Spirit Valley (Ben Blue Book 7)

by Lou Bradshaw

  I asked Nelson if there had been any progress in finding the other stolen horses. He told me Glenn Battles had offered a hundred dollar reward for the return of his Thoroughbreds. Everything I’d heard about the breed told me, a hundred dollars wouldn’t get them back.

  “From what I’ve seen of Battles,” Nelson said, “I’d have to see more than his description of those critters before I’d ever believe they existed. It seems that no one on the plateau has ever seen either one of them.”

  “You suppose he might be prone to stretchin’ things a little?” I asked.

  “Well, I can’t say I’ve caught him at it, but he strikes me as a flim flam artist… Likes to blow his own bugle… But I ain’t got any proof of that, so I’ll just give him the benefit of the doubt.”

  “Next time I get up that way,” I told him, “I may make it a point to pay him a visit.”

  “Just don’t ask me to go with you.”

  Changing the subject I said, “They’ve lost half their crew, there’s a better than even chance they’ll cut their losses and move on. My Mexican neighbors have made it next to impossible to drive a bunch of horses up that sheep trail… especially at night. And in the daylight, they’d raise too much dust.”

  “Ben, you’re just a goll danged optimist… I’d think you’d have seen enough of them on the other side of the law to think they got enough sense to pull out before they get what they want or get hung.”

  “I suppose you’re right Nels, You’d think I’d know better, but a fella can always hope.”

  Chapter 5

  That night, after the youngins were tucked in, Sam, Patty Anne and I sat in the parlor discussing this and that, when Sam brought up the horse raiders. I told them what I’d told the sheriff.

  “Why Ben forever Blue, you know those men aren’t going to give up that easy.” Patty Anne said as she pinned me with one of her stares. “They’re out right now looking for more men. Whoever the boss of that outfit is, he’s done some planning and scouting. He knows where the best horses are and what to do with them. He’s probably got money invested in this project… He’s not going to just let it go… You big red headed cluck.”

  I looked at Sam for support, but he chose that moment to find something extremely interesting up in the ceiling beams. I didn’t expect too much help from him… He’d raised her and knew better than to argue. I knew better, but I never seemed to have the good sense to stop myself.

  So like the cluck that I was, I lowered my horns and charged in with, “Well, Miss Knows Everything, just what would you suggest I do… if you don’t mind my asking?” I heard Sam groan mournfully.

  Patty Anne stood up, smoothed her skirts, and carried her cup and saucer over to the mantle, where she took a sip of coffee and set them down. She turned to face me. Sam was still examining the ceiling so he wasn’t being addressed. I felt pretty much like a bug on a pin. She stood there with her hands clasped in front of her and looked at the floor, and then she raised her head, and I knew goose was well done.

  “First of all, you can make that Misses Knows Everything. Secondly, if I was a big redheaded successful rancher with valuable livestock I wanted to protect, I’d put out the word that there were empty bunks on the MB connected. Then I’d let the word slip out that the cook was one of the finest north of Santa Fe… but the deal maker would be letting it out that the Mistress of Casa del Blu makes donuts at least once a month.”

  “When those cowboys start beating down the kitchen door, I’d pick out three or four who have been known to spend a night or two in the town jail due to a payday hooraw. Your trouble, Ben Blue, is you think more of the safety of your men than you do of your own welfare. When it comes to things that affect the ranch, the men who work there feel it’s their duty and their right to lend a hand… I’d bet that if Charlie Clark at the Esses were to say, ‘Boys, those knot heads at the double D called old Sam Stellars, our boss, An Egg Suckin’ Mule.’ There’d be eight or nine of them over there wrecking the DD bunkhouse and creatin’ some lumps on those DD noggins.”

  “Ben, you’ve got one of the largest spreads in Taos County, and at the same time, you’ve got the fewest hands. You need at least four more good men… men who will be willing to stand up for the brand. And that covers most of the men who make their living with a rope and a saddle.”

  “In a very few years, you’ve made yourself a very good and knowledgeable cattleman.” I opened my mouth to thank her and she said, “I’m not finished… There’s a ‘but’ attached… But, your education is still lacking. More than a few of the successful ranchers in the west started by herding someone else’s cows, living in a bunkhouse, and making close friends. Others were born to it. You did it with pure sweat, determination, some brains, some luck… and a darned good woman. But you never had that cowboy experience of working for a ranch… a brand… your home… your family. Those few men out there in the bunkhouse would bleed or spill blood for the MB whether they liked or hated you… Am I right or wrong, Grampa?”

  Sam nodded and made some sound of agreement without getting in the middle of it. There were about a thousand places Sam would rather have been at that time. I knew there were at least that many places I’d have rather been.

  “Lastly, since you won’t be able to get a straight answer from my grandfather because he knows better than to cross me. And Charlie Clark has to face my best friend, Linda if he crosses me. What you need to do is find an independent expert like Juan Domingo, and get his opinion.”

  As I sat there like a “cluck”, I couldn’t help but think she was probably right… not that I was going to tell her so. I stood up when she curtsied, gave her my arm, and escorted her to her chair.

  But I did plan to go have a talk with Juan Domingo. Juan had worked as a vaquero for Don Carlos down in Santa Fe. In fact his family had come to Mexico and from there to New Mexico with Don Carlos. The Domingo family had been with the Vasquez family for many generations back in Spain.

  I felt it would be worth a ride up there, if for no other reason to get his opinion on what we can expect from the horse thieves… And while I’m there, I might bring up the question of adding to my payroll.

  I made a mental note that it was Enrique and Pablo who had gone searching for the missing mares and not Juan. But Enrique was Juan’s segundo or foreman, and his job was to oversee the day to day operations of the rancho. The MB didn’t have a foreman; it barely had a three man crew. Until the past week there had been no need for any more men except for extra hands during roundup. That had been the beauty of the operation. In an enclosed valley, three or four men could take care of a good sized herd. But Delgado spent most of his time with the horses, so that left only two men and myself to watch over three or four thousand head…. maybe a few more men would be a good idea.

  I’d made a considerable investment in those whiteface cattle and then went back for two more bulls, so now all the young stuff was showing signs of having the mix. The pure whiteface calves were being kept for breeding stock. The older whiteface steers were being shipped along with the mixed and the longhorns. It was a good plan, and it was working. The MB had been fortunate in that there it was isolated from the rest of the plateau, so the chances of diseases spreading into the valley were slim.

  The biggest threats we had were cougars and wolves. Oh one of the boys would have to pull a steer or a calf out of a water hole every now and then, but that’s to be expected. I’d been pretty casual about range management, and I’d been lucky. When I first came into the valley with a few hundred cattle, I just turned them loose and didn’t bother them. As the herd grew, I let the cattle take care of themselves until it was time for roundup.

  When I thought of the MB connected, I thought of it as being a horse ranch, but it was much more than that. Detailed breeding records were kept for all of Prince’s activities and will be kept on the young stallion, whose dam was a blooded Arab mare.

  I could tell by the rapidly changing color and shape of the calves that
my plan to breed out the longhorns and run only Herfords was taking shape. Keeping a few young whiteface bulls and bringing in some from the outside, allowed me to get rid of the remaining longhorn bulls. But beyond that, I hadn’t done much as far as managing the herd. I’d learned a lot from Sam Stellars, Patty Anne’s grandfather and from Charlie Clark, Sam’s Ranch Manager. But they were mostly interested in keeping things running smoothly. The Esses range was limited and there was no room for growth.

  Juan Domingo, on the other hand had been steadily growing. Through the years, he had increased his holdings by buying ranch property from a few who hadn’t made a go of things. Along with the ranches came the open range and water that came with the property. Juan had taken small steps and made wise choices… and he was a good friend.

  Chapter 6

  I was sitting in Juan Domingo’s courtyard by mid morning the next day. I didn’t admit to Patty Anne that I was taking her advice; instead I said I was just going over to visit with my friend Juan. She showed a little smirkey smile, but I was sure she didn’t suspect me paying attention to what she had said.

  Juan confirmed everything that Patty Anne told me the night before, which came as no real surprise. He agreed that I should have more hands, if for no other reason than to keep a better eye on my stock. He also suggested that I bunch my cattle in herds, and then move them to fresh grass when needed. There was water on nearly all sections of the range, and steer wouldn’t walk off weight going for water. It also meant that the men could get to know the individuals and know when one or more was missing.

  He didn’t think the horse thieves had given up. In his opinion, the thieves were well organized and had someone in charge. They had scouted his horses and knew their habits, so all they had to do was to wait for them to show up at a particular water hole.

  “They know what to do, Benito. Perhaps they have been wild horse hunters, or they have worked with fine horses… some may have even had horse ranches… I don’t know, but someone knows something about good horses and their values… I have brought those mares in close where we can keep a better eye on them.”

  “Now, Benito, I have some great news.” He said as a wide grin spread across his face. “Don Carlos has agreed to be guest of honor at the Fourth of July celebration in Taos. The county council sent him an invitation, saying it was their desire to bring the two groups closer together. There will be a parade, and he and Dona Elena will lead it. The Spanish speaking citizens are all excited.”

  “That’s wonderful.” I told him. “I hadn’t heard anything about it… I guess I should pay more attention to what’s going on. Seems like I get so wrapped up in my own affairs that I just don’t seem to know about anything outside my own gate… In fact I hadn’t even heard of this Battles fella… Glenn Battles, I believe is the name… him being a horse breeder and all… With thoroughbreds no less.”

  Juan rolled his eyes and said, “If he has any thoroughbreds on his place, he has been very selective of those who he show’s them to.”

  “I’d gotten that impression from someone else… You think those horses are all in his imagination?” Juan merely shrugged and wouldn’t comment.

  “Maybe I’ll take a ride over that way in the next few days, and say howdy to Mister Battles. Maybe he’ll show me what a thoroughbred looks like.” I said, even though I knew Battles thoroughbreds were supposed to be missing.

  Leaving the Domingo rancho, I decided to get the ball rolling and took a side trip into Taos. My first stop was the Silver Dollar Saloon, where I posted a notice next to the batwings that the MB connected was hiring four good men willing to work hard. I also stated that Maria Sanchez was an excellent cook.

  I went inside and told the room, “Fellas, I’m in the mood to add four hard riding, hard working, and hard living ranch hands. Anybody interested can come out to the MB and talk to me. You’ll be dealing with the finest horses, some pretty fine cattle, and a cook who is a legend in Taos County. If you’re not lookin’ and have a friend who is… send them out to see me.”

  “You hirin’ guns or ropes?” Came a question from the back of the room.

  “The MB runs some of the finest horseflesh north of Santa Fe… I would expect any man working there to do what was needed to protect the stock. Anyone who doesn’t feel that way need not apply.”

  “Sounds like you’re hirin’ guns.”

  “Any man who rides for me should have one and know how to use it. If he doesn’t have one, I’ll loan him one and supply the ammunition. But his job will be the same as any cowhand on the plateau… no more… no less. I don’t expect any rider on my range to do anything I wouldn’t do or haven’t done.”

  “That’s easy to say, but I doubt if you can follow it up.”

  I spotted the big mouth sitting at a card table playing poker with Clarence McCoy and two other men. Clarence tossed in his hand and was scooping up his money as I started walking toward them… Clarence knew when to cut his losses and to get out of the game.

  The speaker slid out of his chair and took a gunfighter’s stance with feet spread and his right hand hovering over his six-gun. He knew what he was doing. He had baited me into a gunfight. He had questioned my honor.

  “Mister,” I said as I walked through the tables, “I believe you just called me a liar.” I kept walking in.

  By then he was grinning and eager for me to stop and make my move. I didn’t stop, and I had no intentions of stopping until I had him backed up to the wall. Chairs were scraping the floor and men were getting out of the way… I was closing fast and steady. He took a step back and then another and another. The grin was gone and his eyes showed a little concern.

  He may have pulled the same stunt before in other saloons. Since he was still alive, I’d say he had been successful before. But by walking in on him, I’d put him in a defensive position. If he pulled that gun at this close range, he would surely take lead. He was backing and I was keeping pace only a few feet away and pressing.

  As he hit the wall behind him, his instinct was to use both hands to ward me off. I took a firm grip on his right hand and started squeezing. His move was to try and keep his hand from being broken by trying to break my grip with his left hand.

  While he was concentrating on my grip, I said to him, “Mister, if I was hiring guns, you’d be the last one I’d hire… because you’re too stupid to be any good at it.”

  His head swung up to refute my estimate of his intelligence. That’s when my right fist smashed his lips and took out two of his front teeth. I was getting ready to send him to dreamland when someone yelled, “Ben!” I heard chairs scraping and feet shuffling behind me, and then I heard hammers being drawn back on a number of six-guns. By then, I had a grip on that fella’s collar and was swinging him around between me and table.

  The two other gents at the table were in mid-draw, and there were at least a half dozen Colts aimed in their direction. Those boys at the table seemed to have lost their spirit for a gunplay. They carefully shoved their weapons back into their holsters… all the time making sure nobody had reason to think they were doing anything else.

  “Clarence,” I called out, “Any of these boys kin to you, or are you willin’ to vouch for them?”

  “Nope.” I heard Clarence call back from somewhere in the crowd “I’s just playin’ a little poker when that one started shootin’ off his big mouth… far’s I care you can shoot ‘em, hang ‘em, run ‘em out of town, or you can just bust ‘em up… whatever makes you feel better.”

  I tightened my grip on the big mouth’s collar and I gave it a little twist till his eyes were starting to bulge a little. I told the other two to march to the front door and keep on marching until they were on their horses. I reached over and took bloody face’s gun from his holster and stuck it behind my waist band.

  “You’ve shown yourself to be too stupid to pack a gun… and I don’t think you’ve learned anything today. So I’m just going to be a good citizen and maybe save a life. Not that I give a
damn about your life, but you’re bound to hurt someone sooner or later…and we can’t have that. Now if you can show me that you’re a changed man, then you look me up and I’ll be happy to return in to you.”

  He stumbled when I shoved him through the batwings and lay sprawled on the boardwalk for a few seconds before he got to his feet and climbed into the saddle. As they turned their horses and headed down the street, the one who wouldn’t be chewing any tough beef for a while turned and gave me a look that would cause paint to peel.

  “Friend of yours, Ben?”

  “Not so’s you’d notice.” I replied as I turned around to see Paul Cravins standing at the saloon doors.

  “No, Paul, I can’t claim him as a friend… He’s just some would be gunny who tried to provoke me into a gunfight. I didn’t bite.”

  “From the looks of his mouth…It don’t look like he’ll be biting on much of anything for a few days… Come on in I’ll treat you to a drink.”

  We walked in and went to the bar, where I ordered another beer and Cravins asked for rye. “Ben,” he said, “I was planning on riding out to see you soon, but it seems like you saved me a trip.”

  “Happy to oblige, Paul, what’s on your mind?”

  “The County Council has invited Don Carlos Vasquez to be guest of honor at the big celebration on Independence Day. Since I’m the head of the celebration committee, I’m charged with making all the arrangements… I understand you are a personal friend of the Don, and we’d appreciate it if you’d be the one to introduce him to the crowd and welcome him to Taos.”