by David Cross
“How did you get me into the house?” he asked.
“It wasn’t very easy, but I managed it. It was getting you into the bed, and digging that bullet out, that was the big chore,” she smiled grimly. “You were so weak, you weren’t much help. I wasn’t sure you were going to live. You kept mumbling about Murdock’s men, and an ambush.”
“The man you shot was one of the men that shot me, I think. I heard them call each other Drago, and Marvin. I don’t know either of them, but I did hear them talking about how happy Murdock would be that I was dead. When I get through with him, and his hired guns, he will sure as shootin’ wish I was dead.”
It was a week before the riders came again, intent on throwing a scare into Sarah once more. Jake heard the horses coming, and grabbing his holstered pistol from the headboard, picked up his rifle, and scurried through the back door. He jacked a shell into his rifle, as he came up on the side of the house, to watch the men pull their horses to a halt in front. He looked them over, but could not see Murdock among them. He did spot one man with a silver concho band around his hat, and wearing a pair of low-slung pistols. He had never seen the man before, but he was sure it was the one called Drago, and when he heard him speak, he was sure of it.
“Missus Killman, we’ve come to escort you off this land. You and your husband abandoned it over four years ago, and Mister Murdock moved on it and proved up on it, making it part of his ranch. Therefore, you got no right to squat on it.”
“You men aren’t the law, and you don’t seem to know much about it. It takes seven years to prove abandonment, and your and me out of my home, just over two years from the time my husband left. Now get off my land, and stay off!” Jake heard her voice ring into the night. “If you come around here again, I’ll shoot you.”
“Now ma’am,” Drago chuckled. “We come over here to help you move out, and you go talking mean to us. You might scare us with that kind of talk.” His sentence ended in a loud guffaw.
Stepping around the corner of the house, he jacked the lever on his rifle, so all could hear it, and his voice rang out clearly in the still night. “You might be good at bushwhacking Drago, but you and your cohort should have made sure I was dead. He fired once, catching the man in the chest, knocking him out of the saddle. He quickly levered another shell into the rifle, aiming at the group of men, who could only stand their horses in shock.
“Now Marvin, it’s your turn,” he said loudly, aiming in the general direction of the men.
“No, no Killman! It weren’t my idea! It was all Drago! He did the shooting. I just went along for the ride. Honest!”
He had not known which of these men was Marvin when he spoke, but the runty character near the front of the group was holding his hands out in front of him. He did not hesitate, the rifle barked once more, hitting Marvin in the center of his forehead. Marvin wilted from the saddle, leaving the other five men sitting their horses, still in shock. Everything had happened so quick they were stunned. They had been told Jake Killman was dead and he turns up alive, with a rifle trained on them.
“Now, the rest of you men can ride out, if you’re a mind to, and if I was you, I’d keep riding. I’ll be gunning Murdock from here on out, and if any of you are still around, you’ll get what these two back shooters got. I don’t normally countenance six-gun justice, but in his case, I intend to give what I seem to get. Now get this carrion on their horses and git!”
He held his rifle in his big right hand like a pistol, raking the finger of his left across his full mustache, as three of the men dismounted, and helped each other load the grizzly cargo onto the empty saddles. When they had tied the bodies onto the horses, so they wouldn’t fall off, they remounted. The two horses with the bodies tied to them weren’t happy about the smell of the blood that had been tied on them.
“Like I said gents, from here on out things are going to get rough. Unless you got a lot of grit, I suggest you collect your pay from Murdock and ride. This is the only warning I’ll give you yahoos. If you’re still riding for the bar M after this, you’d best be grabbing for your iron when you see me.”
One of the men sitting in the front of the group asked, “You think you can take us all Mister? There’s enough guns working for Murdock to take on a passel of hombres like you,.” He spat in the dirt, his mouth curling with a sneer.
“Any time you want to try your luck, you do your damndest,” Jake said softly. “We can make it right here, if you got enough gizzard.”
The man who had spoken, glanced around him quickly, wondering if the rest of the men would back his play, then nervously fiddled with his reins, his hands resting on his saddle horn. He wasn’t sure he could pull off his threat, or that the men behind him would even draw, if he decided to pull on the big man in front of him. He knew that Drago, and Marvin had set an ambush for him, and Drago was a dead shot. By all rights, he should be laying dead someplace, yet he had come out of the ambush alive, and he didn’t look much worse for wear.
“There’ll be another time Killman,” the man said nervously, and reined his horse around in a tight circle.
“I’ll be looking forward to it. I won’t be so friendly the next time.”
He stood watching the men ride away, the rifle held ready for action, yet dreading the battle that was now a fact that could not be denied. Before, he had hoped that Murdock would back off, and leave he, and his family alone, but now he was committed to a war he did not want, fighting another battle that he had not figured on. He had had small hopes of making friends with all his neighbors on the mesa, but Murdock was a pusher.
He had moved onto the range with a hunger for land that failed to take into consideration, the needs, or the wants of anyone else, throwing a wide loop over the land, and hiring guns to back up his play. Jake had been able to keep him from pushing his neighbors out, along with Grat Osterman, and Jose Catano, but Murdock had grown bolder with his leaving for the war, and started pushing out the weaker ranchers, using hired guns to do the dirty work. It seemed he was on the verge of pushing out the stronger ranchers now, or at least he was pushing hard against Killman.
He would find that he had his work cut out for him, Killman thought wryly. Murdock had not reckoned with the range justice that came from the six-guns of someone as agile with them as Jake was. He would soon find that he had more than he could have ever dreamed he had bargained for. Jake would become his worst nightmare, the most lethal of anyone the man had yet met.
He stood for a few minutes, waiting to see if any of the men doubled back. When he was satisfied that they were gone for the time being, he circled back to the rear of the house, entering as he had exited. Sarah was standing in the middle of the front room, her arms clasped tightly over her breasts, her body shaking with anxiety. He stood the rifle against the wall and crossed over to her, taking her in his arms, and holding her tightly against his broad chest.
“It will be all right. Don’t fret about it. I’m home now,” he said softly.
Chapter IV
Blood on the East Verde
The next day, he rode to the ranch of his neighbor, Grat Osterman. He needed to know whom he could rely on in this fight, and he needed to know quickly. Grat was out near the barn, tossing hay into the corral for his horses, when he spotted Jake riding in. He didn’t reach for the Winchester standing against the barn wall, but stood leaning on the pitchfork, watching him ride in. Mary, his wife came to the door, and stood holding the screen, shading her eyes to better see who was coming to visit.
“Howdy Grat,” Jake said, as he touched the brim of his hat. “I see you didn’t reach for your rifle. Guess you must have recognized me.” The last was said with a huge grin.
Grat stepped up to the side of his horse, extending his hand upward, and Jake bent to take the calloused hand. It was a grip of pure pleasure and warmth that greeted him.
“Well I’ll be damned!” Grat said. “I heard you was back from the war. Mike said you was here, and going to fetch Sarah home.�
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He released Jake’s hand and stepped back, turning his head to the side, he yelled, “Mary, its Jake Killman! Come on out and say hello!” Turning back to Jake, he said, “Why didn’t you bring Sarah along. We ain’t seen her for over a year. Mary just baked some pies and we could have visited a spell.”
“Maybe another time Grat. Thanks for the invite. I came on business this time. How are you holding up against Murdock these days?”
“Oh, he keeps growling, but I don’t pay him no nevermind. I figure his bark is worse than his bite anyways,” he grinned. By this time, Mary was there and Jake swung from the saddle.
She ran into his arms, telling him how good it was to have him back home. She was a nice looking woman, leaning a little to the heavier side in her middle thirties, but still a comely woman. He hugged her and then stepped back to look at her.
“You’re just as pretty as ever Mary,” he said. “If Grat wasn’t a friend of mine, and I wasn’t married, I’d be hard tempted to steal you away from Grat,” he smiled down at her.
“Oh, get on with you Jake Killman. You’re still the flatterer you always were,” she giggled, wrapping her hands in the wite apron she wore. “You two come on up to the house and have some pie and coffee.” With that, she turned toward the house, leaving her husband he to men’s talk, and hurried on to the house.
“Have you been having much trouble with Murdock lately?” Jake asked.
“Some. I hired me a couple of tough guns to ride for me, so he lets my crew alone, but he tries to run a bluff on me every now and then, but I think he knows I won’t be scared off my land.”
“You best keep a wary eye on him and his men from here on out. Two of them tried to bushwhack me a few days ago, and they almost succeeded. I was out on the north rim, chousing cattle, when the one called Drago tried to gun me from ambush. Lucky for me, he hit me in the shoulder, and I rolled onto a ledge below the lip of the rim.”
“You don’t say?” Grat said with real concern. “I figured it was just a matter of time, before that critter went too far. What you aim to do?”
“They came by my place last night, a whole passel of them, and told Mary they were there to escort her off the property, that it wasn’t mine any more, because we had abandoned it. I think they must have been pretty sure I was dead.”
“Abandoned! Grat expostulated that takes a heap more years than you or the missus have bee gone form the place.”
“That don’t seem to matter to Harvey Murdock, and neither does murder. I knew he was trouble the first time I met him in the mercantile at Strawberry, back in ’62.”
“He even tried to muscle old Ely into selling the mercantile to him, but Stoler came to his rescue and made him back down, Grat said. “I could just imagine what this rim country would be like if he had gotten hold of the store. He would have had a pretty good strangle hold on all the ranchers.”
Jake nodded. “I don’t guess I have to worry about where you stand, if it comes to a range war.”
“Course not! You just call on me any time. I’ll back you with everything I’ve got.”
They shook hands again, and then turned to the house for some of Mary’s pie and coffee. He was sure Jose would throw in with him, so he wasn’t in too much of a hurry to reach his place. He would stop at the Michael’s Lazy M ranch and then at the Joe Docker’s bar D bar, then on to see Jose at his Pine Tree Hacienda, and finish with the Tophat ranch and talk to Seph Hatter. He was pretty sure all of them would throw in against Murdock, especially Jose Catano.
They conversed about the ranches, the drought that hit the rim in ’64 and how Murdock had tried to gain control of the water for the entire mesa, by damming up the East Verde and re-routing it around Pine Tree, but he had not contended with the tough Mexican riders that worked for Catano. After six of his Murdock’s men had died in a gun fight against three of Catano’s vaqueros, in the saloon at Strawberry, and two days later, his men had destroyed the beginnings of the dam and trench he had started, he decided he had bitten off a little more than he could chew, and gave it up. From that day forward, he had steered a cautious path around Catano, and his men.
After finishing two pieces of Mary’s excellent pie, washed down with two cups of good strong coffee, he bid them farewell. Mounting, he rode off to the south to visit the other ranches. He found that Michaels and Docker felt the same as did Osterman, and changed his direction to the southwest, deciding to check out Hatter on the other side of the East Verde, then for the river just above the falls, and straight north to Catano’s place.
Hatter shared the river, with Hatter on the south side and Catano on the north. Both men were hard-bitten ranchers, who weren’t afraid to use their guns, when needed. Hatter was glad to see him and told him he would be there when needed. He spent a few minutes talking over old times, then rode out to the ford, where the shallowest part of the river ran over a rocky bottom.
He was half way across the crossing, when a shot took his hat off and sent it sailing into the river. He dove from his horse, pulling his rifle free as he did. He had spotted the puff of smoke from the shooter, to his left across the river, and kneeling in the knee deep water, took aim and fired the big bore Spencer, and saw a rider fall from his horse into the open. Then a dozen riders converged on him from the same area, firing as they rode. The water where he knelt was only two feet deep, and at this point, not too deep, so he took careful aim and dropped another rider from the saddle, then a second, third and fourth with out let up. The last rider fell to the big bore rifle, turning the water red when he landed in the shallow part near the bank.
This seemed to break the spirit of the remaining attackers, and they turned tail. He knew who they were, before he even checked the brands on their horses. He turned the two bodies that had fallen nearest him over, recognizing the man who had threatened him the night before. All of the men that lay along the edge of the river should have taken his advice, and ridden out. Now they wouldn’t be riding any place any more.
Rising to his feet, he felt the twinge of pain that signaled a wound in his left side, along his rib cage. He was so wet from the river, and in the heat of the battle, he had not felt it before. Now, as he stuffed his neckerchief into his shirt to stop the flow of blood, he found he also had sustained a crease along his right cheek. Both wounds were superficial, creating a nuisance only, with no danger to his losing consciousness, or dying. He tore a piece of cloth from his shirt tail and held it against his cheek, and caught up his mount.
When he rode into the courtyard of the Pine Tree Hacienda, two of Jose’s vaqueros were quick to meet him, their hands on the pistols. Jose Catano exited the front door, and with recognition came a smile that creased his weather worn face.
“Lower your pistols hombres!” Catano bellowed with mirth. “Esta hombre es mi compadre! He is always welcome here.” His language was a mixture of English and Spanish flavored with a few epithets of swearing.
When he saw the blood on Jake’s shirt and face, his smile faded into a look of concern. “You’ve been shot! Miguel, help the señor from his horse! How did this thing happen?”
“It’s nothing, my good friend. Just a little set to with some of Murdock’s men. I left a few of them along the bank of the river, so I guess they got the worst of it,” he said.
Jake swung from the saddle, and followed his old friend into the house. “The reason I stopped by, other than to say hello to an old friend was to let you know that the lines have been drawn between Murdock, and me. I know there’s no love lost between you two, so watch your back trail amigo.”
“Did this son of a puta do this to you my friend? I will take my vaqueros to his ranch and drive him from the mesa!” he said, spitting on the ground at his feet.
“No, just bide your time Jose. He is so greedy; he will trip himself up sooner or later. He lost seven men today, and two more last night, and I sent two more home across their saddles the first day I was back. He should be feeling those losses pretty heavy, and hi
s men should be losing confidence as well.”
“How many times can you face such ambushes señor? You are not a cat that has nine lives,” Jose said softly.
“I’ll be a lot more careful from here on out. Instead of becoming the hunted, I intend to become the hunter.”
“You will stay for dinner señor Jake? We have much time to catch up.”
“Can’t do it old friend. Sarah is expecting me home for dinner. She would skin me alive, if I was late,” he chuckled.
“I understand amigo. You bring the pretty wife over to visit. I have only had news from señor Stamper, that she left the rancho about a year past. Since then, he only tells me she is working in Payson, and he knows no more. I am glad to hear she is back with you on the rancho.”
Catano had his maid bandage his cheek, and side, before they shook hands again, bidding each other goodbye. As Jake swung into the saddle, he noticed the vaquero Catano had called Miguel, standing near the gate of the courtyard, and another near the side gate. They both looked as thought they could take care of any trouble that might come their way, and he knew the men Catano hired would be the most loyal and of the highest quality to be found in Mexico, when it came to using either a rifle or a pistol, or as a rider.
He touched the brim of his hat, wheeled toward the front gate, and rode out. It was late afternoon, so he would have to ride straight for home to get there in time for supper. His eyes roamed around him, looking for dangers at every turn in the trail, picking out anything that might be unusual, or out of place. He would not be caught with his pants down again. From now on, he would take the fight to the men of the circle M, and finally to Murdock himself. The time of warnings was over. Now it was time for him to act.
