“She will die in there.”
Chet grabbed him by the hair and jerked his face close to his. “You have two minutes to decide. After that, I’m turning a couple of guys loose on you that will make you cry.”
“Alright, alright. I can send my Segundo a letter.”
JD and Cole had joined them, and they dragged Montoya out of the smoky room. The whore and the woman who ran the place brought his clothes and then hurried away to the front. JD and Cole marched him into an office and watched him close as he dressed.
A bull-chested man with a hairy chest, he looked hard at the blank page Chet placed in front of him. They undid his right hand and held a cocked pistol to his head. Chet told him to write for his men to bring the rancher’s wife out in exchange for him. To bring her out, and with no strings attached. To have her on a sound horse that did not buck. Not to follow them and that he would be turned loose at the border. Any action to charge them and Montoya would die instantly.
“Tell them at ten o’clock tomorrow she is to ride out and one of our men will meet her. No tricks from there to the border,” Chet told him.
He took Ortega aside. “Can you read his message?”
“Oh, si.”
“He may write some instructions for them.”
“I know. I can read it.”
Finally Montoya said, “There it is.”
Ortega read each word. When he neared the end of the note, he translated the outlaw’s words out loud. “Don’t do anything foolish that will upset these gringos. I am sure they will kill me.”
“We damn sure will.” Chet nodded toward Ortega. “How do we deliver it?”
“I will take a white flag and take it to his under-man named Valdez.”
Chet considered the man’s offer. “I don’t want you shot.”
“Put him on a horse on the hill behind me under a rifle barrel. They won’t do anything but obey us.”
“Then tell them to bring her out on a good horse. We need to be ready to move right away,” Chet said. “Load the packhorses and meet us over there at dawn.”
JD spoke up. “Shawn, Cole, and I will get our things and meet you. Cole knows where it is.”
“Good, do that. We won’t get much sleep, but we need to be on the move.” Chet was anxious, knowing Montoya’s bunch might make quick plans to stop them. Lots of loose ends. Was the rancher’s wife tough enough to stand the ride? He had no idea.
“You know anything about her?” he asked Roamer who had spoken to her husband.
“Her name is Burnett Higgins, but you already know that. She’s twenty-eight. Much younger than her man. She’s his second wife. They described her as five-six, medium build, brown hair.”
“No picture?” Chet asked.
“Why?”
“What if they send us another woman?”
“Hell, Chet, I never thought of it.”
“I hope they don’t. Just thought of it.”
Roamer shook his head. “Now when she comes out, I am going to be jumpy. I hope it’s her.”
They rode out under the stars. They had Montoya on Shawn’s horse, and he rode back double with the others to get ready to leave when they got her. Chet had given JD money to buy a horse and saddle for Montoya when they came back. Ortega was sure the man would sell them a good mount. The two bound-up guards were made to ride double on a coach horse, so they couldn’t go warn the gang.
Chet told them to be careful and join them as quick as they could. When they neared the outlaw’s camp, they held back from being observed. The three prisoners seated on the ground were guarded and all in chains, and in leg irons that only let them take small steps, so they couldn’t get away.
The two Morales brothers went to sleep, while Roamer and Chet sat guard. The two soldiers slept, but Montoya grumbled the whole time and threatened them.
“How did you gringos get down here? You have no authority in Mexico.”
“We’re bounty hunters,” Chet said. “We have no badges.”
“Oh, shit, you are a big liar. Everyone in Mexico knows about your Force.”
“The only people who know about us are outlaws. The honest people appreciate us. Why kidnap her?”
“Her husband has money.”
Chet shook his head. “He’s a rancher. They don’t have money.”
“He found a fortune in gold dust.”
“Where?”
“There was a man coming back to Mexico with lots of gold dust. He got snake bit in the desert, on the border we think, and died. His burros wandered around. Her man found them and the gold. He kept it.”
“Could anyone prove it?”
Montoya shrugged. “We learned he was selling small amounts of gold he said that he panned.”
“He might have panned it.”
“No, he had the gold that belonged to that man who died from snake bite.”
“How did you find that out?”
“I have my ways.”
“How did you know?”
Montoya didn’t answer him.
It was getting close to dawn. When he saw Chet was still awake enough to watch them, Roamer fell asleep. When Chet shook him, he jerked awake.
“Wake up the others. It must be the rest of our outfit I hear coming.”
“You okay?” Roamer asked.
“Tired, but geared up to get her back.”
Roamer nodded, stood up, and stretched. “I guess we are approaching time to give them his note.”
“I have food for everyone,” Shawn said. He had a cloth sack full of burritos and handed them out to everyone, including the prisoners.
“Thanks,” Chet said. “Eat your food and then we’ll start on this exchange.”
“I am surprised they have not sent anyone out to look for him,” Ortega said between bites.
“Does he usually go home?”
“Yes, we have tracked him going home several nights, usually about midnight.”
“They may figure he’s a big boy now.”
The crew laughed at Chet’s comment.
Montoya pouted.
Ortega used a small pole for a flagpole with a white sheet tied to it. They put Montoya on his horse chained to the saddle and staked the horse so the bandits could see him. Ortega began his ride downhill holding the flag. The Force members crouched down with their rifles.
Chet noted a buzzard or two circling as if checking out their business there. Good or bad, they were there anyway. He heard someone shout and saw him run for help. Discovery one. That was what he called it. There were soon several bandits out in front of the barricades, pointing and scoping their man on the horse.
Ortega stopped his descent about where Chet felt was far enough. A man on a big dark horse galloped out to meet him.
“If he goes for a gun, shoot him,” he told his riflemen down the line.
They knew what to do. The next few minutes could be critical for Ortega’s life. But they knew he had their leader and his life was at stake, too. This thing would either blow up or work.
The man took the paper and whirled his horse around, knowing he was under many gun barrels and they could cut him down in an instant. After some time, while Montoya’s men probably passed the letter around, the same man returned.
Bronc heard what he said to his brother. “They are going after the woman. It will take time to saddle a horse and send her out.”
“Too smooth,” JD said, nodding in approval at their reaction.
Chet agreed. “We still have twenty-four hours of hard riding to make the border. They’ll follow us, and we can’t make one mistake. It could be the longest day of our life. Bar none.”
The men on the line agreed as Ortega returned.
“I don’t know who was the worst scared,” Ortega said, “him or me.”
“You did good. I’m going to nap a short time, while they get her. Wake me if anything happens.”
“We will.”
Chet was asleep for no time when they shook him.
“There is a woman on a horse coming up here.”
Chet scrambled up, found his hat, and stretched. She dismounted and he saw she fit the description. He walked out and asked, “Are you Burnett Higgins?”
He thought at first she’d faint. “Thank God. Did my husband send you?”
“Yes, ma’am. He asked for our help.”
She almost fell into his arms. “I’m sorry, but it has been a bad few weeks. I didn’t think anyone was coming to save me.”
He straightened her up. “We have Montoya as an insurance policy to the border. But it will be a hard twenty-four-hour ride. Can you make it?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m going to cry. Hold me, please, until my heart stops fluttering.”
He could feel her trembling in his arms. The hot sun on his back, he fetched out a handkerchief for her to use. She thanked him and moved back. A lovely woman who’d no doubt waded through hell for a while.
“Are you strong enough to make this ride?”
“Oh, yes.” She looked around for the first time, discovering his team. “God bless you all. I could ride to Hades and back with you and these men.”
“I’ll introduce you to everyone. That’s JD Byrnes, my nephew, and that’s Cole Emerson. No matter what happens, they’ll get you out of harm’s way. Listen to them. Obey them. They are your guards. The rest of us will be ready to fight.”
Roamer brought Montoya over, mounted on his horse and his hands chained to the saddle fork.
“Mount up, men. Our flight to the border starts now.”
“Hmm,” Montoya snorted out his nose. “They’ll cut you down before you get there.”
“You won’t be there to talk about it before that happens,” Chet said. “You better hope they don’t try us. You’ll damn sure die if they do.”
They started off for the border. Ortega led the way and Chet rode in the rear. If Montoya’s gang pursued them, he’d watch for them with his telescope. Roamer was in charge of Montoya. The rest were bringing the packhorses and ready to fight if they had to. The distance was what worried Chet the most, with him pushing his good roan horse.
JD and Cole rode on each side of Mrs. Higgins, so she was in good hands. Those two would keep her protected. By midday, they were crossing over some small desert mountains. At the top of the pass, he dismounted and used his telescope, thinking he might see dust behind them. No sign of pursuit. That didn’t mean they weren’t back there. It only meant he saw no sign yet of Montoya’s army. He mounted up and rode on.
When someone questioned him, he answered, “Nothing back there.”
No need to get too confident. It would be good if they could find a safe place, grab some sleep, and rest their horses. A nonstop trip might ruin their mounts. But where that place could be in this spiny land he had no idea. This part of Mexico was almost all new to him. Much of the desert they crossed through had lots of large cactus that didn’t resemble anything in Arizona. The cattle he saw grazing were small, in-bred looking longhorns.
Late that evening, Ortega recalled a man named Don Seville he knew who had a large hacienda. It was a short ways off the road and maybe they could sleep a few hours and rest and feed the horses there.
It was close to sundown when the patron came out to see the troop that had arrived in his yard. He smiled at Ortega. “Who is here with you?”
“I want you to meet my amigo, Señor Byrnes, patron.”
Chet had dismounted and taken off his hat. He gave his reins to Shawn and reached out to shake Señor Don Seville’s hand.
“Nice to meet you, señor. We’re citizens that have recovered Señora Higgins from a Mexican outlaw, Renaldo Montoya. He’s our prisoner and we plan to perhaps release him at the border and go on home.
“We stay outside Tubac at Ortega’s ranch. But before you agree to put us up, you need to know that Montoya has an army that might try to rescue him. So, to let us stay could endanger your ranch and people.”
“Your name is Byrnes, right? You have a ranch or two up on the Verde in Arizona?”
“I do, señor.”
“You are the man who oversees the Border Force.”
“Jose!” Seville waved to a nearby vaquero. “Put their prisoner in our jail and guard him with your life. He has an army that may come here to get him.”
“Patron, his men won’t come here. They know the numbers we have here.”
Seville nodded.
Roamer handed Jose the keys.
Chet introduced Burnett to their host. She looked real tired, but she smiled and thanked him.
“Go with this girl. She will get you a bath and some clothes to wear. Then we will have food and a bed for you to sleep in.”
“Oh, that sounds wonderful. Thank you so much.” A girl rushed her off through the front door.
“My men will put up your horses and care for them. I have a shower room and there will be robes for you to wear. There will be food in an hour. I will see you then. Your clothes will be clean and ironed by morning. Roman, show them where to go. And, Señor Byrnes, maybe if you are not too tired, we can talk about ranching in the desert.”
“I’d love to. Thank you, sir. I hope we bring you no problems.”
He shook his head. “I simply cannot believe you captured Montoya. Why, the Federales have ran all over looking for him.”
Chet nodded. “They didn’t look under the right rock.”
Seville laughed. “Maybe they weren’t looking at all.”
The meal in the house was at a giant table in a two-story-tall room. Giant drapes hung on the walls. A full-size portrait of a distinguished, lovely lady hung on the wall.
“That your wife?” Chet asked.
His host looked a little taken back. “Si. She died two years ago. I have been heartbroken ever since.”
“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t prying. She must have been a lovely woman. I know it’s sad for you. I lost a woman in Texas I intended to marry, but she was murdered.”
“Cecilia was killed in a stagecoach crash.”
“I know how that must hurt.”
“You are married now?”
“For over a year, and we just had a son, Adam, born before I came down here.”
“How lucky you are.”
“I am indeed. I want to repay you for your generosity to us.” Chet shook his head to dismiss the man’s protest. “If you would like, and have two great open mares you treasure, have a couple of your men bring them to my ranch on the Verde River. I will have them bred to my Barbarossa stallion.”
Sounding shocked, he asked, “You have one of those stallions?”
“Yes, he gets great colts, and as far as I know, he’s the only one outside their ranch in Mexico.”
“He has to be. They control those horses very close and they don’t need money.”
“Well, I own him and you’re welcome to bring the mares. I’d take them now, but with all this business we’re involved in, we might lose them.”
“Oh, my God. What a generous offer. Of course, we will do that. I am very impressed. That is just wonderful.”
“No big deal, but you have been so generous to take us in and all.”
“No problem. I am enjoying the company. I heard of a man who had two of your horses. He is very rich.”
“I traded him those colts for a young woman whose mother had helped me when I first came to Arizona. Her daughter had been taken into the white slave trade and I didn’t have a big enough force then to get her out. She came out very well.”
“Well, in time, I will have two colts as well. This is terrific news.”
“Yes. Are there artesian wells that water all this crop and orchard land?”
“Yes, but like God gives things away, he also takes them back. Anytime, an earthquake could close them off and this land would be worthless.”
“Very sobering thought. I’m looking at a large ranch south of Tucson.”
“That is the story of the desert. One shift and it turns the faucet off.”
&nbs
p; “I’ll remember that. I’m almost too sleepy to talk much more, excuse me?”
“Oh, of course. Antoinette, show him to his room.”
“Si, patron.” The lovely girl in the low-cut dress curtsied and held her hand out to show him the way. “This way, Señor Byrnes.”
“Chet.”
“Oh, no,” she said. “You are the señor.” She led him to a great bedroom and opened the thick door with her shoulder.
“You must know that my patron sent me here to serve you in any way.” She bowed.
In the candlelight, he smiled. If he was that sort of man, she would be a wonderful prize to have in his bed, but he wasn’t even tempted. “Thank you, ma’am, but I have a wife at home every bit as lovely as you, and I don’t stray.”
She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. “I imagine she loves you, too. But if you need me for anything, pull that rope beside the bed a few times and I will come join you.”
“Thanks.” He showed her out and bolted the door. In minutes, he was in the great bed and sound asleep.
His dreams were not particularly comforting. He was in a cave, wrestling with a half-bear man and losing the fight part of the time. Awake, he sat up straight in bed and mopped his face in his hands. He wasn’t in a damn cave, nor was there a bear in his room. Whew. He had trouble sleeping, but he managed some light sleeping and then dressed and went into the big room. There was a light on and his host was writing with a straight pen and ink in a great ledger at the end of the table.
A lovely young lady intercepted him. “Sir, would you like some fresh coffee? You may join the Don. He is writing in his journal, but he will be ready to converse with you in a few minutes. Have a seat.” Her English was perfect.
With reading glasses on his nose, Seville looked up and smiled. “I want to finish this section, excuse me.”
“Certainly.”
She returned with his coffee. Then, in a whisper, she offered him breakfast.
“Whatever he’s having,” Chet whispered back.
After Seville’s writing was complete, he set down the pen, blotted the page, and closed the book. “I try to write my adventures down when they happen. They would be of little value to anyone but myself. But I still feel it is important to have them to look back on.”
A Good Day To Kill Page 9
