The morning had fallen silent except for the crunch of each step Lyle and Amanda took in the direction of Rocky Ford. The tower of smoke continued to rise behind them in the west as the sun climbed higher into the morning sky before them. They could only be a few miles from town and Lyle's mind turned toward a future that only hours earlier seemed in serious jeopardy. Ninety Days. Ninety days since he had even laid eyes on Maricruz. His chest felt heavy as his heart tried to hold in his anticipation for just a few more hours, and as he peered into that future Lyle longed for her. He hadn't been exactly sure before his truck had slid off the ice whether or not he was really ready to ask Maricruz to marry him. Sometimes he thought he was ready; other times he justified his doubts by deeming himself to be too screwed up for marriage. He'd known that he loved her, but in the early morning clarity he had to admit to himself that so much of his urge to rush ahead of the blizzard to be reunited with Maricruz had been fueled by thoughts of sending Benny off to bed and then ripping off Maricruz's clothes and expressing three months of pent up passion beneath the sheets of her bed. But after all he'd been through that night, that particular urge had been burned off with all the calories and all he wanted now was to be in the same room with her, to smell the peach-mango scent of her shampoo, to feel her smooth hand intertwined with his calloused fingers, to hear her say his name, to get lost in her chocolate eyes, and to devour a towering and syrupy plate of her french toast.
She'd complain about his beard, he knew. "You look like Grizzly Adams," she'd say, and then he'd let Benny watch as he cut it down to the stubble with a pair of scissors and then lather up with Old Spice and shave it till his face is smooth. Someday he'd teach Benny to shave. He'd teach him more than that; he'd teach him to be a man, a man who could avoid the mistakes Lyle had made, a man who'd do things right from the beginning. Maricruz deserved to have a son like that, a son she could be proud of. She deserved a husband she could be proud of too. Lyle had finally come to know that he couldn't be that kind of man on his own. Not only did he need Maricruz and Benny, but he needed Rick too, helping him stay dry one day at a time. Also, he needed Mr. Stockett, who had stuck with Lyle throughout his entire detox and through having to leave early some evenings to make it over to Pueblo for meetings. Mr. Stockett had even promised Lyle a healthy raise and a position somewhere close to a ranch boss as long as he stayed dry. Lyle knew that Mr. Stockett had invested in him because Lyle had a decade more experience than any other hand at the Crazy Snake, because Lyle could solve any damn problem a ranch could throw at him, and because Mr. Stockett had religion, not the kind of religion that casts a man out and leaves him to the devil, but the kind that pulls lost sons-a-bitches like Lyle up out of the drowning water and helps to dry them off. Perhaps more than anything, though, Mr. Stockett had told Lyle that his number one reason for holding onto Lyle was to make sure that Lyle became some kind of father to Savannah. Mr. Stockett didn't go a day without mentioning his own daughter, Stephanie, that he'd lost several years earlier to a sickness that Lyle couldn't even pronounce.
At the end of that few-mile, foot-deep trudge Lyle had life waiting for him, real life for the first time in his thirty-five years, but what would come of Amanda? She had nothing, no one. Her choices seemed to be jail (which might not be a choice at all), being found by that demonic asshole DB, or winding up in foster care for a couple years until she'd be thrown out on the streets again. No wonder she was walking so slow, lagging farther and farther behind him; being hungry, lost, and cold was better than whatever waited in Rocky Ford for her. Lyle stopped and turned back toward her, waiting for her to catch up with him. She was breathing in quick short breaths and she bent over, putting her hands on her knees. "Rest... I need... to... rest... a minute," she said in between breaths.
Lyle was about to say something encouraging to her about how they could rest and how he would help her through whatever might happen, when he heard it. "Do you hear that?" he asked her, cupping his hand around his right ear and pointing it toward the east. "Sounds like engines... It sounds like engines!"
Amanda puffed her cheeks full of air then let it out slowly. "Here we go," she said.
Lyle walked off a few steps and then finally saw where the noise was coming from. "Two snowmobiles," Lyle said. "They're heading our way. They see us! It's over, Amanda! It's finally over." He pumped his fists in the air like a victorious boxer.
"It's over for you, Lyle. Shit's just about to start flying for me. You know that's the cops," she said, pointing toward the snowmobiles.
"Not a chance," Lyle assured her. "The cops in Rocky Ford are lucky to have cars. It's either somebody just out having some early morning fun or more likely somebody who's out here looking for us, looking for me, I mean." Lyle felt bad for how that had come out. "Either way, Amanda, our ride home just arrived."
Lyle could hear Amanda walk up behind him as he kept his eyes fixed on the fast approaching snowmobiles. He jerked around when he felt Amanda's hand trying to pull the gun from his back waistband. "What the hell are you doing, Amanda?" he yelled out, seeing that she hadn't been able to pry it loose before he'd spun around.
"I don't have a home, Lyle!" she screamed. "Why can't you get that through your thick head? Whoever's on those snowmobiles may be good news for you, but not for me. I'm not going anywhere with anybody!"
Before Lyle could respond, the snowmobiles, whose drivers' faces were covered by ski masks and goggles, had circled Lyle and Amanda, seemingly inspecting them, considering whether or not Lyle and Amanda were safe to help... or maybe worth robbing, Lyle thought for a moment, which made him reach his hand back to his waist band, grasping onto the revolver in case he had to scare them off to keep himself and Amanda safe. They circled around again, seeming to concentrate their gaze on Amanda. Lyle took his hand off the gun and reached over, grabbing Amanda by the shoulders and pulling her towards himself, holding her like a mother embraces a scared and crying child. "They've got to get through me to get to you, Sister," Lyle whispered into her ear, surprising himself by calling her "Sister" the way he'd always done with his little sister Lucille when they were kids and even now, when she was willing to take his calls, which wasn't often. One of the snowmobiles cut off and the driver stepped off, motioning to the other driver to do the same, leaving the four of them in silence.
"Lyle!" the first driver called out, walking quickly toward him. "Lyle!" the driver cried out as she ripped her goggles and ski mask off, revealing to Lyle that was Maricruz. "Oh Lyle, baby! Lyle!"
Lyle's heart nearly burst into flames as he let go of Amanda and ran over to Maricruz, pulling her to him and kissing her deeply. Although his lips were so numb he couldn't really feel hers, he inhaled that peach-mango scent he'd thought of only minutes earlier. "You're alive!" she said as she looked him over and ran her hands down his hairy cheeks. "Your alive, baby. Your alive... and just look at you. You look like Grizzly Adams!" She smiled at him. "I knew you were alive. I just knew it. Don't ever do anything this stupid again, okay?" After a another few kisses, Maricruz looked around Lyle at Amanda. "Who's that?" she asked. "Is she safe?"
Lyle had to jar himself back to the present moment, having been lost in the experience of actually--after all this time, after all these miles--holding onto Maricruz. "Her name's Amanda," he said, turning to face the girl as he put his arm around Maricruz, while also seeing that the other driver was Maricruz's little brother Umberto. Lyle nodded his head once toward Umberto, acknowledging him. "She's just a girl," he told her. "Just sixteen. I found her holed up in a stolen car several miles back. She's been through some shit you wouldn't believe, Mari. Been treated worse than a dog, and she's in trouble. None of it's her fault. She needs our help, okay?"
Maricruz studied Lyle's eyes, holding his gaze for a moment. "Okay," she finally said. "I'll take your word for it."
Lyle walked Maricruz over and introduced her to Amanda, who barely looked up from the ground the entire time, then he walked over and shook Umberto's hand, thanking him for helping Maricruz to find him. For a few minutes, Lyle, Maricruz, and Umberto shared bits and pieces of their adventures with one another, with Lyle giving a hardy laugh when Maricruz told him about Umberto's stunt back at the police car. Lyle told them about a dirt road they could get to on the snowmobiles that would allow them to get back into town without having to deal with the young cop. They'd probably see him before too long anyway, asking questions about the abandoned and shot-up stolen Crown Victoria. Although Lyle and Maricruz invited Amanda into the conversation several times, she stayed to herself, surely mulling over what the next day or two might hold for her. Finally, Maricruz instructed them all, "We need to get back home. I bet dad's throwing a fit by now, and you two have to be hungry and cold. Maybe we'll be lucky and the power will be back on by now, and I'll whip you guys up some of my french toast. What do you say?"
"Hell yeah," Lyle smiled, although Amanda still didn't respond.
"Come on," Maricruz said to Lyle. "Let's go. Umberto can take Amanda." Maricruz grabbed onto Lyle's hand to pull him over to the snowmobile.
Lyle looked over to see that Amanda's eyes had widened and her forehead had furrowed into an expression of silent fear. Remembering his promise to her, Lyle said, "No," and pulled his hand away from Maricruz. "You take Amanda and I'll ride in with Umberto." Amanda's face relaxed when she heard that she wouldn't have to wrap her arms around a strange man.
At first, Maricruz acted a bit disappointed and even put off, but Lyle walked up to her and kissed her. "Trust me. This is what's best. I'll tell you her story later. Just do this for me, please."
Umberto restarted Maricruz's snowmobile again for her, and as Maricruz and Amanda rode off toward the southeast to find the dirt road, Lyle turned to get on Umberto's snowmobile, but before he could climb on, he felt Umberto's hand grab onto his shoulder. Even though Lyle was a head taller, had callouses on his hands not from dumbbells but from lariats, and had been known to wrestle more than one steer to the ground, Umberto's muscular grip stopped Lyle in his tracks. There would have been a time in Lyle's life when he would have turned around and decked anyone who had done that without even thinking about it, but things change.
"Before we go anywhere, Lyle," Umberto started in a cocky tone, "I've got something to say to you." Lyle wished Umberto would wait until they were home to spout off on him, but he figured he might as well let the boy speak his peace, seeing as Umberto was all there was between Lyle and a couple more miles of walking.
"Then say it, Umberto," Lyle responded in a voice a little deeper and louder than usual. "I'm freezing and starving and tired as hell, so say what you've got to say so we can get the hell out of here."
Umberto stepped closer to Lyle, bringing him just a couple of inches away. His jaws were clinched and his eyes were slightly squinted. Lyle imagined that beneath Umberto's snow gear he was flexing every overgrown muscle in his body. Umberto had never really warmed up to Lyle, but Lyle understood. After all, no one knew more than Lyle himself how big of a screw up he was, how dangerous it had been for years to have anything to do with Lyle. But Umberto always expressed his disapproval with Lyle within the guise of a young man's machismo that Lyle had surely acted out himself years earlier but couldn't stand anymore. But if Lyle was going to be with Maricruz, to marry her even, then Lyle was going to have to make peace with Umberto.
Lyle decided to temper his own tone by saying, "I'm sorry, Umberto, I shouldn't have--"
"I'm only going to say this once," Umberto interrupted him. "You're a lot of fun, but I think you're a drunk and a screw up, Lyle." He took a deep breath and put his hands on his hips. "But here's the deal: for some unknown reason Mari loves you. Because I love her and because she has convinced us all to give you another chance I'm going to go against my own instincts that say, 'once a drunk screw up, always a drunk screw up,' and give you that chance."
Lyle held out his hand to Umberto, starting to say, "I appreciate--"
But Umberto wasn't finished. Instead of shaking Lyle's hand he interrupted him again, saying, "But I'm going to promise you, promise you, that if you hurt Mari and Benny in any way I will hunt you down and I assure you that you will hurt--I mean really hurt--when I'm done with you." Something about the tone of Umberto's voice and the look in his watery eyes told Lyle that the young man wasn't just puffing himself up and baring his teeth; he really meant it. If Lyle screwed up, he'd receive a beating he'd never forget.
Umberto finally shook Lyle's hand as Lyle assured him, "I'd rather die than hurt Maricruz and Benny. That night when I was with those guys that trashed your parents' restaurant and when I fell down all those damn stairs was the day the old Lyle died. I'm a new man, Umberto. Not a perfect man, but a new man, and as soon as I get a chance I'm going to ask your sister to marry me, to spend the rest of her life with me, and I'd really like your blessing."
"It's not my blessing you need, man. You're going to have to talk to our dad about that, but you can't do that unless we get our frozen asses back to town. Let's get this machine started up and get on the road. I've got some explaining to do with my dad and it sounds like you need to have a conversation with him too."
Umberto leaned over to start the snowmobile again, but before he could, Lyle decided he better ask Umberto one more thing. "Hey Umberto," he asked. "You've got a bunch of musclehead friends in Rocky Ford right?"
"Yeah," Umberto responded. "There's several of us that workout together over in Pueblo but we're all from Rocky Ford. Why?"
"Well you know the girl you just met, Amanda?" Umberto nodded as Lyle continued, "Well, there's a good chance that as soon as the highway opens up that there's going to be a real sick and viscous asshole named DB who's going to be looking for her. He'll kill her or rape the hell out of her if he finds her. I've made a promise to that girl that I won't let anything happen to her. That's a part of me being a new man, keeping my promises. But I may need you and your steroid buddies." Umberto's expression betrayed his disapproval of the reference to steroids so Lyle corrected himself. "I mean, I may need you and your friends to help me intimidate the guy if he shows up or maybe even to put a beating on the guy to teach him not to whore out little girls. You think you and your friends could help with that?"
"Lyle," Umberto said. "You know who you're talking to, right? I'll call my guys when we get back and put them on ass kicking standby. This guy sounds like the scum of the earth. It's not every day you get the chance to beat the shit out of the devil himself, right?"
"Well hopefully it won't come to that, but I appreciate it." The two shook hands again, and then Umberto fired up the snowmobile and the two of them sped off to try to catch up with Maricruz and Amanda. Lyle could hardly believe that he'd be home in less than thirty minutes, but he wasn't sure what all the day might still hold.
She'd complain about his beard, he knew. "You look like Grizzly Adams," she'd say, and then he'd let Benny watch as he cut it down to the stubble with a pair of scissors and then lather up with Old Spice and shave it till his face is smooth. Someday he'd teach Benny to shave. He'd teach him more than that; he'd teach him to be a man, a man who could avoid the mistakes Lyle had made, a man who'd do things right from the beginning. Maricruz deserved to have a son like that, a son she could be proud of. She deserved a husband she could be proud of too. Lyle had finally come to know that he couldn't be that kind of man on his own. Not only did he need Maricruz and Benny, but he needed Rick too, helping him stay dry one day at a time. Also, he needed Mr. Stockett, who had stuck with Lyle throughout his entire detox and through having to leave early some evenings to make it over to Pueblo for meetings. Mr. Stockett had even promised Lyle a healthy raise and a position somewhere close to a ranch boss as long as he stayed dry. Lyle knew that Mr. Stockett had invested in him because Lyle had a decade more experience than any other hand at the Crazy Snake, because Lyle could solve any damn problem a ranch could throw at him, and because Mr. Stockett had religion, not the kind of religion that casts a man out and leaves him to the devil, but the kind that pulls lost sons-a-bitches like Lyle up out of the drowning water and helps to dry them off. Perhaps more than anything, though, Mr. Stockett had told Lyle that his number one reason for holding onto Lyle was to make sure that Lyle became some kind of father to Savannah. Mr. Stockett didn't go a day without mentioning his own daughter, Stephanie, that he'd lost several years earlier to a sickness that Lyle couldn't even pronounce.
At the end of that few-mile, foot-deep trudge Lyle had life waiting for him, real life for the first time in his thirty-five years, but what would come of Amanda? She had nothing, no one. Her choices seemed to be jail (which might not be a choice at all), being found by that demonic asshole DB, or winding up in foster care for a couple years until she'd be thrown out on the streets again. No wonder she was walking so slow, lagging farther and farther behind him; being hungry, lost, and cold was better than whatever waited in Rocky Ford for her. Lyle stopped and turned back toward her, waiting for her to catch up with him. She was breathing in quick short breaths and she bent over, putting her hands on her knees. "Rest... I need... to... rest... a minute," she said in between breaths.
Lyle was about to say something encouraging to her about how they could rest and how he would help her through whatever might happen, when he heard it. "Do you hear that?" he asked her, cupping his hand around his right ear and pointing it toward the east. "Sounds like engines... It sounds like engines!"
Amanda puffed her cheeks full of air then let it out slowly. "Here we go," she said.
Lyle walked off a few steps and then finally saw where the noise was coming from. "Two snowmobiles," Lyle said. "They're heading our way. They see us! It's over, Amanda! It's finally over." He pumped his fists in the air like a victorious boxer.
"It's over for you, Lyle. Shit's just about to start flying for me. You know that's the cops," she said, pointing toward the snowmobiles.
"Not a chance," Lyle assured her. "The cops in Rocky Ford are lucky to have cars. It's either somebody just out having some early morning fun or more likely somebody who's out here looking for us, looking for me, I mean." Lyle felt bad for how that had come out. "Either way, Amanda, our ride home just arrived."
Lyle could hear Amanda walk up behind him as he kept his eyes fixed on the fast approaching snowmobiles. He jerked around when he felt Amanda's hand trying to pull the gun from his back waistband. "What the hell are you doing, Amanda?" he yelled out, seeing that she hadn't been able to pry it loose before he'd spun around.
"I don't have a home, Lyle!" she screamed. "Why can't you get that through your thick head? Whoever's on those snowmobiles may be good news for you, but not for me. I'm not going anywhere with anybody!"
Before Lyle could respond, the snowmobiles, whose drivers' faces were covered by ski masks and goggles, had circled Lyle and Amanda, seemingly inspecting them, considering whether or not Lyle and Amanda were safe to help... or maybe worth robbing, Lyle thought for a moment, which made him reach his hand back to his waist band, grasping onto the revolver in case he had to scare them off to keep himself and Amanda safe. They circled around again, seeming to concentrate their gaze on Amanda. Lyle took his hand off the gun and reached over, grabbing Amanda by the shoulders and pulling her towards himself, holding her like a mother embraces a scared and crying child. "They've got to get through me to get to you, Sister," Lyle whispered into her ear, surprising himself by calling her "Sister" the way he'd always done with his little sister Lucille when they were kids and even now, when she was willing to take his calls, which wasn't often. One of the snowmobiles cut off and the driver stepped off, motioning to the other driver to do the same, leaving the four of them in silence.
"Lyle!" the first driver called out, walking quickly toward him. "Lyle!" the driver cried out as she ripped her goggles and ski mask off, revealing to Lyle that was Maricruz. "Oh Lyle, baby! Lyle!"
Lyle's heart nearly burst into flames as he let go of Amanda and ran over to Maricruz, pulling her to him and kissing her deeply. Although his lips were so numb he couldn't really feel hers, he inhaled that peach-mango scent he'd thought of only minutes earlier. "You're alive!" she said as she looked him over and ran her hands down his hairy cheeks. "Your alive, baby. Your alive... and just look at you. You look like Grizzly Adams!" She smiled at him. "I knew you were alive. I just knew it. Don't ever do anything this stupid again, okay?" After a another few kisses, Maricruz looked around Lyle at Amanda. "Who's that?" she asked. "Is she safe?"
Lyle had to jar himself back to the present moment, having been lost in the experience of actually--after all this time, after all these miles--holding onto Maricruz. "Her name's Amanda," he said, turning to face the girl as he put his arm around Maricruz, while also seeing that the other driver was Maricruz's little brother Umberto. Lyle nodded his head once toward Umberto, acknowledging him. "She's just a girl," he told her. "Just sixteen. I found her holed up in a stolen car several miles back. She's been through some shit you wouldn't believe, Mari. Been treated worse than a dog, and she's in trouble. None of it's her fault. She needs our help, okay?"
Maricruz studied Lyle's eyes, holding his gaze for a moment. "Okay," she finally said. "I'll take your word for it."
Lyle walked Maricruz over and introduced her to Amanda, who barely looked up from the ground the entire time, then he walked over and shook Umberto's hand, thanking him for helping Maricruz to find him. For a few minutes, Lyle, Maricruz, and Umberto shared bits and pieces of their adventures with one another, with Lyle giving a hardy laugh when Maricruz told him about Umberto's stunt back at the police car. Lyle told them about a dirt road they could get to on the snowmobiles that would allow them to get back into town without having to deal with the young cop. They'd probably see him before too long anyway, asking questions about the abandoned and shot-up stolen Crown Victoria. Although Lyle and Maricruz invited Amanda into the conversation several times, she stayed to herself, surely mulling over what the next day or two might hold for her. Finally, Maricruz instructed them all, "We need to get back home. I bet dad's throwing a fit by now, and you two have to be hungry and cold. Maybe we'll be lucky and the power will be back on by now, and I'll whip you guys up some of my french toast. What do you say?"
"Hell yeah," Lyle smiled, although Amanda still didn't respond.
"Come on," Maricruz said to Lyle. "Let's go. Umberto can take Amanda." Maricruz grabbed onto Lyle's hand to pull him over to the snowmobile.
Lyle looked over to see that Amanda's eyes had widened and her forehead had furrowed into an expression of silent fear. Remembering his promise to her, Lyle said, "No," and pulled his hand away from Maricruz. "You take Amanda and I'll ride in with Umberto." Amanda's face relaxed when she heard that she wouldn't have to wrap her arms around a strange man.
At first, Maricruz acted a bit disappointed and even put off, but Lyle walked up to her and kissed her. "Trust me. This is what's best. I'll tell you her story later. Just do this for me, please."
Umberto restarted Maricruz's snowmobile again for her, and as Maricruz and Amanda rode off toward the southeast to find the dirt road, Lyle turned to get on Umberto's snowmobile, but before he could climb on, he felt Umberto's hand grab onto his shoulder. Even though Lyle was a head taller, had callouses on his hands not from dumbbells but from lariats, and had been known to wrestle more than one steer to the ground, Umberto's muscular grip stopped Lyle in his tracks. There would have been a time in Lyle's life when he would have turned around and decked anyone who had done that without even thinking about it, but things change.
"Before we go anywhere, Lyle," Umberto started in a cocky tone, "I've got something to say to you." Lyle wished Umberto would wait until they were home to spout off on him, but he figured he might as well let the boy speak his peace, seeing as Umberto was all there was between Lyle and a couple more miles of walking.
"Then say it, Umberto," Lyle responded in a voice a little deeper and louder than usual. "I'm freezing and starving and tired as hell, so say what you've got to say so we can get the hell out of here."
Umberto stepped closer to Lyle, bringing him just a couple of inches away. His jaws were clinched and his eyes were slightly squinted. Lyle imagined that beneath Umberto's snow gear he was flexing every overgrown muscle in his body. Umberto had never really warmed up to Lyle, but Lyle understood. After all, no one knew more than Lyle himself how big of a screw up he was, how dangerous it had been for years to have anything to do with Lyle. But Umberto always expressed his disapproval with Lyle within the guise of a young man's machismo that Lyle had surely acted out himself years earlier but couldn't stand anymore. But if Lyle was going to be with Maricruz, to marry her even, then Lyle was going to have to make peace with Umberto.
Lyle decided to temper his own tone by saying, "I'm sorry, Umberto, I shouldn't have--"
"I'm only going to say this once," Umberto interrupted him. "You're a lot of fun, but I think you're a drunk and a screw up, Lyle." He took a deep breath and put his hands on his hips. "But here's the deal: for some unknown reason Mari loves you. Because I love her and because she has convinced us all to give you another chance I'm going to go against my own instincts that say, 'once a drunk screw up, always a drunk screw up,' and give you that chance."
Lyle held out his hand to Umberto, starting to say, "I appreciate--"
But Umberto wasn't finished. Instead of shaking Lyle's hand he interrupted him again, saying, "But I'm going to promise you, promise you, that if you hurt Mari and Benny in any way I will hunt you down and I assure you that you will hurt--I mean really hurt--when I'm done with you." Something about the tone of Umberto's voice and the look in his watery eyes told Lyle that the young man wasn't just puffing himself up and baring his teeth; he really meant it. If Lyle screwed up, he'd receive a beating he'd never forget.
Umberto finally shook Lyle's hand as Lyle assured him, "I'd rather die than hurt Maricruz and Benny. That night when I was with those guys that trashed your parents' restaurant and when I fell down all those damn stairs was the day the old Lyle died. I'm a new man, Umberto. Not a perfect man, but a new man, and as soon as I get a chance I'm going to ask your sister to marry me, to spend the rest of her life with me, and I'd really like your blessing."
"It's not my blessing you need, man. You're going to have to talk to our dad about that, but you can't do that unless we get our frozen asses back to town. Let's get this machine started up and get on the road. I've got some explaining to do with my dad and it sounds like you need to have a conversation with him too."
Umberto leaned over to start the snowmobile again, but before he could, Lyle decided he better ask Umberto one more thing. "Hey Umberto," he asked. "You've got a bunch of musclehead friends in Rocky Ford right?"
"Yeah," Umberto responded. "There's several of us that workout together over in Pueblo but we're all from Rocky Ford. Why?"
"Well you know the girl you just met, Amanda?" Umberto nodded as Lyle continued, "Well, there's a good chance that as soon as the highway opens up that there's going to be a real sick and viscous asshole named DB who's going to be looking for her. He'll kill her or rape the hell out of her if he finds her. I've made a promise to that girl that I won't let anything happen to her. That's a part of me being a new man, keeping my promises. But I may need you and your steroid buddies." Umberto's expression betrayed his disapproval of the reference to steroids so Lyle corrected himself. "I mean, I may need you and your friends to help me intimidate the guy if he shows up or maybe even to put a beating on the guy to teach him not to whore out little girls. You think you and your friends could help with that?"
"Lyle," Umberto said. "You know who you're talking to, right? I'll call my guys when we get back and put them on ass kicking standby. This guy sounds like the scum of the earth. It's not every day you get the chance to beat the shit out of the devil himself, right?"
"Well hopefully it won't come to that, but I appreciate it." The two shook hands again, and then Umberto fired up the snowmobile and the two of them sped off to try to catch up with Maricruz and Amanda. Lyle could hardly believe that he'd be home in less than thirty minutes, but he wasn't sure what all the day might still hold.
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