The Tanner Trilogy Boxed Set

Chapter 7

7

Another log was tossed on the fire, sending sparks dancing up into the cold night air. Three men sat on foldable tripod chairs, the fourth was rearranging gear in the bed of his pickup in order to make room for the bear and two deer that they had bagged on this trip.

“When we get back into town, I know just the place to go to get that rack mounted,” Jerry said, spreading his fingers wide and stretching out his arms to the width of the antlers on the buck he had shot that morning.

“Yours is nice, but it’s hard to beat that 8-point with my bullet in him,” bragged Dan.

“But if it weren’t for Jerry’s buck, and that hunger after a long, winter’s nap, we wouldn’t have a bear skin to bring back with us,” Bob added, shaking his head at their luck.

The four of them had been coming to this part of Wyoming for the past few years because the pickings were so easy. They had all grown up hunting with their fathers and brothers and remember having a few slim years when no one got a tag, or if their number was drawn, they would leave the hunting trip empty-handed. Jerry and Bob were from Montana, Dan lived in Colorado, and Paul resided in Oregon, only because his company transferred him there. They had all met on a hunting expedition in Western Wyoming ten years earlier and had kept in contact with each other. Trading off hosting a hunt, they would travel to various Western states, bagging whatever they could hit, whether it was in season or not. Finding locations where they were sure to walk away with a prize generated the idea that if they had extra, there were others who were willing to pay, and pay well, for what these friends could bring back.

“How much do you think you’ll get for that bear hide?” Bob asked.

“Keeping the head on, and with his thick winter coat, premium. I’d say about forty-five hundred,” Paul answered as he rejoined the group, and the heat, by the fire.

Dan rubbed his hands together and held them out towards the flames. He was the youngest of the four, and the thinnest. Not much for drinking, like Bob and Paul, he also didn’t have a belly that hung over his belt. His wife didn’t mind that he took off a few times a year to “meet up with his hunting buddies” as she called it. She didn’t know anything about game, and that pleased them both.

Bob was also married and had three grown kids who had moved out. His wife had her friends and vacations that she went on, usually to a spa, and this was his way of getting out of the suburbs. He pulled the flask from inside his jacket and tipped it into his cup to enhance the flavor of the coffee. Passing the whiskey to Paul, he sipped what he hoped would keep him warm that night.

Taking the whiskey and drinking straight from the flask, Paul enjoyed the burn of the alcohol. A f*****g bear, he thought. They had always come away with something, but never a big-ticket item like a grizzly. He had an inquiry just last month from someone in California looking for bear meat and a hide. It would be nearly all profit, since it didn’t cost him much to get here, just a plane ticket and a donation towards gas for Dan’s truck.

Jerry picked up a stick and stirred the coals. His deer was nice, but he would have loved to bag that bear. He had two kids in college and construction jobs were hard to come by, especially in the Montana winters. Most of the meat he would keep, the rest he would sell to his cousin who owned a restaurant in Billings. The economy had affected all of them, but him the most. His eyes roamed to the others around the fire, all similarly dressed in jeans over thermal underwear and flannel shirts under their winter jackets. They all wore hiking boots, and he and Bob, with their thinning hair, wore caps. Dan had grown out his beard. Bob and Paul were imbibing, perhaps more than they should.

“What time should we head out tomorrow?” Jerry asked, knowing it would depend on how much celebrating Bob and Paul did that night.

“If we pack up and hit the highway by eight, we can make it to Buckshot Taxidermy and Meat Processing by nine-thirty,” Dan answered.

Bob gestured with his cup, “And I’m sure Billy will look forward to the business.”

They discovered Buckshot on a previous trip. Billy was willing to ignore the out-of-season kills they brought him, for a slight fee.

“Let me check the weather report. That may have us leaving sooner,” offered Dan, who went to his truck to try the Laramie radio stations.

At the top of the hour, they started off with local news.

“The shooting death three days ago of local icon Bear Tanner, owner of Tanner’s Outdoor Adventures, has rocked the community of Centennial. Bear Tanner also owns an operation in Colorado. An investigation is ongoing as to the cause of his death, whether it was accidental or deliberate. It is unclear what will become of Tanner’s Outdoor Adventures, located off Highway 130 and Ehlin Road in the Medicine Bow National Forest. In Laramie…”

Dan ignored the rest of the broadcast. They had stumbled upon this area a few years back and knew it to be a game Preserve. Bear Tanner was wealthy enough, and they guessed he wouldn’t miss a handful of sometimes-stocked game. The funeral would most likely be within the week. If the owner was dead, that would mean no parties into the Preserve, which meant they could return and see what else they could harvest before they all headed back home. He climbed out of the truck and returned to the fire that was now burning low to share his idea.

“You know, we’ve been lucky this trip. Five days in and we got ourselves three kills. We all still got some time before we’re scheduled to return home. How about we make a trip to Buckshot, then come back for another couple of days?” Dan suggested as he stood close to the glowing coals.

“Are you kidding?” Jerry asked incredulously. “They’re bound to bring a party through here, and it wouldn’t be pleasant to explain our presence.”

“I just heard on the radio that the owner was shot. He’s dead. With the funeral and everything, no one will be taking out guests.”

Three pairs of eyes looked at him, unblinking.

Paul and Bob spoke at the same time.

“Hell, yeah!”

“Sounds good.”

“Jerry?” Dan asked.

Jerry shrugged. “Don’t see why not. There’s plenty here for the taking,” he said and gestured to where both deer were hung in a nearby tree.

With that decided, there were discussions as to which ridge or canyon they would scout, the latest they could stay, and still hit Buckshot a second time before Paul, Bob, and Jerry had to catch their flights from Laramie. They eventually found themselves in their tents, warmed by kerosene heaters.

“Shaun is the only one here. Sam will probably arrive tomorrow, and God only knows when Carli will make her appearance.”

“I’ll come for the funeral. Pay my respects,” she spoke into the phone, her voice cultured, smooth, persuasive.

“Are you sure you want to do that? I don’t think they’ll be thrilled to see you,” he said, rubbing his forehead.

“I’m their mother. It will give me the opportunity to catch up with them, then see their faces as they realize their father and I never divorced.”

“Bear could have changed his will. He could have left everything to the three of them.”

“You mean you haven’t found it yet?”

“It’s not like I haven’t been looking. Bear’s filing system isn’t understandable to anyone but himself.”

She sighed. “Even if he did, as his legal wife, I’m entitled to inherit all of it. It’s the least he could do, since he dragged me to that—” she stopped, then took a breath. “Max Stevens is still his attorney, I presume?”

“Yes,” he said and looked across his room, the same one he had occupied since he arrived at the Preserve.

“Then I’ll be making an appointment with Mr. Stevens. Call me when they have made arrangements for the ceremony, and I’ll reserve a flight and a car.”

“Darla—” he said to stall her disconnecting their call. “Do you have everything in place with the planners?”

“Of course. The layouts are complete, we have financial backers, a bid from Wilson Construction, and now a clear lane to a very healthy bank account. Don’t worry. Our early retirements are secured.”

Without another word, there was a click and then silence in his ear. He set the phone on the table and hoped she was right.

Samantha climbed down from the truck, then walked to the back where she lowered the tailgate and pulled out her luggage. Matt came up beside her and closed the gate. Leaving one hand on the truck, he placed the other on her shoulder.

“Everything at Crystal Springs will be fine. Joe and I have our orders and our usual duties. You just take care of what you need to. Don’t worry about rushing back.” When her eyes glistened, he slid his hand across her shoulders and gave her a sideways hug. “If I don’t hear from you saying you’re extending your stay, I’ll be here to pick you up in two weeks.”

“Thanks, Matt,” Samantha said, then turned and pushed through the glass doors of the airport building, pulling her luggage behind her.

Once she was seated on the plane, she rested her head back against the cushion and stared out the window to watch the ground crew. She had flown home for the holidays and wasn’t expecting to go back for a while. Then her father had caught a bullet in the chest, and her life had turned upside down. Bear Tanner was fifty-eight years old and fit enough to guide hunting parties on the Preserve, which proved to be a very lucrative business. His other endeavor, Crystal Springs, a horse and cattle farm in Colorado, was what she spent her time directing.

As the plane sped down the runway, she thought back to her childhood. The middle of the siblings, she never felt forgotten. Except by her mother. But her father filled that gap. He taught her how to take care of her horse, how to shoot a gun, to survive in the wilderness regardless of the season, and most importantly, how to trust again after the incident when she was sixteen. None of them spoke of it, but she knew Carli and Shaun looked for lasting effects. There were a few, but she kept them to herself. She briefly wondered if her father had ever forgiven himself for what had happened to her. It was not his fault, and in the end, everything worked out. She was alive and Carl Rutgers was in prison.

Jerking her thoughts back from that time, she instead focused on what would need to be done. A service, donations, cards and flowers she knew others would send, existing reservations… and decisions to be made regarding the operations of Tanner’s Outdoor Adventures. With a half-smile, she thought of her siblings. Carli was extremely independent, traveled the globe, was a gifted artist, and had a Rolodex the government wished she would share. Shaun was the quiet one, the deep thinker. He was always coming up with one scheme or another on what politicians should try in order to deal with government issues.

With Carli and Shaun being dreamers, that left her to be the logical one. She made lists, played by the rules, and followed through with her commitments and obligations. Her business degree was well suited to her personality. And it would be her strengths that would be needed as they said goodbye to their father and figured out what to do next.