Blue Roan Colt

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Blue Roan Colt Page 16

by Dusty Richards


  “It took us two weeks, but we caught five. Sold one for a stallion, the rest we gelded. I caught my great sorrel horse and we broke him riding up into Bloody Basin. There was no road left into the ranch back then, it had washed out.” He paused to take a great bite of the burger and chew it. Staring off into space. Thinking.

  She filled the silence. “Wow, I’ve heard some of that story. But it’s good hearing more. There were lots of unbranded cattle?”

  “We culled cattle for three months, six truckloads a week. Sam and I made a fortune. That’s how I have the ranch now in Paradise Valley. He bribed me to sell out the place at Bloody Basin with this place. I guessed I’d never have sold the ranch otherwise.”

  “This ranch is perfect—or will be. Are you sorry you sold the other one?”

  “Nope. Not at all. It’s all worked out well. And here, you and I are doing the thing we love best to do.” She popped a grin. “Well, maybe the second best.”

  They were both quiet for a while. How much should he share with her? He didn’t want her to think too badly of his family. His dad had done the best he could under the circumstances.

  “Tell me some more. I like hearing you talk about life then.”

  He swallowed then went on. “We lost Grandpa’s ranch up at Congress back then. I cried for months over that deal as a young boy. We were sharecroppers then. My mom, dad, and I hoed cotton, then we picked cotton. I hate cotton.”

  “I can tell you do. I don’t blame you.”

  “You better get dressed for the rodeo, babe. I have a feeling about tonight. You may win that queen contest tonight.”

  “If I do, will you come in the arena and swing me around like you did Linda?”

  “Damn right, I will if you want me to. Only difference is you got britches on and her bare legs were kicking high. How will I get a picture? Oh, I know. Clarence, the rodeo photographer. He’ll make me an eight-by-ten.”

  She frowned at him in disbelief. “Not sure my daddy would like that. But we’re married now, so it’s too bad if he doesn’t. Are you serious? What if I don’t win?”

  “Even if you don’t win, I’ll be down there just as if you did. Bail off that horse and I’ll kiss you and he’ll get our picture. But you know, it will be on the front page of the Arizona Republic on Sunday. Cowboy does it again.”

  They about died laughing. She hurried off to change. He went to find Clarence. The photographer agreed instantly, excited to be let in on their deal.

  Lonnie found him before grand entry. “I saw you with that queen. Heard you married her at Christmas. You two looked very serious eating together.”

  “Well, we are very serious. A fella don’t get married if he ain’t.” There he went again, laughing.

  Lonnie slapped his leg. “You are the luckiest bastard I know. First you find an abandoned ranch, you make a movie set out of it, you hit an artesian well, and you’re richer than anyone I know. Bankers stand up when you come in the room. And now you’ve gone and married a rodeo queen.”

  “Well, now I have a wife. But things will be the same with the rodeo. She loves it and will come along.”

  Lonnie looked pleased. “I have the Tucson rodeo next month. Will you help me out there?”

  “Sure.”

  “At least I won’t have to look at your ugly face all the time. I can look at her.”

  Lonnie went off and Mark went to help line up the grand entry in the alleyway. Working these big rodeos was fun. Maybe he’d try his hand at doing it more someday. Julie would like that.

  Soon they struck up the band and the American flag came in first. Everyone stood, and he swept off his hat—yes, God bless America and he was ready to kiss the ground that he stood upon, horseshit and all.

  He waved when she swept by him in line with all the rest. Ladies first, barrel racers in glittering shirts and white hats, cowboys all done up in their finest, clowns walking along behind. A restored stagecoach pulled by six prancing quarter horses, the driver waving. Tonight, he had some fun planned.

  After bareback broncs, the queens were introduced one by one, each accompanied by a drum roll.

  The announcer called out Miss Congeniality. Julie won best in speech, then Horsemanship—Julie won second, but he rated her first. Finally, he called out again, “The winner of Miss Arizona Rodeo is from Sonata, Arizona.”

  She threw her white-gloved free hand to the middle of her chest.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, here she is! Our new queen, Julie Conroy Shaw.”

  She rode over to the center. Clarence flashed his camera and they crowned her.

  “Julie, make a victory pass, and lead these girls out. Here she goes.” The voice boomed over the crowd’s cheering, and she rounded the arena riding high. On the way out, she waved the girls by her, put a reining skid on her horse, piled off and Mark ran to kiss her. They were greeted with a huge cheer from the crowd, so loud it could’ve been heard back home.

  When he swept her up, the announcer spoke into the mic. “Ladies and gentleman, you know this man. A few years ago, he made the Life magazine cover with another lady. He’s a stock contractor, too. Name is Mark Shaw and there is lots to tell you about him. He’s a highly-decorated war hero and he can sure pick a pretty woman to kiss, as well.” He paused, glanced at a note someone handed him. “Oh, here’s the best part! Miss Julie Conroy married Mark Shaw last Christmas. So, give them another big hurrah!”

  To the roar and whistling of the crowd, Mark led her by the hand to the open gate. A pickup man brought her horse. He tossed the reins to Mark. Then they confronted two people—a tall cowboy in a tailored western suit, and a pretty woman beside him who looked like her daughter, but not as tall.

  Bryce and Eleanor Conroy.

  Mark swelled with pride. At last, he’d impressed the stubborn S-O-B. enough to earn his presence. A firm handshake from her dad, a hug from mom. Had he at last measured up to her family, or were they just making a show? Conroy’s eyes gleamed and Eleanor looked happy. Their acceptance of him as their son-in-law was real.

  One more victory.

  “It may not be on Life,” her daddy said, shaking his head. “But you two will make the Sunday edition for sure.”

  At that, she hugged Mark, almost jumping up and down. “You got it done for me, baby!”

  “Wasn’t nothing that I won’t take a hundred razzings for, over and over again. But I reckon it was worth it, all in all.” With her, he wasn’t going to live a life as it ever was before. But he wasn’t a bit worried about that. Whatever came, he would enjoy it.

  They took a load of stock home that evening. He would come back in the morning for the rest. She hauled her horse and, once at the ranch, put him in a stall. The stock unloaded, they went toward the trailer.

  Rosita came out on the porch built on her trailer. “I left the lights on, ‘cause I knew you were coming home tonight.”

  “I’ll turn it off later. Thanks.”

  Inside his trailer, she hugged him. “How do I take care of you?”

  “Just be here with me.” He rocked her with them standing in the middle of the living room. The lights dimmed every so often with a dip in the voltage, but the generator rolled on.

  “I can see where I’m going. Back to the Salt River Power authority and get some poles set coming out here.”

  “Oh, Mark, I could just sit in candlelight with you.”

  “Light some. I’ll go shut the dang thing off.”

  “Don’t be gone long.”

  About then, out in one of the pastures, a coyote let out a deep call. “Don’t be afraid. They’re just happy for us.”

  “I’m not. They’ve howled all my life on our ranch.”

  “Good, we have a big crop of them out here.”

  He went to turn off the generator. They slept together in each other’s arms. At daylight, she woke him with a kiss, then fled the bed.

  He stood in the door in jeans and a flannel shirt. She was having a time getting used to the small kitchen.
<
br />   “Better than eating someone else’s cooking all the time, isn’t it?”

  “Oh, yeah?” She tossed the words over her shoulder. “We’ll take turns cooking just like we take turns breaking horses and shoveling horse droppings.”

  “That’ll be the day.”

  Dressed in one of his long-tailed shirts for a nightie, she kept right on frying bacon and eggs. Toast popped up and she still hadn’t had a comeback. Had he made her mad?

  He didn’t say anything about the coffee, one tablespoon short, for fear it would fluff her feathers.

  “Didn’t act much like newlyweds last night. Sorry about that. I was worn out.”

  “Me, too. Guess we’re just an old married couple, huh?”

  He hugged her while she cleaned the table off. “That’ll never happen, my love. I’m rested if you are.”

  She put down the dish cloth, took his hand, and led him to the back of the trailer where they slept, kissing him. “We’ll always be together, I promise.”

  Having lost Alma, the promise went straight to his soul. No one could make that kind of promise, but he took it anyway, tucking it up against his heart. He hoped to God she was right about that. He knew what it was like to lose the one you loved and how lucky he was to have been given this second chance.

  Later that morning, after washing the dishes, they loaded her horse. She headed to Tempe and he went to the fairgrounds to load up his stock.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  MARK NEVER FELT CERTAIN ABOUT leaving his own life and moving into theirs, but Julie took over his bookkeeping and organization. Not too bossy, but simply organizing everything. He had a calendar for where he needed to be and when, and in some cases why. In a month, she had all of their money lying around in interest-paying accounts.

  They were seated at the chrome-vinyl kitchen table and looking at house plans for the ranch. As the builder put it, the house was closed in. The logs and roof were done. From the outside, it was beautiful. Inside, an upper balcony overlooking the downstairs would lead to six bedrooms and baths. The downstairs layout was still under consideration. The master bedroom on the main floor would have floor-to-ceiling glass windows, and French doors leading out to the patio and pool. That was a given. It was just the rest of it that remained in the discussion stage.

  “Do you really think we can get electric out here?”

  “Yep. I just haven’t tried hard enough. Sam is working on it.”

  She reached over and squeezed his forearm. “That would be nice. When can we go see the movie ranch?”

  “How about tomorrow? We can load Red and another horse for you in your trailer and head out up there. We’ll need to use your rig. My old International would never pull them in there.”

  “Can’t I take Thunder?” She looked disappointed.

  “Hey, that country is rough up there. Let’s leave him here for the smooth stuff.”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  “What are we going to do today?”

  Her face lit up. “What do you say? Honeymoon it?”

  “That’s the word. Let me check the livestock and everything. I’ll be right back.”

  “Drink your coffee first. I want to take you down to Sonata in the next week.”

  “We can go.” He finished his coffee and put on a lined jumper.

  He stepped out the door and was glad he pulled on the jumper. It was cold outside, and he hunched up against the wind. Rosita came out in a long coat.

  He stopped and smiled. “How are you doing?”

  “Fine. Do you need anything?”

  He glanced back at their trailer. “Not today. Tomorrow we’ll take off.”

  She laughed. “I’ll clean the house then.”

  With a light hug from him, she went back inside.

  The rodeo cattle were fine, eating green alfalfa hay, with their water tank full. The horses in the pen were okay, so he fed her horse and Red in the stalls. He checked the azure sky. Must be forty degrees with a northern wind. They had some frost earlier in the week but in a day or so, it would be warm enough to show her the movie ranch. All he dreaded was that damn son of the guy who bought it. Maybe he’d be off somewhere bragging about his money.

  Chores done, he went back to the house after checking the diesel supplies at the chugging generator. He’d need Sam’s help to get the power line strung. His partner could do anything like that. Satisfied, he headed back for the trailer. Having her was like having Alma. They weren’t to be compared, but they both pleased him and, better yet, they liked the role.

  Would it wear off? He hoped not. He warmed up in front of the butane stove in the living room.

  Then she came out in a white robe and smiled. “Took you long enough.”

  He laughed, and bear hugged her. “I was running the whole time.”

  Her long hair hung loose, and she let it fall over one eye like Veronica Lake. “I would have waited if you took four hours, Big Boy.”

  Laughing, she led him back to the first bedroom.

  —

  THEY WENT TO SEE SAM the very next day. The ranch trip was postponed for a while, and Sam called up the Salt River Power Authority to speak to Eldon Carpenter, the top man. Mark and Julie sat in leather chairs facing the desk. When Sam leaned back in his chair and put his feet up, Mark knew to settl in for a long, persuasive talk.

  “Damnit, Eldon, we need power for a decorated hero. He’s out there making a paradise out of the valley by the same name. He’s got eighty acres of alfalfa and is going to build a movie set out there. You can’t hold back progress. We need juice out there. I know everyone needs to be hooked up, but you won’t lose a cent on this deal. That’s right.” Sam held his hand over the mouthpiece. “We’re going to get it. You kids go have fun. Before sunset, I’ll have power headed that way.”

  They waved goodbye and went out the office door. In the Chevy pickup, they drove out to Superstition Mountain to check on things at the movie set. The false front buildings were about up, and the place looked great. A crew of Mexicans from Gilbert were building corrals to hold the horses and teams that they’d need for filming. He spoke to Salazar, the man who ran the crew.

  “We should finish here this week.”

  “Good, we can build a few more out at my place the following week.”

  “Oh, sure. We can be there. How big?”

  “I’ll have the plans drawn up and the lumber on the site.”

  They shook hands and he went back to Julie, who was talking to the man who was the overseer—a small balding fellow with a comb-over that stood in the air in the wind. He didn’t seem to notice. Julie did and was doing her best not to laugh. Her struggle amused him as much as the man’s. The longer they lived together, the more he enjoyed himself.

  “That bunch from Hollywood was here. I was telling her. They came out here in a jeep and that director got out holding his back. It was funny. He kicked the tires, swearing about why they drove that stiff riding thing from the hotel out there when the roads were all paved.”

  “Sounds like everything is going to plan.” Mark covered his mouth with a doubled fist and made a coughing sound.

  They had barely moved out of the overseer’s sight before they both busted out laughing.

  “Looks like he could use some glue.” Mark held open the pickup’s door for her. “Guess I shouldn’t laugh. One of these days, I might lose all my hair. Then what would I do?”

  “Oh, you’d be just as handsome bald as you are now.” She patted his head. “Well, maybe not quite. You might need to order you some glue.”

  “Yeah, thanks. It looks like everything’s going according to schedule. Reckon we can go back home. Funny how they can put up store fronts and make the place look so real when there’s nothing behind the walls.”

  “It is a fascinating business.”

  “Yes, but when I was in that one movie, they spent forever getting a scene on film. Guess in a way it’s okay. The stars get a lot of down time to contemplate the meaning
of life.”

  She punched him easy-like on the arm. “Meaning of life? You’re getting plumb philosophical.”

  They drove back home, calling Sam from a phone booth in a bar.

  He listened to the good news. “No problem, sonny boy. Hire an electrician and get everything set. He’s sending three crews out after they survey it tomorrow. Son, I wish you’d get a telephone out there, so I could call you once in a while.”

  “Well, I would. All you have to do is wrangle me one of them too. Can’t they use the same poles? Tell ‘em to string me some wire for a phone while they’re at it.’

  “Oh, just like that?”

  “In my opinion, what Sam Cline wants, he gets. Just like that.”

  “Oh, is that right? I thought you might say that, so I went ahead and ordered the lines and phones for both your living quarters and your office.”

  “Well, thanks pard, we’ll be ready.”

  Back in the pickup, he grinned at her.

  “Did he do it?”

  She sounded excited. Wait till she heard the rest.

  “Ol’ Sambo came through. Not only that, we’re getting phones, too.”

  She clapped her hands to both cheeks and let out a low squeal. He hugged her and started the truck. “They will be there in a week with juice. Might take a little longer to get the telephones put in.”

  They drove home listening to country music on the new radio station up in Glendale. That was all they played—country music. Some well-known DJ named Ray Odum built it with all the money he made the past August from a packed Elvis Presley concert at the fairgrounds. They went on home and celebrated.

  The next morning, Mark was in Sam’s office. The movie producer, Zack Holder, who talked like Elmer Fudd in the Bugs Bunny cartoons, wanted changes on the Superstition set. They always wanted changes, but the deal was the set was built to their specs where they drove stakes. So, any great change was going to cost the producer and he was upset.

 

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