The O'Malleys of Texas Page 17

  “What did he say this Mills did?”

  “Oh, the officer was acting tough. Never told me much of anything. Said folks were missing and no one had seen them. Strange I said, and he got angry. Hell with guys like that Mills, he might’ve gone somewhere else and never told anyone.”

  “If I can get Katy to stay here I want to go check on Long tomorrow.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “Thanks. Then she won’t have to worry about me being alone going there.”

  “No problem.”

  Kate agreed to stay if he was coming back shortly.

  Hiram and Harp rode their horses hard and made camp among the cattle bawling at the Underground Ranch, Long’s name for it. The men were eating supper and waved them over to the cook’s wagon.

  Long sent two boys to put up their horses, so they washed up and filled their plates.

  “Well, Long, did you beat my record?” Harp asked, sitting down on the bench with his plate.

  “We got close. But we have steadily worked as many as two hundred fifty head each day and we have over nine hundred fifty head branded. It is getting harder not to bring in worked cattle, and sorting the worked ones off takes time.”

  “Wow, we are close to fifteen hundred head counting them all. That is wonderful.”

  “We have over two hundred fifty steers we can go north with, and I am trying to hold them in a herd. Where should we move them?”

  “The Diamond Ranch has some large well-fenced pasture,” Hiram said.

  Hamp started wondering how he could rent some of that pasture.

  Long asked, “Dad, you think those old maids that own that ranch would rent us some fenced grass?”

  Hiram grinned at Long’s words. “I’d send your brother over to dicker with them. He did all right as your mouthpiece in Missouri.”

  Harper shook his head. Why me? “All right, I agree we need a place to gather these steers to go north and the Diamond has those pastures goat fenced. It would cost lots of labor to re-gather them. We can bring probably a hundred and fifty head from New Ranch up there as well as the ones you branded here.”

  “Hoot’s a good man. He knows longhorns and how to handle them. I think he is as good as any man. I would put him up against you boys day in and day out,” Hiram said.

  “Hell, Dad, that’s why we hired him,” Long said. “Well, it is up to you, brother.”

  “Dad, could those sisters need money?”

  “Depends how much Confederate money they have. I’d bet they have silver and gold, but try, say, a thousand steers at five dollars is five thousand dollars. I think you could afford that to have a gathering place.”

  “That would be half our own herd huh?” Harp looked for his brother’s nod.

  “That might not get it done. You understand that better than I do. But try.”

  “I’m going back, get my wife, put her in a dress, and go see Edna and Josie Cranford.”

  “Yes, with Kate in a dress. How old are the sisters?” Long asked.

  Hiram shrugged. “Seventies. I am not sure. I always wondered why they never married.”

  Long said, “I heard that their father said they both had to find a man and have a double wedding the same day. He refused to pay for two of them. They never could both get a man at the same time.”

  “That’s what I heard, too,” Harp said, laughing. “Katy and I will go see them.”

  “Dad, stay a day. I want to show you how we get things done over here.”

  “You ever come across a man named Jack Mills?” Hiram asked.

  “No, why?” Long asked, avoiding eye contact.

  “The state police say he vanished around here.”

  “They have any leads?”

  Hiram shook his head. “I’m not sure that police guy could find his way back to Austin without a map.”

  “Did he say what Mills did or was doing?”

  “No, and I didn’t worry about him, either. You get home by yourself all right, Harp?”

  “Sure, no problem. I’ll cut out early so I can get home, get Katy, and go see the Cranford sisters.”

  “Hope you can do some good with them old ladies,” Long said.

  “All I can do is try.”

  Long spoke sharply to him. “Hey, old married man, those damn Comanche are still down here. Be careful going home.”

  Harp cut out from the Underground Ranch before the sun came up on the short January day. He probably had forty to fifty miles to get back to Camp Verde, but, pushing his buffalo horse, he’d be in his wife’s arms by seven o’clock. It was cold, but he had enough clothes on not to mind it, and when the sun came up he’d have to shed some. They could use some rain if God could spare them some. That last drizzle wasn’t much and things dried up fast.

  He was crossing some open meadowland when the skin on the back of his neck went to crawling. The sun was trying to peek up on the land, in that half-pink light, before it showed its face. He turned to look over his shoulder and caught sight of a spear coming over the rise.

  Damn. No time to count them and it was over a half mile away to cover. He set spurs to the buffalo horse and tore out for the cover. They took the challenge, yapping like a pack of coyotes, and when he glanced back, a half dozen bucks who’d shed their blankets were pursuing him.

  Man it was too cold to do that, but he wasn’t their mother. Harp thought that they decided it would be a short chase and threw caution to the wind, determined to bring this single white-eyes down and then go back to warm up. He hoped to hell they froze to death first.

  The roan was giving it his all; being grain fed he had an advantage over their grass-fed mounts, but it wasn’t like he had wings, either. By Harp’s estimation, he was not leaving those yapping red bastards fast enough to escape them. It was still a good distance to the cedars and his mount was taking in lots of air, still giving his best effort. The horse must’ve shared his fear of those painted faces.

  He counted that he had nine shots from the Winchester under his right leg and five in his .45 Colt strapped on his hip. The older .30-caliber pistol in his saddlebags had five as well. He’d switched to wearing the larger gun, but he was a better shot with the smaller one.

  At the moment he needed to shed these half dozen lodge brothers on his horse’s tail. They were not overtaking him, but they were maintaining a steady distance back there when he twisted in the saddle to check on them.

  He’d been all the way to Sedalia, Missouri, crossed mighty rivers, met lawmen and turned them aside, and now a half dozen illiterate savages had him running for his life. This dead grass would not hide him. He could only hope to get to the cedar cover and pick them off.

  Katy, if I don’t manage to get free, you and that boy enjoy what I started for us.

  Those yapping redskins had not slacked off one bit; he went splashing through a small creek, and the roan gained the next rise. While pushing the animal harder, he undid the right saddlebags and shook the .30-caliber out of the holster. He rose and stuck it in his waistband. The barrel gouged him but also gave him those five more bullets.

  The hillside of cedar and live oak was closer when he left the wagon tracks and took for the cover. He hoped the roan wouldn’t step in any badger holes. He looked back in time to see one of the Comanche fly off his horse doing just that. He went end over end and smacked hard onto the ground. The other five kept coming.

  At last he slid the horse to a stop, jerked the Winchester out, and saw the shock on their faces while the Winchester, with the butt slammed against his shoulder, smoked fire and bullets. Three were shot. Two horses screamed—hit by the bullets—and two bucks were running away.

  He took aim and shot the one running on his right, right in the middle of his back. In the cloud of gun smoke he saw him go facedown. He levered a fresh round in the chamber and made a head shot at the last one still fleeing.

  The ear-shattering shot cut the buck’s screaming off, and he, also, went facedown. The injured horses made tough sou
nds and somewhere a killdeer shrieked.

  He used his .45 to finish off the dying horses. One buck had not been accounted for—the one that spilled in the horse wreck about a hundred yards back. Harp searched in that direction and saw nothing moving.

  His own pony was standing ground-tied. He caught him and carefully reloaded his rifle with ammo from the saddlebags. The sharp smell of gun smoke burned the inside of his nose along with the bear-grease perfume the Comanche wore. Rifle loaded, he still watched to the east where the horse went down.

  Were there any more in the area to come to their aid? He mounted up with the rifle in his hand. When he found the last one, he’d put the .30-caliber back in the side pocket of his saddlebags.

  The five had gone to Indian heaven or hell. Mounted on his faithful horse, Harp began to ride out through the knee-high dead grass looking for a survivor. He found the savage’s mount struggling on his side. His front leg was shattered. Harp rode in close and shot the pained animal. When he reached the rise, he saw the last Comanche running away down the swale the small stream had made in the meadow.

  The Indian glanced back over his shoulder and apparently saw Harp because he began to run faster. Harp spurred the roan after him. He was closing in when the short buck in a loincloth whirled to face him with a homemade butcher knife. Why, he was a boy. Maybe ten or twelve years old.

  He shot him in the chest with the .45 and the boy staggered. Shot hard, he still raised the knife and made a screaming death charge that was stopped by a second shot to his face. The roan reined in; Harp knew that boy’s angry face would haunt him for a long time.

  It was over.

  He rode all day and it was after nightfall when the stock dogs heralded his welcome at the Camp Verde Ranch of his parents.

  “That you, Harp?” a warm voice called out holding a candle lamp up high enough to see him.

  “I’m unsaddling the roan. I’ll be right there.”

  “You all right?” she asked, running down the steps.

  “I will be now I am here.”

  “Where is your dad?”

  “Up with Long. My brother has near a thousand head of cattle branded.”

  She hugged and kissed him. “You feeling all right?”

  “I’ll be fine. I had a brush with some Comanche coming home.”

  “What happened?”

  “There’s six dead ones back about twenty miles I guess.”

  “No one with you?”

  He shook his head. “I wasn’t looking for trouble. Just to come home.”

  She hit him in the chest with the side of her fist. “Harper O’Malley, I don’t want to be a widow with a boy to raise by myself. Where’s your dad?” she demanded.

  “They’re fooling around up there branding two fifty head of cattle a day. They sent me home on a mission.”

  She laughed at his remarks. “Sounds busy enough for me. What’s your mission?”

  “Go over to the Diamond Ranch and rent some fenced pasture.”

  Katy shook her head. “You two guys have more going on than a one-armed cow milker. I’ll heat you some food,” she said while he washed up.

  “Fine.” He drank two dippers of water from the well bucket on the dry sink.

  “Tell us the truth about today,” his mother said, coming up to them.

  “I deprived six Comanche bucks of breathing.”

  “No one with you?”

  “I never imagined I’d get stopped.”

  “No wonder your wife is upset. Didn’t we all talk about riding two bodies at a time?”

  “They needed all the hands over there. Dad stayed to help for a day or so.”

  “That does not surprise me. He can’t believe his boys are doing all this, and he’s busting buttons he’s so proud of you two.”

  “Well, we have several large steers to be headed for Kansas among the new cattle. But we don’t have hands hired to herd them until next spring. One of the Diamond Ranch fenced sections would hold a lot of them.”

  “They sent you huh?” his mom asked.

  “I am their talking piece.”

  “Who are these women?” Katy asked.

  “Two old maids—who never married and have more money than the U.S. mint.”

  “When will you go see them?”

  “Tomorrow. I want you along to help me.”

  Katy frowned at him. “I am not the talker.”

  “Long said to take my wife. You might convince them if I can’t.”

  “I will come but don’t expect to be much help. I don’t even know those ladies.”

  “You will after tomorrow won’t she, Ma?”

  “I am afraid so.” She smiled and shook her head.

  Katy slapped her forehead and laughed. “I said I will go along.”

  They had a nice reunion in bed later. He asked her how she felt.

  “Like I have a baby in my belly. I am glad I have you, and your mother is here to help me this time.”

  “I may be in Kansas when it comes, but I will worry less knowing you’re safe and sound with Mom.”

  “I will be.”

  Next morning after breakfast, he curried and harnessed the buckskins and they went to see the sisters. The trip was not long, and by noontime they pulled up the long drive to the pillared southern-style mansion. It showed a little wear and tear but it was still a majestic dwelling.

  Smiling, she said, “I’d live here.”

  “So would the king of France.”

  They laughed and he lifted her off the buckboard. The yard had been mowed, and an elderly black butler answered the door.

  “Good day, sir. My name is Able. How may I help you?”

  “Would you tell the ladies that Harper O’Malley is here and would like to speak to them? This is my wife, Katy.”

  “I will announce you, sir.”

  “Very good, Able. They know me.”

  Able tossed his head, indicating they follow him down the hallway.

  “Everyone knows about those O’Malley brothers who sold Texas steers for a fortune in Missouri,” the butler said over his shoulder.

  Katy elbowed Harp and gave him a big smile.

  “Thank you, Able.”

  “Ladies, may I introduce Katy and Harper O’Malley.”

  The two sisters stood up, standing side by side wearing their white lace dresses. Edna the tall straight-backed sister nodded. Her shorter and fatter sister showed them the faded flowered couch to sit on. The elderly ladies took opposing high-back chairs.

  “To what do we owe this visit?” Josie asked.

  Her sister interrupted her. “Sister, first tell them how pleased we are he brought his new wife to introduce to us.”

  “Oh, yes. She is very lovely isn’t she?”

  “Thank you for the compliment. Ladies, I came because I need a favor from you. I would like to rent a fenced section that you are not using, to keep my for-sale steers on until March when we go on our drive.”

  “Will you be going back to Missouri with them?” Edna asked.

  “No. I am taking them up into Kansas to Abilene where they have a market, and there will be less problems getting the cattle there.”

  “My heavens, will they pay you that much per head as they did in Missouri?”

  “I am not sure, Miss Edna, but Missouri sure did not want us to cross them again.”

  “Katy, I don’t imagine you are involved in this cattle business?”

  “No. I am going to stay here with Easter to have our firstborn next July while he is gone.”

  “She is such a lovely lady, Harper. We both wish you the best of good fortunes.”

  “Back to business. How much is the pasture worth?” Edna asked.

  “Five thousand dollars for the next three months,” he said.

  “My, Edna. That is a nice sum of money, don’t you think?”

  “I think, my dear, we have some other business to speak to him about now. Harper, we have not sold any cattle at all during the war years. What size
herds will you take north this spring?”

  “They must be three years old and full-grown steers. Our two herds will be two thousand head apiece.”

  “I am certain they won’t be worth as much as those you took up there.”

  “Miss Edna, if they only bring sixty dollars a head that’s a hundred and twenty thousand dollars gross for each herd.”

  “Sixty thousand each here to the owners?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Josie, let’s rent him a section for a dollar and let him add a herd of our own steers to take with him to Kansas.”

  “What a good idea, Edna.”

  “Ladies, you have yourself a deal.”

  “You can have the southwest pasture we call number four. When do we need our cattle gathered up for you to take to Kansas?”

  “Early March. We will road-brand them here. But I will be in touch and bring papers for you to sign your steers over to us.”

  “There is no stock in pasture number four now, so you can start using it as soon as you are ready.”

  “Ladies, thanks to you, I have lots to do now, so if you’ll excuse us. Thanks for the pasture and my brother Long and I welcome your business.”

  “No way. You are not leaving yet. Your wife needs to eat lunch,” Josie said, shaking her head in disapproval. “It is ready in the dining room.”

  So they ate with Harper in a near panic to get back and talk to Long. Now they had three herds to go north. He had one. Long had another. And they would need a head drover for this new one—would their dad take on that job?

  That was something he’d have to sort out. Roughly speaking they could make over three hundred thousand dollars considering one herd now looked like it would be all their own cattle. That was more money than he could count. Long would think he had gone completely crazy.

  Thank heavens that Katy talked to the women over the meal while he sorted the whole plan out in his mind. Three supply wagons, three remudas, three crews, three cooks, three scouts. More rifles—hell, he had lots to do in ninety days or less.

  After lunch he thanked the sisters and told them he’d be back to work out the details.