Ambush Valley (24 page)

“Oh.” She looked shocked at Chet. “You ended that at Rye, didn't you? I read that letter to the editor.”

“Yes, ma'am.” He used a turner to move the hashed potatoes and onion around in the skillet to brown them.

“The robbery-murder in last week's paper. You arrested those men?” she asked.

“And the ones that robbed the store in Camp Verde,” Hampt said, coming in the room. He hung a large hand over his head on the kitchen door. “My boss is a busy man.”

She frowned. “Why isn't the sheriff doing all this?”

Leif nodded. “Lots of us would like to know.”

She shook her head in wonder. “I need to get the biscuits out of the oven,”

Chet opened the oven door and he stepped aside for her. Next he stirred the scrambled eggs. “Besides, ma'am, I have a ranch to run. Now two of them. We're building one up on the rim east of Hackberry.”

“I bet folks elect you when the time comes.” She stood considering him as if in disbelief, and nodding firmly. “They will when the word gets out.”

“We'll see when the time comes.” Chet sidestepped for her to put the large tray of oven-hot browned biscuits on the table.

“You know those stage robbers that last year hung around up here?” Hampt said. “No one could stop them. He did that single-handed last fall.”

“I do know his wife and that explains why she's his wife,” she said, as if satisfied. “She knew a good man when he arrived here.” Then she laughed and about blushed. “You three are a mess. I felt so terrible just thirty minutes ago and here I am laughing with men who were strangers. I am amazed.”

“Good,” Hampt put a chair under her and moved her closer to the table. “That is the last civil thing I'll do tonight, getting you at the table.” He straddled a chair and sat down. “Here on it's everyone for themselves or they'll starve.”

They were all laughing.

“Gail, we need a description of the horses they stole,” Chet said.

“A bay and a sorrel. They have a T75 on their shoulders. The sorrel has one white hoof. My husband loves that horse, he calls him Sunny and the bay he uses to rope with. I know he's going to be screaming mad, but there was nothing I could do about it.”

“No problem. We'll do our damnedest to get them back.”

She quickly nodded.

“You better eat up, ma'am,” Hampt said with a soft elbow in her arm.

“Clay will be back tonight. I'll be better then.”

“Eat, you'll be fine,” he assured her.

“You aren't married, Mr. Tate?”

“No, ma'am. It just never worked out. Mind you I'm not complaining, but with cowboy's wages there ain't hardly room for one. But I'm looking hard and I may have to get me a new occupation if'n I ever find one.”

She shook her head as if she didn't believe him. “Where did these outlaws go?”

“We're leaving early to try to find them. We figured they might still be at Hassayampa City or they took a stage from there,” Chet said between bites of his hot biscuit with grape jam. “If your horses are there we will board them and send you a note.”

“Clay would appreciate that. The sorrel's his favorite horse.” She got up to pour more coffee. “I am very grateful for the three of you to be here this evening.”

“We appreciate you too, ma'am.”

“How early will you all get up?”

“We better leave about four,” Chet said.

“I'll have breakfast at three thirty.”

“We ain't—”

She cut Hampt off. “You aren't imposing. There.” She finished filling their cups.

They smiled and thanked her before they went outside to get some sleep. Chet looked at the million stars and wondered which one shone on those two bastards. He hated them before but worse than that now. A big job lay ahead for the three of them. Those two could slip away if they didn't push hard to capture them. He hoped daylight brought them more success.

Morning came too soon and in the cool predawn they dressed and headed for the house. Once in the lighted kitchen Chet could see she'd been crying some before.

“Morning, Gail. You all right?”

“I will be. Got to feeling sorry for myself.” She swallowed hard.

“Things will ease up when he comes home. My, my, you're spoiling the posse with those cinnamon rolls. I could smell them clear down at the horse corral.”

“I guess the others are coming?” She looked to try and see them.

“They're saddling the animals and packhorses.” He poured himself some coffee in a tin cup.

“I have one question—kind of private and you don't have to answer it if you think it is.”

“What?”

“Is your wife easy to live with?”

Chet laughed. “The easiest woman I can imagine. We went on a camping trip to buy the other ranch for our honeymoon. Does that say anything?”

“She didn't mind?”

“No.”

“Were you concerned about her?”

“Last year, yes. But I didn't know her then, until I guess she came to my aid when my nephew was murdered by those stage robbers.”

She snickered and turned away. “Did she really pay all your bills?”

“Yes, and I made her take the money.”

“I heard that too. I can see why—you are a leader of men.”

“Thanks, but don't be too impressed. I'm just another Texas cowboy.”

She gave him a small push aside to get to her biscuits and rolls in the oven. “No, I know better.”

“Wow,” Hampt said. “It is
larruping
smelling in here.”

Everyone laughed.

They rode off before the predawn painted the eastern mountaintops pink. His gray was feeling his oats and they rode down alongside a dry branch until they topped another rise and could see the various houses of Hassayampa City in the first light. The structures were in the midst of some tall saguaro cactus. Fighting roosters crowed while milk cows bawled for their calves.

Chet found a man at the livery forking hay. He stopped him. The man, dressed in overalls, leaned on his pitchfork. “We're looking for two men that rode in here yesterday on horseback.”

“Stolen ones?”

“Yes, they stole them from the Cloud ranch.”

“I know Clay Cloud's horses when I see them. And them two galoots were riding them.”

“Did they ride on?”

“I think they rode up Roble's Canyon to some buddy's place. Do you know him?”

“No, who is he?”

“Ross Harold. I never seen them come back from there.”

“Another way out?”

The man nodded and spat tobacco aside. “It would be tough.”

“How close can we get on horses?” Hampt asked, looking around.

“Oh, if I didn't want to be seen, I'd leave my horses at the spring.”

“Is it obvious?” Chet asked.

“It runs water down that canyon.”

“It's obvious.” Chet looked at the mountain walls studded with the great cactus everywhere. Any way out of this place looked difficult, as steep as those mountainsides were around them.

“Let's water our horses, then ride up there.”

Hampt joined him. Under his breath he asked, “You think they are still here?”

Leif came over to hear his answer.

Chet nodded. “Good chance they are.”

“You men after them two?” the liveryman asked.

“Yes, we tracked them down from Crown King to where they stole the horses. They'd also mistreated Mrs. Cloud the night before. Two days before they robbed the store up there and shot Deputy Roamer.”

“Can I go along to help?”

“Sure, if you won't shoot us,” Chet said.

The man laughed, said his name was Stanley, and they introduced themselves and shook his hand.

“I'll get a horse to ride,” Stanley said, and went to get him.

When he was gone, Chet told them, “He's a calm enough man to go along.”

The other two agreed, busy watering the horses at his trough. Chet looked again where Stanley had pointed out Robles Canyon. It was a large gorge in the wall of mountain on the left, and beyond most of the scattered jacales. Were the shooters still up there? They'd be plain lucky if they did find them up there.

They rode around the small businesses, saloons, a store or two, and the stage depot where he had gotten off the hard seat in the coach for a short reprieve and stretched his legs. He recalled helping Marge off and back on the stage there under the stars that night on his first trip to Preskit. Lots of water had gone under his bridge since then. He felt good thinking about her. And a relief to know more about those two thugs who shot Roamer and raped Mrs. Cloud.

The trail up the canyon was under a few tall, gnarled cottonwoods. There was some thick brush and lots of small birds flitting about, choked in between the tall sheer cliffs. The ring of their shod horses was loud above the crush of the gravel beneath them. The trail wound upward and some buzzards drifted on the updraft overhead.

When he sighted the water spilling over a granite boulder, he stopped the others behind him.

“Is this the spring?” he asked softly over his shoulder.

“Stanley says yeah,” Hampt gave a stage whisper.

“Hobble the horses, so no one can stampede them if they get by us.”

They set into doing that, then, armed with their rifles, went around the small, clear spring pool and started up the steep grade. When he at last could see the shack against the bluff wall, there was no one in sight.

“It's pretty well open ground from here,” Chet said. “We need to spread out and watch for any movement. Hit the ground at the first sight of any resistance.”

The posse members nodded and they moved apart, rifles cocked and ready. The way was rocky and steep. Nothing moved. Then a sorrel horse raised his head up and looked at them from a rough pole corral.

“Stanley, is that Clay Cloud's red horse?”

“It is, sir.”

The answer sobered him to the reality.

“Hold it right there!” someone ordered, and everyone dropped down to the ground.

“Listen to me,” Chet shouted. “You send out those two men Ryder and Bender. Then no one will get shot I promise you—or else you will die with them. They're wanted dead or alive.”

“We ain't giving up.”

“Then put on your Sunday clothes, 'cause we'll bury you in them.”

“Who the hell are you?”

“The men who trailed you from Crown King. Now get out here, 'cause we won't stop shooting till you all are dead.”

Chet lowered his voice and told the others to fire two rounds in the windows of the cabin.

“Here's my reply.”

The loud reports of their guns cracked the canyon silence in ear-shattering blasts.

“Hold your fire,” someone inside shouted. “Hold your fire.”

He nodded grimly. Two Hispanic women came out coughing on the dust.

“That may be a shield,” Chet said sharply.

Hampt, on the right with his rifle at his shoulder, ran to the side to better see the outlaws coming out. He stopped and aimed clearly at the two men. “Where is the other guy?”

“I'm coming.”

“Make it quick,” Hampt said.

“You women step aside. Keep going. You men get belly down on the ground.”

The posse members searched them for weapons and tied their hands in back. Stanley went and led the two Cloud horses out of the pen. Leif handed Chet the round-handle handgun that he'd taken off the taller outlaw.

He nodded as he examined it. “This is the pistol the store man mentioned he shot Roamer with.”

“See if there's any money inside.” When he said that the two women started to move to the shack. “Hold it there and sit on the ground right there.”

They obeyed.

“I can guard them.” Chet said to his men, “Look close for all of it.”

“Hey I got rights. That's my money in there,” the other tied-up man shouted.

“Hiding them makes you an accessory. You have no rights in this matter for my part. Do you know what they did to Mrs. Cloud?”

“I don't know.”

“They raped her.”

“I didn't do nothing.”

“If I was the judge I'd hang you with your horse stealing partners.”

“You can't do that.”

He looked at the man. “I know where there's cottonwood trees at the base of this mountain that could stretch your neck, you better not keep challenging me.”

Hampt came out with a bundle of money tied up in a shirt. “I think we got it all.”

“Good.” He made the three get on their feet and herded them to where Stanley had saddled the horses they stole.

“Put a lead rope on those horses. I don't want them getting away.”

“What's your damn name?” the tall one, Ryder, asked.

Chet backhanded him and snapped his head around. “Shut up. I'm not listening to the worthless words you have to say.”

“What about me?” Ross Harold asked.

“I ought to haul you to Preskit and let the judge fine you, but your women can let you loose when we get out of here. Not yet!” His shout made the two Mexican women quickly sit back on the ground.

The posse had their prisoners on the two saddled horses. They were started for the spring and off the mountain. Chet waited until the others were out of sight, then he started after them.

Leif led the procession off the mountain. When they were gone around the bend, Chet mounted the gray and followed them. He didn't entirely trust the man Stanley called Ross Harold, probably a bootlegger and someone who handled rebranded cattle. Some day he might have to ride back and catch him red-handed. Not his job this day—but he might need to consider it more seriously as the summer passed. Sims damn sure wouldn't do anything about the like. There were others in this country who needed rooting out and sending elsewhere.