A Good Day To Kill Page 8

  “The Federales won’t appreciate us acting like we’re lawmen down there.”

  “Well, do I ride back and tell them we can’t do it?”

  “Cole, I can hang up this badge. We’ll leave Juan in charge. JD, Shawn, you, and I will split up, then each take a packhorse and head south to arrive there separately to get less notice.”

  “Good.” Cole drank some of his coffee. “This is lots better than the piss I’ve been drinking.”

  “That’s why Mexicans drink red wine,” Chet teased him.

  “What’s happening?” JD asked as he joined them.

  “We’re packing two horses and splitting up to meet down in Mexico and see if we can get that rancher’s wife away from those bandits. You can ride with me.”

  “I better go tell Shawn. What about Jesus?”

  “He’s renting a place at Nogales for the squatters.”

  “I know that. Is Bronc coming back today? He would be good to take, too. Jose can watch the ranch and our things.”

  Marie came on the run, having discovered Cole had ridden in.

  Chet leaned back on the bench and asked her, “Is Bronc coming home today?”

  “Si. He will be home.”

  “Good, he can go with us. We’re going to Mexico. The outlaws that have the rancher’s wife are down there. Ortega and Roamer are spotting them. We’re going to split up and join up with them down there.”

  “My brother-in-law Juan and I can handle this place,” Maria said.

  “Good. Jesus is in Nogales. When he gets back, tell him to move those squatters, but for him to be careful. I don’t know how long we’ll be down there.”

  “Si, I can do that.”

  “You ladies be careful. We have made enemies over our arrests and curbing the lawlessness.”

  Marie reassured him. “We will be fine.”

  “Good, just so nothing goes wrong. We’ll pack for tomorrow.”

  She went back to her casa, and everyone else went to work. He wrote Marge a long letter and set it out for someone to take to Tubac and post when they went for food and mail.

  Mexico could prove to be a challenge, but the two brothers knew how to get around down there. When they found the rancher’s wife, this had to be another lightning raid and a quick escape. He had no idea of the strength of the bandits, either, but maybe by the time they reached the area his men would have information about the gang and their whereabouts.

  They left before dawn, and as afternoon slipped away they faded into Mexico. The border wasn’t guarded except at the road points like Nogales and the other places where they collected fees for import or export of goods. The trail they took paralleled the Santa Cruz River, and they split up at the border. Chet and Cole went one way, Bronc, JD, and Shawn went another, to meet up later near the kidnappers’ location.

  They avoided towns and camped in the desert at night. Cole talked some about his wife, Valerie.

  “I’m sure happy I married her. She’s a great gal. You know, I worried a lot about whether she’d put up with my job and me. And she’s real careful what she spends, for some day we want a ranch of our own. These rewards we’ve been earning may help buy it one day.”

  “They could,” Chet said. “When I met her in Tombstone and sent her to Preskitt, I knew she was alright.”

  “Yes, she talks about that a lot. How she served you stew, and you didn’t know her, but went out on a limb to help anyway. That really impressed her.”

  “There are right and wrong ways in this world. You do them right, they usually end up good.”

  “You’ve picked some good ones. Your place in Texas would never have been this big, would it?”

  “In a lot of ways, I chose the right thing to do. I had money to expand there, too. but with the circumstances I was under, I couldn’t risk doing it.”

  “You saw some things here no one else saw. Buying a ranch being run by a crooked, tough foreman?” Cole shook his head as if in disbelief.

  “Yes, it was. But I saw it as a large ranch astraddle a river in Arizona. It had to be a bargain.”

  “I know the rest of that story. According to Hampt, it was a tough one to take.”

  “I look back and think it was only a page in my life. The worse page was when I started home and the stage robbers killed my nephew, Heck. I guess those kind of things drove me to become a lawman and to try to end the outlaw reign in this country. Someone had to care.”

  “That was before you married Marge. Your wife helped you through that time?” Cole reined his horse up and looked at all the tall tube parts of the Mexican cousin to the saguaros standing six feet tall. “We take the right-hand trail here.”

  Chet nodded. “Yes, and I had an intended woman in Texas, but she couldn’t leave there because of her parents’ health. But, Marge, bless her soul, got me through it and understood my problems. And she waited, too, with no promise of anything. For all she knew, I could have come back with a wife.”

  “I laughed about how she went around and paid all your bills. She was set on having you.”

  “At first, it made me mad. But the poor girl had a case on me, and with all her money and schooling she picked me.” He turned in the saddle and checked their back trail as they rose higher on the side of a small range of mountains. No rising dust, no sign of anyone on their back trail, so he turned back and shook the saddle horn. It was good to have the roan gelding under him—a great mountain horse.

  “Then you married her.” He coaxed Chet into telling more of his past, parts that happened before Cole joined the outfit.

  “Bo found this tract of land for sale on top the rim and I wanted to go see it. So, since Marge was willing to traipse around with me, I planned to ask her to go. My sister, Susie, told me Marge was unmarried and had been to a finishing school, and that she wouldn’t go.”

  Cole was laughing by then. “She would have gone?”

  “Hell, yes. She said she would, but my conscience bothered me. The stigma of folks finding out she went, regardless of how proper we were, would have been bad. So I asked her to marry me. We got married, and Sarge’s cook, Victor, went along and we found Reg’s wife, Lucie, who was our guide.”

  Cole shook his head. “You fell into a pile of shit and came out like a rose.” He went on laughing. “I only met Lucie a time or two, but she’s a swell person.”

  “Neatest lady I ever met. And she can out rope the two of us. That smile never fades and she laughs a lot. Just what Reg needed.”

  They caught up with a wood train, so Cole reined up. Several burros loaded with bundled sticks on their backs filled the entire trail through the cactus and brush. The single man in charge made the animals all get over to the side of the pathway, took off his sombrero, and bowed.

  “Gracias, mi amigo,” Chet said, and tossed a silver dollar in his sombrero.

  “Oh, patron, you are too generous. Gracias.” His words were in Spanish, and with a big smile across his brown face, he bowed again.

  Chet waved at him and then they led the packhorse past the line of already hipshot burros.

  Cole shook his head at his generosity. “That was more money than his sticks will bring him.”

  Chet agreed.

  “Tell me about Reg’s first wife.”

  “Juanita came to us to help Susie keep the big house and fix meals. She was a beautiful young woman. I was ready to leave, and an older couple wanted someone to run their ranch, take care of them, and when they died the ranch would be his. Reg married Juanita and they stayed to run that ranch.”

  “Do you think your enemies killed her?”

  “He never mentioned it. I never asked.”

  “It must have been real tough for him. I can only imagine how hard it would be on me if I lost Valerie. What was the worst part for you back there?”

  “The final blow for me was one cold Texas morning when I was checking cattle on the far south end and three of them tried to ambush me. It was in some tall cedars and I did lots of scrambling, but w
hen I left there they were buzzard bait and I was unscathed.

  “I see why you left.”

  “Exactly.” The two of them were on the rise by then and fixing to drop off into more desert, but cottonwoods lined the far valley.

  “If you don’t give them all away, next year, you’ll have a Barbarossa colt to ride,” said Cole.

  “I think Bonnie was well worth two of them. I bet JD thinks so.”

  “I think from being around him, he appreciates her a whole lot. I wouldn’t trade her for my wife, but she’s a swell person. You traded some big patron down here in Mexico a Barbarossa for her, didn’t you?”

  “Hell, we couldn’t whip him and I wasn’t certain she was even at his ranch. He sent her to us and his men came later and got the horses. It was a good swap.”

  “Reckon we can do that good down here for this woman?”

  “When I left our camp at Tubac two days ago, I had my mind set to bring her home safe and sound.”

  “Me, too,” Cole said, and they went off the hillside trail for the spread-out country below them.

  That evening, they found Roamer and Ortega’s camp at a small rancher’s place. His name was Diego Vargas, and his much younger pregnant wife, Vye, welcomed them with a smile. They put their horses in a pole corral. There was a stack of straw hay that, no doubt, Roamer had purchased to feed the Force’s animals when they all got there. Ortega mounted up and left to meet the others and bring them there.

  “How have you been?” Roamer asked Chet as they took seats on some crates for chairs under a canvas shade. He was whittling and cutting on some cedar-like wood.

  “I’ve been fine. Who are these bandits?”

  “Renaldo Montoya is the leader. He was once a Federales officer, who was busted and court-martialed on charges of illegal business. He was sent to prison, escaped, and runs his gang from up here, which is a kind of a no man’s land.”

  “Are these people in any danger for helping us?”

  “Some, but they know the risk. Diego wishes him taken down. I told him our job was to recover the woman he kidnapped and get her alive and unharmed. I know that he’d like to have Montoya eliminated—killed off.”

  “We didn’t come here to do that.”

  “He knows that, but he’s hoping Montoya gets caught in some crossfire.”

  “Where are they holding her?”

  “He has a ranch fortress in the hills. From things we learned from snitches, we’re sure she’s being held there. They have a couple of Gatling guns and a cannon or two. Several of their men were once soldiers and they have a lot of military arms and ammo,” said Roamer.

  “Single-shot rifles?”

  “Yeah, he stole them from the Army.”

  “A bucket of melted grease and a pail of sand will stop those Gatling guns.”

  Roamer frowned at him.

  “A friend of mine who was in the war served on a gun crew. He said the damn things jammed if you pulled them down dusty roads all day.”

  In disbelief, Roamer dropped his head and shook it. “I thought they were untouchable.”

  “I know we haven’t got close enough so far to dust them, but we need to think about that. Something they count on for defense of their fort that won’t work could deal them a death blow.”

  Roamer whittled some more. “When this job is over and whenever you go back to ranching, will Marshal Blevins still want this Force of yours down here?”

  “I suppose so. Why?”

  He threw his stick away, folded his jackknife, and nodded. “I’d start looking for a place down here. Told my wife that if I could get this job, we’d live down here. It ain’t as nice as Preskitt, but she agreed, and I won’t ever satisfy Simms. So if you decide to go back to ranching, I’d like your job.”

  “I’d miss having you help me at home.”

  “I know, and I’d miss you. But I have four kids, more coming, and I sure need a good job.”

  “I’ll talk to Blevins and I believe he’ll want you.”

  “Chet, you’ve been a real friend since we fought Ryan off that Verde Ranch.”

  “It’s been a two-way trail. What’s the layout for this fort?”

  “Head on, impossible. I mentioned the guns, but I think we can slip in the back way and surprise them. Grab her, I hope, and get the hell out before they get organized.”

  “We need a detailed map and it needs to be accurate.”

  “There’s a man coming tonight that can do that. His name is Fred. I don’t know enough Spanish, but Ortega can translate for us. He’s worked inside there. I have a map made of the fort and how to get in. But this guy knows the real guts of the place.” Roamer pushed his hat back on his head.

  Chet thanked him. He was on a good track.

  Later, the others arrived. JD came and shook Roamer’s and Chet’s hands.

  “Have a good trip?” Chet asked JD.

  “Hot one. No one paid us any attention that I could tell.”

  “Good, Roamer has a man coming to give us more details on the place where they’re holding her. This generale’s fort is going to be tough to take. But Ortega heard he likes young putas and frequents such places. He thinks we might be able to grab him there and get her back in exchange.”

  “Not a bad idea,” said JD.

  Ortega nodded. “There were only two privates guarding his carriage when he went into one of those places. But we were not ready yet to move on him.”

  “He goes there often?”

  “Quite often,” Ortega said. “But sometimes he has six guards. We need to catch him with fewer than that.”

  “Both of you have some great ideas. I think Vye has supper coming. She cooked two goats today, I understand.”

  “She’s good at cooking things,” Roamer said.

  His crew was all there. They needed a workable plan and to execute it swiftly. He turned his attention to her food. Vye was a great cook and they had plenty to eat. Later, the small man named Fred arrived and he drew plans of the fort for them. He pointed out the barracks where the men lived, their mess hall, the big house that Montoya lived in, the arsenal, and the horse pens. He said some men with riatas tossed on the posts could rip them down, drive the horses up the canyon behind and out into the desert, leaving Montoya’s army afoot.

  “How many men does he have?” Chet asked Ortega, and he translated it as twenty-five, and all trained soldiers.

  That was sobering for Chet. “Let’s try to catch him at the whorehouse. Then we can go to plan B.”

  He thanked the man through Ortega and paid him ten pesos. The man acted very appreciative for the money.

  “Can we check and see if he’s there this evening?” Chet asked.

  “It’s not far. We waited, knowing you were coming. Is that what we should do? Kidnap him?” Roamer looked grim. “They might try to get him back.”

  Chet shook his head. “They don’t want his corpse. They’ll know we mean business.”

  “Saddle up,” Roamer said. He shook his head. “I see lots of repercussions. Ain’t that the word?”

  “It’s a good one and we may have them. We aren’t the law here, but we have to think like outlaws.” Chet clapped him on the shoulder. All he knew was that this plan, if it worked, beat an attack on a military base.

  They rode single file and Ortega went ahead when they drew close. He came back in a short while. “He’s in there. I counted two guards at the coach. Bronc and I can take them down, then you close in. We don’t make a big ruckus, they won’t know what’s happening. There’s a back door.”

  “JD and Cole, take it. Remember, we need him alive, but bust his head if he gets tough. Alright?”

  The men were ready.

  “I’ll show you the back way,” Ortega said as he and his brother prepared to go in and take out the guards.

  In the darkness, Chet stood on his toes and tried to see the building that served as a whorehouse. No red lamp anyway. There were lights on inside and he could see the top of the coach pa
rked before it.

  “When we get in, there may be some bouncers inside the place.” Roamer stood beside him.

  “We just need those guards took out, and then take the place,” Chet said.

  Shawn laughed softly. “Be my first time in a house of ill repute, and for all the wrong reasons.”

  “You’ll get an education on this job,” Chet said. “Have eyes in the back of your head. If we get into a fight, cover our backs.”

  “I can do that, sir.”

  “Last resort, shoot the sumbitch.”

  “I will, sir.”

  “Let’s go.”

  Ortega was coming back. He waved for them. “Bronc is tying and gagging the guards. They were only boys. JD and Cole should be in back. Should we charge the front door and demand to know where he is?”

  “Go.”

  Guns in hand, they crossed the yard and Ortega hurried ahead. Nothing moved. Bronc joined them. They covered the ground to the door; Ortega tried the latch and the door opened, then he was inside. There were some screams of fright, but he told the women to be quiet. When Chet entered the parlor, only some scanty dressed young girls looked bug eyed at them.

  “Watch them,” Chet said, leaving Shawn in charge. A little red-faced, he made them stand at the wall. The other members headed down the hall, where Ortega had an older woman by the arm talking to her in Spanish, obviously demanding she take him to the room.

  With a boot, he smashed the door open, fired a shot, and ordered Montoya not to try for his gun again. The room was full of gun smoke, and Roamer moved to handcuff the buck-naked outlaw. A naked girl stood against the wall, screaming. Bronco silenced her and shoved clothes at her. In Spanish, he told her to get dressed.

  Chet told Montoya to sit on the bed. They warned him if he made any move, they’d carry him out feet first.

  The grim-faced big man had a killing look on his face. “What do you want?”

  “The woman you hold and a pass to get out of Mexico.”

  “I’ll have you all killed on an ant hill.”

  “You may not live to see sunrise, so quit your threats. We’re as tough as you, and sitting here bare-assed, you’ll be lucky if we don’t castrate you.”

  “You won’t dare.”

  “Keep talking. These men are cowboys. They can do it faster than you can blink. Now, how do we get word to your people to bring her out to us?”