Deadly Is the Night (5 page)

“Still praying together?”

“Yes. Every night and God bless him he lives that life now, too.”

At the celebration, Chet danced with some of the wives, spoke with some of the hands he knew, met others, and the music went on and on. Jesus joined him.

“I think some women have Spencer in their web tonight,” Jesus said.

“I noticed there were some women around him.”

“We've all found someone at one of these and never saw her again, huh?” Jesus asked.

Chet nodded. “I met one in New Mexico coming west with the family one night at the Bernalillo Ferry across the Rio Grande. They were having a celebration and invited me. Lovely widow woman—never saw her again. Her name has even evaporated.”

“Did you and that tall Navajo lady ever have an affair?” Jesus asked him.

“No, but we thought about it. She had deep concerns over her people and she didn't want to give that up. I saw what she was doing, and linked to a white man would only have diminished her power among her people. I understood that.”

“She is six foot tall, too.”

“Every bit of that. Liz even asked me if we had an affair in the past when she met her for the first time up at Center Point. I told her no and why.”

“What comes next?”

“A good plan to watch the south end of the ranch with more help stationed down there. Mexico is lots stricter on anyone crossing their border, and any raid we'd make down there might bring us more trouble. We will reinforce the southern border of our ranch and stop any more invasions into our side.”

Jesus nodded he understood. They'd figure a way to stop the stealing of cattle.

The next day he and JD set up a three-camp idea on the border, each manned by three men to keep an eye on the goings and comings of any rustlers until any threat was over. That was the best solution they could figure out for the time being.

This plan was going to work, JD agreed. Chet and his men planned to ride into Tucson and, using the Force's horses if they needed, look at any of the ranches Russell found for them. Later when they returned to Preskitt Chet could hire boys to have them taken back to Tubac. That all set they went on visiting. Much later that morning Spencer came out of hiding—hungover and no words were exchanged about his absence. He agreed to the border guard plan and after supper they turned in early for a quick start to their ride into Tucson.

The next morning Bonnie and two of the wives had made them a fancy casserole breakfast of scrambled eggs, sausage, onions, sweet and hot peppers with cheese, and Arbuckle coffee plus sweet rolls. They left stuffed full for the ride to Tucson.

They arrived late that evening, put the horses up, ate at Jesus's cousin's diner, and slept in hotel beds. After breakfast the following morning, Chet met with his lawyer Russell in his office.

“Well they have that ranch north of Mount Lemons sold to an eastern buyer. That has the house that Weeks built for his wife. You know her?”

Chet shook his head. He did but didn't even want to talk about her destruction of Reg.

“I'll think of her name in a minute. She's a big man around town's daughter. A very attractive woman. They have a ranch up near Hackberry, too.”

Chet finally admitted, “I know about her. She was the one who really messed up my nephew Reg. I guess she messed up Buster, too.”

“Well after she left him, he and all his deals went to hell. I knew he was over-financed but I figured he'd climb out of it. After she left him, I think he fell off the wagon and went to staying drunk, not minding his business and so it all failed.”

“I will think of her name. As I said, she did the same thing to my nephew. She's a black widow. He was running our place up there near Hackberry and when she spurned him he ended up committing suicide.”

“I didn't know about that, but I do know that when Weeks lost her he lost his way. That house place had a great view of all the country north of Lemon. I think it's what sold that place so quickly and that the bank might come out with very little loss. On the other hand Rob Nye at the Tucson Territorial Bank has the number two ranch. I don't think much besides the ranch land is up there. I heard the ranch houses are old adobe jackals and nothing as nice as on number one.”

“The banker want to sell it?”

“He is no cowboy. Acted like he'd sell it cheap and cut his losses. But you can talk to him. He'll be in his office. Nye's an on-the-up-and-up guy to me.”

“I'll do that. Thanks. What do I owe you?”

“Nothing. Come by more often to talk and tell your lovely wife I said hello.”

“I can do that.”

A young man met him in the Tucson Territorial Bank lobby and asked if he could help him.

“I'd like to see Mr. Nye. Is he available?”

“I think so. Let me check. Who may I say is calling?”

“Chet Byrnes of Preskitt.”

“Nice to meet you, sir.”

In a short while he was ushered into Nye's office. A large portly man rose up and shook his hand firmly. “Nice to meet you, sir. What can I do for you?”

Chet took the seat indicated before the desk as Nye sat back in the chair. “My lawyer told me you had Weeks's ranch number two for sale north of Oracle.”

“Number two is right. They got the gold and I've got the shaft. He tell you they have a buyer ready to pay full price for number one because they've got that damn fancy house that he fixed up for the rich bitch he married and who shortly after that divorced him?”

“He did. Weeks is not the only one she screwed up. My nephew had the same fate and he never even married her.”

“I would not have kicked her out of bed. But she's something else. Originally, in the second ranch deal, Weeks messed me up on it by bringing his cattle from the first place onto that land, joining with the cattle already there, making the herd look big. My men are bankers. They're not cowboys and never noticed different brands while they were counting the cattle. I thought they'd got a good count, but it was two herds.”

“So what do you have left?”

“A count short of a hundred cows. Probably all culls. I have a good man running the ranch. He made a list of the cows and he reported many were old ones. You may go look but there is no
hacienda
-like setting for the headquarters, only some jackals. Seriously, there is a solid title to all the lots of land with it, but it is all cactus country. The deed calls for thirty sections.”

“Is it a good deed? That's over twenty thousand acres.”

“I know that part is good. We double checked the deed and it is all legal.”

“I am interested.”

“What would you do with it?”

“That is a big ranch. Let me go look at it and I'll be back. What was the first ranch's size?”

“As I recall like four sections.”

“And they never offered this buyer your place to join it?”

“Not to my knowledge. I have the most land but I don't have the headquarters.”

“As I said, let me go up there and look. We, maybe, could partner on that place or something.”

“I have been to that house Weeks built on Mount Lemon. He spent a fortune on it. It has running water, a boiler to heat water for bathing, and lots of glass, which cost a fortune to get freighted out here. Mexican floor tile and lots more. He made a castle out there for her.”

“Did she live in it?”

“For about a year I think and then she divorced him. She left after that and went up to their north place. You know anything more about her?”

“I have no idea, just rumors from the cowboys that work for me.”

“Go look at my ranch. I have heard all about your ability to make ranches work.” Nye showed him the land map of the place, and Chet wondered how it became deeded land. A U.S. Government land swap that had, no doubt, been made years ago.

“That big maybe you could find a way to make it work?”

“So far I've made all my others work.” He rose, shook Nye's hand, and went to find his men.

He found them at the café.

“Well, boss, what now?” Jesus asked.

“I am posting a letter to my wife, telling her we are taking a few more days. Then we are riding up north of Oracle to look at a ranch.”

“How big?” Spencer asked.

“Thirty sections.”

“Wow, that is lots of land.”

“All desert the banker says. They have some jackals for headquarters. He said Weeks spent a fortune on the house up on Mount Lemon's back side for a woman he married and who divorced him in a year. That is why the rich eastern man is buying the place. There are only four sections in it.”

“How did they get so much land in the other ranch?”

“The federal government has made some land swaps. The ranch Lucy and Shawn run was one that Bo bought for me. Obviously the government wanted some piece of land somewhere else and the owner of that got the land out here for it. Nye is satisfied the deed is good. How Weeks found it I don't know. But he obviously got it for a song and then mortgaged it to Nye along with livestock they counted twice. The other bank got the smaller place with the great homestead.”

“Counted twice?”

“Yeah, they did that to Nye and I bet Weeks did it to the other banker, too.”

“How?”

“Nye told me his bankers didn't read the brands. They counted legs and divided by four.”

Everyone laughed and shook their heads as full plates of Mexican food were brought over by the girls.

“You need more let us know,” the lead waitress said. “The boss says you are such good customers, to feed you more.”

“Gracias,”
Chet said.

She and the other girls left them to eat their lunch.

After an early breakfast the following morning, they rode north with bedrolls on behind their cantles. Jesus had some good beef jerky and dried fruit for them to eat. Canteens full, they left Tucson behind and went around the mountains for Oracle and on north.

This region had saguaros, prickly pear patches, lots of grass, plus yucca stalks. It also had the century plants that bloomed once in a lifetime and died. Apache squaws used to dig up the plants and make a weak beer out of the roots. Chet never knew how, but he heard stories from some Apache army scouts who told him this is what the squaws did. An occasional patch of tall gnarled cottonwood marked the watering spots for wildlife and livestock in washes and even where springs popped up.

He was impressed when he saw several tanks of mortar and rocks had been built below a spring to water stock, too. There was plenty of grass and he liked the rangeland. The cows they saw when they reached what he considered the property line bore the W—W brand. They were old longhorn cows with great horns, and the bulls were mixed in with the longhorn stock. Certainly not the genetic route to better beef cattle, a big factor in what their offspring were worth on any market.

“Them cows have lots of age on them,” Spencer said. “I'd be surprised they can still have calves.”

“There was talk about old longhorns in Texas that were able to have calves until they were thirty-five or older.”

“These are getting close. Why so many old ones?”

“He probably bought them as cheap cows to mortgage. Bankers are not cattle graders.”

“He always has been a damn crook, hasn't he?” Spencer asked.

“Taken the easy way to go.”

Near dark they reached the shabby headquarters and met the foreman Nye had told him about, Frisco Johns, a squat-built Mexican who greeted them with a big smile. “What can I do for you, señor?”

“Mr. Nye said to come meet you. My name is Chet Byrnes. The good-looking guy is my man Jesus and that other
hombre
is Spencer who rides with us.”

“You come to look at the ranch, señor?”

“Yes. For several reasons. One is what can be done with it? The second one how to do it and what can we do to get that done?”

Amused by Chet's words, Frisco smiled at him. “Most
gringos
come here ask where the ranch house is?”

“I can see that. Where should it be?”

“The man who owned it before Weeks bought it never lived out here. He and his wife lived in Oracle and his
vaqueros
lived out here. He said his wife thought this place was too close to hell for her to live way out here and too far from town to drive for groceries.”

“You worked for him?”

“As a boy, yes, but I left when he got too old and my uncle who ran it retired to Mexico. I came back here later to run the ranch, but when Weeks bought this place he fired me. Said I made too much money and he hired boys in Mexico for little money to be his cowboys. He fed them beans and paid them ten dollars a month.

“I talked to Señor Nye when his bank repossessed it, and he hired me and I found some good men to work, but now there are only eighty cows left. Before we ran four hundred cows and had grass. But now—

“Come inside. My wife will fix all of you some food. We can talk more. There is hay and water in the big pen for your horses.”

“I can put up the horses,” Jesus said in the last red light of sundown.

“No. One of my men, Baca, can do it. Come, the three of you, be my guests.”

Chet thanked the man taking the horses. Then they went inside the adobe house.

A bright-faced woman with a straight back greeted them. She was considerably younger than her husband, her dark hair pinned severely back, but her smile was warm and she was very attractive.

“This is Rosa. Rosa, these are Señor Byrnes, Jesus, and Spencer.”

“Chet, ma'am, and nice to meet you.”

“Welcome to my house. I don't have much company so it is a pleasure to meet you three men. Why are they here, Frisco?”

“Señor Nye sent them to look over the ranch and see what could be done with it.”

“Did you tell them to go to Apache Springs and start all over?”

“Where is that, ma'am?” Chet asked.

“He can show you. Long ago the Apaches used it as a shrine or something. Everyone is afraid the Apaches would come back and burn him or her out if they built there. But now they are about all gone, who would care?”

“That danger is past.”

“I can show you the place tomorrow,” Frisco said.

“Good idea. Thanks, Rosa.”

She smiled. “See, Frisco, I told you someday a smart man would come here and believe me.”

He laughed. “She has said that for years.”

“You two have been married for years?” Chet asked.

“Yes. Bandits killed her family in Mexico. I found her.” He turned to her. “You were how old?”

“Thirteen. He really did save me or I would have died.”

“I told her she could not live with me. She said marry me. I had no one. But I said I can't I am old enough to be your father.”

“I said he was not my father and had no family to stop him.”

Frisco agreed with her story and continued, “So we went to a priest and told him to marry us. He said no she is too young.”

She came back. “So I said, no problem. I would go on living with him as his wife anyway. So he married us.”