A Good Day To Kill (32 page)

Hampt sent a man to get a wagonload of hay from his place, and Raphael sent a man to get the women.

Chet went to check the house. He and his crew found it draped in more cobwebs and dust. At one time, the clapboard house had been a nice dwelling. The leather furniture was cracked and pack rats had opened more of its stuffing. Even the books on the shelves were buried in dust.

“My bunch will have this nice in two days,” said Raphael.

Chet agreed with him. “Hampt has his house like he wants it. I'll need to find someone in the bunch to live here. An empty house falls down quickly.”

They went to help set up tents and unload. When things were set up, he and Cole rode back to the ranch for the night. Chet told him to come eat breakfast early at the house and they'd go back and start the roundup.

Marge had to know about it all. When he finished telling her, he considered his first day as well spent.

“Who will live in the house?”

“I may talk to Cole, and see if Valerie would like to live out there rather than in town. There was once a garden and there's water. Save him rent, and she'd have a house of her own. I'll ask him.”

“Good.”

“Will you go into Preskitt this week?”

“Sure. What do you need me to do?”

“Tell Frey to sell the horses those cowboys left with him. We don't need them, and they're junk to me.”

“I can do that.”

“Good. That will handle that for me.”

“Let's go to bed, big man. Your plans are to get up early.”

He put his arm over her shoulder. “I agree.”

Before the sun even colored the eastern rim of the horizon, the two men were headed east on the frosty wagon tracks. Cool enough to enjoy his wool-lined coat, Chet listened to the night birds and waking quail from out in the pancake cactus beds and the sage with juniper bushes. He'd come to enjoy the smell of sage mixed with the strong aroma of ponderosa pines on the hillsides. It meant he was home.

“Those ranch women are all excited about cleaning up your new ranch. They'll descend on it today, so don't get in their way.” Cole chuckled.

“They're a nice bunch of women. I don't want you to decide today, but Marge and I talked about whether you and Valerie would like to live out there.”

“I'll ask her.”

“I just thought after the house is cleaned up, it'll be nice and spacious, and I believe someone needs to live in a house or it will fall down.”

Cole nodded in the growing daylight. “Thanks. I appreciate being considered, even if we don't move out here. I really feel a part of your ranch, and it's nice of you to think of me and her.”

“She may hate ranch living out here.”

“No, but we never talked about it. She's a real sensitive woman and concerned. She never nags me, but she does lots of thinking. I'm proud of her.”

“She puts up with you being gone, too.”

“She knows we're building for our future. I'm proud of the savings we've made from the rewards on my job.”

Chet agreed and told him not to worry about it. She could decide and there was no rush.

The men were saddling horses. Jesus's cooking fire smoke filled his nose. He came with two cups of coffee for them when they dismounted.

Raphael was taking three hands with him and going south to find cows. Hampt and his men were going east, and Cole rode off with them. Though he was anxious to get in the saddle and round up cattle himself, Chet decided to stay to meet the cleaning women.

“How's it going?” he asked Jesus, squatted on his boot heels and sipping his second cup of coffee.

“Good, kind a fun not to have to worry about outlaws and only have to hear complaints about my cooking.”

“Can we make this a ranch?”

“Oh,
si
. It is a good ranch that had been overgrazed. But it can recover. With Hampt in charge, he'll make it better or bust.”

They both laughed.

“He's determined, isn't he?”

“Oh, yes.”

“You've not found a woman?” Chet knew the loss of the woman Jesus loved had ridden his helper hard.

“No.” Jesus laughed. “I have been busy.”

“Tending to my business.”

“Oh, I enjoy every day.”

“I'm glad you're one of my two right arms.”

The women arrived in a wagon. They set in to first clean and paint the cook shack, then the bunkhouse. Things were taking shape. Those women were really making things go.

Carlotta, one of the
vaqueros
' wives, teased him. “We should make a company to clean up these places. That house will take us much longer. Have you seen it?”

“Oh, yes.”

In midafternoon, Raphael and his crew drove in a herd of about three dozen cows and corralled them. One of his
vaqueros
lost his horse in an owl hole and had to be destroyed. A man went back to bring ten fresh horses from the ranch herd for them to use.

Chet rode around in the corral with Raphael to cut out six older cows that they considered too old for the drive.

“No way to separate them on the range,” he said to his man. They'd done well and he knew Hampt would try to bring the most in.

November days were short, and the sun was about to set when they arrived with around forty cows. They drove them in the other pens for separation in the morning.

The cook shack had been cleaned from top to bottom and painted white. Coal oil lamps lit the interior and guitar music filled the air as they served Jesus's food. The men dove into the fire-roasted beef, Dutch oven biscuits, frijoles, and an apple cobbler. The crew and the house cleaners were starved, and they put a lot of it away.

“Thanks to the ladies who cleaned this place today and the bunkhouse,” Chet said, and everyone applauded them.

“Thanks to Jesus and his helpers for the meal. We're working short days, so we'll wake you up early, and you can start out in the dark. If you need a fresh horse, they brought a dozen from the Preskitt ranch today. We turned out their horses; they were all too sorry to gather cattle on. Hampt and I will sort out any culls from your bunch and then he can rejoin you. At this rate, we should be on the road in a few days.”

The nods around the room convinced him they were all eager to start. Tom's men should be there by the next day, then they could wind it up fast. He went to bed thinking about his wife and son, and with his nose full of the smell of fresh paint. Things were going great here, and he hoped so elsewhere.

Both crews were gone in the predawn. Cole had taken Hampt's men. Chet and Hampt saddled horses to ride out of the pen at first daylight. When they were in the pen, Hampt noticed an older cow with giant horns. “Granny needs culled.” He pointed her out to Chet.

Chet moved his horse through some others and nodded he saw her. She spun and clacked horns with another. That angered her and she put down her wide rack, charged, and lifted up the cow she disliked. Then she tossed her over on her side and spun like a fighting bull to crash into Chet's horse's side. Her attack hit his leg and foot in the stirrup. He felt the horse going down and then heard a shot.

The wide-eyed old cow charging was three feet from him when she stumbled and went nose down. Hampt had shot her again. Chet was on his feet by then and headed for the corral wall in a sea of panicked angry cows. One of them was down on her knees from a collision, and he jumped over her. After a scramble up the side, he was soon belly down on top of the corral. He looked back. Hampt was all right. Pale faced as ivory, but he had his smoking gun in his hand.

“Get the hell out of there,” Chet shouted.

“I'm coming. Open the damn gate.”

Women working at the house had heard the shot and were coming on the run.

Every step hurt Chet's foot, but he didn't care. He wanted Hampt out of the bawling, disturbed herd that charged around in the rising dust, upset by the smell of fresh blood and gun smoke.

Carlotta was at his side, helping him jerk the dragging tall gate aside enough for Hampt on his horse to charge out past them. Then they slammed it right in the face of two cows intent on escaping, and she secured it with a hemp rope while he braced it closed with his butt.

Then he slid down the gate behind him to the ground. “Get my right boot off, before we have to cut it off.”

Hampt was off his horse and helped her extract it. Chet clenched his teeth and nodded grim-like, looking at the already swollen limb.

“Oh, my God, how did you run around to here?” she asked.

He put his arm up for Hampt to help him up on his good foot. “Some things you just got to do.”

She shook her head.

Hampt under one arm, and her beneath the other, they hobbled him to the house and soon laid him on a mattress in the newly painted bedroom.

“My horse?” Chet asked through his teeth.

“He was on his feet. I'm sure he'll be sore, but we'll get him out of that pen later when the boys come in.”

“Five Verde cowboys have arrived with extra horses,” a woman announced.

“After they put up their extra horses, tell them where to find those cows. We'll leave the sorting till later.”

“We're taking you home and letting the doc look at your foot,” Hampt announced.

Chet shook his head. “I don't have time for that.”

“Time or not, we're hitching a team and taking you home. I don't want three women chewing on my ass. May, Susie, and Marge. Doc can decide what's wrong. Put some hot cloths on it to reduce the swelling,” he told the women. Then he went out to meet the men.

Chet decided he must have passed out for a short while. The cowboys, all looking concerned, carried him out and placed him onto the mattress in the soon-to-be chuckwagon and they were ready to take him home. Hampt was in charge.

“These woman can feed you. I'll take him home,” Jesus said.

Hampt agreed. “Will you need our help over at the ranch?”

“No.” He scrambled on the seat and unwrapped the reins.

They left in a lurch and he hollered back, “I am sorry, Chet. Hold on.”

Chet looked back at the tailgate. It was in, so he shouldn't slide out the back. No telling about them rolling over. He shook his head to himself. Jesus was shook and going to deliver him back to his wife no matter what risks it took.

Near dark, they came up the lane and Jesus shouted, “Ring the bell. The boss has been hurt.”

Monica and Marge rushed out of the house. Men and women came from everywhere. Two brought lanterns and lit them.

“Hey, I'm fine,” Chet said, sitting up in the wagon bed.

Standing in the bed with his hat tipped back on his head, Jesus said, “Yes. It is his foot that got smashed.”

Two of the
vaqueros
took out the tailgate and pulled the mattress with him seated on it to the back of the wagon bed. Then they each took one of his legs and under Marge's direction carried him in the house and into the living room. She told them there was a fold-up bed in the closet—the one she used to give birth to her son.

It was soon unfolded and made up by all the people helping, and the boss was set on it. The room silenced and Chet said, “I'll be fine. Thank you.”

“Has someone gone for the doctor?”

“Jesus went himself,” one of the
vaqueros
said.

Chet shook his head. “That boy worries about me a lot. I'll be fine. It's too far from my heart to kill me, folks. Go get some sleep and check on me in the morning. I'm sure I'll be alright.”

They all nodded and left him to Marge and Monica.

Once the room was silent and empty, except for those two, he smiled at them. “A cow ran into it. She was mad, but I think you could pour me some of that good whiskey your father left here and I won't care.”

“You—you want a jigger of it?”

“Darling, we don't need to save it. I want a glass of it.”

Monica laughed. “I know he seldom drinks, but he needs a good painkiller tonight, my dear.”

Marge brought him the glass and poured it three-fourths full of the liquor.

“Can you tell us how it happened?” Marge asked, taking a seat beside him.

“We had real good luck. Got sixty or seventy head in the first day. Hampt and I were going to separate some old cows out to send to market. One got mad and rammed my horse. My foot was in the stirrup, which protected it some. I managed to get my other foot out when the horse fell over. She came back for more of me and Hampt shot her. By then I'd ran for the corral side wall and made it over. But Hampt was still in the pen, so I ran around that way to the gate. Carlotta and I let him out safely and kept the wild cows in the pen. Then they pulled my right boot off and it puffed up fast.”

He drank some of the whiskey, then nodded in agreement with himself. That was damn smooth bourbon.

“And Jesus brought you back in that wagon?”

“And he wasted no time, either.” He took another swallow, then handed her the empty glass. “I'll be fine until Doc gets here.”

Despite the earlier pain, he fell right asleep and didn't wake up until Dr. Norman arrived. Must have been hours later. The doc twisting the foot around didn't help him one bit.

“That cow may have broken some bones inside your foot. Your foot has the most bones of the body—twenty-seven. But I think two months' bed rest and you will be fine.” The man frowned. “Why are you all laughing at me?”

“Doc, there isn't a straitjacket could hold him down for that long.” Marge said.

“Doctor, what other advice do you have for him?” Jesus asked.

“Damn sure don't walk on it. Use crutches, and don't let another cow butt it.”

Chet smiled, despite the pain. “Thanks. The women will make you breakfast or you can sleep in one of our bedrooms a few hours and then eat.”

“I will accept the meal. But I better go back to town after that.”

“I'll get our stable boy to take you back,” Marge said.

She turned to Jesus. “You want to eat?”

“No, I am going to sleep out in the bunkhouse. Don't let him leave without me.” He pointed at Chet, who laughed.

“We have any crutches?” Chet asked. “I hate them, but I'll need them. I broke my leg once, and tore up my ankle another time in Texas. Crutches are not funny.”

“Want some more whiskey or laudanum?” Marge asked, as if she didn't care if he had crutches or not.

“Whiskey. Doc, you want some good Kentucky bottle and bond?”

“Thank you. I'd take a shot.”

“Bring me a glass,” he said after Marge who'd gone for it. “He ain't hurting as bad as I am.”

His foot, ankle, and calf really swelled from the bruising. When he woke up the next morning, Jesus had crutches ready for him. By then, besides being swollen, his foot was turning purple and yellow. Throw in the pain up to his hip, and he felt like a sore-toed bear. They fixed him up with a metal bathtub beside his bed, but he couldn't bend his right knee enough to get it in the water. So he bathed, and then sat on the bed to wash it.

Marge shaved him and, finally dressed, he went on crutches to the kitchen to eat breakfast. The entire situation and sharp pain kept him on edge most of the day. Hampt came over the second afternoon.

“We've got two hundred head and have them culled,” he told Chet as he sat in a chair and turned his hat over and over in his hand. “We'll brand them tomorrow. I fixed that squeeze chute. That means I plan to leave there the next day. Tom was by yesterday and went back to the Verde. He's sending Spud up to tell Reg our plans. Then he aims to come by and see you.”

“You better take Jesus here with you.”

“No, we've got a cook. One of the Verde boys can cook for us. He ain't Jesus, but we all want him to stay here with you. I know I'm taking too much help along with me, but if we get along good I'll send them home. I'm not your brother-in-law, Sarge, who herds cattle every month, nor are my hands.”

“Not worried about that. You're right on schedule. Don't get anyone else hurt.”

Hampt crossed his fingers. “I've been praying about that.”

“Jesus, you figure they have enough supplies unloaded over there to feed them?” Chet asked.

“Plenty.”

“You taking the chuckwagon back?” he asked Hampt.

“Yeah. One day of branding and we'll start north-west the next. Weather is holding, so we'll be off for the Rim Ranch. Me and the boys figure it'll take us ten days one way to get up there, three to get back. I'm taking Cole because he's had more cattle-driving experience and he can keep us lined out. Two of the Verde Ranch boys say they know the way. Like I said, if I don't need that many men, I'll send them home.”

“That's the least of my worries. Tell them all to ride safely and God be with you.”

Hampt drew in a deep breath. “I think I've got it all. That leg still hurts, don't it?”

Chet lifted it and reset it. “It ain't bad.”

Hampt chuckled and shook his head. “You'd be dying and you'd say that.”

“I'm damn sure not dying. Have a good trip. Wish I could go along.”

“Hampt,” Marge, standing beside her husband, said, “we appreciate all you and the crew do for us. Hug May for me, will you?”

“I've never been away from her much since I married her. It'll be different. I lean on her a lot.”

“You two have a wonderful marriage and deserve each other.”

“Yes, ma'am. We surely do. Jesus, you got any advice?”

“No. Good luck. I will be sure he does not get in any trouble while you are gone.”

“Fair enough. I better get that wagon hooked up.”

Jesus shook his head. “The boys have it ready for you to go.”

Hampt chuckled. “Things get done fast around here, mighty fast. See you in a couple of weeks.”

“
Vaya con Dios
,” Chet said, after shaking his big calloused hand.

They'd go to the Rim Ranch without him. Damn, that leg hurt.