The wounded outlaw gasped, “Clover . . . Springs. . . .”
“Where the hell is that?” Dirk asked him, but he’d died.
“That’s about four miles east of here on this main road,” the clerk said.
“Dirk, you and Deacon borrow a shovel and bury him. Then bring his two animals and catch up with us. Those other boys will be antsy and may head out if he’s not back. We have some twilight left. Rest of you, let’s ride east. Sorry for any damages.”
“I-I didn’t know him. I didn’t know he was an outlaw.”
“Not your fault. Mount up, men. Time’s short.”
They hurried to get in their saddles and left out fast. With the wind in his face, and leading the posse on what he hoped was the end of the chase for the two remaining killers, lots of things floated through Chet’s mind. Hooves thundering on the ground, they made lots of dust, but that couldn’t be helped. The slowly dimming daylight was a big factor in being able to see them.
One down, and two to go. Hayes Berkley was dead back there through his own fault, reaching for a gun in the face of the posse. Two more survived. They approached a camp of brush-framed, canvas-covered hogans, with many sheep and goats that scattered at their approach. On the run, he sent two men around to the left and two others to the south side. He and Spud rode into the camp, not seeing any horses except some painted Indian ponies.
He slid the big horse to a halt.
An Indian woman came out wrapped in a green blanket. “What do you need?” she demanded.
He removed his hat and nodded. “U.S. Marshal Byrnes. Sorry, we came here for two killers named Berkley.”
In the dimming light, she nodded. “They left an hour ago.”
“Any reason why? We thought they were waiting here for their brother.”
“They abused a girl. Some of us have guns, and we made them leave.”
“I don’t blame you. You’re lucky. Those men are killers.”
She straightened some more. “So are we.”
“I understand. We won’t bother you anymore. May we water our horses and camp on the far side? We won’t cause you any trouble.”
“Yes, you may.”
“Boys, she says we can water our horses and camp over there. Thank the lady and her family, then let’s get them watered.”
“Thanks,” the chorus went up, and they rode or led their animals to the large spring tank.
“Who is she?” Reg asked.
“The chief here, I guess,” Chet said, looking back. “I don’t know. But she made it plain that Navajos kill, too, didn’t she?”
“Bet they get lots of trash like them two coming through here on the run,” Cole added.
“Yeah, and I bet she knows Sarge from the cattle drives we make up here every month.”
“Reckon they circled back to see about their brother?” Reg asked.
“There’ll be tracks come daylight. They won’t get far.”
They finished watering their animals, then went and made camp with a supper of jerky and coffee that Spud fixed.
“Wasn’t for your coffee, I’d of thought I was a stepchild, Spud,” Bennie said.
“I agree we needed the coffee.” He laughed.
“I figured you’d take it good or I’d never’ve jabbed you.”
“I will miss the marshal. But I sure appreciate all of you treating me so good, even you, Bennie. I don’t rightly know what I’ll do, now that he’s gone.”
“Talk to Chet,” Reg said. “He can find you a place.”
Chet bent over and poured himself a second cup. “Yes. The Quarter Circle Z has a place for you.”
“Wow, thanks, sir. You’ve really made my day.”
“No problem. Our grave detail is coming in. Someone show them over here.”
At last, everyone was settled in camp for the night; Chet told them they’d find the killers’ tracks at first light and ride a ways until they found some wood or a food supplier, if the chase didn’t look pressing. According to the grave detail, the other two had not gone back to find out about their dead brother.
CHAPTER 20
“How far can they get without supplies?” Reg asked.
“No telling. Excuse me, someone is headed toward us from her camp.” Chet walked out to meet the figure coming from the Navajo camp.
“Marshal?” she asked when she was a few feet away.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Do you have a ranch and supply my people with beef?”
“Yes, we bring beef up here every month.”
“I thought that was the name I heard. But you don’t bring the beef, do you?”
“No, my sister’s husband, Sarge Polanski, brings them up here.”
“Then you are the man who gave Blue Bell a horse, too?”
Hat in his hand, the cooler night wind swept his whisker-stubbled face. “That was the trip when I brought my entire family to Arizona.”
“She is my cousin. I remember she called you her friend.”
“She needed a horse for her buggy and we had one.”
“My name is Bright Star, and I am glad to meet you at last.”
“It’s my pleasure.”
“I would have been more hospitable, but I was still upset by those men and what they did earlier.”
“No problem. We caught the youngest one at the store back west a few hours ago. He went for his gun and my men buried him. We’d hoped to find the other two here.”
She nodded, standing tall, wrapped in a blanket against the night. “Can I do anything?”
“No, we’re fine. We’ll ride on at first light and find those two.”
Her head inclined. “It was my pleasure to meet the man behind the name. Good night, sir.”
“Good night, and tell my friend hello.” He watched her walk away in the starlight.
What was her story? The second tall woman from her tribe he’d met. Obviously, they were cousins. They even shared many of the same facial features. No telling. He would never know their stories.
Walking back, he thought about another tall woman in his life, who was at home riding her jumpers and fussing over their son. She would be glad when she heard from him. He would be even more pleased to be back with her.
Come morning, they found the pair of tracks, and the posse went on, taking with them an empty saddled horse and a pack mule that brayed a lot. When they reached the next settlement, he’d have to replenish their own packhorse. One thing he’d observed—there were three bedrolls on the mule. That meant the other two outlaws had no bedding. And the nights grew colder as they advanced into fall.
In two days, they were in Gallup. He sent wires to Marge, Cole’s wife Valerie, Roamer at Tubac, and Marshal Blevins in Tucson, to tell them the outlaws rode east only a day before they’d arrived.
Reassembled at the livery, he asked if anyone needed to go back home. There were some powerful headshakes from his men.
“We come to get them three, and we only have two more left,” Bennie said. “They may not be any farther than the Divide up east of here.”
The rest of the men nodded in agreement.
“Alright. We’ll go on in the morning. I’m buying supper tonight. They say there’s a cantina down the street that serves great food. Let’s go celebrate for getting this far.”
The meal was good as promised, and they slept that night in the livery. At the crack of dawn, a vendor woman fed them and they rode on.
Their first day’s ride was uneventful and the second day they reached the Continental Divide that determined east from west water flow. The place consisted of a few adobe cantinas, a store building, and a Catholic church, with jacales on the hillsides that housed residents. When there were no Berkley-branded horses at the livery, they spread out looking for them.
Spud came riding back hard to point Chet at the north side. “They’re at the casa on the hill, in a corral.”
The men formed a line, and with rifles ready, they spread out, going around houses, wagons,
carts, and small garden fences. The sight of the line of armed men sent mothers to gathering scattered brown children into the safety of their houses.
A hatless man came out of the surrounded jacal, saw the line of armed men, and shouted back at the house, “Them bastards are coming, Tee.”
Another man, without a shirt and pulling up his galluses, looked out the door and ducked back inside. The line of riders with Chet kept coming.
“Three on the right, go around,” Chet ordered.
They spurred their horses up the steep hillside until Chet stopped the line to give time for the others to take a position. He cupped his hands to his mouth. “Come out hands high, or die.”
“Go to hell!”
His crew dismounted and took positions, rifles ready. A few shots came from the casa and then silence.
“We’re coming out! Unarmed!”
“Watch them. It may be a trick,” Chet shouted.
Both of them burst out the door with six-guns blazing. They didn’t get ten steps before the posse’s rifles cut them down. Then the wind blew away the gun smoke and both of them lay on the ground in the last throes of death. The last of the Berkley brothers were on their way to hell.
Good riddance, but they cost him time away from his family and the Force. Near two weeks had been stolen from his life. As he stood over the silent killers, he hoped all was well with his family.
“Reg, you and Bennie go find an undertaker.”
“Thank God,” Dirk said. “You and me don’t have to bury them, Deacon.”
“Yeah, thanks. I be right proud them’s gone, but I be also proud me and Dirk don’t have got to bury ’em.”
Everyone laughed. Chet told Spud to find them a place to eat. He added, “Maybe a bath and shave, too.”
“Yes, sir. Dirk, you can bring the pack animals.”
“Get out of one job and get another.” He went off laughing and grumbling.
The curious villagers had begun to come out cautiously to see about the gunfight. Chet spoke to them in his halting Spanish. “They were . . . killers of a marshal over in Arizona.”
One man asked, “You are a lawman?”
“Si, I’m a U.S. marshal. These men are my deputies.”
He nodded. “I wondered. You have come a long ways.”
They shook hands.
Spud returned. “The undertaker is coming. I talked to a lady who has a café. She can have us food ready shortly. There’s no bathhouse, and the barber is sick.”
“Guess we can eat her food dirty.”
“I’m sure. She’s excited for our business.”
“You did good, scout. Let’s go eat.”
The next morning they headed west. The trip took four days to reach Reg’s ranch. Lucie came out to welcome them back. Reg hugged her and swung her around. Bennie kissed Fern, and the rest left to put up their horses.
The ranch hands built a fire under some big iron kettles to heat water, and the women served them hot coffee. Two bathtubs were set up in the heated bunkhouse. Towels and soap made ready, they all bathed, besides eating some hot fresh donuts and washing them down with good coffee. Razors were sharpened. Lucie had some shears and offered to clip anyone who wanted it after bathing.
Chet offered them twenty dollars in script from the Marshal’s fund, or he’d pay them that amount out of his ranch account.
Dirk spoke up. “I hate to charge you for this, but if you can afford it, I’ll take your offer, ’cause I’d never get that script cashed up here.”
Others nodded.
“Lucie will pay you. I appreciate your help and caring. If we, Reg or I, can ever do anything for any of you, come and ask us. Spud, you can ride back with Cole and me.”
“Mr. Byrnes?” Bennie asked. “Do you have a place for me, too?”
“It’s a long way to come back and court someone.”
“She said she’d wait for me, if I found a job on one of your places.”
“We head back tomorrow. You’re welcome to join us, Bennie. What about the rest of you?”
“I got me a blacksmith business. I’m proud of it, and I’ll be going back to it.”
“Good, those people need you, and I know you only came because they shot your best friend.” He shook Deacon’s hard hand. “You ever think about making barbed wire?”
“No, sah.”
“Our blacksmith over on the Verde Ranch makes it. I can finance you making it and Reg will need a lot.”
“I can get over there and look at how they do it. They can make it, so can I.”
“See my foreman, Tom Flowers, at the Verde Ranch. I’ll tell him you’re coming.”
He turned to the other two. “You two got any plans?”
“Me and Connors are going to join Reg here. He says he can use us. We’re right proud to be a part of your outfit, too.”
“Yeah,” Connors said. “We was kind of second-class citizens. We’ll damn sure ride for the brand and for you and him.”
“Good, we better add on to the bunkhouse,” Chet said.
“You can send us two hundred more cows,” Lucie said.
“And more British bulls,” Reg added.
Feeling much better after his bath and shave, he nodded. “I get the message. We’re a large sprawling outfit, but I know we all work together.”
“Chet, when you came out here from Texas, did you ever expect it to become this big?”
“I had no idea. I bought a big ranch run by a crook who wouldn’t let me have it. But I never imagined we’d be setting on this large an operation.”
“We love you, for all you do. We just all want to be the biggest and the best ranch you own,” Lucie said, then hugged him and kissed his cheek.
“I understand.”
In a few days, he’d be home. He had two more hands to find work for. Spud and Bennie. Maybe they’d fit the Force for the present time. He’d decide in time.
“I’ll look at those cattle in another trip. Cole and me, plus those two, are going home tomorrow. We’ll be a few days getting there, but I have some other responsibilities, which include my wife and son. Cole’s wife will be glad to have him back, too. I truly appreciate everyone who has worked so hard on this task.
“Aside from my men in southern Arizona, you are the least complaining bunch of men I ever rode with. Thanks.”
They laughed, and Lucie announced supper was ready.
“You see now why he chose you all,” Cole said. “He hates town folks in a posse, ’cause they gripe all day long.”
“Amen,” Chet said.
They left at daybreak. The mule in the horse corral brayed until they were out of hearing. Privately, Chet had told Spud they didn’t need the animal and to leave him for Reg to use. Crossing the rim country, they laughed at not having him along to honk at them all day.
The second day, they reached Robert’s outfit. Things were going smooth and Robert introduced his headman, Fred Roach. The new man, Robert, and Chet talked some about the operation and things they needed. They especially needed harness repair, so they planned to send it to McCully in Preskitt. They also ordered new ones and gave him the collar sizes needed. Chet was impressed with Roach and decided Robert had made a good choice.
Their stopover in late afternoon at the Verde Ranch was a short talk with Tom and then they went on to the Preskitt Valley place, arriving there late at night. Marge and Monica were soon up and making food for them. Both Bennie and Spud were awed by the house. Cole kissed Marge on the cheek and then he rode on to his wife and their small house in town.
“Well,” Marge said when they sat down to the breakfast on the table. “You all made it to New Mexico and back unscathed.”
“None the worse for wear.”
“Your sister had a boy. They named him Erwin. He was somewhat premature, but doing well. She’s fine. I guess Tom had no time to tell you.”
“We were in a hurry to get up here.”
“I’m tickled pink about that.”
“So are we
, to be back.”
“Mostly, ma’am, ’cause we don’t have that braying pack mule anymore. We left him at Reg’s,” Spud said.
They all got a big laugh out of that.
Later, they all turned in. Home in his own bed at last, Chet felt totally at ease. With his wife in his arms, he had not one big problem going to sleep. Roamer had sent a telegram that all was quiet down around Tubac. JD sent one saying the second windmill was watering a small garden, and both house walls were going up. The lumberman had the material coming for the houses and they were all fine. More wells were being drilled, and they planned to install four more windmills. No artesian wells, so far.
He finally dropped off to sleep and didn’t wake up until midmorning.
“You let me sleep all day.”
“Oh, you needed it.” Marge opened the drapes and let the light in. “I have water heating. It’s hot now. Spud and Bennie rode off with Raphael to see the ranch. We’ll have a get-together tonight. I sent word to Bo Evans and for him to bring his lady friend, Shelly. Mr. Trent at the bank. Ben and Kathrin, Hampt and May, Tom and Millie, and Jenn and the girls—they’ll all be here. Monica is cooking a great roast, of course, and we should have a nice reunion.”
“You sound like you have it in hand.”
“Come, we have some Danish for you to eat. Then you can bathe. It’s all going fine, other than we have no requests for your services today, so far.”
Dressed, he kissed her hard. “How is my son?”
“Doing fine. Growing and kicking—outside me—thank the Lord.” She laughed and shook her head at him.
His arm over her shoulder, they went downstairs. “It’s just good to be back here with you.”
“Always, always. Tell me about those two you brought in.”
“Spud is an orphan. Apaches killed his parents. The marshal the Berkley brothers killed was his caretaker. He’s ages beyond his real age. He can ride with the Force. Bennie Crews is a ranch-raised young man who’s courting Lucie’s sister, Fern. He and Reg are good friends and he needed work. He’ll make a good man. I’m putting him on the Force, too.”
“He serious about Fern?”
“Serious enough he asked her about going to work for me.”
“That sounds serious. But he’ll be miles away from her.”
A Good Day To Kill Page 25
