Between Hell and Texas (16 page)

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Authors: Dusty Richards

BOOK: Between Hell and Texas
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“Let's hobble Jack here. We don't need a braying jackass to wake them at the ranch.”
Heck dismounted and took the hobbles out of his saddlebags. Then he busied himself strapping them onto the mule's front legs. Before he left him, he checked them until he was satisfied the pack animal wouldn't go far. Heck slapped him on the neck. “Whoa, Jack, we won't forget you.”
“Good job, Heck, you'll make a packer yet,” Chet said, and then turned to Tom. “Think we only have part of the remuda?”
“There may be more in the west,” Tom said. “It wasn't all we had last year for roundup.”
Chet nodded his head. “I hope they didn't see our dust down at the ranch house.”
“We're higher up here than the ranch. That's why I stopped here. What now?”
“We ride in and evict Ryan along with his crew.”
Tom agreed with a grim set to his lips. “That might be fun.”
“We can look this bunch over when we get Ryan and his bunch off the ranch.”
Tom reined up his horse sharply. “Oh, I heard the other day he's sold the first cutting of alfalfa to some guy in Cottonwood.”
“That's interesting.” Chet shook his head in dismay, and swung down to get his pants out of his crotch and get his legs some more circulation. “No end to his business deals. Let's take a short break to loosen up, then go get him out.”
The other two did the same.
“Man, this is different country than Texas,” Heck said, walking around some. “I like it, but those mountains look tough to get over.”
“You'll get used to them,” Tom said. “There's trails all over to get up them. You simply have to know the way.”
“I guess so. Chet, are we going to have to kill that bunch down there at the ranch?”
“Heck, I hope they leave peacefully, but that's their choice. Don't be gun-happy with that .30 caliber you're wearing.”
“Oh, I won't. Just curious.”
“We aren't looking for trouble, but we may get some.”
“Wonder if them two that you stopped and disarmed at the café got new guns?” Heck asked.
“More than likely.”
Chet and his crew mounted up and rode south. When they came to the next edge, high above the ranch, the alfalfa field sparkled like a green-painted patch. The timothy made a lighter stamp and the corn was too short to notice. As for the big house in the cottonwood grove, they could only see the tile roof. Chet used his field glasses and saw little activity around the place. Coming in from the north might fool them. If no one noticed them, they would be a surprise, but the long hillside they rode off was devoid of much brush. It had been cleared at one time to grow more grass, no doubt. Also to have it open so the Apaches couldn't easily sneak up on them.
Then Chet saw the small form of a woman, using her hand for shade in the fenced garden and looking up at them. Screaming, she left for the house on the run. Her wails sounded frantic above the wind in their faces. Soon a hatless man came back with her, and she pointed in a reckless manner in their direction. Chet handed the glasses to Tom. “Know him?”
“When you get done, let me see him,” Heck asked.
Tom shook his head and handed the glasses to the boy. “He's a new man Ryan must have hired.”
“I sure never seen him before,” Heck said, handing them back for Chet to put in his saddlebags.
“Guess we won't be any surprise.” Chet shook his head at the loss. He reached behind into the scabbard and unlimbered his Winchester .44/40. A quick-action lever opened and shut, and the rifle in his hands was loaded. He set the hammer on safety and put the rifle butt on his right leg.
“If they shoot at us, head for some cover. Spread out.”
They soon were forty feet apart, their horses dropping down coming off the steep slope, and no shots had been fired. Chet felt any shooter would come to the back fence to get as close as he could before he shot—but there was no telling.
His roan acted like he knew something was about to happen, and bobbed his head a lot, making waves with his thick, split mane. The pony was sure-footed, and Chet had the notion that if he needed him to bolt, he would in a split second.
The house drew closer. A Mexican woman came out, looked at them, then in Spanish said something loudly to the ones in the house. She disappeared back inside and reappeared, exposing less and less of herself, and her Spanish words became more audible to Chet.

Sí
.
Those hombres are still coming
.”
Yes, they were still coming. With a head toss, he sent Heck and Tom off to the side, and, expecting the report of a gun, he sent Roan after them. In a few minutes, Heck and Tom were among the thick trunks of the cottonwoods. Chet told the two, “Stay here and back me.”
Then he sent Roan in a hard run around to the yard gate where he reined him up.
“Who the hell are you?” a tall, unshaven cowboy asked, looking hard-eyed at him.
“Is Ryan here?”
“Naw, he's in town on business.”
My, my. The man might have already learned his credit was no good. Chet reset the roan down with a jerk on the bridle. He could hear the Mexican women all talking a mile a minute behind the single man Ryan had probably left behind to guard the place.
“Unbuckle your gun and drop it gently on the floor, then kick it across the porch. Any wrong move and you better be wearing your funeral clothes.” Chet leveled the rifle at him.
A woman tried to stop the cowboy from disarming, but he shrugged her off and did as he was told.
“Now, all of you come out and stand with your faces to the wall. Hands pressed on the wall. Anyone tries anything will be shot. Otherwise you can live, if you listen. Now get down on your knees. Good.” Four women, one pregnant, one a teenager, and two in their thirties knelt with their hands on the wall.
What's your name?” Chet asked the cowboy.
“Ralph Keyes.”
“Ralph, go hitch two horses to a wagon and don't try anything. Bring it up here.”
“What for?”
“Oh, you all are leaving today, didn't I tell you? Tom, you accompany him. Shoot him if he tries anything. Who else is on the payroll?”
“A cowboy named Doug and another they call Cal. I don't know their last names.”
“Where are they at right now?”
“I don't know. Ryan told me before he left to guard the house.”
“Tom, you and Heck watch for them coming in. When's Ryan coming back?”
Keyes shrugged. “Tonight, I guess. He didn't tell me. Maybe these women know.”
Chet had dismounted and Heck took his horse. “Put those three horses out of sight. Then come back to the house.”
“Yes, sir. I'm sure glad they all weren't here.”
Chet nodded. This mess wasn't over yet, either. He sent Keyes with Tom, then climbed up the porch steps and spoke to the women in Spanish. “You have a short while to get your personal things. Don't steal anything belongs to the ranch, or you will go to prison. I will check all your things. Now
mucho ándale
.”
“Where will we go?” the older woman asked.
“Wherever you came from.”
She swore at him, going inside the house, shaking mad.
Chet shrugged her words off. One thing he wanted to avoid was having to slap a pregnant woman around, but he wasn't taking much more of her bad mouth. He went inside to oversee their packing. He noticed no rifles on the wall rack. That was why Keyes hadn't gotten one down. No doubt he didn't know where either the guns or the ammo for them were at, or he might have tried to hold them off.
Ryan had made a mistake leaving Keyes in charge. One of those other two cowboys might have defended the place stronger. This had worked slick—but Ryan wasn't home yet, either. Then a notion struck him. If Ryan had made so much money selling off ranch assets, where was it hidden? One of those women knew where he hid it. But it would be like pulling teeth to get them to tell him.
With them out of the room, Chet knelt before the cool hearth and reached inside on the ledge above the front opening. Nothing but soot in there. The fireplace was bricked, and he saw none that looked loose. Chances of him finding the hidden loot were slim, but the notion intrigued him. What could Ryan have spent it on? The amount of money he stole off the ranch must be a fortune. Where was it?
The first woman came lugging a large blanket wrapped around her possessions into the main room. He told her to sit down on the tile floor. The teenager obeyed him.
“What's your name?”
“Maria.”
“Good, Maria. You just sit there.”
She nodded.
Chet had a mess on his hands with four women to evict, but that wasn't his fault. Whatever they did or where they went was not his problem. In less than a half hour, Keyes would be driving them all off the ranch. Fine, then he'd have that solved and he could wait for Ryan's return, if he thought he had to come back after learning his check writing was closed. Maybe he'd meet his women on the road and think better about coming back. Not likely—he might even mount an army to come back with him. Something Chet needed to think hard about.
Heck stuck his head in the door. “The wagon's hitched. I'll go get Jack and try to bring in the horses, huh?”
“Yes, then we can start checking them out. They should come on down here for you. There's plenty of hay in the barn to feed them lot.”
“I'll get them.”
“Fine, be careful. We don't know where those other two goons are.” What was taking those women so long? Heck left the doorway, and Chet turned to see the older woman, who had been crying, coming in with her things in two blankets.
“The wagon is ready. Go load up.” He made a head toss at the open door for those two. They acted deaf, but soon moved to the opening.
“Get down here now!” he shouted up the staircase for the missing ones.
They appeared, and bounced their possessions down the stairs, two-handed. He stopped them at the base and made them take out the brass candlestick holders and a few other items he felt came from the house.
They angrily complained in Spanish, speaking a mile a minute that those were theirs. He shook his head and pointed to the doorway. “Vamoose!”
They obeyed and dragged their remaining loot down the front steps to the gate. Keyes loaded them and their things into the back of the wagon.
“Deliver that wagon to Frey's stables. Tell him that this is my wagon, and he is to take care of the animals until I can get back there. If you don't, the sheriff will hang you for horse stealing.”
“Ryan owes me money,” Keyes said, sitting on the spring seat.
“I'm sure he'll pay you out of his own pocket. Now get the hell out of here. And don't come back.”
The pregnant woman, standing, had to get in her last cusswords and threats in Spanish. She about fell down when the horses jerked the wagon to leave, but she never missed a word in her thorough blessing of him.
Shots came from behind the house. Chet rushed inside and grabbed his rifle—were they after Heck? Damn them. His heart pounded in his throat as he tried to get outside and around to see the source of the shots.
Chapter 17
Chet and Tom rounded the house in time to see Heck, his horse, and the mule making a run across the hillside to get off the slope, and two riders shooting their pistols at him. They must be the other two, he decided, taking a sight down the barrel. The riders, seeing him and the long gun, took wings for cover.
“I hate to shoot damn horses,” Chet said, shaking his head, glad he didn't have to. “But I feared they might get lucky and hit Heck with one of their six-guns. Let's go see where they went.”
“There was nothing else to do, if they hadn't turned tail,” Tom said, running beside him.
Heck slid the bay to a stop and Jack put his four feet down in stiff-legged jumps. “I had taken Jack's hobbles off when they came charging down out of a draw. I knew I better forget the horses and get my butt down here.”
“You did alright, son. In fact, you did wonderful.” Tom looked where the two riders had disappeared. He shook his head.
Chet nodded. “I've been wondering where Ryan kept his money.”
Tom shook his head. “Danged if I know.”
The safe in the one room. Chet'd noticed that the day before, when they inspected the house. He wanted to kick himself.
“Heck, head for the house, go in back, and check that safe.” He had never thought about Ryan using it. “If it's been cleaned out, those damn women took it.”
Heck raced for the front door, and in a flash was back in the doorway. “They must have got it, Chet.”
“You two watch for the others. I'm going after them.” He jumped on Heck's bay and charged off after them. There was no way they were getting away with that money. When he hit the road, he could make out the wagon's dust ahead. Topping a rise, he saw the women look back, and the one sitting beside Keyes began beating on the horses. But it wasn't even a horse race. He was soon beside the team and drew the near horse, down by the bridle, to a halt.
When Chet dismounted and tried to get on the rig, the pregnant one went to trying to beat him with a buggy whip. But he had no mercy, and jerked it from her hands. When he climbed up to save being hit again, he pulled her off the seat while she still struggled with him. Tired of her fighting, he let her fall to the ground. No way to treat a lady, but she wasn't one. He brought out his large knife, and the other three screamed and backed away to the tailgate. Hers first, he slashed the blanket open and the paper money fluttered everywhere.
“Now open yours. You got any money in them, you'll go to prison, too.”
“No money, señor! No money,” they screamed and tore open their blankets to show him underwear, Sunday dresses, a towel or two, and some toiletries.
“Fine,” he said and told them to sit down in the back. He used one of the woman's slips by tying the top end, and began to gather the money. By the handfuls, he stuffed it inside his “bag.” By then, Heck and Tom, who had saddled horses, were there to help him.
Heck jumped in and whistled. “How much money is here?”
“A lot of money.”
“How did you figure he had so much?”
“He's been stealing for a long time from Talley. No one checked on him. He had the run of the house. Before Talley came to visit, I bet Ryan cleaned it out, and when he left, Ryan went back to using it.”
“Why was it open?”
“The women wouldn't dare touch it, and they'd tell him if anyone else did so that they didn't get the blame. He probably had it shut, but the combination wasn't locked. That's what she went after instead of her personal things.”
“She says you broke her arm,” Tom said.
“Load her up. Keyes can take her to a doctor.”
Tom and Heck boosted her up in back, and she cried out, holding her right arm. Chet decided that was better than her cussing and hitting him. “Take her to the doctor, Keyes.”
The three rode back to the ranch with the money-full slip tied on Chet's horn.
“How much you reckon all that money's worth?” Heck asked, riding his bay alongside.
“I have no idea, but we can count it and wait on Ryan.”
“I never counted that much of anything before,” Heck said.
‘We're going to improve your math tonight,” Chet teased. “And no taking your boots off to use your toes to count.” All three laughed.
Where had those two shooters gone? No doubt to find Ryan and tell him that Chet had taken charge of the ranch. More troubles.

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