Once a Ranger

by Dusty Richards

  “Only the Ramona part sounds familiar to me,” Noble said. “I once knew a Mexican woman by that name who treated horny cowboys.”

  They both laughed.

  “She was married to a man who repaired saddles in his shop. But she earned her money repairing ranch hands.” Noble slapped his knees and laughed. “I’m certain the glove maker and her are not the same one.”

  “But we have a name, and someone will know of her.”

  A coyote yapped on the mountainside. Another answered and the cricket chorus chirped away in the star-filled night. Guthrey went to sleep pleased that they had more evidence on the grim murders. His hope was restored; someday they’d solve the case and arrest the killer or killers. Then he slept, missing his wife’s warmness to cuddle with.

  SEVEN

  ANOTHER ISOLATED RANCH they rode up to at midday hosted a Mexican man and his family. His name was Guermo Diaz, and his very pregnant wife was named Deloris. They had three small children and had carefully raised a small garden with limited springwater.

  “Is this your ranchero?” Guermo asked him.

  “No.” Guthrey shook his head at the man.

  “Can I stay here? I have no work. I have no place. When I found this place I tell Deloris it will feed us.”

  “I’m Sheriff Guthrey. As I said, no, I don’t own it. But I can see you two have worked hard here. I see the garden is doing well. My wife at our ranch could use you, and then you’d have a job and we could find you a house, I am certain.” He drew them a map in the dirt of how to get there. Guermo nodded that he could find the place.

  “Don’t try to go until the baby is born. The job will be open for you.”

  “Muchas gracias, Senor Guthrey.” His dark-faced wife hugged his arm and acted excited standing beside him as he shook Guthrey’s hand.

  “Have you seen any strange men around here lately?”

  Guermo’s face had a look like he was considering something. “Three men came by here last week. They asked me lots of questions like they owned this place.”

  “What did they look like?”

  “One was a giant of a man. He was like a big bear. The redheaded guy was the boss and he kept looking at my wife. He worried me.”

  “Were there more?”

  “A Mexican boy was their slave. I only know they called him bad names.”

  “This redheaded man was how tall?” Guthrey’s mind sharpened at the challenge.

  “Taller than you, senor.”

  “He was an hombre muy malo,” his wife said and shook her head as if she was still wary of him.

  “Had he ever been by here before?”

  “No and I hope he never comes back.”

  “Be careful. Those men are killers of innocent people.”

  “Sí, we will. Muchas gracias, we will be anxious to work for you, senor.”

  Guthrey almost hated to leave them, but he wanted to go cross-country and get home. His clothes still stunk of the dead man. At last they had a suspect—a redheaded man and his slave.

  He told them, “We’re going home. You be careful getting to my place.”

  “Ah, sí, senor, we will work hard for you.”

  * * *

  GUTHREY AND NOBLE arrived back at the Bridges Ranch after sundown. Cally must have hurried and dressed, ’cause she came hard on the run to hug him.

  “Maybe not,” he cautioned her when she was within six feet of him.

  “Oh, you do smell bad but I have missed you.” She snuggled up and hugged him anyway. “What is that terrible odor?”

  “We had to dig up a man’s corpse and take it back to town.”

  “Oh, that sounds horrible. Have you eaten?”

  “No, ma’am. I’m sure glad you asked,” Noble said.

  “I will get you two some soap and clean clothes. Then I’ll fix you some food, all right?”

  “Fine,” Guthrey said. “Oh, I hired you a nice man and his wife. They’ll come when she has her baby. His name is Guermo Diaz and her name’s Deloris. They’ve been subsisting on an old abandoned ranch but they will work.”

  Noble agreed. “They really are hard workers.”

  “I don’t need any help,” Cally said, sticking her heels in the ground at the notion.

  “Yes, you do. And we can afford it.”

  “Well, sheriff, I’ll go get your clothes and soap.”

  Noble said softly, “I figured she’d be happy about them coming to help her.”

  “I knew she’d rebel. She wants to do it all herself.” They both laughed.

  “Yeah, you can’t never tell about a woman, kin ya?”

  “In all your years on this earth you finally figured that out?” Guthrey asked as they headed for the house.

  Noble was laughing too hard to answer him. He simply nodded.

  * * *

  AFTER HIS SHOWER, Guthrey joined Cally at the house and Noble came in a short while later.

  She made them pancakes and fried up some ham. After pouring them coffee, she swept her dress under and sat down. “Now tell me about the dead man.”

  “We found a fresh grave on this abandoned ranch and wondered who was in it. We dug up a big man who we figure was one of those on the scene of the murders. I knew it would be bad, but Noble will tell you it was even worse. His body is at the funeral home now and I hope to get it identified.”

  “This is one of the men who killed those poor Carlsons?”

  “Yes, I had his boot print. We have a description of the gang leader too.”

  Cally shook her head at them. “You two are regular detectives.”

  “We also found the name of a woman who may have made that glove I found on the scene.”

  “So watch out for any redheaded stranger. He may be the killer,” Noble said.

  “Do you think he might come here?” She frowned at them.

  “Darling, I hope not. But he slips around, Noble will tell you. The only people who have seen him that we know about are that Mexican couple. Just be aware.”

  She agreed. “Any more word on that new superintendent at the former Whitmore Ranch?”

  “We’ve been in the talus looking for those killers, so we haven’t heard anything. If there has been no word from my deputies, I guess Pierson thought better than to tell them what he’d do again.”

  She scowled. “I bet he tries to push people out like Whitmore did.”

  “They still have rooms available at Yuma.”

  She laughed and clapped his shoulder. “My husband has hotel rooms down there, doesn’t he?”

  Noble looked up and smiled. “He made sure near all of that bunch was sent down there. Those law clerks told me he had a record number of convictions on that roundup of criminals in this county.”

  “I didn’t do too bad, then, marrying him?” Cally shook her head and smiled.

  “You did terrible,” Guthrey teased and squeezed her arm.

  Frowning, she shook her head. “You are the best, and I am proud to be your wife.”

  He leaned over and kissed her. “As long as you are.”

  “I’m going to bed,” Noble said. “What are we doing tomorrow?”

  “Is Dan here?” Guthrey asked Cally.

  She shook her head. “He’s supposed to be back early.”

  Guthrey nodded. “If he’s still alive then, why don’t you two take the north range and check stock.”

  “I’ll do that even if he can’t.”

  Guthrey nodded again. “In the morning I’ll go make certain things at the office are all right, and try to be back for supper.”

  “Do we need to move down there?” Cally asked.

  “Not yet. This is your home and Dan needs you.”

  “Not much.” She made a face. “I hate all the traveling you have to do.”

  “I always have
you when I get back.”

  * * *

  DAWN CAME EARLY. Guthrey set out for Steward’s Crossing first to check with his deputy Ike Sweeney and be sure he didn’t need any help. The man was a solid veteran of law enforcement, but one never knew what could spring up in this job.

  In the cool morning air, Guthrey found Sweeney in his usual spot, on his porch in a rocker, drinking coffee. His pleasant wife, Myrna, who came to the door, went after a cup of coffee for him.

  “How are things going?”

  “Peaceful. I’ve arrested a drunk or two when they get too wild. The justice of the peace fines them or makes them work around town and they soon settle down. What do you have?”

  “There’s a murderer on the loose. Killed a family up north a week ago. The suspect has red hair, medium build, and has a Mexican boy who they say is his slave.”

  “I got a report from Baker about that crime and read the newspaper. How did you find this suspect?”

  “We dug up a dead man over at an abandoned ranch up north of Soda Springs. I think he was at the murder scene. Bad deal, but his boots fit our prints from the scene.”

  Sweeney frowned. “Dug him up?”

  “Yes, a real bad deal, but we wondered who was buried in that grave and we found him. I can still smell it.”

  “Anyone know who he was?”

  “I’m headed over to Soda Springs to see if anyone recognized him.”

  “This redhead didn’t have a name either?”

  “No. I suspect the killer was a fringe rider.”

  “He shows up, I’ll send word.”

  “Good. But remember he’s a killer, so don’t risk your life. I never saw the like of the scene we found up there. I won’t ever forget it.”

  “I’ll poke around. See if someone’s seen him or knows where he’s sleeping.”

  “Don’t try to take him by yourself. Wire for help if you get a lead.”

  Sweeney agreed and Guthrey rode on after thanking the deputy’s wife, who asked to feed him.

  * * *

  AT THE SHERIFF’S office, Zamora was behind the desk, sorting wanted posters that came in the mail.

  “How are things going?” Guthrey asked him.

  “Oh, fine. Pretty damn quiet. Do you know Sammy Enrico in Tucson?”

  “No, who is he?”

  “I think he’s with that Tucson Ring you told us about when we first came over here.”

  “What’s he doing?”

  “I don’t know, but he was in town for two days this week holding meetings with some suspicious people.”

  “Who were they?”

  “A guy named Ryles was one of them.”

  “What does Ryles do?”

  “I think he’s a lookout. He gambles some. Close-chested kind of guy, but he knows lots about what’s going on. He may work for the ring as a front man.”

  “Maybe we need to run him out of town as undesirable.”

  Zamora nodded. “Baker and I will look for an excuse. How’s that?”

  Guthrey was pleased. “Good idea. In Tombstone they may have to put up with them. We don’t answer to mine companies here. We answer to citizens. Any identification on the corpse we brought in?”

  Zamora handed Guthrey a page of paper. It was from the funeral man Combs.

  The victim had been shot twice in the face with .45-caliber bullets at close range. He had been dead for some time before being dug up. I wired ahead to Tucson, and Sheriff Ramos reported by wire to me that he thought the corpse belonged to a Johnny Cord. He was a small-time thief and was wanted for various crimes in his district. Associated with known criminals, like Clell House and Knute Yarman.

  Zamora pulled out all the wanted posters for those two and spread them on the desk. House’s and Yarman’s descriptions—no red hair—made Guthrey shake his head.

  “That rules those two out.”

  “We’ll start checking for a guy with red hair.”

  “Good. Warn everyone that he’s dangerous and not to try to arrest him by themselves. Right now he’s only a suspect for us. But there are enough charges that we can arrest him and hold him for Sheriff Ramos.”

  “We’ll watch for him.”

  “I’m making rounds. Things are quiet, so that’s good. I may slip off for a few days with my wife to Mount Graham. Noble will know where I’m at.”

  “Escape the heat, huh?”

  “It’s cool up there, that’s for sure. Did you have any luck on a spy system to warn us if a Mexican gang is coming out of there?”

  “No, but I wrote to a man I know who is on the Santa Cruz County Sheriff’s staff down there at Nogales. He may have an answer.”

  “Good idea. I’ll head back home. Can Baker hold the justice of the peace inquest on both the murders and this other guy—Johnny Cord?”

  “Baker’s preparing it and told me he figured he’d get the job.”

  “Tell him thanks. We’ve covered lots of ground here in a short time. I think people are pleased, but only if we can hold our place.”

  “We will.”

  “I’m counting on everyone.”

  He rode back to the ranch and his bright-faced wife met him at the corral while he unsaddled.

  “Good to have you back so soon. All is well?”

  “Fine. Maybe we can go up on the mountain this week.”

  “Good. We can go over and talk to the Nelsons about it and see if the cabin is available.”

  “I’ll hitch the team.”

  “No, let’s eat supper. We can check in the morning.”

  “Fine.” He hugged her. “Tomorrow is fine.”

  To sleep with his wife in his own bed was relaxing and he was up at dawn. He walked around the house and saw a saddled horse in the dim light and a figure lying on the ground.

  He squatted down beside the body under the starlight and could see it was Dan. He was breathing but his breath smelled like whiskey. Guthrey rubbed his own shirtsleeves in the cool predawn. He shook Dan’s shoulder.

  “Huh? What’cha want?”

  “I think you better get up and go sleep in the bunkhouse.”

  “I’m fine here. Leave me alone.”

  Guthrey got under his arm and hauled him to his feet. Then he half carried him to the bunkhouse, with a staggering Dan complaining all the way. The door was open and, once inside, Guthrey propelled him facedown on top of the cot.

  “Where did you find him?” Noble asked, sitting up in bed.

  “Sleeping out in the yard.”

  “Aw, hell, that boy has lost it.”

  “I better tell Cally.”

  “Might break her heart.”

  Guthrey agreed but didn’t see a way around it. He went and caught Dan’s horse, unsaddled him, and put him in the corral. Then he went back to the house and washed his hands on the porch.

  “Anything wrong?” Cally asked.

  “Dan made it home.”

  She frowned at him. “What?”

  “He made it back and was sleeping on the ground out there.”

  “Oh my, Phil, whatever is wrong with him?”

  “He must be on a drinking deal.”

  “Why? Dad’s death has been resolved. Whitmore is in prison. We have a good future.”

  “Cally, why most people drink is never simple, but mostly they do it to escape reality.”

  “Reality. We aren’t filthy rich but we do have money. We have no obvious enemies trying to run us off our land. I wish Dad was here to see all this.”

  “Morning, Cally,” Noble said, coming in and putting his hat on the wall.

  “Good morning. Is Dan all right?”

  “Snoring when I left him.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Noble, do you know of anything wrong in his life?”

  He shook his
head, taking his place at the table. “Except he’s not happy.”

  “What could change that?” she asked.

  “Oh, Cally, I don’t know. Things like that are like worms inside a person. You can’t see them but they roll around inside of them.”

  “Phil, what’s your best idea?”

  “Keep him busy. He acted pleased with things when we were with Thayer looking for the horse thieves.”

  “But we don’t have jobs like that all the time,” Noble said.

  “You’re saying we need to keep him occupied?” Cally asked, filling coffee cups while the rich aroma of her breakfast cooking filled the house.

  “I’m afraid it’s more complicated than that,” Guthrey said. “I’ll talk to him.”

  “Good.” Cally went to setting plates of food before them. “You two eat. Biscuits are coming next.”

  After breakfast, they drove over to the Nelsons’ ranch to see about the cabin. Thomas’s wife, Ruth, welcomed them. Thomas was out working cattle, and Guthrey and Cally spoke to her about using the cabin.

  “Lord yes, Cally. We can’t go up there anytime soon. We’re too shorthanded right now. Our best ranch hand broke his leg and is laid up. Thomas won’t leave the place till he’s able to get around.”

  “We better go home and pack,” Cally said. “Before he changes his mind.”

  * * *

  LOADED UP AFTER breakfast the next morning, Guthrey and Cally left the ranch to Noble and Dan. The drive was a hot one until they were halfway up Mount Graham. Cooler winds felt good on Guthrey’s face as he reined the team around curves and the altitude increased. By late afternoon they were at the snug cabin. He unloaded Cally and kissed her hard. Then they took the food and supplies inside. Enjoying the late afternoon wind in each other’s arms, they were content in their own company. Two hearts beating that close together and enjoying the intimate pleasures of marriage were their rewards.

  “Should we go to bed?” he asked.

  “I am so glad you asked me.” Then she laughed, trying to tickle him. He was complete with this young woman nestled in his life.