Between Hell and Texas (5 page)
Read Between Hell and Texas Online
Authors: Dusty Richards
Chapter 6
After his bath and shave, Chet had the boys saddle Scamp, a big bay, and then he went to the house to get some things to put in his war bag. Susie packed two more ironed shirts and his best pair of pants in it. He'd talked to Reg and J.D. about what they needed to do. For sure to keep the cattle out of the oats so they'd have hay next spring, and the Mexican work force could start plowing the corn ground, because before long they'd need to plant it. Susie and the house crew waved good-bye and he headed for Mason.
The winding road went through the live oak and cedar-clad hills, with cleared fields opening up wide farmland inside of stake and smooth-wire fencing. Most other oat fields looked green, the small blades tossed by the wind. Lots of threats recently, but not much serious rain, and they could sure use some.
With distractions talking to others on the road about finding drovers, he finally reached Mason in late afternoon and went by the jailhouse. The jailer told him that Trent was across the street at Han's Diner. He thanked the man and crossed through the wagon and buggy traffic for the eatery.
“Well, Chet, what brings you to town?” Trent asked, seated in one of the first booths, eating a late lunch or early supper.
“I came by to test the water about the inquest.” He hung his hat on the hook above his head, and then, at the sheriff's invite, joined him.
“Not much water to test. Judge Heingardner took our deposition and off the record asked for our opinion. The prosecuting attorney won't be here for another six weeks, so I think it is all quiet here. You said you weren't taking a herd north this year?”
Chet shook his head. “Not if I can help it.”
“With an outfit like yours it is kinda hard not to go up there, isn't it?”
“It usually makes money, but it's twelve to sixteen weeks of hell to earn it. Then the long trip back.”
“How's your sister?” Trent ducked back to spear a piece of the cut-up pork chop on his plate.
“She sent her best.”
“I don't know why. I make a pretty poor suitor.”
“Ah, you can't tell.”
“I can.” Trent used a piece of bread to sop up some gravy. Before he put it in his mouth, he added, “We've both got big jobs.”
“Amen.”
“I'm sorry,” the skinny teenage waiter said to Chet. “I was busy and didn't hear the doorbell ring. Can I get you something?”
“Bring me the plate special and some coffee.”
“I can do that, sir. Thank you.” He left.
“What are you really doing over here?” Trent asked.
“Seeing if I needed to go find a lawyer for this business.”
“No, not yet. I'm sure that the family will raise cain in San Antonio about the courts and the law doing nothing. But what can they do? Send a ranger down here. I'd welcome him.”
“Grossman at the store told me there were three strangers in Mayfield the last few days. Closemouthed, but he felt they were gunhands looking for work or already hired.”
Trent rubbed his finger over his mustache. “Damn, I'll need to get a deputy back down there. I thought things were getting down to a simmer on your dealâI mean after the shootout and all. But it's only got worse, huh?”
“There ain't any end to them. If every man in the clan was dead, the women would come after me.”
Trent shook his head in disappointment. “I have another one north of here that's festering over a milk cow and a dispute over who owns her. It has only come to fistfighting so far. But killing is next.”
“Thanks,” Chet said as Trent got up to leave.
“I hear anything, I'll send word to you. No need to go to San Antonio, unless you just wanted to.”
“No need in thatâ” Chet leaned back as his meal arrived. The young man apologized and told him he'd be back with his coffee.
“See ya. Ohâ” Trent stopped and turned back. “Tell Susie I gave you my best for her.”
Chet agreed. Damn shame he was a little older, but he'd be a good man for his sister and she'd be good for him.
Meal over and paid for, he discovered the winter sun had already set when he led Scamp over to the livery and entered the lighted hallway. He planned to get a room at Maude's when all at once the hallway light went out. He only had a flash of it coming when someone struck him over the head from behind. He went to his knees and could hear several men cussing him, their boot toes trying to cave in his ribs. His world swirled. Later he awoke, hardly able to breathe from the pain in his chest. Mouth full of dried horse shit and dirt, he tried to spit it out from his smashed lips.
Someone far away was talking to him.
“Chet? Chet?”
“Yeah,” he managed. “Who were they?”
Then three faces appeared in the coal-oil lamp held high enough that he could make out their faces: the old livery man, the town marshal Hinkle, and another man with a badge shining in the yellow light.
“I never
seed
them. They grabbed me and tied me up in the back room,” the old man said.
seed
them. They grabbed me and tied me up in the back room,” the old man said.
“Whoever they were, they rode out before we could catch them,” Hinkle said. “Lay still. We've sent for Doc.”
“You recognize any of them?” the deputy asked, shifting his weight, and squatting on the ground beside him.
Chet tried to sit up, but instead, with the sharp pains his movements caused, he dropped back onto the ground. “I need some water to wash out my mouth. I must have ate a ton of this dry horse shit.”
The old man said he'd get it.
“You know anyone who would do this to you?” the deputy asked.
“Not unless his name was Reynolds,” Chet mumbled.
Chapter 7
Someone was calling to Chet. The painkiller really had him doped up. However, he could feel the stiff sheets he laid between and the thick wool blanket on top. Three images hovered above himâtheir faces began to come into focus. Susie was first, then J.D., and last Louiseâwhat was she doing there, looking like she thought he was dying? Hell, oh, the pain struck him from head to toe like a lightning bolt.
“Lie still,” Susie said. “Doc says you'll heal, but didn't say when.”
“You get a look at any of them?” J. D. asked.
Chet barely shook his head.
“Damn, oh, Mom's going to stay and look after you,” the concerned-looking J.D. said.
Only one they could spare out there at the ranch.
Thanks.
Thanks.
“So,” Louise said. “Is there anything you need besides a new body? Those two have to get back. Do you want anything from the ranch? The doctor said you'd have to be here for a week, so if you need anything, you better tell J.D. or Susie. They're going back this evening.”
“Be careful.” Shocked at his own weak voice, he closed his eyes. “Keep your finger on the trigger.” Then he drifted off into never-never land. A million things he wanted to warn them aboutâbut they were gone and so was he....
Louise's voice came into his left earâshe was reading him a newspaper aloud. “The Simpson family who live on Thorny Creek reported a panther ate their litter of newborn piglets. Last Friday, a sow gave birth to seven shoats and made herself a nest for them on the side of a hill in some timber on their place. Some time after midnight Saturday, a fight broke out in that area of their farm and woke the entire family. It was the sow and the cat fighting, which seven-year-old Carl Simpson said sounded like the devil wailing up there. At dawn, when the family risked their lives to go see about the damage, they found the mother pig alive, however badly clawed up, but every baby pig had been eaten. The lion was not to be found.”
“You're awake?” She put down the newspaper. “What can I do for you?”
How did Chet tell her he needed to stand up and vent his bladder? Why in God's name did they leave her to take care of him?
Louise looked critically at him. “You want to stand up. And for me to set that night jar between your feet and then get out of the room?”
“Yes.”
“If I get you up, don't faint on me unless it is over the bed. I can't pick you up.”
“I will try not to faint. But I can't raise my arms without screaming.”
“I understand. Remember, I raised two boys and a husband. At various times they all had horse wrecks that broke ribs. I'll catch your elbows at your sides, you rock forward and maybe this will work to get you up.”
He nodded, and on the second rock forward Louise got him up. She steadied him, then repositioned the jar and excused herself. It worked, and once completed, he dropped to his butt on the bed and winced at the shock of his pain, but the relief was worth it.
Her knock on the door he answered from back under the covers. “Come in.”
Louise entered the room and replaced the pail. “It's near supper time and they are bringing you some oatmeal from the café.”
“Fine, I'm not starving.”
“But you have to eat.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“I will have to feed you.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
Trent broke up his morning with Louise and she excused herself. When she was out of hearing, he asked, “That's your aunt, isn't it?”
Chet agreed. “You learn anything about who took me on last night?”
“Nope. No one saw them. No one knows anything, so they must have slipped into town. Not hard to do that late on a weeknight. Han's cook heard someone in the alley earlier, but didn't see anyone when he went outside and checked. They must have waited somewhere while you ate supper then followed you across the street. Their horses left piles of horse shit where they had them tied. I'd judge they waited in the alley for you to go across the street with your horse to the livery.”
“Someone had to see three men.” His jaw hurt to talk much.
“Not after five at night and it's already dark in this town. Everyone goes to bed. The sun sets at five. Why burn all that coal oil?”
“So parties unknown did this to me.”
Trent sat back in the chair. “Chet Byrnes, they're out to get you. Three of them ended up dead. This time they came close to killing you.”
“They won't get many more chances at me.”
“No, you'll be dead next time.”
“I ain't planning on it being me.”
“I'll keep asking questions around town. I'm like you, I feel that someone saw them.”
A knock on the door and Chet said, “Come in.”
He wasn't ready for Kathren's wind-reddened cheeks and the shocked look on her face when she saw him.
“Good morning Sheriff Trent,” she said, and rushed past him. “Are you alright?”
“I'm taking nourishment. What are you doing up here? You have two ranches to run.”
“I'll see the both of you later,” Trent excused himself and winked at Chet. “You have real company now.”
She dropped to her knees beside the bed and kissed him. “Chet, Heck said they must have near killed you.”
“They broke some ribs for the main part. You didn't need to come clear up here.”
She narrowed her blue eyes. “I damn sure think I have the right.”
“No. No. I mean I'm going to live and you have two ranches to run.”
“Well, I also have a stake in you, too. Now who's looking after you up here?”
“Louise.”
“Your Aunt Louise?” She looked near aghast.
He motioned for her to get closer and whispered, “I think she's all they could spare.”
“I guess you're right. How long are you going to be here?”
“A couple of days, then I can go home, I hope.”
“Why not come to my place? You won't ever rest back at the bar-C.”
“We'll see.”
“No, I'll ride by your place and make plans with your sister. The two of us can figure this out.”
He shook his head, staring at the ceiling. “No, that might make you a target. That's happened before.”
She put her forehead on his arm. “I can watch over you. To hell with those damn Reynoldses. I may start a war of my own.”
“Kathren, you don't need them for enemies. One of us is enough.”
“Kathren,” Louise called from the doorway, holding a bowl and spoon. “Here, you can feed him this oatmeal while you're here.”
Kathren rose and took it from her. “Thanks, Louise.”
“I don't mind. You two have lots to talk about, I'm sure. I guess every time a Scotsman gets sick they feed him oatmeal.”
Kathren laughed. “Must be some magic medicine in it.”
Louise shook her head. “Only makes their heads harder.”
“Good. Get some rest, Louise, you look tired. I'll stay for a while.”
“Thank you. He's tough. They didn't kill him. I will go sleep a few hours.”
“Yes, you go get some rest.”
Louise gone, Kathren brought his oatmeal over and took her time feeding him off a small spoon. He felt sure that with each bite in her company he was healing. Her soothing voice filled with concern was what he needed to recover, and, the feeding complete, he closed his eyes and went back to sleep.
On the third day, Kathren's arrangements were in place. J.D. brought the ranch buckboard to haul Chet to Kathren's place. A frosty Texas morn; they had a mattress and a pile of quilts to cover him with in the back. Louise sat with her son on the spring seat, and Kathren, who'd come back for him, rode her horse and led his.
The trip took five hours; Chet decided it was his ride to hell. The buckboard had no springs, and no one ever realized the bumps encountered save the patient who lay in the back. But a large dose of medication helped soothe some of the pain. Doc had shown Kathren how to rewrap his ribs. He stared at the sky most of the wayâdeep blueâand the day warmed the farther they went.
J.D. and Kathren helped Chet into the house. He was so tired he fell immediately asleep, and never got to talk to J.D. enough about the ranch operation. In his groggy return to life the next morning, he awoke long before sunup and managed to go outside by himself to relieve his bladder. He limped inside and Kathren ushered him back to the living-room bed set up for him.
“Why didn't you call me?”
“Lord, I'm not a baby.”
“Almost one.”
“Did J.D. mention anything wrong at the ranch yesterday?”
“No, things were going fine. The corn ground is being plowed and no incidents so far.”
Weak as a pup, he laid back down and fell asleep.
Chet's efforts to recover were way too slow. Susie and Reg came to visit on Sunday. He'd lost all sense of time and days. His sister was her usual bright self and Reg, the nineteen-year-old, was all business, talking about horse breaking, plowing, and fence repairing. He'd been talking to Mark Ott about sending some steers north with their drive. But he thought Ott had all the stock he could drive up there.
“How many head do you figure we can send?” Reg asked, seated on a chair beside his bed.
“Oh, at least five hundred. We can use the income. You better hire some day help and begin gathering them.”
Reg agreed. But he wasn't through. Chet could read it on his face. “I kinda waded in where I didn't belong.”
“Yes?”
He looked around to be certain the women were out of the room before he started, “Heck and his stepmother May got into it. I'm still not certain what it all was about. I made him move to the bunkhouse. She's got enough problems with that baby.”
“Did you ever think that is what he wanted you to do?”
Reg shook his head. “I damn sure ain't you at handling things.”
“You did alright. Keep Heck busy. I'll be getting home in a little while.”
“Don't rush it. We're getting all the things done that you wanted.”
“I know, but I need to be back there.” He still felt sharp pains every time he moved an inch.
After they left, Kathren came and sat on the edge of his bed. “Your sister is a great person.”
He agreed. “She having problems?”
“No. She's holding up. Didn't her and the sheriff have something going?”
“I guess like we did.”
“Shame, isn't it?” She reset the lock of brown hair on his forehead.
“Is your daughter ready to come home?”
“Don't worry about Cady, she's fine helping her grandmother.”
Days passed slowly for Chet. He worked all he could to loosen up his muscles and get back his strength. He took less and less laudanum to wean himself from the painkiller. In a week, he was walking stiffly around, following Kathren to milk the cow and gather eggs.
They were coming from the barn when the sharp whang of a rifleshot cut the air.
“Git down.” Chet motioned to the parked wagon and, holding his side in deep pain, scrambled on his hands and knees to join her under the wagon bed.
Two more shots slapped into the wooden box. They edged back and he made a face at her. “I warned you.”
“Do you see the shooter?” Kathren asked.
“He's somewhere on that hill. Probably in those cedars.”
“I can get out of here and crawl through the garden out of sight. Then slip in the house.”
“Too dangerous.” But his words were too late. She was already slipping like a serpent backwards and away from him.
“Damn it, Kathren.” But his words were lost because she was already gone. Some small birds chirped and flittered around the homestead. He kept wanting to reach back for the Colt that wasn't on his hip.
Two more rounds sprayed dirt in his face. But he could see the gunsmoke from each shot coming from the center of the cedars where the shooter was stationed on the hill. Damn, and they'd found her place. He shook his head. How long would those no-accounts stay out there and shoot at this wagon? The fact that the two of them were unarmed was obvious, but they weren't real certain about it or they'd already have been down there.
He winced at the pain in his chest, trying to wiggle back farther underneath the wagon. The sharpness in his body distracted him. What was she doing?
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