Chapter 5

Later that morning, the hospital quickly came to life. Cady continued her vigil by her father's side, his condition remaining unchanged. Branch was one of the first to call to check on him that morning. His morning had started before dawn. He had just finished a breakfast meeting with the FBI Agent in Charge, Agent Mason, who had arrived in town during the night. He updated Branch on the state of their investigation. Branch was anxious to share the latest with Cady.

A body had been found near a rest stop outside Fairview, Montana. It was a young male in his late teens with a gunshot wound to his upper arm. Initial reports suggest an artery had been hit and he had bled out from the untreated wound. Until they tested Walt's gun, they couldn't be 100% sure it was the same guy that Walt winged, but they were pretty confident it was him. The FBI had alerts at the Canadian Border and also state wide alerts in Montana and North Dakota as well as Wyoming for the other person involved.

Cady didn't react to the news as Branch had expected. He thought she might be at least a little glad that the person who had hurt her father had paid the ultimate price for what he did.

"It doesn't really change anything, Branch," Cady told him, turning her attention back to the prone figure in the bed beside her. "My dad is still lying here, fighting for his life. The fact that the kid who did this is dead doesn't make me feel any better. It's just another wasted life, sad really."

He understood why she thought that way. She was a kind and gentle soul, but Branch was glad that the little punk who put two bullets in his boss had paid the ultimate price. The sheriff had made him pay without even knowing it.

Branch knew he had a busy day ahead of him so he made his excuses to Cady and left her as he found her, by her father's side.

He had arranged with Henry to take their horses out to the Grady homestead and try track the guy who attacked Mrs. Grady. Walt would want him to find the animal who beat on the defenseless woman. The Ferg and Ruby would hold the fort at the office during the morning and Vic would come in later in the afternoon, once she got a few hours sleep. Branch met Henry at the Red Pony and they hitched the horse trailer to Henry's truck and hauled it to the Grady property. There was no one home. They were probably still at the hospital.

They unloaded their horses from the trailer, saddled them up and mounted in relative silence. The conversation had been light on the drive to the property. Henry recalled the last time that he had ridden with Branch. It had been to search for Walt a few years ago after he had gone into the mountains on foot in a snow storm looking for an escaped convict. He had almost died from exposure on that occasion. They found him just in time. At least this time they knew where he was and that he was getting the best possible treatment. This time they were on the hunt for someone else.

Henry had agreed to help Branch out of a sense of duty more than as a favour. Walt would have inevitably asked for his assistance tracking if he had continued investigating this crime, so Henry decided not to make it difficult for Branch. In fact, he admired him, much as it pained him to admit it. He admired the fact that Branch stood up and took over from where Walt had left off. He knew it was what Walt would have wanted under the circumstances.

They had found a trail of boot prints leading away from the barn and heading out towards the meadow on the Grady farm. They followed, heading east. If they continued in that direction, they would find themselves heading into the mountains. With Henry tracking through the tall grass, they soon found themselves starting up into the foothills of the Big Horn Mountains. It was slow progress but they had a definite trail. Hopefully, they could find the perpetrator of this horrendous crime.

All through that day, a parade of people arrived at the hospital to see how Walt was doing. Most were locals who were friends of the family, but no one was allowed in to see him as it was hospital policy of family only in the ICU. However, Cady, ever gracious and appreciative of everyone who called by, made a point of leaving her father's bedside to greet them. The nurse usually tipped her off. The townspeople were very kind and considerate. They brought cards and gifts. Some offered to check on her dad's house, to look after his horse, small kindnesses that meant so much to Cady.

Vic came by again early that afternoon before starting her shift at the office, as did Ruby. Much to Cady's surprise, even Mathias, from the Tribal Police, called by. He and Walt always had a rocky relationship from what she gathered, but he had only kind words and prayers to offer his counterpart's daughter as she continued her vigil at his bedside.

Dr. Weston was on duty that day and he dropped in regularly to check on Walt's condition. He seemed happy that her dad was holding his own and had a good night. His BP was stable and his breathing had much improved. He explained that he would be removing the breathing tube as her dad no longer needed the aid of the respirator. As he did so, he informed Cady that he would also hold off on the sedation at this stage and try wake him up. This brought a smile to Cady's face. The thought of talking to her dad, of hearing him call her "punk" again made her so happy.

She thanked the doctor and when he left, she resumed her station at her father's side. The rest of the day passed agonizingly slowly.

Meanwhile, Henry and Branch continued along a well-worn trail through the trees, leading higher up into the mountain. It was getting progressively steeper and the terrain was growing rougher. Occasionally one of the horses would stumble as the loose rocks slipped under his hooves. They had been in the saddle for almost three hours when, without warning, Henry, who was leading the trek, raised his hand, signalling for Branch to stop. Branch did so.

"What is it?" he asked quietly.

"The trail stops here. It looks like he went up there," Henry said, pointing to a steep incline which led to a rocky ledge. "We should continue on foot," he suggested as he dismounted.

Branch followed suit. He tied his horse's reins to the branch of a tree on the trail. He took his rifle from his saddle bag. Henry did likewise.

"I believe there are some small caves up ahead. He could be hiding out in one of them. We need to be careful. He will see us before we see him," Henry warned.

Branch nodded in agreement as he started up the incline. The loose stones underfoot make for dangerous climbing conditions, but they continued on.

"Do you know if this man is armed?" Henry asked as they climbed.

"We've no way of knowing," Branch replied. "We'll have to assume he is."

"It would be wise," Henry commented.

Their conversation ended there. They reached a plateau which extended back maybe fifteen feet until it met the jagged rock face. They were in the open and were sitting ducks if their suspect had a weapon trained on them. Henry raised his rifle. Branch unclipped his holster and withdrew his weapon. Henry knelt down on one knee and observed a disturbance in the dirt. He signaled to Branch to go to the first of the caves.

They continued on with stealth. Branch stood to one side of the entrance to the cave and put his finger to his lip for Henry to remain quiet. They both listened. There was a sound coming from the cave. It sounded like growling or ragged breathing. Henry was the first to step into the mouth of the cave. The noise suddenly turned to a roar and a large form charged at Henry.

For a second, Henry thought it was an animal and brought up his rifle to fire. But he was stunned to see it was a man, a ragged, bearded, bellowing man. Somehow amid the ensuing chaos, it registered with Henry that the man was unarmed and Henry was not the sort to shoot an unarmed man. Before he had time to react, the man was upon him and he found himself being propelled backwards in the direction of the slope they had just climbed.

Branch reacted to what was happening and trained his weapon on the two men, but he couldn't risk taking a shot for fear of hitting Henry. He was soon regretting his lack of action as the two men tumbled off the plateau and rolled down the steep incline. Branch ran after them, hoping to help Henry. He watched as the two men came to a crunching stop as they bundled into the trunk of a pine tree.

Henry was momentarily stunned and didn't move immediately. However, the feral-looking man quickly got up and tried to make a run for it. He was heading towards their horses when a single shot rang out and he pitched forward. Branch tripped down the rest of the incline and reached the downed man. He continued to struggle despite his wound. Branch easily subdued him by laying him on his stomach and secured him with handcuffs.

"Henry? Are you alright?" Branch yelled back up towards where the Cheyenne lay.

"I will be," he replied, sounding winded and sore.

Henry started to get to his feet gingerly. A sharp pain shot through his wrist and arm when he tried to use it to help him get up. He realized from the malformation of the bone in his lower arm that he had broken his wrist. He cradled his injured limb with this other hand and stumbled down the rest of the slope to where Branch and his prisoner waited. Branch looked at the bar owner, taking in his newly acquired injuries. He was bleeding from a cut above his eye and scratches on his face from the fall. He noted his stiffened posture and how he held his arm.

"Is it broken?" he asked.

"I am pretty sure it is," Henry replied.

"Will you be able to ride?"

"Of course," Henry replied with a hint of a grin. "I am Cheyenne."

Branch laughed the Indian with the wry smile.

"What will we do with this guy?" Branch asked, kicking the cuffed man on his boots.

"You shot him," Henry pointed out. "First, I think you should stop the bleeding."

Branch looked down at the soiled, reeking individual and did not like Henry's suggestion one bit. He certainly didn't want to have to touch this dude. But he knew Henry was right. He couldn't let him bleed out on the mountain, no matter what he had done.

"There is a first aid kit in my bag," Henry told him.

Branch found the kit and opened it up. He handed Henry an antiseptic wipe and a gauze pad.

"Use that on your cut," he advised.

Branch knelt down to the guy he had shot.

"So, do you have a name?" he asked. He got no reply. He pressed the issue. "I said, what's your name?"

The guy just growled like an animal and wriggled to try and shake Branch off him.

"Suit yourself," Branch said, ripping the guys manky shirt to reveal a wound in the back of his shoulder. "Bullet went through," he commented as he poured a little antiseptic onto the wound. His prisoner cried in pain, but Branch continued on. He pressed the gauze onto the wound and taped it. He then rolled the guy onto his front and did the same. He looked into the guys face as he was doing so, and realized that he was younger than he first though. If you removed the shaggy beard and cleaned him up, Branch guessed that he was not much older than himself.

He left the guy lying on his stomach on the ground and turned to Henry who was trying to clean his face up. Branch looked around at the trees and found what he needed. He broke off a branch and then snapped it in two.

"Show me your arm," he said to Henry. "We need to stabilize that break before we head down the mountain."

Henry wanted to tell him it would be fine, but the pain was excruciating so he allowed Branch to take a look. Branch placed the two small branches either side of the injured limb and, using a roll of bandage, he fashioned a crude but effective splint. Henry was grateful for the slight relief it gave him. His ribs on his left side would give a twinge of pain every so often, but he didn't mention it to Branch. There was no point as there was nothing he could do about it anyway.

Branch returned his attention to their prisoner.

"Get up," Branch ordered, pulling the injured guy to his feet. It wasn't going to be easy, but he had to get his guy on a horse.

The nameless guy resisted, but he was weakening from his injury so it didn't take long for Branch to get the upper hand. He eventually managed to push him onto the horse with a little help from Henry. He then assisted Henry to mount also. Branch noticed how he grimaced with the effort and sensed that he was hurting more than he let on. Branch led his horse, with the prisoner in the saddle, down the trail they had taken earlier. Henry followed closely behind. As he walked, Branch called the office on his cell phone. He informed Ruby what had happened and asked that they be met by and ambulance and another deputy at Grady's farm.

It was going to take more than a couple of hours on foot and they were losing light, but Branch continued in the direction home. They plodded onwards, Branch regretting not bringing an extra horse as his feet began to hurt from walking on the rough ground.

He noticed that the prisoner was starting to slump forward onto the horse's neck. He was human after all, Branch realized. He was weak from blood loss and probably in a great deal of pain. Branch stopped the horse and reached into the saddle bag and offered him water. The guy accepted and drank only a few sips. Branch quickly checked the wounds in case he was losing a lot of blood, but he was happy that the bleeding seemed to have stopped.

Henry found the ride uncomfortable as the motion of the horse's stride jolted his tender ribs. But he had to stick it out and get down the mountain. That had to be their priority before darkness fell.

TBC

A/N - apologies for this delay with this chapter. Need to get busy this weekend.