Blood on the Verde River

by Dusty Richards

  Sarge looked satisfied. “Buying those cattle will seal our deal and connection with them. We needed that. Thanks.”

  Chet nodded. “I never gave us a chance at doing this, but it seems to be working and will insure lots of jobs.”

  “How’s Jenn doing in Preskitt?” Sage asked.

  “Doing great. I saw her two days ago.” Chet told about him going after her daughter in Mexico and the rustler deal.

  When he finished, Sarge shook his head. “When I went to work at the Camp Verde ranch I could not believe you could ever straighten it up. You and Tom did that. Then those Hartley brothers flooded the country with their cattle. It’s been a hard ride, but we’re finally seeing some good things happening. I worried a lot when you put me in charge up here. I know you said I could handle it, but I stayed awake nights fretting about it. First trip and we did it. Damn Indian raids—whew. You really helped me and offering to buying hay and cattle from Arnold and Kibley will really take some worries off my shoulders.”

  Chet nodded. “Good. Whenever the government gets the money to pay our script, the entire operation will be on track.”

  Sarge laughed. “Oh, they will.”

  Chet agreed.

  After breakfast, Chet made out a draw for the hay and gave it to Sarge in case the cattle trade didn’t work. He thanked all the hands working with Sarge, had a good visit with Victor the Mexican cook, and headed back to Camp Verde.

  The weather had warmed some. The cottonwoods along the water sources had begun to turn golden yellow from the overnight frost as he short-loped the bay horse. He passed the mail wagon heading west and waved at the contractor on the seat. The man had a great record of getting the mail though to Preskitt from Gallup.

  Past sundown, which came early, he was at the Verde headquarters and a hand put up his horse. Tom came from his house and Susie did the same from her porch to greet him. They went in to her table and Leif joined them, all anxious for Chet’s report.

  “Well, Sarge had a good trip. He found us a hay supply near Gallup in case we get a big snow. We are also buying twenty-five head of cattle from the same two ranchers to help with each drive. Sarge made the deal and thinks we are really covered.”

  Tom and Leif nodded.

  “He really did a great job on that,” Tom said. “I worried how we’d handle a hard winter. Oh, we got three lions. We think that will stop the calf slaughter.”

  “One was a big tom. Must have weighted two-fifty,” Leif said.

  “That was a big one.” Chet had shot lots of them in Texas, but two-fifty was real large.

  “We paid Lowe fifty bucks for each cat he treed,” Tom said “He and his dogs were worth it, and he will come back anytime we need him.”

  “Good. We will need to get more cattle ready since we are buying most of them and get them up to Sarge. Tom, use your list of sellers less the twenty-five from each rancher Sarge has set up.”

  “He will have feed up near Gallup if we send a two month’s supply of cattle?” Tom asked.

  “I think so. But check with him before you send them. They had no problems on the last trip.” Chet turned to his sister. “Susie, do you recall the Indian woman whose horse gave out near here? We gave her a horse to finish her journey?”

  “Blue Bell?”

  “Yes. She thanked Sarge and his crew for the horse again.”

  “She was a very impressive lady.”

  Chet agreed. “So we will have feed over in New Mexico and two ranchers there would help us hold any cattle delivered early, too.”

  Susie fed him while they talked about ranch problems. The man Chet originally hired to cut the hay up at Hackberry wanted out of the contract as Chet had expanded the hay acreage in the valley by renting more irrigated land. Tom was taking over the hay contract and cutting it himself with ranch help. The change was agreeable to both sides, so no one was mad. But he was getting his own hay equipment and going to do his own and some custom work. The ranch would set up their own crew.

  Tom also mentioned they needed a crew to cut hay up at Sarge’s, as well.

  Chet agreed. “We can find a farmer to run that. We will need equipment for the Hackberry operation and Sarge, too.”

  Leif added to the conversation. “There is a blacksmith down at the wagon camp. I’d like you to consider him for the job if he will stay. He can make about anything. He made that spit for the steer we cooked for the wedding.”

  “What do you think?” Chet asked his foreman.

  “We could use him if we’re going farming,” Tom said. “He can repair about anything.”

  “He’s a real inventive guy,” Leif said.

  “What will he cost?”

  “Maybe fifty, sixty a month and he’d need a house.”

  “I’ve never met him.”

  “Johnny Carter. He’s in his thirties and great at working iron and fixing things.”

  “Where will we put him up?” Chet asked.

  “There’s a house could be fixed down the road on the Laird farm you bought.” Tom said.

  “Can we talk to him tomorrow?”

  “Oh, I bet we can,” Leif said.

  “Let’s do that.” Chet felt satisfied a blacksmith would be a good addition to the ranch staff.

  They went over everything on their minds until he decided he better get some sleep and headed upstairs.

  Chet was at the cowboy breakfast in the cook shack for oatmeal or pancakes and syrup. He met some new hands and talked to Hoot.

  “This dang place gets busier and busier. It ain’t the same place I hired on working for you,” Hoot complained.

  “You want to retire?” Chet asked.

  “Hell no. But when will it stop?”

  Chet shook his head. “I don’t think it will.” Personally, he hoped it didn’t.

  “Well, I’ll tell you when all these cowboys overwhelm me.”

  “Thanks. I count on you.”

  Chet left Hoot and went to find Tom, then he and Tom went down to the wagon train camp and met Carter.

  A powerfully built man, he listened to their offer while wearing a blanket jacket against the cool wind. His wife Andi served them fresh coffee in the shelter of the wagon that cut down the breeze.

  “Thanks. That is a fair offer. I need to talk to Andi a minute. Excuse me.”

  Chet nodded for him to go ahead and Tom agreed.

  Alone, Chet asked Tom. “What shape is that house in?”

  “It needs some work, but we can get that done in a few weeks. Some plastering and roof repairs. It isn’t a bad house. Lot’s better than a wagon bed.”

  “He ever make a windmill?” Chet asked.

  “I bet he can.”

  “Good, Windmills would help our range management.”

  Tom agreed.

  John came back. “Andi likes this valley. She’d about do anything to move into a house. Hayden Mills might be paradise, but if that house is livable I’ll take the job.”

  Chet shook John’s hand. “You and Tom can go inspect it. We will make it very livable for you and your family.” He nodded to Andi. “That house will work, I promise you. Nice to have you as a part of the ranch.”

  She looked relieved and smiled. “Thanks. I’m real road weary.”

  “You are home, Andi. This will be it,” Chet said and left John and Tom to work out details. He went back to the house and saddled his horse to ride home.

  He arrived home after lunch and Jesus put up his horse. Looking at the cloudbank in the north while he headed for his wife, he wondered how the honeymooners were making it up at Hackberry. His sister acted very settled as a wife.

  “Those clouds you’re watching might be a snowstorm,” Marge said, hugging him as he stepped inside.

  “Sooner or later we’ll get some.” He rocked her in his arms. “You feeling good?”

  “A little more morning sickness than I want. But I am more confident about the baby’s survival. Have you had lunch?”

  “I am fine.”

&
nbsp; “I’ll make you some lunch. I sent Monica to town to buy a new dress for Sunday. Mary at the dress store can find her one.”

  “Oh.”

  Marge gave him a friendly shove. “It will be a big occasion for her, no matter what happens.”

  “I agree. You did good. My sister really appreciated all your coaching. You can see it on her face. She and Leif can’t hardly not be touching each other.”

  Marge smiled. “Hmm. Sounds like us.”

  Chet laughed.

  “There is water heating.”

  “Great. We’d better empty the shower soon so it doesn’t freeze and bust.”

  “Jesus plans to do that tomorrow. Four men held up the Black Canyon Stage. Roamer came by to see you earlier. He had three men with him. I know how you hate businessmen riding in posses, but these looked like real ranch hands.”

  “When did they come by?”

  “Sunup today.”

  Chet considered the situation. “I better get a fresh horse and see where they went.”

  “I was afraid you would want to do that, but I understand. Take your big jacket,” Marge said.

  He agreed and ran to the barn. “Jesus, saddle a roan horse and a packhorse. I’m going to go find Roamer and his posse.”

  “Sí. I told her you would go find him. Can I go with you?”

  “Do you have a warm jacket?”

  “Oh, sí.”

  “I’ll tell her you’re riding along.”

  “Raphael can handle this job. I’ll be ready.”

  No need to tell his wife how excited her man was about going along. She’d know that. Chet shook his head. Where is JD? No telling.

  Chet and Jesus left within a half hour with a packhorse and supplies. Marge hustled up things they’d need if they were out in the wild somewhere. Pots, pans, flour, lard, sugar, coffee, bacon, baking powder, and pinto beans. Two loaves of Monica’s fresh homemade bread and a few cans of peaches. He’d begun to worry he’d need two packhorses. At the last minute, she added some of Monica’s cookies, too.

  Raphael helped finish the loading process. “Where will you go, amigo?”

  “Down the Black Canyon route until we find where the posse went. Those bandits either went up the Bradshaws on the west or Bloody Basin on the east. I’ve been on both paths. We’ll catch up with the posse by dark tomorrow, maybe sooner. They may have even caught the gunmen by then,” Chet answered.

  “I bet they wait for you.” Raphael smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “I wish I was riding with you.”

  “Thanks. Jesus is a good man. I am pleased he wants to go with me.”

  “Oh, he’s a good young man. Vaya con dios, amigo.”

  “Thanks. I’ll need His help, too.”

  Chet and Jesus left on the run, being so far behind. Chet was pleased the packhorse led easy and kept pace. On the road and headed south, they trotted their horses downhill and met a man in a buckboard on the next flat. Chet introduced himself and asked the man if he’d seen Roamer recently.

  “Newt Horace. Glad to met you, Byrnes.” They shook hands without either man dismounting. “Yes, I spoke to Deputy Roamer about two hours ago. He was close to the place where the stage was held up.”

  “You have any idea where the bandits went?”

  “I started out from Bumble Bee about dawn and never saw any riders on the road. So they cut off somewhere above that, either east or west.”

  Chet nodded. Just like he thought. The question was which way? “Thanks. We’ll find them.”

  “You bet. Good to meet ’cha.”

  Mid-afternoon, Chet and Jesus reached the road that went to Crown King. No sign of three horses going west in the tracks. They rode on. Unable to discover the site of the robbery as it was not marked, Chet told his man they’d ride on to Hassayampa City.

  The November day was short and they reached the village after the sun went down behind the Bradshaw Mountains. They found the town law, John Ed Michaels, and he said that Roamer had gone back, heading for Bloody Basin based on information from a man who’d been held up by the bandits on the road. They’d stolen his horse from him.

  “Did he describe the men?” Chet asked.

  “He said that they were rough-looking, but didn’t know them.”

  “Wonder what he meant? Rough looking?”

  “Whiskers, long hair, and dirty clothes,” the lawman said.

  Chet smiled. “Anyone stealing a horse at gun point would look rough.”

  Michaels agreed.

  Chet found the liveryman they’d used before and he welcomed them. The horses put up, Chet and Jesus walked down hill, ate in a small café, and returned to the livery to sleep in the hay.

  Chet woke Jesus up before sun up. When the horses were saddled and ready, they led them back to the café and hitched them. The owner made eggs and pancakes, served with hot coffee.

  “You two are after the stage robbers, huh?” the owner asked.

  Chet nodded. “We hope to catch up with Deputy Roamer today.”

  The café owner laughed and wiped his palms on the fresh apron. “If I was them, I’d put my hands in the air, Mr. Byrnes. You sure got a powerful rep at catching their kind.”

  “Jesus and I are simply along to help Roamer.”

  “I bet he’ll be glad to have ya.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Lots of luck to you all in getting those worthless trash. They’re bound to do it again.”

  “Thanks.” Chet stood over the chair, fished out money from his pocket, and paid him. “I appreciate you getting up to feed us.”

  “Mucho gracias,” Jesus added and they left.

  Heading east from the Black Canyon route by the time the sun cracked the horizon, Chet recalled the road he and Raphael had taken to find the horse thieves. It was still a faint one lane winding through the steep hills. He pointed out to Jesus where the killer outlaw horse thieves had shot two men, loaded their bodies on their horses, and ridden on.

  Tall saguaros sentinels marked the steep hills and large beds of prickly pear covered many places. Yucca and century plants grew everywhere, as well. The summer rains had produced lots of grama and other grasses. It would be fine range forage for the cattle to get through the winter.

  The mountain they climbed was steep and Chet motioned to stop on the top. After resting the horse briefly, they continued on, reaching Annie Smart’s house by midday.

  Holding her hand up to shade her eyes, she smiled. “Good to see you Chet Byrnes. Your man Roamer came by about three hours ago. He’s real nice guy. He said you weren’t home when he went by your place. We agreed he could sure use you.”

  “Good to see you again, Annie. I got there later and Jesus and I are going to join him. Tell me about the bandits.”

  “They watered their broncs and rode on cussing like you know what.” She shook her head in disgust. “When they arrived, the big tough guy ordered me to get back in the house or they’d shoot me. I did. You need to catch them and hang them. They ain’t worth nothing.”

  “I imagine Roamer wants to take them back to stand trial.”

  “And they’ll get out and do it again. Ain’t no one got any sense?”

  Chet shook his head and he and Jesus rode on. They saw lots of wildlife. A black bear headed off for cover after noticing them. Several mule deer bounded off down a draw at the sight of them. A number of the bucks had great racks—ten- and twelve-point antlers.

  They reached the Yeager Ranch in the late afternoon and saw the extra horses hitched at the rack. The one with some white on him looked like Roamer’s roan horse.

  Busy chewing on some food, the deputy came out on the porch. He grinned. “You lost, Chet?”

  “No, I came to find you.”

  They both laughed and when Chet dismounted, they hugged each other.

  “When were the robbers through here last?” Chet waved to the rancher Yeager.

  “They never stopped here, but about dark last night they rode by.”

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sp; “We can catch them unless they know their way east.”

  “Come have some lunch. Yeager’s wife fixed us lots of food. It’s so good to see you.”

  “Yes. This is Jesus.” Chet pointed to the man with him.

  “Good to meet you,” Roamer said and shook his hand. “Come on inside and meet my men.”

  Roamer introduced Lefty Wilson and a shorter man, Haze Burton. In their thirties, they were soft spoken, but simple, tough, working men. Chet could see they were ranch hands and would have been his choice as posse men.

  The rancher’s wife Shelia hugged Chet and kissed him on the cheek. “This must be outlaw highway. First killers, now stage robbers.”

  “We’re sorry they came this way, ma’am,” Roamer said.

  “Oh, how else could I get all these nice guys to come by and see me? Eat. I can make more.” She left to put the children to bed.

  “You know these outlaws?” Chet asked Roamer, finishing up his coffee.

  “No. Three masked men is all we have.” The two men with Roamer nodded.

  “They shave, get new clothes, and get past Rye and no one will know their identity. Will we?” Chet asked them.

  “Did you think that when you were here last time? That those killers would slip away?” Roamer asked.

  “You bet. I didn’t know where those two were headed, but away. Their neighbor Annie Smart was raped. They took turns on her. They’d murdered two good men. Marge’s foreman and his man. If they’d ever gotten passed the next place, they’d have been scot free.”

  Roamer nodded. “I never learned anything in Hassayampa City. Did you?”

  “No, except that the stage robbers had held up someone on the road and stole his horse. The livery man who helped me when I was after those two that had shot you didn’t know anything but the fact that you three were after them. How much money did they get?”

  “Oh, a couple thousand dollars and some gold dust.”

  Chet frowned. “Why was that much money on the stage in the first place?”

  “Damned if I know, Chet.”

  “They must have gotten information that the money was going to be on the stage. You could hold up those stages a dozen times and get no more than a few dollars, a ring from some woman passenger, and maybe a gold watch or two.”