Ambush Valley (12 page)

“You doing all right today?” he asked the youth.

“Yes, sir.” Then he very carefully turned the team around and took them around back.

“Have you had lunch?” Monica asked him from the doorway.

“No, ma'am. Where is the boss lady?”

“Upstairs changing.”

“So you're the greeting committee?”

She laughed. “I am all you get. We will have a late lunch shortly.”

“Don't fuss over me.”

“Oh, yes, you are very important to us.”

“I'll read the newspaper,” he said. “Don't worry about me.”

“That is not my orders,” she said, leading him inside the house by the arm. They both laughed.

“I'm coming,” Marge said, brushing her hair, standing at the top of the stairs.

“Rest easy. I'm fine.” He undid his gun belt and hung his hat over it on the wall pegs.

Over the meal he told them about the attempted robbery at Camp Verde. Marge shook her head at him. “You need to stay out of those things, you'll get yourself hurt.”

“Aw, Marge, you can't stand by and not do the right thing.”

Laughing at his response, she passed him a bowl of mashed potatoes. “I know you have this little man in your brain who kicks you every time to get involved.”

“Maybe I should fire him.”

She winked and shook her head. “You won't listen to me anyway. How is the ranch operation going?”

“Slow but we are hurrying.” He made sure they were alone and turned back to his food. “Tell me about Tom Hanager.”

“Is something wrong?”

“No, I just wondered what happened to his wife?”

Marge stopped eating. “His wife left him.”

“Oh, I thought he was a widower.”

“He is a very nice man and he has tried hard to be a good parent. But his wife ran off with another man. It's been five or so years ago.”

“I can see that. Him and his daughter are close.”

“She's his life.”

“Were they divorced?”

“I don't think so. She ran off with some man I did not know and no one knows where she went, or at least that is what I understand. Why do you ask?”

“I wondered if he had any interest in anyone?”

“No. But he's a straight shooter in my opinion. He was very shaken when his wife left him.”

“He ranches?”

“Yes. I would say he's successful. His neighbors like him.”

“Thanks.”

“Any time. Monica has some pie for dessert. Do you want some?”

“Sure.”

“You will excuse me for not eating some of it?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Marge, he wants some pie.”

“Coming.”

The large slice of apple raisin with a heavy scent of cinnamon drew the salvia in his mouth. “Thanks. That looks great.”

Marge beamed, gathering their dishes.

He savored the pie, bite by bite. Then they went in the living room and visited some more, seated together on the couch. Her father was coming home. His business in California was about over, he'd said in a letter.

That would complicate things about their arrangement. But they'd work out something, he felt certain.

Monday began the next week when Ono about threw him. He loved that gray bucking horse, but he knew the judges, his two young nephews on the corral fence, enjoyed the show the gelding gave them. Settled down on the road to town, Chet let him use up some of his energy in a short lope.

When he saw three men on horseback coming from Camp Verde on the road that went west, he reined him up to stop and talk to them. They had two packhorses loaded down, obviously going somewhere.

“Morning,” he said, sitting on the gray who was still upset enough to bob his head, clunk the bit on his teeth, and shift around some under him.

“Morning,” the hard-eyed man who looked in charge of things said.

“My name's Byrnes, Chet—I own the Quarter Circle Z ranch.”

“Loftin's mine, that's Bart and Kyle. We work for the Hartley brothers over in Mayer. We're going to set up a cow camp up on the Verde. We've got two thousand head of cattle coming.”

“Hold up just a minute. I own the Perkins ranch. It's deeded land. So keep on riding to Sycamore Canyon.”

“I guess we'll set up where we want to.”

“No, you won't. That land west of here is deeded land to where Sycamore Canyon flows into the Verde. If you want those cattle in there you can drive them up on the rim and come off that way into that back country.”

Loftin frowned. “Them ain't my orders.”

“Well, you're going to change them. I'm not standing for you to drive that herd through my ranch. You better ride back to Mayer and tell your bosses that they need a new plan.”

“I guess you haven't met my bosses yet.” Loftin forced a smile. “You may not know them but they're going to drive their cattle into that country I can assure you.”

“Turn your butts around. I'm saying you can't go in there on my land even to get to it.”

“You threatening us.”

“No, I'm telling you. Don't ride across my land or even try. Now that's clear enough, isn't it?”

“Mister I can tell that you're new here. No one tells the Hartley outfit where they can ride and can't.”

Chet's eyes narrowed a notch. “Then it's time they found someone who stands up to them. Turn your butts around and go back to Mayer. Just because it isn't fenced doesn't mean it's free range.”

“Mister, do you like living?”

“Yes, I do, but let me tell you something. I've whipped tougher men than you've got here over less than this trespassing. Tell them brothers I said they ain't coming through here with that many range cattle. The forage won't handle them and I won't stand for it.”

“Come on, boys. When Carl gets through with this rebel son of a bitch, he'll be begging for us to come though here.”

“Loftin!” Chet shouted at him. “The next time you call me a son of a bitch, you better have your pistol cocked, 'cause I'm sending you straight to hell. Consider yourself lucky to be alive. Next time you won't get it all out of your mouth before I blow the daylights out of you.”

The man hunched up and spurred his horse into a run to get away. The other boy looked fear-filled and the one leading the packhorses about jerked off his horse's head because they balked. Chet charged Ono at the two and the packhorses left ahead of the boy leading them. Pots and pans clanging, the two packhorses passed the two young riders.

Chet wheeled his gelding around and rode for the ranch headquarters. He needed to find Tom and warn the crew that the Hartleys had thrown down the glove. There would be less sleep on the Quarter Circle Z. If those brothers thought they were tough they had not met the Byrnes family. They knew how to fight—what was left of them.

“What's wrong?” Susie asked when he slid the gray to a stop on his heels at the hitch rack.

“You heard me mention the Hartley bunch?” He dismounted and wrapped his reins on the worn rail. “Well. I just sent their advance party packing. They wanted to drive two thousand damn head of cattle up on the Sycamore Creek. That's west of the Perkins ranch we bought as part of this property. There isn't enough feed up there for that many cattle—they'd eat the country into the ground in a year. I told them it would be over my dead body before they drove those cattle in over our land.”

“Who was it?” Susie asked when his aunt and May came out on the porch to hear his story. Tom's wife Millie joined them.

“Some foreman named Loftin.”

“He's shot a few men,” Millie said and shook her head. “Those Hartleys are not nice either. Did he threaten you?”

“He called me a son of a bitch and I told him to have his hand full of a gun butt next time, 'cause I was killing him.”

“Well, get down and come inside. You're all wrought up, I can see that,” Susie said.

“Is Tom coming in today for lunch?” he asked, loosening the girth on the gray.

“He's supposed to,” Millie said.

“It can wait till evening. I may ride in and talk to Marge's father. He's supposed to be back this week. And I guess before it becomes full blown I better go talk to Sims.”

“Just be careful,” Susie said.

“When Tom comes in tell him to warn the crew. We need to go loaded for bear about this deal.” He jerked up the girth, untied the horse and swung in the saddle. “I guess, ladies, we can't avoid controversy anywhere.”

“We can hold the fort,” Susie said, and they waved good-bye.

In three hours he was at Marge's house. He found her busy using her jumping horse to complete the range of fences to fly over. When she realized he was there she rode over to the fence. “What's wrong?”

“One of the Hartleys' foremen came riding up the road to my place, telling me they were going to set up camp on the Perkins place to receive two thousand cattle they were driving in.”

“That's deeded land?”

“Yes.”

She slipped off the English saddle on her horse and strode over to the wooden fence. “He can't do that.”

“Loftin says they plan to do that, like it or not.”

“Did he threaten you?”

“He called me a son of a bitch and I told him next time he called me that he better have a gun in hand and cocked, 'cause I planned to shoot him.”

She gave the reins to the Mexican boy and he took him. In her English boots she climbed over the fence and he helped her down. “You looked good jumping him. He's came a long ways, since last year.”

“Glad you noticed.” She kissed him—he couldn't hardly get used to her height. She was right there in his face—and a neat lady as well. “What will you do?”

“Go talk to Sheriff Sims. If they try to cross my property there will be bad blood spilled and some lives lost.”

“Let me change. I won't be long and I can go with you.”

“Aw, you have things to do.”

“No, nothing any more important than you are to me.”

“Fine. I'll hook up the team.”

“No, let Jesus do it. He can and will do a good job. I want him to be a smart boy who can do anything. He's learning how to shoe horses now too. He has brains; all he needs is an education in these things. I will have a great horse trainer in him some day.”

“I'll ask Jesus to do it then.”

She looked up at the house from the foot of the stairs. They kissed again and she ran up them to go change, and he started off to find her horseman.

“Until later,” she said after him, and went inside.

 

 

Sims's office always was neat. He had posters and papers in neat piles. There was nothing out of place. The westerly afternoon sun shone in the room on that side of the courthouse and from there he could look down on Whiskey Row. The Palace Saloon and all the others were strung out for a block in close proximity to the county jail so that drunks could quickly be handled.

Sheriff Sims was in his forties and looked more like a banker than a lawman. He wore a flat brim western hat and a short evenly trimmed mustache. He was a thin built man and looked comfortable in the wheelback desk chair that was so well oiled it never creaked. He was a man who left nothing to chance. In the saddle he looked too stiff to Chet and it was not the man's place. He belonged in this neat room on the southwest side of the Yavapai courthouse.

Sims glanced up and rose to greet Marge when she came in the office first.

“How are you, Margaret? Hi Chet Byrnes, you two have a seat. What can I do for you?”

“I came to explain about a serious situation that has arisen, if you have the time?”

“First I want to thank you for your help at the scene of the store robbery at Camp Verde Sunday. That second outlaw is going to live. Those men from out there in the valley said it was your level head that saved the young woman's life he held for a hostage. I've been so busy I planned to thank you sooner for your handling of this mess. I've been working on so many cases, getting jurors to sit on the trials, I hadn't had time to send you word about how much I appreciated your efforts.”

“No problem. This morning I stopped a man called Loftin who works for the Hartley brothers over in Mayer. He told me that he was setting up a cow camp on my deeded property and moving two thousand head of cattle in that country. I told him he would have to drive them up on the rim and then off down into that Sycamore Creek country beyond the deeded land. There is no way, except with several line riders, could I keep that many cattle off my deeded land; and they'd eat us out of house and home in six months.”

Sims sat back in the well-oiled chair and tented his fingers. “I am certain the Hartley brothers have no wish to disturb your private land rights. The man may simply be talking about something much less than he described to you.”

“Maybe you better advise them. I won't stand for trespassing on my ranch to send cattle up there to eat out the grass, then push their way down on my land. I will meet them with force if they even try.”

“Oh, Chet, why can't all of us sit down and discuss this matter?”

“The talking is over for my part. It got over when Loftin told me he'd show me and called me a son of a bitch. I told him that he ever did that again, I'd shoot his head off. Now do I need a lawyer to get an injunction against them or can you talk them out of it?”

“Oh, there is no need in all that. I'll go over and talk with Carl and Willis. They're practical businessmen and should see you can't simply drive cattle over a man's place—not that many anyway.”

“I believe they'll try it. I'm going over after this meeting to talk to Margaret's family lawyer about preparing a case for court.”

Sims shook his head. “No need in paying a lawyer. I will go see them and straighten the matter out.”

“Thank you. But I'll file the case anyway. I intend to enforce my rights. They will not cross Quarter Circle Z land to get their cattle up there. They can take them up on the rim and go in up there and I can't stop them.”

“That's nearly two hundred miles around. But you know how far it is.”

“I do but that's their problem.”

“Oh, yes, I agree. Rest easy a few days and let me work this out.”

“I can tell you now they won't drive their stock across an acre of my land.”

“I'll try to handle it.”

“Good.” He rose and shook the man's hand. “I appreciate your consideration.”

Sims nodded. “I will go see them this week.”

“Very good.”

Once outside in the courthouse yard, she asked him, “Do you think he can talk them out of it?”

“No. Where is this lawyer Sam Eagan?”

“Across the street on the east side of the square.”

“Let's talk to the man.”

Sam Eagan was a short man in a nice tailored suit. His walnut desk was broad and smooth. He smiled at Marge and shook Chet's hand, offering them seats. A man in his fifties, he had a clear, loud voice that they must have taught him years earlier in law school.

Egan sounded articulate in discussing the territorial law. He could ask the court for a holding writ that the brothers could not trespass or drive their livestock over his property. Then he explained more about the law, and Chet agreed.

“They're big bluffers and I understand that they have run over many people. I will enforce the no-trespassing writ with my men if necessary,” Chet said.

“If we get this order from the court and they do trespass they will be subject to arrest for violation of the court's orders. Serious business, especially in this jurisdiction.”

Chet thanked the man and told him to proceed.

They left Eagan and started back to Marge's ranch in her rig.

“Been a long day for you,” she said, taking off her straw hat and letting the afternoon wind cool her face and her hair.

“It's been a nice day for me to have you along. You were the brightest point in my day. I hate trouble but by damn, I do get mad when people challenge things like this. And I take them personally.”

“You know what I think about the Hartleys. I am with you all the way. Other ranchers will be too.”

“Good. We can go to hell together.”

She pecked him on the cheek and laughed. “If I have to do that to have you, turn the heat up.”

They both chuckled. At her house, he bowed out of staying overnight with her. Though he wanted to badly, he worried he needed to prepare his crew. Law or lawyer, he was going to be ready for them should both fail. He still could see that man with the dark eyes, black hair, and mustache calling him an SOB. He'd see who that was before this matter was over.