Monday morning, shortly after 7:00 a.m.: Ft. Peck Indian Reservation

Red Feather drove throughout the night, making a couple of stops for gas and to stretch his legs.

Lindsay was sitting in the back seat with Yellow Wolf, who was still in pain, but stable, laying quietly with his head in her lap while she stroked his hair.  She grabbed an old Grateful Dead t-shirt and packed a few quick things before they headed out.

Yellow Wolf’s wound had stopped bleeding; the cut was not as deep as she originally thought. Still, she would call Ellie soon. She would stitch him and administer anti-biotics.

“Pull over to the side of the road,” Lindsay said.

“Why?”

“I need to make a call,” she said. “Give me Matty’s burner phone.”

“Why do we need to stop?”

“Because I don’t want them to triangulate the signal while we are on the move. They may be able to determine our direction.”

Red Feather handed her the phone.

“Who are you calling?” Red Feather asked.

“FBI Agent Andrews,” she said. “He needs to know about this right away.”

“Are you crazy?” Red exclaimed. “The FBI is in on it.”

“Jackson told me the FBI had a mole,” she said. “We found him.”

“What if there are others?” Red Feather asked. “Moles, I mean.”

“If there are, Andrews is not one of them. I’d bet my life on it.”

“You may be doing just that.”

“Look, Red. Andrews is an ass hat, but he is an honest ass hat. He helped Jackson when he needed it.”  Lindsay hit the send button.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Red Feather said.

“That makes two of us.”

When Andrews answered, Lindsay took him through the story.

“Jesus Christ,” Andrews said. “You said you had our agent’s ID.  Who is it?”

Lindsay looked at the picture and the name on the ID, “It’s Agent Lee Michaels.”

“Michaels,” Andrews replied. “That name sounds familiar.”

“I suggest you become a lot more familiar with it,” Lindsay said.

“You stay put,” Andrews said. “I’m sending a team in right now.”

“We are already on the move,” Lindsay said. “Not to be paranoid, but I’m paranoid. I can’t exactly trust the FBI right now.”

“After what you were just through, I can’t say I blame you, but you can’t run from a crime scene like that,” Andrews said. “It’s a felony.”

“As a famous man once said, ‘I’d rather be judged by twelve than carried out by six.’”

“Lindsay, you could be in danger,” Andrews insisted. “Let me put you into protective custody.”

“I have two former Navy SEALS with me and a place to stay where no one will find us,” Lindsay detailed. “Why don’t you get out to the house and find out who was with this Agent Lee Michaels. Maybe that will lead you somewhere. I have to go.”

“Lindsay, wait,” Andrews pleaded, but she had hit the end button. She turned off the phone and removed the battery then rolled down the window and tossed the phone into a field next to the highway.

“Where to?” Red Feather asked.

“Stay on this road for another ten minutes or so,” Lindsay said. “You’ll see signs for Nashua. It’s on the southwest edge of the res. There’ll be a giant red barn to your right. Turn left at the barn onto the dirt road. Follow that road for another fifteen minutes. We’ll run right into the house.”

“What are you going to do now?” he asked.

“I’m exhausted,” she said. “I need to close my eyes for a few minutes.”

She continued to stroke Yellow Wolf’s hair, gently, as though his head was a fluffy Shih-Tzu.  Yellow Wolf had placed his hand on her knee.  His pain had abated, giving way to the euphoric bliss of having the most gorgeous woman he’d ever met stroking his hair.

Lindsay fell asleep holding Yellow Wolf’s head in her lap. The next thing she remembered was Red Feather calling out to her.

“We’re here, Lindsay. At least I think we are. Is this the right house?”

Lindsay opened her eyes again, raising her had to shield them from the bright sun, pounding in through the rear car window. 

“Yes, this is the right house,” Lindsay said, rubbing her eyes.  “Where is Matty?”

“He slipped out into the woods to use the bathroom. He’ll be back in a few seconds. Do you know this girl approaching us?” he asked.

Lindsay looked toward the small house. It was Ska, the Sioux waitress she met at the Roadside Diner when she first arrived at the Ft. Peck Indian Reservation.

“I sure do,” Lindsay said, opening the door and stepping out.

When Ska recognized it was Lindsay, she smiled and bolted toward the car.

“Lindsay!” she screamed. “It’s you.”

Lindsay and Ska hugged.

“Look at you,” Lindsay said, releasing her embrace. “You look incredible.”

“Thanks to you,” she replied. “Why are you here?”

“I need a place to hide out for a day or two,” Lindsay replied, “strictly on the down-low.”

“You came to the right place,” Ska said. “Introduce me to your two friends.”

“This is Red Feather,” she said, “and the big fella walking toward us zipping up his pants is Yellow Wolf.”

“Sorry about that,” Yellow Wolf said, approaching and extending his hand.

Ska raised her eyebrows, “You’ll understand if I don’t shake your hand.”

Yellow Wolf realized what she was talking about and lowered his hand. He flashed a nervous smile.

“Yellow Wolf has been shot,” Lindsay reported.

“I can see that,” Ska said.

“It’s a flesh wound but he’ll need stitches. Can you help him?”

“I’m in school to become a Physician’s Assistant, Lindsay,” she replied. “I’m not a doctor. If he had an ear infection, I’d be all over it. This man needs a hospital.”

“You can do this,” she said. “We can’t go to a hospital.”

Yellow Wolf looked at her, “I won’t tell. I promise.”

Ska peeled away the bandage, “Ok, it doesn’t look bad. Come on, we’ll take care of the wound.”

“Thank you for taking us in,” Red Feather said.

“Any friend of Lindsay is a friend of mine,” she said. “Come on in. Yellow Wolf, the bathroom is down the hall to the right. It has a toilet with running water and a sink with soap. Use the whole bar of soap if you need to. I’ll be there in a minute and we’ll patch you up.”

She looked at Lindsay, smiled and winked.

Lindsay had not been to the small, but comfortable log home, even though she helped Ska buy it.  The cabin was relatively new, less than two years old. The small living area had well-maintained hard wood floors, clean throw rugs and was modestly adorned with simple but tasteful furniture. A thirty-two-inch flat-screen television sat in one corner. The walls were tastefully decorated with beautiful handmade Native American art.

She followed Ska into the bathroom where she treated Yellow Wolf’s arm.

“I can flush the wound and bandage him well,” Ska offered. “I also have antibiotics here. I can’t stitch him but he will be good until you can get him to a real doctor.”

“Thank you,” Lindsay espoused.

“You’re welcome.”

“I love what you’ve done with this place,” Lindsay offered.

“Well, it’s not a Hollywood mansion but I love it here,” Ska replied, beaming. 

“I’m so sorry to drop in on you with no notice,” Lindsay continued. “I wouldn’t do it unless it was an emergency, and unfortunately, it’s an emergency.”

“Nonsense,” Ska said. “You are family. I have a second bedroom but I’ve been using it as a workout room.  There is a pull-out sofa that converts to a twin bed, but all my nautilus equipment will have to be moved. It’ll be cramped. Lindsay can sleep in my room.”

“Where will you sleep?”

“I have a cot in the laundry room,” Ska explained.

“This is your house,” Lindsay said. “I’m not letting you sleep on a cot.”

“Nonsense,” Ska insisted. “I’m not letting the woman who saved my life sleep on a cot. It’s one night.  I’ve slept under far worse conditions, as you well know.”

“Really, Ska, I wouldn’t feel right.”

“Lindsay, please, let me do this for you. I owe you so much. Please, just take the bedroom.”

Lindsay sighed and nodded.  Red Feather walked into the bedroom.

“Matty and I can move the heavy stuff and get the bedroom set up,” Red offered. “I’ll go check it out if it’s ok.”

“Mi casa, su casa,” Ska replied.

Red Feather nodded and headed to the bedroom.

“Ok, big fella,” Ska said, applying the last piece of tape to the bandage. “That should keep you alive a little while longer.”

“Thank you. I’ll go help Red,” he said.

“That’s great,” Ska replied. “I’ll start breakfast.”

“Oh, dammit, I’m so sorry,” Lindsay said. “I should have brought stuff for breakfast. I’m taking our imposition to a different level.”

“Not a problem,” Ska said. “I went to the grocery store yesterday and stocked up.”

Ska and Lindsay walked into the spare bedroom, “Hey boys,” Ska called out, “eggs, bacon and biscuits ok?”

“It sounds wonderful,” Red said. “I’m starving.”

“May I have... two biscuits... with butter?” Matty said, sheepishly, reentering the room.

Ska chuckled, “Sure big fella, I’ll even add jam if you like.”

Yellow Wolf smiled like a small child being handed an ice cream cone.

 “You have to wash your hands again before dinner, though,” Ska added with a wink.

Matty’s smile broadened, “Hey, I need direction on where to place this stuff. You have a lot of equipment. Some stuff may have to be pulled out of the room.”

Ska shook her head in feigned annoyance, “Lindsay, can you help the Hulk figure out where to put the equipment? Red and I will get started on breakfast.”

“Sounds good to me,” Lindsay said.

 

“So, how do you know Lindsay?” Red Feather asked. 

He watched the young Sioux woman moving about in the kitchen. She was the polar opposite of Lindsay. Ska was tall and athletic looking in her shorts and tank top. Her jet-black hair was short and mousy. Her thighs and arms were tight and muscular but not bulging. Tattoo’s covered much of her arms and legs.  It was also hard to not notice the U-shaped tattoo across her chest and cleavage, letters spelling out, ‘Judge Me Not.’

“You don’t know?” Ska replied.

Red shook his head.

“I met Lindsay the day she first came to town looking for Rainhorse,” Ska said. “I was a waitress at the Roadside Diner and meth addict in an abusive relationship.”

“I’m sorry,” Red said.

“Yeah, me too,” she replied. “When I first met Lindsay, I looked like I lived in a concentration camp, all skin and bones. I was at rock bottom.”

“Well, you look great now.”

“Thanks,” she said. “I owe it all to her.”

“How so?”

“A few hours after I first met them at the diner a few years ago, Lindsay and Rainhorse picked me up on the side of the road. I was wandering aimlessly. I was strung out with no money and no place to go.”

“Damn, that sounds tough,” Red Feather said.

“It was. They took me to Neha’s house and called Ellie Limberhand.”

“That makes sense,” Red interjected. “Ellie has helped many a drug addict.”

“She sure helped me, and I was not a very pleasant patient.”

“What happened then?”

“After Rainhorse brought down Tony Apollo and Hank Rattling Thunder, Lindsay and Neha opened the drug rehabilitation center.  They put me up until I was clean, then helped me get a decent paying job at the rehabilitation center. Lindsay sent me to school on her dime.  I got a job as a receptionist at the local 24-Hour Fitness and worked my way up to becoming a personal trainer. I’m also going to school to become a Physician’s Assistant.”

“That’s fantastic, Ska,” Red said. “It shows. You look great.”

“I feel great. I have a home. It’s small, but it’s all mine. I have a great job and I’ve been clean and sober for almost two years now—all because of Lindsay.”