The O'Malleys of Texas

by Dusty Richards

  “Rest a minute.” Harp settled down on his haunches; he could tell the man had been pushing himself too hard. “Yes. They’ll stay with a decent cook and we get the other things ironed out.”

  “I saw your dad. He’s trying to round up two dozen more ranch horses for me. He also says we can use his big blue steer if you boys will bring him back.”

  “We need to go get him?”

  “No. He’s bringing him and those horses in two days.”

  “Good, then I think the boys will be fine. They tell me they’ll stay if we get a good cook.”

  Emory jabbed his thumb in his chest and made a face that showed he was in pain.

  “That bullet hurting you?”

  “It does from time to time. Guess I’ve been doing too much to get things going.”

  Harp agreed. Somehow the man had to take it easier or he’d not make the whole trip.

  He asked his boss, “We have not talked to you about the route we will take. Do you have maps?”

  “Just hand-drawn ones. We head north. Go west of Fort Worth and swing in on the Butterfield Road up through the Indian Territory around Fort Smith. Then north through Arkansas Boston Mountains; through Fayetteville, Arkansas; to Cassville, Missouri. On the plains above the Missouri line we head east. When we get to Springfield we head north to Sedalia.”

  “That is the railhead?” Harp asked.

  “Yes. They shut down all the railroad building for the war. The other one up there is at Rolla. But it is way over. Lots of mountains and hard to get through that way.”

  “Missouri was about halfway either side during the war wasn’t it?”

  “Yes, lots of support for both sides and know we will meet some opposition going up there. I have two dozen forty-caliber new Winchester rifles in the old wagon and the ammo for them. I don’t want war, but I don’t want to be denied a chance to market those steers.”

  “My opinion is to get those men familiar with those rifles. So if the day comes to push or shove we are prepared to handle the matter.”

  “Good idea. I am not going north to pick a fight, but the delivery and sale of those cattle is my business.”

  “I understand. You have plans to hire anyone else?”

  “I think you and Long can handle it. You both are educated. I spoke to your father earlier. I know he is a leader, and he told me you boys were as good as him at getting things done. He said with the Comanche still on the prowl out there, someone must stay home to defend the ranch and your mother.”

  Harp agreed with a wary shake of his head. “Long and I know all about that big bell steer. It’ll be driving him home that will be the real task.”

  “I promised we’d get him back.”

  “Yes, sir. You say he’s bringing more horses, too?”

  “He says up to twenty or so head. The best I could do.”

  Harp agreed. “That will help.”

  “They left that bullet in me, too close to my heart they said, and warned me it could dislodge and then I might be in dire danger of dying. If anything goes wrong on this trip, I want you and Long to finish the job and get the money that is hers back to my wife, Anna. And all the rest involved in this will need to be paid as well. Harp, I want to teach you all I know about dickering over cattle prices if I am not here. I hope I’ll be doing that. There is nothing I want more than to come home with money that will provide for my family’s future.”

  “We also want you there and to come back.”

  “I am a realist. There is a chance I won’t and then it lies with you boys. I consider you two men. Secure the money. Folks will know you took cattle up there and received money for them. You will be like an open-door bank and they will rob or try to rob you, make no mistake. These are the most desperate times in this country I have ever seen, and trust me, peace will make them even more desperate.”

  “Emory, Long and I will do what is necessary. Go sleep for a few hours. I can set that new cook on the right course and then you go home and be with your wife. If we need more food, I can get it from Kerrville—Mr. Yost at the mercantile, right? You explained to him who I am?”

  “Yes. He’s another man we will have to pay when we return.”

  “No problem. Just to be sure I got the plan right . . . in two days we start for Fort Worth and swing west around there to get on the Butterfield Stage Road headed north?”

  “Exactly right; that is the plan.”

  “Good. Long and I will do the rest. Now, I ain’t got any cooties. Use my bedroll; get some sleep. The O’Malley brothers are here.”

  “You two aren’t really brothers are you?”

  “Yes, we are. Long’s father got killed buffalo hunting. Mom married my dad, Hiram, up in Arkansas before Long was even born. I came nine months later. We’re like twin brothers. Only thing he can do better than me is put a hand ax in a tree at a greater distance than I can. But we can both shoot the eyes out of squirrels and wild turkey on the wing. Not bragging but we are the O’Malley brothers from Camp Verde, Texas. We’ve been authorized as Texas Rangers since we were fourteen, patrolling for Comanche. Read, write, and been to school. We can handle it.”

  “I never doubted it a minute. I’ll get me a little sleep. You two are the top men.”

  When Long rode in, Harp told him the entire story. When he finished, his brother shook his head. “Harp, you know how hard it will be to get that damn bell steer home from up there?”

  “I know, but Dad may whup our butts if we don’t bring him back.” Amused by the notion, Harp laughed at their situation.

  Long shook his head in disgust. “I wouldn’t have agreed to that under any circumstances.”

  “Well, we’ve got him anyway. Start training another point man to take your place. You’re going to scout ahead for the drive.”

  Long moved his head in a circle. “I’ve never been up there.”

  “You will have when this is over. Trust me, you will have been.”

  “He sleeping?” Long gave a head toss in that direction.

  “Yes, he’s kind of done his self in all this getting ready.”

  With the hard look that was his brother’s habit when considering things, he finally nodded. “We can handle it.”

  “That’s what I told him. Dad did, too.”

  “Hell, then, brother, we better do it.”

  Three of their cowhands wore the remains of their service in the Confederate Army. Gray forage caps of soldiers and the shirt or someone else’s gray uniform shirt. One by one he’d need to redress them. It wasn’t he cared one way or the other, but moving north they’d become a point of contention with people who’d fought against that side. Harp had no ideas what friction they’d face over their origin, but he wanted no remains to flaunt at them. Their drawl alone might be enough to start a new war.

  One thing he knew damn good and well, even if a peace accord was signed, some folks would never be over fighting that conflict. He had to start on Chaw first. He was one of them that wore that gray brand.

  Emory had recovered some. He thanked Harp for recommending the rest and promised to return before they set out.

  After supper Harp took Chaw aside. “Chaw,” he said to the man’s back, busy pissing in the bushes. “Did Long tell you my plans?”

  “He mentioned something to me this afternoon.” He finished and buttoned his fly.

  “We are picking another man to ride point with you. Long is going to be our scout.”

  “You have anyone you thinking of ?”

  “You have someone for us to talk to?”

  “Let me think on it.” He reset the cap on his head.

  “That’s another thing. We’re going right into the heart of Yankee country with these steers. It will be bad enough to be Texans, but I don’t want another war. You earned those clothes you have on, but we ain’t wanting or having another battle. I want you and the other boys with uniform parts to find a hat and a plain shirt. Save these to show your kids someday. You earned every thread in them, but
it would be like carrying the Confederate flag at the head of the herd to ride up there in those partial uniforms.”

  “You make sense to me. I’ll talk to the other two. The steers will be enough to handle. I’m glad you saw it. I’d worn it till it was threadbare. Like you said, I earned the right but we may have holy hell getting these bawling bastards up there anyway. I looked on a map and that place ain’t fur from Iowa is it?”

  “If you boys ain’t got a change of clothes I will buy some.”

  “We may have to do that. I bet there ain’t twenty cents in any of our pockets.”

  “Let me know. I thought they’d listen to you more than me.”

  “I’ll be thinking about that guy you want for point rider. Long said your dad had some good horses he was bringing?”

  “Yes. You point men will need them.”

  “That sounds good, too.”

  Later he told Long about talking to Chaw.

  “That was smart. I bet he handles it and no one gets their backs up over it. Bro, you are learning things that we’ve never been challenged by before. Good going. You get your new cook lined out. I’d say if he’d take the point job, Doug Pharr is smart enough to do that job with Chaw.”

  “He gets things done quietly.”

  “And he ain’t afraid to work, either.”

  Harp nodded. “Emory said the cook he hired would be here shortly.”

  “Good. I’m getting some sleep now. You’ve got me on the last shift in the night.”

  Harp nodded. He wanted someone alert with the herd about then.

  Two men showed up the next morning after breakfast. They were ranchers from east of San Antonio—Mike Beersley and Stafford Collins. Beersley was a big man and Collins obviously had some money. He was dressed more businesslike.

  “We came to talk to Emory. We heard he was going to try and get by the Yankee forces to sell his beef at the railhead. Is that true?”

  “He’s not up here yet today, but that’s our plan. Emory used to be a captain and he says that during the war they ate up all the chickens and hawgs left in the United States. The north has money, so they might as well eat some Texas beef.”

  “Where do you think they will stop you?”

  “Emory told my brother and I the first place may be up around Fort Smith.”

  “How are you going up there?”

  “Drive up west of Fort Worth, then take the Butterfield Stage Road north to Missouri. Then at Springfield, Missouri, go north to Sedalia. He thinks Rolla, the other railhead, is in tougher country to reach at that point.”

  “Why, you talk like you’ve been up there,” Collins said.

  Harp nodded. He wasn’t bragging that was the route.

  Beersley asked, “He ever tell you what he expects them steer to bring up there?”

  “Right now he says from forty to sixty dollars apiece.”

  Beersley whistled through his teeth. “A thousand steer is sixty thousand bucks.”

  Harp shook his head. “We expect to deliver around eight hundred head.”

  Collins nodded slowly. “That means you have to get them there. You look mighty young to be ramrodding this outfit.”

  “He tried a drunk in charge.”

  “I guess that answers our questions. He’s a brave man starting out. If you get to the Arkansas border, they confiscate the herd as enemy property.”

  “They might try that. Most of the guys with us have seen action either fighting Comanche or Yankees, so we don’t aim to have that happen. But it might.”

  “If you make it and can sell them, you will make Texas history,” Collins said, sounding like the deal had impressed him. “We need some way to make money in this poor state, and these wild cattle may pave the way. Good luck and nice to meet you. I hope someday I can tell my grandkids that I shook the hand of the first drover to get through.”

  Harp hoped it turned out that way, too. The two men rode off.

  Harp set in to check on how much his employees knew about the Winchester rifles that Emory had bought. He had all the guys left in camp gathered and he explained to them the gun’s features.

  “You side-load bullets in it, cock the lever, and it loads the bullets. These are forty-four-caliber rim fire bullets, and when we issue the guns we will give you bullets. I hope to hell we don’t ever need them, but if we do you will appreciate having a smooth-action gun that fires bullets until the next day. You boys need to count your bullets, too. Reload at any break. They told me fighting Comanche, if you can’t hit a buck, kill his horse. Afoot he’ll be easier to kill. Any questions?”

  “We going to carry them?” one boy asked.

  “I think we will issue them if we have problems. We aren’t an army. We ain’t going north to fight a war. We’re delivering cattle. I don’t want to appear like an army save that we need to be looking like one to protect our jobs. Only way we will get paid is deliver steers to a market and collect the money, not fighting a war that’s done been lost. We are not going there for revenge. We are selling cattle and that is our only purpose. Everyone savvy?”

  No one questioned his words. He noted that all the gray shirts and caps were gone, too.

  One of the younger boys came by. “Mr. O’Malley, how soon we leaving?”

  “Next day or so. Why?”

  “Just wondering. No one acts like they know. I thought you’d have the day.”

  “Soon. Very soon.”

  Emory rode up and joined them. Harp told him he sent two boys after the supplies Doug listed as needed and they would be back the next day. He mentioned the two men coming by asking questions. Then he said, “They haven’t got the nerve, themselves.”

  Harp shook his head, then mentioned Collins’s last words. “He said we would make Texas history if we made it.”

  Emory smiled. “I hope so, too.”

  “I took the liberty of asking the men who wore Confederate uniforms to change. I didn’t want anyone to think we were still fighting. They agreed and that is now all settled.”

  “That is great thinking. I’d never thought about that. You’re right. We aren’t war scavengers; we are Texas cattlemen on a mission. What else?”

  “I explained about our rifles to half the men. I will tell the rest later today. The rifles will be in the cook’s wagon unless we need them. I don’t want us to bristle with guns unless we need them.”

  “You’re doing fine. The cook will be here late today. I went his bail. Guess he went on a bender when I gave him a few dollars to settle things so he could leave.”

  “If we have to, we can dry him out.”

  “I wish I’d had you in my company in the army. You’d made a helluva non-com.”

  “Dad, Long, and I were shooting Comanche. We could have used you as well.”

  “I heard about that, too. Good. I am hopeful we make it and don’t have a skirmish, but I am like you . . . be prepared to be challenged.”

  Late that evening their father and three other neighbors brought the lead steer and twenty head of good horses. Doug fed them and they visited up into the night.

  “Boys,” Hiram said to the assembled men at the campfire, “I been wishin’ I was going along with the likes of you. These boys, I call them, have protected me backside since they were twelve. But their mother needs someone around and me neighbors do, too. You all have a safe trip and find us a market for these longhorns. We all could use some money in our pockets to jingle. God be with you all and see yeah when yeah get back ’cher.”

  The crewmembers in camp gave him a cheer.

  Harp had expected a lecture on them returning his steer. Shame that Long was asleep but he’d tell him. Be different, not having his father to tell them what to do with all his experience he used outsmarting a war party or getting hostages back.

  The toughest time Harp could recall was when the three of them were trapped in a buffalo wallow for three days until they shot enough bucks that they finally left them alone. But they had to walk a long ways out since their o
wn horses had been shot. Times out there he didn’t expect to ever see the home place or their mom again.

  Later on he told Long about their father’s speech and him not mentioning that steer’s return, either.

  “He must’ve forgot we had him. But he’s not about to forget us for not bringing him back I can tell you that now.”

  They laughed over it.

  “The cook is coming. Doug Pharr is interested in the point man position.”

  “When do we roll?”

  “In a day I guess. Why don’t you look north tomorrow and find a place we can camp that first night. Note any problems.”

  “Those boys can watch the herd. I’ll take Carl along . . . he’s got good eyes.”

  “Do that.”

  “I keep thinking, what did we forget?”

  Harp nodded. “Me too. But it will slap us in the face on the road I guess.”

  “Right. I’ll be up for the morning shift. Talk more later.”

  Harp’s shoulders felt stitched together. They were tight and made his neck hurt. His mind kept hitting blind corners. Maybe being on the move would ease some of that, but somehow he felt it would pain him all the way to Sedalia. In his bedroll at last he finally fell asleep.

  But what did we leave out?

  CHAPTER 3

  Harp and Emory traced and retraced a route on the maps spread out on the board table, under the flapping canvas shade, of how to come out west of Fort Worth. That would be a month. Then they’d have the stage route to follow to where they crossed the Red River and use it up through the Indian Territory to Fort Smith. On the far side of the Arkansas River at Fort Smith, they’d go north on the Butterfield route to Cassville, then over to Springfield. From there take the main road that went north to Sedalia, Missouri, and the railhead.

  It looked easy on paper. But he could imagine all the problems they’d have from weather and people still wanting to resurrect fighting all over again. But they would make it. He had no doubt about that whatsoever.