Ambush Valley (6 page)

“Good, I have to go apologize to a lady who I ran out on.”

“She's the one who sent us. Her man told us all about your getting them,” JD laughed. “Hampt, my uncle can find some wonderful women. Let me tell you about them some time,” JD said as they mounted up.

“Mrs. Stephenson sure isn't bad looking,” Hampt said. “No. No.”

Chet smiled. He'd known some nice womenfolk in his life, but his luck to hold on to them wasn't that great. Lord it would be good to get back to the ranch—sometime.

He might rest for a week.

Later in the day at the road fork to Preskit, he parted with the two men and told them he'd be on home in twenty-four hours. They both laughed and teased him. He was still laughing when he reached Marge's place.

When he dropped wearily off his horse, she burst out the door with “Thank God you're all right.”

He swept off his hat and shook his head. “I'm fine, Marge.”

Nearly in tears, she hugged him. He must have forgotten, she was damn near as tall as he was. Her hair smelled like flowers and her wet eyes looked so sad, he kissed her. Whether it all was real or put on, it sure sounded and looked sincere to him. He tried not to compare her with others, but Marge was dramatic. His ex, Kathren, was as straightforward as a man. Both had hearts of gold, but they damn sure were worlds apart.

“Come in. Come in. Have you had any food? Are you all right? I mean did they wound you?”

At the front door he held up his hands. “Whoa, I'm fine. A little saddle weary but fine.”

“We have food. If you can eat?”

“Of course I can eat.” He put his arm on her shoulders so they'd be close. He could see she liked that—good.

“Monica, he's back nearly unscathed and hungry.”

The sweet Hispanic woman stuck her head out. “For what?”

“Why food of course—” Then Marge blushed and buried her face on his shoulder. “That sounds so bad.”

“No, it was funny.” Then he turned to the other woman. “Food for now.”

They shared a quick smile and managed to part long enough to sit side by side at the table.

“Do you want a drink?”

He shook his head and tossed the hat he'd carried in the corner.

“Oh, I'll get it.”

“No, sit down. It won't rot over there. Do you want to talk about it?”

“They brought back four bodies. The funeral for my men is tomorrow. They put those other two in the pauper's graveyard night before last. Sheriff Sims has applied for wanted rewards on them for you. I have forgotten their names.”

“Señora?”
Raphael came to the front door and called to her. “He is here. No?”

“Put his horse up please. No, come in please, Raphael.”

Chet stood up and nodded to him.

“Those other
hombres
—”

He shook his head. “They won't steal any more horses or kill anyone else.”

The short Mexican nodded. “
Gracias, amigo
, I am glad you are all right.”

“Is it all right that he puts your horse up?” Her reserve was up like she'd overstepped the boundary and wanted back in.

He nodded to her and thanked him. He'd damn sure cut off his own possible retreat from her by doing that. Maybe he was too tired, maybe lots of things, but he felt comfortable in her company—a new situation. Maybe his guard was down. Never-mind. Whatever came of their evening he felt sure something was going to happen—for the good.

After the food, she wound up the bright sounding music box and they waltzed in the dining room to the music. It wasn't as good as fiddles playing it, but he liked it and holding her in his arms was like watching soft waves on the shore of a lake. They kept rolling in.

Monica had done the dishes and told them good night. But the dance went on and on and on. The big clock rang the midnight bell and they were kissy face in the dim candlelight.

The chimes made them stop.

“We are both grown people.” She paused. “I have been married twice, unfortunately, so I am not some teenage girl.” Another pause. “We are grown-ups and I won't tell anyone if we—”

“I won't either.”

“Good, then let's go to bed.”

“Fine.” He kissed her and then they blew out the candles. He hoped she wasn't disappointed when she closed the bedroom door behind them.

 

 

He woke about dawn. Carefully he came apart from her, slipped out of the bed and began to dress.

“I know you must run away. But I am pleased we had such a wonderful evening, Chet.” In the dim light she held the sheet up to cover herself. “I hope I did not scare you off with my boldness.”

He put his knees on the bed, leaned over and sipped on her lips. “You are an angel. I even hate to leave, but I must get back to business.”

“You will be at the dance Saturday night?”

“Right now I plan to be there.”

She smiled. “Save the last dance for me?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

He tiptoed downstairs and was headed for the back door, when he discovered there was still light in the kitchen.

“
Señor
, stop, I have coffee, pancakes, and oatmeal made for you special.”

“Well,” he drawled. “I guess secrets ain't secrets anymore.”

“I won't tell if you don't.” Armed with a coffeepot she poured two cups.

Then she looked toward the upstairs. “I know you made her happy, now you will make me happy eating my food.”

He set his hat on an empty chair and took a place at her table.

“Tell me about Monica.” He picked up a spoon for his oatmeal and looked over at the woman's pretty brown eyes.

“I was born in Sonora and my family came up the Santa Cruz River to farm for a man at the Tubac Mission when I was a little girl. I learned how to read and write at the church school.

“When I was fifteen I married a man twice my age who was a vaquero. His name was Paco Realas. We had some children, two, but they died in an epidemic. He left me after that, sick in his sadness. I wandered around and finally came to Preskit. I met the
señora
one day and she asked me what I did. I told her I cleaned people's houses. She said, ‘I will try you, because my best friend who did that has left me.' So I am here.”

He nodded. “Thanks for the breakfast.” He stood astraddle the chair ready to leave.

“Do me one favor.”

“What is that?” he asked after finishing his last sip of coffee.

“Help Raphael get the foreman's job. You know him, he is a good man. I can help him if numbers get too large or if he needs to write letters. I know he is a Mexican, but he works hard.”

“If they ask me, I will tell them what a good man I think he is.”

She smiled relieved. “Today is the funeral.”

“I know but I must get back to my own people. They just got to the ranch and I was gone.”

“
Vaya con Dios
,” she said.

Raphael led his saddle horse over to the backyard gate.

“You spoil me.”

“I wish I could've pulled the rope on those bastards. How is the woman I gave the deer to?”

“I took her another. She is doing fine. They won't ever come back and haunt you.”

The man saluted him. He mounted and returned the salute before he rode off for home. Sounded strange to say the ranch was home. It would never be the same as the–C on Yellow Hammer Creek, but it was his new place to sleep. He glanced upstairs on her house. She wore a fluffy housedress and waved from inside the window. He returned it. Their escapade of the night before was damn sure no secret and he wanted to laugh—on how hard they'd tried to make it one.

 

 

First person he saw when he rode up to his ranch headquarters was his sister Susie. He hitched the horse and she grabbed his arm. “It's about time you got back here. The boys said you were all right, but I am glad to have you here.”

“What's broken down?” He clapped her hand on his arm as they went in the house. Tom's wife, Millie, smiled at him with a broom in her hand. Then his Aunt Louise, at the head of the stairs with her hair wrapped in a towel, said, “This Arizona dust is not one bit better than Texas.”

May had joined them and he said softly, “Louise's forgot there was any dirt in Louisiana where she came from.” Millie and May really laughed.

“Don't make fun of my home state. It is a grand place to live.”

“I don't see any alligators hanging around here,” he said and followed Susie in the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

“Well we've only heard half the story,” Louise said from the doorway.

“I trailed the other two to a place called Rye over in Gila County. Then I took the man's horses back and came home.”

“They in jail over there?”

“I guess they call them pine boxes.”

She closed her eyes. “I'm sorry. I wasn't picking on you, Chet. I recall my own redemption on the Pedernales River. You damn sure are a brave man not to change the subject, but when do we get to approve or disapprove of this Marge woman we've been hearing about?”

“Saturday night at the Camp Verde dance.”

“Good enough. You know we have to pass on her before you throw her in this barrel of fish of a big house.”

“Yes ma'am.”

Louise left their company shaking her head.

May quietly spoke to Millie. “She's on her best behavior.”

The four of them laughed.

“What is the country like over there?” Susie asked.

“Very much wilderness. Junipers, cactus, and wild critters. I saw a real black bear and big mountain lion tracks. Some pine trees in the real high country. There aren't many folks over there.”

“Where did those men come from?” Susie asked. “Did you learn?”

“One said someplace in Texas. Another Fort Worth. One of the gang had bought cattle off the small ranchers in that country. They had no permanent base over there. They were strangers in the small town of Rye.”

“Where is it?” May asked.

“Across the wild mountains east of here.” Millie said. “The country that the Apaches used to hide in from General Crook a few years ago.”

“Did you see any Apaches?”

He shook his head. “No. And that gang is gone. The shame is the good men they killed and bad things they did in their wake.” He sipped some more of the good coffee. “Is there anything bad here?”

“No. We need Millie's house completed. The mechanics are doing all they can. The men will need a bunkhouse before fall. They're living in tents.”

He nodded. “I'll go see who I can hire in Preskit. There must be some men need that kinda work.”

“We understand that a timber crew quit up on the rim.” Millie said. “They all went to Tombstone. The mines paid more money for timbering than we do.”

“Are we out of loggers, too?”

Millie shook her head. “I just heard that rumor. But we sure aren't getting the lumber we need.”

He scowled at the situation. “When Tom gets back I'll go talk to them. We surely need to push this building deal some more.”

“Millie says we need to buy apples in the next month and dry them for winter. There are some grapes down in Hayden's Mill and we need to dry some grapes for raisins.”

“We can send JD in a wagon. Find out when and where we need to go.”

“And blackberries are ripe up on the rim country. Can we go pick them?”

He laughed. “You and the bears?”

“I can run them off,” Susie said.

“Talk to someone who's done picking at the dance. I can spare a hand or two to go along with you. That's a vast country up there, too. I brought those criminals back from up there last year. You'd sure need a guide.”

“Good. We will make a plan,” Susie said.

He closed his eyes and shook his head. “All I need is three more wives. I feel like the Mormon head man.”

“Brigham Young?”

“Yes. I appreciate all of you. We will make this a great ranch here in Yavapai County.”

“And Mrs. Stephenson?” Susie asked.

“After the dance Saturday night, I imagine she'll have you invited for supper. Is that all I need to worry about?” He looked around for his answer.

Susie hugged his head to hers. “You are excused, little boy.”

“Good. Millie, don't join them. They are mean to me.”

He rose and went to check on things. In the kitchen he confronted his cook and helper. “How you two making it, Hoot?”

Hoot's helper was pealing potatoes. “Fine, sir.”

“Those women want my job?” Hoot looked mad.

Chet shook his head. “They want us to have supplies is all. They need to do things too.”

“Me and this boy can clear out if you say so.”

“Things ain't going fast enough is all. You're the cook. Get off your high horse. Women are a part of us.”

He noticed Tom had ridden in and went to see him at the tack building.

“Good to see you alive.”

“It was a good option. The females are upset about our construction progress. And I guess I'll have to decide who will run the kitchen. What about the timber deal?”

“Several of the lumberjacks went to Tombstone. They pay more money.”

“What can we do?”

“Find more timber men.” Tom took his saddle off his horse and carried it in the shed.

“Arizona isn't an easy place to get folks to come work for you without trains to get them here.”