A Three Hour Tour
written by:
Prybar

Harry wasn't a friend in the traditional sense, but he was a decent guy. I had purchased, from a lady lawyer, the 40 acres off the corner of his land that he once sold when he needed the cash. My driveway, such as it was, crossed his land, and he honored the agreement and let me actually use it, which is not a given in the state of Wyoming. He owned a few hundred acres, and ran his horses and a small herd of cattle on that land while he worked in town to make an actual living. His plan was to sell the whole property when he retired and buy a smaller place just big enough for his horses.

When the gas leases on my property had been paying off for a few years, I bought his land, and he retired, and we were both happy. He got the money to live on, and I got no new neighbors moving onto his land to mar my view, which made me real happy. The small home I built was comfortable, and the view up the valley was serene. I started a small herd of buffalo on the land, planted bushes around the wellheads so that no one would have to look at them, and then sat down on the deck with a bourbon to enjoy my view.

So when Ralph from the gas company asked my permission to drill on my new piece of land, I quickly agreed. The eight new gas wells would pay me a fortune. I set Harry up with some of that income. I thought it only fair. He didn't object. And I still had more money than I could spend in a lifetime. So at 45 I was done with working and set with money, and I had time on my hands.

So I traveled some, wrote, took courses at the local junior college, and eventually volunteered at the high school tutoring science and math. That's how I ended up assisting the girls' soccer coach. The boys' football and baseball teams got all the attention, with the girls' teams a distant second, but the soccer coach was good and the team competed well around the state. Without making a big fuss about it, I donated the two 9 passenger vans we used to travel to the games, and I enjoyed the experience.

The end of season tournament was in Gillette that year, and we were seeded third, and since we had finished strong we went into the tournament very confident. Then Cindy got hurt.

We were in the last two minutes of the second half of the semi-final, leading two goals to one, and Cindy went up for a header on a corner kick, and the defender went for her legs instead of competing for the ball. Cindy went upside down in the air, and came down on her hands. She broke both wrists. We were in the final, but without Cindy, our chances plummeted. Cindy needed to fly to a larger hospital in Denver that could do a proper job at the surgery to repair those two wrists. And she didn't want to.

Cody is a small town steeped in tradition. They don't much like outsiders, and they sure as hell don't like folks from California. Even among the established long term residents, there is a stratified society. A few old families run things, like they always have, and the rest of the locals are tolerated. New residents, especially if they are from California, are viewed like lice.

I was a new resident, and I was from California. Cindy was from one of the elite old families. In the year and a half that I'd been helping out the soccer coach, she had spoken to me twice. Rudely. Cindy was a spoiled, snippy little brat when I tutored her in algebra back in her sophomore year, and she was a spoiled, snippy bigger brat as a senior.

The docs in Gillette had put temporary casts on her arms, and Cindy demanded to be driven back to Cody, to her family. Daddy would fly her to Denver in his own plane. And guess who got to drive the van, with Cindy, back to Cody. She of course, didn't want to wait while the team played the final without her. Spoiled little shit only cared about Cindy. Those casts extended down from almost her shoulders, around her bent elbows, to wrap over her hands, and she couldn't do anything with her arms or hands. Her teammates had to get her dressed and help her to the bathroom. She couldn't climb up into the van by herself. She couldn't even brush a wisp of hair off her forehead. So she was one whiny shit for the first hour of our drive, until blessedly, she fell asleep.

Two roads cross the Bighorn Mountains. The one to the south wiggles and turns its way through the mountains and eventually turns back north to get to Cody. The northern route is the straighter, higher, and more direct route. Much higher. And the clouds told me as I approached that the weather, ie the snow, would be up there. So guess which one Cindy insisted we take? Oh well...it's only three hours longer to reach Cody. Oh, I tried to talk her out of it, to take the lower elevation road, but she was the Wyoming native, with the wisdom of an eighteen year old, and I was just some idiot, and I had better listen to her. So we set out on our version of Gilligan's three hour tour.

We headed up the northern route. The first bit was wonderful. I'd done it before, and it was heart stopping beautiful. We climbed higher with each switchback, and the trees eventually thinned with the altitude. Jagged snags of weathered trees posed before rock outcroppings. The first high altitude plateau was spectacular, but snow was already falling up there, and it was sticking on the ground. And Cindy decided she needed to go to the john.

"I told you to go before we left."

"I need to go pee!"

Looking around as I drove, I saw trees and mountains and gorgeous open meadows, but not a lot of bathrooms. The heights of mountains are that way. Eventually, we passed a picnic area, and across the parking lot I could see the green painted concrete block building housing a vault toilet. I pulled into the lot, leaving tracks on that first few inches of new snow. I checked the door. Un-locked. Good for that.

Back at the van, I helped Cindy climb down out of the passenger seat. We were completely alone up on that mountain, for all the sane folks left when the snow was forecast. I waited to see how this angry young woman was going to cope with this. She marched off toward the door to the toilet.

The view of this lady from the back was interesting. She had long legs and moved well, in an athletic young woman kinda way. She wore the team warm-up pants and the short sleeved jersey that her friends could get on over those two casts on her arms. Her arms frozen in casts poked forward, giving her the look of a demented forklift. Snow fell as she walked across the parking lot.

Cindy managed to grasp the door handle between the ends of her two casts, and she disappeared inside. I waited at the van. Five minutes later I heard the scream. Wandering over to the door, I inquired.

"Are you OK in there?"

"Go Away!"

"Hey...you screamed. What would you like me to do...ignore that?"

"I can't get my pants down."

"Yeah, I figured. You want some help?"

"Fuck you, you pervert. I'm not letting you near me."

"OK, fine. Have a nice time in there."

Another three minutes....

"SHIT!!!"

"Congratulation."

"No! I can't do this. Those fucking doctors made these casts so I can't use my hands. I can't go to the bathroom. And I really need to go."

"Yeah, well that's what happens when you break your wrist. They can't let you move your hand or you'll hurt yourself worse."

"How the hell do you know?"

"Well, that's how it worked when I put casts on broken wrists. Didn't figure it had changed much since then. Reminds me of a story. Ever hear of a guy named Walt Garrison?"

"No."

"Well, ole Walt played football for the Dallas Cowboys back around 1970. He was pretty good. Walt also liked rodeo, and in the off season you could find him riding broncs and such. One year he got thrown and when he landed he broke both his arms. Kinda like you. Two big casts. I saw him interviewed on TV, and the guy asked him about living with those two casts. Walt said it was hard, but the worst part was going to the can. Said he really needed help with that. Said that's a good way to find out who your friends really are."

"I wasn't even born in 1970."

"Nope, knew that. But some things never change. I'll help you out here, if you'll let me. Otherways, I guess you're on your own. Let me know."

A few more minutes passed. Finally, she yelled out.

"Please help me..."

"I'm right here. Here's how this can work...You turn around and face the wall. I come in and without looking at you, I drop your pants and then I leave. When you are done you stand up, face the wall again, and I'll get you dressed. I promise I won't look at you and I won't touch anything I don't have to. OK?"

"K"

I eased the door open and walked into the smelly room. Cindy stood next to the white plastic toilet seat, facing the wall. I touched her on the shoulder, and she jumped. Then I let my hand slide down her back so I wouldn't surprise her again, and then around her waist until I could pull the string at the front of her pants, popping the bow knot. Then I tugged down her warm-up pants. Her panties dropped next, down to her knees. And then I left.

Minutes later, the "I'm OK, come on in" came from within. And I walked into the room. Cindy stood facing the wall. Couldn't help but notice her shapely white naked ass topping those muscular legs. Her pants were crumbled at her knees. I bent down to pull up her panties, my nose next to her bare butt. Then I pulled up the pants and tied off the bow. Then I turned and walked out. She followed in silence. A thank you might have been nice, but I didn't expect one.

After I helped Cindy climb into her seat, I walked around and got into the driver's seat. I checked my phone...no signal. Then I turned to face her.

"I think we should think about heading back down the way we came. This snow could get pretty hairy up higher, and we have a ways to go before we lose any altitude on that other side of the mountains."

"No! I want to go home!"

"Suit yourself. "

I headed west. There were no tire tracks anywhere in the fresh snow. And it would be dark in an hour. The snow fell with a purpose now, and the wind picked up. Small drifts were forming on the pavement behind any small projection. We passed the open gate near the store and headed uphill toward the higher plateau. It soon turned into a whiteout. Then I ran into that three foot drift that formed behind the embankment adjoining the road. We stopped halfway through it. And I couldn't back out. We were stuck.

"What are you doing? Get me out of here."

"In my pickup with four wheel drive and snow tires, sure. No problem. With this boat I don't think so."

"Well, what are you going to do?"

"Give me a minute, OK?"

I climbed out to assess the situation. The front tires were off the ground as the van perched on top of the drift. And the rear wheels sat on snow so they got no traction. I took out floor mats and towels and stuck them under the rear tires. And then I was able to back off the drift.

But there was to be no u-turn with that long vehicle on the narrow road, so in the gathering dark I began backing down the road. I managed a half mile before backing off the pavement into a small parking area. A quarter mile to the north, nestled in small pine trees, sat a dark brown cabin.

"Stay here. I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?"

"I see a cabin. I'm gonna see if anyone is home. We need a place to spend the night."

"Don't you dare leave me alone out here. My dad is a powerful man in Cody, and he can make it so you never work in town again. You better do what I say."

"Yeah, I've heard that about your dad. From you, in fact. Remember when I was tutoring you in algebra? You threatened me the same way. What did that get you?"

"I don't remember...."

"Sure you do. I didn't pay you any mind, and I just kept teaching you, and what did you get for a grade in algebra that year?"

"I got a B."

"Yep, not bad since you were failing that class. And you got to keep playing soccer as I recall."

"OK so what. I can still make your life miserable."

"Oh yeah, you're workin' on that. But your dad can't stop me from working in Cody cause I don't work in Cody."

"What do you call your job teaching at the school, and this job helping coach?"

"I call that volunteering. I don't get paid. I don't need to get paid. I do this for fun. You know, like the fun I'm having right now."

Total silence met that response.

I wandered off through the snow. It was coming down by the truckload, and that little creepy fear thing was trying to climb into the back of my head. Listening to that little twit of a girl might just have gotten us into more trouble than I could handle.

Of course no one was in residence, and the front door was locked. But the windows hadn't yet been shuttered for the winter, and they were the fifty year old simple swinging latch kinda window that was easily opened with the pocket knife that lived in my pocket. I landed on my shoulder on the floor inside. And after latching the window again, I began to take inventory.

The electricity was still on, cold water ran from the faucet in the kitchen sink, and the propane stove worked. An old wood fired stove sat in the corner. And a nice pile of dry firewood stood beside it. I had already spotted the larger firewood pile outside, nicely covered with an old tarp. We'd have heat and water, and yeah, those cans of beans and spaghetti in the cabinet. And in the drawer, in the bell jar, sat nice dry matches. Within minutes a fire was crackling.

Back at the truck, I invited Cindy to join me in the cabin. Her attitude seemed improved. How much I couldn't tell, but I didn't mind the change. I grabbed our duffle bags and we slogged through the deepening snow toward the cabin.

Looking back at the van, I noticed the pile of snow that had already settled on the roof. This was gonna get ugly before it stopped.

"Whose cabin is this?"

"No idea."

Cindy was stomping the snow off her shoes in front of the crackling stove, which was already tossing heat around the small cabin.

"I'll leave a note when we leave, with my phone number and a thank you and a hundred dollar bill, and I think they will forgive us."

"This is kinda neat. Is there any food?"

"Not gourmet, but it'll do. And there is a bed in there for you, and I can crash out her in the chair so I can keep the fire going all night."

"You're going to sleep in a chair?"

"Well, this place is weather tight, but it ain't the Waldorf Astoria. I'll be fine."

She just stared at me for a moment. And then she plopped down into the rocking chair in front of the fire and I lost her as she slipped inside her head. I went outside for more firewood, and hauled a double armload inside. That would do for the night. A pile of snow had built on my shoulder in just the few minutes I was outside. Cindy stared at me when I came back inside.

"It's really snowing out there, isn't it?"

"Yeah...Let's stay in here tonight."

I smiled at her, and she smiled and nodded back.

I made dinner from two cans of beans and one of spaghetti with sauce mixed together, and some garlic powder I found next to the bourbon bottle. Oh yeah, I found the bourbon. It was cheap, but it was good. I had to feed Cindy onna count of those casts, and she was hungry. I washed out the pan in the sink. The water was cold as ice. I figured to let the faucet dribble all night lest it freeze. Seemed prudent.

It had been a long day, and Cindy was yawning. I showed her the bathroom, and helped her with her pants again. Her butt looked just a nice. Cindy made the suggestion that I pull off her pants completely for the night so she could go to the john by herself.

"Are you OK with that? I'll just be out here in the chair. I was going to leave a light on so we don't stumble around in the dark, so...ya know, your privacy might be compromised, if you get my drift."

"It's OK Frank. Not like you haven't already seen what I got. You did peek, right?"

"Just a little."

"Well, then don't worry about it. I've been a complete asshole, and I think I found out who my friend really is. I need to do two things here. First, I want to apologize for being a jerk, and second...I really want to thank you for everything you've done for me. I know this hasn't been easy, and I made it much harder on you. So if you happen to peek while I'm walking to the john, well consider it partial payback, OK?"

"I won't peek. Promise."

"Yeah, right."

So this time I pulled her pants all the way down and off her feet, one leg at a time. And I closed the door when I left so she could have her privacy. Of course that meant I had to open it to let her out. She pranced right past me, wearing that short-sleeved jersey and noting else but her socks. The shirt covered her navel, and not much more. Her dark bush was in full view. She flopped into the bed, and I pulled the covers over her as she lay there on her back. She didn't even try to cover herself. So I was presented with a neatly trimmed bush and a tidy set of pussy lips with a prominent clit up front. Her thighs were slightly spread into what I normally would have interpreted as an invitation. And I turned and walked out of the room.

My chair wasn't comfortable, but I slept like a baby. Twice I added wood to the fire, and once Cindy tiptoed across the room to go to the john, and I pretended not to watch as each step flashed young pussy. Wind rattled the small cabin a few times during the night, but not as much as that young woman passing by in the night rattled me. Sometime after midnight it settled down (the wind). I couldn't see much out the window, but every time I looked it was still snowing. It stayed nice and warm in the cabin.

I was staring out the window at dawn when I felt a presence behind me. Cindy stood there in her shirt.

"Jeez...look at that. The fucking van is buried."

"Oh hi. Good morning. Yeah, it snowed all night and right now it sure doesn't look like it's slowing at all."

"We'd be dead out there."

"Oh probably not dead, but certainly uncomfortable. Coffee?"

"Ugh, yes!"

I had found her a drinking straw so she could sit at the table and drink by herself. I was poking around the meager food stores.

"We have a choice for breakfast... Let's see, we have beans and spaghetti, or I found some pancake mix that only needs water. And we still have water. We even have a small bottle of fake maple syrup."

"Oh, pancakes sound great. I'd cook them but, you know."

"Sit and enjoy my child. I do the best pancakes ever."

While the fire crackled and popped, I sipped coffee, fried up pancakes, and stole the occasional glance at Cindy, who still wore only that brief shirt. When the stack was built, I carried it over to the table, set two cakes on each of our plates, and commenced feeding her. She wasn't sitting right up against the table, so I got brief glances down between her thighs, which she continued to leave wide open, greatly enhancing my view.

We had nearly cleared her plate when she moved as I was approaching her mouth with a forkful of pancake. A dollop of syrup fell onto her left breast.

"Oh ick! Wipe it off please. I don't want dried syrup on my jersey."

"Uh, that's gonna be hard..."

"Hell Frank, just do it. Please?"

How do you rub pancake syrup off a tit without rubbing a tit? Dilemma. I tried to grab the bottom hem of the shirt, down near those bare thighs and the treasure between, without touching any skin, and by pulling the fabric taunt I might rub without violation. Didn't work. Or I could pass my hand up under the shirt, over the breast, and then press the fabric of the shirt against my hand without letting hand settle around breast. Or I could run screaming from the building to die in the frozen snow.

So I ran my hand under her shirt, and I was rubbing away legally, and Cindy decided she needed to look over her right shoulder at the stove, and thus she pushed her left breast into my hand. It was soft and full and would have made for a fine way to spend a snowy wintery morning, except that wasn't what I was there for.

"I'm sorry. I am trying to do this thing right, ya know. But you are not making things easy. You don't have any pants on, and now you rub your breast against my hand. What's happening here?"

"Gee Frank. I didn't think you were noticing."

"I'm old, Cindy. I ain't dead."

"Yeah, I noticed."

I followed her eyes and they were locked on my crotch, and my friend down there was having a lively morning. I was thinking there was no way I was getting out of this one, no how.

"Frank...is there any way I can get cleaned up in this nice place? I haven't had a shower since Thursday, and I played a full game yesterday before they locked my arms up in these chains. I stink. Surely you've noticed."

"Actually, no. I haven't noticed anything. I can heat some water and we can bathe you sorta like. I don't think I can do your hair though."

"Gawd, anything would help."

So I filled the big kettle with cold water from the tap and set it on top of the wood stove. It didn't take long to heat up. I found the porcelain basin that the owner of this cabin must use at such times and set it in the kitchen sine. There were towels and washcloths in the john. So I poured hot water into the basin, and lathered up a washcloth to wash Cindy's face. Figured I couldn't get into too much trouble with that. She came over to stand beside me in the kitchen.

"Oh, you're getting my shirt wet. You better take it off before we go any further."

"Take off your shirt?"

"Well, yeah. What are you afraid of? I have a sport bra on. It's just like a bathing suit."

Oh, well that was different. I guess. I pulled the shirt up over Cindy's head and then wiggled it off those rigid arms. She stood there in her sport bra, and a pair of socks. Smiling at me. I finished washing her face and neck and tried to do her arms and armpits. The bra was in the way.

"You might as well take it off, you know. Can't you see that I want you to?"

"No, I'm not going there. This is getting out of hand. There are rules about this sort of thing, and we be busting them left and right."

"Hey...I'm eighteen and can decide for myself what's OK or not, and I just asked you to take off my bra. No...I insist. Take off my bra!"

I glanced up for guidance, but nothing was written on the ceiling to help me out. The thing had a small zipper in front, between her breasts, and that's where I undid it. I tried to hang on to the cups but they slipped from my fingers and sprang open. Two lovely breasts spilled out.

"Wow, thanks. I haven't had that thing off since Thursday. It gets a bit much if you wear it all the time."

I was facing two very nice tits that really did look happy about leaping out to face the day. Her nipples were taunt and pink. She raised her arms over her head. I'd be lying if I said my heart wasn't racing as I finished bathing her arms, and the next step had to involve areas generally withheld from view. I did a quick wipe down of Cindy's back, and then stood in front of her. My washcloth was hot and wet and slippery with soap and her breasts loved that attention. Cindy's eyes closed and her mouth opened slightly, and a soft gasp escaped. I rinse out the cloth and wiped the soap from her tits and she murmured again.

The thighs came next. I knelt before Cindy on the dusty wooden floor, her neatly trimmed bush right there in front of my face. The cloth in my hand slid up and down, outside and finally inside her thighs. She spread her legs expectantly. Her pussy lips parted slightly. I could detect the scent of woman as I knelt before her. I freshened the cloth, and wiped down her legs again.

Then there was no place left to go but deep between her legs, up until I was against her pussy, and then back and forth to get things clean. I felt her knees buckle a little.

"Oh Gawd! That feels so good! Don't you dare stop."

I watched my hand rubbing her pussy with the washcloth, back and forth along her slit, one finger probing deeper and then riding over her clit. I looked up past her breasts to her face, looking down at me through closed eyes. Her smile morphed into a grimace and then her head lolled back, and louder moans escaped her mouth. I rinsed away the soap, but didn't stop rubbing. Dropping the cloth I substituted warm fingers and she welcomed them inside her.

Panting now, she raced toward an apogee and then cried out with that success. When Cindy stopped twitching, I stopped rubbing. She did enjoy that brief squeeze of her left breast. The she spoke.

"Don't you need a bath too?"

"Yeah, probably do."

"I'd do it myself, and it would be fun, but I seem a bit inconvenienced right now." She was looking down at the casts on her arms.

"So...I guess you will have to do all the actual work. I'll tell you what to do. First...you need to take off that old shirt."

I reached for the buttons and one by one they opened. I shrugged my shoulders and the flannel shirt slipped off and fell to the floor. I watched Cindy's eyes watching me. I'm an old guy now, but since I no longer work 60 hours a week I work out daily, and I'm in pretty good shape. This helps during elk hunting season and it wasn't hurting here.

"All right...time to wash your face and neck. Get to it."

Standing there naked, she smiled as she told me what to do, and as I obediently followed her direction. Cindy ordered me to wash my arms, and then with a lick of her lips she had me wipe down my chest.

"Take special care on those nipples. Let's see you rub em some more. That's good. Feel OK when you do that?"

I smiled at her. Then I rinsed off, with special attention to my nipples. Cindy leaned in to rub the tip of her nose against one of them, and then slowly opened her mouth and sucked one in as I watched. One of her nipples dragged across the sensitive skin of my chest. That was not the worst time of my life.

"Now...the pants. Lose them."

Again her eyes followed my hands as they went to my belt. I got the button and dropped my zipper. Then down they went. I took the boxers with, not waiting for the order. She didn't seem to mind. My cock was about half hard, and he stood out in front. Cindy went to reach for him, but then felt the cast on her arm holding her back.

"Damn! Well, wash him up for me, would you? Nice hot water, and plenty of soap. Yeah, like that. Stroke him up and down, and squeeze the base. Yeah. See how he gets bigger? Isn't that fun? Now, with just your hand, let's see you jerk off. Not too long, now. We don't want to waste him. Tickle your balls. Yeah. OK, that was fun. Please rinse him off for me. Good job."

I soon had a nice clean, full erection. Cindy stood before me naked and smiling. When she went to her knees before me I actually trembled. Without her hands, she had to chase down my cock with just her mouth. That was fun. When she caught up to him, it became even more fun. Her lips were warm and wet, and she sucked him in. Moving her head, my guy went back and forth, in and out of her mouth, her lips riding over the sensitive skin and her tongue caressing the hungry tip. It felt darn good, and I couldn't help letting out a little groan. She stopped sucking long enough to look up into my face, and smile.

"Oh, you like that. Anything else you like more?"

"Well, I'm not gonna say more, but I can think of a few things I'd like to do to you."

"Ahhh...I can live with that."

"Is there still a bed in your room?"

"Last time I looked. Let's go see."

Cindy walked backwards, naked save for her socks and those two blue full arm casts. She was a beautiful young woman, 18 years old, lean and athletic, and built. Oh, and did I mention...eager?

I pulled the blanket and top sheet down to the foot of the bed, figuring we wouldn't need either. Cindy backed up until she hit bed and then sat. I gave a gentle tap to her shoulder, and she plopped backwards until she lay there, arms held over her head and legs slightly spread. Fucking gorgeous, in every sense of the words.

I was similarly naked, save for the casts on the arms. I leaned over Cindy and kissed her.

"I can't believe I won't even be able to hug you. This will drive me crazy."

"Girl, if you need a hug, you just tell me. I'm gonna do guy things to you for a while, but if you need some girl stuff, just let me know."

I kissed her again, and she moaned. When my hand settled on her breast she moaned again. I gave her a hug just for appearances. Then my lips settled on a nipple and they played there for a bit, until my hand found its way down to the soft, hot, wet, between her thighs. She forgot all about hugs about then. I wet her clit with her own juices, and lightly stroked her to the heights. A bit more pressure in the right places drove her there again. She squirmed on the bed, helpless to use her arms as if I had applied the handcuffs to the bedposts. Oh sure, she could have hammered my head if she didn't like what I was doing, for those casts were rock hard, but she didn't seem to mind. When my tongue replaced those fingers, she simply had that much more fun. Helpless to do anything but receive pleasure, Cindy writhed on the bed, crying out, moaning, twitching, and arching her back. I was enjoying myself, and she hadn't left yet, so I decided to try the old traditional girl on her back, guy on top and cock stuck into pussy trick. No surprise; it worked too.

I moved up until my cock probed at her waiting pussy. I watched him slip into her, and then I played in there a while. She lay naked and luscious on her back, those two blue casts above her head and her breasts shifting back as I drove into her. Cindy cried out yet again, and then began grunting in time with my thrusts. Her arms helpless over her head, I made sure to hug her, and nuzzle her neck, and kiss the heck out of her. She went totally nuts.

It began to settle into my head that this old guy was fucking the heck out of a willing beautiful horny young lady, and I was feeling real good, and pretty soon that ole burn began in my groin, and my pace picked up, and I began grunting into Cindy's ear, and that drove her even wilder until we both figured to explode, and since I held the trigger, I took care of the exploding part. I blew my load deep into her as she wailed into my ear, and I lay upon her gasping and trembling, and she panted and glowed and then smiled that wicked crazy smile, and I knew I had done good.

We slept a bit, and then found out that I could repeat much of what had transpired before, and she urged me on. Eventually, I had to rely on tongue and finger, but that sufficed. Hours passed. We slept some more. Then I heard the sound of a snowmobile. I quickly dressed Cindy, and then myself. Just in time.

The knock on the door found us sitting in chairs by the fire.

"Good afternoon. Welcome to the Bighorn National Forest. I'm ranger Matrick, and I'm thinking you'd be Frank Cummings and Cindy Sheridan?"

"You have that one right. Somebody called when we didn't show up, right?"

"Yeah. Ole Gowdy has had a lot of folks invite themselves into his cabin over the years. Thought I might find you here."

"Sorry about this, but it was getting kinda hairy out there. I figured to leave him a note of thanks and a hundred bucks. Thought that might smooth things over."

"Make it two hundred and you'll be fine. Gowdy don't care, really. He wouldn't want you freezing out on the road. And I don't give a shit as long as I don't have to write up a found body report. Those are a pain in the ass."

He was smiling when he said it, so I took it in the spirit he intended. I was happy not being a frozen stiff too.

"The plow will be here in a few hours, so if you want to go east you can get out tonight. To go west to Cody, you best leave in the morning. I trust you have enough here to keep you going until then."

Cindy beat me to it.

"We are doing fine sir. Mr. Cummings has been taking very good care of me. He really has been a special friend. Thanks so much for your help. Can you call my mom so she can stop worrying? That would be a nice thing."

"Don't worry young lady. That's first on my list. They have been inquiring all night, if you get my drift."

"Sorry"

"That's OK. Part of the job."

"Thanks for stopping by."

That would be me. I did want to thank the guy, and was glad he'd let Cindy's folks know she was OK. We listened as the snowmobile drove away. I was in no real hurry to leave once I knew we wouldn't be spending the winter in that cabin. Cindy and I would leave the next morning. We'd have beans and spaghetti one more time, and fuck our brains out that night, and then drive to Cody in the morning. This is what ya call a happy ending in the story business. It would cost me an extra C-note to make the cabin thing right, but I figured Cindy's father would make it good. He did. And I got to stay in Cody.