Blood on the Verde River (23 page)

“Why in the world did they rustle cattle up here?” the marshal asked.

“They butchered them and sold the meat to freighters on the Marcy Road.”

“I guess that was a good business.”

“Free beef. It should have been.”

“Untaxed liquor is a big problem. If whiskey and spirits don't have a federal seal, they are illegal. I spend more time running down illegal stills than any other part of my job.”

“I never paid any mind to that.”

“Well, there are lots out there as you will discover. Kindly arrest them, bring evidence for the trial, and bust their still. If you like, I can leave handcuffs and a set of keys.”

“I don't know how many I'll find, but if I do I will bring them in. The handcuffs will come in handy. Thanks.”

“Is untaxed liquor a profitable business?” Marge asked with a frown.

“Makes it easier to sell without the two dollar stamp to collect as well.”

Marge shook her head, amused. “Where do you live?”

“My home is in Tucson, but while the courts are in session here, I live in a boardinghouse.”

“Offer him the cabin,” Marge said without hesitation.

“Paul, we have a nice, small cabin out back. Snug. Jesus would keep the fire up when you're gone and you can stay—for free. Monica likes company and she'll feed you.”

“I couldn't do that.”

“Oh yes you can. It's a short ride out here. The crew will care for your horse. You need another, we have plenty.”

“My wife Rita comes up sometimes for a few days and we use a hotel then.”

“No need. We have plenty of buckboards to use when she is here. You need to move out here and stay when you are in Preskitt.”

Paul smiled and looked at Marge. “Since he took the badge, I better do that, huh?”

“Yes. I am glad that is settled.”

Paul changed the subject. “I understand you two have a ranch up at Hackberry, as well.”

“The ranches belong to the family. No problem. I am just the ramrod. But yes, we do.”

“Do you go up there often?”

“Not often enough. But yes, I go. Marge is looking to have a new one next spring so she stays home right now.”

“Whenever you plan to go up there, I would like to accompany you,” Paul said.

“Sure. I'll do it in the next few weeks.”

“If I am not busy in court, let me tag along, since I have invaded your privacy and all.”

“You are part of us. Don't fret,” Marge said.

“Any reason?” Chet asked.

“No, but I have never been up there and would like to see the lay of the land and meet the people.”

“Summertime I love it on top. Being a south Texan, winter I don't care for.”

They all laughed.

After the meal, they showed Paul the cabin and he made plans to move into it, then left. The two were alone again in the house.

“He is a nice man,” Marge said.

Chet unpinned the badge and slipped it into his vest pocket. “Yes, he is. I don't know if I will ever need this”—he patted the pocket—“but it won't hurt to have it.”

She hugged him, standing before the fireplace. “Oh, it sure won't hurt you to have it.”

“When I was a boy, I wanted to be a Texas Ranger. But before I could be accepted, I had to become the manager of our ranch. I always had something that kept me home when others could ride off and see the world. I couldn't. I was the boss.”

“Well, you've seen a heck of lot out here, and you drove cattle to Kansas, too.”

“Boy, that was headache. Swimming flooded rivers, horse wrecks, stampedes in the night, and gunfights with drunks in Abilene. Indians threatening us for cattle to eat. I must have been seventeen that first year. Flossies all over the place. I wanted to go home. But I sold the herd for a fair price and had thirty turn-back cattle. That made me mad. I sold them for five bucks a head to some pig famers and was lucky to get that for them.

“I had over a hundred thousand dollars from the sale. That was at seventy bucks a head. Some of it belonged to our neighbors who'd sent their cattle along with me.”

“Did you pack it back?”

“Heavens no. I had Wells Fargo take it to San Antonio and put it in the bank there. When we got back, I paid the neighbors off right away and they all about died considering the amount of money they got for their part. I paid off the bank loan and still had lots of money. That was the start of building the ranch. I made three more drives, then sent my brother to Abilene and the Reynolds killed him. Heck rode night and day back to Texas to get me. That boy was tough for his age.”

She agreed. “I never heard all of the story before. How did you find your way up here? You'd never been here.”

“Joe McCoy—he's the one who set up Abilene and the yards—said to go to the Red River crossing north of Fort Worth and follow the wagon tracks to Jessie Chisholm's trading post on the Canadian River, then follow his tracks to the Salt Fork. He'd had men plow a furrow to Abilene and stack sod as markers. That was the second year of the trail, so there were lots of marks. We always pointed our wagon tongue at the north star each night in case it was foggy or cloudy.”

“Were you ever scared?”

“Mostly about the river crossings. Some of them boys could swim like beavers, but a few, despite what they told me, couldn't swim a lick. I lost two of them and that was a kick in the gut. Boys I knew all my life swept away in muddy water. I rescued two at different crossings, but the next year I made them swim rivers in Texas before I hired them. And still lost another one in a swirl of cattle halfway across the Red River.”

“What about the other drivers? Did they take you serious?”

“I could hit a tin can four out of five times in rapid fire with my old Army .45. Everyone knew that the Kid from Mason County, Texas, was serious.”

“I can imagine you were. Let's go to bed. I love your stories, Marshal Byrnes.” Marge grinned.

Laughing, with his arm over her shoulder, they headed for the stairs.

His story had brought back memories. Back then, those days were tough. He had it made in Arizona with all his family except JD in attendance. Chet said a silent prayer for him, climbing the steps behind his wife.

Mid-November, Chet and Jesus took four packhorses and went up on the rim and made camp with skiff of snow on the ground. They could hear the bull elks bugling when they finished their tent set up and supper project.

“They are calling to us,” Jesus said.

“Have you ever shot one?”

“Oh no. I only saw some running off when we were up here to get those rustlers.”

“Neither have I. I hope we get two big ones. I have seen lots of elk antlers around Preskitt.”

In the morning they rode out, rifles across their laps. They heard bugling and followed the noise about two miles until they found a great open meadow. Quiet as they could, they dismounted, hitched their horses, and crept up on the meadow where a large buck was chasing a cow elk.

Chet used a pine tree for a gun stand, cocked the hammer back softly, and took aim.

The bull turned sideways, testing the air.

The wind was coming in from the north so Chet knew he couldn't smell them. He waited.

The bull turned broadside and attempted to mount the cow. Chet aimed for his heart and the echo of the shot rung out. The bull staggered to his knees and his love interest ran off.

Chet shot him again and he spilled onto his side. He and Jesus clapped each other on the shoulder.

“We got him.”

“
Sí
and he is
mucho
big.”

They walked across the grassy meadow and looked at the buck. Chet cut his throat so he would bleed out. When he rose, Jesus had counted the tines.

“He is a ten point.”

Chet nodded, dreading their job ahead. The animal must weigh 1,200 pounds. They would be hours dressing and skinning him.

Jesus walked back across the meadow to get the horses. When he returned, they worked hard at the job of slaughtering the big elk. The blood dried on their fingers until they were stiff and had to be rinsed in precious water, only to go back to the task over and over. At last it was finished—skinned and gutted. With his nose full of the copper smell and sourness, Chet straightened. “Next time, we'll bring more help.”

“You bet we will.”

“I think one bull is enough, right now.”

“Me, too.”

They hauled the carcass back to camp and hung up the quarters so no bears that might come by could get to the parts. They ate supper and fell into bed early.

In the night, the horse acted up and Chet, in his underwear, got up and took a few shots at some retreating bears.

“Any grizzlies in them?” Jesus asked.

“I couldn't tell. Just bears, is all I could see in the starlight.”

“What now?”

“The horses will warn us. let's sleep.” Chet shoved more cartridges in his chamber. “I doubt they come back.”

But two hours later, the horses woke him again. This time, he stayed in the tent hoping mister bear was close enough to shoot. The stars and moon were out and the open country was silver coated. The bear rose on all fours and sniffed the air. That was his mistake. Chet put a .44/40 in his chest and he fell backward. By then, Chet was standing outside and shot him twice more until he quit growling and clawing on the ground.

His breath coming out in a fog, Jesus said, “He don't look as big as that buck.”

“I don't think so, partner.”

 

 

Late that evening, they reached the Verde Ranch. Sleepy cowboys soon met them and helped unload the packhorses and hung the bear and elk meat.

“That's a big rack,” one of the hands said about the elk antlers.

“He was a big one to skin and slaughter, too,” Jesus told them.

They laughed.

“The bear was not any easier,” Chet said as Susie joined them in the candle lamp light.

“He was a big bull.”

“Jesus and I learned to take more help next time.” He hugged her.

“Come to the house when you finish. I will have supper for both of you.”

“We won't be long,” he promised her and turned to speak to Tom about things on the ranch.

“Nothing is wrong. I think Sarge will leave tomorrow for Gallup and the December delivery. Hampt came by and got his posthole diggers that John made. He wants to see where they need to be made tougher.”

“Hampt is serious about this fencing business.”

Tom smiled. “And most cowboys hate them.”

“He wants a cow-proof meadow to put hay in.”

“Our post and rail system works well enough, but that would be a sure enough way to turn them back.”

“Jesus and I are going to eat some food.”

“Go ahead. We'll handle this. You going to mount the elk head?” Tom asked.

“I hope to. Thanks. Come on, Jesus.” They headed for the house.

Susie had supper almost ready. The biscuits were still in the oven. “You two look bushed.”

“We had enough work. That bull was huge and the bear no small one,” Chet pointed out.

She grinned. “Do I get the bear rug?”

Chet smiled. “Sure. How are you?”

“I am fine. Sarge is going to New Mexico tomorrow. He sent me a note.”

“Tom said Sarge was leaving then for the December delivery and that another herd will up to the Windmill by the time he gets back for the New Year drive.”

“Time goes fast in that business, but the income will make the ranch work, too.”

“Oh, I know. Sarge takes it very serious.”

“What are you going to do next?” she asked.

“I probably need to go see Reg and Lucy. I found two more cowboys who need work. I may ride up there with them next week.”

Susie pulled the biscuits from the oven. “I might like to go see them.”

“Think it over. It is a lot colder up there than down here.”

She rubbed her sleeves. “I know.”

“No word from JD?”

“I haven't got a letter. My sister-in-law got one, didn't she?”

“I suppose he sent it to her to inform all of us of his well-being.”

“Oh, I don't mean to sound mean about it. I love her. I was just put out he didn't write me. I have been his aunt since he was little.”

Chet sipped the coffee. “I can see that. But he didn't write me, either.”

She swept her hair back from her face. “I don't think anything will satisfy me any more.”

“I can tell.” He smiled at her.

They laughed and Jesus smiled.

After her midnight breakfast, they dropped into beds upstairs and slept with no interruptions.

Jesus and Chet woke early to eat more and ride back home. Susie was on the porch to say good-bye. “We've been having some bucking out here”

“Those new horses that Tom bought?” Chet asked.

“Yes, they were supposed to be green broke. I don't think those head slinging broncs were even taught anything, but they are now. Wow. I have been watching. There are some real riders in that crew.”

“Good entertainment, huh?”

“Oh, yes. It has been a long time since you and Reg rode out some green ones back in Texas. I thought they'd kill both of you before it was over.”

“He was about sixteen then and he got good at riding them.”

Chet and Jesus mounted their horses.

“Oh, be careful both of you. You two make a nice team. Take care of him, Jesus.”

“I will, señora.”

They left the ranch for home with one elk hind quarter for Monica, one large elk skin, the head, cape, and antlers, and Susie's bearskin rug to have tanned.

When they arrived, Marge ran out to greet them, dressed warmly against the cold.

“You sure didn't take long to get him.” She hugged Chet's arm as Jesus directed the others how to unload the elk.

“Oh, we got a black bear. too,” Chet said.

“Did you bring any of him home?”

He pointed to the bearskin. “Only his hide and Susie wants it tanned for her house.”

“Good. I am not a fan of bear meat.” Marge shuddered.

“Hey, neither am I, but the cowboys will eat him and lick their lips.”

They walked into the house.

Marge hugged him again. “I am glad you are home. Water is heating.”

“Wonderful.” He scrubbed his whisker stubble with his palm. “And a shave.”

“I can do that,” She guided him into the backroom. “Anything else happen?”

“No. Sarge left for New Mexico today. Tom has the next herd ready to drive up there to the Windmill when they get back.”

“That is going smoothly, isn't it?”

“Yes, very smooth.”

“How is Susie?” Marge asked.

“She acts like an ant. Can't be still.”

“Maybe I should invite her to come here.”

Chet shrugged. “Whatever. She is as restless as I ever saw her.”

“Monica says it will snow again. She gets stiffer when the storms start for here.”

“It might. I have some business in Preskitt tomorrow. You want to come along?”

“Sure, if there isn't a blizzard.”

He laughed and hugged her. “I bet it won't snow tomorrow.”

“I won't bet. The water may be warm enough now for you to take a bath.”

“Good. Let's get that over with.” He followed her out, already thinking of what business he'd find out the next day. Bo even might have the ranch deal pending.

Marge rode with Chet in the buckboard, wrapped under blankets to stay warm. The team moved out sharply and in no time they were in town. He left her at the dress shop and she said if he was over an hour she'd be at the mercantile.

He went on to Bo's office and found the two men busy working on papers.

“Any news?”

Bo looked up. “No. It's still in court to see who gets the ranch. I suggested in a letter to both parties that they should put you in charge of the ranch until it was settled. I have not heard back from them.”

“Good.”

“I heard from a man who has a gold claim at Horse Thief basin in the Crown King region. He says he has the mother lode and needs a partner with money to develop it.”

Chet frowned. “I know nothing about mining.”

“What if I get opinions from two experts? You know, he might actually have a mine worth developing.”

“I want to meet face-to-face with each expert, before I advance a penny. All I heard about are failures in that business.”

“Yes, but there are some good ones, too.”

“Get the experts to look at it first.”

Bo nodded. “Yes sir. We have two more homestead deeds we are authenticating in the area of the Hereford herd.”

“Perkins?”

“Yes, both one-sixty. And on the river according to the owners.”

“High priced?”

“No, ten an acre will buy one and the other we can get for seven.”

“Buy them. We will need that private land some day.”

That business taken care of, Bo asked, “How is the cattle sale business?”

“Fine, if the government ever makes good on their paper.”

“I know other federal employees are waiting. Some are discounting it to survive.”

“I am not ready to do that—yet. The money will be available at the bank. You make the time and notify me.”

“Great. We are looking all the time for the opportunity to get some of your money.”

Chet shook his hand and left.

At the bank, he told Tanner about the land purchase and asked about any payment from the government.

Tanner shook his head. No word. He thought it would be after the New Year.

Discouraged, Chet left and went to find his wife. Enough was enough. He wanted to do something—but was not sure what that was. Oh, well, things were secure for the moment. In the store that smelled of spices, sweet grain, and yard goods, he found his wife in a crowd of women.

Something was wrong.

A tall, nicely-dressed woman was crying in their midst.

Marge pulled him close and introduced him. “Betty Lou Scales, this is my husband Chet Byrnes.”

The woman sniffled. “Nice to meet you, sir. I have heard about you. You are quite the helper around here. Many folks speak highly of you.”

“Just another guy.” He tried to dismiss her compliments.

“On, no. More than that. I told your wife and these others that my husband went to Utah two months ago to close a deal on his deceased parent's place. He sent me a letter that he was coming back, but never came home. Leroy was never like that. Then I got this letter in the mail two days ago. Here you may read it.” She handed him the letter.

Underneath, in a different handwriting, was written:

Chet looked up at her and Marge, then shook his head. “Where is Honey Grove?”

“Just across the Arizona line,” Betty Lou said.