Whisper of the Heart

By S. Bryan Gonzales

Cash and Travis it all began one warm October day back in 2003 on a forgotten levee of the mighty Yellowstone River. They were high school kidschampions within their own fields (Cash, a rodeo cowboy, and Travis, a football player). Eventually, they fall in love. But like everything in life, their relationship is challenged, stretched, and sifted; while at the same time, they both discover they have severely changed. Whisper of the Heart is the third saga of the Hunter-McCollum Series. Skillfully, it is wrought with surprise and suspense. And as sultry secrets entice the most innocent into a world of desire, dreams, and deceit, the question iswill their love survive, or will it become one more casualty among a list of shattered dreams?
www.underthebigskybooks.com

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jan 2, 2013
• ISBN: 9781477296592

S. Bryan Gonzales

Diane Cardenas has achieved several writing credits such as a journalism award from Bonaventure University.  She has also been noted for assisting in the writing of several medical textbooks such as the Handbook of Symptom Oriented Neurology and Ferri’s Clinical Advisor 2002.    Diane is currently an assistant researcher at the University of Louisville in the School of Medicine.    Where Free Men Pray is her first novel.                Steven Bryan Gonzales assisted Diane in writing Where Free Men Pray.  In 2006, Steven completed the first novel of the Cash and Travis series named Under the Big Sky.       Born and raised in Montana, he grew up with a strong sense of commitment.  Just as he’s determined to do his best in working and studying, he strives to give 100% toward the relationships in his life.  He believes we should be open to all possibilites within the realm of human experience.    Steven’s mission, with this series, is to tell the reader the worth of people.  Bar-none, we need each other—through thick and thin.  In a day and age where people are treated as a cheap commodity, it’s his desire to challenge that attitude and encourage us to respect each other and never take them for granted. 

Book preview

Chapter One

We’re losing him!

A steady, shrieking sound filled the room from the monitor. Quickly, those huddled around the pale, still body, jumped into high gear—a scurry of motion sweeping around the operating table . . .

*****

Looking around, he could not tell where he was. He felt light. There was no pain. Where am I? He tried focusing. That’s strange. Below him, a body lay lifeless. In fact, he looked like himself. Silently, he watched people fumbling with equipment over an apparent wound gaping across the man’s chest and shoulder.

What’s happening?

"You don’t

know how long I’ve waited for this."

The voice came from behind—clear and precise; but yet, he couldn’t tell who it was.

Turning, he found himself affronted by the old, familiar image. Cowboy hat and pointed-toed boots . . . indeed, they were the first give-away. He knew who it was. Why, he should have recognized the voice.

Lee.

An icy chill swept over him—bringing with it the threat not to ask questions.

It didn’t hurt, did it? The shadowed figure spoke more with a statement than question. He knew.

What do you want? Cash suddenly wished for escape, but unfortunately, he discovered that he couldn’t because his legs would not cooperate. In fact, he couldn’t move at all.

Funny, the jeering spirit tossed out in raspy laughter, . . . you used to ask me that all the time.

Nervously glancing about, Cash told himself, this can’t be! Vigorously, he struggled against the entombment to move his limbs.

"Let’s see, I used to feed you a line that used to go like this . . . You know."

And while the surgical scene below seemed to grow more distant, Lee’s form became uncomfortably close, with features of his face now clearly defined. From eyes radiating darkness, lines across his face bore sadness as black as night. There was no anger, but yet, there was no forgiveness.

What’s happening to me?! Panic flooded Cash. He couldn’t be dead. I’m not ready to go! With all his might, he struggled to draw closer to the room and his body where doctors and assistants wildly worked to revive him. I have things to do! I can’t die now!

We have things to discuss. Lee’s words fell big and heavy. They did not float away. And as they pierced the darkness, they pounded Cash’s disbelieving soul with the force of bullets—like the one which had lodged in his chest. You’ve had it so good.

Let go of me, Lee! I don’t deserve this! Cash gasped—fighting desperately for control of his body. This way and that, he squirmed against unyielding forces that consumed his prison that was much fiercer than his defiant will.

"I hate you!!"

*****

Sitting obediently . . . solemnly, within the confines of his Adonis lair, Travis wrestled voraciously against rampant fear—knowing this existence all too well. Loss certainly was not a stranger to his heart. Oh, no; not at all. To have life, which he dearly loved, be stripped mercilessly out of his grip . . . well, it was a feeling much too familiar, and one that he could easily do without.

Clinging faithfully, for all its worth, the little girl . . . his daughter passively rested a trusting head upon an uncertain, but yet, undeniably stalwart shoulder. He openly sensed the warmth of her body penetrate every fiber of his burly arm.

If anyone would have told him five years ago he’d be a father—daddy to a little girl—and not just any little girl, but to a Turkish girl—he would have replied, You’re crazy . . . fuckin’ nuts! But here he was . . . plunked down within a cold, sterile hospital, waiting to hear a word—a word of life . . . a word of death—with his child.

She’s becoming so dependant on me.

Closing red, burning eyes, he allowed his heart to burst and scramble. I can’t lose Cash now!—feverishly, privately, he chanted. Truth is, I need him more now than ever. Of course, we have scads of issues between us; but, this is not the time for him to die! Besides, we’ve come this far—with our differences and the dual adoption, not to mention all our other every-day crap. I can’t allow all this to be simply thrown away!

Thus, he knew he wouldn’t be able to raise Elena on his own—especially considering what a growing girl needs at her age.

So, what exactly are our issues? That central question picked away at his mind. But he chose not to elucidate, because the fact was . . . he loved Cash. Unequivocally.

And he also knew that no one comes to any relationship without lugging some form of hidden baggage, or covering a pile of un-swept dirt under a beautifully colored carpet.

Nobody’s perfect. Nor do couples . . . straight or gay . . . always see eye-to-eye.

With that thought, he had to be brutally honest with himself . . .

So, I have pride, and Cash is stubborn. Of course, there’s no question about either of these facts, but it’s how we’re gonna work through all this—in order to make our relationship thrive, not only for ourselves, but for the sake of Elena as well.

Now, if he only pulls through. Reverently, he sighed that hope—returning to a world, which at this particular moment, seemed unstable as ground churning within the center of a roiling earthquake.

Stroking long strands of Elena’s hair, he allowed its softness to penetrate prickled nerves upon his skin. Indeed, her closeness comforted him.

She’s so peaceful and trusting. He simply could not help but be amazed at how passive her demeanor appeared.

It was anything but passive, though, of what was going through her head . . .

Memory of a dream crept eerily back into her thoughts with a vengeance. Oddly, it had come to her moments before Jennifer’s dreadful call informing them of Cash’s fate. They had just returned from an enjoyable afternoon on the beach, looking for driftwood to decorate her room.

In all honesty, had it been a dream? Well, it certainly seemed to be real—real as the sofa she was quietly sitting on. But seriously, she had her doubts while tightening her hold on Travis. So, diligently, she worked at recalling what exactly happened, just to make sure she wasn’t kidding herself . . .

. . . Who are you? What do you want? She tossed out the questions even though she knew the answers—as plain as the nose on her face. And seeing him clearly, she reared up. I’ve had enough! For years, he seemed to drop by like an elusive UFO—swooping silently from the heavens only to hover ominously above her soul, but only play mindless tricks with her head.

The man now stood silently before her, veiled within shadows.

He always looks familiar, she told herself—like someone I closely know. But then again, I should know him, because he’s part of me—my flesh, blood, and spirit!

You’re rude and mean. Her words caught herself by surprise. She hadn’t meant to come off so bluntly; but then again, she couldn’t help herself, because her feelings seemed to tumble forth like a bulging reservoir—restrained by an aging, crumbling dam.

So, if he is my father, my real-physical daddy, then who cares? I’m through with his crap—this stupid cloak-n-dagger game, because it’s old. And each time he visits, I feel sadder—more resentful. Moreover, each time he appears, I’m never able to solve the mystery of why he left me.

You need to go away. Her decision was final. I’m tired of seeing you. You don’t talk, and you never have. Emotions that welled up inside, gurgled from her mouth. "I know you didn’t want me when you were alive, because I was a pain to you back then. So now, you need to leave me alone."

Then you’ve moved on? He finally spoke, but it was only a raspy whisper.

Move on? What the heck’s he talking about? Her in-between, child-adult mind vigorously pondered. So, the first words ever uttered to me, and he says this?

Instinctively, her bewildered silence coaxed the spirit on. You don’t need me.

Did I ever? Determinedly, she held her stance—not sure how a seven year-old should hold up against a dead parent’s spirit.

You tell me.

Tell you what? Tell you I thought for years you hated me? In spite of surging emotions, no anger rode in her voice.

"So, who is your dad, now?"

You know. Instantly, her thoughts conjured a high-energy, red-headed cowboy with a brilliant smile. She also thought of a towering, crew-cut haired man with bulging muscles. And even though the second one scowled a lot, there was a gentle, caring way about him. She knew he loved her . . . they both loved her.

He’ll be with me soon.

It made her freeze—sending cold chills across her body. What’s he talking about? His words only added more to her confusion and frustration. Which one? He needs to clarify. But deep down, she knew the answer, and it scared her.

And then, as quickly as he had appeared to her in the private confines of her room, he simply vanished.

Was it any wonder why she raced to the phone the minute it started ringing? Somehow, she already knew what the message was going to be.

*****

As good as she was in making things happen, it was just short of a miracle that Tina found someone willing to fly out considering such short notice. Her son’s call had taken her by complete surprise. Well, perhaps not completely. Tucked away in a secret corner of her mind, she had suspected something like this would happen. What’s the old saying? One thing leads to another?

After the gunshots through the living room windows, it was evident that someone was on a vendetta. That incident was not just by happenstance—no, not at all. It was an act of intention—with a purpose to threaten and kill. The thing irritating her—where are the suspects? Who did it? Surely by now, something should have come up. In all honesty, she doubted the credibility of that investigator. At first, he seemed right on it—checking out all the possibilities. But as time passed, it became more apparent this assignment was simply not on the top of his priorities.

Hastily tossing various things into her suitcase, she allowed her mind to ponder several things . . .

None of this would be happening if we wouldn’t have come back to Montana. And how am I going to correct it?

It had been her idea; and now, she could only blame herself. Initially, she thought the move would be good—to get away from the limelight, go back to her roots. But besides her Aunt Grace, who had just passed away several years ago, and her brother, Carl, who was never home because of long, countless days working in the oil and coal fields, she virtually had no one else to lean upon, because the rest of the family, as far as she was concerned, could go to Hell.

Things had changed . . . she had changed.

At first, their transition had appeared to be the right thing. She had found a good job at the bank, and Travis was settling into school and football very well. They were both doing fine until her son met Cash.

She’d never forget it—the evening Travis brought him home to meet her.

Mom, I’d like you to meet someone . . . Cash McCollum.

She had heard of that name, like the couple of hundred others around town. But she wasn’t grabbed to full attention until her nose picked up the overpowering scent of a barnyard—musty leather, hay, and livestock. For God’s sake, it reeked from his clothes! Well, if it’s the cowboy type that turns you on, she had cynically thought, then here’s your dream guy. Cautiously, she had extended a cordial hand—forcing a smile. I hope there’s nothing serious with this connection. Telling herself it was nothing more than one of Travis’ adolescent tangents, she went on to think, surely, he’ll never get serious with someone like this, will he?

Nearly six years later, that question seemed clearly answered—dear Father in Heaven.

She didn’t hate Cash. In fact, she found him rather intriguing. I know why Travis is so enamored with him . . . he’s so darned cute! For one thing, those darling dimples situated strategically within that heart-warming smile . . . well, it could melt the coldest heart in December. It was his brash, unbridled behavior that turned her off—so wild-mannered and damned-determinedly independent. And then, there was his unconditional control over every situation . . . why, she’d never seen anything like it before.

. . . What do you mean he wants you to attend a state school?! Until then, Travis had been laying out plans to attend one of the Ivy League schools back east. And now, he’s talking about going to the University of Montana?!

Cash wants to stay here, her son’s words had squeaked out with a note of reluctance.

"Yes?" she honestly could not believe where this conversation was heading, So what does that have to do with you? You’re not letting him decide where you’re going to go for college, are you?

Mom, a pleading tone dripped from his tongue, . . . I want to be with him.

Yes, I understand that,—it had taken everything to control herself, . . . but you’re the one standing in line for a fleet of great scholarships to a plethora of first-class schools! What can he say for himself? That he’ll win a silver buckle for riding wild horses?! My God, Travis, wake up and smell the roses!

I’m going where he will be, his words had been cut and decisive—no room for further discussion.

Whatever,—had been Tina’s final comment with a disgusted flip of her wrist. What else could she say?

What really alarmed her was Cash’s impact upon Travis, because prior to that little ‘commander-’n-chief’, her boy seemed so strong, sure of himself, with a future as bright as the sun. But now, he seemed weak-willed and rather brow-beaten. So, why does Travis always have to be led around by the nose? There’s no reason for him to behave with such insecurity, because in all reality, he has everything to make himself completely successful.

This really concerned her.

Now, Cash wasn’t a bad person. No, in fact, he was a very good man—coming from an exceptionally good family. And as people of high principle, the McCollums bore an impressive heritage—in spite of their rough ’n tough ways. Moreover, there was a wholesome sincerity about them—insuring her son would always be in good hands. She knew they would take care of him as if he was their own—and of course, he would eat it up like a puppy.

How amazing . . . Now, if only he could grow a backbone.

Next was Elena.

Never in a million years . . . or at least from that fateful day she unwittingly caught Travis with Jason, Halverson’s overly-entitled son, in bed . . . naked, and drenched in sweat, did she ever dream she’d be a grandma. You’ve gotta be kidding! Obviously, two males passionately connecting can’t be considered the perfect recipe for baby-making; so, from then on, hopes of any procreation occurring, flew right out the window . . . along with bridal showers, wedding . . . and of course, a daughter-in-law. But now, thanks to the wonderful world of adoption, it was finally a reality; and along with that contingency, this tiny, brown-haired girl seemed to fit remarkably well into the complex, often contrary world of ‘Hunter’ obligations, reputation, inheritance, and aristocracy.

That outfit is cute, but I would never buy it, pointing to a colorful, print blouse and skirt decorated on a mannequin, Elena’s words had sounded so grownup for being as young as she was.

And why’s that? Tina had found herself captivated with the comment. They had gone shopping at the mall last summer before Travis took the family down to California.

It doesn’t seem appropriate, the little girl appeared so matter of fact, her eyes wide—as if to say, don’t you see it as well? . . . not if you’re wanting to be presentable to different kinds of people. It makes you look too eager.

Well, that had taken Tina back a peg or two—astonished that such thoughts could be ushered from such a tiny little being.

Besides, I like dark colors, Elena had concluded, picking up a black jumper. It makes me feel stronger . . . smarter. A small chuckle had escaped as she brushed the fuzzy fabric against her cheek.

Yes, indeed, she carried a lot of promise with unbelievable wisdom and determination. She would prove to be good for the family name. She would also prove to be good for Travis.

Finally, there was Jason. At first, she had been floored—discovering the truth about him and her son. Up to that point, Travis had never given a hint he was gay. In fact, everything about him seemed quite the opposite. Being the jock type—quiet and aloof, he never exhibited the typical qualities known to individuals labeled as ‘fags’.

How she hated that word!

Anyway, whatever attracted her boy to that young man, she honestly didn’t know. Maybe it was Jason’s suave personality. He did have a way about himself—drawing others in. Or perhaps it had been Travis’ reaction to the loss of his dad. It would only make sense. The entire nine-eleven incident had seemed to take everyone by surprise.

My God, the way Jack had been stripped away from us . . . it had been so unnerving—catastrophic! I felt lost . . . so utterly lost. I can’t imagine how Travis felt.

The fact was, Travis and her husband had been close . . . very close—spending much of their evenings and weekends together shooting hoops, golfing, or discussing some order of business. Travis had adored his father. And then, to have had the relationship suddenly taken away . . . well, it had left a huge, empty hole—opening up a wonderful opportunity for someone like Jason to move in and take over.

Truth be told, she had been hardly impressed with the Halverson boy. Handsome as he was, she knew he could not be trusted. He was shifty . . . and rather perverted. And the only reason she had orchestrated the gathering at Christmas break was to redirect Travis’ obsession regarding Cash. But how that had boomeranged on her . . .

. . . Travis as well.

Over all, Tina knew it was futile trying to gain control over her son. He’s his own person. But what am I to do when he continually trips and falls into such self-defeating situations? So much of the time he seems to be his own worst enemy and all I want to do is take over the damned reins!

Even now, she could still hear Jack’s soft words . . . Let be—let be.

Easier said than done!

Stuffing the last items into her bag, she zipped it shut and made one last inspection in the vanity mirror. Fiddling with a stray lock from her bangs, a frown flooded her face. I’ll get it styled when we get to Missoula.

The McCollums were already poised and ready at the airport when she arrived. Janice, uncharacteristically, looked haggard as she rose to her feet—picking up her purse and bag; while Eugene pushed himself from the chair and quietly followed the women to the gate.

We tried locating Clayton all night, but he’s nowhere to be found, Janice complained, falling into step with Tina’s hurried pace. I don’t know. He had mentioned seeing one of the stock contractors earlier this week, but he didn’t tell us which one. Eugene called several guys he knows, but they all said they hadn’t talked with him since the last rodeo. Her voice trailed off into a sea of wandering thoughts.

As they boarded the small, private jet, Janice went on to say, We really appreciate you doing this for us.

Winded, Eugene found the nearest seat and plunked himself down. Yeah, thanks, Tina.

In spite of recently discovered concern over fickle stock markets, and how it would affect the family investments—namely their trust funds, she told herself the expense of this charter was worth it. I knew the drive would be long for all of us; and to tell you the truth, I’m really not in the mood to venture clear across the country in a car—at least this time of year. Tina fastened her seatbelt, and fidgeted one more time with the same stubborn strand of hair which caught her attention earlier in the bedroom.

Within minutes, they taxied down the runway—everyone silent, each caught in their own world of betraying thoughts.

Fortunately, the flight was fast—considering the distance, with only little turbulence once they arrived in the mountains. And eventually a surge of joy overtook Tina once she spotted the city below, while the plane banked, then headed toward the airport. Flying on a jet was definitely not one of her first loves. In fact, she dreaded each time boarding—considering what happened to her husband.

Strangely, she could still vividly recall the ill feelings she had borne concerning Jack’s trip, back on that unforgettable September . . .

Can’t you go some other time?—were her pleading words as he packed his suitcase the night before.

You know I can’t, replied Jack with a reluctant sigh—situating a pair of dress shoes beside neatly folded underwear. It’s the annual board meeting, and Dad is expecting me to deliver our West Coast report.

Can’t someone else go in your stead? Unable to identify the source of her rigid persistence, she still continued to un-yield—handing him a stack of dress shirts, along with the bottle of his favorite cologne. What about Halverson? Why can’t he go?

He has a trial scheduled on Monday. And by now, Jack had stopped midway with rearranging—looking straight into Tina’s pensive eyes with deep, blue-eyed bewilderment. Besides, he’s not up to speed on the financials. Then, with a softened voice, he asked—tenderly touching his wife’s cheek with gentle fingers, What is it, Tina? What’s got you all balled up about me going to New York?

And with a confused huff, Tina exclaimed—plopping into the soft folds of the comforter on the edge of their bed. I don’t know; I just wish you could go back there another time.

I’m only going to be gone for three days; and then, I’ll be back on Tuesday for Travis’ scrimmage. Afterwards, we can all go out for dinner. With that, he had dutifully snapped the suitcase shut, and leaned over to give his wife a kiss. Everything will be fine, okay?

But everything did not turn out fine. In fact, her entire world, as well as her son’s, was catapulted into a complete tailspin within the dark, wee hours of the morning on that horrific Tuesday.

Once on the ground, they got a taxi and made their way to the hospital—each one riding deeply within their continued quiet.

She really hoped Cash was okay—for Travis’ sake. She couldn’t imagine him losing another significant person within his life.

*****

Glancing at his wristwatch for the hundredth time, Travis stood to his feet and stretched out relentless fatigue. My gosh, they’ve been working on Cash for a long time, he told himself warily. Earnestly, he prayed mantras for no complications, but somewhere inside, gut instincts warned him differently. He could only brace harder.

His daughter, now serenely curled within the velvety cushions of a nearby recliner, drew deep breaths—signifying that sleep had finally forced her tiny body into surrender. And as he wearily rubbed scorching eyes, to regain some sense of focus, he heard a shuffle originate from down the hallway.

With a pounding heart, a churning sea of foreboding thoughts flooded back into his brain with a vengeance. Oh, let this not be bad news. Please!

What a relief it was to see his mother and Cash’s parents walk into the waiting room. He’d never wanted them so close to his side as now. And even though they all looked as tired as he felt, their mere presence brought rejuvenation back into his soul.

Man, am I glad to see you guys. His words sailed upon nothing more than a sigh; but inside, his spirit collapsed with a scream.

Elena began to stir in the chair with a yawn and stretch.

Bee-lining straight to her boy, Tina extended her arms—drawing him maternally into a secure, lingering hold. And as if silence could be the antidote for wounded hearts, Travis sucked at air that couldn’t enter into lungs fast enough while his body began to rock and tremble—breaking down piece by piece into sobs that simply would not stop.

There, there . . . Tina spoke softly—stroking and patting his back. It’s gonna be alright. We’re all gonna pull through this.

I don’t know, Travis sniffed. I keep telling myself he’s gonna be fine; and that we’re all gonna be okay, but I just don’t know. They’re still working on him in the operating room.

Suddenly, Janice stepped forward—her eyes heavy with worry. So, what’s goin’ on? I thought he was stabilized last night.

He was, Travis exclaimed—pulling away from Tina. Then, heading over to his mother-in-law, he dutifully gave her a hug as well. They got the bullet right away, and sewed him back up. He even stabilized through most of the night. And with a befuddled shrug, he paused, then continued, even though it was a struggle to get words out above a quiver. But something happened early this morning. His heart rate and pressure dropped for no reason, so that’s why they’re working on him right now.

Janice remained silently frozen, while a winded Eugene ventured toward the nearest seat—shaking his head in disbelief each step of the way.

By now, Elena had pushed herself up from the chair—quietly listening to her daddy talk. Then, stumbling toward the group still half asleep, she mustered a weak smile.

Say ‘good morning’ to your grandmothers, Methodically, Travis moved back so the little girl could join in with the others. It was strange for him refer to his mother as ‘grandma’. She certainly didn’t seem like the type.

With an obedient Hi, Elena went to Janice and hugged her; then, looking over to Tina, she briefly hesitated.

And with disappointment falling shadow across her drawn face, Tina jealously quipped, Don’t I get a hug too?

Mom, she’s just waking up, Travis coughed up a viable excuse. Give her some time to warm up to you.

As if I’m a barracuda, she nervously chuckled—holding back any nebulous nibble behind pearly teeth.

Reluctantly, but more importantly, obediently, Elena sauntered to Tina—slipping tiny arms around the woman’s slender body to bestow a strained embrace. Obviously, the child was out of her comfort zone.

As unsettled stillness hung thickly throughout the room, Janice suddenly turned and glared at her husband—concern etching reddened eyes. Gene, you don’t look good. Do you want to lie down a bit?

I can take him to the house, Tina offered.

No, Mr. McCollum scratched out his words with a heavy wave of the hand, . . . that’s all right. I’ll just lie down on this couch for a few minutes.

He had barely drawn his breath when there was another scurry in the hall.

Instantly, everyone held their breaths for the approaching epiphany.

And bounding from around the corner, much like the Mad March Hare, a lively Jennifer dutifully appeared—pushing a pair of overly-worn, green-framed glasses up a rosy nose. Then, taking a step back with surprise, she exclaimed, Oh, good! You’re all here!

What’d she think . . . that no one would show up?! Immediately, Travis could feel irritation rise up. And biting his lip, along with a simpering roll of indignant eyes, he emitted the most inaudible, yet notable huff—only to be detected by an observant Elena, who immediately muffled her snicker with a polite hand-covered mouth.

*****

You have no right to hold me like this! Cash cried—vigorously chaffing against the bondage.

With a hearty laugh, the translucent being sneered, Who said I’m holding you? Raising innocent hands without releasing his gaze, he continued, See, they’re not on you.

Yet, defiantly, with snarling lips and gnashing teeth, Cash wriggled this way and that; for he knew there was no way he would succumb. Not to this one and certainly not in this way! But somewhere deep within, perhaps instinctively, he knew otherwise, because things shifted. In fact, everything changed so fast, the world he knew below now disappeared—leaving him lost within a sea of swirling dark mist.

Where am I?! Desperately, he tried to focus.

You know what I like about this? The spirit’s tone was coy.

Suddenly, Lee drew close. Too close for Cash’s comfort. What? Desperately, he tried to back away.

I like the fact you can’t run and hide. Irreverently, he blended his spirit into Cash.

Knock it off! Cash demanded.

But Lee continued—whisking in, and pulling out—tormenting Cash’s intimate spaces. "If you remember, you used to dictate the way our relationship would go. In fact, you called all the shots. So now, how does it feel to be on the other side—to have someone else possess those cards?"

Suddenly, Cash realized what was happening while fear exploded inside. I can’t die! Not now!!! Staring about, he searched for where he’d been. Where am I?! I’m not ready to go!

Who said you have a choice?

Who’s that? Cash frantically churned against empty space. And looking about into what he couldn’t see, he still felt penetration. Let go of me, Lee! You’re not supposed to do this!

Suddenly, there was laughter . . . those old familiar scratches. And the words that followed were horribly sardonic. As if you know what’s right.

You can’t keep me! It’s not right! With pasted tongue and burning lips, he shivered from the cold that iced into his soul. Besides, I have a life to live!

Says who? Lee reappeared; but this time, distanced with crossed arms.

Because I have your girl. The reason seemed viable.

But the words in reply only sliced it apart. Only because you allowed me to go.

Your time was up. Cash continued to grasp for defense.

And yours isn’t? Lee quickly retorted. My God! You’re so precious; and I just love how you work up logic.

Fighting against the hold, Cash screamed, I can’t die now! Instantly, visions of squandered life flooded his thoughts—careening against a horrified heart with unrelenting vengeance. Mercilessly, he relived countless times—cursing his job while driving those hideous courier runs in Monterrey. How he had hated it all. And how he had willfully chosen to reject any and all blessings bestowed upon him. Then, instantly, he saw before him a lonely, dejected Travis—how he appeared so lost as the result of his partner’s selfish, back-arched attitude. My time’s not up!

Well, that’s what you think, the spirit-Lee scoffed—floating defiantly back against Cash’s form.

But you can’t control my destiny! Cash shoved back, but the movement had no force.

Who said I am? The voice became indignant. The fact is, neither can you.

Realizing the check-mate, Cash declared, Lee, I’m sorry I hurt you! Memories then switched to how he had judged his buddy—pushing him away and even ridiculing him, each attack searing his mind. I’m sorry I led you on; then let you down.

Then, Lee flatly replied, Nothing like a day late and a dollar short, huh?

I didn’t mean to hurt you! Cash felt completely condemned; but yet ironically, the tightness released. Lee, please forgive me . . . I’m so very sorry!

And why do you seek forgiveness? Hotly, Lee spun back into mist.

Because I don’t want to be here; and I don’t want to go to Hell.

That’s where you think I dwell?! The ghost’s dark face burst into flames. His laughter consumed blackness.

I don’t know, Cash shivered. I just don’t want to be here.

So, where do you want to be?

Not here.

But I want you here, with me.

I want my life, Cash earnestly confessed. Please give me my life!!

"This is your life . . . from now on, Lee finally stated, once again blending his spirit into Cash, as if to complete their consummation. And this is my life. I want us to be together, Cash." Then, he paused.

"Forever . . . "

Wildly, Cash flayed—shaking his head and shouting with everything he possessed, "NO!!! NO!!!! I want my life!!!" And then, there was nothing . . .

For one second, Cash cracked open his eyes, and the lights were bright—blinding, in fact. And as medical personnel surrounded him—with hands and fingers busily working over bloody flesh—he closed his eyelids . . .

. . . and dreamt of Brownie.

Chapter 2

For the next several days, ‘the crew’ made themselves right at home in the big, mountain mansion. Travis didn’t mind, however. In fact, he considered it a great privilege having everyone together under one roof.

And as Eugene spent hours exploring and inspecting the looming environs—making random comments to his son-in-law about the house’s layout, design, and structure—the women-folk spent endless time visiting and hanging out in the kitchen; while Maria, in all her glory, created elaborate meals.

Eat! The word had been her forceful commandment, as everyone hungrily gathered around the dining table the morning after Cash revived.

With warm, fresh torts, eggs with bacon, fried potatoes, tangy salsa, and a vast selection of fruit . . . why, the spread-out was nothing short of a royal feast.

This food is incredible! Janice heartily exclaimed—stuffing her face with another breakfast burrito.

Everyone needs to keep up their strength,—was the little Mexican woman’s reply with a determined wave of the hand. I don’t want to hear of anyone leaving this table hungry. Her tone was admonishing; but clearly, it carried clout—in that it was the first time any of them had eaten a decent meal since they had arrived in town.

We won’t, Travis assured as he sat back and patted a well-rounded tummy with great satisfaction. Truth be told, he had found himself getting rather sick of vending machine sandwiches; so, getting back to Maria’s cuisine was truly a blessing.

Janice then shuddered—steering the conversation back to what was on everyone else’s mind. You know, I honestly thought we lost him.

Yeah, so did I, Travis added—resting his knife and fork down onto his plate. Quietly, he put his head down, recalling what the doctor had stated upon coming out of surgery . . .

It’s a miracle he didn’t suffocate, the weary man had commented—taking off his cap and wiping perspiration from his forehead, . . . because a lot of blood filled up his right lung. Then, he went onto explain, From the way I see it, it’s how the bullet entered into his back. It shattered his shoulder blade—allowing bone fragments to pierce his lung, hence the bleeding. Additionally, I had one heck of a time cleaning, then reconstructing that area; but I did manage to remove the shards and stop the bleeding. I also recovered the bullet, as it was lodged just against his collarbone.

At that point, everyone remained quiet as the physician continued with a long sigh. Unfortunately, he’s not completely out of the woods—as we’ll have to watch him for blood clots and infection. The next few days will be critical. Then, afterwards, we’ll need to discuss therapy and rehabilitation plans as he continues to recover. But for now, I think continued stabilization is the name of the game. We just have to be patient and continue to monitor his condition.

Thank you, Doctor, Janice graciously replied—wiping wetness from her eyes. I’m sure you’re doing your best for him. Then, she added, Cash is a strong boy and a fighter . . . he’ll pull through."

And with a polite, but reserved grin, the surgeon took her hand and said, Good thing he is.

After the physician left, Travis found himself completely amazed at how everyone continued to stand within their half-circle, silent and nonplused—as if trying to soak it all in. He figured it was probably the fact that everything seemed so incomprehensible that Cash was truly struggling for dear life . . . and that he’d been nearly killed.

So, who’d do such a thing like this . . . and why?! Without a break, his mind rehearsed questions by the dozen. And what has Cash ever done to deserve anything like this? Is this the end, or will there be more acts of terror? And will it involve others . . . perhaps Elena, or myself?

He could only imagine.

Finally, Jennifer thoughtfully added, Thank God I had an urge to check up on him. Who knows what would have happened if I hadn’t.

And on that note, everyone huddled within the stuffy room nodded in agreement.

Even Travis had to quietly admit—Despite how strange you can be at times, there are some very good qualities about you.

And with that, he sent up a prayer of thanks for Cash’s recovery, and Jennifer’s persistence.

*****

Upon learning that Cash would temporarily be placed into a rehab center, it was decided that everyone would head back to Miles City . . . Elena as well.

There’s really nothing that any of us can do, Janice had announced, wrapping up a sleepless, but non-productive week-and-a-half of endless vigil. "Besides, Maria and Jennifer are here—they’ll be able to keep an eye on the boys.

Initially, Elena had been elated about the decision—of staying with Janice and Eugene at the ranch. Perhaps I’ll be able to skip out of my schoolwork, she had earnestly told herself. To her dismay, however, Tina had contacted the school principal in Monterey—making arrangements for her to complete the rest of the quarter via distance learning.

Most of her class assignments will be available over the Internet, Mrs. Hunter had proudly chirped to Travis the day before they left. Can you imagine that?!

The look on Elena’s face had said it all. She was obviously less than pleased.

Seeing them off at the airport, and feeling somewhat lonely, Travis decided to stop by the hospital. I hope we can visit a little, he told himself with a half-ounce of hope. There was no way he wanted to drive back to that huge, empty house and sit there all alone. Truth be told, he was beginning to understand perfectly well Cash’s contrary behavior concerning that place, because even to him, it had a tendency to be overwhelming and somewhat creepy—especially at night.

What’s wrong?

Travis still remembered the moment when his mother quizzically asked him that simple question the night before leaving—stopping mid-step within her trek down the staircase with a pre-packed bag. He could still mentally see the perplexed gaze saddled deeply within her eyes as she slowly approached him.

Huh?