Pray for the Dead

by Dusty Richards

  Victor arrived, anxious to hear all about the meeting. Chet asked him if he and John the blacksmith could go over several buckboards he might buy and rebuild them for tough service.

  “We have Hampt’s farm machinery to go over and rebuild this winter, but we can fix any buckboards you have.”

  “Hampt didn’t miss a chance to get his machinery all fixed, did he?”

  “When he got word I was going over the ranch’s equipment, he got in line. He don’t miss much. He also showed me some things I could do better down here.” Victor shook his head in respect. “For a cowboy, he knows lots about farming.”

  “I appreciate him. Good, if you see a buckboard for sale, tie it up. Even parts from a wrecked one we can use.”

  “I have seen some around.”

  “How do you like farming?”

  “I like it. We’re fencing up at the Hereford setup. Tom needs hay cut up there instead of hauling it from down here. We’ll probably need a few more mowing machines.”

  “How many?”

  “Four?”

  “Rakes, beaver boards? The same?”

  “Yes, sir,” the young man replied. “We could use them all.”

  “I’ll see my man in town when I get home. It takes a while to get them here.”

  “I hope I am not spending too much money.”

  “If we need these things, we need them,” Chet said simply.

  “Thank you. Rhea and I appreciate this great house and getting to care for Adam.”

  “I know you do, and boy, he sure is growing up. I should have made Cole show you his brother’s tintype, but he had to get back to his wife. They both look like Byrneses to me.”

  When he and Liz went to bed that evening, they talked about the stage deal for a long while.

  “This looks like a massive job.”

  “We’ll need some way stations for fresh horses, no matter how primitive. Several horses and buckboards, which depends on the schedule he must keep and the employees necessary to support them.”

  “How many stops?”

  “I think ten. About every forty miles. We’d need help from Reg and Lucy on the west, and the Windmill on the east. They’ll be crude to start with, and I hope to make some of those with the scattered ranchers across the road.”

  She rolled over and hugged him. “He came to talk to a farmer and met my husband.”

  “I thought so, too.”

  “He had no plans to meet that deadline. You gave him the idea and he has no organization to even set it up.” She shook her head in the dark. “Carpenter is not a man I’d have, except maybe in the office. They were going to build stations without water even, just because they fit the distance.”

  “Exactly. I got a little mad when he asked Cole how much education he had. Cole Emerson could make circles around his man and get it done.”

  “Oh, he’ll learn,” she said in a woman’s knowing tone. “He didn’t intimidate Cole.”

  “I thought they were kind of aloof when they got there. Is that the right word?”

  “Oh, yes, that’s the word. They were aloof, but they left talking different.”

  “What’s next?” he asked.

  “You.”

  “Oh, yes. There are times I could shout over our life it is so exciting. And I thank my God we found each other.”

  CHAPTER 18

  Back home the next day by noon, Valerie and Cole had brought his son for his inspection. When he saw the boy, Chet dropped on his knees. “How are you?”

  The boy looked at him and smiled.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Rocky.”

  “Rocky, I am so glad to meet you.”

  “There is a pony?” he asked Chet.

  “I will have to see.”

  Valerie spoke up. “I’m sorry, Chet, I promised him a pony. They told us he liked to ride, but we’ve been on the go. I had no idea if you have one. Cole thought there was one here.”

  “I think the vaqueros’ sons have some we could use. Raphael will be here soon now we’re back. I’ll ask him.”

  “He really must like them. He rode one real good being led around in Texas.”

  “We’ll find you a pony, cowboy.”

  “Did you have one as a boy?” Liz asked him, taking the boy in her arms.

  “No pony. I had a small mustang I rode to first grade at the schoolhouse about two miles away. First day, they gave me a lunch in a lard bucket, some hobbles, and sent me off to grade one.

  “Oh, I had to. My father was out of it when they brought him back. I was eighteen when I first went north to Kansas with cattle. I had lots to do.”

  “Neither you nor your brother served in the war, though,” she said.

  “No, we were on the western frontier fighting Comanche. I think if the war had lasted much longer they’d have come after us.”

  “I wondered. So many Texans were drafted.”

  “Hey, we’ll find you a pony today,” he promised the boy. He got a smile in return.

  “Cole said we’re getting in the stage business,” Jesus said as they entered the house.

  “Well, everyone sit down for lunch and we’ll talk about it.”

  “Thank you,” Monica said as everyone headed to the big kitchen table.

  “Oh, you’re welcome. Jesus, we’re planning to help them keep the contract by setting up a buckboard delivery to handle it until they get the stage line set up. Cole and I talked to them about doing that since there’s no way to get the stage stops built in six months.”

  “That would take some doing, too.”

  “I agree. But we’ll help them if they want us.”

  “Were they agreeing?” the young man asked.

  “I think so. They’re businessmen, not doers. Kind of stiff shirt, but realists.”

  Monica was standing at the kitchen window. “Someone just rode up. He looks upset.”

  Chet rose and went to answer the door. Looking out the window, he said over his shoulder, “It’s the man runs the Black Canyon Stage Line up here.”

  “Clark Ryan,” Cole said.

  He opened the door. “Good afternoon, sir. I’m Chet Byrnes. What can we do for you?”

  “Mr. Byrnes, I’ve been intending to meet you,” Ryan began without preamble. “There was a holdup last night on the stage for Hayden’s Ferry. Four men held it up and escaped with a large shipment of gold and money. I talked myself blue this morning asking Sheriff Simms to form a posse and go after them, but all he says is his men will investigate and he doesn’t believe a posse will do any good. I’ve talked to his stonewall all morning. Can you help me?”

  “A posse of town men won’t help,” Chet told him. He turned back to the table. “Jesus, get some packhorses and supplies loaded up. Tell Raphael we need two of his men to go along with the four of us.”

  “Thank you,” Liz said, realizing she was counted in that number of posse members going.

  “Better get some riding clothes,” he said. “It will be cold.”

  She nodded. “I can do that. Mr. Ryan, please sit down and eat. Monica has plenty of food.”

  The stage manager bowed his head. “Thank you, ma’am. I sure am hungry.”

  “Go ahead.” Chet showed him a chair. “Now I need some details. How many men were involved in the robbery again?”

  “Four. But it was dark and there may have been more. Beside the gold, there was a large sum of money, as well, being sent to Tucson. Ten thousand dollars.”

  “They must have had a pack train,” Cole said.

  “Big mules,” Ryan confirmed. “It was well planned and they had help and information.”

  Chet frowned. “Did the sheriff say why he opposed a posse going after them?”

  “He said it would do no good.”

  “Do you think they rode into Bloody Basin?”

  “They went that way. The stage line will pay you for doing this. So will Wells Fargo.”

  “We won’t worry about that now. When we get them,
you can pay a reward to my people.”

  Chet excused himself to get ready and met Liz in the living room. Touching his arm, she stopped him. “Should I stay here? Christmas is coming fast.”

  “If you can stand it,” he said quietly. “You might do the Christmas setup while we’re on these outlaws’ trail.”

  “I can stand all but not having you. I’ll stay and get us ready for the holiday.”

  He kissed her. “Thanks, partner.”

  “You be careful, hombre. I fear these men are very smart criminals.”

  “I hadn’t thought much about that yet, but they sure sound that way.”

  “Just be careful.” She pulled him down enough to kiss him again.

  “I will. Those two little boys sure look like brothers, don’t they?”

  “Yes, they do. I can pack you a bag. I know you need more information from Mr. Ryan.”

  “Thanks.” He went back to the kitchen. “Liz is staying here to get ready for Christmas, Monica.”

  “Well, thank God for that.”

  “I hate to mess up your life,” Ryan said.

  “It won’t, Mr. Ryan. This is our job.” He sat back down. “Back to the holdup. No one was shot or hurt?”

  “No, they had a fire and the road blocked. One of the men ran back to the coach and told them there was a rockslide ahead and someone was pinned beneath it. The driver and guard rushed down to see if they could help. Perfect plan. The woman and two men left in the coach were unarmed.”

  “Who were they?” Chet asked.

  “I have their names. Why ask about them?”

  “Just curious. You said it was carefully planned.”

  Ryan still looked confused.

  “If they were not armed, they could have been there to make sure the plan worked,” Cole explained. “They could be suspects.”

  “Oh, hell. I never thought of that.” Clark looked distressed by his words. “I didn’t know them, and they went on. But they had been staying in town on business, they said. I have their names and addresses in my office in town.”

  “We can investigate them later. They probably had nothing to do with the robbery, but one has to look at all aspects. There had to be an insider in this somewhere. The shipment of such things is secret?”

  “Of course. And we send lots of stages south every day that haven’t got a dime on them. Someone tipped them off, didn’t they?”

  “Sounds that way. In time, I bet you discover the culprit. But keep your investigation very quiet or they will spook and run.”

  “I’m learning, Mr. Byrnes. I really am. I was so upset Simms wouldn’t chase them down. He acted like they would give up to some other law enforcement agency and he’d just go get them.”

  “That’s just Sheriff Simms’s style,” Chet said with a laugh. “But we will pursue them, have no concern about that.”

  “I knew you would. Thank you, sir.”

  “Did you get a description of the men?”

  “Only the man who told them about the rockslide,” Ryan said. “The rest wore masks.”

  “Tell me about him.”

  “He was fortyish. Looked like a cowboy, but had a belly and a mustache. Wore a dirty gray hat, the usual vest, and a red kerchief. Green eyes and a scar under his left eye.”

  “That helps. A lot.”

  “The driver said the one leading the robbery was six foot tall, powerfully built, and had a deep voice. And he was a Texan by his dialect, they said. You could hear his voice from way off.”

  “Good leads,” Chet said, writing them down. “We get their tracks we’ll find them.”

  “I sure hope you do that. Being wintertime, I hate for you and your men to be out there.”

  “We take the good and the bad.”

  Raphael showed up then. He met Ryan and told Chet who he would send with him. “Ramon Torres and Bennie Cottrell.”

  “Are they dressed warm enough?”

  “Sí. They are young and tough enough to stay up with you. They can shoot, too.”

  Chet was amused by his words, ‘tough enough to stay with you.’ “They may outdo me.” He laughed.

  “No one can do that, señor. But they can stay for it all.”

  “Glad you have such faith in my staying power,” Chet said teasingly. “Liz will need help setting up for Christmas here.”

  “Oh, the whole outfit will help her. They always enjoy your Christmas parties.”

  An hour later, Cole reported they were ready to ride. Chet kissed Liz good-bye and mounted one of his solid red roans for the trip. He’d be the one to cross the mountains on. There were faster ones, but none near as tough for this trip and the rough country they must go over.

  By mid-afternoon, they found the site of the fire where the stage was robbed. Jesus picked up their trail to the east off the Black Canyon Road. The shod mule tracks were a dead giveaway. Headed into the vast Bloody Basin, Chet had memories of chasing other outlaws through this tough country of junipers, prickly cholla, century plants, and pancake cactus beds with cottonwoods long turned yellow in the draws.

  The sun was almost down when they made camp in a spring-fed draw. The two vaqueros were excited to be along and thanked him for the opportunity.

  “No need in thanking me for you being away from your wife, Bennie. And Ramon being away from a warm bed.”

  “Señor Chet, we both are honored,” Bennie replied. “It beats hauling firewood to a big pile.”

  “Well, the boys and me are glad to have you both along with us today. We’ll track down these hombres and recover the loot, but we may be on the trail for days. Jesus says they also must have a pack train, judging by the tracks. So they’ll avoid people if they can, so their getaway won’t be noticed. The last rustlers and killers I chased through here had to stop and rob people for their supplies.”

  “And the deputy made Raphael come back with him and not go help you,” Ramon said. “Raphael has never forgotten that.”

  “That wasn’t his fault. But those hombres are no more.”

  “What will we do when we catch them?”

  “Arrest them. We do things by the law today.”

  “Those horse rustlers you sought chose to fight. I have talked to Lupe about them. She said she took him medicine and he shot himself. That still bothers her.”

  “None of us expected that. She’s a good woman.”

  Ramon nodded. “I asked Raphael about a casa if she would marry me.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said he would ask you one day when you were in a good mood.” They all laughed at his words.

  “Ramon, if you want to marry her you will have a casa.”

  “Bueno, gracias. When we get back, I will ask her.”

  “Sí, mi amigo,” Bennie said. “How lucky you are. Not only getting to ride after outlaws but now you can get married.”

  “Ramon, don’t hold her past against her,” Chet warned. “She really worked and helped us. It was not by her choice she was there as much as she was taken there and had no way to escape it.”

  “She said you liberated her from hell,” the boy said.

  “We thought that, too, didn’t we, guys?”

  “Ramon, have you ever been in the mercantile in town?” Cole asked.

  “Sí.”

  “You know the owner Ben’s wife, Kathren?”

  “I have seen her.”

  “She was caught like that in an outlaw camp up in Utah and couldn’t escape. Chet brought her home and she found Ben. His wife had left him.”

  “She’s a very nice lady.”

  “We better eat. This won’t stay hot long.”

  At least it wasn’t that cold so far, Chet mused. But he dreaded the nights ahead. In the daytime they had sunshine. And while it was not the warmest sun, it would keep the exposed side of his body heated. They would have to push hard to catch this bunch of criminals, with a long day’s head start on them. Maybe he and two of the others could rush ahead and try to catch them. Have the
others bring the pack train on from the rear.

  They had the tracks to follow, anyway. They were three days from reaching the Oxbow Road. That was his name for the north-south road from the rim to Fort McDowell. When they reached that route, they’d either go north or south.

  When they finished supper, he told them his plan. “Before dawn I want four of us in the saddle in an attempt to ride them down. The last man will bring the packhorses and catch us. Bennie, you have a wife, Ramon don’t. Well, not yet anyway. You bring the packhorses. Don’t kill them. You can catch us tomorrow night or the next day. Maybe we can catch this group, but it also may be a desperate run for nothing. We’ll go ahead at first light.”

  “One thing, boss?” Cole asked.

  “What is it, Cole?”

  “Jesus and I have rode with you for years. We never did this before. And we always got our men.”

  Chet sighed. “I fear these men are smarter than any we’ve ever tracked before. I don’t want them to escape. I don’t—think we’re doing enough.”

  “We’re with you, of course. And this may work. I just liked the old way better.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Cole shrugged. “You’re the boss.”

  Before dawn cracked the sky, they were loaded and the four men rode on. The trail they took was not as easy as the road that the other outlaws had taken to reach the Verde.

  Chet saw the obvious hack marks on trees to locate the way while they pushed the horses anywhere they could, even going so far as to hold their horses’ tails when they scrambled up the steep places that the desperate men used. After two hours of this kind of hard riding, several buzzards circled ahead.

  Everyone saw them.

  “Probably a horse they had to shoot,” Chet said aloud.

  Cole agreed. “We’ll be lucky we don’t have to shoot one of our own. These guys are crazy taking all these risks.”

  “They mapped this escape route. You can see the traces.” Jesus pointed to a nearby tree trunk. “Those are not new hack marks.”

  Chet reined the roan up another hard climb to the top of the mountainside. The gelding made it in six cat hops, and what he saw at the top shocked him.

  It was not a horse lying on the ground among the hopping buzzards.