Once a Ranger (22 page)

TWENTY-FIVE

T
WO WEEKS WENT
flying by with little happening but progress on the new structure. Cally's house was fast being closed in. Dresscoe had studied the prevailing summer winds and assured her that they would sweep through her house all summer long.

“They may blow everything over, but it was a good way to design one.”

Guthrey agreed. “He's done a great job for you so far. I'm proud.”

“So am I. How is Deloris getting along?”

“Well, she fed us good.”

“Dan and Noble have not complained either. Can I make a watering system and a garden here?”

“It is your house, my dear. I can live in it, but you decide what to do with it. As much as you enjoy a garden, you better add it to your plans.”

“Noble witched me a new well. He had a forked peach branch to witch for it and found it in back where I need water for a garden here.”

He chuckled. “Another well—another windmill?”

She nodded. “He also has a windmill spotted no one is using.”

“Better buy it.”

She hugged him. “You are wonderful, you know that?”

“No. I am laughing at my very busy wife.”

“Speaking of busy. Olive's dress is made and Cam has a new suit for this Saturday night's wedding.” She dropped her head and shook it as if something was too much. “She's so tickled she's pregnant, she's about to bust.”

“She waited a long time.”

She put a finger to his mouth. “I may be finished waiting too.”

“Good.”

“Don't tell anyone—yet.”

“I won't, but it would be nice.”

“Oh, a new house for my firstborn. Yes, Phil Guthrey, with you thrown in I'd be the luckiest girl in the world.”

“I may ride down and evict those squatters down south tomorrow.”

“Is that the trash that those brothers stayed with?”

“Yes.”

“Just be careful.”

He hugged her tight. “I will.”

* * *

I
N THE MORNING
he took Dan and Noble with him to the squatters' place. There were lots of them in the camp. Some of the women walked around bare breasted and it never bothered them. Many of the ragged army curled their lips at the three lawmen when they went past them to the center of the camp near the low cooking fires where the smoke swirled around close to the ground.

“Listen up, folks!” Guthrey shouted, sitting on his spotted horse and looking over the tough ragtag squatters. “This is not public land. This is private land and you can't stay here any longer.”

They booed him.

He paid no heed to them. “You have forty-eight hours to leave or you will be jailed for trespassing.”

“That's bullshit, lawman.”

Guthrey reined around Cochise and gave the man who'd spoken a hard look. “Wait forty-eight hours and you'll see what I mean.”

Then he spun the paint horse around. “You've been warned.” He rode over to join his two deputies. “See anyone wanted?”

“Who'd want this bunch?” Dan asked.

They laughed and went on. There must have been thirty of them there. If they left this place they'd simply move somewhere else. Guthrey could hope, maybe, out of his territory. But such gatherings made a hangout for real bandits like the Morales brothers. They needed to be gone.

Guthrey and his two men checked by the Bridges Ranch to see if Guermo needed anything. A four-mule team hauling a loaded ore wagon came down from up at their mine.

The big red-faced driver, Asa Birk, sat on the seat and reined up his mules, then spoke to Guthrey. “Howdy, sheriff.”

“Howdy, Asa. Heading for the stamp mill below Tombstone?” Guthrey asked.

“Yeah. I take a load a week down there for you all. Leave an empty wagon and take a loaded one out. Takes me two days to get back here and two to get down there to the mill without any breakdowns, so I don't get much done but haul ore for your operation. Sure is high-grade stuff. Most small mines peter out fast. This one sure ain't.”

“We don't want it to,” Noble said. Everyone laughed.

Asa clucked to his team and went on his way.

Deloris told them Guermo was fine and all was well. She offered them some food. Guthrey said no, thanked her, and they all headed back for Soda Springs. By late afternoon, Cally met him at the corral.

“Doc told your deputies today that Fred Morales won't live through the night.”

“He made the decision when he tried to rob Mr. Hayes. He sure hung on long enough with those serious injuries.”

“I know. Just wanted to tell you.”

He hugged her. “Asa hauled off another load of rich ore today.”

“Good. By the time it gets smelted we may need that money.”

“We will?”

“No, I'm just teasing.”

“Good.”

“I have supper for all of you,” she announced.

Dan and Noble nodded.

Dan told them about his plans for the cattle drive and how he had everything lined up: butchers, pasture, and help. They talked about it over the evening meal. He planned to hire three day-hands to help him drive them. Noble never objected; he and Guthrey had talked about how it should be Dan's operation. So they encouraged him and finished their meal.

Guthrey knew his wife was proud of her brother. Maybe the boy was going to grow up. He hoped so.

“Guthrey, I checked at the courthouse. That place down there we were at today could be a good ranch headquarters. It's deeded land and the record shows some guy in California owns it. What's it worth?”

“Since I burned down the squaw shade, not much.”

They laughed.

“Are you interested in a place of your own, Dan?” Cally asked.

“I've been thinking about it,” Dan said.

Cally looked at Guthrey for his answer.

“You better ask her. She handles the money,” he said with a smile.

“What are you going to offer him?”

“Five hundred dollars.”

Noble nodded. “He might take that. Sure ain't making him any money sitting empty.”

“You know him?” Guthrey asked.

“Yeah, he was one of those guys left here early when things got hot. But he wouldn't sell it to Whitmore. His name's Coleman.”

“That's his name,” Dan said. “Euless Coleman.”

“Tell him you aren't a part of them and make him an offer.”

Dan nodded looking smug. “I'll do that.”

“No word from Texas and the McAllen thing?” Noble asked.

“There was no mail from them today,” Cally said. “I went by the office and checked.”

“They will answer in time. No doubt they're shorthanded.”

“You think more Rangers quit over the scrip payment business?” Dan asked.

“More than likely,” Guthrey said. He had no idea, really. Eventually they'd tell him what they could do about the man.

* * *

N
EXT MORNING AT
dawn, Guthrey found Vance down by the corral sleeping in a blanket on the ground.

“What's happening?” he asked, squatting down beside him.

“Montoya is coming.”

“When?”

“He is on his way now. He sent a man named Paschal up here to check things out. Last night Paschal had too much to drink and told me his boss was coming with many men.”

“How many?”

“Five or six is what he said.”

“Who will he strike?”

“The same ranch he did before. He is still mad about them stealing back their horses and his as well. It is to teach the gringos a lesson.”

“I'll have Dan go down there to warn Jim Duval. We'll have a large posse to meet them when they get there.”

Vance agreed. “I will ride south and try to scout them coming.”

“Eat some breakfast with us first. Cally is up fixing food now. You be careful; I need you.”

Vance smiled. “I will. She is a good woman and a good cook.”

“I think so. Thanks for coming. You must have been in the saddle all night.”

“I am fine.”

* * *

T
HINGS MOVED FAST
and in a few hours Guthrey had a posse of ranchers and cowboys ready to start for the Duval Ranch. When they arrived, Dan and Vance were both there waiting with everyone rifle-armed and prepared.

“You found them?” Guthrey asked his man.

“They have a camp down by the Whetstones. I think he wants to raid this ranch at night. His men's horses were not saddled and they were lying around drinking.”

He shook Duval's hard calloused hand. “I guess Montoya didn't have enough the first time. We need to put our horses in your pens so they aren't noticeable. String some rope across where we can to take any raiders off their horses that try to drive through. I have told all the posse they need to stay out of sight in case he uses field glasses on us. You heard Vance's report?”

“Yes. I never thought about ropes. Damn good idea.”

“We need to be ready for them.”

“We will. Gladys has hot beans and corn bread. Get something to eat.”

Guthrey nodded. “I'll tell the others to file in and out the back door for food and the rest of the time stay out of sight.”

“I want to give them a real welcome,” Duval said with a grim nod.

Laughing, Guthrey headed for Gladys's beans and corn bread. “So do I.”

* * *

T
HE HOT DAY
passed slowly. By sundown everyone had a rifle and was ready. Guthrey had been over all the plans of how close the thieves needed to come before a shot was fired. He wanted them down low and hoped his ropes strung up caught some of the raiders.

At twilight, Vance made a circle of the ranch house perimeter and came back to tell Guthrey they were out there on horseback.

“Seven men.”

“I have a dozen rifles loaded. That's two bullets for each man, nearly.”

Quietly, he circled the ranch headquarters, checking each man as the crickets started chirping. He paused and told each man to keep low and that they had the bandits severely outnumbered. The round complete, lights were put out in the house, and he heard horses approaching.

They sure had a big surprise coming. Then the raiders charged, shouting and whipping their horses, firing guns wildly. They reached the edge of the open space in whichthey turned rigs around when Guthrey yelled, “Fire!”

The barrage of bullets caught horses and riders in a tough cross fire. Those that missed being shot were snatched off their horses by the ropes, and posse men jumped on them in the night's darkness and pinned them down.

A curtain of gun smoke slowly drifted away on the night wind. Lanterns were lit and Guthrey dispatched a few wounded horses with his .45, while his crew gathered prisoners.

“Over here,” Vance called to Guthrey. “I think he's dead. This is Montoya.”

The big man's blank eyes stared at the stars for eternity. He had a bandolier strapped across him loaded with rifle cartridges. Wounds in the chest and the side of his head had bled a lot. He wore a walrus mustache and a grim look—the bandit was dead.

“I sure wish it had been my bullet killed him,” Duval said.

“It probably was,” Guthrey said. “This matter is over, thank God. None of our men are hurt?”

Duval shook his head. “Only the raiders. Your rope deal worked great at knocking them off their horses. I'd never thought of it.”

“Jim, sometimes in this business you need to level things. Ropes strung like that will do that for you. Tell my deputy Vance thanks or we'd never have had this much luck.”

“I will.”

“Good. I heard your wife say she had fresh coffee made. Let's go have a cup.”

Dan reported later, “There are two dead, two wounded, and the other three just beat up after getting clotheslined off their horses.”

“All we need now are some fireworks to celebrate,” Guthrey said, reminding them about Mexico. They laughed.

TWENTY-SIX

G
UTHREY WAS BUSY
filling out his monthly expenses on his jail with Baker and Zamora.

“I've decided none of us are accountants or smart enough to do this. After lunch, I'll ask Cally if she'll go over these figures. It's damn expensive running a jail and operating a sheriff's office. No wonder they didn't do it before.”

“The county board complains every month they don't have the money to pay it,” Zamora said.

Guthrey nodded. “But they find ways every time to pay. They don't want our job; they only want us to do it cheaper.”

His men agreed.

“I am going to Cam and Olive's wedding tonight. So let it ride till next week,” Guthrey said.

“I'm willing. We would like to go but figure we might need to be here,” Baker said.

“Tell him to have good luck from both of us,” Zamora added.

“I will. They look real happy.”

He left the office, and when he got home, he saw the team was already hitched. He decided he better get moving.

“Who harnessed the team?”

“Noble. I asked him to. We have a long drive if we are going to be there.”

“Yes, ma'am. Monday you need to look at our expenses.”

“Fine. I can drive. You can eat your lunch on the way.”

“What about my clothes?”

“You look fine to me. We will both be dusty by the time we get there anyway.”

“You are in a hurry.” He picked up the large burrito and motioned to the doorway. “Okay, I'll eat on the way.”

The ride proved dusty enough and, with the heat, long enough. But they arrived on time. Guthrey carried Cally's covered food inside the schoolhouse for her and she brushed her hair, standing beside the wagon.

“Well, we made it,” he said.

“Thanks, I thought you'd forgotten about today, you were so late.”

“Guess I tucked it away in my mind is all.”

“No wonder. You've had enough happen lately for three sheriffs.”

“I still would like McAllen up in my jail.”

“That will be a big order.”

“I haven't given up yet.”

“You'll get him. It all takes time and you are an impatient person.”

“Am I impatient with you?”

“No.”

“Good. The rest don't matter.”

“Oh, my impatient man, I love you.”

“It's a good thing you do. Go see about the bride. I can see Cam's ready out back.”

* * *

T
HE WEDDING WENT
smoothly. After Guthrey had kissed the bride, she whispered, “It's been a long time since the last time you did that. Thanks for Cam, I love him.”

The newlyweds were off for a night at a secret hideout and on Sunday going to Mount Graham for a honeymoon.

“
Vaya con Dios
, Olive.”

“Same to you, Ranger.”

“I'm not a Ranger anymore.”

She mildly shook her head. “Once a Ranger, always one.”

He had to think on that one as they parted. Old flames he thought were extinguished flared up. He felt no need for her as a woman in his life, but he'd never really taken time to consider her words about
once a Ranger. . . .

* * *

N
O ANSWER TO
the letter he sent to Ranger headquarters and more than a month had dragged by. Maybe he should write the marshal of El Paso or the police chief and see if McAllen was around there. No telling. Mail took time and even got lost or spilled beside the road after stage robberies.

At last he received a letter from Austin and Colonel Steve Arrens.

Dear Sheriff Guthrey,

I received your letter and have pursued with my office in El Paso the notion that this person, Alfred Jones McAllen, was in the area. My El Paso office reports that he now resides in Mexico on a large hacienda he owns down there. He does not frequent north of the Rio Grande, according to my men that are on that scene.

I think you will find the authorities down there unwilling to help you apprehend him, since he is such a prominent businessman. I am sorry to be so long in answering you, but correspondence between Austin and El Paso is very slow too.

May I wish you good fortune in apprehending him. If I or my men can help you further, contact either office for assistance.

Respectfully,

Colonel Steve Arrens

“What can we do?” Zamora asked that afternoon when Guthrey met with him and Teddy Baker.

“I'm thinking of asking Vance to go with me and try to bring him out of Mexico.”

“Whew. Risky business,” Baker said. “I bet he has plenty of bodyguards down there.”

Guthrey nodded. “But he needs to be on trial.”

“You better scrap that idea,” Zamora said. “Going into Mexico is way too risky.”

“Once in Mexico, there was a really bad outlaw who'd committed murder in Texas and we knew he was hiding down in the Sierra Madres. The Mexican
federales
let three of us in and we went down there, found him, and brought him out to Texas to hang for the murders. Mexico City complained to Washington, D.C., that we had invaded their land to get him illegally, but by then he was already on his way to the gallows.”

“But he wasn't rich like this man.”

“Rich or not, McAllen needs to be arrested and tried for murdering Mark Peters. That's my job here, to enforce the law.”

“It's a different world down there,” Zamora said.

“I know that. I'm going to talk to Vance when he comes in. We'll see.”

“Zamora is right, he knows Mexico,” Baker added.

“I know you two want me alive, and so do I. I'll investigate it some more.”

He left the two shaking their heads and went downhill to have lunch with his wife amid the smell of sawdust and shavings. The men were making great progress on her new house and she grew more excited over it by the day.

Dan and three hired cowboys were already driving the steers to Tucson and he should be close to turning them in at the pasture he'd rented. The price was thirteen cents a pound, and that was a good one. And the two– and three-year-old steers were still fat.

The sky in the south looked like rain was moving in again. A big bank of thunderheads were moving his way. They'd cool the day off some if and when they dropped their moisture. It was already October and they hadn't had such a bad season.

Noble was there for the noon meal and then was heading for the home ranch. Over the meal, he told them about witching for some wells on the place Dan wanted to buy.

“You know, they missed a big vein of water on that place when they drilled that well where the windmill sets. A hundred yards away there's a helluva stream under the ground.”

“Did you tell Dan yet?”

“No, but I will when he comes back. Might even be artesian water. That would really make that place worth something.”

“Just so that the seller don't know about it. Were the squatters all gone?”

“Oh yeah. No one was there.”

“Good. Dan wrote that guy a letter making him an offer,” Cally said, putting their lunch on the table. Rice, gravy, fried ham, and biscuits.

Guthrey put a brown-topped biscuit on his plate, opened it, and buttered it. He took a big bite and smiled. “Now, that is fine eating.”

The other two laughed.

“I do love your biscuits.”

Her hand on his arm, Cally laughed. “I thought you liked them more than me when you first came here.”

“I camped with three Rangers and none of us could ever get them like that.”

“Well, ain't that funny. Four Rangers could figure out crimes and criminals and not one could make a biscuit worth a damn.”

“I'm not lying. None of us could ever get it right.”

Cally laughed. “I'm sure glad I got it right.”

* * *

G
UTHREY,
V
ANCE, AND
Noble climbed into the stagecoach headed for Lordsburg with tickets for El Paso. Cally was waving from the boardwalk. Their saddles, rifles, and war bags had been loaded in the back under the tied down tarp.

Guthrey prepared himself for being stiff from the stagecoach ride when he got off in El Paso three days hence. He hated such a trip, with all the rocking and swaying while hanging on to the straps. The food would be sorry at the way stations and the outhouse facilities at the stage stops always stunk and buzzed with flies. Sleep would be imposable.

He rubbed his itching upper lip with the side of his hand. Though clean shaven now, he knew before this was over he'd need a bath. Worse than he'd needed one when he'd first ridden into Steward's Crossing and interrupted the shoot-out between Dan and those gunmen that had been unfolding in the street. Hours later that fateful day he met his future wife, Cally, and took a shower. He'd be glad to see her again when he returned from this quest to bring back the man who set up Mark Peters's murder.

After experiencing miles and miles of dust churned up by the horses' hooves and the coach's swaying, Guthrey closed his thoughts down and tried to sleep. That was impossible. The three men finally finished the torturous trip and stepped down in El Paso holding their backs and shaking their heads.

Guthrey told the two, “We'll get a bed. Too hot in the daytime to sleep.”

Both men agreed. He had the stage station man hold their saddles, war bags, and guns. They slept in a hotel room on rumpled mattresses and were up at sunup. They took breakfast in a café, and the food was mouthwatering. When Guthrey looked up at his pleased men, he knew he'd struck gold choosing this place to eat. The coffee tasted rich and smooth. No words were necessary.

They went by the Texas Ranger regional headquarters and spoke to Captain Jason Hawks, who was in charge. He remembered Guthrey and they had a nice visit, but all he knew about McAllen was they thought he was living on a hacienda in Mexico.

Vance had gone to check out the Hispanic end of things in the barrio. Noble went to price suitable horses at some liveries for their transportation to go look for McAllen. They met in a cantina in late afternoon.

“We may be lucky,” Vance said. “McAllen has a favorite
puta
here and a man told me he slips into El Paso to meet with her quite often.”

“Who is she?”

“Donna Lopez.”

“You know where she works?”

“He bought her a house. She has some children they say are his.”

“Hard to find?”

“No, but it has bars and an iron fence.”

“Kinda unusual, isn't it?”

“Oh yes, but it is like a bank, I think.” Vance shook his head.

“We can figure that out. How often does he come up here? Did your man say?”

“He wasn't certain. Thinks he tries to change so no one can count on catching him there.”

“Keep listening. I may go back to talk to Hawks about that. He had no knowledge of McAllen coming here. It must be a real secret.”

Vance agreed.

“Sounds better to me than riding our asses off going down in Mexico to get him,” Noble said.

“I won't argue, but we can't wait forever for him to come up here.”

“Aw, young as he is, he should have the urge to find her pretty often.”

Guthrey and Vance laughed.

“I'll check out this Donna Lopez with Hawks too.”

Noble nodded and said, “Maybe I need to check things out too. He don't know me either.”

“Don't alert anyone. This could be a good deal to get him on this side of the border.”

* * *

T
WO DAYS OF
detective work moved on to three. Hawks knew nothing about Lopez's relationship with McAllen, but he had contacts too. Things began to leak out about their meetings. Hawks assigned Ranger Tod Enlowe to assist them. He looked like a typical freckle-faced cowboy. Guthrey and Noble interviewed some known snitches, but their information was not valuable enough. They rented a third-floor room on the opposite side of the street from the
puta
's house, and Noble kept track of the traffic to Lopez's place.

Vance came in the back way late that night and spoke to both of them. “Christy, my contact, said tonight that McAllen's main man, Don Carlos, was here in El Paso tonight. He may be making sure it is safe for his boss to come over.”

“Noble said only vendors— Wait, there are horses in the street.”

Noble was watching from the dark window when Guthrey joined him.

“I think our man just rode up,” Noble said.

They watched someone under a cape dismount. There were three armed men on excited horses armed with rifles. The person under the cape rushed to the door and hugged a woman in the lit doorway. They kissed wildly, then he turned and spoke in Spanish, “It is all clear. Come get me at dawn.”

“Heeyah,” came the chorus, and the riders rushed off into the darkness.

Guthrey nodded good riddance. “Noble, go get our Ranger Enlowe. Tell him the chicken is in the coop. Vance, you think we can come in the back way?”

Noble sounded displeased. “It will take over an hour to get him here.”

“We have the time. They won't be back for him until dawn.”

Noble hustled over. “I'll get him. You two be careful while I am gone.”

Vance nodded. “I may need to kill those two big dogs of hers.”

“If you can do it without any ruckus, fine.”

“Poison is quiet.”

Guthrey didn't know the details, but he agreed with his man. Vance went off to solve the dog problem and Guthrey watched the lit windows of the house. Nothing else. Once, he heard a dog bark, but it wasn't from her place. The same lamps were on by the time Noble returned with the Ranger.

“You sure he's in there?” Enlowe asked, looking at the house.

“We all three saw him delivered,” Guthrey told the man.

“Where is Vance?”

“Making the dogs be quiet,” Guthrey said. “When he gets through, him and Noble can guard the back side. You and I can crash down the front door.”