Brothers in Blood

by Dusty Richards

  “She was a fun lady,” JD said. “Most of those Mexican men are a foot shorter than she is. I think that’s why she likes you so much.”

  They were laughing and in high spirits when they met the sleepy-eyed Cole upstairs.

  “You boys go to another party?” he asked.

  “Yes, and we had fun, too,” Jesus said.

  “No trouble?”

  “No. But Mrs. Carmichael is concerned they may want revenge.”

  “Does she know anything for sure?”

  Chet shook his head. “But she damn sure knows these people we’ve dealt with.”

  “You got a gun for JD?” Cole asked.

  “He’ll have one in the morning. I plan to buy him a new one. We’ll catch the stage at one o’clock tomorrow.”

  “Whew. I’m sure ready to go home.”

  “So are all of us.” Chet included himself as well. He simply dreaded the trip back and the days of weary travel ahead.

  By nine o’clock in the morning, they stood in the county courthouse lobby. The clerk accepted the note and went to get the cash. An air of tension filled the near empty building and made the hair on Chet’s neck rise.

  While they waited, he thought about how the Santa Fe lawyer congratulated him by telegram on JD’s release. He hadn’t left Santa Fe before he got the telegram, but the lawyer would still cost him.

  The clerk returned with the money and counted the cash out to Chet at the window. “Anything else, señor?”

  “No, thanks.” He put the money, mostly fives and tens, quite a wad of bills, in a cloth bag.

  He handed it to JD “Here’s your new start in life.”

  JD unbuttoned his shirt and dropped the bag inside. “I owe you for a gun and ammo.”

  “No. That’s a gift from me.”

  “Thanks.”

  During their walk to the stage office, the skin crawled on the back of Chet’s neck. This might be the last chance for the sheriff’s men to jump them—if they had the nerve. They might think before tackling four experienced men with handguns on an open sunny street.

  A cold wind made small puffs of dust sweep across the hard-packed surface. Nothing but a slinking black dog crossed the street, eyeing them with his fang teeth showing. The mangy thing needed shot, but that wasn’t Chet’s job. Maybe that’s what needed to be done. One shot to start a barrage of them.

  There was heat in the stage office’s stove, and Chet warmed his cold hands at the hot iron’s radiant heat.

  “You four going to Mesilla?” asked the clerk under the visor.

  “We have tickets. Anything wrong?”

  “No, señor. I was not here when you bought them. I only asked to see if you had them.”

  “We do. Thanks.”

  Cole turned from the window. “There’s three men on horseback leaving town, headed south. Do they look like the two you saw the other night?”

  The window Chet looked out of was dirty and he only saw their backs. “Can’t tell if they were.”

  Jesus didn’t get to see them at all. “Our stage leaves at one?” he asked.

  Chet nodded and sat down. “You and Cole go buy us some fresh burritos for lunch. We have time to eat before the stage pulls out.”

  “Good, then we can eat in Mesilla,” JD said. “They have lots of good food down there.”

  The two left and returned in a short while with burritos from a street vendor. During their absence, Chet hadn’t seen anything suspicious—maybe they would finally get away from this place without an incident and head for home.

  They ate their lunch in the stage office. When they finished, Jesus filled a canteen at the city well across the street and they washed their meal down with it. He refilled it later to drink on the way since some stopovers only had gypsum-water.

  They loaded their gear into the back of the coach and covered it with a tarp. Since the coach carried a large load of freight, it was a tight fit. At last, they climbed on the stage and it rolled out of Socorro. Chet knew he wouldn’t miss the sleepy town. His guts still crawled when he thought of the arm of the crooked law that operated there. He’d slapped that local ring in the face. They might not be through with him yet.

  CHAPTER 4

  The rocking of the stage almost had Chet lulled to sleep, when he heard the pop of gunshots.

  “Banditos! Banditos!” the driver shouted and urged his horses to run faster.

  Everyone in the coach did some searching of each other’s face. Cole stuck his head out, then drew it back in. Gun in hand, he said, “Looks like there are three of them. They’re masked. Hold your fire until they get close enough to shoot them,” he told the others.

  After a little distance, the driver reined in the horses, locked the brake, and shouted, “We give up.”

  “Throw your guns out, gringos.”

  “Who in hell knows there’s gringos in here?” Cole asked.

  “They do,” Chet said.

  A bullet crashed into the side of the coach, splintering slivers of wood on them. By some miracle, no one was hit. From the side windows, the robbers couldn’t be seen. They stayed behind the coach, not taking any chances until the passengers unloaded.

  “Get out here or die!”

  At once, more of their bullets struck the freight in the back. A couple of shots ricocheted off the coach with a sharp whine. A few more holes in the coach showered them with dust and splinters. Damn, the three masked men held a position behind the stage where they couldn’t shoot at them without sticking their heads out the windows.

  At last, the robbers’ guns clicked on empty.

  “Now.” Chet opened his door to lean out and began shooting at the one on that side. JD and Cole were slinging lead out the other way.

  In no time, JD was out of the coach with his reloaded pistol and took three more shots.

  Quarters inside the stagecoach were too tight for both Chet and Jesus to fire at the same time. Jesus resolved that by taking Chet’s empty pistol and giving him his. “I’ll reload yours,” he said.

  Three masked men lay on the ground. One raised his pistol to take aim and both Chet and JD shot him in the face. Then, when they reached the outlaws, they had to shoot two of their injured horses.

  “The driver’s been shot,” Cole said from where he stood on the front wheel. “Help me get him down.”

  Jesus traded Chet his pistol for his own and ran over to assist in getting the man eased to the ground.

  Chet knelt by the first man they’d finished off and pulled the flour sack mask off. His bloody face wasn’t familiar. When he rolled the next limp body over, he thought he knew the big man. When he jerked off the mask, he right away recognized the main deputy, Diego. Barely alive, Diego cussed at him from behind clamped teeth.

  “You better be praying, brother. There won’t be any last rites said for you out here today.”

  JD scowled at the first one. “That other guy we shot is a deputy, too. His name is Balleras.”

  Chet bent over and pulled the mask off number three.

  “They call him Ajo.”

  “Jesus, put the masks back on them. I want them found in their costumes. And find their badges and pin them on, so they will be easily identified.”

  “How bad is the driver shot?” Chet asked, looking back at the stage. The driver had set the brakes and tied off the reins, so the coach and horses stood waiting for them to go on.

  “He’s bleeding bad,” said JD, knelt beside him.

  Chet rose and went to see what he could do for the driver.

  JD said, “He’s shot in the shoulder. He may make it to Mesilla.”

  “You and Cole can handle driving the stage on to Mesilla. Jesus and I will try to make him comfortable and stop the bleeding.”

  “We can damn sure do that,” Cole agreed.

  “Load him up.”

  “One more thing. When we get to Mesilla,” Chet said, “I’m buying three more .44s and cartridges to go with them. JD had his reloaded before a lamb could shake
his tail.”

  They all nodded, acting impressed with his nephew’s new firearm.

  “What about the outlaws?” Jesus asked.

  “We can wire their boss where to find them. We’ve got to get this driver to a doctor.”

  “Damn right,” JD said. “I evened the damn score here tonight, men. That damned Diego took away my owner papers on the horses the night they arrested me. I’ve been kicked around and beat up by them three bastards. They sure deserved what they got.”

  With the wounded driver inside the coach, JD and Cole climbed on top. They headed south with a shout and the crack of a whip. Jesus bandaged the wounded man’s shoulder with what they had to work with. The driver was Mexican and damned sure made of tough stuff.

  They’d be asked lots of questions at each of the stage stops. No matter, as long as they got out of New Mexico Territory before someone tried to arrest them for the killing of those three. He could get into the damnedest situations, when all he wanted to do was get home.

  Marge, I am coming home quick as I can. You and that baby keep doing fine.

  CHAPTER 5

  Throughout the night they changed fresh horses at the various stage stops. Everyone on the route knew the driver and was concerned for him to make it. Chet bought a bottle of whiskey for the driver who was in great pain, but not complaining.

  The stage operators were all shocked about him being shot, because he was well liked by them. They quickly changed the horses, and at most of the stopovers they served fresh hot coffee to the four tired men before they went on. Noontime the next day they reached Mesilla and, when word of the robbery spread, the town turned out.

  Jesus and JD named the three robbers as lawmen turned outlaws. Chet knew that information would set the tone when the newspapers printed it. As soon as the exhausted men could get away from the curious crowd, they ate a big meal furnished by a grateful local restaurant owner. Then they checked into a hotel and slept twelve hours.

  Right after breakfast, they went west by train to Deming. A stage took them to Lordsburg, then into Arizona, and on to Tucson. Papago Wells, the next stop, set on a crossroads that forked to Yuma and San Diego, or on north to Hayden’s Ferry and then Preskitt. But it all took time, seated on the leather-covered horsehair-stuffed seats in the dust-filled, rocking stagecoach. Jesus, Cole, and JD took turns sitting on top the coach with the driver.

  Chet was sure of one thing. He needed to take a great long bath when he got home. There were parts of New Mexico and Arizona dirt blocking every pore of his body. His hair was so dirty it would stand straight up. The weather was still warm, but everything was dry, and dust swept over them with every breath of strong wind. When they crossed the Salt River on the ferry past Hayden’s Mill during the night, he knew in twelve to fourteen hours they’d be in Preskitt.

  He was ready. He’d wired Marge their arrival time, so she would meet them or send buckboards. He intended to soak in a hot tub of water until the cows came home, then hug his wife for hours, just to savor her closeness. Bone tired, he was ready to stay home as long as he could.

  When they started north, he wrapped in a blanket, because he knew as the elevation increased, so would the temperature drop. But it would be great to be back there.

  They arrived close to sunup to find bonfires across the street from the stage office and scads of folks there to welcome him and his boys back. Marge tackled him from one side, and Susie the other.

  “You made it, and you got him freed.”

  He kissed his wife hard. Susie was hugging JD. Tom and Millie were there, and even Hampt and May got involved in the hugging. Jenn and her girls were on hand to congratulate him, and his banker, Mr. Tanner, was there to shake his hand. Everyone showing up for the homecoming impressed Chet. He accepted a steaming cup of coffee with gratitude. It felt so damn good to have his boot soles on solid ground and out of that swaying coach.

  The banker grinned from ear to ear. “I have good news for you, Chet. The government will pay for the first two or three deliveries in a few weeks.”

  “Damn, Tanner, that will be great.”

  “I told you they always pay—sooner, or later.”

  They both laughed.

  Tanner turned serious. “This was a serious matter you’ve been through, getting that boy out of jail.”

  “We were lucky. But he’s a free man with no record.”

  At a touch on his shoulder, Chet turned to see Leroy Sipes, the man he’d rescued in Utah, and his wife Betty Lou, there to greet him. With them was Kathrin Arnold, the woman he’d brought back from Utah on that same trip.

  She smiled up at him. “I knew when I heard about this that you’d succeed. JD’s like me, very lucky you came along.”

  “How is your life these days?”

  “I’ll be fine. A divorced woman’s path is not a great place to walk, but it will work out. And I’m grateful to you for getting me out of there. I saw no way to escape.”

  “You’ll do fine, and I wish you all the happiness.”

  Marge returned to take his hand and lead him away to meet other folks. Quietly, she asked, “Is JD all right?”

  “He acts like himself again. I am, too, now that I’m back here. Damned long, tense, trip. I need a shave, a bath, and a night or two with you. How are you feeling?”

  “Great, but I think the baby will be here sooner than I counted.”

  “Fine, I’m ready.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Chet rose before daybreak and left his wife sleeping. Dressing quietly, he slipped downstairs. The light was on in the kitchen and the big fireplace in the living room was blazing. It was even warmer in the kitchen.

  Monica, in a fresh apron, smiled at his appearance. “Well, you never set out on a mission and not come home the hero.”

  “Oh, I don’t win them all.”

  “You sure do all the ones I see you go after.” She handed him a cup. “Have some coffee. How was the trip?”

  “Well, JD is back. His reputation is restored and he’s free again. Socorro is very Spanish, of course. The Chinese had fireworks on New Year’s Eve. We went to a large fandango. Argued with the law, and I worried them enough they let him go.”

  “Your wife has behaved herself well. And, of course, worried about your welfare way off over there.”

  He took a sip of the hot coffee. Sure tasted good. “Has Susie been by?”

  “She’s fine. Excited about her condition, of course. You are going to have lots of diapers around you. She’s been concerned about you, too. I have to console all these women when you are gone.”

  “Good about the babies. We need replacements.”

  “Deputy Roamer came by. Marge was gone to town. I think he had something on his mind, but he left no message—said he just stopped to talk to you.”

  “I’ll check with him,” Chet said. “The rest of the ranches all right as far as you know?”

  “Seems to be.” She put a plate of scrambled eggs, fried bacon, biscuits, and gravy before him. “Is that enough?”

  “Just fine.”

  After breakfast, when daylight arrived, he joined Raphael, the foreman for the ranch on top, and his men. He’d dressed warm for the cold.

  “I am so glad you made it back all right, señor, and that the boy is free.”

  “Thanks. We all are happy about it.”

  All Raphael’s men were vaqueros. They were top of the line cattle handlers, but this morning they were unloading two wagons piled high with split firewood at the bunkhouse and main house.

  They’d never run out of firewood up there. They had plenty, but it was better to be ready than without. Later, they’d have to feed the cattle hay. They were up and bawling already, but there was plenty of hay stacked up there to get them through the winter, too.

  Cole and Jesus joined him and asked what the plans were for the day.

  “After Marge gets up, I’ll go into town. That may be a couple of hours.”

  “Fine. After we help unload this wood,
we’ll be at the bunkhouse,” Cole said, and Jesus nodded in agreement.

  Those two were good to find work while waiting on him; nothing lazy about them. Back in the house, his wife was up and in the kitchen with Monica.

  “How’s things?” he asked, joining her at the table.

  “Oh, fine as I can be and the baby is, too. Here’s a letter from Lucie.” She read:

  “Dear Folks, Things are fine up here on the mountain. My husband is running off elk every day. They fight the cattle for hay now that they’ve discovered we have it on hand. They also eat very good, of course. Not much is happening. The workers plan to have all buildings here completed, inside and out, in a month. Then they’ll move to the Windmill. I know Susie is anxious, too. More maverick cattle are also coming in to the feed. We have added over a hundred and fifty head more since we started haying. I am shocked how many cattle strayed from passing herds. We sure didn’t ever have that many head on the loose over west of Hackberry. At this rate, the place will be stocked by spring.

  “Is Chet back from New Mexico yet? We are anxious to hear all about his trip and JD. Love, Lucie and Reg”

  “You going to answer her?” he asked his wife.

  “Yes, but you can put in a page about New Mexico. I am just so pleased to have you home.”

  “I’m going to town. You want to go along?”

  “Nice to be asked, but I went yesterday and my back still aches.”

  “I’m sorry. You all right, otherwise?”

  “Oh, yes. And other than that, I feel wonderful. But I do have some aches and pains in this cold weather. I guess I’m a baby at times about my aches.”

  “No, no. You have every right to be that way.”

  “JD went to the Verde with your sister last night.”

  “I thought he would.”

  “Does he have any plans?”

  “Darling, he’s pretty withdrawn right now, because of what he’s been through. You have to pry words out of him. I hope he finds himself. He may join his brother. They used to be real close.”

  “I hope he’s learned a lesson. That was some trouble of his for you to have to resolve.”