Chaparral Range War (9781101619049) (6 page)

SEVEN

A
HEAVYSET MAN WITH
a gray-flecked walrus mustache sat on a fat horse at the low yard fence. He wore a tailor-made green checkered suit and black silk vest, and a gold chain attached to a watch hung over it. His hat was an expensive white Boss of the Plains Stetson. Clearing his throat, the man woke Guthrey, who had still been sleeping in the chair on Doc's porch.

“You must be the gawdamn Texas Ranger that beat up my deputy Lamar Dawes.”

Wide-awake in an instant, Guthrey narrowed his gaze at the man. The sheriff—no doubt. “I settled that last night with Judge Collier. Your deputy was drunk as a hooter. If he tries to arrest me again without a warrant, he may be a dead one.”

“Listen to me. I am the law in this county. You mess with me or my men and you will be pushing up daisies.”

“A citizen has rights. If your campaign supporters keep running off and terrorizing small ranchers you'll be in the jail with them.”

Killion frowned at him. “What proof do you have of that?”

“Let's start with a calf that belongs to an 87T cow found bearing the Whitmore brand. They still lynch rustlers in the West and his neck can be stretched as well.”

“You better not be tied to any lynch party.”

“No one knows the identity of lynch mobs. You know that.” Guthrey stood up and began to fold his blanket. “Did that liar I had locked up tell you that Hampton hired them to wipe us out at the 87T Ranch?”

Still straight-backed as a top rooster, Killion acted like he'd heard nothing of the sort.

“I'll bet when they send him to Yuma, he'll talk his tongue off. Then everyone will know about your partnership with Whitmore, won't they?”

“You're pretty stupid. You keep alleging I'm part of some gang. You'll never prove that.”

“Tell me how stupid I am when a grand jury finds how involved you are with Whitmore in his range-squeeze scheme.”

“I catch you doing anything illegal, you'll do time yourself.” Killion turned his horse and began to ride off to control his own temper. “You keep on, Texas, and you'll never see freedom again.”

“You better ride on, you may miss counting a cow.”

As he stepped inside the open door, Guthrey handed Cally the blanket.

“You shouldn't agitate him like that,” she said in a soft voice. “Either he or one of his men'll try to kill you again.”

“I want them to try to do something. Then I can get them arrested.” He looked down the hall. “How's Dan doing this morning?”

“I don't know; they have him heavily sedated. What if his pelvis is broken?”

“I've worried about that too. But I'm not a doctor. He took a hard fall and was rolled over on by a large horse. That is not a good thing.” To him she looked deeply struck by it all. He wanted to hug her and assure her they'd do all they could for him. If they had to, they'd take him to a larger town like Tucson or El Paso. But how would it look if he hugged her right now? Hell with it. He reached out and pulled her against him.

“We'll do whatever we have to do. There's someone somewhere can straighten him out.”

In his arms, Cally put her forehead against his chest. “Oh, Guthrey, I'm lost. I'm sorry.”

“Listen, my mother called me Phil. Why don't you start calling me that?”

She looked up at him. “I'll call you Phil. Thanks.”

“Good. I just don't want to ruin your reputation. I find myself impulsive around you. I know hugging you might not be proper, but I knew you needed some shoring up.”

She squeezed him tight. “I'm glad that you did.”

They separated at the sound of someone coming down the stairs. It was the doctor.

“Did I hear Sheriff Killion shouting at you out there?” Doc asked.

“Yes, sir. He was out there threatening me to quit bucking Whitmore, I guess.”

The balding physician shook his head in a disgusted manner. “He's not much of a sheriff.”

With a nod, Guthrey quickly agreed. “Do you think the boy's hip is broken?”

“I can't be sure, but I'll treat him as though it is just to be certain.”

“Then he has to stay here for some time?”

“Yes. Definitely. He doesn't need to be shaken apart, and a ride home in a buckboard would do that.”

Guthrey turned to Cally. “Do you have any money?”

“Some.”

“Here.” He reached into his pocket and gave her three ten-dollar gold pieces. “Don't protest. You need to stay here. I'll go back to the ranch. Me and that old man can see about your cattle. I'll come back and check on you two in a week.”

“But—”

Waving his hands at her, he put down her protests. “No buts, I'm heading back to the ranch. You stay here. In a week we can see how he's doing.”

“Phil?” She pulled him down by his sleeve and kissed his cheek. The site burned like a brand. She whispered, “Thanks. You two be careful out there.”

“I bet we know how. Will I need anything to cook for the two of us?'

“Maybe some flour. Do you make biscuits?”

“Not as good as you do. I'll get some flour on the way back. Listen for what they do about that shooter. And I'll see you in a week and you can tell me what's going on.”

“Oh, please be careful.” The worry in her eyes knifed him.

Hell with it. He took a deep breath and kissed her hard on the lips, then turned on his heels to go get Lobo saddled and head back to the ranch. As he passed, he said, “Thanks, Doc,” over his shoulder.

EIGHT

T
HE SIGHT OF
the Bridges Ranch in late afternoon brought a little relief to the soreness in Guthrey's aching back muscles. Part of his back problem came from loading and unloading Dan into and out of the wagon, but he could stand all that and would soon forget it if the boy turned out to be all right.

He saw Noble McCoy come out of the house, back his butt to the wall, and roll a cigarette to wait for Guthrey. When he had dismounted Lobo, Guthrey began to strip out the latigos and called out to him, “Everything all right, Mr. McCoy?”

“Where's Dan and Cally?”

“Doc said Dan needed to stay bedfast for a while. I made Cally stay there to look after him. You got anything that you need me to do, Mr. McCoy?”

“Hell, my name's Noble. I ain't no
mister
.”

“That's fine. Just call me Captain or Guthrey.” He shook the man's hard, calloused hand.

“All right, Cap'n. You and me need to keep an eye on the stock, huh?”

“We need to find that calf that's got Whitmore's brand on it and sucking one of the kids' cows.”

“Holy jiminy, did they do that?”

“That was what Dan roped the day he had the wreck. His reata broke in the process of his horse falling down and then rolling on him. I caught the calf and got the short length of rope off him so he didn't hang up. Then I brought Dan to the house and three of Whitmore's riders tried to cut us off. I got one, took him to Soda Springs. The other two rode off.”

“What did you do with him in Soda Springs?”

“I locked him in the jail. Then I spoke to Judge Collier before Killion got back into town. The judge said they'd hold him until his trial for attempted murder and terroristic threatening.”

Noble nodded as if satisfied about the deal. “I heard tell the judge is a tough ole buzzard. He ain't a territory man either. He's a federal judge. They never could agree on judgeships in the legislature, so they got all of them from the federal system.”

“He isn't that old. He sounded fair enough to me.”

“I was going to wrangle up some supper for myself when I heard you coming. Two minds are powerful smarter than one. What are we going to eat?”

“We can cut off some ham over in the smokehouse. Fire up Cally's range, fry the ham, make some biscuits, and open a Mason jar of something to have with it.

“By jingoes, you are a lot smarter than I am. I was going to boil some pintos till they'd mash and make me some real gas.”

Guthrey laughed. “We may have to eat some of that later, but right now I have the plan.”

“God bless you for that, Cap'n.”

“I'll start a fire in the stove. Can you put that horse up for me and fetch some water? We'll be eating before sundown if we hurry.”

“I been batching so long by myself, I don't have any imagination left. I'm going.” He gathered up the water pails and went to do his chores.

Guthrey watched him go out the door in his cripple gait. How old was Noble? he wondered. Past seventy? Maybe he'd simply lived a tough life, but Guthrey knew from his experience with his own father: Don't dare tell him he's too old. He might whip your ass for even implying it.

The fire in the stove soon caught ablaze and Noble was back. Water was on the stovetop to boil for coffee. The skillet was hot enough to make the ham sizzle while Guthrey's pan of biscuits was in the oven and starting to really bake. He found a quart jar of canned green beans that he opened and poured into a saucepan on the edge of the main fire spot in the range top.

By sundown they were enjoying their supper. Noble was rambling about being with the Texas Army and Sam Houston at San Jacinto when they captured Santa Anna.

“Damn, I was tired of retreating. We kept asking Sam Houston when we were going to fight that bastard. He'd just shake his head and say, ‘When we can win.' Damn, I thought that day would never come. But they got as tired as we did and finally decided we wouldn't ever fight them. And then we struck them hard and we also captured Santa Anna. I wanted to kill him for the Alamo. Sam would not hear of it. Said we wasn't that low. I guess we weren't.”

Guthrey nodded. “We better turn in and go find that calf with the wrong brand in the morning. Or would you like to stay here at the ranch and watch things?”

“When my ass starts dragging, I'll tell you.”

“Fair enough. You tell me when.”

“I might as well get it off my chest. These kids wouldn't have had a chance to survive here on their own with their pa gone. Why did you stop here?”

“I saw that and guess it made me think I weren't doing nothing else right now.”

“What I figured. Couple of men I know saw you in town buck them three over that boy that afternoon.”

Guthrey nodded. “I might have ridden on that day. But it was too obvious Dan was about to be legally murdered.”

“For a fact, he would have been. All right. Good night, then. Ring the triangle. I ain't a real early riser these days.”

“I'll do that.”

Outside Guthrey undid his bedroll from the saddle and went to find a place to roll it out. The coyotes were yapping and their owl accompaniment carried on the night wind, which was making the windmill creak so loud that Guthrey decided it needed grease. At last under the covers, he mentioned Dan in his silent prayers. Then he rolled over on his left side and went to sleep.

* * *

T
HE COW'S HOARSE
bawling woke him early the next morning. He checked the big dipper. It was close to dawn.

He'd learned how to tell time by that constellation on his cattle drives to Kansas. It was how all cowboys knew when their shift on guard duty was over. He had gone on his first drive as the guy who helped the cook, learned the business and the ropes, then soon drove his own herds up the line. Flooding rivers to cross, tornados, storms, stampedes, the sorry element of bandits, and the logistics, a word he learned in the army. He worked really hard for the three to four months of herding cattle north, had deaths in his crew, pneumonia, snakebites, and horse wrecks. On his last trip two boys were shot in town. Maybe the sight of Dan braced by Whitmore's men reminded him of the Dugan brothers, Tad and Arnold, lying dead in the street that afternoon in Wichita while some drunk braggarts bought rounds of liquor in a saloon and told the world what big men they were. Must not have been too big though. Each one of those three fit in some hastily nailed together coffins made from cottonwood lumber.

He milked the cow first that morning, then went up and lit two lamps in the house and started a fire in the stove. He brought in an armload of small split wood for future fires, then put the coffee water on the stove before he started the bread dough. Noble joined him and laughed.

“By God, I can see you're a man without a woman. Any man this handy has been doing his own cooking for a spell.”

“You ever have a wife, Noble?”

He held up three fingers while Guthrey ground up some roasted coffee beans.

“Can you recall their names?”

The old man sat down on a chair at the table. His gnarled hands folded on the tabletop, he nodded. “First one was Claudia. She was my camp follower in the war for Texas, a small Mexican girl who treated me like a king. We were both just kids. When she heard I'd been wounded in battle she tried to get to me. She got ran over by a runaway team and heavy wagon. She's buried in a Catholic churchyard in San Antonio.”

His biscuits in the oven, Guthrey straightened and looked at the old man for more of his story. “Number two?”

“I was riding from Austin to someplace up the Colorado River bottoms. I came across a six-foot-tall woman whose wagon was stuck in the mud. She had a big team of horses and they were no help. One would pull, the other one fall back, and after that the other one would do the same thing. No way could she get them both to pull at the same time.

“‘Well, don't sit on that horse and gawk at a woman in trouble,' she said, sounding disgusted with me. ‘Either get down and help or ride on.'

“‘Hold on to your britches, lady. I'm coming,' I said. In those days I could take a leather line, whip it out, and cut a small patch of hair off a mule's belly to show him who was boss. My pa told me when I did that I was to whisper, ‘Whoa, Jack' and check them with the lines. He also said to do that in a small voice. Second time he'll hear you if he misses it the first time.

“The team consisted of a mare and a gelding that were the worst I ever saw at that trick. So I got on the right side of them, took the lines from her, and shook my head at her offer of the buggy whip she'd been using on them. Next I whipped a line over my back and leaned into the strike, holding them back and said, ‘Whoa, Jack.'

“And I took a small patch of hair off the gelding's belly.

“I mean his ears went forward and he stood on his toes. Their owner didn't like it, but I saw that she kept her mouth shut. When I clucked to them, the mare went forward like I thought, and the horse, he fell back in the harness. I did the line trick again at that moment and he joined her and they rolled that wagon out of the mire.

“She looked flabbergasted. I took off my hat and shook her hand. ‘How in the blue blazes did you do that?' she asked.

“‘Experience,' I told her.

“Well, her man had been kilt in a war, so we set up housekeeping. Wasn't no sin, we were surviving, and six months later we got married. Eulia and I had us a place west of Austin, and we freighted. Made a good living. Never had no kids, though we sure tried. She took a fever, and after six long days she died. We had five good years. I went back to cowboying. Freighting is boring without company, and I was pretty melancholy about life without her. She was a foot taller than me, and we'd wrestle like two bear cubs. One time she'd win, the next I would.”

Guthrey took the biscuits out of the oven and set them on the table, put the skillet of ham-flour gravy on a hot-plate board, and poured them coffee. They ate in quiet, and when they finished, full as pups at a butchering, Noble cradled a tin cup coffee in his hands and continued his story. “Then I met Celia Watson.” He chuckled until he had to set down the coffee cup, then shook his white-bearded face. “Now, that was a funny deal. Sweetest but most scatterbrained female in my life. I found her carrying a suitcase on the road to Mogollon, in the middle of Apache country, and back then they were really bad down in that part of New Mexico.

“I rode up and asked her what she was doing there. She said, ‘I'm damn tired of working in a whorehouse and so I set out to find me a new job. But I guess I plum I forgot how far the rest of the world was away from the Snyder Gold Camp.'

“‘My lands, girl, where are you going?' I said. ‘Ain't no town either direction from here less'n twenty miles. And this is Apache country.'

“She set down on her suitcase and dropped her chin in defeat. ‘How can I do it, then?'

“‘What are you looking for?' I asked.

“‘A job. It don't have to pay much, just so I get out of wrestling with unbathed old men every night.' She shook her head at me, filled with dread.

“‘I've got me a small place up at Alma,' I told her. I did some day work. It suited her and we had a good life together for a long spell.”

“You ain't got a wife now?” Guthrey asked him.

“Lord, no. She died two years ago. She asked me that morning on the road how I was going to get her suitcase and her up there on the horse with me.

“‘Ride double, I guess, and tie the suitcase on.'

“‘That will beat the hell out of walking.' She handed me that carpetbag and it was heavy as hell. I wondered what was in it that heavy. But I tied it on my horn.”

Guthrey laughed at Noble's yarn and shook his head. “How come it was so heavy?”

“I asked her. How she ever came that far a-packing it I'll never know.

“‘Never mind. I'll show you later,' she said. She put one foot in the stirrup, and I pulled her up behind me and looked all around for some copper-faced Apache to be peeking at us.

“We finally made it to my place up by Alma. She was a doozy. But sweeter to me than any woman I ever had. I married her a month or so later. She was twenty years younger than me, but that never bothered her.”

“What was in the suitcase?” Guthrey asked.

“You won't believe me, but she had gold nuggets that those miners paid her inside it. That's how we moved down here and bought that place I live on now.”

“What happened to her?”

“She took sick one day and I got the doc to come there and check her. After he examined her, he came out and shook his head at me. It was her heart. There wasn't anything he could do. It just up and quit on her.”

“Did she linger long?”

“Maybe a week of me praying and hoping to God she'd come out of it. But she passed away one night in her sleep. She was so simple and so scatterbrained, I loved her every day we had together. She'd get up and say, ‘We going to church this morning or not?' Hell, it would be Tuesday. She baked a pie once and forgot the sugar. Sourest dang apples I ever ate, but I ate it all and never let her know it wasn't good.”

Guthrey could see the tears in the corners of his eyes. Noble blew his nose and turned away. “Celia was the neatest thing I ever had, despite her scatterbrained ways. I'd come home tired and she'd crawl on my lap. Tell me how she missed me all day since I left that morning. No one could have been sweeter. And she meant it.”

“Well, you've had a great life.”

Noble shook his head. “I guess I ain't talked that much about myself in years.”

“Thanks, it was a good story to hear. Now let's go find that calf.” Guthrey lifted a lid on the stove to check the fire. It would safely burn out. Then, with the door closed behind him, he went into the early-morning light to pick a horse to ride.