“Howdy.” One of the hands stood up in his stirrups with his hat cocked back and waved at them. “We ain’t looking for no trouble.”
“You’re close enough.”
“Hey, me, Jake, and Bob are just out checking on the cattle for our boss, Mr. Whitmore. We ain’t borrowing no trouble, mind ya. My name’s Howard.”
They looked like simple young ranch hands, but Guthrey wasn’t taking any chances. “There aren’t many of your cattle up here, Howard.”
“I know that, but we have orders to check this country. We saw a few head of our stock. We’re going to pick up and drive them back south when we go home tonight.”
“Good enough. Leave ours up here.”
“Oh, we will. You mind if we get a drink? Kind of a hot day.”
Guthrey told them to go ahead, sharing a nod with Noble. Then he slid the rifle back in his scabbard. These weren’t the hard cases he expected.
When the blond-headed youth who called himself Howard dismounted, he nodded again at Guthrey. “You must be that ex–Texas Ranger?”
“I am.”
“Been a lot of talk about you around here. How you beat up that deputy in Soda Springs.”
“He was drunk and going to arrest me. He got what he deserved.”
Howard held his hands out. “I ain’t saying he didn’t deserve it, mister. Just repeating what I heard. How do you like working for a woman?”
The working for a woman line about threw him. “Fine, me and Noble here like working for her just fine.”
Howard made a face. “Guess I could too, as cute as she is.”
“Miss Bridges is a fine young lady.” Were they trying to get his goat? If they said one wrong word about her, he’d peel some hide off of them.
The other two looked like the cat had got their tongues, drank, watered their horses, and left the talking to Howard, who Guthrey figured was in his early twenties. The others weren’t out of their teens.
In a short while, the three mounted up, tipped their hats, and rode on.
“I thought that Howard boy was going to say too much,” Noble said under his breath.
Still watching them ride off, Guthrey nodded. “Let’s work north some more today. That calf may be up that way.”
“You still ain’t talking.” Noble chuckled and swung in his saddle. “That youngest one, sitting quiet, I thought would piss in his pants when you confirmed you were the Ranger they’d heard about.”
Guthrey agreed. “I guess he was afraid of something. He never said a word the entire time.”
“Having a reputation like yours ain’t bad, by golly.”
“It helps sometimes. The way things are going we’ll be getting in late tonight, so let’s move.”
“No problem. I’ve enjoyed it all, even trading words with them kids.” Then he laughed. “They sure might have done that branding as an order from their boss. That young one sure did amuse me.”
“What’s that?”
“How close he come to pissing in his pants.” Noble stood in the stirrups and trotted his horse, chuckling all the time.
* * *
PAST SUNDOWN, THEY could hear the Jersey cow complaining as they came over the pass. When they reached the corrals, the light left was just enough for them to see their latigos and peel the saddles and pads off their horses. Turned loose, their mounts went to roll in the dust. Noble headed after a milk pail, and Guthrey started the stove. They were soon in their evening routine.
Guthrey made pancakes and syrup for them along with coffee. He was about ready to serve it when the milker came in with his pail. After Noble covered the pail with cheesecloth to keep the flies out, he went to wash up. “That is a good cow. I was raised with kicking cows that clubbed me many times when I tried to milk them as a boy.”
“Me too,” Guthrey agreed. “We had one we called Blasting Powder, and I finally had four bucket-calves suck her instead of milking her. Mom complained, said she had the richest milk of any of our cows. I told her that she could milk her, then. Never heard another word about that cow’s milk again. I halfway expected Dad to jump on me about talking to her like that, but he knew the cow well.”
“I guess, by golly, in the morning you’re a going to town and check on them kids.”
“Yeah, we’ll eat early and I’ll go in and ride back tomorrow night.”
“Good. I sure hope Dan is better.”
“Me too. I’m tired of cooking.”
Noble slapped his legs. “Ha! That’s what not having a wife puts on a feller.”
Guthrey agreed. Except he simply missed Cally’s company more than he’d ever dreamed he would. Her absence made him impatient with himself as the week had worn on. The pancakes even tasted blah. Noble bragged on them, but Guthrey figured the ole man would brag on anything he didn’t have to cook.
* * *
WAY BEFORE DAYLIGHT, Noble nudged him with his boot toe as he slept in his bedroll.
“Get up. I’ve got breakfast ready.”
Guthrey set up. Was something wrong? It wasn’t even light yet.
“Come on, it’ll get cold. I knew you wanted to start out early today. I’m going to water Cally’s garden today and hoe in it.”
“You didn’t have to do this.”
“By grab, I know what I have to do.”
Pulling on his emptied boots after he shook them out—in case there was a critter got in them overnight—Guthrey laughed. “Noble, you make a dandy guy to batch with.”
“You tell Dan and Cally I said for him to get well.”
“I’ll do that.”
“And leave those dishes for me to wash. You get on up there and find out how that boy’s a-doing.”
“Noble,” Guthrey said, “you keep your guns handy. Since you’ve sided with us, they’d shoot you as quick as any of us.”
He nodded. “You’re probably right. I’ll do that.”
On his own horse, Lobo, Guthrey left the ranch before the sun even came up. The horse was fresh and acted tough when Guthrey boarded him. He intended to push his mount. On the road to town before dawn, he spooked some mule deer grazing beside it. They bounded away in the starlight. Unlike their cousin, the whitetail, who simply ran, the black-tailed ones had a four-legged bouncing-like gait that got them their name.
Guthrey arrived in Steward’s Crossing still half-asleep and never stopped. Then he went west up the steep hill on the Tucson road toward Soda Springs. He hadn’t heard much news about the Apaches who had broken out from the San Carlos Reservation, but his isolation on the ranch cut him off from the rest of the world.
Had Whitmore sent those three men he met the day before up there to eliminate that calf? If they had done that, his momma would have been bawling to find him—a sure sign they’d taken him. But since they never heard or saw her, chances were good that he was still up there somewhere.
Guthrey short loped his horse the next few miles. A tough pony despite his ugly head, Lobo had a gait that was smooth enough. In the first peachy light of day, the tall saguaros started to become statues that must have seen the Spanish conquistadors when they came to this land hundreds of years earlier. What if they could talk? He shook his head and nudged Lobo with his spur to go a little faster.
The tules soon filled the wash bed beside the road. Guthrey arrived in the Crook County seat, walking his sweaty horse the last mile to dry him out. He dismounted at a café that was open and had a cup of thick coffee. Commerce had not started for the day, and he marveled at the short time the hard ride had required.
Seated with him at the counter were some obvious workers. They talked about the lack of rain and some man named Nelson who’d broken out of jail.
“Didn’t he have a broken arm?” Guthrey asked them.
“Yeah. How did he ever overpower a guard
and get away?”
The man turned back to his coffee and commented, “He must have been a tough sumbitch.”
“No, he was part of the ‘gang’ that runs things around here,” the burly man beside Guthrey said. “That damn big shot Whitmore’s got a passel of them hired to do his bidding. I’d bet that Bridges boy lying up there at Doc’s, his wreck was probably caused by them too.”
The others down the counter agreed.
“When’re we going to get tired of him running roughshod over everyone?” the mouthy one asked. “They run off that family on the Double L place.”
“Saul Mitchel?” someone asked.
“He sell out?” another said. “I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah and left the same day.”
The conversation was fast and Guthrey was trying to piece it all together. The workmen soon left for their jobs. He paid the thickset waitress ten cents for his coffee and went over to Doc’s.
At Doc’s office, he hitched Lobo to the rail, and a fresh-faced Cally met him halfway to the front door. He hugged her and kissed her on the side of the face. “How’s your brother?”
“Better. But Doc is still not sure that he doesn’t have more problems inside. The leg is set, and he’s still in lots of pain. How are things going with you and Noble?”
“Besides the fact we haven’t found the branded calf, all right. I guess you heard that Nelson broke out of jail, and with his arm broken too.”
She made a face. “How damn convenient,” she said under her breath. “It is so good to see you.” Then she blushed. “I’ve missed our conversations.”
“So have I. What’re your plans?”
“Let’s talk it over with Dan. I’d like to go back home to sleep in my own bed. Be in my own house and tend my garden.” He followed her back inside.
“Noble is hoeing in your garden today and plans to irrigate this afternoon.”
She shook her head as if embarrassed. “You two may spoil us.”
Her brother was propped up on his pillows in the bed. “I thought you two were taking all day to come back inside.”
“We had lots to talk about. How have you been?” Guthrey asked, sitting down on a chair beside Dan’s bed.
“Better. You all find that calf?”
“No. We’ve rode every day last week and ain’t found hide nor hair of him up in that northwest country where I found you. Treated two head for screwworms. I think we got to them in time.”
Dan frowned. “He has to be up there unless someone got him.”
“I think his momma moved ranges. There was no bawling cow looking for her baby. No buzzards looking for a meal anywhere we’ve been either.”
“I ain’t lying.”
“Easy, I roped him too, so I know he was branded like you said. We’ll find him. That old man Noble is tougher than I thought. He’s a helluva good guy to ride with.”
Dan laughed. “I guess he told you about all his wives?”
“Most of it. They were the highlight of his life.”
“Yes, I never thought of it like that. Yes, they were.”
Cally took a seat on the end of the bed. “Dan, I’m thinking of going home and looking after the crew. I can’t do much for you here. Can you make it without me?”
“Oh, I’ll be fine. Doc wants me to stay here for a while and heal. I can use those crutches now and get around. Did you know that guy you arrested broke out of jail?”
“Yes, I heard it all over town when I first got here. Folks are upset. Think he was simply turned loose.”
“See how sorry the law is in this county?” Dan shook his head in disgust.
“Don’t overload your backside when we ain’t here,” his sister said. “Whitmore has plenty of allies listening.”
“I won’t. I simply get mad that Dad’s killer is still walking around free as a bird.”
Guthrey said, “He won’t do that forever. If we can find that dogie we’ll have a start on taking him down.”
Dan lay back on his pillows. “I know you will. Sis, you be careful. I don’t think they care anything about not hurting women.”
Guthrey shot a glance at Cally. “Did I miss something?”
“It happened last year—” She looked around to be certain they were alone in the room. “A woman on the Two Star Ranch was assaulted and left for dead. Her husband didn’t want any more trouble with them, so he never reported it. Later she told a few of us women that three of the raiders raped her repeatedly.”
“Who were they?”
“She said they all wore flour sack masks. But one of them wore a red ruby ring. Poor woman didn’t want to talk about who they were, but she slipped talking about that ring. . . .”
“Good morning.” The doctor’s wife, Kathryn, swept into the room in a fresh starched dress. “Dan, how are you doing this morning?”
“Fine, Miss Kathryn.”
“Good. And how are you, sir?”
“Doing all right,” Guthrey said. “He thinks he’s recovering. I’ll be glad when he’s back at the ranch taking care of the cattle.”
She raised her eyebrows. “We hope it will be soon. Is there anything you need, Cally?”
“No, ma’am.” Everyone sort of waited to talk further until Kathryn finally exited the room.
Cally made a face after her exit. “She should have married a preacher.”
“What’s wrong?” Guthrey asked.
“Oh, tell him, Dan. What she said.”
“She told Cally if she went back to the ranch without a chaperone and you cowboys were out there, it would ruin her reputation.”
“That’s what she told me.” Cally shook her head in disgust. “I am still going back to the ranch. You two don’t need to do my jobs.”
“If Dan can get by here on his own, I can drive you back today.”
“I can handle it,” Dan said. “Besides, she’s going crazy just sitting around here.”
“Thanks.” She looked pleased at her brother.
“When you want to go back to the ranch, you just say the word.” Guthrey was looking out the window at a rider who dismounted at the Texas Saloon across the street. The rider looked vaguely familiar.
“Dan, is that one of those three raiders who shot at us? He’s about to step on the Texas Saloon’s porch.”
Leaning forward, Dan looked hard at the figure, then nodded. “I recognize his hat.”
“I wonder where the other one is at,” Cally pondered.
“Good question,” Dan said.
“What should we do?” Cally asked.
“You two stay here. I’ll go check him out.”
“You be careful,” Cally told him. “That big deputy is still on patrol here.”
Guthrey nodded and went out the back way. He trotted down the alley behind the businesses and crossed the street past the saddle maker’s shop. Nothing in sight but some horses at the hitch rail in front of the Texas Saloon. In a few minutes, Guthrey was outside the back door of the bar. Up the six steps, he eased the unlocked door open. One of the working girls sitting on a wood case about screamed at his appearance. He put his finger to his lips. From his vest he took out a half dollar and tossed it to her. She caught it in two hands and smiled.
She hurried over as he beckoned to her with his hand.
“There is a man in there that wears a black hat with a floppy right side.” He pointed to that side of his own weathered hat. “He’s large. You go out there and check so that he don’t know anything, then come back and tell me where he’s at and who he’s with.”
The next half dollar made her really smile when he showed it to her. She raised her hems higher and pranced out of the room, which was full of beer kegs and wooden cases of liquor bottles.
Impatient, Guthr
ey dried his right hand on the side of his pants. He shook his head over the passing minutes. She sure took her time getting back to him. Then she appeared and came quickly to where he stood with his arms folded.
“He’s with a shorter man at a side table,” she whispered. “They’ve been in here before. Calls himself Rip. The other man is Thad, he’s sometimes a cowboy.”
He paid her the other half dollar.
“I can coax either one of them back here.” She twisted, holding the side of her worn dress out from her body.
“Thanks, I can handle them. Were any of their friends in the place?”
She laughed aloud, then covered her mouth with her hands and looked embarrassed at her outburst. “Nobody likes them.”
“Good. Stay in here for a while.”
She made a seductive pose for him, with her hands on her hips. “You ever get lonely, come find me. I’m Sealley.”
“Thanks, Sealley.” He straightened, hefted his pistol a few inches from its place of rest in his holster. The revolver was free enough to suit him. Not looking at the men at the table, Guthrey came through the back door and stopped at a place midway down the bar. Using the mirror behind the bar, he made sure there was no one behind the men if he had to shoot either of them.
The two men frowned at each other when they noticed Guthrey’s abrupt entry and how he was staring at both of them. Their look was one of “Who’s he?”
“It’s him from the—” The one Sealley had called Rip managed to get out. Both men went to their feet but too late, and in that split moment, all hell broke loose. They were too slow. Guthrey had his pistol hammer cocked and ready to shoot them so fast it made the pair blink in disbelief. They let go of their gun grips, released their weapons to settle back in their holsters, and raised their hands in the air.
Guthrey moved in quickly and disarmed them, shoving their pistols one at a time in his waistband, and indicating a direction with his gun barrel, he made them move aside.
“What the hell are you doing with us?” Thad asked.
“I’m marching you up to the jail and filing charges of terroristic threatening.”
“You think they can hold us?” Rip asked as if he would be walking out of the hoosegow as soon as he got there.
Chaparral Range War (9781101619049) Page 8
