Chapter 24

Vows

Marilee turned eighteen! And Graydon turned nineteen.

On paper, both were landowners worth millions. Purdy had passed on. Abner had arranged for Purdy to live in a small home on the Columbia River on the edge of the Colville Reservation where he spent his last days visiting the tribal elders and reconnecting with his lost heritage. Abner checked in on him every week, sometimes spending an entire day in the old man’s company, finally taking the time to hear Purdy’s stories of times past. Purdy died in his sleep one night. But he’d left a hand-scrawled note on the nightstand beside his bed. He seemed asleep in death, at peace with a smile on his face as if he’d greeted someone in his last moment.

The note said, “Goode. The kid gets it all.”

The Brightmans returned to their ranch and found the house and outbuildings in good shape, undisturbed and undamaged in the short time they’d been forced away. The lawsuit restored everything that had been taken away, except for Jim’s team. He put out inquiries and found the man who’d bought them. Jim bought them back. The old horses seemed delighted to be home.

He never did find where his old Jeep went. He was forced to buy a new replacement. “Not as good as the original,” he grumbled, “but it will have to do.” Vi teased him about it. “So! New and shiny won’t equal old and worn out, eh?”

“You don’t understand,” he growled. “I was used to the old one. I knew all of its quirks. Now, this new thing. I’ve got to learn it all over again.” But when she wasn’t looking, he grinned. He did like the new and shiny, after all.

Mike Peterson returned to his cabin in its secluded corner on the Brightman ranch. It was undisturbed. Although he’d miss staying with Father Ambrose and Sister Agatha with their far-ranging late-night conversations, he was delighted to be back to his hidden cabin, the surrounding forest, and his privacy. He began gathering firewood to heat rocks for a cleansing sweat bath.

Augustus Atwood and Jason Embridge were found guilty on all counts and sentenced to twenty years each in state prison; Atwood tried to cut a deal for a reduced sentence in exchange for turning state’s evidence against Carlos Montoya, the gang connection. Atwater’s request was refused. A federal organized crime unit followed up on various leads and sent a strike force into southern New Mexico. Montoya, his lieutenants, and another dozen members were killed in a shootout near Las Cruces during a drug shipment intercept.

Attorney Bertrand Adams was disbarred and lost his license to practice in Colorado and Washington; he was evaluated as non-violent and was sentenced to fifteen years in a minimum security prison. Ten years of that sentence was suspended for cooperation as a key witness. He applied for and was granted a new identity under the witness protection program. He entered a Bhuddist retreat where he remained for many years until his death.

Molly Brubaker was persuaded to become Alpine-Cascade’s corporate pilot, taking over the King Air twin-engine aircraft received in the award of assets from Alpine-Colorado. She kept her Cessna 180 and hired a local pilot to take over the air ambulance flights. She came to love ferrying her new bosses between the Methow Valley and Denver, and Alpine-Cascade’s other recreation properties.

A very small and private gathering of friends and family stood on a rounded hilltop above the Brightman ranch pastures, under a summer-time backdrop of towering fair-weather clouds. Graydon and Marilee wore ceremonial buckskins; she, her gleaming white dress and he his beaded tan shirt and trousers. A patterned bead-work white leather loincloth matched the beadwork on his headband, gifts from his bride.

Father Ambrose recited the words of a brief, conventional wedding ceremony. Mike “Pasayten Pete” Peterson, Graydon’s guide and mentor, chanted a blessing, an ancient Pueblo prayer for health, peace, and wisdom to grace the joining.

Graydon held his bride; she clasped him tightly back. A nighthawk appeared in the air, gently fluttering above their heads. Everyone was startled to see a small clutch of cottontail rabbits appear around Marilee’s feet. The shades of three mule deer, a mature doe and her two yearling fawns, appeared to stand behind her. Marilee reached down, gathered up the smallest of the cottontails, then reached behind with her other hand. The doe extended her head and placed her muzzle in Marilee’s palm, gently nuzzling her in greeting.