“She’d let you go? Become a cowboy?”
The boy straightened his spine. “She said she would.”
“What is your name?”
“Kyle Ryan.”
“Can you buy a sound horse and saddle for eighty dollars?”
“I can, sir.”
“I’ll buy you one. You give the money for your horse to your mother and come to work on one of my ranches,” Chet offered.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“I can sure do that. What’s your brand?”
“Quarter Circle Z.”
Kyle nodded. “When do we leave?”
“Two days. Now, pick out a horse and saddle.”
“I can help him,” Jesus offered.
“I really thank you, mister.”
“My name is Chet Byrnes.”
“I sure appreciate it, Mr. Byrnes.”
“Just make hand is all I ask.”
“I will do that.”
The boy found a solid young horse and a good saddle. Chet paid the livery owner for Kyle’s new horse and gave Kyle eighty dollars for his horse. It was decided he would meet Chet, Jesus, and Cole in the morning to ride over to Mesa to look for another small horse in that community. They watched him ride his new horse home to tell his mom and pack his things.
“What did your mom say when you told her you had a horse and a job?” Chet asked as Kyle rode up.
“Wow.”
“You give her the money?”
“She cried. That was hard.”
Chet shook his hand. “You did good, Kyle. You’ll make a hand, I know.”
Kyle looked ahead, nodded, and swallowed.
Chet knew he had hired a real hand. They could always use another one.
The ride to Mesa was uneventful, but the day went slow. One small horse was obviously wind broken. Another too old. The next one tried to bite them. Bad hooves, stove up. The list continued until someone arrived with a line back dun mare. Seven years old, broke to ride or drive. Chet bought her on the spot.
They rode back to the Mill. Kyle went home for his last night. Chet and his boys went into a bar that sold food the livery guy had recommended. All three ordered beer and the house special—barbeque and beans. The food looked super when it was delivered and the three were about to dig in when a big hairy guy waving a pistol came busting inside.
He didn’t need to speak. He was obviously drunk. Everyone rose and started to back up to the walls.
“Hold it right there, pard,” Chet said to him, knowing the bartender had a bat and was only five feet from the drunk behind the bar.
“Who dee hell are you?” The drunk floated backward into the bar.
“Why mister—”
The barkeep connected and the man’s knees collapsed. Chet kicked his gun aside and told everyone to go back to their tables. Then he handcuffed the big man behind his back.
“Thanks. Are you the law?” the bartender asked.
“I’m just passing through. Thanks for the bat.”
“Man, I’d not have tried him if you hadn’t got his attention. You damn sure weren’t afraid of him.”
“That’s for you to say.”
“What’s your name?”
“Byrnes. Chet Byrnes.”
“Let’s give him a cheer.” The yeas went up. “Whatcha drink?”
“This glass is enough.”
“Then I’ll feed you for doing that.”
“That’ll be fine.”
A lawman burst in.
“Marshal Paul, that man there did all your work.” A patron pointed to Chet.
“Them your cuffs?”
“Yes. I’d like to have them back.”
“Toss me your keys. I’ve got cuffs. Where you from?”
“Preskitt.”
“You county law up there?”
“No. U.S.”
“I’m glad you were here, sir.” Paul looked at the crowd. “Couple of you big guys drag him down to my jail.” He soon had two husky volunteers. “Oh, you get to keep this pistol. He won’t need it.” He handed it to Chet.
“Thanks.”
The barbeque was good and they enjoyed it.
Cole finally said, “Next time, give us some warning. I thought he’d shoot you.”
“You’d have shot him then, right?”
“Yeah, but I’d have to tell the Mrs. that I didn’t shoot fast enough.”
“Just so he didn’t walk away.” Chet finished his coffee.
The waiter came by. “Boss said you all eat free.”
Chet flipped him a silver dollar. “We enjoyed it.” Then he stuck the revolver in his waistband and they left the bar.
“How did you feel when that bartender cracked him on the head?” Jesus asked as they walked to their rooms.
“A helluva lot better than before. Back home in Texas, these two guys beat me up so bad I was laid up for weeks. Since then, I try to stay out of those situations. I didn’t think he was mad drunk. Mad drunks will kill you. But he damn sure might have shot at someone. I just did what I thought I could do. He never saw the barkeep coming with his bat. I planned for him to do that.”
“I hope I am that strong some day,” Jesus said.
“Live long enough, you will be.”
With their new cowboy, they rode north the next morning. Kyle wore brogan shoes and had enough clothes for the colder climate. Another north wind was blowing down off the rim. It would be cold up in the high country and they’d be home in plenty of time for Christmas. Chet had bought a few small sleigh bells and some red ribbon to put on the gift horses. But he’d had no idea what to get his wife. She had about everything a man could find to buy her.
He thought about what he’d purchased for his family. He had two new dresses for May and two shirts he’d had made for Hampt who was too big for store-bought sizes. Two shirts for Tom and two new Sunday dresses for Millie. Long tail, canvas coats for Susie and Lucy. He’d had one duster special-made for big Reg and one to fit Sarge. A doll for May’s daughter and some nice dresses, too. Marge had told him to get those. There were dolls for Tom’s girls and for his oldest boy, a felt hat.
It was all crazy—but nothing for his wife. Maybe Susie would go buy her something. All that and two good horses for the boys, plus a spare if he worked out.
On the sunny porch, Marge was dressed warm with Susie beside her when they returned home. They must have seen them coming, Chet decided.
The women admired the horses and approved. Jesus and Cole took the stock and led Kyle to the bunkhouse. With a gal under each arm, Chet walked them into the house. Monica came and hugged him, too.
“Who is the young man?”
“Marge, he’s Kyle. He wants to be a cowboy.”
“More who knows strays, Susie.” Marge shook her head.
Susie agreed. “He’s been bringing them home every chance he got all his life.”
“I won’t break him of it?” Marge asked.
Susie shook her head. “No chance.”
Well, at least Marge’s sense of humor was back.
Chet left the women in the living room and headed to the kitchen. Standing on a chair, Chet put the pistol up on a top shelf of the cabinets. It needed to be cleaned and oiled. It was a cap and ball and from his observations, had been abused. But unloaded and cleaned, it would be a good one, aside from the fact that there was a little space between the cylinder and barrel that meant it would spit hot lead at people.
He never mentioned the gun nor told anyone how he had acquired it. Simple enough, it was another revolver. He planned to replace his own sidearm with a new cartridge model. Several men he talked to said the new cartridges were more reliable. He kept his own clean and dry as he could and maybe only one in thirty shots proved to be a dud. His caliber choice would be a .44, then he could use the same ammo in his handgun and rifle.
Marge and Susie came into the kitchen and he sat and talked with them around the table until supper. He could tell his sister t
ook pride in her new man and sounded very pleased with him.
“I swear, he’s been bachelor so long, he’s having to learn a lot.”
“Like what?” Madge asked.
“That he can’t simply undress. He has to learn to hang everything up like he was going to be inspected in the morning.” Susie laughed freely. “But he’s catching on pretty fast.”
Chet noticed the mail his wife had opened carefully with a sharp knife and pulled it closer to read. One note was about an old man dying that his father knew in Arkansas when both were boys. As men, the two had fought in the Texas Revolution. The man’s daughter, who Chet didn’t recall, wrote it to his father and it had been forwarded to him.
He handed it to Susie to read.
The next was a letter from his banker Tanner that he was having a man pick up the mowers and rakes and would deliver them to him for two hundred dollars. What place, the man had wanted to know.
Chet looked up. “I better stop by and pay Tanner for the mowers and rakes.”
“Does he have one?” Marge asked, busy darning a hole in a sock.
“He told me Kay had two she never paid him for. I said I would not go get them because of previous things, but I would buy them.”
Marge shook her head. “I am so disappointed in her. We were friends. She treated JD so badly after she was free of her husband, I could not believe it. Oh, sorry. Gossip, of course. Have you met the new man at the mercantile? Ivors?”
“Yes. Ben. I ordered some farm machinery from him a week ago.”
“People say his wife’s so fussy no one can please her and she plans to leave her husband for moving here.”
“I guess they won’t come out to the dance then. I invited him to come.”
“She must come from money somewhere back east. Preskitt is not a bad place to live compared to the rest of the West.”
“Well, I like him. He’s a nice guy.”
Marge thought of something else. “Oh, I saw Kathrin in town. She’s still at the Scales, doing fine and said to thank you again for helping her get here.”
“She was a perfect lady and it wasn’t an easy trip with those four outlaws.”
“Did they make her uncomfortable?”
“No, she ignored them, but it wasn’t easy.”
“What are you doing next?” Susie asked.
“Oh, not much. I may go over to Hampt’s and look at his fencing project. There is plain steel wire in El Paso like we used in Texas for stake fencing, but I bet it takes months to get here. Maybe a dealer down at Hayden Mill has some we can start with.”
“We have some of that stake fencing at the Verde ranch, don’t we?” Susie asked.
“Lots of repairs. Tom has two men always fixing it. Ryan used poles too small to save money. Now, I can’t believe what we’ve done with that place. It is one helluva ranch.”
“Who will live in the big house, when I’m gone?”
“Susie, I don’t know. I am going to hire a couple to stay there and keep it open. We like to stay there after the dance. And a house setting empty soon collapses.”
The women agreed.
“Monica can find us a couple when the time comes,” Marge said.
Just then, someone rode up with several horses.
“Bet he wants to sell them to you,” Susie said.
Chet put on his coat and stepped out in the chilly wind. “Howdy,” he said to the red-faced man with his head wrapped in a scarf, riding a good horse.
“You Mr. Byrnes?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Jim Rose. Mr. Frey said you wanted some stout horses. I bought these horses in California about three months ago. I have three big teams that came from the Orange County Stage line dispersal. They’re hard to find—but maybe you know that or you wouldn’t be looking for them.”
“What are they worth?”
“Four hundred a team.”
“Awful high.”
“Let’s pen them and let you look. Heading for Utah next. Won’t be back, and I’ll say it again. Good big team horses like these are hard to find.”
Having heard the horses, Jesus was coming on the run. Chet hollered to him. “Open a corral, so we can cut out those teams and look at them.”
Jesus took off, and the two riders with Rose moved the two dozen horses in that direction.
“You sick?” Chet asked the man coming out the yard gate.
“I got a tooth been killing me for days. Ain’t had a place or time to stop long enough to get it pulled.”
“If you’re headed for Utah, there isn’t a dentist for two hundred miles. One of my men can take you back into town and you can get it pulled. The horses are fine here. I won’t charge you. Your men can eat with my crew. We’ve got bunkhouse space. Go get it fixed. That is a helluva trip and you won’t make it like this.
“Cole hitch a team. Mr. Rose needs a ride back into town to get a tooth pulled.”
“We can do that.” He took off to get it done.
“Jesus, you and Rose’s men catch three teams. I want to harness and have someone drive them.”
“We can do that. Three teams?”
“Maybe more if you look them over. There are two others that will work as a team.” Chet turned to Rose. “Come in the house. I have some whiskey for your ailment.”
Rose held up his hand. “I can’t barge in here.”
“I don’t know why not. Come on.”
Finally inside, Chet introduced his two women and sat Rose down.
“He probably doesn’t need coffee. Where is the whiskey? He has a bad tooth.”
“What needs to be done?” Marge asked, getting up to go for some.
“Cole’s taking him back to town to get it pulled.”
“Good idea.”
“I sure didn’t aim to bother you ladies,” Rose said.
She poured him about four fingers in a glass. “You sure aren’t.”
He took a big swallow. “My heavens, ma’am that’s almost too good a whiskey to treat a tooth with.”
“Hold some in your mouth. It may numb it.”
“Sure. Whew, that is expensive stuff, I bet.”
“We don’t drink, so it was just wasting in the pantry,” Marge offered.
“You Mormons?”
“No. We just don’t drink.”
He held the next swallow and then nodded. “That does help. I’ve been out of my head with the pain. Never thought of whiskey, though. I almost rode on instead of stopping here. I’ve been hurting so bad.”
Cole came in. “I’m ready.”
“Let him drink one more glass, then take him to the dentist.” Chet smiled.
“You bet. The boys are cutting out the teams.”
“Jesus can handle that. I’ll go down later and see how they are doing.”
The men started out of the house.
“Catch Cole for me and ask him to get the ranch mail if there is any,” Marge called out to Chet.
“Sure. I’ll get him.” His sharp whistle caught his man’s attention. He hurried to stop him. Rose was already on the seat.
“Cole, get the ranch mail for my wife while you’re in there.”
“Sure thing, no problem. I’ll bring it back when they get him fixed up.”
“Thanks. Be careful.”
With Cole and Rose on the road to town, Chet watched the teams being driven around. They were a little high headed, but they had not been driven in quite a while so that didn’t seem to be a problem. Jesus was checking them for age and soundness. They found two more teams—not as big—but that would do fine on hay rakes.
The old boy—Happens—who’d come with Rose was spitting tobacco and thanking Chet in a long drawl. “I couldn’t talk no sense in Rose about that durn tooth. I sure do appreciate you taking charge, Mr. Byrnes.”
“What about the rest of these horses?”
“They’re all young ranch horses. Aw, they might buck—a little. My paw said a horse won’t buck wasn’t worth—well you know that wo
rd rhymes with buck. Anyway, there’s three nice mares in this lot. I understood they were Kentucky stock.”
“They open?” Chet had been watching them. They might make good brood mares for his golden stud Barbarossa.
“Sure are and they’ve been pure hell to drive. And they come in heat all at different times.”
Chet laughed. He could imagine some proud cut geldings and some mares could be a mess to drive. Everyone, everyone rode geldings on drives.
“Look at the mares, too,” he told Jesus in passing.
He heard him.
“You sure got a pretty spread up here,” Happens mentioned.
“This was my wife’s family ranch. My working outfit is down on the Verde north of here.”
“You ain’t no Arizona regular.”
“No. We came from the hill country in Texas.”
Happens frowned. “You like it here that well?”
“I like it better than the damn Texas feud I was in back there.”
Happens straightened his suspenders and buttoned his coat against the cold. He spit aside before he spoke. “I damn sure would, too.”
The men had the horses all haltered and tied so they took a break, waiting for Rose’s return. There were five teams possible. Ten cowponies had been ridden and the three mares checked out.
“Why, hell”—Happens spit tobacco aside—“you buy all them then we ain’t going to Utah. That makes me happy.”
“I’m going to try. Good horses are hard to find, especially out here.”
“Your man says you got a Barbarossa stud. I ain’t never hear of one of them outside of that big hacienda.”
“A boy had a mare and he put out a challenge. If his mare could outrun the patron’s best horse could he get a stud fee? Lose the race, he’d loose the mare. He beat their best horse and the patron bred the mare. The colt was too valuable for him to own, I bought him as a yearling, and brought him to Arizona with my family. We came by wagon from west Texas.”
“You must have a tough family.” Happens shook his head. “Damn nice to meet ’cha.”
“We are indeed tough. And I’m glad you all came by. Come to the house. Cole will be back soon. Where is your other man?”
“He went to the cook shack. I probably should go there, too. Being on the road it’s hard to stay clean.”
Blood on the Verde River Page 31
