Dead Aim

by Dusty Richards

  Ira and Collie commented to Long about the man.

  “Now that was a damn real stiff shirt—short sleeves and all.”

  “He was colder than a long icicle,” Collie added.

  “But he drawled too much to be a Yankee.”

  “Hell, bossman, even Yankees wouldn’ta had him.”

  They had a good time trotting their horses in the fast greening world of spring. Long thought it might be a bluebell spring. That was when those flowers carpeted the entire rangeland and made it so pretty, painted blue.

  Later he told Jan and Carter about the short-sleeved, stiff-shirted surveyor.

  “Of course that doesn’t mean he isn’t accurate.”

  “Well for what he costs he needs to be accurate,” Jan said.

  “I need to go to town and straighten out some things one day this week.”

  “Good. We need more material for our sewing projects. Be sure to take those two men with you,” Jan told him. “I think I am keeping Rob’s and Boone’s wives busy sewing clothes, so they are not fretting too much over their men being gone with the herds.”

  “Neat idea.”

  Carter and Long talked about fence post procurement. There were plenty of cedars, and cutting them down would improve the range as well. Carter felt some private contractor could handle it.

  “What will we fence first?”

  “I think the west line. You have to send riders over there all the time to get cattle back.”

  “It is a long ways out there, and we don’t know when it will be surveyed.”

  “Miles will do it. Thanks, Carter. Find the post cutters.” They parted.

  He found Jan in the sewing circle, told the women hello, and motioned for her to come over to talk.

  “I just realized we didn’t tell Harp about our gold before he left with the cattle drive to Abilene.”

  Jan looked at him. “I think you are right. We were rushing around like chickens with our heads cut off, shipping cattle ourselves just before then.”

  He hugged her. “If that’s all we forget it will be a miracle.”

  “He will be surprised.”

  “Yes, but it will be a good one.”

  The next morning, in the early cool pre-dawn, he left for Junction, Ira and Collie with him. Collie’s horse walked on eggs the first half-mile, but Collie never let him buck.

  “Your wife’s sewing sure is popular among the womenfolk on the ranch.”

  Long agreed. “I guess if you were a female and all you had to wear to school were secondhand overalls, you’d think a lot about other children’s clothing.”

  “You kidding us?”

  “No. Jan had a broken family and lived with a widowed aunt who was poor. All Jan had to wear to school were some hand-me-down overalls. The aunt didn’t do that because she was mean—it was all she had.”

  “I never would have believed that. She always dresses nice.”

  “Collie, she looked to people around her as rich. Those girls who had decent dresses. It made her pretty tough. I suspect her first husband was equally as tough. When some old man came and told her she needed to be his concubine, her husband went and shot two of them. The others in the family killed him. She cussed worse than a sailor when I first met her. I told her that would not help her, and she quit. I mean she quit cold.”

  “I never heard her swear.”

  “She doesn’t.”

  “Yeah,” Collie said. “When I went to school in east Texas, there was a girl there wore her older brothers’ used overalls. But she wasn’t near as purty as your wife.”

  “Collie, I never saw her back then, but I bet boys said that about her. She said boys never dated her.”

  “Them boys up there by Waco needed glasses,” Ira said, and they laughed.

  In town he went into the bank and spoke to Lawrence about his money, the gold, and other financial matters.

  “The price of gold goes up and down like going over those mountains in the West. To change some of that gold to money on the high market will make you more money.”

  “I’d risk, say, one-tenth of it. That works, we will see about more. But I want a good earning or I’ll keep it in the gold.”

  They agreed and he signed the papers on the deal.

  He was walking on the boardwalk down Main Street in the warming sun, when three men began to close in on him. A big man with a walrus mustache stopped him almost face-to-face. Long looked him over—from the ivory butt of the Colt to the silk-wrapped brim of his Stetson hat.

  “You one of them O’Malleys?”

  “My name is Long. What do you want with me?”

  “Howard Burke. I’m against fences on Texas rangeland. I understand you are considering fencing some open range.”

  “It is not state land. I own it.”

  “No, it is rangeland. See, you don’t understand. This puts small ranchers at a disadvantage.”

  “You own any land at all?”

  “That isn’t the point.”

  A rifle action unmistakable clacked. “Mister, you want to go on living you back away from my boss.” Ira was sitting his horse right behind Long.

  The three men backed up as Collie joined Ira, also on horseback.

  “I can see our conversation about fencing is over.” Long touched his hat brim. “Good day.”

  “You better not stretch a single wire,” Burke said through his teeth. “You try, you will die.”

  “Better say your prayers if you come after me. I’ll send you to hell.”

  “You will see. You’ve been warned.”

  Long turned on his heel and spoke to his men. “I am going to meet Jan up at the Silver Spoon for lunch. Meet you two up there.”

  “We will just mosey along with you,” Ira said, booting his horse forward. Collie did the same.

  Many people had crossed the street to avoid the obvious threat. Others had scattered, but many were craning their necks to see where they went and who they were.

  A waitress was holding the door open. “Anyone shot?”

  Long looked back and shook his head. “No one hurt I know about.”

  “Good. There’s some crazy people in this town.”

  “There are crazies all over,” he said.

  “You in trouble?”

  “No. My men are coming. A man by the name of Howard Burke stopped me to give me advice not to put up any fences. He doesn’t like them.”

  She shrugged and shook her head. “Good thing you had backup. Your wife is sitting over there.”

  “Thanks. And my men handled it.”

  “May I take your order?”

  “Soon as two of my cowboys get here.”

  “Okay, I’ll be back.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Who was that guy?” Jan asked.

  “The president of the ‘don’t fence’ club.”

  “Come on.”

  “I never saw him before. He said he hated fences and threatened me not to fence any rangeland.”

  “You think he will block your survey?” she asked.

  “That S-O-B might do anything to prevent a strand of wire to be strung. This no-fence-deal in Texas has been in the newspaper.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure . . . if I had no rangeland I’d say don’t fence it. I’d want to graze free grass, too.”

  “So it is a big deal?”

  “For some. But if they try to stop us, I will end their worrying about it.”

  Ira and Collie walked in and sat down with them.

  Collie shook his head. “I knew he wasn’t a friend.”

  “Thanks,” Long said.

  “He was damn overbearing,” Ira said. “I saw him coming at you. We untied our horses and thought we’d do better on our horses if hell broke loose.”

  “Perfect job.”

  “That’s our job.” Ira and Collie nodded.

  They gave their order to the waitress.

  Long noticed there were lots of folks talking behind their hands, p
robably about the issue.

  “They make you think about not fencing?” Ira asked.

  “No. We have lots of range. It needs to be rested from time to time. Like selling all these steers. Our neighbor pointed out that was a lot less grass eaters up there, but under a fence the regrowth is ours, because we’ll soon have more cattle to eat it.”

  Ira agreed and wrapped his hand around a coffee cup to sip.

  “You ever have any squaw boots?” Ira asked Jan.

  “No.”

  “Long, did anyone ever talk to you about shoes for them wives and kids?”

  Long shook his head.

  “If we can get some leather, needles, and strong thread, I think I can get some of the boys to take a footprint and make them some. Be better than them old store shoes.”

  Long winked at Jan, then he reached over and shook Ira’s hand. “You have a deal.”

  “I bet they’ll love them in the winter,” Collie said.

  Long agreed. Lunch arrived.

  He shook his head. He had a real ranch family. Making barbed wire, herding cattle, and dressing the children, women, and now making them boots.

  “Let’s pray.”

  “Yes, we have lots to thank for,” Ira said, and they laid down their utensils and bowed.

  “Lord, we thank you for our people on the ranch. Thank you for providing this meal. Be with our herders on the way to Kansas, and look after them and all of our family down at Kerrville and here. Amen.”

  Both men quietly thanked him.

  On the ride home, they had to put on their slickers as a shower spilled precious rain on them and irrigated the bluebells. Dismounting in the barn alleyway, Long felt blessed by the rain. His wife, still in her slicker, waited, ready to hurry for their office-house. The air was clean and fresh. His men told him to go on, that they’d unsaddle the horses.

  They ran for the office holding hands and once inside hugged and kissed.

  “Neat day.”

  “Aside from that Burke guy who didn’t want me fencing.”

  “How bad did he threaten you?”

  “Not much, with the men there. I expect that kind to show up. I have had bullies like that get in my face all my life. I used to knock them out. Harp told me to just ignore them. I tried, but I still blew up if they got my goat.”

  “Hey, I lost one guy who got mad and went to find bullies. I don’t want to lose you.”

  Carter came in the office dripping. “Hey, Ira said—”

  “Those boys did good. The guy hates fences.”

  His foreman put his hat and slicker up on a tree hook. “I am pleased you were not hurt. Randy found the survey crew and he says they are making progress on our north line. They asked for a list of food items since there are no stores. He said we would send it with the next guy who checks on them. They will be fine according to him.”

  “That’s good.”

  “We will handle it,” Carter said.

  “Your post cutters coming?”

  “They will be here in a week. I have saws and axes coming, too. We have enough tents and cookware. And I selected a ranch butcher and two helpers. Between our headquarter crew, the post cutters, and eventually the fence crew we will need someone to deal with getting them meat.”

  “Sounds good. Oh, and Ira said he had some cowboys who would make squaw boots for our people.”

  “I bet they would. That is great news.”

  Things settled in. Both Boone and Rob sent him a short letter that they reached the Indian Territory. Things were going smoothly so far.

  Infrequently, he and Jan attended the Methodist church in Junction. They drove in on Saturday afternoon, ate supper at the hotel, slept overnight, attended services, and drove home after a lunch on the grounds of the church.

  Quietly, he paid to have the parsonage reroofed and set up what Reverend Clark called the “widow’s fund.”

  Jan laughed at how they were like the German farm families who traveled every weekend from their small town homes in Mason to attend Lutheran services. He agreed.

  “Going home and seeing those bluebells starting to bloom, it is sure peaceful,” he said, making the horses on the buckboard move a little faster.

  “Did you ever think that there was a special plan for you to go see the Rockies?”

  He nodded. “And how I just happened to be in that area up by Waco and found your loose horse.”

  She arched her back and nodded. “One night about dark you found a horse.”

  “An hour shift in my time and I would not have found you.”

  “Exactly. I guess fate sent me”—she hugged his arm—“and I am grateful. I spent my early life feeling left out, and look how it turned out.”

  “If you don’t want that big house maybe the church would want it for homeless children or a school.”

  “That would be fine with me.”

  “Then we will try to do that, and then we’ll go to San Antonio and find plans to suit you for your house.”

  “That isn’t being too bitchy?”

  “No. I am so proud of you. What you do for the ranch and me. I could not have found a better mate.”

  “Good. When you can go, I will have my bags packed.”

  He laughed. “We will do it when the men get back, or if I see a break, to run down there. Maybe you can draw something you like and we’d have that to show the architect.”

  “I can do that. Good idea. There are many times, here in Texas, where we can entertain outside on a covered patio so if it rains, it doesn’t ruin the fun. And I’d like a breeze through the house in the evening. Oh, and the white limestone can be quarried from on the place, can’t it? And thick cedar shingles on the overhanging roof. And some fireplaces in some of the rooms to warm the house.”

  He laughed at all her plans, agreed, and told her, “We’ll put a windmill up that will put water in the attic, and the pressure at the faucet will give us running water for baths, showers, and toilets. They even have water heaters in the attic that can send hot water down to tubs, showers, and sinks. We can afford it all.”

  “Good. I want it.”

  “We’ll get it. As for the ranch, when we get the survey complete and a perimeter fence up, we will cross-fence and need more windmills. We’ll develop more springs and dam some creeks that will give us more water in the dry years. I want several hundred acres of hay meadows to put up for dry times and hard winters.”

  “I thought people just turned cows out. They would find grass and then the ranchers would go find them when they were ready to sell.”

  “That was the old way. Now you have to plan more, and do more, and those people will make more money.”

  “And my cowboy husband born in Arkansas, who moved to Texas, is going to build me a real ranch house?”

  “Trust me. I will get it done.”

  “I know. It’s all part of this storybook life we lead. Money, ranches, cattle drives. We are one large business.”

  He hugged and kissed her. “Not bad for two kids.”

  “I bet you were grown up a long time ago. A lot more than most kids.”

  “My father’s Irish dedication to get kidnapped children back from the Comanche was strong. We never talked about the Comanche we killed. Dad said don’t count them. It would weigh on your mind. Count the children we brought home. We freed them from a slave life among heathens.”

  They hugged and held each other tightly in the dark office.

  Jan said, “We better get to supper. They hold their breath for us to be there.”

  “I’m ready. I get flashes of those two men of mine on the trail and hope they aren’t in trouble up there,” he said as they went on to supper.

  In the hall they were joined by a cowboy and Carter.

  Harry White told them he’d checked on the surveyors and they were headed south. He said he couldn’t believe the ranch went that far west.

  “Long, that Rocking H headquarters may be on our ranch.”

  “We met them. I
hope not. I don’t want to upset them. They are hardworking people when I was out there one time. Surely our ranch land doesn’t go that far?”

  “Hopefully you are here, but if you are gone and we do take in their operation, we will assure them we will adjust the border so it doesn’t harm him.”

  “Correct. Keep an eye on it if I get busy.”

  “I will. With all this land we can be generous, right?”

  “Exactly, Carter. And we will be if it happens. Soon, I need about seven days to go to San Antonio and find Jan an architect, have him make some plans for a house from her drawings, then come back. We would like to donate that mansion to a church for a school or orphanage.”

  “I bet one of the churches would take it.”

  Long nodded. “I hope so. I knew she didn’t like it.”

  They sat down and Carter told the girl he was only sitting there and wasn’t eating.

  He turned back to Long and Jan. “Hey I heard there is a guy who did well drilling, Lance Grey. Had two setups and was working seven a day. I understand his partner Ted Hanson crawled into bed with Grey’s wife, then convinced her to run off with him. They took the company strong box and left the country. Lance fell off the wagon over it and has been dead drunk ever since he learned she was gone. Your banker had to take both rigs to protect his loan on them.”

  “Men do that. It is easier to be drunk than face reality.”

  “What can we do?”

  “I can go see my banker, find out what he owes on them, and then, maybe, try and sober him up.”

  “You ever did that?”

  “My father saved a man in Arkansas who was a drunk. It was not nice. But he never took another drink. I think it is why Harp and I don’t drink. Dad tied him up in our barn, and we had to hold our hands over our ears because of his screaming. But when he dried out he went home and minded his own business. And he later cried when we moved to Texas.”

  “Boy, I’ve heard about folks doing that.”

  “Get me two hands and we will run into town in the morning and see what we can do about a drunk with two well drilling rigs.”

  Ira, Collie, and Carter rode with Long to town. Jan stayed home because she had sewing plans. They arrived mid-morning at the bank and Lawrence met him in the lobby. They stepped to the side and Long asked him about the rigs.