Pray for the Dead

by Dusty Richards

  “Let’s go back inside,” he said. “Thank you, Jesus. Sorry you had to be the bearer of such hard news.”

  Jesus turned his hands up and shook his head in disappointment.

  “No, you did the right thing. I’ll write a letter to take to Drew and tell him he is your foreman. We’ll hold back about the funeral until as many as possible can come.”

  “You’re going to write a letter for them to take?” Jesus asked. “I can go down there.”

  “No, you’ve been through enough. Raphael has a boy can do that. I have to ride down and tell his mother—”

  About then Cole, Valerie, and Rocky arrived in a fast buckboard. Cole reined up, his face pale and drawn. “Tell me it isn’t so?”

  Chet held up his hand. “No, Cole. You heard the truth.”

  “Oh, Lucy.” Valerie handed the boy to her husband, jumped off the buckboard, and ran to Lucy. Both women were in tears as they held one another. The scene knifed him. Had he been the final one to drive the suicide knife into Reg? Go see a doctor before you go home.

  No, it was deeper than that and he would probably never understand what happened. Somewhere in Reg’s mind, bad things in his life had shifted against him. His limited ability to walk, ride, or move through life may have sentenced him to such a terrible act. But he had always been a leader—a shadow of his uncle.

  Chet closed his dry eyes from the bite of the north wind. This was the worst damn Christmas day he’d ever had in his life. Even worse than the day when they realized the Comanche had swept away with the twins. Maybe he wasn’t old enough then to know how serious that loss was—but this day struck him harder than losing a wife or finding a woman he loved murdered in her bloody bed.

  Lord, find me the strength . . . to face the dark days ahead.

  CHAPTER 22

  Louise and Harold Parker had not attended the Christmas party. Usually, they came together, but Louise approached him while they were in town the week before Christmas and apologized to him for their absence in advance. They were taking that evening for Harold’s family and ranch crew. Chet understood and told her not to worry about it. Then she said, jokingly, “I know JD can’t come. Lord he’s like you busy running that big place. I’m lucky his wife Bonnie writes me. I’m certain Reg and Lucy will bring the baby by while they are down here.”

  “Oh, yes.”

  After years of his aunt barking at him about everything, when she’d met Harold and married him, all that had settled down. Now he was going to have to steel himself to tell her about Reg.

  Liz accompanied him and they drove to their fine ranch headquarters. The wind was still sharp, but the sun radiated some heat on their front side driving south. The stock dogs started barking up a storm as they came up the drive, and Harold came out, dressed to the tees. Even at home he wore the smart clothes of a successful businessman.

  “Merry Christmas, to the both of you,” the older man said pleasantly as they dismounted.

  “Harold,” Chet said in a low voice, keeping a tight rein on his emotions. “I come on a mission with sad news. Reg shot himself last night.”

  “He did?” Pale now, Harold turned and caught his wife coming down the porch steps to greet them. “Louise, let’s go back inside. We—well, they’re here with some bad news.”

  “On Christmas?” Louise asked, confused.

  Chet took off his hat when he entered and held it before him, his grip so tight on the brim his knuckles were white. “Louise, I am so sorry to tell you this, but—well, last night, Reg took his own life. None of us know why. He left no note.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Are . . . are Lucy and the baby alright?” She looked very pale. He and Harold showed her to the couch, where she shivered and tried to catch her breath. “You have no idea why?”

  “No. Lucy doesn’t know, except since he had the bad horse wreck a few weeks back and was laid up. He was still in pain but I asked him to see a doctor about it while he was down here.”

  Tears spilled down her cheeks. “My God! Harold, my oldest did that. He was twice as strong as the others. Oh, I just want to go cry by myself.”

  “You aren’t by yourself, my dear,” her husband soothed her. “You and I can do many things. We have, and this, too, will pass. Cry now but realize that life counts on the living to carry forth.”

  Chet felt he could not have said it better himself, and with Harold to comfort her in their very perfect, decorated house, he and Liz would slip off and leave them. It was the respectful thing to do.

  Harold saw them out and thanked them kindly. Chet shook his hand and promised him they would be told when and where the funeral would take place.

  “My first visit to her house,” Liz said after a few moments of silence. “Would you like your house to look like hers?”

  Chet shook his head violently. “Not no, but hell no. And I am not wearing a buttoned vest and suit coat to relax in, either, my darling.”

  “She was dressed just as well, too. It’s not Sunday, either. I suspect they dress like that every day.”

  He flicked the team into a trot. “That woman was pure hell to live with under the same roof in Texas. I could have killed her more than once. I offered to sponsor her to go back to New Orleans, where my uncle found her. No, she had to come to Arizona to supervise me. Then Harold came along and they suited one another. Thank God.”

  “I know you’re taking this hard, Chet. But Reg’s decision to take his own life was his and his alone. None of us did anything but support him in every way. He had a working ranch, a loving wife, a beautiful baby girl, and another one on the way. We don’t know what pain and misery he’d had since the wreck, but it shouldn’t have driven him to what he did. So stop blaming yourself, like I know you are. Reg made his decision, and you would never have been able to stop him if he had his mind made up.”

  “I’ll try. Liz, I’m sorry I brought you into this.”

  “I came for you, darling. I didn’t expect it to be a walk in the rose garden. Life always has one more kick in the belly for us to show us how bad things can really be. You lost that boy, Heck. Back in Texas you lost a woman to a killer, you left a woman behind who bore you a son. Then Marge. Buck up, my cowboy,” she said with authority. “You and I are the survivors. From that bloody pool on the tile floor my husband died in to Reg in a casket today, they left us here for us to continue on. I’m proud to be here, and to help you through this bitter tragedy. I want to light some candles while we are in town.”

  “So it shall be.”

  She hugged his arm. “Later today, we will find a corner to hide in and make love. We need to get back on track.”

  “Thank you, sweetheart. You are a great part of my life. And we do need to renew our own good fortune.”

  “Remember when I told you I had a Christmas present for you and then never gave it to you? Well, I have a pocket watch.” She stopped. “It was his. My husband’s. But I think you should wear it. I know you tell sun time very well, but a man with a stage line to run needs a gold watch.”

  He chuckled darkly. “Hannagen may think I died, speaking of.”

  “Oh, no,” Liz said knowingly. “You’re his only hope for his stage line. All our lives hinge on you.”

  Her hand slipped into his own, and something heavy rested in his palm. He looked down at the shiny golden disc and the rich engraving around the casing. “Take it and tuck it in my vest,” he said. “One more thing to remember, I’ll need to keep it wound up.”

  She kissed his cold cheek and stuffed it in the vest side pocket under his open coat.

  He held his cheek to hers. “That was a sweet Christmas present. Thank you, darling.”

  “A sweet gift for the sweetest man.”

  They rode together in silence for a few minutes, just enjoying being together.

  Finally, she asked, “You think Drew can run the ranch up there?”

  Chet frowned. “He’s a serious young man, and with Lucy to guide him, I think it’ll be fine. Plus, now
he and Fern can get married.”

  “Matchmaker.” She laughed. He had to smile. Leave it to her to bring him out of the darkness. What else was he? Just a man pleased to have her seated beside him.

  In their discussion at the funeral home, they left the actual date open. They went by the church for her to pray and light candles, then they drove back to the ranch in the golden light of the late afternoon.

  Monica had supper already set up in the dining room. Cole and Valerie were there with Rocky. Jesus and Anita were in attendance, as were Lucy and her girl. Susie, Sarge, and their boy; Victor, Rhea, and Adam were also waiting. About the time they were ready to eat, Tom and Millie arrived, too.

  Chet looked around at all the solemn faces at the table. He saw sadness, despair, shock, confusion, anger. Reg’s suicide had left a hole in every one of them. How could Chet help them all in their grief? How could he make it better?

  “Let us bow our heads before we eat, and I will try to pray for all of us.” They joined hands and closed their eyes. Chet took a deep breath and prayed for the strength not to falter now. “Most Heavenly Father, on the day of your son’s birth, let us thank you. Lord, one of our family has gone to be with you. Hold him in the palm of your hand. He was a good young man with a very troubled mind. Help him find his way in your Kingdom. I am sure he will be healed and found well in the light of Your love.

  “Lord on this day, bless our food and be in all our hearts when we part and go down the trail of life. Thank you for the strength you share with all of us, for we are weak but thou art strong. In his name we pray. Amen.”

  “Amen,” they all agreed.

  “Thank you all for being here. Today, our family had to part with a loved one. A father, a nephew, a husband. A great man. But let us look forward, at the dawn of a new day. We must go on, for life is for the living, no matter how hard it is. We must take a step down a new road. This day will be over our shoulder and a brighter one will lighten the sky. Let us live our lives better, count our blessings, and be grateful for the good life we have as a family—”

  “Hampt and May are here,” Liz whispered from his side. “I’ll go greet them.” She got up, and heads turned. She waved them back down. “I’m coming back. Everyone eat.”

  Liz met the couple at the front door. Tears streamed down Hampt’s face and May looked ashen. Liz gathered them both into a hug.

  “Why?” Hampt sobbed.

  “It’s a question we’ve all asked ourselves a thousand times since it happened,” Liz told him. “He left no note.”

  “Is Lucy alright?” May asked.

  “She’s trying to be strong. She’d just learned they’ll be having another child next summer. Come in and join us for dinner, now, though. Everybody’s here.”

  May nodded, wiping her eyes.

  Hampt shook his head. “He’s the last one I’d expected to do that,” he said as they walked into the dining room.

  Chet agreed. “I thought the same thing.” He sighed. “Come eat. Monica carried plates in for you two. Life must go on.”

  “But this is such terrible news,” May said.

  “Nothing we could have done, though. It was his decision.”

  Hampt nodded, shrugging out of his heavy coat. Liz had taken May’s to hang up on the porch.

  Everyone settled. Chet had no appetite and picked at his food.

  Down the table, Tom cleared his throat. “Chet?”

  “Yes, Tom?”

  “I, um, I misunderstood something you told me last night. I went ahead and sent Bennie on up to the rim ranch to get a jump on taking over. I forgot to have him come talk to you first.”

  Chet waved a hand dismissively. “No problem. It’s been a rough day. I can talk to him anytime. That young man has his head on straight.”

  Lucy nodded. “Drew can handle things until I get back. He’s a good worker.”

  Tom said, “He sure is. I will miss him.”

  Chet nodded and thanked the Lord for his work. This had been the longest day of his life, but things were already coming back to some kind of normal.

  CHAPTER 23

  The funeral crowd overflowed the Methodist church, and many had to stand out in the cold sunshine at the end-of-the-week ceremony to show their respect. Reg was laid to rest in a gravesite near Marge’s. Afterward there was a meal ready for all back at the ranch.

  Tanner approached and asked him how the stage business was progressing.

  “Slow, with all this business,” Chet replied. “But Cole and I plan to attack it tomorrow at our house. We’ve solved one problem for them. We’ll handle the mail with buckboards until we get stations built. They had no idea what they were doing, I can tell you that.”

  “If they’re smart, they will listen to you.”

  “And if they don’t, they can have it for themselves.”

  Tanner agreed. “You still working the stage robbery?”

  “My Force down south is. I found a few leads for them to look at.”

  “I hope you get them.”

  “We will,” Chet assured him. “Takes time now.”

  He shook the banker’s hand and went on to talk to others.

  Frey, the liveryman, said he could sell the mules from the stage heist getaway for ninety dollars apiece if they wanted to sell them.

  “Try your buyer at a hundred and twenty,” Cole said, listening at Chet’s shoulder. “They’re good mules, and we have to pay for their feed.”

  “I’ll let you know.” Frey nodded his head at the answer. “Horse traders, you know.”

  “They all drive hard bargains.”

  “Coming and going,” Frey agreed. “I better find Gloria. We need to get back to town. Great meal. I didn’t know Reg myself, but folks from around here and up there talked highly about him.”

  “We’ll never know why,” Chet said sadly.

  “I feel sorry for his wife.”

  “Lucy’s a survivor,” Cole told him. “She’ll make it.”

  “That’s good. I better get going.”

  That evening in bed, Liz told him she spoke to Lucy at great lengths about her own experiences and why she must keep her eyes open. How she had refused to accept the gold diggers and at last woke up and found him.

  “I told her to leave her options open.”

  “I love you for it.”

  “Oh, you’re too easy to please.”

  He tickled her for that.

  Life went on. He and Cole went over the stage line details they needed to work out. The telegram from Hannagen mandated a mail run every three days to meet the contractual agreement. That was much better than a daily schedule. But they’d still need temporary stopovers for fresh horses and drivers. Their figures pointed to a minimum of at least fifteen buckboards and twice as many teams. A dozen drivers and the support teams would be needed to staff this system as a whole. The supply stops would need to be stocked with food and palatable water for the drivers on the road.

  The requirements grew larger and larger.

  “We have some time,” Chet said finally. “I think you and I need to divide up and go locate folks willing to meet these buckboards at appropriate places with food and water, fresh horses and fresh drivers at regular intervals. Maybe even a place for our drivers to sleep for a few hours. We’ll have traffic coming and going from east and west.”

  “We might also find us some ranches or farmers who can host and operate a stage stop later on,” Cole added.

  “They’re a little wide apart for these runs compared to what we’ll need for a stage line. But yes, we’ll do that. Folks see someone making a little money, it might be easier to sign them up.”

  “We sure picked a great time to find them,” the younger man agreed. “Bound to be lots of snow up there from here on.”

  “That won’t matter,” Chet said. “By June or July this service has to roll. No snow then.”

  “I guess no one else is going to do it but us, huh?”

  “Pretty much. You go west and I
’ll go east. We can use the big map for about where we need the services to be set up. If we can’t find anyone near that point, then we’ll need to scout out a place close by to put it.”

  “You taking Jesus?”

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  “Can I take Bennie and Ramon, then? It worked them riding with us the last time. Those two guys are sharp and no one will give the three of us any trouble.”

  “You sure can. We’ll talk to Raphael.”

  “Who else you taking?” Cole asked.

  “Maybe that orphan boy from the Verde Ranch, Spud. He hustles.”

  “He’ll bust his buttons to join you. Tom may complain, though. Drew was his best hand, and now you’re taking off with Spud.”

  “Yeah he might at that. But Drew and Fern have some plans. I am sure he’s grateful to be near her.”

  “Tom spoke highly about him to me. I know Lucy is a real rancher, but having another baby and all—”

  “Cole, I can tell you running that ranch is all she wants to do. I know she was cut off below the knees by his death, but she can run it forever for my money.”

  “Oh, I think she can run it just fine, and with good help, do it well. But not many men would let a woman do that. That’s loyalty right there, boss.”

  “You guys are my family,” Chet said. “Families stick together. She’s gutsy enough. And if she can’t, she’s honest enough to turn it back to me.”

  “That’s why you’re the boss.” The young man turned back to the map. “Let’s finish plotting out where we need these stops, though.”

  “When do you plan to leave on your part?”

  Cole stopped. “You mean—”

  Chet smiled. “You’re going to lead this deal, I’m making it your decision.”

  No hesitation. “Monday. New Year’s Day.”

  “Fine by me, partner. Line up your men. Now, the map.”

  They agreed they’d each locate four stations on each side from the base planned on their land at the base of the peaks. He nor Cole needed to worry about the first or last stations. That would be on Hannagen and the company.