“Okay, you fucking shit-head,” Ben instructed the now-subdued rapist, “bend over and touch your toes. When you get there, grab your ankles, and don’t move! I’m still not successfully convincing myself that you deserve to be left in one piece.”
Amy still felt petrified that her uncle might yet do something rash. She didn’t care what happened to the Mexican now, but the legal ramifications that Ben could face scared the crap out of her. She was in a daze, as part of her wanted to run to her uncle’s arms, while the rest of her was still frozen because of the impact of the situation, both on her, and on her uncle.
”Amy, go find Jim or Colin, and have them get their asses in here. As soon as you do that, run into the house and give the RCMP in Sundre a call. Let them know that if they aren’t here in twenty minutes, they can bring the meat-wagon along. I might have a customer for them.” Amy hesitated, fighting to overcome the shock that immobilized her. “Go, Little One! This man’s life depends on it!” Ben almost yelled. The shrill voice was what Amy needed to overcome her stasis, and she ran towards the barn’s man-door, calling Jim and Colin’s names loudly as she exited.
With the girl no longer present, Pedro began to feel a little braver. If he kept his composure, it just might be possible to overpower his captor and escape. He tensed his muscles in preparation of a retaliatory attack on this man holding him prisoner. Ben sensed Pedro’s actions, and drew back the rifle’s hammer as the clicking sound acted as a warning to the Mexican. Pedro immediately abandoned any hope of escape.
Out in the yard, both Jim and Colin quickly responded to Amy’s screaming call. Running towards her, both found themselves unprepared for the sight of Amy’s blood-caked face, and her bruises. As an incentive to keep them moving, she directed them to the barn, explaining that Ben had a man inside, covered at the point of his rifle. They were about ten feet from the door, when the sound of a rifle report filled the air, reverberating as it was amplified by the doorway’s opening. Amy froze instantly, fearing the worst, that her uncle had actually shot her assailant. Jim and Colin burst through the door and into the barn.
“Damn!” Ben growled as the two rushed over to the Mexican’s inert body. “Missed!” was all he said.
Jim bent over the Mexican and checked for a pulse, then looked for a bullet’s point of entry. There wasn’t one, although the skin of the man’s scrotum was charred black from the flash of the bullet, and most of his crotch hair was singed to the point that it might as well not even exist. He had passed out from the shock of almost losing his sex organs, and both his bladder and bowels had involuntarily evacuated themselves. The stink was atrocious.
“No, I didn’t hit him,” Ben advised Jim, “but it was fucking tempting. As much as I’d love to put this bastard out of our misery, the last thing Amy needs is for one of us to be sent to jail. But that’s the only reason that fucking cocksucker’s still alive. Colin, grab a rope and tie his hands and ankles together, would you? I’m liable to make the next shot count.”
Colin pulled some rope off a nail on the wall, and had the Mexican roped and tied in a lot less than the eight seconds of a rodeo. The resulting mass of disgusting humanity struck Ben as akin to a calf that had been roped in preparation for branding. If there’s been a branding iron available and ready, he wan’t so sure he wouldn’t have used it.
Amy rushed into the barn, expecting the worst. It took her a minute or two to thoroughly assess the situation, and when she understood that Ben’s shot hadn’t actually hit the attempted rapist, she breathed a heavy sigh of relief.
“Shit, Ben! When I heard that shot, it scared the shit out of me! For chrissake, please don’t ever do that again!” she howled at her uncle. But the fact that he was willing to go to such lengths because of her registered in her mind, and the impact stuck in her brain. For a man to risk everything like that spoke volumes about how much he loved and cherished her. Running to her uncle, she wrapped her arms around his waist and held him as if he was her only hope of living.
“Did you call the police yet, Little One?” Ben quietly asked her.
“No, I didn’t get that far. Christ, I fully expected to come in here to the sight of a dead body! Calling the cops was the last thing on my mind! Let me get my shit together and remember where I put it first? Then I’ll go make that call” Amy softly answered.
“Either one of you got a cell phone?” Ben inquired of the two ranch hands. Colin reached into the top pocket of his shirt and produced a phone, holding it up so that Ben could see. “Give the RCMP a call for me, would ya, Colin? I want this piece of cow-shit off my ranch as soon as possible. That son-of-a-bitch is gonna prefer an all-day plane crash to what I have in my mind, if they aren’t here in twenty minutes” he added.
Jim offered to hold the rifle so that Ben could attend to his niece’s cuts and bruises, and he gratefully surrendered the weapon, then guided Amy towards the house. The adrenaline had burned itself out of her system, and now her legs were shaking as the shock of the events took hold of her. She accepted her uncle’s assistance mindlessly as they made their way back to the house, and into the bathroom. Ben wrapped some ice from the freezer in a dish-towel and applied the compress to Amy’s bruises, then carefully began to wash the caked-on blood from her nose. He determined that it wasn’t broken, but only because she’d been lucky.
It was almost twenty minutes later that the RCMP cruiser arrived. Both Colin and Jim escorted the officers into the barn where Pedro lay, still unconscious. When asked about the marks on Pedro’s body, both hands just looked blank and shrugged their shoulders as an unspoken answer of ignorance. Neither one was about to open another wound for their boss to deal with. Today had been exciting enough to last for the rest of the year, and it wasn’t even noon yet.
One of the officers asked where Ben and Amy were, although she didn’t refer to them by name. Jim went to the back door and called Ben, informing him that his presence was requested. Leaving Amy to rest from the ordeal, he went out and talked to the officer, suggesting a list of charges to be laid against the Mexican would-be rapist. Eventually, Pedro was loaded into the back seat of the cruiser and taken away.
“Thanks, guys,” Ben said as his attention turned to the two hands, “for everything you’ve done today. I’d love to give you both the rest of the day off, with pay of course, but there’s cattle to be moved, and I have a young lady to take care of.” Ben’s thoughts turned back to his niece’s welfare. “Speaking of cattle to move, where’s Tim?” he queried.
“He’s driving those Longhorns up to the south-west range.” Jim answered. “In a way, I’m kind of glad he’s not here right now. I can see him losing his cool, and pulling that asshole apart like an over-cooked frying chicken. Besides, he’s the best man to move that herd. Only Tim could drive a hundred head by himself, and never lose one” Jim praised the Indian. Even Colin, who had only worked with Tim once or twice before, was in full agreement.
“Hmm, I see” Ben started. “There’s another couple of trucks coming with the rest of Amy’s herd. I think they’re supposed to arrive either this afternoon, or first thing in the morning. When they do, could you guys run the new arrivals up with the rest of the Longhorns for me?”
“Sure thing, Mr. Calhoun” Jim acknowledged. “Consider them moved. Any plans to move those Herefords soon? If they’re coming back down from the north-west range, we could do both herds in one day. Your call, boss.”
“Maybe,” Ben answered, “but I’d like all three of you down here by suppertime tomorrow night. I’m doing supper, and you’re presence is required. Feeding you guys is the least I can do for all you’ve done this morning. And I have an idea that Amy has her own way of saying ‘Thank you’ that you’d better be at. If you aren’t, I’ll be the guy singing all the high notes, if ya know what I mean.” The three chuckled lightly before Jim and Colin got back to work.
Ben went back into the house to check on his niece. Amy was laying on the bed, resting as best she could, considering the pain in her head. The ice compresses were helping the bruising, but that blow to the back of her head still throbbed. She began to think that Excedrin might become part of her well-balanced diet for the next day or two.
Walking into the bedroom, Ben looked at his niece, the worried state of his mind as prominent as a roadside billboard on his face.
“Hey, Little One. How’s my favourite niece feeling now?” he questioned, the concern in his tone very genuine.
“I’ll be okay, Ben, but that son-of-a-bitch scared the crap out of me. If it hadn’t been for you, I don’t know if I would have lived or died. Jim and Colin’s help is really something else again, too. Remind me to thank them both?” Amy stated.
“Already did, Little One,” Ben started to reassure her, “and I’m going to have them all down for supper tomorrow night. I thought you’d like to say thanks, in your own way. That’ll give you some time to decide how you want to say it. But can I ask that you do it with your clothes on? As much as I hate to admit it, I’m beginning to hope you’re mine, all mine. I’m not good at sharing women” Ben teased.
“Oh shut up, Ben Calhoun!” Amy hollered. “I may be from Montana, but I’m not completely stupid!” The joviality broke some of the tension that the morning had built up. As she began to smile, Ben saw her wince, the sores around her mouth restricting her skin’s movements. “Oww! Remind me not to laugh like that” Amy suggested.
“Those lips are a little sore, are they?” Ben commented. “Maybe I’ll just have to spend the day in here and kiss them better.”
“Hmm, that’s the best idea you’ve had in the last ten minutes! Get your skinny little ass over here, and get to work!” Amy ordered. As Ben’s lips softly caressed hers, they both knew in their hearts that Ranchland would never be the same as it had been, one short month earlier.
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