As the Eagle Flies Read online

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Other books by J. D. Oliver

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Back cover

  As the Eagle Flies

  by

  J. D. Oliver

  CCB Publishing

  British Columbia, Canada

  As the Eagle Flies

  Copyright ©2012 by J. D. Oliver

  ISBN-13 978-1-77143-002-9

  First Edition

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Oliver, J. D., 1939-

  As the eagle flies [electronic resource] / written by J. D. Oliver – 1st ed.

  ISBN 978-1-77143-002-9

  Also available in print format.

  I. Title.

  PS3615.L4816 A8 2009 813'.6 C2009-900175-6

  Additional cataloguing data available from Library and Archives Canada

  Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  Extreme care has been taken to ensure that all information presented in this book is accurate and up to date at the time of publishing. Neither the author nor the publisher can be held responsible for any errors or omissions. Additionally, neither is any liability assumed for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the express written permission of the publisher.

  Publisher:

  CCB Publishing

  British Columbia, Canada

  www.ccbpublishing.com

  Other Books by J. D. Oliver

  As the Eagle Flies

  Trego

  Wail Not!

  I Awoke to Silence

  Hope Dies Last

  Chapter One

  I leveled our Twin Engine Cessna off at eight thousand feet, just like the flight plan I had filed said I would. Looking down, I could see Cheyenne shrinking smaller and smaller. Jake and Dad were already asleep in their seats; they had partied pretty hard last night.

  Me? I had consumed my usual two drinks. Dad had hit it a little harder than usual. Jake now, he had sneaked a few when he thought I wasn’t looking. Jake was only l7, and had the usual teenager attitude, you know, they know everything and us oldsters don’t know anything. Yeah he considered me old at 26. Dad wasn’t even old in my sights, he was only 52.

  The plane was handling pretty good, even though we were right at the weight limit. Our saddles and tack were pretty heavy. The three of us weren’t all that heavy, we were all muscle and bone. In our line of work, it kept us right down slim. We were on the Rodeo circuit, had been for the last year.

  Jake rode Bulls and Bareback, he was pretty good, yeah and it was going to his head. I could see trouble in the future if we didn’t get off of the circuit. Dad and I, we team roped. And I rode saddle bronc. I made my ride last night, but the pickup men were slow and I got drilled in the dirt pretty good.

  Jake missed his mark out of the chute on his bareback ride, but won second place money on his bull. Dad and I took second in the team roping. We picked up ten thousand between the three of us. Not a bad night.

  We didn’t pack any horses along. When we team roped we always were able to use someone else’s horses, for part of the purse of course. The other contestants didn’t mind, as long as they got their share. Dad and I were pretty good, we almost always placed in the money.

  Being we had this plane we made a lot of Rodeos. Jake was in fifteenth place and if he kept it up we’d be going to the finals. I was really starting to get worried about Jake, his ego was getting bigger with each win. I can remember Mom telling me that pride always goes before a fall. I sure missed her.

  Mom was a full blood Cheyenne, Northern Cheyenne that was. Dad had married her when she was just sixteen. Dad was a German, on both sides all the way back. Mom had died two years ago, a drunk driver had hit her head on, she never had a chance. Dad had taken it pretty hard, of course us kids did too.

  I guess that’s why we were on the circuit. I was in Iraq when it happened. I came home on emergency leave, my time was almost up anyway. Our place was in the Big Horn Basin. It had been in Dad’s family for over a hundred years. The Oil and Gas people had been trying to get a hold of the ranch for years.

  Dad was pretty well broke up over Mom’s death. Not enough to sell the place to Oil people, but enough to put it in a partial nature conservancy. That way it could never be developed or subdivided. We have caretakers living on it. We bought this plane with the money we got from the conservancy. I guess it was like having your cake and eating it too.

  The next Rodeo was in Santa Fe. I don’t know why I said I would fly at 8,000 feet, it was way to low to get over the Rocky Mountains, so I went up to 15,000, to make sure. Our plane was pressurized and I had made sure we had plenty of oxygen in the tanks. I was a Navy pilot, they sure were pissed when I resigned my commission.

  But hell, it was my decision. You see, it was starting to bother me, I didn’t mind shooting at planes and things that were shooting at me. But when I didn’t know who were in those buildings that I dropped my bombs on, that was what I couldn’t do anymore.

  Besides, Dad and Jake needed me. One thing about this Rodeo business, it kept your mind off of the past, that is, except at times like this, when you were 15,000 feet in the air and the plane was on Auto Pilot.

  I dug out the map. I always liked to know what was below me, just in case. I studied it, looking at any place that a plane this size could land. A person never knew.

  Anytime you flew over the mountains, the turbulence was always worse. It was getting rougher so I took it off auto.

  I looked down, we were just passing over Monarch Pass. The air was crisp and cold. The temperature said it was forty below outside. Of course it wasn’t that cold down there, being it was the middle of summer. But there sure was a lot of snow on those mountains. I sure hoped they were wrong on this global warming thing, but I knew they weren’t. I guess we weren’t helping it any, flying a plane like this.

  It was a good thing that this plane had big gas tanks, so we could get from Cheyenne to Santa Fe without stopping for fuel. The turbulence was getting better, so I checked my settings and put it back on auto.

  Dad stirred and opened one eye. “Where are we?” he asked.

  “Well right now, we’re close to the New Mexico state line. Are you okay? You had about one too many last night?” I said.

  “Yeah, I’m okay. Next time I do that, stop me, alright?” Dad said as he looked around for his hat. Like any old cowboy he just wasn’t comfortable without it being on his head.

  “Don’t worry, I will. The only reason I didn’t stop you last night is, that you really hadn’t tied one on since Mom died. So I figured you had one coming.”

  “Well you’re right about that. Grieving takes awhile. Your mother will always have a place in my heart, but I guess there
is no use in getting maudlin about it, we can’t change things, we just have to learn to live with them.” Dad said, as he found his hat and screwed it down.

  “There’s a bottle of water beside your seat and some aspirin, it should help some,” I said.

  Jake was still sawing logs. I can remember when I was a teenager, I could also sleep for hours. Dad poured some aspirin in his hand and gulped them down with water for chaser. “When do you figure on getting to Santa Fe?” Dad asked.

  “Oh, should be there in under two hours, we’re making good time.” I said, as I felt a little vibration. I checked all my gauges. Everything looked normal, all except the oil pressure on the right engine was just a hair lower than it was the last time I looked. I took it back off auto pilot.

  Dad hadn‘t felt the little quiver. If I hadn’t spent the last few years in a plane, I probably wouldn’t have either. I looked at the map again. There it was again, a little stronger this time, I never looked up from my map. I looked down; we had just passed over Route 64.

  The mountains were on my left, but up ahead I could see a nice valley with the Rio Chama River running along the west side of it. The little town of Abiquiu lay on the southern end of the valley right on the river. I would try for it, they might have a landing strip. Dad had noticed that we were starting a downward glide.

  “Are we getting close to Santa Fe?” he asked.

  Now I never did like to lie, so I didn’t, “Nope, we’re not.” The plane quivered again. I looked at Dad and said, “Did you feel that?”

  “Yep, sure did. What was it?”

  “There’s a problem in the right engine, I’m going to set her down at the first field I find. We can fly on one engine, but I don’t like to. You see the oil pressure gauge, it’s slowly coming down and I don’t want to ruin that engine, but I might have to feather it, I hope not,” I said, just a little wisp of smoke could be seen coming from its cowl…

  “Shit, I guess we don’t have a choice. Get up here in the co-pilot’s seat and look down there, see if you can find a good spot to land,” I said, as I killed the right engine. The plane lurched sideways before I could correct it, but then I got control and straightened it out.

  Jake woke up. “What the hell are you doing, can’t you fly this thing?” he said.

  “Just fasten your seat belt and take that pillow and put your head between your legs, we’re going to have to make an emergency landing.” That shut him up, right quick. He wasn’t as tough as he thought he was.

  Dad said, “I see a place, it’s a might short, it looks like it used to be a strip. See over there by them buildings?”

  I banked the plane a little to get a good look. He was right, it was short, but hell a Carrier deck is shorter than that, but then again a Carrier deck has landing cables and a fighter jet has landing hooks. But what the hell….

  I did one fly by, just to get a good look. I could see a man standing down there looking at us. He started to herd some cows off the grass strip. He was thinking anyway.

  Chapter Two

  I came around and lined myself up, the wheels were down and locked. There was a fence that I would have to clear at the start of the runway. I came in low and as soon as I was just by the fence; I set her down with full flaps and brakes locked. The wheels were throwing sod every which way.

  The man had chased the last of the stock out of our way. I got her stopped just before I ran into the fence at the end of the runway, or I guess I could say pasture. I sure put some grooves the full length of it. I suppose I would have to pay for that.

  I turned around and tapped Jake on the shoulder, “We’ve landed, you’re safe now.” He looked up, his face pale as a ghost. He looked around and didn’t say a word. For a man who could ride a two thousand pound bull, he sure let a little emergency landing spook him.

  As we were getting out, the man who shooed the stock away was walking toward us. He was an older Mexican fellow, with a big smile. “That was a good landing Senor, the Gods must of have been with you. Welcome to the Ranchos de Chama. My name is Miguel.” He said, holding his hand out to shake.

  I took his hand and pumped it, “Thank you for clearing the runway, I’m Clay, this is my brother Jake and this is my father, Karl Bronson. You sure saved our lives.”

  “You’re welcome Senor. Do you want me to get the tractor and put your plane in the hanger?” He said pointing to a large hanger setting on the East side of the runway. I hadn’t even noticed it.

  “Yeah, I guess, sure. That right motor has some problems, do you know of a good aircraft mechanic?” I said.

  “I used to work on the Patron’s airplane, perhaps you would like me to look at it?” he said with a smile.

  I looked at him, closer. He had a twinkle in his eye. Now I knew better than to judge people by first sight; this was a case in point. He was more than met the eye. “Yes, of course I would,” I said.

  He went to get the tractor, it was equipped with an aircraft hitch. He pulled it over and backed it in the hanger. He said, “Perhaps you would like to get your overnight bags, I will take you to the main house and introduce you to the Senora. She will be glad to have you stay with them.”

  “Are you sure, we could just bunk here in the hanger?” Dad said.

  “That would hurt her feelings, you must come to the main house,” he said.

  “Okay, sure, we’ll come, we’re sorry for suggesting otherwise.” Dad said. We retrieved our bags. Jake still hadn’t said a word. There was an old 47 Chevy pickup parked beside the hanger, Dad and Miguel got in the cab, Jake and I, jumped in the back. Jake mumbled, “I guess we’re going to miss that Rodeo in Santa Fe.”

  “I do believe you’re right. But I guess we need the rest anyway.” I said. The main house was a mile up a tree lined lane. This sure was a fancy place. I could see Dad and Miguel laughing and talking in the cab. They seemed to hit it off pretty good.

  The main house was a classic Mexican Villa, in the Santa Fe style. We pulled up and as we were getting out, the main door opened; a women stood there smiling. Miguel said, “This is my wife, Ester. She’s the Home Manager for the Senora. I run the Ranchos.” Turning to his wife, he said, “Ester is the Senora ready to receive visitors?”

  “Of course, she heard their plane land; she is expecting them. Come in please, Juan will take your bags to your rooms.” A young boy appeared and took our bags and hurried off down a cool hallway. The walls in the house must have been three foot thick.

  She showed us into a parlor where a woman was bending over a fancy antique crib. She stood up and turned to face us. She was in her middle forties or so, she said, “Welcome to our home. My name is Felicia Cortez,” she held her hand out, Dad took it and bowed low over it. I couldn’t believe it; I had never seen him do something like that. He kissed the back of her hand, she did a little curtsy. What was more, he had taken his hat off at the first sight of her. Jake and I grabbed our hats off and mumbled a greeting of some kind.

  Dad said, “My name is Karl Bronson, these are my son’s Clay and Jake. She turned to us and smiled. She was beautiful, not that Jake and I were interested, but Dad sure was.

  She said, “My Hacienda is yours as long as you need it, I heard your plane coming from a long ways off and knew you would land here. We’ve already had our noon repast; can I have the cook bring a snack before supper?”

  “Uh, no we’re alright, perhaps just something to drink?” Dad said. She clapped her hands, a young girl scurried in. “Juanita, some ice tea please?” The girl turned and scooted off. Miguel and Ester had disappeared. Felicia showed us to some overstuffed cowhide leather chairs. She settled into her chair like a queen setting down. Which I guess she was; queen of this place anyway.

  The girl came back with a pitcher of ice tea and glasses along with some scones or something. She poured our glasses full. When she passed the bread, both Jake and I took a handful. Dad didn’t.

  There came a whimper from the crib. Felicia said, “Oh, my Grand Daughter is waking up.
She wants fed.” Felicia looked directly at me. She said, “Clay, if you would be so kind, please take the baby to my Daughter-in-law, she will nurse her. It’s down the hallway the second door on the left, just knock lightly and go right in.”

  I was stunned, too stunned to protest. I went over and picked up a four or five months old baby girl, she had dark brown hair, she gurgled at me and smiled. It was strange; I picked her up, just like I had been doing it from her birth. Dad and Jake were staring at me, that’s okay, I was staring at myself.

  I knocked, turning the knob, I went in. There was a young women sleeping in a big old style bed. She had blond hair. I went over and stood beside her, I cleared my throat. “Uh, Miss, your Mother sent me in with the baby, she’s awake.”

  She opened her eyes; they were blue, she looked at me, her eyes focusing. Suddenly she was wide awake. She sat up, “What time is it?”

  “Uh, I believe its somewhere around three in the afternoon.” I said, as she sat up in bed. She had on a light night gown, open at the throat. “Shit, she let me sleep too long again. Alita was colicky all night; I guess I was just tired out. Here, give her to me.” She said as she opened her night gown. It fell off of her shoulders, exposing both breasts! She didn’t even blink. Alita locked on to her left breast, sucking mightily. “My name is Faith, what’s yours?

  “It’s Clay, look I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be in here, but your Mother sent me in. I guess I was just too surprised to protest. Besides, when I picked the Baby up, it, it just seemed like she was mine, weird huh?”

  “My Mother-in-law, not my Mother. Her son, my husband was killed along with her husband in a plane crash about a year ago.” She was looking at me with a small smile on her face; as her eyes twinkled at my discomfort.

  She glanced down at the baby and then her other breast. “Nice huh?” she said, indicating her right breast. “They sure are bigger with all of this milk.”