Cole spoke up as they waited. “If I end up living at the base of those peaks on the Marcy Road, I might ask Raphael if I can have those two men ride with me securing the buckboard stops. Bennie and Ramon. They’re smart and can handle things if aroused. They could substitute-drive if needed, recover stolen horses, fix harnesses, and manage things if I was gone.”
“No reason not to use them. Would the married one move?”
“They told me if they had a chance at it, they’d both move up there. Ramon said he’d marry Lupe and she’d go up there with him, too.”
“Let’s make it happen, then. You’ll need some good backup, and I agree those two are quite versatile.”
When they reached Hayden’s Ferry, the northbound Black Canyon Coach was about ready to leave. After using the facilities and grabbing a bite to eat from a street vendor, they climbed aboard. They’d be home by midnight—or at least at Preskitt by then. Chet looked forward to the big house and regular meals from Monica.
“I want to tell you both something,” Cole said, breaking the silence for the first time in an hour. “I want to thank you—both of you—for letting Valerie and I raise Rock. She really needed that boy. We enjoy him so much.”
“I know how bad she wanted one,” Liz said. “He’s in good hands, just like Adam. And this way, Chet’s spoiled wife gets to go with him on his adventures.”
“No more spoiled than I am,” Chet said.
Cole went on, “I know my traveling days are about to end with you two. It makes me sad. Jesus is like a brother to me. You two are like—well, almost like my folks. And while I enjoy every minute at home with Valerie, I still love running down criminals and settling things with you.”
“You’ll have a plate full up there, I imagine.”
“And I won’t have you to figure them out, either,” the young man said.
“I have no fears. You can take those reins.”
“Went by and saw Lucy when I was up there. I told you it was okay. Despite all her losses, it looks like she and Drew are doing a great job working together. There’s a big gap without Reg and I know he won’t ever be back, but she still misses him a lot.”
“We all do. I don’t know what I’d changed otherwise. He was like a son to me. Something slipped, maybe, and I didn’t foresee the depth of his internal problems. We’ll miss him for a long time.”
The two buckboards were there waiting under the stars for them. Cole shook his hand and hugged Liz good-bye. “Day after tomorrow I’ll be at the ranch. You go somewhere, boss, you take at least one of my future men along with you.”
Chet chuckled. “I promise to do that.”
“Good enough. See you then. And thanks for everything.”
Their things loaded, Chet helped Liz into the second seat. Looking at the outline of the hills around them against the brighter sky—it was good to be home.
He’d even be happier in his own bed with her to hug. He thanked God for all his blessings.
CHAPTER 29
At dawn, he found Monica in the kitchen. She shook her head at the sight of him. “I see you are back in one piece. I take it that your lovely wife is unharmed as well?”
He smiled at her sassy ways. “She’s fine. I let her sleep in. Everything alright here?”
“I know of no great problems that will draw you away. I have your mail laid out from when you were gone. Not a soul has been by to ask for your help, which I consider as very unusual. I guess Cole came back, too?”
“Yes, he joined us. Spud and Jesus are bringing the horses back from the border.”
“Then everything is alright?”
He nodded. “The criminals are in jail in Tucson. We recovered most of the loot.”
She poured him some fresh-smelling coffee. “The many times you have left here and I wondered how you can do this impossible thing—and you always do it.”
“Someone has to do those things if we ever intend to become a state.”
She shook her head. “Maybe someday you will be elected governor.”
“I don’t want the job.”
“I thought you’d say that.” She backed up to the sink as if considering something. “You would make a damn good one, though.”
He shook his head. “I have enough ranches to look after, not the entire territory.”
“Oh, we will see.”
He spent the day going over his books with Liz. He read a letter from Bonnie about how hard JD took his brother’s death, and how sorry he was about being unable to help bury him because he was so far away. Chet took the time to answer it and apologized for the time elapsed since they were busy after the stage robbers.
“The water is hot for you. I laid some fresh clothes out, too,” his wife said.
“You must not like my beard.”
“Oh, you won’t ever be a Mormon elder. Better shave it off. I can do that, if you like.”
Chet shook his head. “No, I can handle it. I know you have letters to write, as well. I answered Bonnie’s so far. JD took the loss hard. Our accounts look good, but we’ll need money for our development at the peaks. Someday, that will be the rail headquarters for northern Arizona.”
She kissed him and he went off to bathe and shave. After he finished, he came downstairs and heard Liz talking with Raphael.
“There he is now.”
“Stay seated. I’m coming.”
“It’s good you and her are back and safe,” his foreman gushed. “Everything at the ranch is fine. She tells me you finally got them in Mexico and brought them back. I wondered if you needed anything from me.”
“Cole would like for Ramon and Bennie to be his employees on the buckboard business.”
“Where will they live?”
“Eventually, up at the junction of the Marcy Road and where the military road comes down from the mountains. We have to build the headquarters there.”
“If he needs them, I am sure they will want to go. They have had a big time going with you and Cole both. They are good men. I hate to lose them, but there are more good vaqueros that I can find.”
“Thanks. They’ll get a raise and a nice house for Bennie and his family. And when Ramon is ready, a nice house for him, too. Lots of work.”
Raphael nodded. “I have no problems. If you see something I need to do, please tell me.”
“I am proud of your job and what you do for us. Why, we’d all freeze if we didn’t have your wood delivery services.”
His man smiled. “I will leave you two. It is an honor to be the foreman here.”
“We are honored you are in charge.”
“Yes,” Liz said. “Very proud.”
After Raphael left, she asked him, “Is he worried about losing his job?”
“I don’t think so, but two gringos used to be over him. When they were killed I finally put him in charge and never regretted it. He has limited education and I think he feels like he has to compete with Tom, Hampt, and JD. I don’t worry about that, though. His men are good workers and they run a smooth outfit.”
“What did Hannagen have to say in his letter?”
“He wants my plans for stations and how long it will take to get them up and in operation. He sounds impressed with what Cole and I did. So we’re plunging right ahead.”
“What comes first?”
“Get a few teams to cut rails and build corrals. Some water development.”
“Sounds peaceful enough.”
“I hope so. But we’ll have problems and need to be prepared.”
She laughed. “I need to go to town tomorrow. I know you and Cole plan to work on the buckboard business.”
“I can get you a driver.”
“That would be fine.”
“I’ll handle it after lunch.”
“Good. What can I do today?”
“Check that list of cattle sales at Gallup and how we were paid when the money became available. I want to make sure we didn’t miss any payments.”
“I can do that.” The
y spent the day tracing bills and income.
His eyes were tired by evening when they quit bookkeeping. Things were going smoothly enough until a man arrived and came to the back door.
Monica called for Chet to talk to the visitor.
The man in his thirties introduced himself as Harold Faulk and said he lived near the Marcy Road. He came to see if Chet needed help building corrals.
“You rode all this way down here to ask for work?”
“Yes. Jobs up there are like sand. There is lots of that, but not many paying jobs. I have some boys and neighbors need jobs to feed their family. We aren’t afraid of work. Can we help you?”
“Why don’t you wash up and come in and eat with us. Monica always has plenty of food. We can discuss our needs over dinner.”
“I know you are a busy man; I didn’t come to complicate your time.”
Chet shook his head. “Not a problem. I do need some construction crews.”
“If I am no problem?”
“No problem. I will stick my head outside and have them put up your horse. You can stay the night.”
“Sounds like too much.”
“No problem at all.”
Chet directed the boy to put the man’s horse up for the night. Harold acted a little overpowered at Monica’s kitchen table.
“How many men could you muster?” Chet asked him.
He finally smiled and chuckled. “I haven’t heard that word since I was discharged. Big boys and men that will work? Say twelve.”
“I’m on a busy schedule. Would they work six days a week?”
“How much would you pay them?”
“Two dollars a long day they work.”
“I could get men that would give their all for that kind of pay.”
“Would you have a woman or man who would clean and cook for them for that?”
Harold nodded. “My wife and daughter for that much.”
“I will have teams and wagons, saws, axes, and digging tools. Tents to live in on the site, cooking equipment, a chuckwagon for the cook.”
“When can we start?”
“When the snow lets up and you can fall the lodge poles for corral construction. There’ll be teams and wagons to haul them to my stops. Cut enough and haul them, then switch to building the pens. You know men that have wagons to haul them for me?”
“Surely. What can you pay?”
“Five dollars a day when they haul only and they feed themselves, or pay us for meals.”
“How many?”
“I’ll let you order them when you get the poles cut.”
“I can do that. If I find pines we can cut, can I start?”
“Absolutely. You will need to see Tom Flowers at my Verde Ranch for the chuckwagon. He should have all the things you need—shovels, axes, saws, everything.”
“How will you pay it?”
“You or someone must keep a log of who works and what we must pay him.”
“My daughter could do that. Will you have a form?”
“We can make a notebook,” Liz said. “Or buy one for her. Can she come here? I can teach her how to do it.”
“I think that would be best. She is smart.”
The next morning, Harold breakfasted with them, thanked them, and prepared to leave. Chet paid him thirty dollars for his expenses and told him he wanted his crew to start by the first of March. Monica sent food along for him to eat on his way home.
When he left, Chet shook his head. “I hope that man’s plan pans out. Or every one of my cowboys will be building corrals up there.”
Liz laughed and shook her head. “I hope that doesn’t come to be.”
“We’ll see.”
That night he went to sleep wondering how his buckboard runs would ever make the trip. Things had to thaw out for him.
CHAPTER 30
During a break in the weather, Chet, Jesus, and Cole decided to check on one of their proposed stops west of the junction. One of the men who Cole had signed up, Dwight McCrown, had not answered a letter Cole sent him regarding his progress.
Snow depth at the Junction was still too deep for them to do anything about the headquarters Chet had planned. They rode west and camped that evening at a road ranch/store/saloon. A very busy stopover for freighters and travelers on the road, Cole checked and they had elk roast on the menu for the evening meal. He put reservations in for three meals and the girl wrote it down. Satisfied, they set up camp, put up a picket line, fed the horses, and walked back to eat their evening meal.
There were several freighter rigs parked there and numerous shaggy-saddled horses at the racks. When they entered the smoke-filled, sour-smelling interior, a bar girl waved Cole over to a side table. She took their order for two beers and one root beer.
“Turn in your food order now or later?”
“We already turned the orders in.”
“Okay then, it’ll be coming out shortly,” she said, smiling. “We’re pretty busy for a weeknight. You guys live around here?”
“Preskitt,” Cole offered.
“Nice to have you up here.” She was gone in a wiggle.
A bearded man on a stool was playing a banjo on the stage. Chet noted the gamblers were unusually loud in the poker game across the room. Most card gambling was quieter than this. One loud guy especially was jumping up and down when he won a hand. “Is he drunk?” Cole asked.
“Or crazy,” Chet said. “That game over there’s about to explode. Be aware if it threatens to break out into a fight or shoot-out.”
The girl brought them each a big, thick elk steak, baked potatoes, and green beans on a platter.
“Need anything else?”
“Do you have some bread and butter?” Chet asked.
“Sure.”
“I’d like some butter for my potato, too.”
“Sure. The bread’s coming. We’re kinda busy right now.”
A shot erupted, and everyone hit the deck. Marked confusion filled the gun smoke–filled room. Cole took the barmaid down to the floor. Chet had his gun out, on his knees behind the table. It had gotten noticeably darker in the room. The percussion of the first shot put out many of the candle lamps on the wagon wheels hung overhead.
Two more shots rang out across the room, and the screams and protesting grew louder. Chet spotted the hatless gunman parting the crowd and moving toward the door, threatening everyone in his path. But there were too many people in the room for him to try to take a shot.
Where was Jesus?
Chet stayed low, looking around.
“Where’s Jesus?” he hissed.
His man could only shake his head.
The gunman backed to the door. About the time he opened it, he shot his pistol in the floor and fell forward. A few women screamed.
“Don’t anyone shoot,” a familiar voice shouted. “He’s out cold.”
The crowd gave a sigh of relief. A hatless Jesus, gun in hand, came through the door. He kicked the gun away from the prone man’s hand, skidding it across the floor. “Any more shooters?”
Some guy hollered, “Hell, no. You got him.”
Several men rushed over to meet him.
“What’s your name, mister?”
“Where did you come from?”
“My name is Jesus Martinez. I’m a deputy U.S. marshal. Watch him. I need some rope to tie him up.”
“I got some,” the bartender said. “What do you drink, mister?”
“Probably another beer.”
Everyone wanted to thank him. He holstered his six-gun and smiled. “I’m alright. Excuse me, but my damn supper is getting cold.”
His words drew some laughter. The girl who’d served them was brushing sawdust off her front and thanking Cole for protecting her.
“Isn’t he part of you all?” she asked about Jesus.
“He damn sure is,” Chet said as his man returned to their table.
“Your plate got broken,” she said to Jesus. “But I’m getting you a fresh one. How
did you do that?”
Jesus shook his head like it was nothing. “I sure will appreciate some more food.”
“Well, don’t you worry one bit about that.” Then she turned to Cole. “And thanks for taking me down. I was about frozen when that shot went off.”
“Marshal Martinez, what should we do with him? He’s tied up.”
“Lock him in a shed to sober up if he didn’t kill anyone,” Chet said to save his man, who was taken aback by his title being said out loud.
“Hang the sumbitch!” went up the cry.
“No hanging tonight. Let him set there. How bad is the man he shot?”
“He never shot anyone,” the bartender said. “Just shot a hole or two in the ceiling. It will live. May leak a bit, but he never killed anyone.” Everyone laughed.
“Where’s the local JP?” Chet asked.
“Over the hill.”
“Send for him, and he can hold court right here.”
The crowd agreed, though they sounded reluctant. The help was busy letting down wagon wheels and relighting the lamps.
The barmaid called Jill was back with bread, butter, and a new heaping plate for Jesus. She asked him, “That enough?”
He shook his head. “Probably more than I can eat.”
She kissed him on the cheek. “You guys were the greatest. What do you do?”
“We ranch, do some law work, and we’re going to build a stage line from Gallup to California.”
“Well I am sure glad you three were in here tonight.”
“Thanks for my meal,” Jesus said, and started back to eating.
The head bartender came over. “Your meals are on us. We stuck the troublemaker in the back room till the judge gets here. You need anything you holler—I never realized we had U.S. Marshals in here. Glad to have you and stop by any time. Did I hear someone say you’re building a stage line across Arizona?”
“That’s right,” Chet confirmed. “That young man is Cole Emerson. He’ll be the superintendent of operations.”
“I’m sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Harry Jensen. You are?”
Pray for the Dead Page 28
