Ambush Valley (34 page)

“Why don't you shop and I'll do that?”

“Fine. I'll be at Grace's shop. You reckon May will need one too?”

“Considering Hampt and how he moves, yes.”

“I'll get ideas for both. How big is this other girl?”

“Four foot two, maybe.”

“Oh, she's short.”

“Yes. I'll go see Tanner. Want a boost on your horse?”

“No, take him with yours. When you get done I'll ride home on him.”

“Good. Thanks, everyone. Sorry I can't help you.” He insisted he pay for the two breakfasts and Jenny at last took his money.

The bank was two blocks down and one north. He tied the two horses to the hitch rack and entered the lobby. Tanner's secretary, a young man, immediately stood up at his desk and came to greet him.

“Thanks for stopping by, sir. You knew Mr. Tanner wanted to speak to you?”

“I got the word at Jenny's café. Is he in?”

“I will tell him you are here.”

“Fine.”

The young man returned and took him to Tanner's walnut-lined office.

“Good to see you. I hope I did not interrupt your life.”

“No, I was in town. We brought in Carl Hartley, and his brother is dead.”

“That is my problem. We were going to foreclose on the T B ranch shortly. But I have neither the knowledge nor the help to do that. But you do. Have a seat, Mr. Byrnes.”

“What do you intend to do?”

“Try to rescue the bank's money. They have borrowed several dollars to make up this ranch and while they might once have had some capital of their own, I fear they have spent it. Repossessing any property is never good business for a bank. Could you make a profit out of running their operation?”

“I doubt it; they have more cattle than this country can hold. They have no pool of bulls, hence many cows don't get bred. Second, the offspring many times become mavericks and, once weaned, that is what they are. Anyone can legally brand them.”

“What can we do?”

“Sell the open cows and reduce the herd to a workable size. There are many ranch buyers that want a place that will work. I think the T B could be straightened and gotten into shape in a year. Now unless you have lots more in it than I think, it could then be sold.”

“What would you charge to do it?”

He closed his eyes. “Expenses and a commission. How does that sound?”

“Sounds manageable to me. How will you do it?”

“Find a foreman and three damn tough cowboys to start.”

“Who would they be?”

“I am not certain. But I'd have to pay off his crew and hire them and do it quick.”

Tanner agreed, then he leaned back in his chair.

“I can fit some of these cattle in my Navajo deal. We have to get rid of lots of those cows or none of us will have any feed.”

“People have complained to me about that.”

“And they did like I did, drove them to their place.”

Tanner agreed. “I'll need to have our lawyer file papers on that then.”

“When will you do that?”

“I imagine tomorrow. Why?”

“I want to take my boys over there at dawn and take possession of the place then. Otherwise those men will take anything loose for what they consider their pay.”

“I guess no one will be able to complain. You say the Hartleys are either dead or in jail?”

“Yes. I don't care but I want what is theirs to be there when I take over.”

“Go ahead and do that. And give me a report as soon as you can.”

“I am going to use six hundred fifty head of cull cows for the October delivery. They should have some flesh on them and fit my needs. That will help reduce the numbers. How many cows do they claim?”

“My last list was two thousand.”

“Then I can take that many to the ranch I have on top and let them fatten until November. That will be a good number left—say four to five hundred super cows. Of course we don't know really how many they have and how many are of any account.”

“Right. I trust you implicitly to do the right thing.”

“If I don't, it will be an honest mistake.” They shook hands and Tanner was left to go see his lawyers.

Chet left the bank and headed for the dress shop with both horses. The bell rang when he entered and the women working looked up and smiled.

“I'm coming,” Marge said. “Look at this the dress for you-know-who.”

“Looks lovely.”

“I need the other girl's size.”

“We can get it. We need to get home.”

“Oh, in a hurry?”

“Something has come up.”

“Oh, yes, you spoke to the man?”

“Yes. I can tell you on the way.”

Outside he boosted her on her horse and they set out. When they were over the hill with fewer people around, she turned. “What now?”

“We are dispersing the T B ranch for the bank.”

“Hartley's place?”

“Yes, they are foreclosing and I am dispersing it for them.”

“What comes first?”

“Fire the help and start over. I plan to sell the cows down about fifteen hundred head on my Navajo project. I have no idea what they have, but Tanner said two thousand head. We will see.”

“My lands, you will sure be spread thin doing all this.”

“We can handle it.”

“All right, but no more riding after these outlaws.”

“Darling, I'll try not to do that again.”

Then he laughed and she shook her head. “It isn't funny now. It's damn serious.”

His crew was gathered in the predawn on the last rise above the T B ranch. Some banty rooster was crowing about something and there was a light on in what he considered the cook shack and stove smoke in the air.

On his hoof-stamping horse, JD rubbed his shirtsleeves in the morning chill. “I hope they've got breakfast made when we get down there.”

“If not, we'll make some,” Chet said. “Spread out. We're taking the place. I don't expect any trouble, but I'll not put up with any, either.”

“Billy, you be sure there isn't a horse wrangler out by the corrals. If there is you can herd him up to the cook shack.”

“Gotcha.” He turned his horse and went more north than the others to get beyond the dark corrals filled with sleeping horses and a few shuffling around in them.

When Chet rode, up a man in an apron was about to ring the triangle.

“Go ahead, we need to talk to everyone.”

“Huh? Who in the hell are you?”

“Your new boss. Ring it.”

“Yes, sir.” He rang it.

Sleepy cowboys came out of the bunkhouse and stared at the horseback riders sitting on their mounts outside in the dim light.

“Who in the gawddamn hell are you guys?”

“Keep walking, the answer is up at the cook's place.”

“I asked—”

“I don't give a dime what you asked. Shut your mouth and keep walking.”

“That's all that's in there,” one of the Quarter Circle Z riders said, and remounted after checking.

Everyone inside the cook shack, Chet addressed them. “I am the new boss of this ranch. It has been taken over by the bank in Preskit. I am looking for cowboys that can ride and rope. We're going to disperse the livestock and you will be in the saddle a lot. I can pay anyone wants out. I can also pay the back pay but I am only paying it at cowhand wages.”

“What's that?”

“Twenty-five a month.”

“Hell them Hartley brothers was paying more than that.”

“How many months they owe you for?” Chet demanded.

“Three months.”

“That's seventy-five dollars.”

One man spoke up, “They was paying me sixty a month.”

“One's dead, the other in jail, I won't pay you and you can go up to the jail and see what he'll give you.”

The man ducked his head and shook it in disgust.

“Any more questions?”

They shook their heads.

“After breakfast, I'll set up to interview each of you and pay you. I don't want one damn thing taken from the ranch that ain't yours. If you do I'll see you spend three years in Yuma. Am I understood?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Eat. Is there food enough for all?” he asked the cook.

“I can fry some more eggs and pancakes, sir.”

“Do that. My boys have been up all night.”

“Yes, sir.”

Counting the horse wrangler, who came in last, there were seven hands. JD met each one and shook his hand, then did the book work while Chet paid each one.

He interviewed each man at a desk he made from some boards and a barrel. He sat behind it on a ladder-back chair. JD was beside him, writing it all down for the record.

“How much did they owe you?”

“Three months, sir.”

“Name?”

“Wiley Jinks.”

“Age?”

“About eighteen, I guess. I ain't got no record of my birth.”

“Where you from?”

“Where was I born, sir?”

“Yes.”

“Arkansas. A tornado wiped out my family when I was twelve. I survived. I went with a family to Texas. But all they needed was a slave so I joined a cattle drive and helped the cook. In time I got to be a drover. But they had real bad storms back there every time I went to Kansas, so next time I drove some cattle out here. And I stayed. They don't got any tornados out here.”

“You want to cowboy for me?”

“Yes sir, I'd be proud to.”

“I'll hire you. Have you been here three months?”

“I been here six.”

“I heard they had not paid you men for the last three months.”

“That's right. That would be fine with me. I thank you, sir.” He took his money and smiled.

Chet asked him if he brought a horse and he shook his head.

He didn't offer the grumbler a job. Figured he was a gunman, not a cowboy. Besides, he didn't like Jay Ponders's ways.

“I've got a horse coming to me,” the man in his thirties said, then he looked around like he was bored with the whole deal.

“You ride him in here?” Chet asked.

“No, but they promised me one when I left.”

“I told you they were in jail or dead. All I owe you is seventy-five dollars. Get on shank's mare and ride away.”

“Hey, I made a deal.”

“The bank won't pay for it.”

“Listen, a deal is a deal.”

“Those people aren't here. I'm the boss. You aren't getting a horse out of me or the bank. Move on.”

“Partner, your hearing is bad. He said move on,” Hampt came over and took the man by the shoulder.

For a minute, things looked like they'd break loose. But considering Hampt's size and deep voice, enough had been said, and Ponders went for his things. The other obvious gunman, Curly Brown, had a bill of sale for a brown horse with the Bar K brand on his right shoulder.

Chet called on the horse wrangler, Mike Martin. “You know this man's horse?”

“Yeah, he's a bay horse. He's up with some others on the mountain.”

“Is he sound?”

“Yes, sir. Pick him a like horse out of the ones here. I'll make him a bill of sale and he can sell me his. That all right, Brown?”

“I guess so.”

“Save you waiting around all day. Go choose a horse with him, Mike, then you come back,” Chet said.

Henry Judson came next.

“Where do you hail from, Henry?” Chet asked the gangly youth.

“Bossier City, Louisiana, sir. I don't want to go back there and I like working cattle around here.”

“Good, we need real cowboys to work this ranch. No horse?”

“No, sir.”

The next one came up.

“What's your name and where do you come from?”

“Buck Temple, Texarkana, sir. I ended up here like Wiley. We drove cattle out here from Texas and stayed.”

“Bring a horse?”

“No sir, and I'd be proud to work for you.”

“Next?”

“That's Mike Martin, the short bronc twister and wrangler,” JD said. “I sure like him. He's coming back. He got Brown a horse. What about the cook?”

“Do you men staying here like the cook?” He looked over the men standing there.

“I ate better. But I damn sure ate worse,” Wiley said.

Buck smiled. “Shirley ain't half bad for a ranch crew cook.”

“We could hire a worse one. JD's the ranch boss from here on. He'll hire and fire all the help. We need to round up a mess of these cows and ship about fifteen hundred head. There's way too many on our ranges. I have a place up on top for them and then we'll ship them. You work for me and you may have to go elsewhere to do what needs to be done. We start in the morning sorting out the cows to sell and then push them to the north ranch. How many British cross cows are there?”

“Not a whole lot.” Buck said. “Most are longhorns.”

“If they have a good cross calf on them keep them. Especially heifer calves.”

Everyone nodded. “Any longhorn bulls on the range, I want rounded up.”

“JD wants to get an idea about the cattle here. So saddle up, day one is about to begin.”

“You ride in on a horse?” he asked Mike. When he shook his head, Chet paid him.

“JD has to run this ranch. How is the remuda?”

“For this many cowboys, all right. What are there, four and me?”

“Yes.”

“We'll need more horses.”

“You have a team for the chuck wagon?”

“We do. Four mules.”

“Can Shirley handle them?”

“I'd need to drive them around a few days.”

“Do that. JD, we need to go talk to your cook.”

“Yes, sir. And thanks for all you two done. I know them other guys appreciate it. Them gun hands you let go kinda ran things at the bunkhouse and elsewhere. All the crappy jobs them guys got, and the Mister Bigs kept their own boots propped up.”

“JD and I figured that out before the sun came up.”

“Where did the cocky foreman go that I met in the road?”

“Took a powder about two weeks ago. Took three ranch horses and I wasn't sure Carl give him them.”

JD nodded that he heard him. “Not big losses, are they?”

“They were mortgaged property, we might look in on that case.”

Shirley Taylor was the eighth boy in his east Texas family. His mother always wanted a girl and when he came along, she called him Shirley.

“Well, we're going to cut cattle back to five hundred mother cows here and try to make a ranch out of it,” Chet explained. “We plan to take them to a ranch I bought up on top. So you may have to move with those cattle. I will sell them by the first of November and you can come back here unless we need you up there. Either way I can pay you a hundred dollars for back pay and pay you forty dollars a month for three months. Your job grows, I'll pay you more than that.”

“I guess I'm lucky then,” the large-bodied man said. “I figured they'd lose this place and I'd set out all winter with no job. Proud to be a part of your outfit.”

JD shook his hand and so did Chet.

“We spoke to Mike about driving the mules some,” JD said. “You be certain that wagon is sound and make a list of things you need now, and then later a three-month list for the trip up there. I'm going to be here so we can work together on it.”

“Good,” Shirley said and laughed. “That's a big weight off my shoulders. And them gun hands gone suits me fine.”

JD walked outside with him. Hampt and the others were mounted up and had Chet's horse ready.

“You need something, don't forget to ask. Oh, I need that piece of payroll for Tanner and I'll make a record of it.”

“I'll start a ledger on the keeper cows and try to find out all I can in the next week.”

“Be set to move those cattle up there in two weeks.”

“Whew, that's a tough schedule.”

“We need a tough one. This needs to be done. Most of those calves at McQuire's have enough size and we can cull them and then bring the good ones down to the Verde ranch. Tom wanted more cows there anyway. Then they won't mix in with the sale cattle.”

Hearing it all, Hampt shook his head, sitting on his horse. “Boys, daylight's burning. This place is in good hands. Let's get back.” He rode over and gave Chet his horse. “We're headed back to Verde.”

“I need to stop at Marge's. I'll be there at sunup. We go get the McQuire herd tomorrow. Tell Hoot him or someone needs to go up there and cook for that deal. He'll probably send Victor. Make arrangements, get the horses you'll need. Rio can wrangle them. Sarge should be up there by now and know more.”

Hampt nodded his head. “You got anything else we need to do?”

Chet broke down and smiled at him. “Maybe sweep my office.”

His men rode on. He'd catch them.

Dismounted, he checked the girth. He'd better go see his wife. He hadn't had much time with her lately and while she knew he was busy, he still needed to pay her some mind. Besides, he missed her—everything from her free laughter to her wonderful body. For a minute he closed his eyes. This damn territory was busy and as much work as Texas ever was.

He rode in and learned that Marge and Monica were in town getting Monica's dress fitted for her wedding. She and Raphael planned to tie the knot—shortly. The date escaped him. He took off his clothes in the back room, tied a towel around his waist, and picked up a bar of soap to walk on his tender soles to the sheepherder's shower. The water was warm and he soaped himself down, then rinsed. He heard a team coming and hurried to dry off.

His horse was still hitched up there so she'd know he was home.

He came around the corner and she met him, running into his arms. He lost the towel and she peered down before kissing him again. “You're naked.”

“I only have a towel.” He swiped it up and put it around him. When he looked up he saw something was wrong.

“Anything bad happen?” The damn towel would stay if he held it with one hand.

She chewed on her lower lip. “No.”

“What's wrong?”

“I-I may be going to have a baby. Now don't shout. Twice before I've lost them. My record is not good in this matter. But I had to tell you.”

“Of course. I'd hug the fire out of you, but for holding my towel. That is wonderful news and we won't pin our hopes till we see if it will stay in there, right?”

“Yes. My—”

“I don't care about before. If we can have a child, I'll be pleased. But Marge I am always proud of having you and we have each other. Thank God.”

She laughed through some tears. “Let's go find you some clothing.”

“I agree.” Hugging her arm, and the other one holding his towel, they went for the house.

He breathed in the turpentine smell on the wind. A lucky man with a new future and maybe a son or daughter. Either would suit him.