Ambush Valley (10 page)

“A wonderful country.”

“I've never been up there.”

“Never? One day, if your reputation can stand it, we'll make a trip up there.”

She gave him a push. “My reputation is no worry to me. If I can go with you, I'd ride to hell and back.”

He nodded that he'd heard her.

 

 

The dance started on time, right after they had slow barbequed beef, beans, and fry bread, plus cherry cobbler at Marge's tent. Susie, his aunt, Tom's wife Millie, and a big share of the ranch crew all had greasy lips and were ready to stomp. It was Saturday night in Camp Verde and the fiddles were tuned.

Kay, Floyd Kent's wife, came by and gossiped with everyone. The short blond woman whose husband ignored her spoke to him. “Where's JD tonight? Did he not come?”

“He's up on the rim running our crew, who are hauling logs to the sawmill. All his teamsters and loggers left him for better pay in Tombstone. We weren't getting any lumber we needed from up there.”

“He's a wonderful dancer. I'll miss him. Tell him I said hi.”

“I will, Kay. He likes to dance.”

When she went off, he wondered about his nephew who was close to eighteen or had turned that, and the thirty-year-old rancher's wife. Well he'd have to see. She was a cute, nice lady, and a good friend of Marge's. He couldn't even imagine her husband ignoring her.

“That's our waltz,” Marge said, and took him out on the floor. They whirled around the room and he was grateful he had her in his arms.

“Kay ask you about your nephew?”

He nodded and guided them past a slower couple. “They must have struck up a friendship?”

“I think so. He really can dance.”

“Should I be concerned?”

She shook her head. “They simply danced. They did it very well and he danced with others. Why?”

“She's unhappy in her current life, I know that. Any time you aren't wanted, change is an option.”

“Oh, he's how old?”

“Eighteen. But a grown-up eighteen. He's seen enough hell in his life.”

“Has he ever had a serious girlfriend?”

“You know I don't know. His older brother Reg married a girl named Juanita who worked for my sister and lived on the ranch. I never knew about them either until they announced their plans. His mother had a fit because Juanita was Catholic and Mexican, but she calmed down. I really miss having Reg to help me. He was a tough young man.”

“Aren't all mothers upset when their son leaves them for another.”

“I guess so.”

He danced once with the schoolmarm Miss Costello. A lovely thin girl about nineteen who was a big hit with the cowboys. She came from Nebraska and signed a contract not to marry anyone until the end of the school year. Schoolteachers were hard to keep single in a land short on women like Arizona was, and for some reason only unmarried women were allowed to teach. He never asked why. But he knew she wouldn't have any problem finding dance partners that evening.

They set out a square dance. Marge went to get them some iced lemonade, and Allen Gates who owned the CXT came by to sit next to him on the wall bench. He was in his forties and had a much younger wife Madrid who was square dancing with someone.

“I wanted to talk to you some one of these days about the Hartley brothers. They've moved several head of cattle in here and act like they're bringing in more.”

“I never met them,” Chet said.

“That's the T Bone outfit from east of Mayer. Brand their stock with a big T B.”

Gates crossed his legs and acted like he had something big to tell him. “They act like they own everything. I guess where you are, you ain't met them yet. But you will.” The rancher looked around to see if anyone was close. “That Carl is a cocky little bastard.”

“No. I haven't met them so far.”

“This is a dry country compared to back in the East. You can eat all this grass down and not have any if we ain't careful. They don't seem to give a damn.”

Marge was back and offered Gates her mug of lemonade. He politely thanked her and excused himself.

When she sat down, Chet asked her if she knew the Hartley brothers.

She gave him a cold frown. “Which one, Carl or Willis?”

“I'm sorry I asked.” He chuckled at her sour look that he brought on by his question.

“It isn't funny. I think that Carl is a smart mouth and no gentleman.” She squared her shoulders and straightened up.

“Oh?” He made note of her rigid posture.

The tone of her voice was cold as ice. “He has no manners—”

“Sorry I asked. Gates is concerned about them overstocking the ranges up here.”

“They came here about two years before you did. Carl came over and told my dad that folks better take notice that he and his brother were fixing to take over the cattle ranching business around here. Before he left that day he took me aside and propositioned me like I was some lady of the night. I went to the house for a damn gun.”

Chet drew back from her, amazed at her anger. “Did you shoot at him?”

Her eyebrows were like a hawk's wings ready to pounce on something. “No, but if I had, there would have been only one brother left to ranch over there.”

He hugged her shoulder, but he could tell she wasn't over thinking bad about this guy. That really took some nerve for the smart mouth to have done that. Hartley better not ever say anything to him about her, or he'd wish better of it when he got through with him.

Susie came by with the tall rancher Tom Hanager, and she spoke to them. Tom was in his thirties and usually had his teenage daughter Caylin with him. She was nowhere around him now, and Susie and he looked comfortable together. He'd noticed the two of them dancing. They still looked at arm's length, but maybe something would grow—he'd hate to lose her, but he knew she needed her own life.

“Those young cowboys of ours are dancing the soles off his daughter's feet,” Susie said and both of them smiled over it.

Hanager agreed. “Caylin loves to dance. I'm glad your sister came with you. Susie is a nice partner for me to get to step on her toes.”

They both laughed. Hanager was a good dancer and Susie was an easy person to dance with.

A fight must have broken out. Several men ran to the front door. Chet held up his hand for Marge to stay there, and hurried through them to see what was going on out in the schoolyard.

From the porch, he could see two men about equal in size, exchanging fists like a pair of boxers. They made some furious moves to make contact, and then danced back, defending themselves. He joined Sarge and asked his cowboy what the fight was about.

“That redheaded guy claims the other one has been trying to steal his wife. The other guy is a cowboy works for a ranch over east of here. I don't know him. The redheaded guy does freighting.”

The men charged each other, exchanged a few more fists, then danced away again. There was lots of cheering by the drunks in the crowd.

Sarge asked Chet if they should stop it.

Chet gave him a nod. “There's too many kids here.”

Marge joined him and held his arm. “What's happening?”

“Two men are fighting over the redhead's wife. We're going to stop it. Too many children here.”

Sarge stepped in and held his hands up for them to quit. “Hold it right there. This is a family doings. This does not set a good example for those children.”

The redhead swept the hair back and threatened Sarge. Two of Chet's ranch hands pulled him back by his arms and gave him a threat Chet couldn't hear. But it drew the fight out of him. The two fighters exchanged some verbal threats and the crowd began to fade.

“The Quarter Circle Z crew settle the matter,” she said, looking at him pleased.

“This isn't the place for a fight. My men know that.”

“Obviously. Who was your mentor out there?”

“Sarge, he rode with General Crook in the big Apache roundup. Said he ate too many beans. He's a good man to have on your side.”

“Thanks,” someone said, who realized it was his men that backed Sarge's breaking it up.

“No need in showing the kids here how to solve their problems.”

“I'm Clark Evans. Own the X Two ranch south of Preskit.”

“Chet Byrnes.”

“I know you. That was nice of your men to stop that. I agree, too many children are here. Next month, we're having a meeting of area cattlemen in Preskit. I'd like to invite you.”

“What's happening?”

“There are people forcing others off the range that really belongs to all of us.”

“Let me know. Me or my foreman Tom Miller will be there to listen.”

“Thanks. You get mail at Camp Verde?”

“Yes, we do.”

Chet went back inside with Marge and they danced. He mentioned the man's deal to her. “Clark and some others are hosting a meeting about the range overloading.”

“Hartley brothers?”

“I suspect them.”

“My father is upset about them too.”

“I'll be sure that he knows about it.”

“Good.” She searched around to be certain no one was close enough to hear her. “When can we slip off and be by ourselves?”

“You have a private tent?”

“Yes.”

“Let's go.”

“That's not too wanton of me to ask, is it?”

He shook his head. “No. And who can we hurt?”

She squeezed his hand. “Thanks.”

Ready to go, they told some ranch folks who had been around them for the evening that they were turning in. After the farewells, they hiked to her camp. The night was pleasant under the quarter moon and stars. Raphael met them short of her camp.

“Was the fight down there tonight serious?”

Chet shook his head. “No, but it was unnecessary. That is a family event.”

“Yes,” she agreed.

They told her man good night and went on.

“He watches things closely,” she said. “I feel very safe with him around.”

“We told you that you needed him.”

She poked him in the ribs. “Both of you.”

He looked back over the campground. Things were quiet enough. Maybe too quiet. Unrest from the Apaches in this land wasn't over, they simply were not settled into reservation life. But they weren't going to storm Camp Verde, however they could, on the run, hurt some isolated families in their way or for their needs. And the Hartley brothers—he needed to look at them more seriously.

Grateful for her hospitality, he smiled at her in the candlelight and toed off his boots. Shortly in her nightgown, she blew out the candle. It would all work out.

The next week went by quickly and a trip up on the rim to check on JD and the men used up three days. He found that everything was going fine up at the sawmill and JD was going to bring lumber down on Saturday and stay for the dance. Chet knew Marge would be upset about their being apart so long, but on Thursday he stopped off there for one night, coming back from talking to a man who ranched down by Congress, south of Preskit, about buying some more Hereford bulls.

Saturday night after the potluck supper, Marge's friend Kay, the short blond rancher's wife, danced with him. Kay told him she was so glad he had come back to Arizona and was with her best friend.

“I want to thank you. Those polite cowboys that work for you have asked me to dance, too.”

“Good bunch. I know you've met my nephew JD.”

“Oh, yes.” Her reply sounded like a swoon. “He's a real mature young man for his age.”

“He's been working up on the rim. He planned to be here tonight. I am surprised he didn't make it. Must have had some trouble getting back.”

“Well, maybe he'll still come tonight.”

“Yeah, he's a great young man. His brother stayed in Texas to run a nice ranch for some older people and earn the ranch since they have no heirs.”

“That sounds like a very good thing.”

“Oh, Reg is good man. His wife Juanita worked for my sister for a year.”

“This other lady Louise is your aunt?”

“Yes, her husband, my uncle, was killed in the last days of the war.”

“I understood she was a widow.”

“Louise is definitely something.”

Kay laughed. “You're so sweet.”

“No, I'm just myself.”

“Thank you for the dance.”

He bowed his head. “Thank you, too.”

Then he and Marge left her in the small group and waltzed away.

“What did she tell you?”

“Oh, how you hated that I ever came back—”

Marge leaned back as they danced and frowned at his words. “She never did that.”

He swung her around and then said, “No, she said she was grateful I came back for your sanity.”

“That's the truth.”

He squeezed her. “I like her. I guess nothing is changed. He doesn't dance.”

She whispered, “Or even sleep with her.”

“She's a delightfully bright woman.”

“I worry about her safety living with him.”

“Some women will stay no matter.”

She agreed. “Your friend that was murdered did, didn't she?”

He nodded. If Marla had divorced her husband she'd be there with him at this dance. They walked outside to get some air.

By the blazing bonfire, a fistfight broke out. Chet told her to stay there and rushed down to stop them. The two men were throwing fists at each other. Neither looked familiar as he ripped the first man backward and then slammed his flat hand in the other man's chest.

“Stop this. This is no way to act with children and women here.”

Both looked numb.

“Who the hell are you?” The second man wiped the blood from his nose on the back of his hand.

The other man looked bleary-eyed and shaken. “That son of a bitch started it.”

“I don't care who started it. If you can't act decent, go home. This is a family deal, not a saloon.”

“Where do you come off from?” Bloody Nose asked.

“I ranch and live here. My name's Byrnes and if I don't stop you someone else will.”

“I ain't through—”

Chet whirled around and gave him a fist under the jaw that came from his knees. The man fell on his back and didn't move for a minute

Hands on his hips, Chet waited for him to recover. “Had enough?”

Shaken, the flattened man nodded.

“Now everyone get back to minding their own business.”

Ranchmen came through the crowd. Busby in his cracked voice said, “He won't forget that for a while. We got here too late to stop it.”

“It's over.” Chet rubbed his sore hand in the other. Marge was at his side looking concerned.

“Your hand hurt?” she asked.

He shook his head and spoke to some of the men who thanked him.

She didn't press him any more.

“Thanks, Chet,” CXT ranch owner Allen Gates said. Chet shook his sore hand with him and they went on.

Thomas Hanager did too. His fifteen-year-old daughter Caylin at his side smiled. She said, “Whew, don't get mad at me!”

“I won't,” he said, and started to leave with Marge at his side.

“You want to soak it?” Marge asked under her breath as they went back toward the schoolhouse.

“No. I'll be fine.”

“Let's go to the tent and sit down.”

“All right,” he agreed.

Susie came by. “What happened?”

“Your brother simply settled a fight.”

She nodded flatly at Marge. “He's good at that.”

“Just stupidity,” he said. “You having fun?”

“I am. Glad you made me come.”

“Well, I'm fine. Go back to dancing.”

“Keep him out of trouble,” she said to Marge.

“I'll try.”

When Susie started back, she was escorted by Sarge to the schoolhouse. If you were part of his outfit you were in good hands, he decided. He and Marge ambled over to the tent out under the stars. The interior was lighted and they pulled two folding canvas chairs together. She examined his knuckles again.

“They're swelling,” she said.

“It will be sore. I'll live.”

She leaned in and kissed him. “I won't tell you not to be yourself. But I can worry about it.”

“That's your business. I have some strong feelings and fighting has no place at a family affair.”

“I know, and lots of folks told me you and your men were enforcing it. That's good.” She moved over to sit on his lap and in the exchange the chair fell over and spilled them out on the ground. Laughing, they untangled and kissed each other seated on their butts.

“That did not work.”

He laughed. “Stay here.”

“All right.”

Her humor pleased him. With his finger on her lip, he stopped her apology with his finger. “I thought it was funny.”

“What project is on the top of your list for next week?”

“Tom and I are going to check the range and cattle.”

“So I won't see you all week?”

“No, I'll be there one day if you are going to be home.”

“I'll be home all week if you are coming one of them.”

“I'll brush you off. We better get back.”

“I'd sit here the rest of the night with you and talk.”

He pulled on her arm. When she stood, he went to brushing the dry grass off the back of her dress. They went back to the dance laughing and danced together for several songs. They parted after midnight, him promising to visit her later in the next week.

JD had arrived late. They'd had a wagon breakdown coming off the mountain, but he and the other drivers were fine, which relieved him a lot. He noticed him dancing with Kay. And Susie danced several more times with Tom Hanager. They made a nice couple.

Afterward, Chet rode back with the crew, taking a lot of teasing about his gray horse choice. The spirited horse pleased him and he took their words as funny.

Wiley drove Susie home in the buckboard, busting with pride. Dismounted at the ranch, one of the hands took his gray to put up and the two walked to the house.

“Those cowboys are nice guys,” Susie said. “Tell me about Tom Hanager?”

He shook his head. “I don't know much. Marge knows him. She introduced him to me. He has a daughter Caylin. I think he owns a ranch down the river. Why?”

“I don't know. He was very polite. How old is he?”

“Old as I am? Are you interested in him?”

She nodded. “We will see what we will see.”

“Did you invite them out to eat with us some night?”

She frowned before going in the house. “No. I barely know him.”

“I'm sorry.” He held his hands up and she shook her head. “Do you want me to invite them over?”

“I'll let you know.”

May was up waiting like he figured. He kissed her on the forehead and then left them to talk like sisters. He wished he'd gone home with Marge—but that wouldn't work every time. Undressed, he climbed in bed and fell asleep fast.