Land of the Cold Sky Book 2: Shane Mcquaid Series

By Bruce Dunavin

The emotional and deeply spiritual conclusion to Book 1. This is an epic Christian love story to rival that of Romeo and Juliet. A mountain man (Shane McQuaid) found the love of his life (Becky) in a Ute village and with the grace and blessing of God, marries her.

This second book begins where book 1 left off as they leave the Indian village that has been Beckys home for many years. The newlyweds set out on a dangerous journey to a cabin on the slopes of Buffalo Peaks. Shane hasnt seen his folks for over two years and they think he is dead. He wants to stop by the ranch and see them on the way to Buffalo Peaks. The threat continues as evil men seek to own the horse Shane rides and will do anything to possess this magical mare. They succeed in kidnapping Becky and are on their way to Denver where they will turn her over to the head of The Syndicate, Lou Blonger. He will trade her for the horse or sell her into slavery; whichever will make him the most money. He would also kill Shane, take the horse and keep Becky if that is an option. He is the personification of evil.

The setting for this magnificent story is central Colorado in the latter half of the 1800s before law and order was established and before the railroads brought politicians, bankers, businessmen, lawyers and hoards of people that will eventually be the beginning of the end of the American West.

Along the way there are other exciting tributaries to the main plot such as an unimaginable flash flood, tales of survival, death, western justice, supernatural healing, humor, hot springs, other mountain men, a rancher who has no use for politicians or lawyers, fur trappers, bandits, preachers, a dog with near human qualities, cruelty, loneliness, unmitigated happiness and more. There is even an improbable chess game.

This book was written by a devout Christian for other Christian believers but will be an unforgettable read for anyone who likes to see good triumph over evil. This book will bring tears to your eyes; it will make your heart sing! This love story is painted against the backdrop of the awesome grandeur that is the Rocky Mountains. The author describes in great detail the feeling of standing on top of a 14,000-foot mountain to look down on eagles in flight.

There is so much more to this book than can be described on one page. If you want a book you will cherish and be proud to give to a friend; pick this one up and read it. You will enjoy reading it more than once. It would make a movie the likes of which only comes along once in a lifetime.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 30, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483671024

Bruce Dunavin

Bruce Dunavin: USAF Major, Ret., Electrical engineer, wildlife photographer, fly fisherman, bow hunter, mountain man and hermit. Devout Christian. Lives at 8500 feet elevation in the middle of nowhere north of Cotopaxi, Colorado.

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Copyright © 2013 by Bruce Dunavin.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Rev. date: 07/24/2013

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Contents

Chapter 1 A Lingering Threat

Chapter 2 Homeward Bound

Chapter 3 Home

Chapter 4 Montana Canterbury

Chapter 5 Headed To The High Country

Chapter 6 Hot Springs

Chapter 7 The Hermit

Chapter 8 Cody Dunavin

Chapter 9 Back To The Cabin

Chapter 10 Return To The Badger

Chapter 11 The Desperate Race

Chapter 12 Lou Blonger

Chapter 1

A Lingering Threat

Af ter the famous horse race in Salida several years previous, Lou Blonger began looking in earnest for the black mare. Two of his henchmen, Pogue and Slim Hicks, told him they had seen the horse in Salida at the race and that the horse had won by an unbelievable margin. It had outrun all the thoroughbreds in that race. The second place horse was a thoroughbred and it was a long time after the black mare crossed the finish line that it came in to claim second place.

Pogue said to Blonger, The guy ridin’ the horse is Shane McQuaid. We tried to kill ’im and git the horse back but he outsmarted us. Shot my little toe off and shot a piece off Slim’s ear. He coulda kilt us both if he wanted. He ain’t no man to be trifled with. Him and that horse is workin’ together somehow. He’s got exterordinary powers. He can see in the dark. And he’s mighty good with that pistol o’ his. Just don’t seem quite human. Like he’s got another dimension to ’im. He’ll kill a passel of us afore we kin ever kill him.

Blonger was angry that Shane had outsmarted two of his best men. Perhaps not the two sharpest knives in the drawer, but they were good loyal employees. Blonger assembled a few more of his henchmen and told them to find the horse. He would pay $5000 to the first person to bring him information leading to the location of the horse.

Go to Salida, Canon City, Nesterville and everywhere in between. He sent Pogue and Three Fingers McCoy to Westcliffe. Go to the Canterbury Ranch in Hillside where the horse was born and see if they know anything. But be careful they don’t find out we stole the horse from them in the first place, he said.

A couple weeks later two dangerous looking characters rode into the yard of Montana Canterbury, owner of the Canterbury Ranch. It was a huge place covering about 25,000 acres of prime grassland and he raised cattle, horses and hay. Jeb Parker had worked for him and had run the horse-breeding program there before he died.

Montana was working on a saddle in the tack shed when his dog started growling and got up from his sleeping place near the stove and went to the door. Montana heard the riders so he stepped out into the daylight to see who had come to visit. His dog was growling and the hair on his back was standing up. Montana could tell by the way they looked; this might not be a friendly conversation. Calm down, he said to his dog, patting it on the head and it went over by the tack shed and laid down but kept his eyes on the riders.

What can I do fer ya, Montana asked.

The taller thin man growled, We’re lookin’ fer a horse, a black mare that was stole from us some time back. We wuz told she might be here.

Ain’t seen no black horse here since we had a black mare stole from us some time back.

The thin man sprang from his saddle, drew his gun and stuck it in Montana’s face. Before any words could escape his mouth, the dog was on him. And Montana had his left hand around the man’s wrist holding the gun and his right hand around his throat. He ripped the gun from his hand and began to shake him like a rag doll while the dog still had a hold of his ankle. The man in the saddle drew his pistol to shoot either Montana or the dog, but the thin man was in the way. Before he could get a good sight on Montana, Sarah shot right through the screen door and emptied him from his saddle with a shot to the chest. Now, there were two men on the ground; one unconscious from an attitude adjustment and several dog bites and the other dead with a hole through his heart. Montana noticed the unconscious man only had three fingers on his left hand. The thumb and forefinger were missing.

Sarah came out into the yard to inspect the carnage, ejecting the empty case from the rifle, You never know what to expect around here. Do you know either one of them, she asked.

No, I never seen either one of ’em afore. Wonder what this horse is all about they be lookin fer. I git a funny feelin’ it has sumthin to do with that beautiful black mare that got stole from us just before Jeb died. Go git me a bucket o’ water, he told Sarah.

Montana picked up the dead man and bodily threw him over the saddle of his horse. He threw water in the other man’s face and dragged him to his feet to see if the attitude adjustment had taken affect yet. The man’s eyes were rolled back in his head but after a couple of shakes he began to come around.

Who are ya, where ya from, and what are ya doin’ here? he asked sternly.

When the man was fully cognizant of his situation, he realized he might be in big trouble.

"You tell me everthin’ I wanna know and ya might still ride outta here alive today. Otherwise, you’ll not see another sunrise. What’s this horse ya speak of?

The attitude adjustment was apparently a success because the man started to talk and when he was done, Montana had the whole story.

They call me Three Fingers McCoy. I work fer Lou Blonger. One of Blonger’s other men named Sweeney stole the mare from you in the first place after Parker wouldn’t sell. And Blonger got real mad cuz Parker run him and Sweeney off. Pogue, the man yer wife jist kilt, took the horse back to Denver under cover o’ darkness. Took ’im nearly two weeks to git ’er there without nobody seein’ ’im. We had a buyer lined up and wuz gonna sell ’er fer a lot o’ money but one of our own named Jacobi stole the horse and lit out headed south with ’er. Sweeney caught up to ’im south of the Springs and had to kill ’im afore he could tell where the horse wuz. Jacobi didn’t have the horse with ’im so Sweeney had no way ta find out where the horse wuz. We ain’t seen the horse since. The boss sent us to find ’er. There’s a lot of us still lookin’ and Blonger has a reward out.

McCoy was downright polite at this time and hoped his story would satisfy Montana.

The horse ain’t here and I ain’t seen ’er fer a long time, Montana growled. An’ furthermore I don’t know where the horse is now. You tie what’s left o’ yer partner onto his horse and ride outta here. If I ever see ya agin, it won’t be the most pleasant thing that’s ever happened to ya in yer life. Now GIT!

The man hobbled as quick as he could over to his partner, tied him to the saddle and then mounted up and rode out of the yard headed north.

Later that night in a dream, Montana heard these heavenly words. My son, the mare is safe. It is my will that she remain in the possession of one man and that man has her now. His name is Shane McQuaid. He knows not at this time that his mare came from you. I will send him to you when the time is right but he is hidden now for many enemies are looking for him. Do not take the horse from him when he comes or accept anything in return for the mare, for it is my will that he have her. I will bless you many times over for the loss of the horse. She is one of a kind and perfectly matched to he who has her now.

Sarah woke the next morning and made coffee. She was fixing breakfast when Montana poured himself a cup and sat down at the wooden table.

God talked to me last night, he said. He told me who has the horse now and God said the mare was bred for just this one man and he would send him down this way when the time was right. We are to let him have the horse and He will bless us many times over. He said the man’s name is Shane McQuaid.

Sarah stopped cooking breakfast and looked straight at Montana. I had a funny feeling about that mare as soon as she disappeared. I couldn’t put my finger on it and didn’t understand what it meant at the time and not sure it makes sense now. But, one thing for certain, we are part of a story, and God is the author of that story. Some day we will meet this man Shane McQuaid, and we’ll know how that story ends.

Montana reached out his hand to Sarah. Let us pray, he said and she sat next to him and he said this short prayer.

Dear heavenly Father, I know not what this is all about but we will abide by your will. I am humbled that you chose us to be part of this story and I ask that you give us strength to do as you wish. I am looking forward to meeting this Shane McQuaid. If You chose him, he is worthy of our friendship. We stand ready to fulfill Your commands whatever they might be. We thank You for your blessings in Jesus’ name Amen.

Chapter 2

Homeward Bound

As they left the Ute village behind, Shane stopped and let his wife ride up next to him. He softly stroked her cheek and then they rode hand in hand along the edge of the prairie until the quakies turned to the south. They followed along just at the edge so they could look out into the park. Antelope were scattered in small herds all over the sagebrush and buffalo grass. They rode south until the sun was high overhead and they dismounted to rest next to a small stream. Sa-rap began to build a fire to cook something to eat. From one of the bags on the packhorse she removed a string of sausage. Shane took his rifle and went looking for a grouse for supper. He wasn’t out of sight when Sa-rap saw him shoulder his rifle and she heard a shot. He levered another round and fired again. He was back next to the fire with two grouse before the sausage was cooked.

I plan to be in Salida in four or five days where we can pick up some supplies, Shane said as he plucked the feathers from the birds. Sure would like ta have a good cup o’ coffee. Been quite a while since I tasted any. Never realized I missed it so much.

Sa-rap smiled, I’ve tasted coffee before, when I was a young girl. I don’t remember it having a good flavor though. But I will be glad to make you coffee as soon as we find some.

By now the sausage was done and they sat on a fallen log to eat lunch. They talked about things from their past and about the future and about each other. They talked about settling down and living in a cabin in the high country away from civilization where they could live in peace and quiet. Far out in the prairie to the east a herd of buffalo grazed undisturbed. They noticed a man on horseback coming their direction from the south. He was leading a packhorse and a dog was walking beside him.

When the man got close enough, Shane recognized him. He was an old friend he’d met in Westcliffe several years before. His name was Cody Dunavin. Shane was having a drink in one of the saloons when four moldy looking miners picked a fight with Cody. Cody was alone at a table nursing a beer, minding his own business, when these four guys drunk and brave on whiskey decided they wanted to fight someone. They picked Cody and all four stood around his table taunting and tormenting him until all he could do was stand and defend himself. He got the first punch in and after that the fight was three to one but eventually they got the best of Cody and began to give him a terrible beating. That’s when Shane stepped into the fight. With one blow from his fist the fight was now two on two and within less than a minute the fight was over and the four men lay unconscious on the floor.

The man on horseback also recognized Shane and when he got within earshot, stood up in the stirrups and hollered out Shane McQuaid, mighty good to see ya agin, muh friend. Been too long. He rode into their camp, stepped down from his horse and extended his hand. Looks like God has favored ya all these years. Where ya be comin’ from and where ya be headed to?

As soon as they got into camp, the dog went to Sa-rap and she petted the friendly animal. It was a dark black color with eyes that almost looked human. It licked her hands and violently wagged its tail as she rubbed his head and ears.

He ain’t never took ta strangers like that afore, said Cody. In fact, he ain’t never let nobody pet ’im. Never seen ’im act like that. His name is Pancho.

Cody was tall and muscular, tough as a fence post and about as handsome as any man who ever lived. Blonde hair, green eyes and a Christian with a pleasant disposition until somebody got him riled up. He was a good man to have on your side; a nightmare to be against you.

Good ta see you too Cody, yer lookin well.

Been down ta Bent’s Fort selling muh furs. Headed north fer the summer ta git ready fer the season this fall. Yer lady here looks familiar ta me. What be yer name ma’am?" he asked as he took off his hat and offered his hand.

My name is Sa-rap, my father is Chief Ouray of the Ute village north of here.

That’s where I knowd ya from, but ya wuz a lot younger then. I lost muh horse in a rockslide ’bout five years ago up in that country. Broke muh laig bad and had ta crawl into yer camp. Musta passed out across the crick sometime durin’ the night. Yer people carried me into camp and took good care o’ me. Once Ouray found out I knowed Englert, he said I was welcome there ferever. I didn’t wanna overstay muh welcome so I left as soon as I wuz healed up. Musta been there fer a couple moons or more. Ouray even gimme a horse so I could ride outta there. That next summer I took him two horses to pay him back fer his generosity. It be the truth, I owe my life to yer father and yer people.

I remember you Cody Dunavin, said Sa-rap. You were lucky to survive that accident. You were in bad shape when my people found you. I remember you bringing the horses that next summer. My father was very happy and proud to have those horses. And my people had a celebration in your honor. It is good to see you again Cody Dunavin. But I remember you speaking in the language of my people then. How did you learn to speak in the tongue of the Ute?

Englert taught me, he said. We spent several winters trappin’ on the North Fork ’bout twenty years back, afore he retired from that and settled down on his ranch and spent all his time between there and Buffler Peaks. Ya got any idée how’s he gittin’ along?

Don’t rightly know, answered Shane. Ain’t seen him fer a couple years.

So how’d it come ta be that you two are together," inquired Cody.

Sit down, eat the rest of that sausage and I’ll tell ya the story, It’s a good ’un.

Shane spent the next several hours telling Cody about the events of the past several years; bringing him up to the present. Sa-rap played with Pancho the whole time Shane talked.

"We left the Ute Village this mornin’. Been a couple years since I seen muh parents and I figger they be purty worried ’bout me by now. We wuz headed that way and stopped here fer lunch.

Well, ya be right ’bout yer folks bein’ worried. Wuz jist through there late last fall and they asked me ’bout ya. Couldn’t give em no good news ta cut down on their concern as I hadn’t seen ya neither. In fact, I ain’t seen nobody who knowd nuthin’ ’bout ya. Apparently ya jist up and disappeared. I do have some news ya should be interested in though. I wuz talkin’ ta Wilkins ’bout Christmas time. He said there’s lot’s o’ interest in that horse yer ridin; some purty bad hombres been lookin’ real hard ta find that mare. They got scores o’ men scattered all over the place as lookouts and a reward of $5000 to anybody who can provide information that leads them to the horse. Yer life is probly in danger, so be careful. I heard ’bout that horse race ya won and how fer ya won it by. I could see why some varmint might wanna git their hands on that horse. And I doubt if they’d hesitate to kill ya to git ’er."

Ain’t that a kick in the head, pondered Shane rubbing his beard. I never thought ’bout that at all, but yer probly right. I need to be on the alert. Thanks fer that info."

A stab of fear came into his heart as he thought of the consequences of this to his bride. He feared no man but he did realize that Sa-rap would be in danger as well.

With all that being said, the sun was late in the western sky and Cody stood to leave.

Thanks fer the vittles and conversation. I’ll spend the night with Ouray and yer people tonight. I have a gift fer your father, he said to Sa-rap as he shook her hand.

It was good to see you again Cody Dunavin, she responded kindly. May the Lord be with you in all your travels."

He shook hands with Shane and mounted up. Watch yer scalp, he warned. Stop by and see Rusty. You’ll be there in time fer lunch tomorrow. He just butchered a calf and has some good vittles ta share. He’ll be glad to see ya agin. God bless.

Pancho sat on his haunches next to Sa-rap as Cody rode out of camp. He stopped and turned in the saddle. Ya comin’ Pancho? And the dog took off after him.

Sa-rap put her arm around Shane and they watched Cody ride north toward the land of the Ute and she felt a twinge of sadness as she remembered her life with the People. Within a few minutes, Cody went out of sight over a ridge. Pancho turned as if to say one last good-bye, and then went out of sight as well.

He is a very handsome man, Sa-rap said, very well mannered and polite; reminds me of you a lot. He has that look about him that says, God is with me. He will make some lady a good husband one day if that be the Lord’s will. And his dog seemed almost human.

Yes on all accounts; he does remind me of me, Shane replied. And I know he has a bible he reads ever day and I reckon he’ll read some passages to Ouray around his fire tonight. The People will have a celebration over his visit.

They packed up all their possessions, put out the fire and mounted up. They quietly rode until sundown found them on a cliff overlooking a meadow full of beaver ponds about four miles to the south. Further down the stream was a small cabin sitting partially hidden in a grove of aspen.

That’s Rusty Ross’s place down there, he said. We’ll be there in time fer lunch tomorrow.

Shane began to unpack their camp and Sa-rap started a fire. Within a few minutes, Shane had their bed ready under a lean-to and the grouse from earlier that morning were over the fire roasting, filling the air with a savory aroma. Shane hugged Sa-rap and said, Let me say a prayer thanking the Lord for all that we have been given.

"Dear Lord and heavenly Father of all mankind, we thank Thee for all that You have blessed