Ambush Valley (8 page)

“Raphael told me about the woman he thought would have shot you.” She went on reading. “He never mentioned what they did to her.”

“No one wanted to talk about it. She probably only told me and him. Then they beat up the next rancher with two of his small children watching them and his wife too.”

“My two men were already dead, weren't they?”

“Yes. Those two would have escaped on that rancher's horses if I hadn't tracked them down. I expected Roamer to show up. All the way over to Rye. The sheriff never sent him. He sent some desk men and anyone knows those kind of posses are good for less than two days. They went back.”

She put down the paper to look at him. “This is why Raphael was so upset when he got back. He said, the deputy would not let him ride to help you. I never understood why? He didn't either, and about cried over it when he got back. Said he knew you needed him.”

“We may never know.”

“No. The deputy told him that you were a fool and were no doubt dead too by that time.”

She folded the paper and replaced it. “Oh, Chet, I am so sorry. You had no one to help you?”

“There are some things that simply fall in your lap and they must be handled. I could not personally let those two killers and rapists ride on for what they'd do again.”

She sat on the sofa and held his head. Her wet eyes made him sad. But she knew what he had to do. Knew what her foreman felt when the deputy told him, “That man's dead.”

“Did you meet the writer?”

“No, I don't think so. There were many people at a distance on the bank of that dry wash. I wanted to scream for them to go away. I would have had to shoot at them to get them to leave. So I ignored them. None came over or even offered a hand. It was a grueling time for me.”

“What did you think?”

“I can't recall I thought of anything but getting it over. That kid was eighteen. He knew better. No telling the rest of his crimes. She said they all four had raped her and took turns after that. She was all alone out there—helpless. Then they pistol whipped that rancher—”

He leaned his head back on the leather couch and closed his eyes.

“This man who wrote this saw you doing it and he thought they deserved it.”

“It might have been a woman.”

“You're right. We will never know.”

“Just as well.”

She leaned over and kissed him softly on the lips. “Poor Raphael, I was mad he couldn't ride on to help you, but he obeyed the law. Didn't he?”

“Yes, he also did what I asked him to do. Shot Mrs. Smart a deer. He did and so did I when I came back so she had some more food.”

“I will listen close to see if I can learn anything else about that matter. You had a right to be mad.”

“I guess Sims was upset, maybe about something else. I'd like to know that too. My infringing on his business, perhaps.” He noticed Monica coming in the room and sat up.

“I am sorry to bother you two,” Monica said. “I have some smoked ham, yams, and fresh green beans. Would that suit you two for supper?”

Marge waited for his answer.

“That would be fine—but I need to—”

Marge pushed him back into the couch with the flat of her hands.

“I'll stay for supper,” he said in defeat.

“Thank you,” Monica said melodically and went back in the kitchen.

Marge looked at the ceiling tile for help. “You can stay here instead of falling off Mingus Mountain in the dark.”

“I have a ranch to run.”

“You won't do anything tonight relevant to your operation that can't wait until the morning when you get there.”

“I smell like a horse.”

“I personally like horses.”

“Not sleeping with them.”

“We can go down and run you under a sheepherder shower after dark. How does that sound?”

“You sound delighted that I'll freeze to death.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “Then I can bring you back to life. Won't that be charming?” They both laughed.

“How do all your ranch women like the Arizona Territory?”

“You can ask them when you meet them.” He held his hands up. “I won't touch that with a ten-foot pole.”

They twisted around and kissed facing each other. He pushed the curls back a little from her face. He'd never realized her height before he went back to Texas. Why not? He'd tried to keep her distanced back then—he'd owed Kathren that much even if it didn't work out and she couldn't come because of her parents' failing health. He'd danced with Marge the year before, but if they'd asked him how tall she was he'd have said five-eight. She was six foot tall. What else did he know? She had a heart of gold. Well educated and after she read that letter to the editor, she accepted it as him. He'd worried about that and was ready to defend it. Didn't have to. She was grown-up enough to know what he'd done and why. She sounded like she knew someone had to do that to protect others. That was important to him.

Over supper, they talked about the weather. How his bunch came too late to do much gardening. She offered to share her ample supply. He told her to work that out with the girls. Then he thought about Hoot as the cook. He'd have to have a mess for his men and let the women work out of the house part. They'd held off telling him about what they thought of it. He chuckled, refilling his plate with the fresh-picked green beans.

“What is so funny?”

“Hoot is the cook down there. At home the women fed the family and crew. I am going to have to separate them before they kill one another.”

“Did they complain?”

“No, but Hoot threatened to quit. I talked him out of it.”

“You work on that operation of yours all the time, don't you?”

“Yes ma'am.”

She sipped on a glass of wine, he drank coffee after the meal. They went back in the living room so Monica could do the dishes after Marge couldn't talk her out of doing them till morning. In the living room, she moved the cowhide rugs aside and wound up the music box. They danced until after Monica told them good night.

Then they both went down to the sheepherder showers in the starlight and she brought along a pair of her father's felt slippers and a longtail nightshirt for him to wear going back to the house. He got under the shower in the moonlight, lathered all up, and then rinsed. The water was warm until he shut it off. Then the dry air began to evaporate it off his skin and he hurried to get dry. In the nightshirt and boots he felt like he must look strange if anyone saw him.

Hand in hand, hauling his clothes and gun belt slung over her shoulder, they went back to the house and blew out the lights. Nothing was on his mind but that the two of them were going to be together.

In the predawn he found his horse saddled and ready after he ate Monica's hot oatmeal and pancakes. He checked the cinch and swung aboard. It was all such a clever plot by Marge, Monica, and even Raphael, he felt certain like he was being led into the web of a black widow, and that when she was with child, she would kill him. No. No, that was too grim. But the two of them had talked the night before about it and
if
—with either husband she had never been with child. Doctors could not tell her a thing that was wrong. She warned him to know with her for a mate he might never have any heirs. Good enough she'd been frank with him.

He descended into the Verde Valley on the narrow road that snaked down the mountain as the rosy dawn broke its existence. The ranch hands had already left for various duties. Tom was sipping coffee when he rode up and dismounted.

“Find some loggers?” Tom asked.

He shook his head, “Got some men coming that will drive nails.”

He continued with his ideas to Tom. “You, I, and JD need to go up there tomorrow and talk to the mill owners. We need some understanding about this deal. We have paid them for the lumber we have received?”

“Yes, I made sure we paid them monthly.”

“Then why haven't they sent us the lumber we need?”

“The guy that delivered the last load said they were short-handed. Like I said, everyone up there quit and went to Tombstone to work down there 'cause they paid more.”

“A trip up there might settle this.”

“I'll get ready to go.”

“Good. I'll catch JD tonight. Maybe we can iron out the situation. Who do you do business with up there?”

“Ted McKnight.”

“We better take our bedrolls. The trip will take a day anyway to get up there.”

Tom agreed. “May be gone three or four days.”

“I need to be back here by Saturday night.”

Tom smiled and then shook his head. “That will be fast.”

“Or I may be in duck soup.” Amused, Chet shook his head while unsaddling his horse. He better go settle the cook business. He dreaded that too. His life was going to be one of going up and down the line setting sailing boats upright that had turned over on their side.

“Hoot,” he called out, entering the back door into the house.

“What do you need?” his cook asked, coming in in his apron.

“Where is the roundup chuck wagon?”

“What for?”

“I want it and a tent set up. You will feed the crews up there. These women can cook for who they want to who aren't crew members.”

Susie came down the stairs, two at a time. “What is this?”

“We are splitting the duties. You will have the kitchen. Hoot is going to use the chuck wagon and a tent to feed the ranch hands.”

“Why?”

“Things are different here. In Texas, we were family and a few hands. Here we have lots of employees.”

“Why didn't you ask us?”

“I'm sorry. I needed to make a decision. Hoot feeds the crew. We will build a mess for him before winter. Tom, JD, and I are going up on the rim tomorrow and try to resolve this lumber business.”

“Fine, you can eat out there too.” She stomped back upstairs. Mad as he could ever believe she had gotten at him in her life. What would be the result? The women could do what they wanted and probably would. But the fighting would stop—Hoot had his kingdom and they had the house. He better get lots of lumber coming off the mountain and get the construction over with.

It would be a damn sight easier to herd cattle than run a place with this many problems.

The next day, Tom and JD rode with him over the military road to the top of the rim. He took a long look of the vast valley and the red mesas to the west, then they started across the pine country. On top, they could see the San Francisco Peaks in the north. They hurried along to the loggers' camp and steam mill.

The whining circular saw told him they were sawmilling. They dismounted and hitched their horses at a log building with a sign that read M
C
K
NIGHT
L
UMBER
C
OMPANY
. A big man came out onto the porch wearing a suit and a gold watch chain.

“What brings you clear up here, Tom?” he asked.

“Ted, this is my boss, Chet Byrnes, and JD Byrnes. We need to talk about these short orders of lumber.”

“Come in, gentlemen.” He swung the door open and let them in. They found seats and he ordered coffee for the men from an underling.

“Was it a good ride up here?”

“It's pretty country up here,” JD said. “My first trip.”

McKnight nodded. “You know I've lost lots of help. These miners down in Tombstone stole my help with their high wages. I am working short-handed.”

“What're you short on?” Chet asked, leaning forward.

“Lumberjacks. Log haulers. You name it.”

“I don't have lumberjacks, but I do have draft horses that can haul logs.”

“How many?”

“Eight teams of good Belgium horses and men that can drive them. I saw lots of cut logs along the road that need hauled in here.”

McKnight nodded. “That would help for a while.”

“Can you find more lumberjacks?”

“I sent a man to California to get them. I think he'll bring a crew back.”

“Would those teams help you?”

“Yes. There is lots of cut timber out there we could make into lumber. I'd pay for that haul.”

“I don't want to lose money,” Chet said.

“How much will they cost?”

“Five dollars a day.”

“I can afford that. Will they bring a load of hay up when they come up here?”

“Probably cost us ten dollars a ton, Tom?” Chet asked.

His foreman agreed. “We should be able to get that.”

“I'll pay for that. Will these men work?”

JD nodded. “They will haul logs when they learn how.”

McKnight acted satisfied and went on. “I have decent quarters and a good mess for them.”

“Now about the lumber we need,” Chet said.

McKnight leaned forward with a look of relief. “You three are going to save my business. What you need we'll cut as quick as we can. Will you quit me when you get that wood?” he asked.

“I will support you for six months and if we can make money or break even, we will look at it. We made you a cut-rate offer that I might not be able to afford forever.”

“Mr. Byrnes—”

“Chet,” he corrected him.

“Chet, how soon can they come?”

JD took the lead. “Five days to a week. We will be here to haul logs.”

“McKnight, these men are tough cowboys. They may not like this work. But we will try to keep the ranks full.”

“That is all you can do.” McKnight stood up. “How about a drink of good whiskey to toast our business.”

“Gentlemen, I need to get back to the ranch,” Chet said, and stood up. “Excuse me. You two have a drink. I am going back.” He shook the man's hand.

“Tell her hi from us,” JD said and they laughed at his expense.

His nephew wouldn't want to stay in a logging camp for long. But he could establish their presence and then replace him with someone who liked the work. His plans were to find another ranch up on the rim for his nephew to run anyway. Maybe near Hackberry where he'd arrested those shooters the year before.

On his stout horse, Chet made a great distance and dropped off into the Verde Valley off the rim as the sun set in the west. He'd be at the dance all right the next evening, and he was excited about seeing Marge again. She'd sure become a lot more important in his life. With his sorry luck at matching up and making it work with a woman he hoped that things went better in Arizona than they had in Texas.

His discovery of Marla's bloody body still reminded him how she wouldn't face a divorce from her cheating husband, and marry him despite his urging. If she had she'd probably be alive and be his wife. Then came Kathren and they made plans. He thought that was a heavenly arrangement, but his bloody feud with the Reynolds forced him to move his family out of Texas. And her parents' health forced her to stay and care for them. Nothing he could do about that. Then the tall lady paid all his bills in an effort to be certain he survived in Arizona. He chuckled to himself riding downhill on the steep military road off the rim under the stars. She had been serious and endeared herself to him after he got over being mad.

He reached the ranch after midnight and unsaddled his weary horse. It had been a helluva trip. The rig dumped on the horn in the tack shed, he put the pony in the corral. The cow pony, he noted, was tired enough he didn't lay down and roll.

He wondered if his bed in the office was empty. He looked at the dark stairs. The coolness of the night wind crossed his face.

“Getting in late aren't you?”

“It's a long ride from up there on the rim.”

Susie was sitting up under a blanket in a stuffed chair in the dark.

“You against sleeping?” He stretched his arms over his head and yawned.

“No. But I wish I'd stayed in Texas.”

His sore eyelids hurt him. They could talk about it in the morning, but that was not going to work.

“You're mad about my decision to give Hoot the mess for the cowboys.”

“Yes.”

“We have close to two dozen employees.”

“I have always fed the ranch help.”

“Difference. Family and employees. In those days we had little help. We need a separation of us here.”

“I may go back to Texas.”

“Susie, what for? Your family is here. I count on you.”

“No, you don't—” She jumped up crying. “All you think about is your damn business.”

“It's your ranch too,”

“No, it is not. Your new lady was here. She was concerned about you getting back. I guess she doesn't have to worry now.”

He closed his eyes. “Did she invite you—”

“I am not going anywhere.”

“Did she insult you?”

“No. She is very proper and polite.”

He nodded.

“Do you think you will fit in her world?”

“I kinda hope so.” He felt trapped between the two women by her challenge.

By then she was crying on his chest and he hugged her. “We can work it out. I need you, Susie. Understand, we aren't in Texas on a family ranch. JD is going to take a crew up there and haul logs to the mill. He won't really like that and I need to find him a ranch in the future.”

“You're tired, I know. Go to bed and I will try to understand what you expect from me.”

“Thanks.” He went upstairs and fell to sleep on the cot until the noises of the children downstairs and ranch activity woke him up. He combed his fingers through his too long hair and tried to clear his head. The timber deal might work. Ranch operations came next. Tom could buy the hay they'd need and acquaint JD to the people who sold it.

Rustlers in the West
. Tom had his concerns about them. He needed to look at that. Where did Sims have Roamer? He really respected the lawman for all his aid getting the ranch deal settled and taking it away from the crooked foreman Ryan. He went downstairs and May fussed about, making breakfast and coffee for him. He stopped and waited for her to get it completed and they talked about her stepsons.

“They catch fish every day. They won't drown down there on the river, will they?”

“The river is shallow but they need to respect it. There's current and they could be swept away. I'll check on them.”

“They have become great fishermen.”

He laughed. They were healthy boys and full of spunk. Before they'd left Texas they rode their small horses all over. They would here as well.

After his large breakfast, he thanked May and went out to check on things. Hampt was shoeing a horse in front of the shop and looked up, surprised. “I thought you were up on the rim?”

“I came back last night.”

“Are we going to get lumber?”

“Yes. Our men will haul his logs in for him to keep the mill running.”

The big man looked up and frowned. “I hope I don't have to go do that.”

Chet smiled. “I won't ask you to do that.”

“Good.” He sounded relieved and was back to tacking the shoe on.

“Tom is concerned about some rustlers working our cattle in the West.”

Hampt nodded, dropped the hoof, and then blew his nose in a red kerchief before he said, “He and I talked about it. I don't have any notion. But I suspect we have had some rustling out there.”

“There aren't many small ranchers out there, are there?”

He shook his head, standing up to his full height—well over six feet.

“Think you could go out there and visit our lady friend casually and find out what she knows?”

Hampt checked around to be certain they were alone. “I can sure go out there and check on things.”

“We need to resolve that rustling. Take some supplies. Edna Pryor's absentee husband doesn't overstock her with supplies.”

“I'll keep it all under my hat. I may be be gone for a week or two.”

“Don't take them on. We can mount a force and do it. I don't want you hurt. Promise me?”

“I won't—I promise.” Hampt looked around some more. “Next time you run down horse thieves take me with you.” He paused. “I read that article in the
Globe
paper. I'm sorry as all get out that you didn't have more help.”