Ambush Valley (16 page)

“I think so too.”

He wondered about JD and what he might be into. He was a big boy. He'd have to figure out this deal with Kay by himself. Especially with him at this distance from the main ranch, Susie and Tom together could probably work most things out. He simply hoped he had not left them in a big mess. That situation could have escalated.

When he heard about it, Victor was excited to be going home. He had found him a place with the musicians and he told them all about it.

“Why, Victor, as good as you play, anyone would have you in their band,” Marge said.

“I thought I would never find a place to play.”

“Did you ever go to the dance in Camp Verde?”

“No,
señora
.”

“We'll take you there next time we go.”

“Oh,
gracias
.”

Chet wondered about the Hartley brothers that night. Had they tried anything else? He might need to station someone at the western end of the ranch in a line shack to turn back cattle and keep his own in check. He'd speak to Tom about that when he got home.

They headed home at the middle of the next week. They checked at the sawmill for JD, but his man, Robert Brown, who JD'd left in charge with the horses, said he was still down at the ranch. They were doing fine and didn't need a thing.

“What did you learn?” Marge asked when she joined them.

“JD is still at the ranch.”

“Isn't that strange?”

He mounted up and agreed. “I think we ought to push for the ranch and let Victor bring the packhorses along slower.”

“Fine with me. You better tell Victor.”

He twisted in the saddle. “Victor?”

“
Sí
,
señor?”

“You take your time going home. Marge and I are going to hurry home today.”

“Will you need me there?”

“No, we can handle it. Take care of the horses and camp somewhere tonight before you go down off on the military road to the Verde.”

“Be careful. I enjoyed going along with you two very much.
Señor
, I never laughed so much in all my life. She is a good woman for you.”

He nodded and agreed with him. They set out in a long trot through the pines.

 

 

The sun was setting in the west when they came off the rim. He slowed their descent down so they didn't end up off the steep sides. It was close to midnight by his clock when they reached the ranch. Dogs barking caused some lights to come on. A youth came and took the horses.

“Is Victor all right?” the young man asked.

“Yes, he will be here in the morning. He's fine,” he told the horse handler.

“Is that the honeymooners?” Susie asked from the porch.

“Yes, don't shoot.”

Susie was already hugging her sister-in-law on the steps.

“Is JD here?” he asked.

“He's fine.”

“Is she here?”

“No.” Susie led them inside the house. “Let's go in the kitchen and I can explain it all.”

She stoked up the stove to reheat some coffee. “It all happened fast after you left and I had no way to send you word. Kay and the children came here. Of course I knew they might come and we unloaded them. JD had gone to the rim and I sent word for him to come back. Tom and the crew were ready to meet her husband if he came for her.

“There was no sign of him, and last Tuesday, JD was going to drive her into Preskit to see a lawyer. I told Tom to send two ranch hands with them. Her husband has a bad reputation for getting mad and I felt they needed to be careful. Hampt and Billy Joe went along. They were men could handle guns if it came to a fight.”

Chet agreed and shared a nod with Marge sitting beside him.

“They said they met Floyd Kent on the road in Preskit Valley. Somewhere near Marge's ranch. He'd been drinking and tried to draw his rifle out, cussing all of them. Hampt rode in and jerked it out of his hands and then slapped him over the head with his pistol barrel to shut up his cussing. Kent fell off his horse and the three men carried him off the road. He was unconscious but alive. To be certain he didn't try anything again, Hampt kept the rifle.

“When they got to town they went to the sheriff's office and gave him Kent's rifle and the details. Sims sent a man out there to see about him and they took possession of Kent's rifle. JD and her went to see the lawyer to get the divorce proceedings started. About an hour or so later, the deputy returned and he had found her husband had shot himself when he came to. So she was a free woman.”

“JD is helping her at her place?”

“Yes, and Tom went up and checked on the mill crew. They're fine. He made one of them foreman to take JD's place up there for now.”

“Good. I talked to Robert yesterday.”

He told his sister about the ranch project and she agreed they still might need it.

“Let's go to bed, Marge. We can go see them tomorrow. I need to find Bo, my land agent, also.”

“Thanks for getting us up to date,” Marge said. “We had a very special, wonderful honeymoon.”

Susie shook her head in dismay. “You two are so crazy in love anything would be nice.”

Started up the stairs, he shook his head. “We'll see what you do some day.”

“Only maybe. Good night.”

Marge had ahold of his arm and squeezed it with a smile. They went on upstairs to his room.

Come daylight, he was at Hoot's cowboy chuck, taking his share of ribbing. Eating flapjacks, fried side meat, and some raisin pudding, he knew his men weren't mistreated.

Tom soon joined him and slid in on the bench with a coffee cup in his hand. “You see much country?”

“We did. I think I found a ranch northeast of Hackberry as well. I'm going to check it out further. Has some good water and a great place to set up. Lots of grass as well.”

“How big is it?”

“Oh, six sections laid out railroad style from east to west. No improvements even started.”

“I've seen that country before. It gets cold up there.”

“We'll need hay up there too. I've seen some ground to raise it on.”

“You heard about JD and Kay?”

“Susie told me her husband shot himself.”

“Sad deal, but he never was a happy man.”

Chet agreed. “What about the Hartley bunch?”

“Gates held a meeting last week and they say there is no thousand head of cattle between here and Tombstone. Folks have checked. Those cattle about had to come out of Texas. There is some beef coming from there for the markets in Tombstone and the Indian reservations. So it might all be a bluff. Lots of word that they may be in trouble with their bankers.” Tom turned his palms up. “I sent some of the guys to town and to Mayer. Their hands complain, they only pay them in long intervals like three months apart. Not a one knew anything about a thousand head coming. They did say Loftin is holding a grudge against you for turning him back.”

“He can hold it long as he wants. I'm not afraid of him.”

Tom smiled. “I didn't figure you'd lose any sleep over it. I about have a complete count of our mother cows. We need a contract to sell about a hundred and fifty old ones. The Indian agents will buy them. Ryan never culled any of them, but we need to get something out of them instead of letting them die of old age out on the range. Besides they eat our grass and most won't have another calf or else they'd do a poor job of raising it.”

“He never saved many heifers either.”

“Not if he could find a buyer.” Tom swallowed some of his coffee.

Chet shook his head over the man's foolishness. “We also need to move the outside cattle off our ranges.”

“I planned to start in September doing that if that suits you?”

“Fine, we will need to assemble a larger remuda to be ready.”

“Yes, it will take forty or fifty more horses. Do you like that high country?”

“Oh, yes. Plenty of grass up there and we can develop water in enough places to make it a sweet ranch. I like it a lot. Have you heard of any more cows to replace those we need to cull?”

“No.”

“I may need to go over in New Mexico and see what I can find.”

Tom agreed.

There was still lots to do. But he had a good man in place to straighten out the Verde ranch.

He took his bride to her house and agreed he could move up there easier than she could move to the Verde ranch. After leaving her at the house, he drove into Preskit and went looking for Bo Evans, his agent. He wasn't hard to find. The morning Palace bartender sent him to a shack up in a canyon east of town.

At the front door of the about fallen-in raw shack, he reined up the team. He tied the reins off and some woman in a wash-worn dress too tight for her soggy figure and an unkempt mop of brown hair appeared looking blank.

“Tell Bo to get up. I've got a job for him.”

“Who? Who are you?” she asked as he swept past her and went inside the dim light of the ransacked looking room. He saw his man in his gray underwear sitting on the edge of the exposed mattress holding his face in his hands.

“Time to sober up. I need you. You've been lolling around here long enough. Get some clothes on. You're going to town, take a bath, a shave, and a haircut, then get your ass to work. Come on, get dressed.”

“What the hell do you want, Chet Byrnes?”

“If I have to tie you to a post, I'm sobering you up. Now move.”

“Aw. Leave me alone.” He waved at Chet like he was a pesky fly.

“I can take you in your underwear. Get dressed.”

“Oh, God, Byrnes, leave me here.”

“No way, get dressed.”

The woman, if he could call her that, was backed up to a dry sink drinking cheap wine out of an open bottle. “You leaving me, Bo?”

“Ask him,” he said, pulling on his pants. “You're crazy, Chet Byrnes, you know that.”

“If you don't have sense enough to get sober and back to doing business where you belong I'm going to treat you like a dumb kid. Get your boots on.”

“Aw, Bo, don't go. You belong with me, baby.”

“Lady, he's got more to do than you.” Chet slapped a hat from the wall onto Bo's head and shoved him toward the door. This might take more than a simple chewing out, but he wasn't accepting letting Bo destroy himself.

With Bo on the spring seat beside him and the sour stench of his body odors in his nose, Chet turned the buckboard around and headed back for town. He caught him twice by the collar before he pitched off the seat.

“Sober up, damnit.”

After a bath, shave, and haircut, Chet came back from shopping with some new fresh clothing. He took Bo in his new suit to Jenny's and in mid-afternoon the café was near empty.

“I want to hire two men tough enough to keep him sober and keep his nose to working for me.”

Jenny blinked at him then looked critically at Bo. “That's a tall order.”

“I'll rent two rooms in a boardinghouse. Provide room and board to those two men and pay them two dollars a day to keep him sober and at work.”

Jenny's lips creased in a smile. “I have two unemployed customers need that work. When do they start?”

“In an hour. I have a ranch to run.”

She waved a youth over who was sweeping the café floor. “Homer, go find Davis Green and Bud Carter, tell them I have them a real job. For them to get over here at once.”

“Where are they?”

“Probably at the grain mill—they've been stacking ground sacks of grain. This is a real job.” She sent him off.

“Take a seat, we'll eat lunch,” he said to Bo.

“Thank God. I need—need a drink.”

Chet could see he was shaking all over like a leaf. “You have something like a shot of whiskey?” he asked her.

She rushed off to the kitchen and came back with some brown liquor in a glass. Bo downed it with both quaking hands. He gave her back the glass and quietly thanked her.

After they ate a plate, the boy and two burley men arrived covered in cornmeal dust and anxious to hear about the new job. Jenny herded them over to the table where Bo and Chet sat.

“Sit down. That's Chet Byrnes and his problem Bo Evans beside him. Tell them the details,” she said with her arms folded over her ample chest.

“This man is a drunk. I don't want him to drink a thing. I want him to work on the job I have for him to buy me a ranch. I want him to operate an office every day to sell real estate. He is not to drink or party with any ladies of the night. He is to have severe curfew hours and I expect one of you to go everywhere he goes. You two can share a boarding room, next to him. Tie him up if necessary.

“I'll get him an account at Marconi's store if he needs more clothing. But I am paying you two so one of you is with him around the clock.”

“Ah, Chet—”

“You heard me. These guys will tie you up if necessary. You are going to dry out and I mean it.”

“For how long?” Bo moaned.

“I am going to pay them for three months and if you aren't dry by then it goes on.”

He handed him a piece of paper with “Boxley Austin, St. Louis, Missouri” on it. “Find him, and it's the six sections of land he owns near Hackberry, Arizona Territory.”

“If I get that bought for you is my sentence over?”

“No. You will be a sober land agent when we get through with you.”

Bo slapped his forehead with his palm. “I'll die doing this.”