Between Hell and Texas (12 page)

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Authors: Dusty Richards

BOOK: Between Hell and Texas
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“I will go quick and tell Susie you are back—already.”
“Fine, we'll find some food while you go after her. She's probably worried about Louise.”
“There is plenty of food in there,” the girl said, like she was torn between feeding them and going to get Susie.
“We're fine. You go find her.” He helped Louise out of the saddle and she kissed him on the cheek. Her action about shocked him. Last time she kissed him, he had been in diapers, he was certain.
She took his arm in the crook of hers, then grasped his hand and led him to the table and all the sheet-covered food. He ate a big slice of dried apple pie first. The sugar and the cinnamon made his mouth flood. Time for food later—he wanted something special.
Seated on the bench, he turned at hearing Susie coming running. He said, “Louise, I told you she'd be worried.”
Grateful that Susie ran in and hugged her aunt first, then he asked if she was alright. He watched the two, close to tears, pound each other on the back and shoulders.
“I am fine, thanks to your brother's quick action. He must have came at lightning speed to my aid.”
Susie looked back at him in the orange light. “He is a real special guy.”
“Have you seen Trent?” his sister asked him.
“He had to take those prisoners on to Mason. I feared they would be lynched if he came by here with them.”
However, before Susie could even ask who the bad guys were, a crowd from the schoolhouse burst in to check on them. The tent turned into a madhouse of folks clamoring for what happened and who did it. Took over a half hour to tell them all that had taken place. Chet had read the anger in the crowd's eyes as the incident was spilled out to them. From his vantage point, he saw the angry notions cross the looks on their faces. Trent was right to take them onto the county jail—otherwise they'd never have been breathing when the sun finally rose the next day. He, at last, excused himself to go find Kathren.
Kathren stood outside the tent, and at the sight of Chet, came on the run to hug him when he came out to look for her. “I was so worried about you.”
“It worked out anyway. I'm glad Louise is going to be alright, but I worried that you'd give up on me. I'd invited you to come and I ran off.”
“I knew when they said you went looking for her, you had not ran away 'cause I was coming.”
“Where's Cady?”
“Dancing, I think. She's giving Heck lessons tonight.”
He kissed the side of her face and hugged her tight. “Wonderful. Louise says she'll be alright. The two alive kidnappers are in the Mason County jail.”
“Did you eat?” she asked.
“A piece of pie.”
“Let's go back in there and I'll feed you.”
“Whatever—”
Chet followed her back inside the tent. How bad could things get in this war? Outsiders were even planning things against them. One more reason why he needed to find a new place for his kin. But Kathren's presence overshadowed his move plans and he simply enjoyed her company.
Later, with Kathren and her daughter ready to sleep in the tent with Susie, Louise, and Juanita, he set out to stake himself a place nearby under the stars and rolled out his bedding, after kicking the rocks and branches off his plot.
In his bedroll, he tossed all night. Sleep avoided him despite the bone-deep tiredness and exhaustion he'd suffered. They were still out there poised to do something harsh to him or his relatives.
Damn them, anyway.
Chapter 14
Sunday morning, the two families went to church services early, except Susie, Juanita, and Kathren, who stayed behind in the camp to fix breakfast. They all sat in the midway section, and listened to Preacher Rankin lead the prayers and songs and deliver the sermon. They stood to sing the various hymns, and their voices rang out. “Nearer My God to Thee” filled the fresh morning air. Rankin spoke about Jesus and how he died on the cross so they could be saved. That their salvation was in accepting him in their hearts. He closed in prayer, and then they filed out shaking his hand at the door.
When Chet stepped into the broad daylight, he narrowed his eyes at the three hard-case men sitting on horseback. Burl Reynolds, the patriarch of the family, Tye Watkins, a cousin, and Blythe Campbell, another kin or an in-law. He signaled for J.D., who'd come back late in the night, and Heck to go on.
“Byrnes!” Reynolds shouted.
“I'm not wearing a gun, Burl. But if you came here for war, I'll go get one. This is hardly the place to start. We've been to church. It wouldn't have hurt you none to have been in there, either.”
People were hurrying to the side to be out of gun range. Concern-faced woman herded their children aside. Others were so shocked at the three men's appearance they went back inside the building.
Reynolds pointed his index finger at Chet. “You better attend church. 'Cause you're going to need all the help you can get to stay out of hell when I get done with you.”
“Wait.” Brother Rankin rushed by Chet, holding his hands up in defense. “‘Vengeance is mine' saith the Lord. We are gathered here in peace and loving thy neighbor. Have you lost your mind, Burl? This is a place of God, man.”
“I didn't come to kill you,” Reynolds said. “I want him.”
Chet noticed that several of the men were returning with arms. He hoped this didn't turn into massive shooting. Too many kids and wives were still in the area.
“Reynolds!” a rancher named Hurst shouted. “There are several of us here that want you to leave—peacefully. Consider us carefully. There will be no gunplay here unless you choose to die.”
Reynolds rose in the saddle and looked around at the number of armed men, which had grown. He sat down in the saddle looking a tad more uncomfortable than before, and said, “Byrnes, you may live today, but you won't for long.”
He gave a head toss that he was ready to leave. The three filed out and then short-loped away. Several men spoke to Chet to apologize. He nodded that he understood and shook their hands.
One rancher asked, “What will he try next?”
“I don't know.”
Chet walked back to camp, thanking his backers as he went. With this confrontation he knew, even stronger, that he needed to find new land.
Heck was at his side. “That sumbitch came asking for it, didn't he?”
“We better leave off the cuss words. Yes, he did.”
“What will they try next?”
“Heck, if I knew that we'd all be better off.”
“I savvy, I savvy good.”
Kathren came running to meet him. He hugged her. “I'm sorry.”
“Sorry? Why, he needed his neck strung up for coming to a church gathering and threatening you.”
“I simply could not help it.”
She wet her lips. “Makes me so mad. I wasn't that mad the day they shot at us at my place.”
“You two come and eat,” Susie called out from the edge of the tent. “We still have to break down this camp and get home today.”
They agreed and moved to join her. He took one long look back and saw nothing but other folks getting ready to pack up. Shame those Reynoldses had ruined such a well-attended event.
After lunch, while the women washed the dishes, he noticed that Louise was even helping them. The men loaded the tables and benches, then took down the large canvas. Everyone was working. Things were taking shape quickly to make the move for home.
Chet watched Utah Kline ride up the creek bottom, dismount, and take off his weatherbeaten hat to speak to Susie. Interested in talking to him, Chet left J.D. and Heck to load the rest, and walked over.
“Well, howdy, Chet. I got the word you wanted to talk to me.”
“I did, Utah. Did you get in on the tail end of that deal at the church?”
“I heard about it. Them Reynoldses won't let go of you, will they?”
Chet shook his head. “I need to hire some men that are willing to stand and not run to support Reg. Ain't for everyone to know, but I'm going looking for a new place. I figure I can tell you and not have it spread all over the country.”
Utah nodded and beat his felt hat against his leg. “I can see your point. I'm not real pleased these days where I am. When can I start?”
“Whenever you can. I pay thirty and found.”
“Fair enough.” They shook hands. “I'll be there in a week.”
“Utah, I'm not asking you to fight my wars.”
“I understand, Chet, but when I work for someone I ride for the brand.”
“Reg said that about you, too.”
“Miss Byrnes,” he said to Susie when she walked up. “I'll be looking forward to putting my boots under your table, too.”
“Thanks, Utah, but I'm Susie at the ranch,” she said and then told Chet they were ready to go home.
“Alright, I'll see you and Susie in a week.” Utah mounted up and jog-trotted his pony down to the bottom.
Chet felt good. He'd hired one sure hand to back Reg. What the man's problem with Frank Rich at Anchor was, he'd probably never know—but he felt this was his gain and Anchor's loss. Later in the week, he'd run down the Hascal brothers. It was April already, and if he was headed west he wanted to miss the deep desert summer heat. So he'd better get to cutting.
After sending the crew for home, he and Kathren took a walk together and found a large rotting cottonwood log to sit on.
“I'm going looking for a new place in the next week. This event today was more of the same old business. They have no sense, coming to places where women and children are and asking for a gunfight.”
“I understand—” She swallowed hard. “I can't promise you to move anywhere. We will just have to see.”
He held both her hands so he didn't lose her. “I won't ask you to do that.”
“I know, but—” She wiped a tear from her cheek with a knuckle, then she straightened.
“Kathren, let's let things simmer. I have not found a new ranch yet, but this fight is not getting better.”
She closed her eyes and nodded. “I knew what he wanted sitting on his horse out there, and I would have shot him if I'd had a gun.”
“No need in that. Kathren, be patient with me. Maybe—hell, I want it to work out. Not as an affair, but as a life for both of us.”
She leaned over and they kissed.
“You be careful. I'll be here.”
They rose and he walked her to her horse and boosted her into the saddle. His hand on her leg, he nodded. “I'll be back.”
Kathren bit her lower lip and then turned the sorrel horse away. The knot behind his tongue proved painful to swallow. Damn, was he wrong? Would he lose her—again?
Chapter 15
They rode horses to El Paso. Chet and Heck with a pack horse carrying war bags and bedding. Drinking water got to tasting worse by the day, and the temperature soared higher. Lots of creosote bushes, a few jackrabbits, and some rattlesnakes thrown in. When they could even find a ranch, they stopped and offered to buy their meal. Only a few took their money and most wondered why the two of them were out there. In two weeks, they arrived in El Paso. Chet sold the horses and they boarded the stage line that ran to Tucson. They crossed more desolate land over New Mexico, and eventually somewhere into eastern Arizona saw their first saguaro cactus. Heck rode on top of the coach a large part of the way.
A gambler told Chet about the wild town of Tombstone, with all the fortunes won and lost down there. Chet had no time to take a side trip and swung though Benson on his way to Tucson. May heat was turning the winter growth of annuals to brown when they arrived in the hot, walled town of Tucson. Two dead burros lay in the street, hogs keeping cool in the depressions where the slop water was tossed out. Drunk, dark-skinned people were passed out on the walks. The two quickly bought tickets to Papago Wells and were on their way to Phoenix. A man on the stage out of El Paso had spoken about Preskit in the pines—but the stage agent in Tucson told him that the man had meant Prescott—and that there was a daily stage from Phoenix to there every day.
So far, the cactus-spiked desert didn't look like ideal ranching country to Chet. Maybe his entire search was going to be a waste of time. No telling. He hoped Prescott—or as the native folks called it, Preskit—would offer him a better-looking area to find a ranch.
Heck never complained. His eyes were wide open the entire time. He'd seen lots of Indians, and smiled at many dark-eyed pretty girls who, when they spoke to him, made his face turn red. Seeing this new world was exciting at that age. He'd asked Chet many times if someday he thought he could climb some of those lofty mountains and see as far as he could see. Chet promised him that he could—someday.
Road-weary, they climbed on the Black Canyon Stage Line coach in Phoenix, a dusty small town along the Salt River surrounded by low mountains. The driver let Heck sit on top, and they were off rocking in the coach. A woman in her twenties who wore an expensive dress shared the coach with Chet. She dressed like Louise, and made him wonder how much help his aunt was offering Susie.
“Are you a stockman?” she asked.
“In Texas, yes, ma'am.” He took off his hat for her.
“What brings you to Arizona Territory?” she asked, trying to cool her smooth face with a small Chinese fan.
“I'm looking for a ranch.”
“Going to Preskit?”
“Yes, as matter of fact, they told me the climate was much cooler up there than down here.”
“Oh, yes, it is. My name is Margaret Christianson. We own the LYT ranch up there.”
We
, he wondered who all that was. “My name's Chet Byrnes. I live near Mason, Texas. Our ranch is the bar-C.”
“Oh, how nice to meet you, Mr. Byrnes.”
“Chet, please.”
“Margaret is fine. How large a ranch are you considering buying?”
“As much as my money can afford.”
She pasted on a smile. “That could be anything out here.”
“I understand. I'm not familiar with the land market. But I am mainly looking for a place that suits me right now.” The stage lurched from side to side, climbing a steep grade, and the four horses were reduced to a walk.
The hot air that flew through the passenger compartment felt dry. The steep rocky land on the side of the mountain, that he could almost reach out and touch, looked like a tough place to handle cattle. Those towering cactus and beds of prickly pear he recognized, but there were other plants that looked real stickery.
“Do you have a family?”
“Yes, my own family, but I have no wife. The boy on top is my nephew. His father, my brother, was killed last year on a cattle drive to Kansas.”
“Oh, how unfortunate.”
He agreed.
“Well, our ranch is close to Preskit, so if you are around, drop by the LYT. It's easy to find.”
“Thank you. I'd offer you the same, but the—
is outside of Mason, Texas and I doubt that you would ever come close to it.”
“One can never tell, Chet.”
“No, I guess not, ma'am.”
“At least this trip so far, we have not been held up.” She stuck her head out the side window as if looking for holdup men.
Chet frowned. “Is that a usual part of this business of stage riding?”
“I never carry much money with me. Once I said I had none to the holdup men and they, well—practically undressed me in the road to try and find some. I was very embarrassed.”
Chet frowned. “They ever catch them?”
“The law?” She raised a shoulder and then shook her head. “Why, lands no. This is a very lawless place, this Black Canyon run.”
“I guess you can expect anything then from these bandits?”
“In the case of a robbery, I always give them a small amount of money since that horrible incident.”
There was something about her that made him wonder—he knew she was worldly, but most respectable women would never have talked to a stranger about such an ordeal—
practically undressed me?
Was she feeling him out? Or was she simply a very frank person? He might never know, but it passed the time of day better than with some drunk drummer or a gambler who was down on his luck. He'd shared the coach with both kinds earlier. The road became rougher again, and the ruts made the coach sway like a willow stem from side to side.
“Did you have some bad experience in your life happen?” Margaret asked, looking inquiringly at him before they were jolted again.
“What do you consider bad?”
“I am sorry. I was simply curious. You have no wife?”
“No wife.”
“I can see that I am inquiring too deeply in your life, Chet.”
“I run a family ranch in Texas. My father lost his mind years ago searching for two of my brothers and one sister that the Comanche kidnapped. My mother died in mental distress. My aunt lost a husband in the Civil War; she is in our family circle. My brother left several children from his first marriage and a baby by his second wife. I mentioned he was shot down last spring in Kansas. We have become involved in a Texas feud with another family over their son that was hung for stealing our horses.”
“Oh, I'm so sorry.”
“No need, these are my problems. But we thought a place in a new country might give us all a new start.”
“I can see where you are going. Come by the ranch when you are in the area. If you have any questions, my father knows the ranching business in Arizona. His name is Harold McClure.”
“Thank you, ma'am.”
He looked across the hills and saw evergreens appearing that looked like red cedar on the hillsides. “What are they?” he asked her.
“With a rise in elevation the junipers begin to dot the land. A sign they get more moisture up here. Next we'll get into the pine country. Preskit is in the pine country.”
“I see live oak, too. That and cedar is what's in my hill country back home.”
“Chet, you will find lots of good ranch country at this elevation.”
“I can see that, I can sure see that.” For the first time he felt excited by the looks of the range land he could see from the stage.
Heck leaned over and shouted, “It's lots cooler up here, Uncle Chet.”
“It's nice. I agree, Heck.”
“Welcome to my land,” she said, and recrossed her legs, swinging her button-up shoe back and forth from under the lace trim of her petticoats.
“Thank you.” He did like the looks of the forage and could vision how a cow could eat it. After all that desert they'd crossed, he finally had found real range land. This country looked like home to him.
They arrived in Preskit after dark. He and Heck unloaded their saddles and pack gear on the stage line office porch. A well-dressed man with silver sideburns stepped out and welcomed Margaret.
“How are you, my dear?”
“Wonderful. I want you to meet a man looking for a ranch up here. Meet Chet Byrnes. This is my father, Harold McClure.”
The two men shook hands.
“Good to meet you sir,” Chet offered.
“Welcome to the territory. We can use more serious ranchers in this region.”
“Thank you. I am enjoying this much cooler air. My nephew and I have been coming for several weeks across the true desert to get here.” In the moonlight, Chet looked at the pine-clad hills around the town and the thumb-shaped butte on the west. “Very nice place.”
“Come and see us someday,” her father said. “Our ranch is east of here.”
“Heck and I will try to do that,” he said.
Next, he needed to park his gear there at the stage office and go find a room for the two of them. He signed in for one at the Brownstone Hotel across the street, and then they walked two blocks to a restaurant the desk clerk recommended. The temperature had dropped, and Heck was rubbing his arms.
“I bet it will really be cool by sunup,” the boy said.
“But it will sure beat that old desert oven we've been in for weeks.” Chet opened the restaurant door and let him inside the lighted business.
Seated in a booth, they ate pork chops, potatoes, green beans, and some French bread and apple pie. Sipping his coffee, Chet felt relaxed for the first time in days. This was the part of the land where he hoped to find a ranch suited for the family. Back on the boardwalk, he picked at his teeth as they headed for the hotel.
“What do we do next?” Heck asked.
“After a good night's sleep, we'll buy three horses tomorrow, and talk to some land agents.”
“What will they tell us?”
“What ranches they have for sale.”
“Sounds interesting. I'm proud you brought me along. I've sure seen lots of country.”
Chet clapped the boy on his shoulder. “There's lots more to look at, too.”
At dawn they found a hole-in-the-wall café, but the one row of stools down a long counter proved to be a great place to eat breakfast. Eggs as you like them, fried side meat, biscuits and thick gravy, rich coffee, too. They left full, and the blond woman who waited on them sent them to Frey's Livery to look for horses, saying he was honest.
At the stables, they found folks saddling their own horses, and a man hitching a buggy in front of the livery. A tall, lanky, red-faced man in his forties with freckles came out and introduced himself as Luther Frey.
“What can I do for you gents?”
Chet introduced himself and Heck. “We're needing two good saddle horses and a pack horse or mule.”
“Where you from?”
“Texas hill country.”
“My. You two have come a fur piece. He your boy?”
“Nephew.”
Frey nodded and led the way, talking to his customers as his men completed the saddling process on some and boosted others onto their animals. They walked through the sour, horse-piss-smelling barn to look at the ponies in the corral.
“That roan is five. He's a ranch horse and you can rope from him. Sound as a drum. That bay,” he pointed out a shorter horse. “He's four and I think he'd suit your nephew.
“But I've got more in there might work. I also have a well-broke mule for a pack animal. He's got some age on him, but good teeth and he knows the job. He'll keep up with your horses.”
“If they suit us, how much do you want for them?” Chet asked.

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