Between Hell and Texas (26 page)
Read Between Hell and Texas Online
Authors: Dusty Richards
“You no account back-shooters. I'm going to run you down for this horse killing,” he mumbled, reloading his handgun with shaky fingers. Bullets in the cylinder, with a sad heart, Chet shot the roan in the forehead to end his pitiful misery.
He'd have to come back and get his saddle. Setting out for the ranch on foot, he saw his first buzzard circling high in the sky. That sight of death-on-the-wings only drove the nail deeper in his chest. Those worthless lowlifes would pay dearly for this interruption and his loss.
Hoot must have seen him coming up the lane and ran out, wringing his hands in his apron. “Why are you afoot, boss man?”
“Shot my horse out from under me between here and town.”
“Cory, go ring that bell until I tell you to stop. We need the boys all in here right now.”
“Yes, sir.” The barefoot boy raced for the large bell in the yard and began making the bell ring hard by jerking the rope. In a short while, Hoot told him to stop.
“There's cowboys coming. Go hitch that team to the farm wagon.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Who was it?”
“A short, hard-faced guy with a Winchester. Roan reared up about the time he shot at me, and he hit him instead of me.”
“That sounds like Ryan. But he shot your good horse?”
“He might have shot me, but Roan was in the way. Others were there, too. Then they all lit out like shucks.”
“Where did they go?”
“They rode west.”
“What are you after?” Hoot asked from back of him, as he rummaged in the front closet.
“One of those shotguns.”
“They're all cleaned and oiled out in the kitchen.”
“Shells there?”
“Yes. I planned to have one of the boys make a gun rack to put them on.”
“Good idea. I'm going to borrow a saddle and go after them.”
“By yourself?” Hoot asked.
“They only send one Texas ranger to settle a tough town down where I come from.”
“Yeah, but they might kill you, too.”
“I doubt it.” He turned as Tom busted in the open front doors.
“Who shot your horse?”
“I reckon Ryan. He stepped out of the willows down there where the road runs along the river. Roan reared and he shot him instead of me. Then they ran like hell. Pick me out a tough horse to ride and let me borrow a saddle and bedroll. Hoot's fixing me some grub. I'll be ready to leave in thirty minutes.”
“The Dyer horse is the one. He's tougher than rawhide and you'll appreciate him. I'll get him ready. We'll go get your saddle and gear. Damn shame. That Roan was a great horse. I rode him that night over the mountain. Dyer's okay, I've shot deer off his back.”
“Good, let's get ready for me to leave. You boys hold down the ranch. I'll be back when I get them.”
“You don't know that country to the west,” Tom said. “It gets wild and western out there. I don't know where they'd have a hideout. There's some ranches out there, but they're small and there may be some outlaws hiding in them besides Ryan. They won't all be friendly.”
“Fine. I'm going to find that bunch and make them pay for killing Roan.”
Chet made a boot leg for the double-barrel Greener, then planned to load one of the new.44/40 rifles in the scabbard under his right stirrup. They soon had the horse saddled out front. Sarge and Bixsby came in on the run and they were told about his incident and plans. Hampt and Heck were still out, and he felt bad about not being able to wait on Heck and tell him all about the deal. But Hoot could do that for him.
Loaded down, Chet short-loped the big bay horse for the road and, leaving, waved good-bye to them. A tough enough horse under him, he soon located the familiar fresh hoofprints on the road and took them up. In his mind they were only a few miles ahead of him. If they didn't think he was after them, they might ease their pace.
Chet met a Mexican on the road, driving a squeaky
carita
pulled by two white oxen, who told him the five riders weren't over a half hour ahead of him. He rode on hard to cut that lead down. The day was waning fast when he topped a ridge and discovered that they had turned off the roadâsomewhere a ways back. He shut down the big horse among some large rocks in case they were going to try an ambush. Sounds of men chousing their horses were coming off the mountain above him. They must have chosen a steep side trail. There was lots of scrambling, cussing, and small rock-slides way above him. Obviously, they had not known he was that close to them or they would have ambushed him. His luck was holding. Chet turned the big horse around and soon found where they had left the road to enter the big pine timber. The tracks were easy to follow, but the trail hardly more than a game one.
carita
pulled by two white oxen, who told him the five riders weren't over a half hour ahead of him. He rode on hard to cut that lead down. The day was waning fast when he topped a ridge and discovered that they had turned off the roadâsomewhere a ways back. He shut down the big horse among some large rocks in case they were going to try an ambush. Sounds of men chousing their horses were coming off the mountain above him. They must have chosen a steep side trail. There was lots of scrambling, cussing, and small rock-slides way above him. Obviously, they had not known he was that close to them or they would have ambushed him. His luck was holding. Chet turned the big horse around and soon found where they had left the road to enter the big pine timber. The tracks were easy to follow, but the trail hardly more than a game one.
They must have crossed over the top by then, for he could no longer hear them scrambling. Undecided about whether to spend the night lower down and not ride directly into their camp or go on foot to check on them, he hitched the horse and removed the saddle. There wasn't any graze anyway, where they were at. On his hike upward, he'd look for some.
Chet took his Winchester with him and set out in the orange glow that flooded the steep trail above him. There was a large, open-rock slide area they had crossed over about a quarter-mile long. Not only was it steep on both sides, but it was a wonder they didn't lose some of their horses crossing it to where two tall rocks made a wide enough V for them to pass through. Chet entered the open-slide area, and in the twilight, crossed to the opening. The rocks held under his boots, but with a horse all that would be much different. He could see where some of the animals had spooked and they'd almost lost them.
At the V, he discovered a better trail that went off the north slope. Not as steep, and no sign of the bushwhackers. They'd no doubt rode on. Damn. Where were they headed? Undecided, still he didn't want them getting away. Could he get Dyer across that broken rock to the V in the dark?
Nothing to do but try it. He backtracked to his horse and the twilight dimmed more on him. He saddled Dyer and started for the loose-rock trail. Coming out of the pines, there was more light on the fractured rock, but not daylight. Dyer was a calm enough animal, and also tired enough not to be jittery. Chet felt sure he would not panic if he slipped a little.
The crunch under his shoes sounded loud as they began their trip. He talked to him softly so he wasn't shocked by any misstep or slide underfoot. Then Dyer lost his front footing with a small slide.
“Whoa. Whoa.” The horse replaced his hoof on a solid place and came forward.
Next a back hoof sunk, and Chet clapped him on the neck with soft words until the gelding found his footing again. “Steady, big man, we're going to make this.”
With his heart pounding in his throat, he put his own feet down gingerly and brought the horse across this gap in the sky. He sure hoped there was another way out of there besides this one. When at last he passed through the rock V, he stopped to relax. Hands on his knees and bent over to recover his sanity, he let Dyer stand for a few moments on solid ground. The horse shook hard enough to rattle the stirrups.
Chet led the gelding farther down the trail and found a small, grassy meadow in the starlight. Dyer put his head down and went to grazing, with his bridle clacking on his molar teeth. The saddle stripped off the horse, Chet sat down on the ground and gnawed on some jerky. The most disturbing things to him were that he didn't know where he was or how he would get out. Worse than that, he didn't know where the ambushers were, either.
When Chet awoke before dawn, he could smell faint wood smoke, and saddled Dyer in the dark. Then, cautiously, he led him down the tracks left in the game trail as the gentle lamp of dawn began to purple the skies. Mounted up, he crossed through some open timber. At any time, he knew he might ride right into the middle of them. Then, as the light began to spread over the land, Chet spotted the source of the smoke. A small cabin and ranch setup was in the valley beneath him. He reached back for his field glasses in the saddlebags. Then, careful that no glare off his lens reflected at them, he searched the pens. Men were saddling horses at the corral. He made out the short man who had shot Roan ordering them around. They were moving on, and he wondered who owned this station and had obviously put them up for the night.
In a short while, Chet would face that person or persons who aided them. The gang rode north, and he came off the mountain as fast as he dared. In a short while, he rode up on a woman busy hoeing in a fenced garden. When she straightened up, looking surprised, he dismounted with his hand on his gun butt.
Maybe in her late twenties, with a willowy figure, she was an attractive woman. Who was with her? He searched around. “Who else is here?”
She shook her head. “Oh, they left a half hour ago.”
“You have a man?”
“Yes.”
“He with them?”
“No, he's in Utah.”
“Utah?”
“I see you don't understand. I am a member of the Church of Latter Day Saintsâhave you ever heard of Mormons?”
“You're a polygamist.”
“Yes. My name's Edna. Are you the law?”
“No, ma'am. My name is Chet Byrnes. Those men shot my horse out from under me yesterday. He was a great horse, and they need to pay for him. The law in Preskit wants them for suspicion of theft from the ranch I bought.”
“Oh,” she said and leaned her chin on the hoe handle. “So you're the Texan they spoke about.”
“Guess they think I'm bad.”
She looked at him, troubled-looking. “They said you shot two of his men.”
“Ryan's men said that?”
She nodded.
“Me and my twelve-year-old nephew held them off and yes, we shot two of them who charged the house.”
“Twelve years old? He must be brave.”
“I'm very proud of him.”
“I don't have any coffee or I'd offer you a cup. I don't drink it.” Edna shrugged her shoulders under the nice dressâtoo nice a dress for her to work in, but she no doubt dressed that morning for her company.
“I have some coffee. Tell me why a young woman lives out here by herself who has a husband in Utah.”
“Life has its twists. We own this claim and we run our cattle in this range. We would like to make it larger. Without someone living here we fear that outlaws might roost here. So I was chosen from my sisters to come up here.”
“Sisters?”
“Yes, we call each other sisters. His wives, I mean.”
“Do you hide outlaws?”
“No, not on purpose.”
“You did last night.”
“How could I know they were outlaws? They had no handbills showing their crimes. I thought they were lost ranch hands.”
“Did you know any of them?”
“Yes.”
“Who was that?”
“Ryan. He had been here two times before.”
Chet walked with his horse outside the fence to the gate, where she unlatched the leather loop and opened it to let him in. The gate closed again, and she hitched her hem up enough for him to see she was barefooted.
The cabin was neat, but sparsely furnished. She filled the kettle half full of water from the canvas bucket and put it on the small stove. Then she fired the kindling under the utensil to get things going.
“You make the coffee. I've never made any.”
He nodded. “I will, when the water boils.”
“Oh, have a seat. I am not very society-conscious.”
Chet wanted to laugh at her simplicity. Was she a little
tetched,
or was she simply not accustomed to company? No way he could figure out the woman's problem. He got up to add the coffee grounds that Hoot sent along.
tetched,
or was she simply not accustomed to company? No way he could figure out the woman's problem. He got up to add the coffee grounds that Hoot sent along.
Edna rose and watched him closely as he spooned it into the boiling water. “I think I could make that.”
“It isn't hard. Did they say where they were going?”
“Utah, I guess, but the Grand Canyon will block their way. They will have to swing way east to the Navajo Country and go way up to Lee's Ferry.”
“There is no way to cross it short of there?”
“No, it is a long ways and lots of desert.”
“How far north is there a road?” The pungent smell of coffee soon filled the room. Chet rose and found two cups. From the kettle that he moved off the burner, he dipped her out one, and then one for himself.
She tried to hold her handleless cup, but soon set it down and went for a rag to protect her hands. “Hot, but it tastes good.”
“Too hot to even taste,” he said to her. “Wait till it cools.”
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