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Authors: Dusty Richards

BOOK: A Good Day To Kill
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“Good. Who were they?”
“I have no idea.” He opened the front door for the concerned foreman.
“You all are fine?” his man asked.
“Yes, we are.”
“I have sent three men to go get those
hombres
who were here. One of the night guards came; they woke me and said there were some riders here.”
“Need me?”
“No, go back to sleep. By daylight, they will no longer breathe.”
No trouble for him. He understood the man's Mexican justice. Ahead of him, he herded his women down the hallway.
“Who hired these men, do you think?” Marge asked.
“No idea, but I suspect some of the southern powers. We'll see.” He guided her back inside their bedroom and they tried to sleep some more.
On his back, staring at the shadowy ceiling, he wondered who wanted his hide this time. Too many enemies, that was all he could think about as he laid uncomfortably on the sheet. He had to recover faster. He'd known that regaining his strength would be a slow process, but he didn't think it would be this endless.
Turned over on his side, he finally found some shut-eye, but it didn't answer his own question—about when he'd be completely himself again.
C
HAPTER
4
He shaved and went down to breakfast. Monica had coffee made like she expected him. She busied herself at the dry sink, slicing bacon. “You real hungry?”
“No.”
“I'll sure be glad when you get your appetite back.”
“Maybe when the baby comes, we'll all be better.”
“You worried about that?”
“I don't need to lose her.”
“You won't lose her. Childbirth is natural, maybe some strain and pain, but women do it every day.”
“I'll try to remember that.”
“Men can't get involved. Can't do anything but wring their hands and fret, so get ready.”
He laughed at her explanation. The coffee cup in both hands, his elbows on the table, he turned when someone came onto the back porch.
“Raphael,” she said to settle him.
Sombrero
in his hands, he came in the kitchen. “Señor, those men said an
hombre
named Larry Masters hired them. They were from Sonora and he paid them two-fifty to ride up here to kill you, and the rest he promised to pay them when they could prove you were dead.” Then he solemnly shook his head. “They won't ride home.”
“How much money did they have on them?”
“Close to two hundred.”
“Split it among your men, sell their horses, guns, and saddles. Do it quietly.”
“That is generous, señor.”
“No, that is how I do my men.”
“Do you know the man who hired them?”
“He's a man who manages a ranch that squatted on my new ranch down below.”
“If you would like him shot . . .” Raphael dropped his hat lower in front of his body, waiting for his answer.
“Thanks, I would rather confront him myself.”
“I savvy.”
Chet thanked the man and walked him to the door. Then he shook his hand. “You and your men are a great part of my Force. I can always sleep when I'm away, because you're prepared for any trouble.”
A few days later, the
Miner
newspaper reported:
Three unknown men of Mexican origin were found earlier this week hung by the neck east of Prescott Valley. According to County Sheriff Simms, the lynching is under investigation and his office is holding an ongoing investigation of their murders. No notes were left on the scene, so whether these men had appropriated another's horses is unknown. If you have any information please give it to the sheriff's office personnel at the Yavapai County Courthouse.
Chet thumped on the page with his thumb. “If I had Masters's mailing address, I'd send it to him and tell him he's next.”
“Maybe your lawyer could find it?” Marge asked.
Monica laughed. “I bet if Masters got it, he'd get over being constipated.”
He agreed with both women.
 
 
Two nights after the incident, Jesus arrived. He sent a wire from Hayden Mills saying when he'd arrive, and Jimenez was there to meet him at the stage depot and brought him out to the ranch. Looking a little tired, but smiling from ear to ear, he joined them for breakfast the next morning.
“Good to see you, ladies. You, too, boss man. Jimenez told me they tried to kill you a few nights ago.”
“They raided the place, but didn't get by Raphael's guards. His men ran them down, quizzed them, and then hung them, but that last part is secret. I won't tell my Force down there, but the outlaws said it was Buster's ranch manager, Masters, that hired them. I don't want JD or Roamer going over there and wringing his neck.”
“You met that
hombre
. I never did. I was feeding the women that trip.”
“They're still eating?”
“Oh, yes. But like you said, they need to go back to Mexico.”
“The land claim is a false one. So we'll be getting that ranch.”
“JD will be happy.”
“Maybe. Lots to do down there at Diablo, as JD calls it.”
“I know. How is everything up here?”
“Good. Hitch a buckboard. I'm going to town.”
“The poor man just got here,” Marge protested.
“No, señora. I am so glad to be back riding with him again, I will have no problem.”
“Finish your breakfast.”
Marge looked with a frown at her husband.
 
 
After they climbed the tall hill, and the horses went stiff legged down into the main business district and the courthouse, they found Preskitt bustling. Thumb Butte still stuck up in the west and he felt good to be back. The girls at the café hugged him. Jenn came out drying her hands to tell him Dodge had sent her a nice note to say he'd been delayed, and hoped he'd be able to visit them at a later date. Chet made a mental note to tell Marge. She'd be disappointed.
“What's the matter with the Tucson paper, writing that slanted story—Israel Clanton, a ranch manager, my backside?” Bonnie, JD's wife, looked upset. “He was worthless as everything back when the two of us were down there.”
“Hey, they haven't got anything better to write is all I can say.” He hugged her. “Blevins warned me the idle rich were mad we didn't let them in on it, and we have no plans to do that.”
Cole's wife, Valerie, added, “That bunch're always trying to run things. Jenn said you got chewed out by Sheriff Behan for not informing his mother about his death.”
Chet nodded at her. “You can tell who his friends are.”
They all laughed. After a cup of coffee they went to his land agent Bo's real estate office.
Bo had a desk piled high in paper. “See what sobering me up has cost?”
“No rush, but the lawyer in Tucson says the land filing is phony. As soon as he gets that cleared, I want to buy that ranch.”
“No problem. And I bought four homesteads that are patented land up near the Windmill. They have houses on them, but you know what they must be. All have water and one has alfalfa acreage. They ranged from five hundred to six hundred fifty dollars apiece. Two more pending deals.”
“Buy them. Even when the cattle drives are over, we can ranch up there. I want maps for Sarge to go look at them. He and Susie will be excited.”
“There are some places up by Reg, too, that I can buy.”
“Buy them. Get me a list and maps. They'll tell me how good we did.”
“Your people from Oak Creek Canyon, Leroy and Betty, brought me a flat of ripe strawberries yesterday—not a box, but a flat. Said they loved it up there and I was the reason you bought it. They're going to take some to Marge today.”
“They're good people.”
“He still can't get over you and Cole and Jesus rescuing him up there in Utah.”
“Part of our business. You spent any more of our money?”
“That's it for now. But I can't resist homesteaders with clean deeds wanting to move on from places that are near one of yours.”
“That's fine. Jesus and I need to see my banker next.”
Bo looked him over hard. “I'm damn glad you're still alive.”
Chet found Andrew Tanner busy and they took a seat. Someone went and whispered in his banker's ear and the tall man came to the door. “I'll be right with you. Good to see you.”
“Don't worry. I'm fine.”
Tanner nodded and went back to complete his business. Chet sat back down. “You understand banking?” he asked Jesus.
Jesus shook his head.
“How well can you read English?”
“Some.”
“Marge can make you a scholar. I want you to learn all you can about banking. You may have to read some kid's books before you get to the tougher ones. You'll have to practice numbers, night and day. But she can make you a banker.”
“Do you think so?”
“They are going to need Hispanic bankers. Even down at Tubac, those brothers couldn't borrow money to buy cows. They would be great ranchers. But they'd need a Hispanic banker.”
“I know what you mean. I will apply myself.”
“Glad that's settled. After this meeting, let's go by the mercantile. Then we can go home after that.”
“You getting tired?”
“I will be by then.”
Jesus smiled. “I won't tell anyone.”
“Good.”
His visit with Tanner took a while. The cattle money account was bulging. The banker was pleased, but he thought Chet should invest some of it in stocks and bonds.
“I'd invest in some young rancher you thought would pay me back.”
“There are some loan applications like that here.”
“Find some. We can go over them, say, on Friday morning?”
Tanner agreed. “Yes, that would help me, as well as the community.”
Chet and Jesus went by the store and he spoke to Ben Ivor and his pregnant wife, Kathrin, who was working at bookkeeping.
“I should of ordered a hundred mowing outfits,” Ben said. “But, I'm learning. I've found several. They're shipping them, but the hay season will be half over before they get here.”
“Sounds busy.”
“How is your wife?” Kathrin asked Chet.
“Doing fine. I'd say, any day now.”
“I bet she's ready.”
“Oh, me, too.”
“Glad to see you're back in one piece. I guess you're taking a long break from that work?”
“Not very long.”
“Sounds like you.”
The men shook hands, then Jesus drove him home.
“We can go see Tom tomorrow. Monica will have an early breakfast ready.” Chet climbed down from the buckboard.
“Need anything else?”
“No, it was a good day.”
“I'll be ready. Get some rest. I can tell you are getting stronger.”
“I'm getting there. Thanks. We better take the buckboard tomorrow.”
Jesus nodded and drove toward the barn.
After Chet washed up on the back porch, his wife hugged him.
“Everything in Preskitt is fine.”
He smiled at Monica. She was putting out lunch. He'd rather have gone to bed for a few hours than eat, but he couldn't. Her black coffee woke him some. But he didn't have much to say to either woman, and then excused himself, intending to sleep for a while.
“Did you get the mail?” Marge asked.
“No—forgot.”
Marge shook her head. “Get some sleep. I can tell you're ready to do that.”
He kissed her and waved at Monica. In a short while he was sound asleep on top of the bed quilt. When his wife came by and threw a blanket over him, he hardly stirred and went right back to sleep.
By late afternoon he was downstairs, but barely awake, when he received a wire. The young man who delivered it stood by, waiting for a reply.
THE FEDERAL TASK FORCE WAS AMBUSHED IN THE MINING DISTRICT SOUTHEAST OF PATAGONIA YESTERDAY. SEVERAL MEMBERS HAVE BEEN WOUNDED – ROAMER – COLE – JD. THE REST HAD MINOR WOUNDS. THEY ARE AT THE FORT HUACHUCA ARMY HOSPITAL. ALL SHOULD RECOVER. SEVERAL OUTLAWS WERE KILLED. THEY TOOK SEVERAL OF THEIR WOUNDED WITH THEM TO MEXICO. ROAMER THINKS THEY WERE WITH OLD MAN CLANTON. SHAWN.
“What is it?” Marge asked.
“They attacked the Force. It sounds like up in the live oak country east of Patagonia. According to Shawn, several were wounded but all should recover.”
“Shawn sent that?”
“He's a good man. He says our crew killed several of the ambushers. He thinks Old Man Clanton was responsible for the ambush.”
“What now?”
“I need to go back down there and get things straight.”
“I imagined you'd say that,” she said, looking disappointed. “But you aren't a hundred percent yet.”
“Marge, I have to get there. I'm sorry to leave you, but that Force is mine and those men are mine. I may have to raise a few more men. Clanton, if he's the one ambushed them, will pay.”
“I've lost two men in my life. I don't want to lose you, Chet Byrnes. But I do understand that tiger inside you. I've seen you go to great lengths to solve crimes and bring criminals to justice. For God's sake, though, for the baby and me, please be careful.”
He hugged her. “I will.”
Jesus was there by then. Chet told them they were taking the night stage to Hayden Mills and then showed him the telegram. His man read it slowly.
“Do you need me to read it for you?” Marge asked.
“No, I can read it.”
“Good. You two are off again.”
“No idea how bad they are hurt, huh?”
“No idea, but in about forty-eight hours we'll be there.”
“Yes, sir. I will be ready. Jimenez can carry us in there.”
“Right.”
Chet went upstairs and packed a war bag with Marge seated on the bed.
“I hate to leave you, but they need me.”
She nodded. “Old Man Clanton's thrown down the gauntlet on you, hasn't he?”
“I told Blevins I left him alone because I couldn't prove he did anything illegal in the states. That twenty-eight-year-old, Israel, shot in their raid, was running around pulling off robberies and raping women. That was his nephew. If I can prove he had one thing to do with this ambush, he better go to wearing his best suit.”
“Just remember, lots of us depend on you.”
“I know that, Marge. When it's settled, I'll be home. You and the baby take care. I'm counting on the two of you.”
She shook her head. “Just watch where you step. I love you, big man. The ranches need you, too.”

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