"HER or ME"

“IT'S EITHER HER OR ME”

© Nick Migliaccio 2025

The sensitive content here is coercion and implied violence.

“Yep, one of the few times you’ve been right in your life.”

“Just because she has thrown you every time every time you tried to ride. She will never be horse meat, just because you want revenge. “Windy has been with me over 10 years, a bit longer than Coal. She and the Lab are a pair. “Windy would never work with a loathsome person like you, she sees right through you. You’ve done your worst, throwing us off this land, and it didn’t work, using her as hostage. Someone like you should never get to see them in action, as they are just animals to you, to be used, abused and discarded!” “Yeah it shows you as a sentimental fool, which is why you're nowhere in this world. You're not competitive from the time you left the Forces, to now.” “Well if you mean I am not a backstabber, or betray others for rank or gain, I think you're right, because you’d recognize someone like that being one yourself.”

It was summer in Montana, and in the Crow Agency it was hotter than a two dollar pistol. The prep who had just foreclosed on my wife’s property, hadn’t a clue a prairie rattler was coiling about 3 feet from his leg when Coal pointed him, and before I could draw bead on it with my Colt 45, and Windy stomped it into roadrunner nibbles.

He had not a clue, and bitched ‘cause Windy stomped next to him not knowing the snake perished before he could strike. He never knew what happened. Considering the area, he’d have a great time managing this land.

Forest fires had been bad two years in a row, and as a result the enrollment in our rehab camp had dwindled down to 5 from the normal 25 pair, an abused teen with a PTSD combat veteran, working together on the hay and orchard operation. This year the agencies funding the civilians failed to agree on contract terms with the Veterans Administration,so we self funded five pairs on the farm. Ten acres in orchard, fifty in pasture, and one hundred fifty in hay, with the agency subsidies, had kept us solvent. We saw this coming and a month before our sheriff’s notice, we outplace our remaining livestock, including 20 ewes, one ram and two trail horses. Our border collie, Killeen went to Mr.McCarthy, two places over where she got a new flock of fifty some ewes and a pair of rams. She’d worked McCarthy’s place a number of times in the 10 lambing seasons we’d been neighbors and gotten to know each other, Dana and I, and Irene and Bill McCarthy.

I figured Ernie Abbas would lose the place in a couple years once he could not locate the galena deposit he thought was there. I know Bill and Irene had no love for a mining operation next door, and so would keep us informed. Knowing this was coming and having been here before, he and Irene offered their 3 acre hunt camp East of Great Falls. The price was reasonable, and the terms generous as they held the mortgage. It was 5 hours N, and the camp was an hour out of Great Falls. So when we wanted holidays and the kids were out of state, we’d spend them with Bill and Irene. Dana worked social rehab and counseling for two agencies where mileage was paid. I worked security and labor at some of the lodges in the high valley’s. With expenses under control we built a bunkhouse so the kids could stay when they came, even if we got snowed in, that happened every so often. I smiled each time I heard Ernie in my head telling me I had to trade off Windy, or leave. How fortunate can you be to have enemies like that? I had worried about the snakes while in Crow Agency, wanting a bit more elevation. The tourist traffic was getting annoying. Griz were rare, but Montana has a Defense of Life or Property Law, so you were armed when out and about. We’d lost several ewes to black bear there in the 10 years, none to mountain lions. Probably due to Windy, Coal and the sweet little burrow Sadie we had. Sadie was sweet, but vicious when the cats showed up. She and Windy stomped a juvenile, while Coal raised hell, and we never saw a cat after that. I guess word gets around.

Probably our bad luck that prairie rattler never got to strike Ernest. He fancied himself a gangster with his LA attitude and several gang tattoos. Now that pest was again raising hell with me because we had not signed off on the water rights he needed to drill for the galena ore. He told me I owed him $700 for the delay I had caused I should have got an unlisted number, cause like the wind, Tues and Thurs, he’d call up and harangue me, implying bad things. Tired of this, and unwilling to give up phone service, unable to get it unlisted, something had to give. Finally I weakened and told him to bring the documents to the Horseshoe Bar on First St. in Great Falls, to get them signed almost 4 days hence on Friday. Then I called Joey Levine, a Blackfoot Vet with PTSD who had been a supervisor in our camp, and explained how uncomfortable this guy had made us. I could hear in Joe’s tone, how he was feeling. Joe had been one of the most successful at reaching some of the young people he worked with his sense of humor and empathy. He held a Silver Star, and a Bronze Star with Oak Leaf for freeing a squad of ARVIN soldiers Hue during the Tet Offensive. Sadly on return home he learned his brother had been killed in a drive-by shooting in Crips Country, in his old neighborhood in E. LA.

Joe’s grief and angst just came tumbling out, having this on top of all the death and destruction he'd had in 'Nam, almost erupting with us. He was there with us for a month before any of the others showed up. Responsibility for the two trail horses, Fric and Frac, Killeen, and the ewes allowed him to feel the relationships grow, and he helped the kids learn that as well. Eventually even the ram came to an understanding with him. I emailed him Ernest’s image, along with a “Cease and Desist” order and a copy of my application for a Restraining Order, which he put in a manila envelope in his office.

It's Friday, 6 PM, and Ernest eyeballs the Horseshoe Bar with its Vegas style sign. He was surprised when he stepped into a half lit Indian bar, and visually searches for me with an arrogant his normal arrogant look. Observed by a bunch of sketchy looking Indians, he tries to shout: “Send Miles out here”, but it just doesn't come out with any authority.. Not a sound, no notice, when a mature dark complected woman with black braids says to him: “Follow me,” and leads him into Joe’s office which is almost dark, and she pulls out a chair for him at a round table with a candle, and pats him down for weapons. A figure stands up, and points to the chair. “SIT!” It’s not an invite, It's an order. Always used to being the bully, confused, he looks around as he hears feet. Sitting seems the least dangerous thing to do, looking at Joe’s frown. Joe opens the envelope with Ernest’s scanned picture, pushing it in front of Ernest. “ Is that you? Ernest Abbas?” Joe demands. Confused, he fingers the paper and quietly says: “ Yeah me.”

“Where’s Miles?” “He ain’t coming !” “Here, sign both of these!, the Restraining Order and the Cease and Desist !” “I ain’t signing nothin!” he tries to shout but his voice cracks. ”I don’t hafta!” The phone rings. Joe hands it to Ernest, looking confused, maybe scared. “WTF is this?” “Ah this is Miles, truly sorry to miss this Ernest. Your X-wife is here, holding the fuse of a thermite charge to your Maserati, with the PC, your stash, the 100K US currency loaded in it. She is pissed you stood her up and didn’t pay your loan due her, so the proposition becomes ‘Its either Her or me?’ So sign the orders and Juanita will notarize them, and then Joe and I will buy you a couple drinks, capice?”

Joe is smiling, and Ernest’s face is dark like his blood pressure is surging as he clinches his fists, signing the orders, watching Juanita notarize them. Joe stands up and grasps Ernest right hand, shaking it as he says “Good Choice, lets go drink on it.” Grudgingly Ernest walks out into the bar room, steps up and orders a double scotch. Its early just about 7PM. Witnesses say Ernest left the Horseshoe after 11 on his way back to Crow Agency About midnite several motorists alerted the Montana Highway Patrol of a vehicle on fire in a ravine off Armington off US 87. Emergency crews responded from Malestrom AFB, and reported a male latino doa, suspecting alcohol involved. Later autopsy showed BA of 0.086 and confirmed the identity of the deceased as E. Abbas.