had come full circle. His own fortune was made and he had come back to the only place he had ever considered home. The morning sun was bright in his eyes and the day was already starting to warm up. May in the Gila Wilderness of New Mexico was still the most beautiful place in the whole world to him.
Reed stirred the fire in the old stone fireplace, grateful for the warmth. The smell of the steak on the grate wafted through the house, making his stomach growl as he reached into the cooler and pulled out a cold beer. His muscles ached from the long day of work but he had gotten the inside of the house cleared of debris. His father had built the house from the best materials he could find and the wood was still as solid as the day it had been cut and nailed. He would need a new pump for the well and the plumbing and electrical would need to be redone but overall the house was not far from being habitable. He smiled as he listened to the sounds of the wilderness at night. He had missed the music made by the animals. The crickets, the frogs, the coyotes, even the occasional mountain lion. He pulled the steak off the fire and set it aside to cool. Rummaging around in the kitchen, he found the cabinets just like they were left the day his father died. No one had come to the house to clean or pack because Reed was the only one left. No brothers or sisters, no aunts or uncles. Just Reed. No one had any reason to be there and it was far enough into the backcountry that no one came snooping. There was evidence that a few hikers had taken refuge there, probably during a storm, but no damage had been done. He savored the taste of the rich beef, wondering just what it was that made food cooked over a fire better. He smiled as he remembered the various things he had eaten over the years. He’d take a good American steak any time.
Reed leaned the axe against the side of the house, pausing to wipe the sweat from his forehead and take a long drink of icy water. June was in full force and even here in the mountains, the heat was oppressive. He looked around, taking stock of what he had accomplished in the last month. The old homestead looked almost like it had the last time he was there. He smiled in irony. It was amazing what a cell phone, a name, and money added to sheer hard work could accomplish. There had been a steady stream of delivery trucks in and out for the last few weeks and all the creature comforts a man could want were at his disposal now. He had been lean before but six weeks of physical labor had added several inches of muscle to his tall frame and his skin was a dark bronze from the sun. His eyes glittered like the deepest emeralds as he watched a hawk soaring overhead. He could easily spend the rest of his life here perfectly content.
Deciding he had enough fence rail split for today, he grabbed a towel and bar of soap off the table by the back door and headed down to the creek. The sun made the water glitter like diamonds as he quickly stripped and waded in. The sudden chill made him inhale sharply but it was welcome after the heat of the afternoon. The deepest part of the stream was about fifty yards up so he made his way slowly through the swift moving water. He enjoyed his daily ritual of bathing outside; winter would come soon enough and he knew there would be days on end when he would be stuck inside. Unconcerned with his nudity, he dipped his head under and lathered up. His eyes were closed as he squatted in the thigh deep water to rinse the soap from his hair. The soft breeze was cool on his body, making him shiver but the sudden distinctive sound of a pump shotgun changed it to a cold chill. He froze, his hands still in his hair, every muscle in his body tight. Son of a bitch! The first thing he had learned when he left home was to always be on guard and here he was, literally caught with his pants down! Hell, he wished he had his pants! The sound had come from his left so he turned very slowly in that direction, still keeping his hands up but easing them down just a bit as he pushed his hair back from his forehead so he could see. At least whoever it was had waited until he got the soap out of his eyes! Sure enough, there on the hillside above him stood a tall figure in dirty coveralls holding a shotgun. He was unable to clearly see the man’s features because he had a baseball cap pulled down low on his head. He was tall but didn’t seem to be a very big man but it didn’t much matter if he was a midget; the shotgun was all he needed to have the advantage at this distance. They stood motionless, staring at each other for what seemed like forever. Reed was reluctant to start the conversation-he liked for his opponents to make the opening move when they were the aggressor. It gave him a better idea of what he was dealing with.
The stranger’s voice was husky, almost feminine when he finally spoke.
“You mind telling me what you’re doing on my property?”
Reed frowned. His property? As far as he knew, no one else had ever lived up here but him and his family. Just his luck he had probably stumbled onto some crazy ass tree hugger who thought wherever he was, he owned it. He would ask that later. Right now he just wanted to get out of this freezing water and get some clothes on! If he stood here much longer he would be able to get away because the guy was gonna drop his shotgun laughing. No man would be able to resist cracking a joke about the state of his manhood right now regardless of the situation they were in!
“Don’t think I’ve seen you around here before,” he said cautiously. “My name’s Reed Callahan. I live here.”
The stranger raised an eyebrow, looking around the clearing where they were standing.
“Don’t believe I see any houses around here,” he said. “Unless you live in a tree house that I haven’t found yet, I have to say, Mr. Callahan, I’m having a hard time believing you.” He seemed totally unconcerned with Reed’s state of undress.
“Do you mind if I grab my towel while we continue this conversation?” Reed asked, beginning to get irritated with the whole thing.
The stranger motioned casually with the gun. “Be my guest.”
Reed backed up cautiously until he felt the bank of the creek behind him. Scrambling out quickly, he grabbed the towel and wrapped it around his narrow hips without drying off, grateful for the small comfort of not standing buck naked in front of a total stranger any more. He was trying desperately to keep the sound of banjo strings out of his head. The width of the creek between them made him feel even better. Now that he wasn’t quite so vulnerable, his curiosity was rising. The stranger still hadn’t introduced himself or explained what he meant by ‘his property’ and Reed didn’t see any sort of a vehicle around so where had the man come from?
The man motioned again with his gun, bringing Reed’s guard back up.
“So just exactly where do you live?” the man asked. “I’ve been around here for a while and I think I’d remember a man like you if I’d seen him before.”
The banjo strings suddenly got louder. Reed swallowed and took a deep breath. Hard to be intimidating when you were facing a man with a firearm and all you had was a damn towel!
“I live on the Callahan ranch about half a mile from here,” he said firmly.
“Callahan Ranch?” the stranger asked skeptically.
“Yeah,” Reed answered. “As in Reed Callahan. That was my parent’s place. I grew up there.”
The man snorted. “That place ain’t fit for the raccoons that took up there. Nobody’s been there for years.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve been gone for a while,” he said angrily. Enough was enough! Reed had about had a belly full of this.
The stranger didn’t look to be in any hurry, easily holding the weight of the 20 gauge Remington level with Reed’s gut.
“So you just suddenly come back after ‘being gone for a while’ as you put it, and decide you need a bath in my creek?” he asked sarcastically.
Reed had gone from slightly irritated to full-blown pissed.
“Look. I don’t know where in the hell you’ve
