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Authors: Dusty Richards

Ambush Valley

BOOK: Ambush Valley
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D
USTY
R
ICHARDS
A
MBUSH
V
ALLEY
PINNACLE BOOKS
Kensington Publishing Corp.
www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
P
ROLOGUE
An auctioneer's chant carried to where Chet Byrnes stood looking at the ranch yard crowded with people. Folks buying things he couldn't or didn't want to move. Excited children were exploring everything. Chickens squawked in homemade crates. The Byrnes were leaving the home site that his grandfather and father had chosen years before after coming down there from the Arkansas hills. The place his father and his mother's father built and kept from falling into the hands of the bloodthirsty Comanche, except for the three of his siblings who were swept away in Comanche kidnappings.
It was the ranch his father came back to after his military service with Sam Houston's ragtag army who finally whipped Santa Anna to raise the Lone Star Flag over the republic of Texas. Later on his father was brought back there by some Texas rangers, a broken-down near-delirious man, after searching too long and hard for three of his stolen children. Hardly dry behind the ears, Chet took over managing the ranch.
Then a bitter blood feud with the Reynolds took its toll on the family. A woman of interest to him, Marla Price, was murdered by some of the feudists who were hung for their vicious deed. His brother Dale was shot down in Kansas by some of the Reynolds while driving a large herd to the Kansas markets. Chet's nephew Heck had been murdered by some worthless road agents when the two were coming back to Texas. Another woman who stole his heart in his childhood, Kathren Hines, came back into his life, and he was sad on that sale day; because of her family loyalties she could not leave Texas, but had to stay behind to care for her older parents.
The man who never had his chance to go ride over the hill, do some wild things in his youth, was the steady hand who raised the–C into a profitable working ranch in the Texas hill country. The ongoing feud forced him to buy a new ranch in the Arizona Territory, and he was moving everyone out there except his nephew Reg and his bride Juanita. Those two stayed to care for an elderly childless couple, Henry and Millie Price, and some day they would inherit their ranch operation.
His sister Susie, in her early twenties, who was his mainstay, didn't complete her attachment with Sheriff Trent due to her need to run the ranch house's operation. His forty-two-year-old Aunt Louise was brought to his side when he saved her from being ravaged by some hired thugs. His brother's widow May with her own baby daughter Donna and her two stepchildren, Ray, nine, and Ty, seven, were a part of his extended family. The boys' younger sister Rachel had died of complications, and like Chet's parents, were buried in the Yellow Hammer Creek cemetery.
In Arizona, a rich widow Marge Stephenson waited for his return, hoping for him to marry her. A large newly purchased ranch, the Quarter Circle Z, which straddled the Verde River, needed to be rebuilt. He finally sold the–C ranch and wound up his business in the Lone Star State to go west.
They and their farm wagons, horses, and goods were hauled by rail to Fort Worth and then to West Texas on the new Fort Worth–Denver Railroad with tracks already built near the town of Tascosa in the panhandle, and from there they planned to go overland by wagons on the surveyed Marcy Road to Arizona.
C
HAPTER
1
The too-bright West Texas sun shone off everything including the ground with a mirror's blinding rays. Chet held on to the rope halter on his palomino stallion Barbarossa, leading him down the fresh-cut lumber chute. Barbarossa was his pride and joy. Once on the dirt, the frisky stud circled him on his lead and Chet laughed.
The tiring three-day-long train ride with some layovers ran from San Antonio to Fort Worth; then they switched lines to the new Fort Worth–Denver Railroad line and took it to the end of its tracks. They'd have to drive their wagons the next six hundred or more miles across the thirsty earth to get to their new home in the Arizona Territory.
Barb, as he called him, was being securely hitched to the stout hitching racks set up for tethering animals. He made loud challenges as Chet pulled the tie down tight. He clapped him on the neck. “Go easy big man. We're half of the way there.”
The others were unloading the farm wagons with a team of Belgium mares to back up and ease the wagons down the steep ramps. Tents were going up and the Mexican boys hired by the railroad agent were helping them to get set up. Susie with her skirt in her hands was running about directing the unloading, in charge of that business. His sister-in-law May kept the young boys back from the wild operations while holding her upset baby daughter Donna in her arms.
The draft horses and then the saddle horses came out of the stock cars until they all were hitched at a long rack. His eighteen-year-old nephew JD had charge of that operation and with the drivers was busy harnessing the teams to hitch to wagons so they could unload the furniture and commodities out of the boxcars and not have to reload them later.
“How is it going?” Chet asked Susie, who looked distressed.
“It will work out somehow.”
He caught her shoulder and stopped her. “I have plenty of help hired here. Slow down. Tell me what's wrong. I can get it under control.”
She swept the curls back from her face and her shoulders sagged. “I just want it to be right.”
“It will be.”
“Do we have to go on tomorrow?” She looked hard at him for an answer.
“Not necessarily. But it would be better if we did. From the standpoint that every day we waste, we don't make twenty miles.”
“I understand, but the train ride has been very tiring on May and the children. I thought we needed to let our lives catch up. Your aunt is very tired and she hasn't done a thing.”
He chuckled. He knew how good Louise was at that.

No
.
No
,” Susie spoke in Spanish to a boy with a wooden crate he carried around. “That goes in wagon
numero
three.”
“Oh,
sí
,
señorita
.”
“He don't know three from four.”
She laughed. “I guess you're right.”
“It will be a deal to get going. So I'll tell the boys what we're doing. Staying a day won't kill us. You settle down. I'll get a cowboy to run this Mexican help. You go sit down.”
She nodded.
He pointed to the number 3 on the box and directed the youth to find the
carita
marked 3. The youth agreed and acted surprised that a number and a wagon were the same thing.
The sun went down and the flat cars, stock cars, and boxcars of the railroad were at last unloaded. He shook the agent's hand and wrote him a check for the amount of a thousand dollars. The man made him out a receipt in the campfire light and thanked him. JD told him the horses were all watered and fed. The crew and family formed a line where beef stew was being served with Dutch oven biscuits. Apple dumplings half filled another large Dutch oven for dessert.
Two young Texas rangers came by and visited with him. They were on duty, not only watching the track building, making sure no union problems occurred in the progress, but also doing peacekeeping as well.
Crane, a young ranger who hailed from close to where they lived, could hardly fathom why Chet had sold out. He said, “I'd've shot every one of them bastards.”
“You can't kill everyone, they've got too large a family. Besides they shot my brother clear up in Kansas. No, it was time we found a new place to throw down our bedrolls.”
The other one's name was Hamby and he agreed that a feud was hard to stop. “That sheriff should have asked for rangers.”
“He tried hard. Come eat, boys. My sister has plenty of food.”
They stood up and brushed the seat of their pants with their hats and thanked him. They all washed up at the start of the line and JD joined them.
“You get many law breakers over here?” he asked them.
“Quite a few,” Hamby said. “They've run out here 'cause there was so little law and we get several wanted ones and some new cases too.”
“Is it exciting?” JD asked.
“Naw, once in a while we have to buck up to arrest some guy. But most throw down their guns when we ride up.”
“You fellars must have a big rep,” JD said.
“Naw, we's just rangers is all.”
Susie handed the first one a tin plate. “Don't you men skimp none at eating. I'm glad you all are here. We have plenty.”
“Yes, ma'am.” Crane about swallowed his whole Adam's apple at her words.
Chet was glad his outfit was going to stay over to check everything the next day. Maybe they'd all get a rest because by the next month they would be a long ways west of this spot.
He and JD rode over to look over Tascosa the next day. A town the rangers said was tough. When they got there, some men were having a shooting contest and the boy that won it was William Bonney. He hardly looked out of his teens. He dressed sloppy and had a Mexican
puta
that hung around his neck all the time. Someone told them he was an enforcer for John Chisum, the big rancher, and probably had some stolen horses he'd brought up there to sell.
Chet and JD both drank a beer and started back to camp, still unimpressed with what was labeled “the greatest town west of Fort Worth.” They also learned the railroad wanted ten thousand dollars to lay tracks to their city and no one there had that kind of money.
Bonney stopped them in the street. “I hear you're moving to a big ranch over into Arizona.” His weathered felt hat off his head, he beat it with his left hand on his leg. He had to sweep back his uncut hair because of the wind. “Need a good hand or two?”
“Not today, we've got enough help thanks.”
Bonney nodded like he was thinking about it, then when they started again, he said, “Hold up, I know that road real good.”
“I imagine you do,” Chet said. “But we have our own help. Thanks.”
“Yeah, watch out for them damn Navajos, they'll rob you blind.”
“Thanks.”
“Sure. You guys ever want to have a shoot off, come see me. I'm the best in the West.”
“I believe you are,” Chet said and they rode off.
When they were far enough away, JD looked back then asked, “Was he wanting to have a gunfight?”
“I think so. I didn't buy his bait.”
“Just so I didn't miss the point.” JD shook his head warily. “He sure was a cocky bastard.”
“I have heard his name before.”
“Have you?” They were trotting their horses across the West Texas sagebrush and bunch grass.
“Yeah, they call him Billy the Kid.”
“Yeah, I've heard of him.”
Things went uneventfully in camp, except three rangers this time came for supper that evening, and to meet his sister. Chet believed if any one of those lawmen stole her, he'd beat them up and drag her back.
That second morning, May had the baby in a cradle and looked rested when he came by the tables. The chubby widow of his brother came from a rich family who had shunned her when she married Dale. Chet always thought his brother married her to take care of his three sons and baby daughter. But she was sweet, worked hard, and never complained. The teenage older son of Dale, Heck, had been murdered by road agents. The boy and his stepmother had a struggle getting along. Which is why he took Heck to Arizona looking for a new ranch. He'd grown up so much on their trip—damn, he could hardly even imagine that boy was dead.
Their things were all loaded before the sun came up. Susie and May had a wagon to drive. He knew mules would have been better than the Belgium mares, but he felt even if they had to haul some forage and water for them, in the end he'd raise some great draft mule colts from them.
A Mexican boy named Rio herded the loose horse stock, the other brood mares, and saddle stock. His brother Juan led Barb, the stallion, from his horse, a tough, well-broke gelding. JD was the scout and Chet the trail boss.
Seven veteran ranch hands drove the other teams. They were all experienced cowboys that he knew and trusted. His Aunt Louise drove one of the wagons and Chet knew she would be his biggest pain in the rear of the entire outfit. May's two younger stepsons had small horses to ride, but he made them ride in a wagon the first few days. They did lots of awing about that but he didn't want them lost or separated.
They took four days to get to the New Mexico Territory line. A New Mexico rancher there with plenty of water welcomed them. Chet offered to pay him but he scoffed away his offer. “My wife will be proud for the company.”
A man in his thirties, Roy Arny said he'd fought for Texas in the war and was glad to hear someone who talked with a drawl. Chet's outfit impressed him and Arny sent word for his wife to come meet the white women.
“So you've got a place in Arizona?” Arny asked.
“Yes. On the Verde River.”
“When I went out there in '65 that was all Apache country. That was right at the end of the war. Indians around here weren't mad, so I came back closer to Texas.”
His windmill was working hard pumping water and creaking in the strong wind. The drivers were watering their stock and had set up a tent for the ladies.
“Nice teams. The trip will be hard on them. I'd have used mules.”
“I can afford to baby them. I plan to raise mules with them when we get out there. They'll have good mule colts.”
“They damn sure will. Might really bring some top money, too. You sell your place back there?”
“I did. An investor wanted it for his son-in-law. We sold him the cattle, mules, and lots more. Oh, and two colts out of my stallion. They paid for the railroad bill to get us up here.”
He and Chet leaned with their backs to the tall corral. Arny rolled a cigarette, lit it and puffed on it. He offered the makings to Chet. “You want a smoke?”
Chet shook his head.
“I seen that claybank hoss. Where did he come from?”
“Mexico. The Barbarousa Hacienda. I bought him as a colt. They seldom sell their stallions.”
“He looks like a helluva horse.”
“He really is.”
“You must have had a big outfit down there in Texas.”
“We did, but a family feud developed and I lost my brother. We were shot at and lots of bad things happened. Made up my mind I needed to find some new ground. I was lucky this ranch we have now was run down. The owner lived back East and I think he was afraid of the manager he had hired. I bought it—I think it's worth the money.”
“You know that Arizona ain't the Texas hill country?”
Chet nodded. “But you can't live in a land where your life and your family is threatened every day.”
“No, I guess not. Which one of these ladies is your wife?” Arny asked as his own wife, carrying a child and followed by two more, came up the sandy driveway.
“My sis is the gal over there. Her name is Susie Byrnes. I don't have a wife.”
“Would you introduce my wife Neddy to her?”
“Sure.”
After the women were introduced, Susie took her and the kids inside the tent. He and Arny talked more about ranching.
JD rode in and dismounted. Chet introduced his nephew to Arny. Then he asked JD how the next day looked.
“Fine. There's some water about twenty miles west in a small dry wash.”
“Dead Man's Creek,” Arny said. “The next water is thirty miles from there. Then it's thirty more to a trading post.”
“We've got a water wagon to get us by.”
“Fill it up every chance you get.”
“We will,” Chet said. “The women must have coffee on by now. Join us.”
“Sure sounds good. We run out a couple weeks ago. Roasted barley won't replace it. I need to go get some.”
“JD, go get his wife some Arbuckle coffee from the supply wagon.”
Arny frowned at him. “I never said that to get charity.”
“Ease off. We're watering stock, filling our water wagon. A couple of pounds of coffee ain't a high price to pay for all that.”
“Whatever you say. That coffee will damn sure make Neddy smile.” The two men walked to the tent.
They'd covered a hundred miles and had at least five hundred more to go.
 
 
The next few days some mountain would stick up way off, and it would take several days to reach its base. They found grass for their stock and water. Some of the water had so much alkali in it was hard to swallow. They tried to keep good water in the drinking barrels on the wagons but each mile the wheels turned, that task grew harder.
San Juan Mission had several small deep lakes of fresh water. The people were Hispanic and acted glad to see them. They took a day off, washed clothes, and bathed. Everyone needed a rest. A rancher sold them more hay. They had not used a lot of it, but Chet wanted to be certain so they added to the supply.
BOOK: Ambush Valley
13.56Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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