Texas Blood Feud

by Dusty Richards

  “Well, I heard about them beating you up in Casey’s.” He narrowed his blue eyes, taking a seat in the chair opposite Chet. “I can’t figure that bunch out. But I came over to tell you about my situation. Earl’s brother and some tough gunny came by my place and told me I better not ship any cattle up north with you if I knew what was good for me. That made me mad, you know?”

  “Would me, too. When did they do that?”

  “Yesterday. They got me mad, you know? I grabbed my old shotgun by the door and told them to haul out or I’d perforate them with it.”

  “What happened then?”

  “Shelby said I’d live to regret that, too—” Hodges shook his head and gritted his teeth. “Boy, oh, boy, I had a hard time not giving them both barrels. Ain’t no one telling me what I can and can’t do, you know?”

  “I understand, Warren.”

  “I was a Ranger, you know?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “I ain’t taking that crap. I need to sell cattle as bad as anyone, and they damn sure ain’t telling me who I can send them with.” His hands were close to shaking in his lap.

  “Warren, we’ll be glad to take your cattle to Kansas. Dale Allen’s going to be the trail boss. He’ll do a good job. Because of the problem, I need to stay here. I’m sorry I can’t stop those galoots from threatening you. I’m trying to cool the whole thing down.”

  “I savvy all that. There’s three of their boys rotting in jail now. You’d think they’d’ve learned, wouldn’t you? You know, you just may have to kill the whole damn tribe of ’em to ever settle this.”

  “I hope not.” Chet shook his head in disapproval

  “Well, you can count on a hundred head from me.”

  Chet made it though the day—fidgeting. In the morning, he’d have them saddle him a horse. Perhaps in the open air, he could look at things different and maybe get his mind straightened out. No telling—he sure missed Kathren.

  After breakfast the next day, he rode up and looked over the remuda. The horses were wintering well, and checking the small bunches here and there, he saw no problems. Past mid-morning, a rider came on the fly, and he sent the bay horse called Shoat in that direction. Obviously, they wanted him back.

  Reg slid his pony to a halt. “They shot and killed Warren Hodges this morning in Mayfield.”

  “Who shot him?” Was it over shipping cattle?

  “Shelby and that Sharp fella. Warren shot Sharp. He ain’t going to do nothing but push up bluebonnets. But Shelby got away.”

  “What else?”

  “Dale Allen’s gone into Mayfield to see what he could do for Warren’s widow, Clara.”

  “Good.” That would be a first. His brother was finally growing up. “We better head in and see what we can do.”

  “They said those two stormed out in the street and challenged Hodges when he rode in. There was lots of cussing went on and then the shooting began. Hodges shot Sharp twice in the chest and may have wounded Shelby.”

  “But he got away?”

  “They said he did.”

  Maybe Hodges gut-shot him. Chet hoped so.

  Chapter 27

  His aches grew fainter. No more cow losses. J.D. took Susie in the buckboard to San Antonio for a few days on a holiday shopping spree. The boys were sorting the big steers out of the main herd and bunching them east of Yellow Hammer Creek.

  Why were the days passing so slowly for him? Hodges’s funeral proved to be a sad affair. Several of the older ex-Rangers came from all over for it. The name of Shelby Reynolds drew much of their ire. A reward of a hundred dollars for his arrest was put up afterward in Casey’s Saloon. Dead or alive.

  Chet promised Clara that when the time came to ship the cattle Warren had wanted to sell, he’d send a crew over to get them. The woman thanked him, looking red-eyed and very lost. She had no children. A niece was staying at the ranch to help her. Poor bucktoothed girl acted backward as a doe deer, but she took good care of Clara at the services. At least the widow had someone.

  He wondered what Kathren was doing. She’d not come to the funeral. Probably never knew Warren, or didn’t get the word. The real problem might be that others would cancel out on him about sending their cattle north because of all the talk that was what the shooting was about.

  Sheriff Trent came by the ranch, and discovered Susie was gone to San Antonio. Chet decided that Bob looked let down by her absence, and invited him to stay for supper.

  “I guess I better get back. I’d found there was a two-hundred-fifty dollar reward on that Sharp. I sent for it for Clara Hodges.”

  “Will they pay it?” Rewards were sometimes hard to collect.

  “I’ll get her the money.”

  “That’s good. I’ll tell Susie you were by. I know if she was here, she’d’ve been pleased you came by.”

  “Thanks,” he said, looking a little uncomfortable at Chet’s words. “I’m going to send a deputy down to Mayfield and station him there. He can’t stop all this business, but it might help.”

  Chet agreed, and walked him out to his horse.

  Trent gathered the reins, and then took hold of the saddle horn to mount his bay gelding. “I hope you don’t mind me seeing her.”

  “Not at all.”

  “You know I’m older than she is.”

  “That’s her decision.”

  “Good. I wanted to level with you.”

  “No problem. Come back any time, you’re always welcome here.”

  Trent nodded and rode off.

  He was serious about her. Chet watched him short-lope across the open country east of the house. What would Chet do without her? Lord only knows.

  Dale Allen thought they’d have 550 three-year-old steers on the ranch to drive to Kansas. Chet’s tally book showed a higher number if they hadn’t strayed or died since he’d tallied them in. A five-percent loss wouldn’t be unusual. Ten percent would be too high, but an actual count would be the real test. They’d know in February when they road-branded them.

  Christmas Eve came and the ranch family gathered—all the Byrnes relatives and the crew including Sammy, Pinky, Matt, and the girls Astria and Maria. They sang some carols and Susie handed out the gifts. Rock and Theresa had already gone to bed, but Susie would have presents for them in the morning.

  There were pullover shirts for all the men. Made of blue denim, they represented the handiwork of the ranch women. The crew looked shocked. They weren’t ready either for their own pairs of red woolen long handles, which drew some red faces but plenty of appreciation. May was promised a new long woolen coat and two new dresses when Dale Allen got back from the drive in the fall and could take her to San Antonio. Then wool socks for the men, jackknives for the three younger boys, and chaps. There were hunting knives for the older two. Some new bull-hide chaps and a Boss of the Plains gray Stetson hat for the trail boss, Dale Allen. A new pair of boots specially made to fit Chet by a man named Justin in Fort Worth.

  New skirts and blouses for Astria and Maria. Their brown eyes about popped out when they opened the packages wrapped in plain brown paper and string. There were things for the baby, and a new windup alarm clock for the cook Matt. A gold pocket watch would not have made him happier. Oranges and hard candy. Susie opened her own present last. A blue Sunday dress made by a dressmaker in San Antonio. She held it up and whirled around.

  Chet could see her dancing in it. He stood up and applauded her. The rest joined in.

  “Don’t ever send me up there again with her, Chet,” J.D said, shaking his head.

  “Why’s that?”

  “Man, I had more secrets to keep than I could think about since we got back.”

  “You did good, J.D,” she said.

  “Thanks a lot. I can’t recall any time in my life when I ever had a nicer Christmas,” Pinky said, awed by all the things that were his. Wetting his sun-scarred lips and shaking his head, he looked close to tears.

  The girls served hot cocoa and fruitcake. The evening came
to a close and the celebrants went to the bunkhouse or their quarters.

  Reg planned to ride over to Molly’s folks’ place for dinner the next day. Chet told him to be careful and not take the main way. The boy agreed and left the house.

  Left alone at last, he and Susie sat in the living room and watched the logs in the fireplace blaze away. A knot or two exploded and the small burst fell down in the flames to be consumed.

  “I have something for you,” Susie said, and reached in her dress pocket and came out with a small box.

  He frowned. “What is it?”

  “Something you may need.”

  “I wanted to say buying them hands that underwear and socks about made them all cry.”

  “I’d seen their wash hanging out down there.” She snickered. “They sure needed some. Go ahead, open it.”

  He agreed and pried the box apart, removing the lid. A small gold band ring rested in some cotton. “Who’s is this?”

  “It was Grandma Charlotte’s.”

  “Reckon she’d approve of me giving it to Kathren?”

  “I wouldn’t know why not.”

  “I wished I’d’ve got her something—” It was too late for that—no way he’d find anything in time to go over there.

  “You got her something.”

  He blinked in disbelief at his sister. “I did?”

  “I’m pretty good on sizes and I had a divided canvas riding skirt, a fuffy blouse, and a waist jacket made for her in San Antonio.”

  He collapsed in the chair. “How will I ever repay you?”

  “Just be yourself. We all count on you. This Reynolds business will surely go away.”

  “Can I be honest with you?”

  “Sure.”

  He dropped his chin in defeat and shook his head. “I think in time we’ll have to sell out and move to solve it.”

  “But our family built this ranch here—”

  “Susie, if I could end it, I would tonight. But I’m afraid there ain’t no end to it.”

  He rose and hugged her. “What did you get Bob?”

  “I didn’t want to get him too much, so I found a white shirt in San Antonio that will fit him. Sheriffs always need white shirts, I figure.”

  “I don’t have to tell you he’s got some age on you.”

  “I’m not afraid. And I’m not worried about being an old maid if he doesn’t ask me. But he’s the first man who ever stirred something inside me—you know what I mean?”

  “I know what you mean.” He held up the ring between his thumb and index finger to admire it. “If I wasn’t such a coward, I’d ask her tomorrow.”

  “I can’t do it for you.”

  He closed his eyes and laid his cheek on top of her head. “How well I know.”

  Chapter 28

  Early morning, he left with his gifts for Kathren tied on the horn and the ring box in a vest pocket. He wore his heavy coat; a shift to a north wind had blown in overnight. His Christmas underwear felt wonderful, and the new boots fit a little tight, but they’d stretch in time. Nothing could spoil this day for him. After ten days without her, he felt starved—but he sure didn’t want to scare her.

  He pulled down his hat brim and gave Dun his head. The big gelding could short-lope across Texas and not be winded. Taking shortcuts and the back way, in record time he reined Dun up and looked down on her place. He let the big horse catch his breath, then started off down the hillside.

  She came out the back door and shaded her eyes with her hands to see who was coming. He could see her smiling a long ways from the house. Short-loping Dun, he rolled in beside her and dismounted on the fly. He swept her up in his arms and they kissed as hungry as he could ever remember.

  “You didn’t get me a present, did you?” Her gaze centered on the package tied ot the horn

  “No,” he said to see her reaction. “It’s just a little thing.”

  “You did.”

  “Let me unsaddle Dun and we can go inside and you’ll see it’s nothing.”

  She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him with more abandon than the first time. His head spun while he was undoing the girth and stripping the saddle and pads off. With Dun in the corral, he kept the package away from her in a teasing way. Twisting and turning, they went to the house. Inside, he handed it to her and took off his coat.

  “You shouldn’t have gotten me anything.” Unable to break the string, she used a butcher knife off the dry sink to make quick work of it. When she opened it, her blue eyes flew open. A small scream of excitement came from her mouth and she dropped on her butt atop the bed with the partially opened package in her lap.

  “Oh, my God! You did—you did. Oh, Chester, it is gorgeous.” She held the blouse up at arm’s length. “How—how did you know my size?”

  “You aren’t supposed to ask those things. I just hope it fits.”

  “It will. It will. And a riding skirt. And a jacket. I never got a Christmas gift in my whole life this nice.” She jumped up and began to undress.

  He turned his back.

  “How is everyone at the ranch?” she asked.

  He could hear her rushing to get into the new outfit. “Fine. Susie really laid Christmas on them.”

  “Oh, my—” she said, and he turned around.

  The lacy blouse fit her perfectly. It was dressy-looking with the riding skirt. He helped her into the jacket and tears began to run down her face. “I never got a present so nice in all my life.”

  She clung to him and they kissed. When their passion got beyond that stage, he tried to toe off his new tight boots. Didn’t work. So after he’d hopped around on one foot to try to remove them, she shoved him on the bed with her hands on his chest and debooted him.

  They were both laughing so hard, he had to wipe the tears off his face.

  Late afternoon, he stood at the dry sink drinking water from a dipper. The cool room air swept the bare skin on his legs. He went over and added some more split wood to the dying fire in the hearth. Squatting on his bare feet, he watched the flames begin to consume the new fuel. Wrapped in a blanket, she came over and joined him.

  “Merry Christmas, Chester Byrnes,” she said in a smoky voice with her arm slung over his shoulder.

  He nodded his head in approval. “Yes, this is.”

  This small house and Kathren sure made a helluva Garden of Eden.

  Chapter 29

  Did ja or didn’t ja? That was the question Susie had to know when he got back to the ranch. He read it on her face, and she was about beside herself before they had a moment alone. Scratching his head, he shrugged. “Never had time.”

  “Oh, for heaven sakes, in two days. Do you mean you didn’t have ten seconds to ask her?”

  He shook his head and dropped his gaze so he didn’t laugh. “We really didn’t have any time for anything.”

  “Two whole days?”

  “Someday you’ll see.”

  “I think you were afraid to ask her.”

  “Maybe—I didn’t want to ruin the neat time we had together.”

  “I saw that neat time written all over your face when you rode in.”

  “That obvious, huh?”

  “Worse than obvious.” She poured him some coffee, then sank on the chair across the table. “Do you think that you’ll ask her?”

  He shrugged. “In time, if she wants me to.”

  “She doesn’t want to?”

  “I never said that. We’re kinda letting our relationship ferment like wine. And it keeps getting better.”

  “How did she like the outfit?”

  “That was the frosting. She cried.”

  “Cried?”

  “I guess Luther Hines never believed in Christmas either.”

  Susie shook her head. “He must have been strange.”

  “No, I think he must have been real self-centered. She did all the work on the ranch and he rode off most of the time. God knows where. I think she suspected where he went, but she never offered to tell
me that part. When he was home, she said nothing could bother him.”

  “Where do you think he went?”

  He didn’t answer her at once. “I think he went far away and he robbed individuals on the road. Probably shot them and took their valuables. No witnesses. Highwayman, I guess you’d call him.”

  “Really.”

  “He had a small herd of cattle and yet he always rode good horses. They cost money. But the horses were all nondescript. No white markings. Other things about the way they lived told me he must have done something, for he had other sources of income. He was tough physically and coldhearted as a north wind. There’s some black chapter there that we may never know about.”

  “What are your plans now?”

  “To get everything done for the drive. She knows I’ll be busy. Maybe when that’s over, we can talk more about our lives.”

  Susie shook her head. “What’s on for today?”

  “Get you some woodcutters to bring in wood. I’ll ride down to San Lupe and see the man. He’s sending me those families later to farm. Maybe they’ll come up early and get you some more wood cut.”

  “Good.”

  He rode Strawberry, and the cool weather warmed as the sun rose. Dale Allen and his crew were skirting the south end, driving ranch stock back and strays off their land. At breakfast, his brother had told him that the problem of cattle being pushed on the ranch had eased up. Most that they turned back now were obvious strays.

  Maybe the feud was dying. Shelby was still on the run. When Chet reached San Lupe, there were several heavily loaded carts with oxen hitched parked in the street. Don Miguel was overseeing things, and smiled when Chet rode up.

  “Ah, they were just getting ready to go to your ranch,” Miguel said.

  Chet shook his and Pepe’s hand. Pepe would be the segundo in charge of the men and had worked for Dale Allen for many seasons.

  “We plant many acres this year?” Pepe asked.