A Good Day To Kill (34 page)

After unloading things at the house, Cole gave the place a thorough going over.

“Did you ask her about this place?” Chet asked.

“We talked a lot about it. Since the ranch women cleaned the house, it looks pretty damn nice. But I worry because we are gone so much. Oh, she says she's not afraid, but there ain't anyone close to here.”

“Hey, it isn't necessary. I just thought I'd offer.”

“Thanks, Chet. I'll tell her to stay in town.”

“That's fine. I hope this easy weather holds until we get the branding completed.”

“You and me both.”

His men helped set up his kitchen and get ready to cook. Jesus took a bedroom for himself and got the large potbellied stove ready to fire up for that night. Chet planned to stay and get ready for the next day when the crew would be coming.

Hampt's cowboys drove a herd of using horses over and corralled them. There was hay already set up there for them and water in the pens. They paused to talk and drink some of Jesus's coffee. Chet felt proud looking over things from the front porch. This place would be a good addition to the family empire.

Cole took him home in the wagon and said he'd be back for him Monday morning early.

“I'll ride a horse over there then.”

“You better get that horse handler to ride him some tomorrow. You aren't ready for a bucking session.”

On Sunday, he went to church with his wife. The sky was clear and by midday the temperature rose into the sixties.

Marge beamed at having him along as they drove home after services. “It's great to have you to show off.”

“You don't have much.” He chuckled.

“Oh, yes, I do. People all over Arizona look up to you, for all your hard work to make this a better place to live.”

“We try.”

“A lot more than that.”

“I'm proud of our marriage and you. The boy is an extra gift. If my foot keeps healing, after this branding, I need to go down south to help JD and Roamer.”

“I know there are things you have to manage.”

He checked the team some going downhill. “Things in the future look to be in good shape to make money with our ranches. We've been real lucky to be here.”

She hugged his arm. “We're lucky to have each other.”

“Amen to that.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek.

He met Cole at dawn the next morning. He'd told Marge he was taking his bedroll and staying over there for a few nights. They kissed and he climbed in the saddle on one of his roan horses. He never even switched his tail, and Chet saluted Jimenez. “Thanks.”

The young man smiled and told him to have a good day.

According to Jesus, Hampt's teams had left by the time they arrived. Cole went on to find one of the crews to help them round up cattle. Chet remained at the headquarters and helped Jesus get ready for the evening meal.

By noon, one outfit drove in a large herd of mixed cattle and calves. There was lots of bawling and dust boiling up in the corrals when they swung the gate shut.

Cole came in with them and swung down. “It's going to be a long winter. Hampt's going to have to start feeding them or many of them won't make spring.”

“Looks like they aren't fattening well on the dust,” Chet said.

Cole nodded in agreement.

They had a lot of cattle in the pens by midafternoon. Hampt sent two men to go get loads of hay. When they finished branding them, he planned to start haying them, to keep them separate from the range cattle.

Branding started the next morning, and the hay arrived. The plan was to not turn the cattle out until all were branded, and then move them to a tank with lots of water and feed them. That way, they'd stay away from the pens and not get mixed with the unbranded ones.

“We can't keep them all apart,” Hampt said. “But we'll be able to do that by next year.”

Chet nodded. His foot ached some from being on it so much, but things went well this first day. He was in the kitchen helping Jesus do the final things before serving supper.

“Hey,” a ranch hand said. “Someone is driving a buckboard out here like he's on fire.”

Chet frowned and Jesus dried his hands to join him to see who was coming.

He recognized Raphael driving as he swung the buckboard around. He halted the lathered team and jumped down. Chet knew from the look on his face that he brought bad news.

“I am so sorry, señor . . .” He huffed for his breath. “I am a bearer of such bad news.”

“What has happened?”

“Your wife . . . she is dead. She had wreck jumping her horse, and she is gone. Nothing we could do.”

Chet felt like he'd been kicked in the stomach by a mule. Marge, gone? It couldn't be. He felt frozen, unable to move or think. Then he looked at Raphael.

Tears poured down his foreman's face, and he looked so sad, Chet reached out and hugged him. “I know you did all you could for her, my friend.”

“Oh, we tried everything.”

“How is Monica?”

“You know how she loved your wife. She went to her room and closed the door. My wife wanted to be with her, but she refused her help. They went for the
padre
. My whole family—the whole ranch, is in tears.”

“Come inside and sit down.”

“What can we do?” Cole asked him.

“Cool out that team he drove in.”

“I'll tend to that.”

“Good.” He patted the pain-faced Hampt on the shoulder. “Then you better go tell May.”

“Oh, hell, Chet. I hate this for you.”

“She was . . . doing what she loved.”

“Where is Art?” he asked, recalling one of the young men's name.

“Here, boss man.”

“We need to send word to Tom, Robert, Susie and Sarge, and Reg and Lucie, I guess.”

“I can handle that. Tom will know what to do.”

“Good. Get to riding, but be careful. You hear me?” The cowboy stopped and told him he would. Then he went on.

The room was full of grieving faces. He went out and made the sobbing Raphael come in and sit on a chair.

Jesus shook his head as if unable to talk. “We better eat.”

Chet agreed. “Everyone get a plate. I know how hard this is on us, but she would want you to eat.”

Cole was back to report on the team. “Those horses are run in the ground. You want to ride back?”

“Yes.” He shook Raphael's shoulder. “Eat something. We'll get you a horse to ride back with us.”

“
Si
.”

He drew a deep breath, and at that moment, the emotional shock really struck him. He was alone in the world. The greatest treasure in his life wouldn't be there when he arrived home. Had he put the ranch ahead of her? No, she knew why he went to the branding camp. Damn, should he have sold those jumpers? No way she would have let him do that. What would he do without her? Lose his mind.

He'd heard the phrase many times.
The long ride home
. With a bloody, sinking sundown facing them, Cole, Jesus, and Raphael accompanied him on the ride back to the ranch. The situation reminded him of bringing his nephew Heck's body back to the Black Canyon road. Marge came like an angel that night with her carriage and saved his sanity. Sure, he knew she wanted him, but it wasn't a selfish thing for her to do. She really cared and did all she could for him, with no guarantee that on his return from Texas he wouldn't bring a bride back.

Memories flooded his mind—Susie saying Marge wouldn't go camping with him because she was educated and had been to finishing school—their camping honeymoon up on the rim—her shining face when she handed him their son.

Damn. He swallowed hard. This would be a damn long, sad time to get through. And poor Adam would never know his mother and all her plans for him—even college.
Marge, I'm going to have a tough time facing life without you.

 

 

He realized the enormity of the entire ranch's loss when he saw it written on the ranch crew's faces. He had to hug several wives, and even men, when he dismounted. Despite the falling temperatures, they were around bonfires. The priest was there and came forward to meet him.

“My son, this is a very bad time for us to meet.”

“No, Father. I'm so pleased to meet you. We need your strength to help my people get through this hard time.”

The priest crossed himself. “You are most generous. I see the strength in you that my people have told me about. May God be with you, my son.”

“I'm sure he will have to be. I must go now and check on my son and my people in the house. If I can ever repay you, come see me.”

“Yes.” He made the blessing sign at him and then nodded.

He entered the house. Too quiet. “Monica?”

No answer.

“She is in her room,” Rhea said, rocking his son in her arms and coming from the living room.

“He doing alright?”

“He is much better.”

“Thanks, I will count on you a lot in the days ahead.”

“I understand. Your wife was a wonderful woman.”

“Yes, the most.” He looked at his son wrapped in the blankets. “I'll tell you all about her someday, son.”

Then he looked up at the nanny. “Did they take her away?”

“Yes, the funeral man did that.”

“Thank God. There'll be lots of sadness in the next few days. Let's try to keep it as usual for the baby.”

“Oh, I will try hard to do this.”

“I trust you, Rhea. You need any help, just let me know.”

“I will, señor.”

“Good. I need to comfort Monica now.”

Rhea nodded quickly. “It has hurt her bad.”

“I can imagine.”

He rapped on her door and Monica opened it with a tear-streaked face. With a loud, “Oh,” she fell into his arms. “What will we do without her, Chet?”

“I don't know, Monica. But we must be strong. This can't scar our lives. She wouldn't want us to do that or let it happen. In memory of her, we have to show strong faces.”

She nodded. Then she dried her eyes on a cloth. “You are right, but, oh, I will miss her.”

“We all will. Someone is at the back door. I'll go see about them.”

“You have supper?”

“Yes, Jesus fed me over there. Excuse me.”

He'd wanted some time to grieve in private, but Jenn, Bonnie, and Valerie were all at his back door. Wet faced, they all hugged him and murmured condolences. Cole stood on the porch behind them and held up his hands as if in surrender.

Tom and Millie arrived shortly after.

“I sent word to Reg and Lucie, as well as Susie and Sarge. My rider is going north and will tell Robert and his wife,” Cole said. “Word will also be taken to Oak Creek, too.”

Chet thanked him and led them into the living room.

Monica had dried her tears and was making coffee and treats. Best thing for her—keep busy.

“Did anyone wire the Force?” asked Tom.

Cole said, “I wired Tubac and JD.”

“Thanks.”

“How did she fall?” Bonnie asked.

“Raphael told us he thought maybe the horse broke a bone in his back leg when attempting the jump and fell over on her. It was obvious to poor Jimenez that she was dead when he reached her.”

“Oh, my God,” Bonnie cried out. “She was such a great lady.” Then she went into tears, comforted by the others.

They made beds eventually for everyone and Chet slept on the couch downstairs. He woke early and went in the kitchen after stoking the big fireplace.

“Do you have enough food for all these folks?”

A much improved Monica nodded and said she did.

“That's good. You are going to be busy.”

“Yes. She would have expected me to do it, too.”

He hugged her. “Yes, she'd want us to be brave. Even if we don't feel like that inside.”

“She was a very intelligent lady.”

“I forgot. I need to wire her father down in Phoenix. Damn, I knew I'd forgotten someone.”

“He will be upset, too.”

Chet closed his eyes. “He may be, but he knew how much she loved jumpers and he couldn't have stopped her from doing it. She gave it up to have my son, but she wouldn't quit for anything else.”

“Write the wire,” Monica said. “I will have a boy take it to the telegraph office.”

“Boy, we survivors have lots to think about.”

“Yes. I have coffee. You can pour some.”

“I imagine my sister will be here next.” He filled a cup of the fragrant-smelling brew.

“She won't take it any better than the rest of us.”

“I suppose I better make some arrangements today. If I can wait until Thursday, maybe Reg and Lucie will be here.”

“That's quite a wait.”

“I know, but things like distance make it necessary.”

Jenn came in the kitchen. “What can we do?”

He smiled. “Ask Monica.”

Rhea arrived behind the girls, handed Bonnie the boy, and went to fix his bottle.

“Could I stay and be your assistant?” Bonnie asked her, swinging him around.

“Ask Chet. He's my boss.”

Everyone laughed and it was good to hear them. Monica fixed his plate. Jenn served him and patted his back. “Thanks. You are a real rock for all of us.”

He turned his hands up. “What did I do?”

“Eat, you will need your strength,” Jenn said, motherly like.

He busied himself eating the food set before him, swallowing around the lump in his throat as best he could, and then excused himself to write the wire for her father. Damn, this part would be real hard.

He finished it and Monica went to the back door and called to a youth. She gave him orders in Spanish and then took money from her pocket for him to pay for it.

“Hey, I can do that.”

“No. This is mine.”

No argument with her. Cole came downstairs.

“Eat. We have to go to town,” Chet said to him.

“I can—”

“I'll get the horses saddled. You eat.”

“Yes, sir.” Cole smiled and took a seat.

Chet went to the horse corral and met with Jimenez. “Saddle us two horses. One for me, and one for Cole. We must go to town.”

“
Si, señor
.”

“I can help.”

“No. I will have them ready shortly, huh?”

“Shortly is fine.”

“Señor? You know if I could have caught and saved her, I would have been there.”

He swallowed and nodded. “I know that, and I don't blame you. I know she was your friend and companion. You did so much for her.” When he couldn't find any more words, he hugged the lanky youth. “Jimenez, God must have needed her. She's with him. I'm so proud of you, and how hard you work for us. Don't blame yourself. It just happened, an accident, and remember how much she enjoyed those horses.”

“I know this is hard on you, señor. But, thank you. I was worried people would think I should have done more.”

Chet shook his head. So far he had not cried—so far. “We will get through this—somehow.”

Cole came out of the house. Buttoning his coat and heading for their horses, he waved at Jimenez and thanked him for saddling them. Chet nodded and mounted his own horse.

“What do we have to do?” Cole asked.

“I guess plan the funeral. I only did this once before with Heck, when the stagecoach robbers murdered him, and Marge helped me then. She helped me through all this.”

“You decided where you will bury her?”

“No.”

Cole reached over and squeezed his arm. “I didn't ask that to make you feel bad.”

Chet's eyes focused on the blue skies way over Preskitt, and nodded. “I know where you come from, Cole. For the last almost two years, I had a perfect woman to handle things like this. To point me where to go. Back in Texas, Susie did that for me. I worried about business and handled that part. Then I had Marge to handle other things, while I took care of the ranches. I can't expect anyone else to do what has to be done today. This is my problem. If I fall out today, though, you'll need to take the lead. I fear I may fail at this task.”

“No problem. We should have brought my mother-in-law—she'd have got this done.”

“She would be a lifesaver, but this is really my burden.”

“I can back you.”

“Good.”

“After you make the decisions, then we need to start informing folks when we plan to hold it. They will want to know, so they can make plans. The first choice you must make is where to bury her—on the ranch, or in her church's cemetery?” Cole said.

“You buried Heck down on the Verde Ranch. But I think you need to bury her on the ranch up here or at the church.”

“I don't want to separate her from the ranch, but in time, her being in the church cemetery for eternity might be best. She loved the church. I agree. Good thinking. Eternity is a long time.”

“That funeral director is going to walk you through it. I went back to Texas when my mother died and helped Dad. I rode two horses to death to get there. But I helped him.”

“I want May to sing a hymn and then have a short service and thank everyone.”

“You can get that done your way. Marge have a special dress?”

“I'll let the women choose it.”

“Good idea. A coffin will be hard.”

“I figure so.”

They met Lamont Cannon in his office at the funeral home. A young man in his thirties, who acted very subdued during their meeting about the funeral plans. He showed them coffins, and Chet chose one to keep from looking at any more. That completed, he asked Cannon about waiting a few days. “I have people coming from a distance. Can we hold off until Thursday afternoon?”

“The weather is cold, and there's always the icehouse. But I will need her dress today.”

“We'll get it to you this afternoon.”

“Good. Thursday afternoon for the services?”

“Yes. I will have the minister informed and my sister-in-law will sing a hymn.”

Cannon looked concerned. “I doubt the church will hold them all. We can have visitation here on Wednesday night.”

“Thanks. We'll have another of her fine dresses to drape over the casket. We can have the funeral services outside, and make the service at the cemetery short. Cole and I must get back home for the dresses.”

“Thank you.”

They shook the man's hand, then the two rode hard for the ranch. When they reined up in the yard, Jimenez ran outside to meet them.

“Saddle Cole a good horse. He needs to take a package back to town in a hurry.”

“What is wrong?” Jenn shouted from the porch.

“I need her best dress and the second best one wrapped. Mark them. Cole has to take them back to town.”

Jenn turned to face all the women and they went inside in a rush.

“Why two dresses?” Monica asked as she caught his arm going through.

“One to wear. One for draping the casket.”

“Oh. You still alright?”

“Do I look crazy?”

She smiled. “No, you look like you do when you're mad enough to fire everyone.”

“I never get that mad at my people.”

“Sit down. You can't help this dress selection business. There are enough of them to do it right.” She brought a coffeepot. “That boy coming in?”

“He's taking them back tonight. Too much to explain.”

“I wondered if I should feed him.”

“Is May here?”

“Yes. Why?”

“I want May to sing ‘Nearer My God to Thee.'”

“I already asked her for you. She agreed. Was that all right?”

“Very good. I love that girl, but it saved me another crying session.”

“I have the horse saddled,” Cole said, coming in the back door.

“Sit down,” Chet said. “They're choosing the dresses. They'll select the right ones and wrap them. That isn't a man's way of sweep them up and go.”

Cole agreed.

“I have some fried ham and I can make some German potatoes,” Monica said to Cole.

“That will be fine. Don't go to any trouble, Monica.”

“You stay and eat. Those dresses won't melt. They can be a little late.”

Chet chuckled. Monica was in charge again.