Between Hell and Texas (28 page)

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Authors: Dusty Richards

BOOK: Between Hell and Texas
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They shook hands and Chet knew his selection of Tom would be a good one. Maybe he needed another place up near the peaks for Reg and J.D. to work. He really liked the high country he saw coming down from up there.
After his supper, Chet climbed into his own bed and slept like a log. In the morning, Tom asked to ride along with them and then drop by and check on his wife and family. Obviously, he was going to tell her about his new job.
Chet felt so grubby and whiskered that he took a bath and shaved. Then put on his other clothes and ate breakfast as the boys were finishing their meal.
“Fed them oatmeal,” Hoot said meaning the prisoners. “They won't get any better in jail. You know them boys with him?”
“After I took them prisoner, I talked to some of them on the road. Some of them probably ain't as bad as Ryan, but they ain't innocent of nothing. I figure a judge will sentence some of them to ninety days in the local jail.”
“Ryan can go sweat in Yuma for a long time,” Hoot said. “For my part.”
Tom rode along with them, and smiled at his boss when Chet turned the black colt the boys had chosen for him to ride down the road to Marge's gate. “See all of you in town, 'cept Tom. He needs to go home and count his chickens.”
Nick and Troy laughed and told Chet they'd be fine and would see him later at the courthouse. To get ahead of them, he took off in a short lope. The father-son pair could handle the prisoners. Chet wanted to stop and apologize to Marge on the way into town, and Tom could back them.
A few hours later at her ranch gate, he jogged the black up to the front-yard hitch rail.
Marge shouted, “Chet Byrnes, where have you been forever?”
“Peach Springs,” he said dismounting. “Rounding up outlaws, woman.”
She was in his arms in a flash and hugging him. “I have been so worried about you for the last week. What now?”
“I need to catch up with my wagonload of prisoners headed for the sheriff and meet them at the courthouse.”
“No time for lunch?” Marge stuck out her bottom lip in disappointment.
“No.”
“Well, then we'll hitch up the team and I'll go with you.”
“Sounds good to me, but no dressing up and all that. I have to be there when they get them delivered to the jail.”
“Go hitch the team.” She left him on the run for the front door.
When Chet returned with her rig, Marge had on a different dress and a hairbrush in her hand, a wide summer hat under her arm, and was running hard to get to the rig. He reached over and pulled her up. She raised her eyebrows and smiled big. Sweeping her dress underneath her, she settled on the leather seat and then squeezed his arm.
“I was so worried that they had killed you. No word, nothing.”
“I knew I'd beat the mail. Have you ever been to Peach Springs?”
“No.”
“That's where I got the drop on them in a saloon. I hired a nice man with a team and wagon as well as his son to haul them back here.”
“Who are they?”
“Ryan, for one. A big man who calls himself Carter. I bet he's wanted somewhere. A follower named Trigger and two kids who are scared to death. Kent and Swann.”
“I don't know any of them.”
“I got to meet all of them on the ride back. I could see Ryan and Carter were the kingpins. Trigger is an ex-convict, I'm certain. Them two kids were along for the excitement. They'll tell the authorities anything they want to know.”
“Did they try anything?”
“No. I locked a hundred-foot chain around each one of their necks every eight feet, and they're still wearing it. They know if any one cuts up that others could be shot.”
“How did you ever think of doing that?”
Chet shrugged. “There I was holding a shotgun on five men, and knew I needed some restraint for them. The store had a chain and five padlocks. It worked.”
She narrowed her eyes hard at him. “You are amazing, do you know that?”
“No, but when you get backed into a corner you need to find a way out.”
Marge leaned her cheek on his shoulder. “I about cried when they told me you were gone after them and they'd shot your good roan horse.”
“I hated that, but I had no way to send you word.”
“What are we doing at the jail?”
“Unlocking the padlocks I put on them. I have the keys for the locks. In my pocket.”
“What will you do after that?”
“Maybe take you someplace to eat, then?”
“That would be nice.” Marge stretched her button-up shoes toward the dashboard and then snuggled back to his arm. “So you are unharmed.”
“What do you know about Mormons?”
“You thinking about joining their church?”
“No, but I met a Mormon woman who lived alone way back up in the mountains tending a ranch.”
“No doubt she was handling stock that needed the re-brands to heal.”
“Are you serious?” Chet looked over at her hard.
“Yes, there is also a secret outlaw trail that comes down from Montana, and these isolated ranches serve as hotels and hideouts for felons on the run.”
Had Ryan used her to hold cattle for him that the brands had been changed on? He'd never thought about her being involved in rustling. Maybe he had discovered another loophole in this business of stealing from the Quarter Circle Z.
In a short while, Chet drove up and met Sheriff Sims on the Whiskey Row side of the courthouse, with the five seated on the ground, waiting to be unlocked.
“How are you today, ma'am?” the lawman asked, taking off his hat for Marge.
“Fine, Sheriff.” She remained on the buggy seat as Chet went from prisoner to prisoner, unlocking his padlocks. The job done, Troy gathered up the chain and put it in to the back of the buggy. A lot of neck-rubbing went on by the prisoners as the shotgun guard drove them inside the jail's side door.
“Nice haul. These are the men who shot your horse?” Sims asked.
“Yes.”
“Where did you catch them?”
“Peach Springs, in a saloon.”
“My heavens, you did really track them down that far. I'd offer to buy you a beer, but you have prettier company than me.”
“What happens next?” Chet gave a head toss toward the disappearing outlaws at the back door.
“I'll interrogate them, then I'll visit with the prosecuting attorney, Sam Yates. He decides on the charges.”
“Good enough. I need to go back to Texas as soon as possible.”
“I understand. We may need a deposition from you about the other crimes you know about.”
“None of them said much on the road, but put those two boys in a cell by themselves. They're so scared they'll tell you anything you need to know.”
“Thanks, and thanks for running them down.”
“I wanted them prosecuted. Guess that will have to be my repayment for the loss of a good horse.”
“By the way, if we prosecute them and the jury finds them guilty, you get their horses to keep. Only way I can pay you anything.”
Chet shook hands with the lawman, and then he paid his haulers and shook both of their hands. “Is there enough food left to get you two home?”
“Don't worry about us,” the man said. “We've sure enjoyed your company and hate to part with you. You don't need a farmer, do you?”
“I may. I guess I can send a letter general delivery up there?”
“You sure can. Me and Troy would consider it an honor to work for you, sir.”
“Chet,” he reminded the man.
“Yeah, Chet.”
Chet hated to part with the pair. They'd worked hard making the transporting easy for him. Good, real folks. He waved good-bye, then climbed in the buggy and about knocked his hat off on the roof.
“You alright?” Marge asked, sounding concerned.
“Fine, just too damn tall. We need to leave my horse at the livery.”
“Certainly.”
After boarding his horse at the stables, Chet and Marge found the Brownstone Hotel's dining room near empty. It was way past noontime.
“Can we still have a meal?” Chet asked the waiter.
“Certainly, sir. What do you and the lady wish to eat?”
Chet closed the menu. “What do you suggest?”
“Oh, sir, the fresh elk steaks are tender, and come with sides of mashed potatoes and green beans fresh from a grower down in the valley. You should be quite content.”
Marge nodded in agreement. “I'll take the same.”
“Coffee?”
“Yes, we both want some.”
The waiter left with their order and Chet nodded to Marge. “I hope to get things wound up here soon. So with Ryan out of the way, I'll head back to Texas. It will be a year, I imagine, before I'll be able to close out my business in Texas and get back up here.”
“I know you will be busy. Will you write to me?”
“My letters are brief.”
“Hi, good-bye, so I know you are alive, is sufficient.”
“If you find someone else, don't wait. I don't know what my future holds or what anyone else will do.”
Marge raised her chin up. “I accept that risk.”
“Fine, so we have all our cards on the table.”
“Yes and thank you.” She wet her lips. “What will you do in Texas?”
“Put the home place on the market. My family has lived there since shortly after the Texas revolution. My parents and grandparents came down there from Arkansas. We fought the Comanches for that land. My brothers and sister were kidnapped by them and never heard of again. My parents lost their minds over those events.”
“Will it sell?”
“Yes, I think so. The Kansas cattle market has made many men rich in the state.”
The waiter returned with their coffee, and Chet and Marge drank it slowly. Alone in the red-velvet-draped room, even the sound of their china cups on the china saucers sounded loud.
Chet reached over and caught Marge's wrist to squeeze it. “This is not the end of either of our lives. Simply a break—a short lapse in time.”
Marge formed a slight smile. “Yes, I realize that. On that stage coming here with you, I was really taken by you. I'm spoiled, but you've taught me some lessons—‘be patient, Marge.'”
Chet nodded. “And you know the rest.”
“Yes.” She chuckled in her throat. “That you do things with zest. You ride off against large odds and bring in a wagonload of outlaws.”
“I was lucky.”
“Hell, no. That's your way, Chet Byrnes.” Marge put her fingers over her mouth and looked around to see if anyone had heard her swear. No one else was in the room.
They both laughed.
After lunch, Marge drove herself home, but they had a hard time parting. She reminded him about the dance—he promised to be there. When, at last, Chet watched her buggy take on the hill a block away, he turned and headed for the Palace to find Harold.
The agent was deep in a poker game, but excused himself from behind the next hand. They moved aside to talk softly.
“Everything is going smooth,” Harold promised. “I had a wire from Talley and the paper thing has begun. You don't have to do a thing. What about this prisoner deal I heard about?”
“Ryan and his men are in the jail. I captured them at Peach Springs and had them hauled back here.”
“I knew who you got. Do you have a badge?”
“No, but a citizen can make an arrest of a criminal in this country. The Constitution says so.”
“You sound like a lawyer. Couple of days and the matter may be settled. Still no luck on that bar-C brand deal.”
“You're doing good. Get back in there and win some more.”
Inside the Palace, Jane brought him a beer and Chet dug two dimes out for her. Standing aside of the table, he watched them play. It was good to be back. Sleeping on the ground and the march with the grumbling prisoners had been no fun at all.
Chet's obligation to Marge was taken care of. He finished the cold beer and made a high sign to Harold that he was leaving. The man caught his signal and then turned back to his cards.
In the post office, Chet found two letters from Texas.
Cattle had arrived safely and sold in Kansas. Money in San Antonio Bank. Proceeds: thirty-six thousand and some dollars. He'd paid a ten percent fee for driving them up there. A smile crossed Chet's lips reading Susie's letter. The ranch's share of the cattle that the men took up more than paid for all their expenses. Maybe he should have gone. No.

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