A Good Day To Kill (8 page)

He hugged her. “You and Reg are part of it.”

“Oh, heavens, yes. It's been fun, too.”

Willy reported Crowley was gone before supper that evening. Two of the places they looked at later had doubtful wells, but eight were marked for windmills and tanks. Reg's cattle looked good, but he needed a dozen breeding-age British bulls.

Chet and his two men left for home the day after, seeing everything was going great. Lucie had plenty of help coming for the baby, and she kissed his cheek. “Pray for us.”

“I can do that, Lucie.”

“We'll be fine then.”

He thought the same and swung on his horse. Reg had some local boys to hay for him that summer. So that was settled—he and Jesus, and Cole, were headed home again.

His wife would be grateful.

Chet, Cole, and Jesus stopped over at the Verde Ranch. Susie fed the men and put them up for the night. Sarge, as usual, was gone on a drive to Navajo Land and he wanted her close to help if and when she went into labor—so her plan to camp at the Windmill in a tent wasn't taken serious.

The next morning, Tom came by and Chet sent for John to talk windmills with them. John, his chief mechanic, arrived in the living room looking smiley faced.

“What do you fellows need now?”

“Windmills to pump some water. We have some homesteads we bought with already dug wells. Some are pretty strong. What do we need to put up windmills on them?” Chet asked John.

“We'd have to order the mechanical parts. Takes me too long to make them, and I don't have the milling machinery to do it. Then we'd have to get the lumber cut and buy some pipe, connectors, and faucets. When we had them set, then about all we'd need is water in the well and wind.”

“Let's go to pricing everything. I'd like several set up this summer, especially up at Reg's. He needs the water to scatter his cattle to other grazing.”

John nodded. “It may be too late for this year, but we can try to get some up. Sarge has two, I think. I sent two men up there to get them running this spring.”

Susie poured coffee for them. “Last I heard, he said they were running good.”

“That guy who sold you that place over there,” John said. “He makes them.”

Chet recalled Joseph McQuire and where he had moved outside of Preskitt. “I'll go see McQuire. You give Tom the lumber dimensions they need and he can get it ordered for six of them to start.”

“First you make your own barbwire, now windmills. What comes next?” Susie asked, and laughed like in the old days when she was in on all of Chet's plans.

“A self-propelled hay stacker,” Tom teased.

They all laughed. Chet thanked her and told everyone how he appreciated their efforts. “It's going great. Time the railroad gets here, we'll be ready for them to ship our cattle to market.”

“Those tracks ain't left Kansas yet,” Cole said, and shook his head. That was the truth of it.

They were back to the top place by midafternoon. Cole asked for his plans, to be certain it was alright for him to head for his bride in town. Chet excused him, and he and Jesus shared a grin. Marge came out on the back porch to meet him and kissed him.

“How is Adam?” Chet asked.

“Fine, he's a great baby. I don't have enough milk for him, but Raphael is getting a few milk goats to try on him. I didn't know goats give different kinds of milk from what they eat, but I'm learning. He and Monica say we can find the right nanny.”

Monica had a sliced roast beef sandwich on sourdough fixed for him. He sat down, and while he ate he told them all about Reg and Lucie and the plans for the windmill setups on the homesteads he'd bought.

“More expansion,” Marge said. “You need three of you. One to run the Force down south, one to help your neighbors get out of the hot grease they fall into, and a third one can oversee the ranches.”

“We're holding our own.”

She hugged his neck. “I know, but it gets harder. You're going to try JD on that desert place he calls Diablo?”

“That's my plan.”

“You know he is the least dependable one in this whole lot?”

“He's also tough as rawhide and it will take some men like that to run that ranch.”

“Your problem, not mine.”

“He's made a big turn riding with the Force. I'm betting he makes it.”

“Ranches from hell to breakfast. Next windmills. You are a winner, my dear husband, but it will have to stop someday.”

“When I am old and gray.”

“Your dad wasn't this expansive, was he?”

“No, but my grandfather was. He brought all the family down from Arkansas to build that ranch before the Texas Revolution. Later, my dad lost his mind from searching for the twins and the other boy we lost to the Comanche. Some Texas Rangers brought him back home, but he was delirious. He never got over it. My mother's mind went, too, over their loss. As a teenager, I had to take charge and run the ranch.”

“Oh, I know you enjoy this entire thing. I didn't expect a stay-at-home husband.”

“Good,” he said before taking another bite.

“Save some time for Adam and me.”

“I will. I'm going to go see McQuire tomorrow and get this windmill deal going if I can.”

“Isn't he kind of odd?” Marge asked.

“I thought so, but great inventors are sometimes like that.”

They both laughed.

The next morning, he and Jesus found the tall man in his shop. McQuire waved at them and kept working on a wind vane, soldering on the blades.

“I'll be done here in a few minutes.”

“Don't worry, we have all day.”

“Good. I understand you're sure busy selling cattle to the Navajos.”

“That's why I bought your ranch.”

“I'm glad. My windmill business is going good here and getting better.”

“What do you get for the hardware for a mill?”

“How many?”

“Six mills to start.”

“If I can get the metal, fifty dollars apiece.”

“I want six of them.”

“I have material to build two. I'd need an advance to order more material. A hundred-dollar advance, say, for the six.”

“Order the material. I'll get you the money.”

“Sounds good. Who will assemble it?”

“I have a blacksmith at the Verde River Ranch. He's good.”

“Have him come up here for a day and I can show him how to assemble it.”

“I'll arrange that.”

They left McQuire's place with Chet feeling the windmill operation might even work some that summer. He needed to keep finding ways to ranch better.

When he reached home, a telegram from his lawyer waited.

He sent word to his lawmen. They were going back to Tubac and try to wind up the Force's efforts. So as not to forewarn the elements that supported the border outlaws, they'd start back, two at a time, the next Sunday.

“What about the squatter women down there?” Jesus asked.

“They need to be taken back to Nogales.”

“Who'll do that?”

“I'll have to hire someone to do it.”

Jesus nodded.

When he went back to that country, he had to resolve that issue. He also had to find Masters—his attempts to kill him needed answered. He didn't forget people who were out to do that. And he'd made it a part of his own plans to take care of them.

In a week, Chet and the crew were back at Tubac and the Morales Ranch. Horses shod and everything gone over that they'd need in pursuit of any outlaws, like packsaddles, cinches, breast straps, and holsters, as well as weapons cleaned and oiled. No detail was too small to overlook.

When he went by his office in Tucson to return to the job, Blevins handed him a thick stack of reported crimes that had happened during his break.

Later, at the camp meeting, Ortega told him about a man who would move the women and children squatters, and take them to a place he'd reserved for them near Nogales.

“How much will he charge?”

“He says three hundred dollars.”

“Plenty big price. Would he treat them nice?”

“I think so.”

“You and Jesus go down and rent them the place at Nogales for six months. After that, they'll be on their own. Get him lined up to move them. Two of you will need to go along, to be sure they're treated humanely.”

“Jesus can be in charge of that team,” Roamer said. “He knows them better than any of us.”

“Send my brother Bronco help him,” Ortega said. “He knows, too. While you were gone, he's been feeding them.”

“Good, we'll have that settled.” That issue was about to be over, but he wondered about Masters and his boss. That needed to be straightened out, and development of the new ranch started.

He and JD spent two hours by themselves that morning, talking about the big Diablo Ranch.

“I doubt we can run straight British beef on that place,” Chet said.

“It'll take a part-longhorn cow to thrive on the Diablo,” JD agreed.

“Cross cattle won't be a shame, but a straight British cow would be a mistake in the heat down here, and some dry years will sure test them.”

“I'd wondered. Since we came down here, I've seen a lot of these Mexican cattle in the brush. We could do that—cull the sorry ones and build our own breed.”

“Yes. Things we'll learn as we grow.”

“Think we can find some artesian wells?” JD asked.

“I do. They show up all over. No reason for us not to find some, but they cost money to drill, too.”

JD nodded. “Can I hire Ortega as my foreman?”

“I think he'd be a good choice. I don't want you two fighting. You and him will have to give and take on decisions.”

“I think I understand; I've watched you all the time.”

“Now, how much have you and your wife talked about living on the Diablo? It gets damn hot down there.” He wanted to have a clear understanding with JD and his wife.

“I told her there was room to grow down there, and that I'd build her a nice home and we'd have a good life.”

“You're convinced you two will make it down there?”

“Yes. We aren't kids. Face to face, we made rules and they include that neither of us is right. So far, we've seen other things we needed to include. I feel it's a forever arrangement.”

“This ranch is a big investment for all of us. I think it'll be a good one, but it will take everyone's dedication to get it there.”

“I remember when you asked if I could lay adobe bricks. And I can, if we need to.”

“If you see a wreck coming—let me know.”

“I won't walk away on you.”

“Good. The squatters will soon not be our worry and we can figure out what Buster and his crew are up to.”

“When will that be?”

“Soon. I expect a letter from Russell any day that we can move in.”

“Will they sell us their cattle?”

“I don't know. We can learn that when it happens.”

“I guess we will, huh? You won't regret putting me in charge.”

“I don't expect to.”