes just outside the perimeter of the campsite. The yellowish-gold glowing eyes were too wide apart, and too high off the ground to be anything but a grizzly bear.

He carefully added more sticks to the fire, building it up to provide more light. As the fire light expanded the perimeter, he could see the outline of the huge bear. It was standing calmly on all fours, just watching.

Hugh kept his rifle shouldered, with the safety off, and waited for the bear to decide what to do. Hugh figured that his camp was on this bear’s regular route, and it had become curious about the man and horse smell there. Chances were real good that the bear would satisfy his curiosity, and amble on.

After a staredown that lasted several minutes, that’s what happened. The bear “huffed” once, turned on its heels, and trotted off.

Hugh put his rifle down, and snuggled back into his sleeping bag.

“Thanks, again, Buck. You’re a good boy,” Hugh said quietly to the horse to reassure it, and calm it down.

Hugh drifted off back to sleep, and the rest of the night passed uneventfully.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The next morning, Hugh scouted around the area where he had seen the bear. The ground was mostly forest debris. But in a patch of bare dirt Hugh saw a footprint, one that was obviously left by his night-time visitor.

He spread out his hand and placed it over the track. Now, Hugh had large hands. He was a large man. But, he could not spread his fingers wide