Between Hell and Texas (22 page)
Read Between Hell and Texas Online
Authors: Dusty Richards
Hampt leaned forward in the saddle. “We also found about thirty cows and calves, plus several unbranded mavericks up there in what we called the High Meadows.”
“You boys had a good day.”
Heck shook his head like he was still impressed. “Them Injuns really were starving. I'm glad you're feeding them.”
“Thanks. You boys won't have to put up hay this year. Mr. Chandler is to be our partner in that business.”
Hampt looked gratefully up at his hat brim and went, “Whew. Thanks.”
All three laughed. Maybe this Arizona ranching was going to work out for him. Still, he couldn't get over worrying about what Kathren was doing back in Texas. He hoped she was fineâbut his guts roiled over his concern.
Chapter 23
Early Saturday morning, Chet took a bath under the sheepherder's shower and then got some hot water and shaved. Next he went back to the house and had breakfast with his crew. They were busy talking when he walked into the dining hall and gave him some greetings.
“You going to the dance at the schoolhouse tonight, Chet?” Wiley asked.
“Hadn't planned on it. Many of you boys going?”
“We kinda hoped to wind up everything here by noon, then head that way,” Tom said. “ 'Cept me. I planned to run in and check on the family. Be back Sunday evening 'less you want me to change my plans?”
Chet agreed. “Sounds fine to me. I could stake you all to a few dollars apiece if you're broke.”
A couple of faces nodded.
“Now, who's in charge here at the ranch?”
“Me and the two boys can watch the place,” Hoot said. “I don't expect no troubles.”
“Well, I'll be here. That's fine. Have a good time.”
With those words, everyone went back to a normal conversation. The flapjacks were mouthwatering, and Chet liked Hoot's own sugar syrup.
“Now we've got that all straight,” Hampt said, “what're you going to be doing?”
“Working on my books, I guess.”
“You should come in and join the celebration.”
Chet looked over the crew and they all agreed. “I willâone day. Right now I need to figure this operation out on paper. Thanks for asking me.”
After the noon meal, the crew cut out. Chet was busy in the room he set up as his office. The long table was made of planed lumber on sawhorses. Everything was in neat piles of papers with smooth river rocks holding each stack down. From the open windows with the red curtains flowing from the strong winds, he could look down the lane that led from the road.
Chet heard the rumble of a light wagon and team coming, and looked up from listing his figures about the cattle count from the small pieces of paper turned in by each crew. Who was it? Then he saw the wide hat the woman wore driving itâMargaret Christianson in a deep red velvet dress. What did she want?
He put down the pen he'd been recording with and rose. Hoot stood in the doorway with his frosty-looking beard stubble. “Hey, we've got real company.”
With a nod, he went by his cook and smiled. “What did we do to deserve this?”
“Damned if I know.”
The same thing that he knew about her arrivalâwhy? When Chet came out of the house, she'd reined up her smart team. She tied them off and climbed down, looking excited. “Why, Chet, I hardly expected to find you at the house.”
“Doing book work. How are you, Margaret?”
“Oh, fine. This is some dwelling for a ranch house. I'd never been here before. Have you purchased it?” With the hat brim held up by her right hand so she could better examine the front of the house, she nodded in approval.
“Yes.”
“Then we are neighbors.” She held up her dress and advanced into the yard where he stood.
“We live in the same county, anyway.”
“Oh, my. There are some big rumors about your bravery in Preskit.”
“I had no idea. Heck and I held some attackers off.”
“Modest. Oh, I expected that from you.”
“Come inside. I am sure we have some coffee.”
“Very kind of you. Thanks.”
Her lilac perfume filled his nose when he let her pass him. Not irritating, but powerful. He wasn't used to women who wore more than a hint. But he wasn't her keeper, and he had no ambition to make that even a probability.
Chet showed Margaret to the table, then spoke to Hoot in the kitchen doorway. “Mrs. Christianson would like some coffee.”
“Do you use cream?” he asked her.
“If you have some.” She paused to smile at Hoot.
Chet held her chair, and she swept her dress under and sat down with a soft thank you.
“Canned only.”
“That would be fine.”
“Where is your nephew?” She looked around for sight of him.
“He and the new cook's helper have gone fishing in the river.”
“What does he think of the territory?”
“If I was twelve and the rest of the hands thought I was eighteen, I'd think I was in heaven. He likes it here.”
She laughed, sounding more at ease. “How funny.”
“If you aren't lost, Margaret, you must have a purpose coming here.” What did she really want?
“There is a dance in Camp Verde tonight. In the past, I have attended it. I thought perhaps I might invite you and introduce you to your close-by neighbors.”
“Many of my hands have already gone there. I had not considered going there tonight.”
Hoot brought the two cups of coffee, a can of milk, and a sugar bowl with a spoon to the table on a tray. “This is fresh,” he said, setting down the punctured can, then handing out the rest.
“Oh, thank you so much,” she said. “So Chet, what do you think about joining me?”
“I'll consider it.”
“Good.” She acted relieved and reached over to squeeze his forearm. “I guess I am rather bold, coming here and asking you, but I feel we have something in common.”
He leaned back in his chair to study her and tented his fingers. “First, I have a list of items you paid for me.”
“So I'm trying too hard to make a friendship. Can you forgive me?”
“After I repay you.”
She made a face like a child having been caught doing something prohibited. Her shoulders raised under the dress that hugged her figure and made a window to see her cleavage, and then she dropped them down in surrender. “Whatever will make you happy.”
“I can pay my own way. I thank you for your concern, but I wonder what people think. âHe doesn't have money to pay his debts and is leaning on her to stay here.'”
She chewed on her lower lip. “I never thought of that.”
He decided that she'd agree to anything that coaxed him into going to the dance. What was the use? Unable to find himself enough gall to throw her out, he slumped in the chair. “I'll need to iron some clean clothes.”
“I can iron.” He knew he'd rewound her spirit.
“We need to find an iron,” he said, and tasted his coffee. “There are lots of things here we have found. In fact, when they tried to attack the house, Heck and I found firearms to turn the tide.”
“What were they after?”
“The money in the safe I recovered from his wife after I threw them out.”
“Sizeable?”
“Over ten thousand dollars.”
Her hand went to her mouth and she frowned at him. “Oh my. Was it theirs?”
“If it had been, they could have hired a lawyer. I think it is proceeds from Ryan's sale of ranch assets.”
“Can you prove it?”
“I have several witnesses who talk about Ryan's secret sale of stock.”
“My, Chet, you have had troubles here.”
He nodded to reassure her. “We're getting things back to normal again. I better go look for an iron. Hoot,” he called out. “Do we have some clothes irons?”
“I saw some in the pantry,” Hoot said, coming to the door.
“Heat them. I'll go get my best shirt and pants out of my war bag. Excuse me.”
“Of course,” she said, looking relaxed for the first time since he'd met her on the stagecoach. “I can iron. I'm quite domestic.”
“Between us, I guess we can do it.” He left the room to find his best clothing. She still mystified him. If she thought she was such a seductive person to capture his heart, she might be overshooting her charmâshe was way too society-struck to appeal to him.
When he returned with his clothing, she had removed her hat and found an apron to wear over her dress. There was a blanket on the kitchen table, a bowl of water to sprinkle on the items to be ironed. She did his white shirt first, and he stood by. Her hard-pressed efforts to take out the wrinkles were successful.
Alternating irons and placing the cooler one on the stovetop to reheat it, she pushed back the wave of hair from her face and attacked his britches. He could see lots of things about her as she fought the wrinklesâshe worked with what he saw as a deep-set determination either to impress him, or such actions were a usual part of her nature.
The weather had warmed, but the open house swept by the wind wasn't that hot. When she finished, he thanked her, and Hoot asked if they were staying for supper.
“No, there will be plenty of food at the affair,” she assured him.
“So it's set,” Chet said. “I'll go saddle a horse to tie on behind your buggy so I can come back afterwards.”
“Oh, I can bring you back.”
“Then I suppose I should offer you a place to sleep.”
“Not necessarily. But I would accept the invitation.”
“You are invited. Hoot, have the boys sweep out the first room at the head of the stairs for our guest tonight when they get back.”
“I can do that. Nice to meet you, ma'am.”
“Oh, yes.” She agreed.
“I'm going to water your horses,” Chet told her. “Then I'll change to my clothes and be ready to go into town.”
“Thanks for thinking of them. While you do that I shall freshen myself some.”
“You can use that room I mentioned. Wait.” He dug in his pockets, counting out the money he owed her. “Now I think we're even.”
She hesitated for a few seconds, then she swallowed hard and gathered the money. “If I caused you anyâ”
“That's over and done for my part.”
“Thanks.” She hoisted her dress hem and took on the stairs.
Chet went outside to water the team. With the reins in his hand on the seat, he found them well broke, drove them up to the large tank and let them drink. Much easier than unhitching them, and when they had their fill he returned them to the shade. So far, he had obligated himself to go with her to the dance. Obviously she had shoehorned her way into his life. A place where he felt uncomfortable, but he'd try to show her a good time. Maybe she had only good intentions. He hoped so.
They reached the schoolhouse near sundown, about the time for things to start. Plenty of activity going on. Several outfits had set up large tents much like they did in Texas to stay overnight. Others served meals under the shade. Margaret directed him to a setup and Chet recognized her father's brand when he reined up.
A young Mexican boy beamed at him, ready to take the team. “Good evening, Señor Byrnes. My name is Leon.”
“How are you, Leon?”
“Very fine, sir.”
Chet gave the youth the reins and went around to help her down. “So you have tricked me,” he said under his breath, as he guided her around the buggy.
“No. This is my father's camp,” she said under her breath.
“How did that boy know my name, then?”
“My father must have told him. Don't you believe me?” She looked ready to cry.
“Alright, but you better be more honest with me.”
“I will be. My father is coming.”
He nodded, still hot under the collar over his discovery.
“Well, good to see you, Byrnes.” The distinguished-looking gray-haired man said, approaching them. “We have the food ready. Will you two join us?”
“Of course,” he said, as if he had expected such an arrangement.
She held him back a few steps. “If I had planned this, wouldn't I have hurried you along to get here?”
“At this moment, I'm not sure of anything.”
“Good.” She squeezed his arm. “I did not plan this.”
“Accept my apology.”
“Accepted,” she said and laughed, guiding him to a table and a two-person bench.
Margaret soon introduced him to several people at the table, obviously the more powerful ranchers in the region. Alan Gates, a man in his fifties, with his much younger wife, Madrid, who owned the CXT ranch; Thomas Hanager, who ranched at a place called Hold-enville; the woman with him was his daughter, Cay-leen, a girl in her teens. Floyd Kent in his early forties, with wife Kay and their three teenage children.
“Chet Byrnes is buying the Quarter Circle Z. He's bringing his family from Texas here to live on the ranch.”
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