A Good Day To Kill (31 page)

Sitting on his horse, with the men he most trusted and liked, he wondered if they would eventually see, through their cross-breeding to the British cattle, those breeds as the adapted one in the future. He had his doubts about the Diablo Ranch down south, but in the mountains he felt sure Herefords and Shorthorns would be the answer.

“Our first plan is to gather and brand two hundred cows for Reg. Then get them up there. Leave the ones we think are culls here. Reg don't need them to drive back to Windmill or here.”

“We don't have a hand that don't know the real culls,” Tom said.

Raphael agreed.

So did Hampt. “We won't send that boy one cull. We're all one on this outfit. Right, Raphael?”

“Ah,
si
. We are family, no?”

“Damn right. But we better run them hands off this place tomorrow,” Hampt said.

Chet quickly agreed. “I'll be at your place early, Hampt, with Cole and Jesus. After we send the crew packing, I'll leave Jesus and Cole in charge of it and we can start. Tom, you can send Spud and the boys you chose to help us.”

“No problem. You just be careful running them off.”

“I'll be ready to ride over there in the morning.” Hampt shook his hand. “I can't say fixing that place up will be easy, but if it will rain a little, you won't know it in a few years.”

“Hey, we're counting on that—and you.”

That settled, they rode back to the Preskitt Valley outfit and lunch—Hampt went back to his own house on the nearby place. Tom rode back to the Verde Ranch.

By noontime, he had Jesus and Cole ready to go into Preskitt and get enough supplies to feed the crew going to work at the new ranch. Chet told them to figure on feeding at least fifteen men. “We're going over tomorrow morning and fire his crew. So get all the cooking things you'll need. I have no idea what's over there. Put the tarp on the wagon bows. We plan to haul it up there, going the back way up through Chino Valley and across to Reg's. You two can join us and help.”

“Sure thing. How many will there be?” Jesus asked.

“As many as fifteen. We need to work the cattle and move them up there before it snows.”

Cole smiled. “That could be any day.”

“That's why I'm putting so much emphasis on getting it done. Oh, get some tents, too. We may need them.”

“I had that in mind,” Jesus said with a grin.

“Anything else?”

“We'll make a list, get everything today, and be ready in the morning to drive over there.” Jesus glanced at Cole.

“Right, boss man. We should be there in time to cook lunch,” said Cole.

Cole and Jesus soon left for town and Chet watched Marge making some jumps on her big bay. Then, seeing how happy she was riding again, he went on to make a list of things he'd need to do. Get the state brand inspector over there while they branded, or get his approval. Learn what they must do for holding corrals, and the buildings' condition.

How many cattle needed to be culled? He knew they had some crossbred bulls. Tight as the purebreds were to get, he'd maybe have to put up with them for one more breeding season.

Roamer must have things well in hand down south. No wires, but they might come anytime in the law business. In the house, he took off the heavy coat he'd worn and went to his desk in the office to work.

Monica offered him some fresh coffee that he readily agreed to, and the young nanny, Rhea, brought baby Adam by for him to hold and rock.

“He is such a good baby, señor.”

“Thanks, you do a good job with him. Rhea, you talk it over with Marge, but I want him to be bilingual when he grows up.”

“Oh, yes, I will. And, thank you, I love this job and working here so much.”

“We love having you. Here's the boss man. Thanks for coming by.”

“
Gracias.
” She curtsied and took Adam back, talking softly to the smiling boy in the blankets.

He went back to dipping his straight pen in the ink and writing out things to be done. Back home in Texas, before he moved them all out there to Arizona, he'd never thought about eventually having so many irons in the fire. But they all worked smoothly. And he'd damn near never thought he'd eventually have a son and heir to run the place when he couldn't.

He wrote a letter to Marshal Blevins and told him Roamer could handle the Force down there and he'd join him when he could, but he had cattle to disburse. Then he wrote Roamer to tell him that it would be several weeks before he could return and relieve him. Next, he penned a letter to Reg and Lucie to be carried by Spud, telling Reg about the plans and about the cows that were coming to him.

“How is it going?” Marge asked from the office door, pulling off her riding gloves and coming over to kiss his cheek.

“Fine. It's getting lined up.” The swivel chair creaked when he spun around. “Jumping going well?”

“Oh, yes, we're doing fine.”

“You know, I learned something back years ago taking cattle to Missouri. Those folks used wooden rail fences to keep the free-range livestock out of their crops. But only the rebel forces and Quantrill's Raiders could jump those fences. The Union Army had to take them down to get through, so for the southern efforts, it was easy to escape.”

“I knew that. My first husband cussed that fact. He could ride a jumper, but they had none trained to do that.”

He hugged her around the waist. “I can't tell you much you don't already know, can I?”

“Chet Byrnes, I never meant it that way.”

“I didn't take it that way. I'm glad you know so much, so I don't have to explain.”

“Good. Wash up. Monica has your fresh coffee and our lunch.”

“Alright, jumping Yankee.” They both laughed.

 

 

He left before daylight with three
vaqueros
and Raphael for Hampt's place, where he and two of his men joined them, and they rode straight for the Ralston place. Hampt told him a new foreman had been recently hired at Ralston's. When they arrived, the new foreman, Cy Mullins, came out of the lighted cook shack into the frosty morning with a steaming cup of coffee.

“What brings you and your posse out here so gawdamn early. We ain't done nothing wrong.”

“Tell all the men to come out here. This won't take long.”

“What for?”

“Just tell them to come out here. I have a message for all of you.”

“What the hell for?”

“I said—”

“Hey, guys come out, the big man is here. He says he needs to talk to all of us.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem. You know I run this place?”

“Yes, I know that.”

“So why talk to them?”

“It concerns all of them.”

The crew came wandering outside, half asleep.

“They all here?”

“Yeah, 'cept the cook. Norris, get the hell out here. He wants all of us to hear his speech, I guess.”

The string bean in a stained apron took his place in the rosy cold morning light.

“They're all here.”

“Thanks. My name is Chet Byrnes. This ranch will today become a part of the Quarter Circle Z. I'm sorry, but I have no jobs for you or your men. You'll be paid off as directed by the estate, and you must leave this ranch today.”

“Ah, shit. We were promised a year's wages if they sold out,” one of the men grumbled.

Chet shook his head. “I will pay what they say they owed you, is all I can do. You can hire a lawyer and sue them for any breach of contract. But they're a big law firm over in California, if you need their address.”

The grumbling and complaining grew throughout the ranks of the group.

Hampt cleared his throat and dismounted. “Anyone wants to buck this deal, come see me.”

They all shook their heads.

“Go eat, or finish. I'll be back to pay you. Gather your things up after that. Some of you have horses here of your own. Those who don't have animals, I can loan one to ride into town on, and you can leave them at Frey's Livery.”

One man spat tobacco aside. “That's damn neighborly of you, mister.”

Then they filed back inside.

“We almost have that settled,” Hampt said.

Chet chuckled. “Hell, you knew none of them wanted to fight with you.”

“By damn, I gave them a chance.”

“You sure did. Raphael, would you check the corrals and look over their horses for me? I'm going to get set up inside to pay them.”

Under his breath, Hampt said, “That's a good job for him. He's a stickler for having things right.”

Raphael and his men rode off to see to the horses.

Chet brought in his heavy saddlebags and set them on an empty table in the cook shack. It was a dusty, cobwebbed hideout and he knew Jesus would have to clean it before he served food in it. His foremen's evaluation of this bunch was right—they were not ranch employees like they hired.

He called them in one at a time. He asked if they had their own horse—though the information was on the estate lawyer's telegram. Everyone was honest and promised to leave the borrowed horse at Frey's Livery. He owed most of them fifty dollars for two month's pay. When he got down to the foreman, Mullins, the paper said to pay him for two months plus six, as they promised.

Mullins stood there and scratched his ear with his index finger. “My agreement is payment of my wages for one year, plus two months at fifty bucks. I knew they'd sell out one day, and I wasn't taking this job unless I got that guarantee.”

“My page says pay you for two months, plus six months, as per contract. Now, if they wire me that was wrong, I'll pay you the rest of the money. But that's not what the telegraph said I should pay you.”

“They got it down wrong.”

“Here, read the telegram.”

He took the page from Chet and used his ear-scratching finger to go down the list to his name. “Gawdamn it, that ain't right.”

Hampt stepped in behind him. “What Mister Byrnes is telling you is right. You want to start a fight over it, we can go outside. Now, you telegraph that lawyer and complain to him when you get to Preskitt. I've done heard all the BS I want coming out of your mouth.”

Mullins whirled on his boot heels to face Hampt. “Well, I aim to fight them in court over this.”

“I don't give a damn what you do besides get the hell off this ranch, or go feet first.”

“They owe me two horses to ride off here. That was part of the deal, too.”

“They've got a short memory. It says nothing in there about two horses,” Chet said, then folded his arms and sat back in the ladder-back chair.

“The no-good bastards—”

“Take the money and leave right now. Chet offered you a horse to ride to town. You can pack one, too, but leave them at Frey's or face horse theft charges. And, I can tell you, we will run your ass down. Them
vaqueros
Raphael has won't bring you back to court, either.”

Mullins's face paled. “Alright, I'll take the money and see them in court.”

Hampt nodded, still grim-faced, and waited for him to leave. He nodded when Mullins went out the door. “Life's getting slow. No one wants to fight me anymore.”

Chet laughed and paid the string bean cook his eighty dollars. He went out the door muttering under his breath. That settled, Chet knew Raphael had the description and brand on every horse and who took it in his logbook.

The shorter Mexican man came inside and wrinkled his nose. “This place is a pigpen.”

“Have one of your men ride back to the ranch and hire some of the
vaqueros
' wives to come over here and clean up this mess. Have them bring the paint left over from the McCully house and fix this up. I'll pay them and when the cow deal is over, we'll have a
fiesta
to celebrate.”

“I will do that now.” Raphael went outside and sent a man back to the ranch for help.

“I thought for a while, Hampt, he was going to fight one of us.”

“Hell, he ain't no big problem to whup.”

“Let's see about the corrals and what we have to work with.”

Most of the hands had ridden off by then. Raphael showed Chet and Hampt the bad gates that needed to be repaired. The squeeze chute also needed some fixing. They planned to haul a wagonload of live oak wood over from the ranch to use for the branding iron fire, plus several irons. There was little firewood around the buildings. No pens were large enough. They'd have to hold that many head of cattle outside in a herd. There was only so much horse hay—they'd need more than that. The graze around the home place had been eaten to the ground. And the ranch horses, on the whole, weren't worth much, either—he'd sell them for whatever he could get. They'd also have to feed the cows. This was going to be expensive before he got it handled.

“I can bring some hay over. That's not any trouble, but we better send my boys over and bring it back today,” Hampt said.

“Do that,” Chet agreed.

Cole and Jesus arrived with the chuckwagon to be.

“Raphael is sending a man back to get some women to clean and paint the quarters and cookhouse. Until they get that done, use a tent. It's a pigpen,” Chet told them.

“You have any troubles with them?” Jesus asked, climbing down off the seat.

“No, Hampt was my man to complain to.”

“They cussed us out on the road.”

Chet shook his head. “Even Mullins didn't want to fight him.”