Brothers in Blood Page 6

  “I think he’s having a hard time inside.”

  “I wish he was better grounded, but I don’t know what to tell you. Anything here I need to look at?”

  “No. Marge and I did the whole thing. I’ll miss doing the books up at the Windmill.”

  “I’ll miss your attention to details.”

  “I guess this baby and moving up there will change it all, won’t it?”

  “Not how much I appreciate you.”

  She chuckled. “I can still recall riding down and telling you they’d stolen all our horses. That kicked it off—. Oh, I hear a horse coming in hard.” She looked out the window, then turned back to him.

  “It’s Deputy Roamer.”

  Chet stepped to the front door and opened it. “What’s wrong?”

  Roamer swept off his wide brimmed hat and shook his head. “You got time to talk? I tried to catch you before you left this morning, but got around too slow. You guessed it. I have a problem.”

  “Come in. Susie will fix us some lunch and we can talk.” He closed the door behind the deputy. “How are you?”

  “Aw, fine.

  “Hello, Susie. I guess Sarge is over at Gallup?” Roamer asked.

  “No, he should be back shortly.”

  “Tell him hello for me.”

  “I will, and I can fix lunch while you two talk.”

  “Thanks.”

  Chet motioned. “Have a chair.”

  Roamer settled into an overstuffed chair near the fireplace. Elbows on knees, he whirled his hat on his hand. “I understand you had a successful trip.”

  “We did. Monica said you came by, but left no word. I thought you were all right or I’d of checked with you yesterday.”

  He kept whirling the hat on his hand. “I guess I’m going to need a job.”

  “What does Simms have in mind?”

  “He says he has too many deputies. Budget cuts, he calls it.”

  “When do you want to start working?”

  “I guess in two weeks. What do you have for me to do?”

  “To start, you can help up here. You need to learn all you can from Tom and then we’ll find you a place.”

  “I want to be a hand.”

  “What else are you doing?”

  “Oh, some breed stole a horse and beat up a squaw off the reservation, so I have a warrant for his arrest.”

  “Where do you think he’s at?”

  “Somewhere hiding out on the Verde, they say. Cold as it is, he may be holed up anywhere.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Jack Kay.”

  “Maybe the four of us could find him. Jesus is a great tracker and Cole and I can scatter out and search for him. Tell me something. You really like your deputy job. Maybe if I went and talked to Simms about it that would help you.”

  “I wouldn’t mind, but you and him don’t agree on much.”

  “He might listen. Where’s this Kay liable to be?”

  “I heard there’s a camp of breeds somewhere east of here.”

  “I’ve not heard about it. The crew will be in soon for lunch and you can ask Tom about it.”

  “Lunch is ready,” Susie announced.

  They rose and went into the kitchen filled with good smells. She’d fixed fried ham and German potatoes, plus her fresh-made sourdough bread.

  After pouring coffee, she took a place with them. “Is this Jack Kay dangerous?”

  “Who knows? These people are not really Indians or whites and they don’t fit well anywhere. Most were raised as Indians, so they tend to live among them. But they don’t get government food allotments, so they have to steal. But he beat up a woman, typical of the Indians, but it ain’t allowed on the reservation, either. Then he took her horse to get away. That’s breaking the law, too.”

  “Chet helped the Indians.” She looked at him. “Didn’t you?”

  “They were starving back then and had a bad agent. We fed them cull bulls and lame horses to get them by and the agent even threatened us for doing that. General Crook had him removed and they must be doing fine now.”

  “These breeds will be a problem until they find a place like a reservation.”

  Chet nodded in agreement.

  “How’s your wife?” Susie asked.

  “She’s fine,” said Roamer. “Have you met her?”

  “Once at Marge’s. Tell her hello for me.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  “When we finish here, we can go down and talk to my men at the kitchen,” said Chet.

  “They told you about Hoot?” Susie asked.

  “Yes, I’ll see him.”

  “Good.”

  After thanking her, they headed to the cowboys’ kitchen. Hoot sat in his rocker by the stove under a fancy trader blanket. He looked very weak and his eyes were drawn.

  The old man looked up. “I ain’t worth much to you, boss man. I’m not able to do much these days.”

  “We’re just glad you can visit with us. You’ve done your part for this outfit. Stop worrying. We just want you to be comfortable.”

  “It’s grown to be a big outfit. I’m proud I was here from the start.”

  “So are we. You need anything, ask Tom.”

  “Hell, he’s a good one, ain’t he?”

  “The best. Marge told me to tell you to keep kicking.”

  “You tell her this rocker she sent me is the best one I ever set in.”

  Chet went out to where Roamer and Tom were talking about the breed problem.

  “I haven’t heard much about that camp. But I bet if they are in that country over there, Hampt knows about them,” Tom said.

  Roamer agreed. “That’s probably right. We’ll check with him tomorrow.”

  “How are the Herefords doing?” Chet asked.

  “Great. I have three boys up there full time. And one line rider out on the western side turning any cattle back or running any strays off our range.”

  “How many of the cattle are you feeding here?”

  “About two hundred fifty mother cows. That means about a hundred of the cows are still out. We have lots of weaned stock and yearlings here, too. Cows outside are some of the wilder cows, but we try to bring them in as we can find them.”

  “You’ve made this program work well, Tom.”

  “Ryan never used to feed and we’d lose lots of stock in tough years like this one. But he was pocketing the money instead of spending it for hay.”

  “We’re doing well. I have draft horses coming, and I plan to complete the other outfit’s hay operations as well. Let me know how Hampt’s fencing operation is going. I’ll go over and look at it.”

  “We’re making the wire,” Tom said.

  “John is really turning the wire out?” Chet asked.

  “He has two helpers and they’re sending a wagon load a week over there.”

  Chet nodded in satisfaction.

  They got home late after making a search circle with Roamer. They decided to talk to Hampt the next morning to see if he knew anything about a breed camp in that area, then Roamer headed home.

  Since the crew in the bunkhouse was already in bed, Monica fixed supper for Chet and the boys. While she put together a hot meal, Cole and Jesus took care of the horses.

  Marge had coffee with them while they ate. After a good meal and some small talk, Chet’s two men promised to be ready at daylight to meet Roamer and try to locate the breed camp. Then they headed for the bunkhouse.

  After he thanked Monica for feeding them, Chet and his wife went upstairs to their bedroom.

  “Everything alright down there at the ranch?” she asked.

  “Yes, Tom has things running better than smooth.”

  “Who is this breed that Roamer is after?”

  “Jack Kay. I don’t know him, but he’s broken the law.”

  “You be careful. Those men on the run get desperate.”

  “On top of that, Simms has threatened to fire Roamer again.”

  “Oh, th
at man has lost his mind, hasn’t he?”

  “I guess. I may talk to him about it.”

  She kissed him. “Don’t lose your temper with him.”

  “I’ll try to act nice.”

  The next morning, Roamer met them and they rode over to talk to Hampt. He and his men were feeding hay, and his two stepsons were riding their horses around the herd. The boys loped over to meet them.

  “You two okay today?” Chet asked them.

  “Really riding our horses hard. Lots of herding for us to do.”

  “Well, I see you’re doing a good job gathering them up.”

  He told them to keep up the good work and rode over where the others talked with Hampt.

  Roamer reined his horse around. “He says that camp is across the river and north of your property. Let’s go see if we can find him.” He moved his horse off and Jesus and Cole followed.

  Chet lingered for a few words with Hampt. “Cattle look good,” he said.

  “If I didn’t have to run off Rankin’s cattle, it would be easier.”

  “I imagine it would be. How’s the fencing coming along?”

  “Good. We’re really moving on that.”

  “Any problems?”

  “Just doing it.” Hampt laughed. “We’re fine. Good to see you. JD doing all right?”

  “I think so. He ain’t himself yet.”

  “That can come. I promised May I’d do something for her today, or I’d go along with you.”

  “Take care of her.” Chet set out at a lope after the others, but taking time to look around at the land. This country had lots of junipers and some sagebrush about it. Everything tilted east from the ranch house to the hayfields below on the Verde. The previous owners had badly overgrazed this ranch. It would be several years recovering.

  The others were way off the mountain before he caught up with them. Before long, he spotted a trail of smoke to the north. He pointed it out and they agreed it came from a campfire across the river.

  Headed toward the smoke, they passed the fencing crew rolling out wire from a reel slipped on a smooth post. They had two wires up and were working on the third one of five. New posts set in a straight line and stays, to be placed between the posts to keep the wire in place, were on the ground. Looked good to him. It would look better when completed. He spoke briefly to the fence crew and rode on.

  They crossed the Verde at a ford where a cut in the far bank allowed them to ride up on top on the other side. The camp was spread out and little children ran for wickiups at the sight of them. Someone opened fire at them and they dismounted and returned a shot or two.

  “There’s three of them shooting at us,” Chet said. “Be careful not to shoot a woman or child.”

  When there was a break in the gunfire, they divided up, crouched low, and ran for the camp. But the shooters had taken cover in some tall junipers.

  Chet heard a baby cry, then a small teenage girl ducked coming out of her shelter. Bare-breasted despite the cold air, she carried a crying baby.

  “Is he all right?” Chet asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  “Gun shots scared him.”

  He nodded and turned to see the others approaching. “They’ve headed for some horses,” he shouted.

  Roamer joined him first, then the other two. They watched as other squaws and a few men dressed in rags, all unarmed, began to appear. All he saw told Chet these breeds were a ragged, hungry-looking bunch.

  “Who is your leader?” he asked.

  “Rump,” one woman said, and pointed out a skinny man with lots of gray hair.

  Wrapped in a thin blanket, he came forward. “I’m Rump.”

  “Do you have anything to eat here?” Chet asked, frowning at the Indian and his situation.

  “Pinion nuts.”

  “Tomorrow, one of my men will bring you a cow or old bull to eat. I will find you some frijoles and have them delivered to the river.”

  “Wait,” the man said with a pained expression on his old face. “Why do that for us?”

  “’Cause hungry babies cry in your camp. I won’t be able to sleep hearing them.”

  The man used the flat of his hand to touch his forehead sideways and send it toward him. “I thank you and your people. We can do nothing about the men that shot at you.”

  “We can, and we’ll be back tomorrow to track them down. If they’re in camp when we come, put up a white flag so we know they’re here.”

  Rump nodded his assent.

  Jesus and Cole rounded up all the crackers and jerky in their saddlebags to give to the women.

  “We can go home tonight, get some pack horses and go after those three,” said Chet.

  Roamer shook his head. “You never cease to amaze me, Chet Byrnes. You are one generous guy. It wasn’t the shooting made that baby cry. He was hungry, wasn’t he?”

  “Yes. It’ll be dark when we get home tonight, and looking for these varmints is going to take a few days. We have nothing with us and these folks need the things I promised them. We’ll set out tomorrow to find them.”

  “Like we always do.” Jesus smiled with confidence. “They can’t run far enough on their poor horses.”

  Cole rubbed the sleeves of his coat. “I only wish it was warmer.”

  Roamer laughed. “Then wear two suits of underwear, Texas.”

  They smiled, mounted up, and headed for Hampt’s.

  When May heard the story about the handful of breeds starving, she was ready to take them food right away. Hampt hugged her. “Darling, we’ll get them an old bull to eat, and frijoles, and whatever else you want them to eat. And do that first thing in the morning.”

  “Can I give them a case of canned milk?”

  Chet said, “Fine. There’s probably a dozen or so babies down there. I’m going to take them a few blankets from my place.”

  She looked at Hampt. “We have a few blankets I saved.”

  Hampt nodded at her, then looked at Chet. “I guess I’ll be in charge of them, too?”

  “Yeah, feeding them and looking out for them until we find a charity to do it.”

  It was late when they reached home, but Marge was up holding supper.

  “May wanted to feed us, but we told her you’d be up.”

  She filled coffee cups around. “I’m glad you did. I sent Monica to bed. And those poor Indians up there are starving?”

  “Bad shape.”

  “Those men shot at you?”

  “They had some old rifles they shot at us with,” Jesus said. “We were out of range.”

  “We’ll go find them and Roamer can arrest them,” Chet said.

  “I have several blankets we can send. How will these people fend for themselves?”

  “Come spring, they can plant a few acres of garden at the edge of Hampt’s irrigated ground and grow what they want. But that’s a long way off. Till then, we’ll help them get through it.”

  “Why did they camp there? Isn’t that on your land?”

  “Probably. I think they fished a lot and ate them.”

  Marge looked shaken by the Indians’ problem. “My, how many people like that could starve and no one know it.”

  They made plans to get up in a few hours and go back with packhorses to track the breeds down. Roamer thanked Marge for her offer to put him up at the house, but said he’d stay at the bunkhouse.

  Chet and his wife got ready for bed, but both still thought about the Indians’ situation.

  “I think the Methodist Church will help them. I’ll ask this Sunday,” Marge said.

  “They won’t take much. But they’re so pitiful, I was shaken. No one cared, but then, no one had any way to know their plight, either.”

  “I’ll get some folks working on it.”

  “Good. I figured you would.” He hugged her to him and kissed her. It was great to have her by his side.

  Blue cold at peach dawn, they set out on dancing fresh horses with pack animals following. The steamy
breath of men and horses almost made a cloud. They left in a long trot for Hampt’s place. When they arrived, he joined them with two of his men who said they knew where there was a crippled bull the breeds could eat.

  They rode off to drive the bull down there, and the posse crossed the river to meet with Rump. Soon, blankets were handed out, along with a hundred pound sack of frijoles, canned milk, and some ground corn meal. Chet told Rump that his men had brought the bull for them to slaughter.

  The chief stood wrapped in a newer blanket and tears ran down his wrinkled cheeks. “How we pay you?”

  “Be well. We must go.”

  When they joined Jesus, he’d found the breeds’ tracks, so they rode south. The day warmed under the sun and they trailed them close to the river. Jesus was confident the breeds’ horses weren’t very strong and they’d catch them by dark. Everyone stayed on alert. Even old worn-out guns could kill. These men probably had no food, either, and that would make them desperate.

  As they rode south, Chet smelled a fire. He made a sign for the others to spread out and they scattered.

  Cole took out up the mountainside with a rifle in his hands. His horse cat-hopped up the steep side of the slope, from where he could oversee the valley. Jesus went right, six-gun in his fist. Roamer and Chet rode straight into the opening.

  The three breeds stood and raised their arms. Pitiful looking in their ragged dirty clothes, they appeared haggard and hungry. Long stringy hair hung shoulder length and on their faces—not whiskers, like their white fathers—but lanky hair.

  Jesus gathered their guns, while Cole found their hobbled horses. Roamer handcuffed them and sat them down. Chet put an iron grill over their small fire and the others gathered axes to find better fuel. They soon had flames blazing, and Jesus cooked some food and made coffee.

  “We’re kinda overdone for capturing these three.” Roamer chuckled and shook his head.

  “Naw, we’ll feed the breeds. That may solve their stealing to survive. Those people’s living conditions still bother me.”

  “Oh, no. You’ve been generous to them. I agree those poor people back there need it. But it’s pretty well a waste of time taking these three back. The county will have to clothe them, feed them, defend them, and then imprison them.”

  “That’s the way it works. It’s called the American way.”