A Good Day To Kill Read online

  “He’s damn shorthanded. And he’s been borrowing vaqueros from other ranchers to move his beef shipments. My informants say he lost as many as twelve men, or more, in his ambush of your men.”

  “Good,” Roamer said. “I’d like twenty more.”

  “Damn right,” JD said. “They started in shooting at us and it took us several minutes to realize they had no rifles. Their powder was real sorry and by then we had our Winchesters blazing.”

  Shawn took up the story. “I was running as fast as I could to get them ammo. Bullets whizzing all over. I couldn’t help the brothers. They were taking the west mountain. I was never so shaken in my whole life, but I had no time to think about it. I recall taking more ammo to Roamer and he said, ‘Kneel down.’ Then he went on, saying, ‘We’ve won. Find the others. Have them come down here, if they can make it.’ Blood was coming down his face and he looked real woozy. When I asked what I could do for him, he said, ‘Tie my silk kerchief around my head. That may stop the bleeding some.’

  “JD came in with a bloody arm. Cole had four small wounds. The brothers were just scratched. I sent a boy to the fort for medical help. And, boy, they arrived quick and they were good. Then Roamer told me to telegram you that we were all alive.”

  “I figured they were trailing back to Mexico and I wanted them stopped,” Roamer said. “We agreed when they went over the mountain we’d strike them. They never went over. Instead, they set up to ambush us.”

  “Any idea who led them?” Chet asked.

  “Kurt Holder. He was the main man. Big man, stood six-foot-six. Standing on that ridge he made an easy target, shouting in German to Mexicans what he wanted done. He thought we only had pistols, too, I guess. But we shut him up in a snap of the trigger and spilled him on his ass. That shocked his men that our bullets could reach him. They kept shooting their old pistols, but we were counting bodies,” JD said. “The brothers were tearing up the ones on the west side, and because they had rifles, they could even shoot at the ones on the east side.”

  “Then their reserves came from somewhere and they acted interested in getting the bodies off the field. That’s an oak-juniper country and really tough to get around.” Shawn shook his head. “They didn’t bring rifles back, thank God.”

  “Do you think those reserves were supposed to be there at the start of the attack?” Chet asked.

  “Probably, but we had the original ones cut down so bad, they would never have gained the edge again,” Roamer said.

  Captain Evans laughed. “I liked the tall target story. Him ordering in German to Mexicans what he wanted done.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “You think that was how they cut down the Skeleton Canyon pack train?” Cole asked.

  Chet nodded. “Yes, but they must have had some rifles there.”

  “What’s next, boss man?”

  “Take our horses to Ortega’s. Get on a stagecoach for home. Take three weeks and see what we can do best after that. We should be healed by then.”

  “I’d vote for that,” JD said.

  The rest nodded.

  “Evans, you have anything on Clayton’s sons?” Chet asked.

  “Mostly drunks. Small crimes, and they hold up stages on both sides of the border.”

  “Maybe we can round them up when we come back.”

  Evans agreed with a nod. “I bet you could get them cold-handed. I have a half-dozen Apache bucks that love to trail people. You need trackers, send me word.”

  Everyone nodded.

  “I’ll have them feed you some lunch and you can get on your way.”

  “You ready to pull out for Tubac?” Roamer asked Chet, sounding concerned about his strength.

  “I’m fine. You have a horse for me to ride?”

  “By damn, we can get one for you.”

  “Let’s move out then. I want to thank you and the Army.” Chet shook the Captain’s hand.

  “I wished they’d still been hanging around when my scouts found them.”

  “Yeah,” JD said. “We’d have let them in on the action.”

  Evans assured them the Army would help in any way possible. In an hour, Chet on one of his roans, they all headed westward. It was a long day and after sundown when Ortega’s wife, Maria, greeted them.

  “Oh, I am so glad, Chet, you are alright. Is something wrong?”

  “Oh, we’re a little bunged up, but we’re going to take a break. The men will go home and get rested. Where’s Ortega?”

  “They took some cattle to Tucson for a man. They did not know you were coming back so soon.”

  The brothers were not back in the morning. Maria said it would take them several days to drive the stock up there and sell them.

  “No problem. We didn’t know yesterday we were doing this, either. All will be fine. Can you feed my horses while we’re gone?”

  “I can do that. It is so good to see that you are alright,” she said.

  “And Ortega will need to take those deserted women some food this week.”

  “No problem. What are you going to do with them?”

  “Take them back to Mexico. But I’m too damn busy right now.”

  Maria laughed and hugged him. “You are always too busy.”

  Cole found him a bedroll. They were unsure where his roll went after he’d been shot.

  She offered to feed them, but instead they gnawed on some jerky before they turned in.

  “Breakfast in the morning,” she promised, and left them.

  After breakfast, Shawn used the ranch buckboard to take them into Tubac. They found a mail wagon headed north, and Chet offered four dollars to the Mexican driver to transport him and Jesus to Tucson. Saddles, bedrolls, and war bags were transferred, and they headed north at a good trot.

  “My name is Pablo,” said the driver.

  “I’m Chet and he’s Jesus.”

  “You must have much business in Tucson?”

  “Yes, we’re U.S. Marshals.”

  “Oh, I see. You are the Force, huh?”

  “Yes, we’re part of it.”

  “God bless you, hombres. I will drive, feeling much safer on my route with you riding with me.”

  “Good. That’s why we’re here.”

  Late that evening, the two took a hotel room and then went out to eat. Jesus knew a nice Mexican food place with soft music and a dancer. He promised Chet great food. It was all of that, and afterward they went back in the breathless city night to their hotel.

  “Sure be nice to be home,” he said, pushing into the room.

  “Oh, much better.” Jesus laughed.

  After a sidewalk breakfast from a vendor, they went by and saw Marshal Blevins. Chet knew he’d be there, since his boss was an early morning man. They had a nice conversation, and Blevins hoped they could return and finish their efforts.

  “I plan to do that. We need some time to heal. I need to see about my wife and my ranches, then we’ll be back.”

  Blevins shook his hand. “I’m counting on that. You’ve sure done your part here.”

  When they left his office, the day’s heat had set in. At the law office, his secretary said Russell Craft would see them right away.

  “Well, the head man of the federal force is here. Have a chair, Chet. Nice to see you, too, young man.”

  “Any news on our real estate problem?”

  “I have spoken to the prosecutor and he acts like maybe he doesn’t want to go forward with this case.”

  “That would be like me letting captured killers return to Mexico unscathed. Prosecuting criminals is his job.”

  “It might be good for you to tell the prosecutor what his job is.”

  “I can do that.”

  “What else?”

  “Buster’s man, Masters, hired killers to shoot me at my home. Promised them two-fifty more when they killed me.”

  “I’m sorry. You’ve done a tough job down here. The prosecutor should be on your side.”

  “What is this prosecutor’s n
ame?” Chet asked his lawyer.

  “Niles Proctor.”

  “I met with several businessmen and lawmen who wanted the law enforced when I came down here and set up my command. You think he was there?”

  “I doubt it.”

  “As a U.S. Marshal, can I request his help on this crime?”

  “You sure have that authority. And, at your request, a judge could call on him to answer why he’s not working on it.”

  “I’ll do that. I intend to buy that ranch and make it a working one.”

  “I’ll remain on the case for you. It’s a simple case of fraud.”

  They shook hands.

  “You ever trout-fish?” Chet asked.

  “Oh, yes.”

  “I have some rough cabins up on Oak Creek. Drop a line in and it’s a cool, sweet place to hook fish.”

  “I’ll be up to see you.”

  “Let me know when you’re coming. Take a stage to Preskitt, and one of my men will show you up there.”

  “I will make plans to do that.”

  “I’m going over to see Proctor.”

  When they crossed to the federal court building, the day’s heat was already building. They found Proctor in his office. When his secretary showed Chet into the office, he blinked and took his flat shoes off the desk. “Marshal?”

  “Marshal Byrnes. I came to see you about this scandal over some false filings in the courthouse land office. I believe it was done to gain control of a large plot of land and was done by some prominent people.”

  “You have any proof?”

  “A grand jury could pry it out of them. If you don’t get rolling on this, I plan to speak to the Chief Justice about your neglecting your job.”

  “You . . . you . . . can’t threaten me.”

  “I can, and I’ll take the top off this building when I do. If you don’t have this grand jury under way in ten days, I’ll call in the judges and find out why.”

  “You can’t do that.”

  “Your buddies, Weeks and Townsend, are in my sights. But there are others who were going to get rich by stealing that ranch. I say you know who they are.”

  “I won’t be threatened.”

  “I’m not threatening you. I will press for this. Are you ready to get on with it?”

  “Listen, you little Texas rich boy. Folks have trouble making a living here, and small deals ain’t that important.”

  “If I shot your wife this afternoon and said she got in my way, would you defend me that I was only trying to make a living?”

  “That’s crazy.”

  “There’s a ring here ruling things about business. Now if you want them on the front page, then you refuse to bring this bunch to the bar. I have more power than you think. Besides, I’m not some little rich Texas boy. I stand six feet tall. I’m an Arizona resident. I’m a livestock rancher and, also, a deputy U.S. Marshal. And if Old Man Clanton messes with me again, he’ll be in Boot Hill with his nephew.”

  “You’re a gawdamn fool!”

  “I may be, and you may be in Utah next, if you don’t get it done.” Chet knew federal judges and prosecutors hated to be assigned to Utah worse than Arizona. He turned to leave. “I’m counting. Get your ass busy.”

  Outside the office in the hall, a smiling Jesus joined him. “You are mad. Did you do any good?”

  “We’ll know in a few weeks.” He lowered his voice. “He’s tied into this ring. They don’t want to be investigated. I promised him they’d be next. He may have to decide what he wants.”

  Crossing the blazing-hot street, Chet looked over at his man. “Wouldn’t it be nice to be back home?”

  “Let us get stage tickets. Hell, I hate this place.”

  “Let’s go.”

  “Yes.”

  They headed home at eight o’clock and even the moonlit desert north of Tucson felt cooler as they rocked northward. He soon slept.

  CHAPTER 5

  Hayden Ferry matched Tucson’s heat, but he and Jesus arrived there late in the day. Due to repairs being done on the coach, the Black Canyon Stage hadn’t left yet, so they bought seats. He wired Marge they were coming. Tired because of his still sore shoulder, he hoped he could rest at home.

  Jesus woke him on the stage-line bench. “I have all our things aboard. JD and Cole came through here last night. They’re all split up, like you asked.”

  Chet smiled at him. “Wonder why those newlyweds want to be the first ones home?”

  They both laughed.

  That night, the stage swept them out of the desert’s heat into the mountains’ coolness. He could smell the pines and felt better when he disembarked and shook Jimenez’s hand.

  “Good to have you back, señor.”

  “Jesus and I can say the same thing. No baby?”

  “No baby yet, señor. We are all waiting.”

  He could imagine his wife was as well.

  “I will get our things,” Jesus said after him.

  “Thanks, pard. Sleep in. We both need some rest.”

  Jesus waved that he heard him and in the starlight headed in the opposite direction. That boy was so damn dedicated to him, he wouldn’t listen. Chet was grateful for such loyal help.

  Marge hugged him in the dark on the back porch. “Sneaking in?”

  “Yeah. How are you?”

  “Full.”

  “I’m here to help for a few weeks, until my men are all rested.”

  “Can I say, I’m sure tired of being a mama in waiting? Oh, it’s so nice to have you home—I won’t complain any more, I promise.”

  “Hell, complain all you want. I won’t tell anyone.”

  “Good. Is everyone alright?”

  “No one is seriously hurt. They ran into a bad enough ambush, but the enemy didn’t take them serious enough in the first place. They shot their way out.”

  “What now?”

  “We rest. Get ourselves back together and beat them again.”

  “Your new ranch?”

  “Oh, it will be ours shortly. That will be alright.”

  “How will you handle it?”

  “Get me a foreman and go from there.”

  “Will JD stay there long enough to run it?”

  “I think so, or I have a man better than Raphael to run it.”

  “Who is that?”

  “Ortega Ninni.”

  “Oh, I’m keeping you awake. You hungry?”

  “No, let’s sleep.”

  They hurried upstairs; he undressed and the cool night air washed over his bare skin. Good to be back home and away from all that damn heat.

  They slept past dawn. He started the boiler and took a shower, shaved, and dressed in the fresh clothes Marge laid out for him. Felt good, and he went down to join his wife and Monica.

  “Strawberries and blackberries are from Oak Creek,” his wife said, setting the two bowls on the table. “That Leroy is a genius at growing things. He’s going to have peaches and apples this fall. Oh, and cherries are about ripe.”

  “You made it back in one piece,” Monica said.

  “I’m here.”

  She put a plate of food in front of him. “Eat. We have big things for you to do.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I don’t know yet, but you won’t sit there long before some damn fool will come by and need you.”

  They laughed.

  “Is it hot down there?” she asked.

  “Hotter than hell.”

  “I used to live down there,” Monica said. “You were smart to buy ranches up here where it’s cooler.”

  “I agree.”

  After breakfast, he found Jesus shoeing horses at the big barn. His man looked up and smiled. “They were behind on this job.”

  “Hitch a team and we’ll run down and see Tom.”

  “I’ll have them up and ready in a few minutes.”

  “Going to rain?” he asked Jesus.

  “Better wear a long coat.”

  “I can do that.”


  They were soon on the road. Jesus had picked a fast team and lost no time heading to the top and then down the long mountain grade to the Verde Valley. They rolled into Chet’s sister’s front yard in a cloud of dust. When she rushed out to greet them, he hugged and kissed her, then held her off and smiled at her new size.

  “How are you, Susie?”

  “Big. You look good. I can fix lunch. Tie them up, Jesus, and come in.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “How is the house at the Windmill Ranch coming along?” he asked.

  “Slow. I should have ordered a three-room shack.”

  “No, you’ll be proud of this one.”

  “Oh, heavens, yes, I will. But me being so big and so anxious is all hard on me.”

  He hugged her. “You’ll make it.”

  “I think it’s raining up on the mountain. Was that thunder?” she asked Jesus.

  “Clouds were building when we left up there.”

  “Good, we can use it.”

  Tom dropped by to join them. The men sat at the table and enjoyed her rich coffee.

  “My corn crop sure needs some moisture down on the Verde,” said Tom.

  “You have it where you can water it?”

  “Yes, but rain beats irrigation on small grain.”

  “How is the new alfalfa?”

  “Doing great, but I didn’t spit on it like Hampt did.”

  “What is that?” Chet asked, amused.

  “Man, he has babied it. But that cowboy is going to beat us. He has a wonderful set on his new land. I think he used more of the black dust on the seed than I did and it shows.”

  “Can you catch him?”

  “I doubt it. I didn’t take it serious enough. He did. I’ll let him plant the new stands.”

  “You two may fight over this. I’m grateful we’re going to have so many acres of good feed for our stock. We can push our Hereford bull calves to use them at two years of age.”

  “I’ve tried.”

  “Tom, I’m not complaining. We’re all learning this ranching business out here, and we’ll be a tougher team because of this.”

  “We’re doing all of our own hay this year. We have all this ground down here in hay. Save for the cornfield, which, I think, can help us. Most of the alfalfa land you bought is doing good. We’re re-fencing it with barbwire. The range has lots of grass and now that rain is drumming down, God is smiling at me.” He indicated the sounds on the roof.