Dead Aim

by Dusty Richards

“Poor thing,” she whispered. “That guy Kenny was thirty.”

  Long bet he promised her the moon. Obviously, from her own words, he had a bad temper and she was better off without him.

  “Do you believe this story that her sister gave her that girl?”

  “That was hard to swallow, but we may never know the truth.”

  “You won’t just dump her?”

  “No. But listen close. I fear we have not heard the truth or all the story.”

  She snuggled to him. “Long, I will sure be careful and keep you informed.”

  “We will see.”

  “Yes. And you know what? I appreciate your brother sending us home early. I love you.”

  He was happy they were going home early, too.

  CHAPTER 22

  This Kenny never showed up. They arrived in Fort Worth. The two of them stayed at the Houston Hotel for two nights. He paid room and board in a lesser hotel, in the stockyards area, for the boys and another for Gladys and the little girl. They promised to protect her. Jan gave her a small amount of money that she said the girl needed for necessities.

  Awake, standing at the third-floor window, he saw the early sunshine spread over the sprawling city. Damn, he was lucky to be an O’Malley and not some illiterate bum working the alleys begging for his meals and sleeping in a trash pile. Nor a reservation Indian trying to raise crops in dry dirt—Hiram O’Malley saved him that twist in fate.

  She was hugging his waist from behind and sleepily rubbing her face on his bare back. “What are you thinking?”

  “Jan, I am so lucky to have you, Harp, and my parents. That I am not some drunk wrapped in a blanket outside some western fort passed out.”

  “Oh, Long, that sounds so bad.”

  He turned around and hugged her. “It is bad but it shadows me. Many men and women like me do not fit into either side. They are not white men, they are not red.”

  “I understand, but I never thought you’d worry about that.”

  “Not worry. The word for my concern is reflective.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He looked at the high ceiling for his answer. “I am looking in a mirror and seeing me as that defeated person.”

  “Your mother found that word?”

  “Every day, even Sunday, we had a big word to look up in that thick dictionary.”

  “I will remember that if I ever get to be a mother.”

  “I thought, at the time, what a drag when I’d rather be out shooting crows or catching catfish, but yes, it had made me think a lot.”

  “Well I am glad that you aren’t a blanket-wrapped Indian.”

  “So am I.”

  “Tomorrow we move on south. Ten days we will be on Mom’s porch and dancing again.”

  “That was so neat. Dancing in the yard when we got there the first time. I knew I was welcome and not as the woman who stole her son.”

  “Irish are a fun-loving people. They are much like the Indians. They came to America for real freedom after the potato famine, and they rode the wave of America to the West.”

  “Before you are through, I will know more about things than most folks I know. Thank you, Long O’Malley. I want you to know that your words never bore me.”

  “We better get dressed. Those boys will be here for us ready to move south.”

  “Yes, and I will be ready. I love and appreciate Texas and especially our real estate down there. Can we go look for that lake we talked about?”

  “I promise you we shall, since I am going to buy it when Clyde Nelson gets back home.”

  Gladys and Missy were up on the wagon seat with Boone in the street, Missy shouting for Janny to come see her new dress. They got organized and rolled south. Long felt pleased in the late afternoon when a nice shower settled the dust. They were out of Fort Worth headed south when the showers rolled over them. The sheets of rain were not too angry, and the fresh smell on the wind, with a cedar aroma, tickled his throat.

  But like so many ranchers and men of the soil, he gave the good Lord a big thanks for all moisture that fell, big or small, and even if not on his own land but for all the receivers. After supper the cool wind, with some moisture still in it, swept across his face as he stood in the doorway of his tent. He was close to where he wanted to spend the rest of his life . . . on his ranchland in south Texas.

  His men, all the way home, were spoiling Gladys and Missy. Nothing turned up from her past. Boone told him she heard nothing from that Kenny when they were in Fort Worth.

  Her new dress improved her appeal to the men, he decided.

  He asked Jan if Gladys had contacted her dying sister when she was in Fort Worth. Jan shook her head and turned up her palms. He shrugged and rode on.

  They really pushed hard going south and arrived on the home ranch on a late hot August afternoon. However they must have been seen by some hard-riding teen on the outlook because Long heard the bell pealing.

  The closer he came to the ranch, his horse began a prancing sideways walk. It was like when he’d heard the Mason German Marching Band playing and marching. His mount did the same thing when he heard the bell pealing. He was never certain why it was with the bells or music, but he smiled at his wife who was frowning at his former Comanche mount being so stirred up.

  “He can’t help it.”

  She shook her head. “I am excited, too, but you don’t see me jumping around.”

  His mother came on the run to hug Jan as soon as she dismounted. “You two made it?”

  “Hells of course they made it,” Hiram shouted as he hugged Long. “Damn. You lads are really cutting a big rug selling all those cattle for near a million dollars. It ain’t believable. M’ God I still don’t believe it happened.”

  “It happened. And we had a good run, too. I want you to meet Gladys and Missy. A man abandoned them on the road. They are family.”

  “How was Harp?” Katy asked, just joining them with her son in her arms.

  “Hobbling around. No. Harp is fine. He told me to get Jan home and I did.”

  She and the baby boy hugged him. They laughed. Hiram shook hands with the returning cowboys and thanked them.

  Long told them, “Men, I know Rex has already gone to see about his sick mother. Why don’t you all take three or four days off and then come back.” He handed them each twenty dollars. “Have a good time and I want all of you on our payroll.”

  They thanked everyone, flew into their saddles, and left waving hats and hollering.

  Long turned to his father. “You and Hoot holding it all down?”

  “So far we are. We are getting lots of gossip that the Comanche plan a great raid this fall. Maybe the largest one we’ve ever seen. These black foot soldiers are not mobile enough to stop them, and their state police are jumping around suspicious we are going to fight the war over again . . . they are worthless.”

  “Have you seen any sign of the Comanche scouting things out?”

  “Yes. But we’ve only seen sign they were around. No one has actually seen one. Or they’d have probably shot them. I think they are scouting a way to do the most damage and face the least opposition and get the most loot and horses. A Comanche counts the number of horses he has like you and Harp do your money in the bank, so I expect that will be their goal, and, Long, it will be bloody and revenge filled.”

  “What can we, as ranchers, do?”

  “You two men come into the house. We’re fixing a meal. You can talk cows later,” his mother said to them.

  Neal Hogan joined them—an older man Harp hired to be supervisor while Red was on the trail. Short, with a slow smile, Neal shook Long’s hand and hugged him. Neal was a small rancher who had agreed to do the job only while they were gone and that he’d go back to his own place when they got back. He was a man with a level head and knew the ranch business well.

  “How are the men that went up there? You look good.”

  “Fine, thanks. We lost one man, and a boy as well, but we had the least wrecks a
nd troubles of any drive. Market was softer but we did well. Harp will be back in a few weeks. He sent Jan and me home with a few hurt boys who are mending.”

  “Well, Hiram and I held it together with binder twine. Now you’re back things will go much smoother.”

  “I hope I can keep up with all you’ve done with Dad here.”

  “Oh, I am sure you’ll beat us ten times. Who is that girl with the child?”

  “A stray we found abandoned. Her name is Gladys and the little girl is her niece Missy. Some worthless guy abandoned them north of Fort Worth on a stretch of empty land on the road south. She said she has Missy because her sister was dying and wanted her to have care. I think all of that is right.”

  “You know the guy who dumped her?”

  “No. She is polite and acts like a lady, so, other than suspicions, I have nothing nor know any more than that.”

  Neal shook his head. “In my time, I’d have found him and horse-whipped him until he wouldn’t forget for pulling that stunt.”

  “I guess he’s gone. She said she never married him. Nor mentioned the rest of her family. She’s a good worker . . . she always makes herself busy and helpful.”

  “You be right. There be a story there, the likes of which we may never know.”

  Long smiled. His father’s accent came through in his speech when he talked about things that happened, or he was upset. His mother said he’d lost most of it since they got married, but it was still there, the last sign that he was Irish.

  Jan was dabbing her eyes with a hanky when he found her standing around the corner in the living room.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I guess I got carried away about being home. I mean, in my home, after all this time and your lovely caring mother, Katy, and Lee. I should be laughing and having fun but instead I melted into a crybaby.”

  He hugged her and reassured her everyone had a crying moment. She could have all she needed . . . she was at home and among folks loved her.

  She agreed and squeezed him tight. “And still not with child.”

  “That will be what God does. We’ve done all we can.”

  “Long, thanks. I am proud I found you and more pleased I didn’t shoot you.”

  “Everyone all right?” his mother asked.

  “We will be fine. Being home kind of swallowed Jan.”

  “I understand. Food’s ready. Come eat. And since Harp is not here, Long, you say the grace for us.”

  “I will.” And he did.

  With Neal on his right he listened to the man talk. “We’ve worked quite a bit on the placement of those new shorthorn and Hereford bulls you two bought that were delivered while you were gone. But Hiram and I learned that for them to compete with a rank longhorn they need to be older and more powerful. We have three in the pens. I had the boys drive them in and put them on feed. The longhorn bulls had them treed and wouldn’t let them out of their sight, so we cut a few of those worst fighting bulls and that helped some.”

  Long shook his head. “Nothing in change comes easy, does it?”

  “That’s for damn sure.”

  Jan was doing better, getting over her sadness, and his mom’s frijoles must have soothed her some, too.

  Things were in good shape on the ranches. He’d found how well most things were going. That took the strain off his mind, worrying all the way home how some deals might have fallen into bedlam while they were gone.

  He finally slipped off and took a nap.

  Before he went to supper with Jan, he stood at the upstairs window and let the hot wind blow the curtains by him. Being a large landowner was lots different from being a cattle drover for fifteen bucks a month. Lots different.

  Supper went well and during it he talked to the young man, Reg Hoffman, who from his wheelchair sat and did the ranch books.

  “The money for the cattle is already in the bank, and I have the shares figured out on paying the people when Harp gets here. It really was a highly successful trip.”

  “The O’Malley brothers win again.”

  “Do you have more plans for next year?”

  “I imagine we will continue those drives as long as it makes money or we find a new way to market cattle.”

  “I have heard lots of stories from guys my age who went north. Can you swim?”

  “Yes. My father taught us how to swim before we even left Arkansas. My mother, too. His first wife drowned, and he said he won’t let it happen to any of us.”

  “Is swimming fun?”

  “In nice warm water on a hot day—yes. On a cold one it is like running around naked in a snow storm.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t like that.”

  “Early in the spring on a cattle drive it is no fun.”

  He laughed.

  “What is so funny?” Easter asked him, coming into the room.

  “Long said swimming in a cold river was like running around naked in a snow storm.”

  They all laughed.

  It was good to be home where you didn’t have to be on your guard all the time. There were lots of people in the outside world who might, for no reason at all, become a biting dog.

  After the meal he read some back issues of the newspaper. He found nothing on carpetbaggers leaving Texas, which was what he was looking for. They were not going anywhere soon.

  Several small reports were written up on Indian raids in the country west of there. Most were attacks on isolated ranches. Rewards for kidnapped children being returned were also reported on. Why offer rewards? Those Indians who had them couldn’t read.

  There were auctions listed. Some had large cattle herds in estate sales. The O’Malleys would need more cows. Well, when Harp came back they could talk about it.

  “You going to see the sisters next and report to them on the sale?” his mother asked him.

  “I better hadn’t I?”

  “You are the co-manager.”

  “I prefer Harper to go have tea with them.”

  “I’ll go along and you can talk to the manager while we have tea,” Jan said, having just walked in to join him.

  “No poison in the tea. I am certain we will inherit it.”

  She laughed. “I could hurry it up.”

  “You are bragging now.”

  “I really enjoy them. They are sweet and like some people I knew up by Waco—well I never had tea with them. You know that tall girl in ragged overalls looking inside?”

  “I understand. So having tea is feeding that little girl’s past.”

  “You were a boy growing up. Your mother made sure you had pants and a clean shirt to wear. I bet you wore boots when you became teens.”

  “Dad bought us boots instead of brogans. He told Mom we were in Texas and Texans wore boots.”

  “Well when I had shoes they were off the pile of brogans piled on the counter and never fit.”

  “Darling, you fit very well in society today after having such a horrible start.”

  “And I like it.” She kissed him.

  No one realized, growing up, how students thought about things like that. Harp and him rode good horses to school. Kids who rode burros or plow mules must have felt like her about them. Someday . . . I will do that . . .

  CHAPTER 23

  Two days later Hoot sent word there were parties of Comanche roaming around down there and for Long to send him some backup men. Hearing that, Long rode into town and found the boys or had others round them up. They said that Rex’s mother was improving so he’d be joining them.

  He told them to find four more good tough guys for him to hire and they would ride to Hoot’s place and back them against any attack or whatever those red devils were up to. The men he needed had to be able to fight and shoot a Winchester or Colt. They would be paid twenty bucks and would be given a bonus for Indian fighting.

  Long had a beer in the Longhorn Saloon and free lunch off the bar while he waited. Fresh rye bread, with sliced ham, cheese, and mustard. A big thick delicious sandwich
washed down with draft beer. He had barely got the first bite down and they were back with four young men ready to ride.

  He wrote down their names in his logbook so he could keep them straight.

  Mickey Carr—freckles.

  Heft Davis—face scar.

  Tootie Morgan—always smiling.

  Webb Yancey—big guy, stoop shouldered.

  “Get lunch and a beer. We will head to the ranch afterward. Get a load of supplies, cooking gear, and packhorses and head out in the morning. My man down there says he has Comanche like some folks have ticks or fleas. We are there for Comanche control. It will be hard, fast riding. No place for the weak of heart. Anyone want out?”

  They all shook their heads.

  “Good. Eat well. It may be the last decent meal you have for weeks.”

  The new ones thanked him. There was always day work around, but a salaried job was a real good deal to have in those uncertain times. He understood the reason the four men were excited.

  Long hired a buckboard to take two of the new men, with their saddles and gear, to the ranch. The other two had horses the ranch would pasture. All were there at the cowboy supper that evening, and he told them to be up and have breakfast by sunup.

  After supper, Boone and Rex got their supplies out of the adobe warehouse where they were stored. Low Me wasn’t going with them, so the cooking chores were to be divided up. They might not be able to get a wagon through some of that brush country they might have to go through to chase down the enemy.

  Long felt good when he turned in—he had the men and the equipment to run down escaping Comanche. Action came next.

  CHAPTER 24

  Worst part about leaving—in the cooler morning air—had to be him kissing her good-bye. He’d miss her and she’d do the same about him. However this move was necessary. Stop the Comanche before they struck . . . and he hoped his lightning force was fast and strong enough to handle the matter.

  At the moment they had his complete faith. They would meet their painted red faces and turn them back to where they came from. Time would tell, and by late afternoon they were at the well-guarded South Ranch. Hoot came out to meet them wearing his large gray Boss of the Plains Stetson hat.