A Good Day To Kill (6 page)

“Then their reserves came from somewhere and they acted interested in getting the bodies off the field. That's an oak-juniper country and really tough to get around.” Shawn shook his head. “They didn't bring rifles back, thank God.”

“Do you think those reserves were supposed to be there at the start of the attack?” Chet asked.

“Probably, but we had the original ones cut down so bad, they would never have gained the edge again,” Roamer said.

Captain Evans laughed. “I liked the tall target story. Him ordering in German to Mexicans what he wanted done.”

Everyone laughed.

“You think that was how they cut down the Skeleton Canyon pack train?” Cole asked.

Chet nodded. “Yes, but they must have had some rifles there.”

“What's next, boss man?”

“Take our horses to Ortega's. Get on a stagecoach for home. Take three weeks and see what we can do best after that. We should be healed by then.”

“I'd vote for that,” JD said.

The rest nodded.

“Evans, you have anything on Clayton's sons?” Chet asked.

“Mostly drunks. Small crimes, and they hold up stages on both sides of the border.”

“Maybe we can round them up when we come back.”

Evans agreed with a nod. “I bet you could get them cold-handed. I have a half-dozen Apache bucks that love to trail people. You need trackers, send me word.”

Everyone nodded.

“I'll have them feed you some lunch and you can get on your way.”

“You ready to pull out for Tubac?” Roamer asked Chet, sounding concerned about his strength.

“I'm fine. You have a horse for me to ride?”

“By damn, we can get one for you.”

“Let's move out then. I want to thank you and the Army.” Chet shook the Captain's hand.

“I wished they'd still been hanging around when my scouts found them.”

“Yeah,” JD said. “We'd have let them in on the action.”

Evans assured them the Army would help in any way possible. In an hour, Chet on one of his roans, they all headed westward. It was a long day and after sundown when Ortega's wife, Maria, greeted them.

“Oh, I am so glad, Chet, you are alright. Is something wrong?”

“Oh, we're a little bunged up, but we're going to take a break. The men will go home and get rested. Where's Ortega?”

“They took some cattle to Tucson for a man. They did not know you were coming back so soon.”

The brothers were not back in the morning. Maria said it would take them several days to drive the stock up there and sell them.

“No problem. We didn't know yesterday we were doing this, either. All will be fine. Can you feed my horses while we're gone?”

“I can do that. It is so good to see that you are alright,” she said.

“And Ortega will need to take those deserted women some food this week.”

“No problem. What are you going to do with them?”

“Take them back to Mexico. But I'm too damn busy right now.”

Maria laughed and hugged him. “You are always too busy.”

Cole found him a bedroll. They were unsure where his roll went after he'd been shot.

She offered to feed them, but instead they gnawed on some jerky before they turned in.

“Breakfast in the morning,” she promised, and left them.

After breakfast, Shawn used the ranch buckboard to take them into Tubac. They found a mail wagon headed north, and Chet offered four dollars to the Mexican driver to transport him and Jesus to Tucson. Saddles, bedrolls, and war bags were transferred, and they headed north at a good trot.

“My name is Pablo,” said the driver.

“I'm Chet and he's Jesus.”

“You must have much business in Tucson?”

“Yes, we're U.S. Marshals.”

“Oh, I see. You are the Force, huh?”

“Yes, we're part of it.”

“God bless you,
hombres
. I will drive, feeling much safer on my route with you riding with me.”

“Good. That's why we're here.”

Late that evening, the two took a hotel room and then went out to eat. Jesus knew a nice Mexican food place with soft music and a dancer. He promised Chet great food. It was all of that, and afterward they went back in the breathless city night to their hotel.

“Sure be nice to be home,” he said, pushing into the room.

“Oh, much better.” Jesus laughed.

After a sidewalk breakfast from a vendor, they went by and saw Marshal Blevins. Chet knew he'd be there, since his boss was an early morning man. They had a nice conversation, and Blevins hoped they could return and finish their efforts.

“I plan to do that. We need some time to heal. I need to see about my wife and my ranches, then we'll be back.”

Blevins shook his hand. “I'm counting on that. You've sure done your part here.”

When they left his office, the day's heat had set in. At the law office, his secretary said Russell Craft would see them right away.

“Well, the head man of the federal force is here. Have a chair, Chet. Nice to see you, too, young man.”

“Any news on our real estate problem?”

“I have spoken to the prosecutor and he acts like maybe he doesn't want to go forward with this case.”

“That would be like me letting captured killers return to Mexico unscathed. Prosecuting criminals is his job.”

“It might be good for you to tell the prosecutor what his job is.”

“I can do that.”

“What else?”

“Buster's man, Masters, hired killers to shoot me at my home. Promised them two-fifty more when they killed me.”

“I'm sorry. You've done a tough job down here. The prosecutor should be on your side.”

“What is this prosecutor's name?” Chet asked his lawyer.

“Niles Proctor.”

“I met with several businessmen and lawmen who wanted the law enforced when I came down here and set up my command. You think he was there?”

“I doubt it.”

“As a U.S. Marshal, can I request his help on this crime?”

“You sure have that authority. And, at your request, a judge could call on him to answer why he's not working on it.”

“I'll do that. I intend to buy that ranch and make it a working one.”

“I'll remain on the case for you. It's a simple case of fraud.”

They shook hands.

“You ever trout-fish?” Chet asked.

“Oh, yes.”

“I have some rough cabins up on Oak Creek. Drop a line in and it's a cool, sweet place to hook fish.”

“I'll be up to see you.”

“Let me know when you're coming. Take a stage to Preskitt, and one of my men will show you up there.”

“I will make plans to do that.”

“I'm going over to see Proctor.”

When they crossed to the federal court building, the day's heat was already building. They found Proctor in his office. When his secretary showed Chet into the office, he blinked and took his flat shoes off the desk. “Marshal?”

“Marshal Byrnes. I came to see you about this scandal over some false filings in the courthouse land office. I believe it was done to gain control of a large plot of land and was done by some prominent people.”

“You have any proof?”

“A grand jury could pry it out of them. If you don't get rolling on this, I plan to speak to the Chief Justice about your neglecting your job.”

“You . . . you . . . can't threaten me.”

“I can, and I'll take the top off this building when I do. If you don't have this grand jury under way in ten days, I'll call in the judges and find out why.”

“You can't do that.”

“Your buddies, Weeks and Townsend, are in my sights. But there are others who were going to get rich by stealing that ranch. I say you know who they are.”

“I won't be threatened.”

“I'm not threatening you. I will press for this. Are you ready to get on with it?”

“Listen, you little Texas rich boy. Folks have trouble making a living here, and small deals ain't that important.”

“If I shot your wife this afternoon and said she got in my way, would you defend me that I was only trying to make a living?”

“That's crazy.”

“There's a ring here ruling things about business. Now if you want them on the front page, then you refuse to bring this bunch to the bar. I have more power than you think. Besides, I'm not some little rich Texas boy. I stand six feet tall. I'm an Arizona resident. I'm a livestock rancher and, also, a deputy U.S. Marshal. And if Old Man Clanton messes with me again, he'll be in Boot Hill with his nephew.”

“You're a gawdamn fool!”

“I may be, and you may be in Utah next, if you don't get it done.” Chet knew federal judges and prosecutors hated to be assigned to Utah worse than Arizona. He turned to leave. “I'm counting. Get your ass busy.”

Outside the office in the hall, a smiling Jesus joined him. “You are mad. Did you do any good?”

“We'll know in a few weeks.” He lowered his voice. “He's tied into this ring. They don't want to be investigated. I promised him they'd be next. He may have to decide what he wants.”

Crossing the blazing-hot street, Chet looked over at his man. “Wouldn't it be nice to be back home?”

“Let us get stage tickets. Hell, I hate this place.”

“Let's go.”

“Yes.”

They headed home at eight o'clock and even the moonlit desert north of Tucson felt cooler as they rocked northward. He soon slept.

Hayden Ferry matched Tucson's heat, but he and Jesus arrived there late in the day. Due to repairs being done on the coach, the Black Canyon Stage hadn't left yet, so they bought seats. He wired Marge they were coming. Tired because of his still sore shoulder, he hoped he could rest at home.

Jesus woke him on the stage-line bench. “I have all our things aboard. JD and Cole came through here last night. They're all split up, like you asked.”

Chet smiled at him. “Wonder why those newlyweds want to be the first ones home?”

They both laughed.

That night, the stage swept them out of the desert's heat into the mountains' coolness. He could smell the pines and felt better when he disembarked and shook Jimenez's hand.

“Good to have you back, señor.”

“Jesus and I can say the same thing. No baby?”

“No baby yet, señor. We are all waiting.”

He could imagine his wife was as well.

“I will get our things,” Jesus said after him.

“Thanks, pard. Sleep in. We both need some rest.”

Jesus waved that he heard him and in the starlight headed in the opposite direction. That boy was so damn dedicated to him, he wouldn't listen. Chet was grateful for such loyal help.

Marge hugged him in the dark on the back porch. “Sneaking in?”

“Yeah. How are you?”

“Full.”

“I'm here to help for a few weeks, until my men are all rested.”

“Can I say, I'm sure tired of being a mama in waiting? Oh, it's so nice to have you home—I won't complain any more, I promise.”

“Hell, complain all you want. I won't tell anyone.”

“Good. Is everyone alright?”

“No one is seriously hurt. They ran into a bad enough ambush, but the enemy didn't take them serious enough in the first place. They shot their way out.”

“What now?”

“We rest. Get ourselves back together and beat them again.”

“Your new ranch?”

“Oh, it will be ours shortly. That will be alright.”

“How will you handle it?”

“Get me a foreman and go from there.”

“Will JD stay there long enough to run it?”

“I think so, or I have a man better than Raphael to run it.”

“Who is that?”

“Ortega Ninni.”

“Oh, I'm keeping you awake. You hungry?”

“No, let's sleep.”

They hurried upstairs; he undressed and the cool night air washed over his bare skin. Good to be back home and away from all that damn heat.

They slept past dawn. He started the boiler and took a shower, shaved, and dressed in the fresh clothes Marge laid out for him. Felt good, and he went down to join his wife and Monica.

“Strawberries and blackberries are from Oak Creek,” his wife said, setting the two bowls on the table. “That Leroy is a genius at growing things. He's going to have peaches and apples this fall. Oh, and cherries are about ripe.”

“You made it back in one piece,” Monica said.

“I'm here.”

She put a plate of food in front of him. “Eat. We have big things for you to do.”

“What's that?”

“I don't know yet, but you won't sit there long before some damn fool will come by and need you.”

They laughed.

“Is it hot down there?” she asked.

“Hotter than hell.”

“I used to live down there,” Monica said. “You were smart to buy ranches up here where it's cooler.”

“I agree.”

After breakfast, he found Jesus shoeing horses at the big barn. His man looked up and smiled. “They were behind on this job.”

“Hitch a team and we'll run down and see Tom.”

“I'll have them up and ready in a few minutes.”

“Going to rain?” he asked Jesus.

“Better wear a long coat.”

“I can do that.”

They were soon on the road. Jesus had picked a fast team and lost no time heading to the top and then down the long mountain grade to the Verde Valley. They rolled into Chet's sister's front yard in a cloud of dust. When she rushed out to greet them, he hugged and kissed her, then held her off and smiled at her new size.

“How are you, Susie?”

“Big. You look good. I can fix lunch. Tie them up, Jesus, and come in.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“How is the house at the Windmill Ranch coming along?” he asked.

“Slow. I should have ordered a three-room shack.”

“No, you'll be proud of this one.”

“Oh, heavens, yes, I will. But me being so big and so anxious is all hard on me.”

He hugged her. “You'll make it.”

“I think it's raining up on the mountain. Was that thunder?” she asked Jesus.

“Clouds were building when we left up there.”

“Good, we can use it.”

Tom dropped by to join them. The men sat at the table and enjoyed her rich coffee.

“My corn crop sure needs some moisture down on the Verde,” said Tom.

“You have it where you can water it?”

“Yes, but rain beats irrigation on small grain.”

“How is the new alfalfa?”

“Doing great, but I didn't spit on it like Hampt did.”

“What is that?” Chet asked, amused.

“Man, he has babied it. But that cowboy is going to beat us. He has a wonderful set on his new land. I think he used more of the black dust on the seed than I did and it shows.”

“Can you catch him?”

“I doubt it. I didn't take it serious enough. He did. I'll let him plant the new stands.”

“You two may fight over this. I'm grateful we're going to have so many acres of good feed for our stock. We can push our Hereford bull calves to use them at two years of age.”

“I've tried.”

“Tom, I'm not complaining. We're all learning this ranching business out here, and we'll be a tougher team because of this.”

“We're doing all of our own hay this year. We have all this ground down here in hay. Save for the cornfield, which, I think, can help us. Most of the alfalfa land you bought is doing good. We're re-fencing it with barbwire. The range has lots of grass and now that rain is drumming down, God is smiling at me.” He indicated the sounds on the roof.

“Tom, I'm as proud of this place as I can be. We still need to learn how to ranch better all the time.”

“I can't believe we've got this far from the mess Ryan left us.”

“Amen. Let's hold back some three-quarter blood bull calves that are well muscled and look more Hereford than longhorn. I think we can find a market for them. We aren't the only ones running around looking for bulls to improve their herds.”

Tom agreed. “We could sell a few. It might help some folks get more from their cattle.” He started to rise from the table but settled again when Chet waved him back.

“Tom, I'm not disappointed at anything you've done here. This is a helluva big job. But I can be gone and I never lift my head at night worrying about this ranch or its operation.”

“I know, but Hampt beat me this time.”

“No, you both won. Tell Millie hi. You getting any berries?”

“Wow, yes. We all are. Leroy is really good at that stuff. He's happier than a full pig in the sunshine. You hired another winner. I've eaten more strawberries this spring than any time in my entire life.”

“Did you really think he could do that?” Susie asked Chet.

“I knew he was a farmer. He never before had all the good dirt and water he has up there.”

“Those nephews of yours think it's heaven to go up there, catch fish, and eat fruit all day. Tell Tom about Rancho Diablo,” Susie said.

“Massive place down there. Hot and dry, but lots of feed. Developing water will be the big push. Their land claim is fake. The judge will order them off. Before it's all over with, there may be some shots fired. It was Buster's man, Masters, who hired those killers to come to the house and kill me.” He paused and shook his head. “I spoke to the prosecutor in Tucson about calling a grand jury investigation. I think it will step on some of the Tucson ring members. I threatened to call in the federal judges if he didn't move on it.”

“How big is this new place?” Tom asked.

“Forty-eight thousand acres, plus the deeded places that Bo is buying around it. He has a half-dozen homesteads he's bought around Windmill, too. He's making Sarge a list. Most of those are completed homesteads that usually have good wells. And some more for Reg. We are expanding.”

“Who will run the Diablo?” Susie asked.

“JD wants a chance. Two of the men helping my posse, the Ortega brothers, want to help him. They are
vaqueros
like Raphael's men. Tough as cactus ribs.”

“How much longer will you be on the border?” Tom asked.

“I hope no longer than six months. Then Blevins can get himself a new head for the Force.”

“Who would he get?”

“I imagine Roamer, if he'd take it.”

“How will you ever come back here, settle down, and simply be boss?” Susie asked.

“That we would have to see about, sister dear.”

Chet checked on John, the blacksmith, and the barbwire process. It was really going and John smiled when he saw him.

“Can't sell you any wire. You're the third man today dropped by to ask me.”

He stuck out his bare hand and they shook.

“You're doing a helluva job,” Chet said over the rattle of the twisting wire.

“I'd bet there's an engineer somewhere doing this full steam in a plant. But we're not doing bad. My crew has it down and I can't see us making it any faster.”

“Don't worry, you're doing excellent.”

“Thanks. Hampt says the cattle don't mess with it.”

“That counts.”

In the buckboard, Jesus swung it around and he studied the rim off in the north. He planned to go see Reg and Lucie in the next few days. He and Jesus stopped to shrug on their canvas coats—it was raining again. Thank God.

Their drive home was a wet one, but he wasn't mad for a moment of it. He and Jesus laughed and joked about it. Thunder rumbled and more wind swept them. A helluva great day to be in Arizona.

The big house was being pelted by more moisture and there were three buckboards with soaked teams, heads down, parked in the yard. Marge must be in labor.

He jumped off the seat and hit the sloppy ground on the run headed for the back door. In the back porch, he took off his soaked hat and coat, then his muddy boots, and looked up at Jenn's face.

“Anything wrong?”

She shook her head at him. “No. None of us wanted to miss the event.”

“Is it close?”

“He should be here before the sun goes down.”

“He?”

“That's my guess. You can go in the living room where they've set up Marge's bed. Then go up and change clothes. Those look damp. How are things down there on the Verde?”

“Busy, like always.”

Marge lay under a sheet on the bed in the living room, and he took her hand and squeezed it. Head bent over, he gave his flush-faced wife some words of encouragement. Her head nodded and she gave him a shining smile. That made him feel better and he started upstairs to change. This would be a long evening for both of them.
Lord help her
.

After changing, he slipped back downstairs and into the kitchen. Monica nodded at him.

“Any problems?”

“I don't think so. But the midwife told me she wanted the doctor here. I sent for him, and Jenn as well, since they've become such good friends after going to Tombstone to care for you. They're both here.”

“You did well. Who else is here? There are three rigs out there.”

“Kathrin Ivor. Didn't you see her?”

“Faces were blurring on me. Yes, I know Kathrin.”

“She told Marge she owed you her life for bringing her out of Utah. She knows Marge is very important to you, and she wanted to do anything she could for her.”

He picked up a fork and started on the roast beef, gravy, and mashed potatoes. “I wonder if this would be easier if I was ten years younger.”

Monica laughed. “No.”

He nodded and went on eating. This would be a long day for him, as well as for Marge.

Minutes rolled by like hours. He spoke twice to Kathrin and thanked her for coming. To pass the time, he went to the horse barn and talked to Jesus, Jimenez, and Raphael. They were little help.

Close to sundown, Jenn came for him at the barn.

“What is it?”

“You will know soon enough.”

“Aw, come on.”

“She'll show you the answer.”

Marge was sitting up and looking tired. Hair in her face, she swept it back and with a huge smile held up a red-faced baby to him. “Here's our son, Chet.”

“Yes . . .” He paused. “Thank you, Lord. Thank you, Marge. Thank all of you for helping her and me—what did you call him?”

“Adam Chester Byrnes.”

“Well, Adam Chester, you've got lots ahead of you around here.” The baby in his arms yawned like it was all beyond him.

Marge nodded. “Does he suit you?”

“Fine. You're alright?”

“I'm doing fine.”

“Good. He's a great boy.”

So his son was there at last. Things at home should settle down. He rocked the baby in his arm. One more of his widespread family.