Ambush Valley (26 page)

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Authors: Dusty Richards

BOOK: Ambush Valley
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“They'll get it all done before fall.”
Thunder roared in the distance. A summer shower could sweep up or down the valley. Anyone could use the moisture. He left the old man to his cooking and went to the house.
Susie was working in the kitchen.
“Marge around?”
“Upstairs cleaning up. What do you know?”
“She tell you about the latest deal?”
“Yes, she did. Said you, Hampt, and the Times boy went after them.”
“He's not a boy, he's very serious. I bet he's older than you are.”
“You must like him.”
“He's a nice serious young man. Have you ever met him?”
“Oh, I danced a time or two with him.”
“Did you get a bad impression?”
“Frankly, I thought he was an awful stiff shirt.”
“Maybe you acted bored.”
“I'd say he was kinda, you know, awed by me.”
“Might have been. You and Tom still speaking?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Good.”
“Any word from JD?”
“I think Reg told us all about his problems.”
“I can't understand that. He saved her. I don't think she's entirely grateful for him.”
“JD will have to figure it out.”
“I think it's his pride keeping him there now.”
“Oh.” Chet blinked at her.
“What do you think then?”
“You may be right. I sure don't want him hurt, but it isn't a happy deal for him now.”
She frowned and shook her head. “Some people never know when they're well off.”
“I agree. But I am.”
“Better go check on you own wife.”
“Yes, mother.”
She threatened to slap him but it was all in fun. He laughed halfway up the stairs.
 
 
They went early and the rest followed. Marge found some rancher wives and Chet talked to some of the men he knew. Tom was going to speak to the men individually that he met with at the meeting that Chet missed on his honeymoon concerning the Hartleys' threatened actions.
“How are those Kansas Herefords doing?” one man asked.
“Tom says good. We've had some good rain and the grass is doing all right.”
“How many bulls you going to have to sell?” another man asked.
“We'll need some of them ourselves. Maybe two dozen of them.”
“You got lucky.”
“I didn't steal them. But he won't sell any more except as bulls.”
“We've been hearing you're moving up on top.” He tossed his head northward.
“My family bought a ranch site up there. There are no facilities yet and we are starting from scratch. My nephew Reg is up there lining things up. The deal has been closed. It belongs to us.”
“How're you going to stock it?”
“Good question. I'm working on that.”
“Were those two you brought in for Sims very tough?”
“No, they were dumb criminals. And cruel ones.”
“How many does that make you delivered to Sims?”
“I haven't counted them.” Chet wondered where they'd go with this.
“Too damn many.”
“Boys, they're all in jail. That means they can't steal or murder us. Let's move on.”
“Why's the Hartleys hiring all these cowboys?”
A man sitting on a box and whittling on a juniper stick spat and said, “They're going to gather up some of our stock and move them, with theirs, then bunch them on one range. That's their plan.”
“Where?”
“I heard the head of the Verde and that country.”
Chet shook his head. “They tried to set up at Perkins a month ago. That's deeded land. I ran them off. They will have to drive them up on the north rim and come back down west of there.”
“They'd lose lots of cattle doing that.”
“I don't care. They won't go in over us.”
Heads nodded in agreement.
“You may have a war.” One sharp-eyed man behind a snowy mustache looked hard at Chet for his answer.
“No, they won't have a chance.”
The man bobbed his hat brim at him. “I'll bring my gun and help you.”
“Thanks, I'd accept your help.”
“I will too,” came more voices.
Several more offered to back him and he raised his hands. “I am going to pray it doesn't come to this. But the Quarter Circle Z is not going to let them go in that way. Thanks.”
They broke up and Leif came through them. “Is your sister here? I couldn't find your camp.”
“She's here. We're eating at the main potluck.”
He looked relieved. “Thanks.” Then he half ran off. Chet recalled being that flustered by women in his time. Thank God, he had Marge. Whew.
 
 
The meal went well. He and Marge sat on a bench at the wall. He fielded many questions about his arrests. Several wanted him to commit if a draft was held for him to run for sheriff. He told them he was busy building his ranches and didn't know if he could give them the job they wanted.
“You know things won't get better in this country. New folks moving in and those on the run from the law figure that Arizona is a ripe place for them. This ain't going to get better, it will get worse, and we need effective law enforcement. Sims thinks you can put up wanted posters and collect them up. There's hundreds of them, but you and those others who helped you have run them down, before they committed another bloody crime.”
“We got lucky.”
“No, you're damn tough. That's what we need.”
“I don't think he's convinced.” Marge said to save him. “But I am sure he is considering it.”
The older man centered his look on her. “You can help us.”
She smiled. “I'll try.”
The music started and he saw JD and Kay arrived in time to fill their plates. Of course, there was lots of food left. He and Marge slipped off on the floor into a waltz. He always felt good when dancing with her, and had escaped for a short while from the ones who wanted to draft him. The fiddle music filled his ears and the slight perfume she wore touched his nose. Time to count his blessings. Arizona Territory would someday be a great place, when the rough edges were planed off it.
“Are you concerned about not hearing from Reg?”
“He's a big boy and there aren't much ways to talk at a distance. I figure he's finding himself.”
“Have you spoken to JD yet?”
“If he needs me he knows where I am. According to Reg, she rejected what I offered. Told him they'd make it. I was going to buy them some bulls and we sent them some saddle horses, since his are all older.”
“Strange, isn't it? I have known her for years, and I can't explain all that must be going on.”
“I'm more concerned about JD. But nothing I can do, obviously. I only stirred up a stink.”
“What can you do?”
“We can talk about it later.” People had come back to join them.
Tom and Millie were there and came by to visit. She wore a new blue dress the three women had sewn for her, and the outfit really flattered her. Susie was over with Tom and his family group. He'd not seen Leif but figured he must be there. Poor boy had a bad case on her and he was losing ground fast in Chet's book.
“We're ready,” Tom said when they were about alone.
“Good. I think we will shock them.”
Tom nodded.
The evening went smooth. No fights among the drunks, and when it winded down, they loaded their wagons to go home or retired to their camps.
Marge reached over and squeezed his leg. “You have fun this evening?”
“I always do dancing with you. Guess I'm concerned how this cattle drive will turn out. But it's best that we end it now. It sure won't get any better in time, huh?”
“I realized you were occupied. The time has come.”
He leaned over into her shoulder. “I thought so, too.”
Sunday, Marge went with the women and two young boys to the church in town. Chet and Tom along with Hampt sat at the big dining table to make their plans.
“There are close to a hundred fifty T B branded cows plus calves scattered across our ranges. And several on this land.”
“Fifty? Would that be close,” Hampt asked, “in this end?”
Tom agreed. “I think so. But I've seen some new ones that have drifted upstream.”
“We have an enclosure at Perkins where we can hold those cattle and it has enough feed for a week or so.”
“Good, but I want them on the road to Mayer as quick as we can.”
Tom nodded. “Yes, part of the shock will be for them to look up and see their cattle coming home.”
“Does this move have any legal restrictions?” Tom asked.
Chet shook his head. “Their cattle are on our private land. We are returning them to their owners.”
Hampt laughed. “I'd love to see the look on their faces when them cows come home.”
“So would I,” Chet said.
In the predawn light, Tom explained at the cook shack what happened next. Most of them smirking over the idea as their horses were saddled. The team was hooked to Hoot's chuck wagon, and in a short time things began to roll.
The hands around the ranch rode in three directions and the trap gates were open to bring them down.
Chet went over the books upstairs and Marge was busy with the girls baking or doing something. By noon Tom and his bunch brought in several T B branded cows with calves to the holding ground. He swung by the house. Chet came down to talk to him.
“There's more than I thought there were, but we should have them in here by evening and can go help Hampt in the morning on the west side.”
“Sounds smooth enough.”
“Most have calves and the cows won't bust off if their calves can't follow. We've done well. Must be fifty cows in this bunch. We saw some of their yearlings but stayed with the cattle we had.”
“I'll go help this evening. The girls have dinner fixed—go ring a bell.”
“I will. Hope Hampt and them had as good a morning.”
The girls had fixed chopped beef and gravy over rice and three kinds of pies. The crew, some whom were more like carpenters than cowboys, had got a big kick out of the drive. Lots of teasing about how one or the other about fell off their horses turning back an ornery cow.
Marge smiled at him. “Don't you fall off.”
“I might. The yearlings might be harder. They are dumb anyway.”
He saddled one of the roan horses. He tied two lariats on his saddle and rode out. The T B yearlings stayed a lot to themselves up in the junipers, so the first sweep brought most down in the open grasslands after playing merry-go-round with some of them. One threw its tail over its back and lit out.
Time to go to work. He took the lariat on the right side and fed out a good size loop because this was a pure longhorn. His pony narrowed the gap between them. He stood up in the stirrups and began to swing the loop over his head and the first toss landed on the steer's back. He remade the loop on the fly. Tossed it over half his head and the stub horns, then he spurred the roan past him and threw the rope over the steer's back. Then he turned left with a hard wrap on the horn and the steer collided on the end, and the force flipped him over on his back.
Chet rode up slow. The steer was fine and getting to his feet groggy like, and Chet rode in and flipped the rope off his head. “Now get back with the rest.”
The shocked steer went off to join them but a lot slower than he left. Chet came past a carpenter on horseback who pushed him in with the others. “I'm all right herding but I'll leave that roping to you.”
They both laughed.
As the bunch grew they made lots of dust and Tom came though it standing up at a trot. “I think we got most all of them. If you and two boys can take them to the pasture, three of us will make a big swing to check for any more.”
Chet knew that left him four carpenters in the saddle, but the yearlings were mostly settled. “We can make it.”
Tom and his bunch left and they drove the T B yearlings off the hills for the pasture gate.
With sixty or so young stuff soon locked inside, they closed the gate. The carpenters dismounted, holding their backs in both hands and threatening to walk back to the headquarters.
“Not me,” Wayne said. “Them other hands ever find out we did that they'd razz us till we're gray headed.”
“You're right,” another said, and got back on.
“You cowboys can call it a day,” Chet said. “I'm off to find Tom and help them get the last ones.”
“You ain't leaving without us. Those women folks of yours would tell the boys before their shirt tail hits their asses, how we chickened out.”
So an amused Chet and his crew rode northwest to find them. The men with Tom had about twenty more, some cows that had hid out. Everyone fell in, pleased.
“Too smooth was all,” Tom said. The real test probably would be in the rougher country in the west.
Chet nodded at Tom. “Tomorrow we'll see who can stay in the saddle.”
“Victor's taking them up fresh horses this afternoon. I figure they've got a lot bigger workout than we did.”
“This was slick,” Chet told the crew. “Driving them up over Mingus Mountain might challenge us. I once owned a big roan steer who could have led them anywhere.”
“What happened to him?”
“I sold him when I came back one year and had lost three good young men on the drive.”

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