Ambush Valley (33 page)

Raphael agreed.

“There are several abandoned mines and shacks down there.”

“We'll find them.” He hurried his horse.

“This time I will be with you to help.”

“
Gracias
,
mi amigo
. We must put an end to this bunch.”

“Oh,
sí
. The
señora
told me to bring you back in one piece.”

“Thanks for her.”

The smaller man agreed.

The two men took to a steep cow trail up the hillside that ran parallel to the valley. Chet's horse took the mountain in great lunges that jarred his sore shoulder. He glanced back and saw his partner was coming the same way. Sight of the others was gone, but he knew they went up this way.

Tracks showed they went down as hard as they came up. Then he saw them in the scattered pines on the floor of the next flat, still headed south.

“We need a long rifle,” Raphael said.

Chet agreed and the powerful horse on his heels went back downward. Dangerous business, going off like this, but he wanted those two and had no time. Talus rocks slid under his horse's hooves, and he scrambled for his footing. To Chet's relief, they were off the worst of the steep slope and on another flat when he set out in a hard run.

He'd lost sight of them when his man came back to ride beside him.

“Any ideas?”

“There is an abandoned mine maybe a few miles farther.”

Their horses were foamed in sweat on their chests and breathing harder with each thud of a hoof. They couldn't continue this pace much farther. Then he saw something and his partner pointed to a downed horse on the ground.

“That's their horse.”

“Sí.”
They slid their horses to a stop.

He flew off his mount. The sweaty horse lay on his side and breathed hard. The rifle in the scabbard was pinned underneath him. Good, they never got that one. His own Winchester in his hand, he studied the scattered pines and junipers for any sight of them. Then he heard a muffled, “Hurry.”

He shared a nod with his man and they rushed toward the south. The grade was upward and he knew they were in the open too much of the time charging after the pair. His boots clambered over the black boulders spewed out from some volcanic source thousands of years before. The hard-breathing Mexican was keeping up.

Then he saw the weathered black boards of the mine tower and dropped to his knee. They could be up there. Too far a shot for a pistol, but if they had a rifle they were close to being in range.

“That's the Towson Mine.”

“Will your men send us help?”

“It will be daylight tomorrow, I bet, before they can find us.”

“Maybe your men can find us. His desk deputies couldn't find their own tracks let alone ours.”

“That means we must take them, huh?”

“We can try. Keep an eye on that tower and the windows to see if they come to one and look for us.”

“Get down!”

Chet hit the rocks and swung the rifle around. That puff of smoke came from the middle of the tower window. No need to shoot—they left that one. He'd thought they'd go higher to get a better shot at them.

“Listen to me,” he shouted through his cupped hands. “If you don't give up and come out with your hands in the air, we're going to burn you out.”

Raphael agreed. “That would make a big fire. How come I never think of that?”

Chet laughed. “You don't have an evil enough mind.”

“I guess I don't. But I sure hate those men for what they did to you. How did you get so dirty? I never saw you like that.”

“Wait. I think I heard him say they were coming.”

“Good thing, or they could be roasted gooses, huh?”

The two watched for them. Someone was packing the second man, obviously wounded. They stopped in the open.

“Be careful, Raphael. They aren't defanged rattlers yet.”

“
Sí
, I understand.”

“Keep your rifle ready, they may try something yet. You go more to the left so we aren't easy to shoot at.”

“I savvy. I don't see any weapons.”

Step by step, they covered the ground. Any wrong movement and he intended to shoot them down.

“We ain't got no guns.”

“Just be damn sure you don't,” Chet warned them.

“Who is the wounded man?” his man asked.

“That's his foreman who's shot. Carl is the other man.”

“You bastards killed my brother or I'd never gave up.”

“What in the hell did you expect me to do? Let him kill me?”

“I'll get you, Chet Byrnes, if it takes all of my life.”

“Better not waste it.” He checked them for weapons. When he finished, he told them to sit down on the ground.

“Raphael, go get some more horses. This job is over.”

“No, it ain't,” Carl said.

Filled with rage, Chet set down his rifle and jerked the shorter man up to his feet by a fistful of his shirt. “Listen, weasel, in Texas I'd already have hung you. I can still do it here and probably get a hero's welcome in town, but I'm not going to. I want you and your worthless foreman here to rot in Yuma prison. Or maybe bake. Now count your blessings 'cause I can still hang you if you're going to run off with your filthy mouth at me.”

Hartley never said another word. Raphael went for help. Chet set in to guard the two men after he tied Hartley up. Loftin was in pain from his gunshot wounds and moaned a lot. He might not make it, but Chet did not consider himself enough of a doctor to help him. It was a live or die situation, and he had no hand in it either way.

Coyotes yelping broke the night and the cooler air set in on the wings of a soft wind. His belly complained of hunger and he wondered how upset his wife must be. First the buckboard arrived home with a driver and the sun had gone down. All she knew is that he'd gone after them.

He could still recall the sight of her in the buckboard seat when she came to help him after the road agents had killed his nephew Heck. She looked like an angel to him that day with wings and all. Up to that moment, she'd been a woman of interest, no more. But he saw her sincerity then, and the following days she helped arrange for Heck's burial and the rest. The whole effort on her part left him with a deep place in his heart for her. He couldn't wait to hug and kiss her.

These two meant nothing to him. They could face the judge and be banished to prison—good enough for the likes of them. But his family and the ranch operation were beginning to work. His cattle deal with the Navajos would move them forward. They'd soon be in the position they held in Texas—one of security.

After midnight, they carried a torch, the one leading the posse held high. Chet rose stiff and sore with his rifle in his hand. He heard her cry out his name and she came holding her dress high on the run.

She flew into his arms—crying. “He said you were all right. But I had to know that. Are you—all right?”

He clutched her form tight to his chest and smelled her sweet-smelling hair. “God, yes, I'm all right. Now you're here. It's been a long night, but it's over.”

“You know his brother is dead?”

“I heard that. No loss. Did the sheriff come this time?”

“Of course not. We didn't bother. These are my cowboys and a few neighbors. They want you to take them in. You ran them down, you and Raphael need to show them what you've done.”

“I'd only stir up more trouble with Sims.”

“No, it's time you made an appearance and people can see how much you do for them.”

“All right. All right. I'll do that for you.”

He took the reins to the horse he'd ridden there from Raphael and thanked him.

“No, I want to thank you for what you have done for me. I want you to be my best man, too.”

“When is this?”

“In a few weeks.”

“Who are you marrying?”

“Why, Monica, of course.”

Chet nodded. “Of course. Monica will be a good bride for you.”

“
Sí
, I love her,
amigo
. We have that wounded man loaded, but he is not so good, no?”

“He's in bad shape. Is there a wagon at the road?”

“
Sí
. They brought her out here in that. Then she took a horse.”

“We can take him in that rig to Preskit.”

Raphael nodded, looking very serious under the stars. “If he lives that long.”

With grim agreement, he clapped the man on the shoulder. “He came to kill me. But that is all we can do from here.”

Then he boosted his wife back on her horse and mounted his own. The men were headed back for the road. He pushed his mount in close to her and they held hands for a short moment.

It would be way past dawn when they reached Preskit. The solemn posse, in a parade of wagon and horseback riders, came off the steep hill to descend to the courthouse, turning heads and gathering a large crowd when they reached Whiskey Row and turned south. At the west door of the courthouse a deputy came outside and frowned at them.

Chet pushed his horse in closer. “These two men are wanted. The one in the wagon is badly wounded and needs medical attention. Carl Hartley needs to be locked up.”

“You don't run the sheriff's office. I will need to contact him and see what this is about.”

“What is your name?”

“Guy Masters. Why?”

“I will see the new sheriff fires you. There are warrants for both these men on his desk. Either you accept them as prisoners or we will lynch them.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“I am not threatening you. I am telling you what this posse can do.”

“I have no orders—”

“Get me a rope, Raphael.” Chet held out his hand.

Her foreman pushed his horse in close and handed him a lariat.

“All right, but I am only holding him for twenty-four hours.”

“Masters, if you cut him loose, you will serve a term in Yuma for breaking the law. Take him in the jail. Raphael, take that buckboard down to Doc's place and get Loftin some medical attention. He won't run off. Take the dead man's body to the funeral parlor.”

He reined his horse back as two of the men herded Hartley. “I'm buying drinks at the Palace. One round. Thanks.”

He rode his horse across the road and handed the reins to Marge. “I need to pay for these drinks. I won't be long.”

“Will we eat breakfast at Jenny's?”

“Sure. I can hitch him. Go over there and order us some food.”

She smiled. “Go pay your bar bill. I'll have it waiting for you.”

“Thanks.” He went inside and waved the bartender over. “Two beers each for my men.”

The bartender climbed on the bar and counted fourteen men. “Dollar and a half.”

He put the money on the counter. Jane came by and nodded. “You must've arrested them?”

“Willis is dead. Carl and his foreman were arrested.”

“I like Bo sober. I am going to marry him.”

“Keep him that way. I'll buy the dress.”

Her brown eyes flew open. “You'll what?”

“My wife will help you choose a wedding dress. I'll tell her all about it and she will send you a note to meet her. Good luck.”

“Thanks.” She looked about to cry and left him.

He waved good-bye to the men at the bar and went for his horse. He had a breakfast to eat and his belly said he was ready.

On the big bay horse, he rode the three blocks to Jenny's and dismounted. It looked like there was a crowd. He shrugged and went in to find his wife.

“Over there,” Jenny directed him.

“What in the hell is going on in here?”

“This is a meeting of the Byrnes for Sheriff Committee. We are holding this to convince you to run for the office.”

A cheer went up.

He frowned at his wife. Their breakfasts were set before her.

“I knew nothing about this.”

“I am starved. I'll eat. You have the meeting.” He took up the napkin and sat down.

“We didn't expect you to be here, Mr. Byrnes,” a small gray-haired man said, standing up. “But since you are here, all of us want to encourage you to run for sheriff.”

He held the cup of coffee in his hands. The warmth felt good. Its aroma filled his nose and he nodded at him. “My ranch operation grows more extensive. I really don't have the time. Your members can find a good man who will do the job.”

“You seem to end up doing all the sheriff's jobs for him. We heard you brought the Hartley brothers in this morning.”

“They started shooting at me. I returned fire.”

There was a snicker. Then another older man stood up. “Mr. Byrnes, we hope you will reconsider and become our sheriff.”

“Maybe at a later date. Not now.”

Jenny came by. “You need to see Mr. Tanner at the bank today, as well.”

He frowned at her.

“He knows we are friends, and he said he had an important matter to discuss, and that it was private.”

“I'll go by and see him. Sorry we can't go home yet,” he said to Marge. “I told Bo's bride-to-be that you would help her pick out a wedding dress and I'd go the cost. You will need to send her a note when to meet you.”

“Do I know her?”

“No, but she's tough enough to keep his wheels on tracks.”

“Fine, you going to see Tanner now?”