A Good Day To Kill Read online

  “Tom, I’m as proud of this place as I can be. We still need to learn how to ranch better all the time.”

  “I can’t believe we’ve got this far from the mess Ryan left us.”

  “Amen. Let’s hold back some three-quarter blood bull calves that are well muscled and look more Hereford than longhorn. I think we can find a market for them. We aren’t the only ones running around looking for bulls to improve their herds.”

  Tom agreed. “We could sell a few. It might help some folks get more from their cattle.” He started to rise from the table but settled again when Chet waved him back.

  “Tom, I’m not disappointed at anything you’ve done here. This is a helluva big job. But I can be gone and I never lift my head at night worrying about this ranch or its operation.”

  “I know, but Hampt beat me this time.”

  “No, you both won. Tell Millie hi. You getting any berries?”

  “Wow, yes. We all are. Leroy is really good at that stuff. He’s happier than a full pig in the sunshine. You hired another winner. I’ve eaten more strawberries this spring than any time in my entire life.”

  “Did you really think he could do that?” Susie asked Chet.

  “I knew he was a farmer. He never before had all the good dirt and water he has up there.”

  “Those nephews of yours think it’s heaven to go up there, catch fish, and eat fruit all day. Tell Tom about Rancho Diablo,” Susie said.

  “Massive place down there. Hot and dry, but lots of feed. Developing water will be the big push. Their land claim is fake. The judge will order them off. Before it’s all over with, there may be some shots fired. It was Buster’s man, Masters, who hired those killers to come to the house and kill me.” He paused and shook his head. “I spoke to the prosecutor in Tucson about calling a grand jury investigation. I think it will step on some of the Tucson ring members. I threatened to call in the federal judges if he didn’t move on it.”

  “How big is this new place?” Tom asked.

  “Forty-eight thousand acres, plus the deeded places that Bo is buying around it. He has a half-dozen homesteads he’s bought around Windmill, too. He’s making Sarge a list. Most of those are completed homesteads that usually have good wells. And some more for Reg. We are expanding.”

  “Who will run the Diablo?” Susie asked.

  “JD wants a chance. Two of the men helping my posse, the Ortega brothers, want to help him. They are vaqueros like Raphael’s men. Tough as cactus ribs.”

  “How much longer will you be on the border?” Tom asked.

  “I hope no longer than six months. Then Blevins can get himself a new head for the Force.”

  “Who would he get?”

  “I imagine Roamer, if he’d take it.”

  “How will you ever come back here, settle down, and simply be boss?” Susie asked.

  “That we would have to see about, sister dear.”

  Chet checked on John, the blacksmith, and the barbwire process. It was really going and John smiled when he saw him.

  “Can’t sell you any wire. You’re the third man today dropped by to ask me.”

  He stuck out his bare hand and they shook.

  “You’re doing a helluva job,” Chet said over the rattle of the twisting wire.

  “I’d bet there’s an engineer somewhere doing this full steam in a plant. But we’re not doing bad. My crew has it down and I can’t see us making it any faster.”

  “Don’t worry, you’re doing excellent.”

  “Thanks. Hampt says the cattle don’t mess with it.”

  “That counts.”

  In the buckboard, Jesus swung it around and he studied the rim off in the north. He planned to go see Reg and Lucie in the next few days. He and Jesus stopped to shrug on their canvas coats—it was raining again. Thank God.

  Their drive home was a wet one, but he wasn’t mad for a moment of it. He and Jesus laughed and joked about it. Thunder rumbled and more wind swept them. A helluva great day to be in Arizona.

  The big house was being pelted by more moisture and there were three buckboards with soaked teams, heads down, parked in the yard. Marge must be in labor.

  He jumped off the seat and hit the sloppy ground on the run headed for the back door. In the back porch, he took off his soaked hat and coat, then his muddy boots, and looked up at Jenn’s face.

  “Anything wrong?”

  She shook her head at him. “No. None of us wanted to miss the event.”

  “Is it close?”

  “He should be here before the sun goes down.”

  “He?”

  “That’s my guess. You can go in the living room where they’ve set up Marge’s bed. Then go up and change clothes. Those look damp. How are things down there on the Verde?”

  “Busy, like always.”

  Marge lay under a sheet on the bed in the living room, and he took her hand and squeezed it. Head bent over, he gave his flush-faced wife some words of encouragement. Her head nodded and she gave him a shining smile. That made him feel better and he started upstairs to change. This would be a long evening for both of them. Lord help her.

  After changing, he slipped back downstairs and into the kitchen. Monica nodded at him.

  “Any problems?”

  “I don’t think so. But the midwife told me she wanted the doctor here. I sent for him, and Jenn as well, since they’ve become such good friends after going to Tombstone to care for you. They’re both here.”

  “You did well. Who else is here? There are three rigs out there.”

  “Kathrin Ivor. Didn’t you see her?”

  “Faces were blurring on me. Yes, I know Kathrin.”

  “She told Marge she owed you her life for bringing her out of Utah. She knows Marge is very important to you, and she wanted to do anything she could for her.”

  He picked up a fork and started on the roast beef, gravy, and mashed potatoes. “I wonder if this would be easier if I was ten years younger.”

  Monica laughed. “No.”

  He nodded and went on eating. This would be a long day for him, as well as for Marge.

  Minutes rolled by like hours. He spoke twice to Kathrin and thanked her for coming. To pass the time, he went to the horse barn and talked to Jesus, Jimenez, and Raphael. They were little help.

  Close to sundown, Jenn came for him at the barn.

  “What is it?”

  “You will know soon enough.”

  “Aw, come on.”

  “She’ll show you the answer.”

  Marge was sitting up and looking tired. Hair in her face, she swept it back and with a huge smile held up a red-faced baby to him. “Here’s our son, Chet.”

  “Yes . . .” He paused. “Thank you, Lord. Thank you, Marge. Thank all of you for helping her and me—what did you call him?”

  “Adam Chester Byrnes.”

  “Well, Adam Chester, you’ve got lots ahead of you around here.” The baby in his arms yawned like it was all beyond him.

  Marge nodded. “Does he suit you?”

  “Fine. You’re alright?”

  “I’m doing fine.”

  “Good. He’s a great boy.”

  So his son was there at last. Things at home should settle down. He rocked the baby in his arm. One more of his widespread family.

  CHAPTER 6

  Marge and the baby were fine, and Chet had Monica round up plenty of help. He intended to make a check of things on the Rim, so had Jesus load two packhorses. He planned to stop and see Betty and Leroy Sipes at the Oak Creek place, visit Tom at the sawmill, and then ride on to Reg’s at the Mogollon Rim Ranch. Bo had bought him, sight unseen, ten homesteads near the big ranch on the Rim and he wanted to look them over, if he had the time. Word of his plans must have slipped out, because the morning they were ready to leave, Cole was there to go along as well.

  After Chet kissed his wife and baby good-bye, the three set out for the lower place. Down on the Verde River Ranch, Susie met them on the front porch and l
aughed after hearing the news of his son’s birth.

  “Well you won this race, big man. How are they?”

  “Fine, how are you?”

  “Ready to get it over with. Come on inside. When they tell Sarge you’re here, he’ll come. I’ll make some coffee.”

  “Can’t stay long. We need to also see the Sipeses today.”

  Susie shook her head, amazed, and put the pot on the range. “That man is a wonder. He sends us food twice a week.”

  “Monica says he even brings her garden stuff.”

  “I don’t know how he has time for anything.”

  “Betty is probably doing a big part of that.”

  “I bet you’re right.”

  “Besides, he really wants to prove he’s valuable to us.”

  “He sure is that.”

  “Well, the threesome is back,” Sarge said, taking off his hat and coming in the doorway. “Papa, congrats. We understand your wife is doing good.”

  “She’s fine. I’m headed up to see Leroy, and then Tom at the sawmill. We’ll ride on to Reg’s after that.”

  “The mill must be going full blast. We’re making money dragging logs. He says he’ll need at least two new teams before fall.”

  “Sarge, don’t complain. Between him and his crew, we aren’t using any cattle sales money so far. His operation is carrying the ranches.”

  “We have hay and grain going his way in the next two days.”

  “How’s Barbwire John?” he asked his man with Sarge.

  “Making rolls. But, for us, there is no end, is there?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Herefords doing alright?”

  “Great calf crop on the ground. The ranch is having a good calf year, too.”

  “And we should have some steers to sell off this place at long last.”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “Sarge’s drives are working. Bo Evans has bought us several homesteads that join the Windmill ranch, too. That usually means there’s water at these places, maybe some farm land.”

  “Do you have a description of where they are?” Susie asked. “I’d love to go find them.”

  “You can do that—after the baby is born.”

  She wrinkled her nose at him and began pouring coffee. “I won’t be a housewife forever.”

  “We’ll see,” he teased her.

  They rode on, and by evening were at Oak Creek. Betty and Leroy hugged the three of them. Horses put up, Leroy showed them the cabins nearing completion and his acres of vegetables, fruit trees, and berry bushes. While they walked through his crops, Betty rushed off to cook supper for them.

  “Anyone ever tell you that you have a green thumb?” Cole asked.

  “No, it’s the rich land I have to farm.”

  “Everyone that gets the fruit and vegetables appreciates them,” Chet said.

  “I don’t miss a soul but Reg, who is too far away. Robert Brown at the mill gets his share, I feed the big ranch, send stuff for Sarge, and to your wife’s place.”

  “You’re doing great.”

  Leroy was beaming. “The great ones are you three. I’d of died up there had it not been for you men. No one else was coming for me. I can farm, but only because you went the long miles to save me.”

  Jesus rubbed his shirtsleeves. “Well, it was a long cold mile going after you.”

  “Too cold, but we sure don’t regret it now,” Chet said, and headed for the house.

  The next morning, after a great breakfast, they rode up on the rim to the mill. Robert Brown and his smiling new bride, Agnes Jean, met them. He acted excited to see them and the four men had a great talk on the porch of his small house. Robert asked about his feed shipment, and Chet assured him it was coming and he settled down after that. He told them the mill operation was going full steam. He thought the future railroad track would run close to the mill, but Chet knew the end of the iron tracks were still back in Kansas. A long ways from the snow-capped peak of the San Francisco Mountains far north of them.

  The next day, they reached the base of that mountain, where several had struck homesteads, rail-fenced some of it, then planted alfalfa in plots and kept large gardens. Too early for much development and no money or markets was what he saw. Only the railroad would ever bring this region out of its weak financial problems. As they rode along, they passed near where Susie’s first husband died in a horse wreck. They camped on the high plains west of there that evening, then went on to the Mogollon Rim Ranch the next day.

  Stock dogs barked at their approach. A very pregnant Lucie waved at them from the porch. Three men came running from the blacksmith shop in leather aprons and heavy gloves to greet them.

  “How the hell are you, Chet?”

  “Great. What are you guys making?”

  “Oh, a gadget. How is that new man at your house?”

  “Got lungs. He’s all boy.” Then he shook hands with Lefty and Haze, two cowboys he’d hired for Reg the summer before and they’d stayed with him.

  “Weather didn’t get too bad for you two?” Chet asked them.

  “No, and Lucie’s about the best cook we’ve ever found,” Haze said. “Besides, me and Lefty don’t have a place to go, so as long as he puts up with us, we’re here.”

  “So is my cousin Willy,” Lucie said. “He’s gone to check on a heifer. Coffee boils slow up here. It will be ready in a little while. Who’s next on the baby delivery?”

  “May, I figure,” Chet said.

  Lucie nodded, looking thoughtful. “We’ve been reading in the letters about your border Force down there.”

  “We’re taking a short break from that. I had to come see your wonderful house.”

  She about blushed, shook her head, and then smiled. “My crazy sisters call it a mansion. We’re finding furniture for it and I love it.”

  Reg came by and squeezed her shoulders. “She’s getting used to it anyway.”

  “How are all those mavericks doing?”

  “Aw, we have the damnedest set of calves. You’ll have to see them. Of course, I need some Hereford bulls to breed them back to. But we have a calf crop and their mommas never missed a bite this past winter. We never got to plant any alfalfa. Guess I better get Hampt up here to do that, huh?”

  “Tom said he beat him at it, and that’s doing something. ’Course we think he prayed over it every day it was coming up.”

  “If that’s what it takes, this crew can do the job,” Reg said. “They all agreed. Now tell us about Rancho Diablo. JD wrote me some things.”

  “Big, hot, and dry. The squatters have three hundred mother cows on it, but they didn’t make a dent in it.”

  “You getting it straightened out?” Reg asked.

  “Law grinds slow, but I figure we’re closer by the day. I have a good lawyer in Tucson. There are over forty-eight thousand deeded acres in the place. By the way, Bo bought about ten homesteads around here that were deeded to join this place.”

  “Where are they?” Lucie asked, pushing in to pour coffee.

  “Jesus, the papers are in my saddlebags. If you’ll go get them, we can go over them. Bo also has about that many he bought over by the Windmill Ranch. That usually means there’s a well and cabin. We’ll have to see what they are.”

  “Back to Diablo,” Reg said. “What needs to be done?”

  “More water developed, like all these places. Headquarters built and get going. We do have some squatters dumped on us.”

  “What?” Lucie asked.

  He told them about the women and children abandoned on the ranch. They shook their heads, and Willy arrived back from his heifer search to shake hands.

  “She had a big bull calf,” he said proudly. “Doing great. Sure good to meet you at last, sir.”

  Chet smiled at him. “Me, too.”

  Jesus arrived with the deed copies and descriptions.

  “Lucie,” Reg asked, “you recall the place we called Cornfield, for the old stalks there?” At her nod, he said, “Yes
, well we own it now.”

  “There’s squatters on this one,” Haze said. “Reg, that’s north of Hatter’s Hill.”

  Reg nodded. “They look like a rag-tag army, too.”

  “Didn’t you and him have words?” Lucie asked with a knowing grin.

  “Yeah, he had a hide nailed on a shed that I recognized. Told him not to eat any more of our branded stock or I’d brand his backside. He’ll be packed and gone tomorrow.”

  “What was his name?” she asked, refilling cups.

  “Crowley, Jasper Crowley. Said he was buying the place.”

  “Maybe we need to be there at daybreak, like the Texas Rangers did?” Chet asked.

  “Half-asleep, you ain’t got half the wits to put up a fight,” Cole agreed. “It damn sure worked down on the border for the Force.”

  “We can be there then,” Reg said with a laugh. “Guys, we’ve got help this time.”

  “We’ve had a few others tried to set roots here,” Lucie said. “They finally went on to California.”

  The next morning when they rode into the yard, dawn was a soft flannel glow over their shoulders. They came in from three sides with their rifles balanced on their horns. A rooster crowed at the set of dark buildings and pens.

  Chet fired his gun in the air and the shot woke up hogs, dogs, and a cow. “Jasper Crowley, this is Chet Byrnes. Get up and get out here. Any show of a weapon and you’re dead. Hear me?”

  “Yeah, I hear, whoever you are.” He struggled to get his last galluses up and sleepy-eyed, plus barefooted, stood on the porch and eyed the posse. “What are you boys up to?”

  “This land is Byrnes’s land. You’re trespassing. I want you and yours out of here in twenty-four hours. If this place is burned or damaged, or the well soured, we will be on your trail and hang you. Keep moving at least west of Hackberry. We have no qualms about hanging you, either—remember that.”

  “I savvy. I’ll be gone.”

  “For your life and safety, I suggest you do just as I’ve instructed. We’re through here for the day, boys. Let’s ride.”

  Reg booted his big horse in close. “I’m still learning, Uncle Chet. I’d never have guessed anyone would do that to a place—damage it.”

  “They will. Don’t ever cut them any slack.”