Chaparral Range War (9781101619049) Page 14

  FOURTEEN

  PETE AND COMPANY arrived the next evening. Estevan and Enrico had come with him. All three rode in on burros, which they must have had to beat a thousand times on the butt to keep up with Noble and his pack train. They could not have gotten any more “stuff” on the ranch horses. Noble’d borrowed four more packsaddles to move them.

  The “boys” swept the ground with their sombreros when Guthrey introduced Cally to them. Pete, too, was impressed with her. They’d never met before. She served a spicy pork dish and the Mexicans thought they were at home. Guthrey was pleased. He had learned about the good, fresh-faced men from Mexico who came to work at any job they could find—very different from the hard-faced, lazy hombres that caused trouble and were really banditos.

  The old man looked tired, but Noble never let on how weary he might be. They all slept out under the stars, and they were up when Guthrey went to milk the cow in the predawn. Enrico asked to milk the cow and Guthrey let him.

  A short while after breakfast, they loaded up again, and Noble took Pete and the two Mexicans to the canyon. In the buckboard, Guthrey and Cally headed for Soda Springs to see about Dan. It was a cooler morning. The spring daytime heat had been warming more with each passing day. The northern breath was not cold, simply milder than the days before. The team even acted spirited. Lobo was saddled and tied on the back in case Guthrey needed a horse while they were in town. They made good time and were at Doc’s a little past noon. Guthrey bought their lunch in the small café and they went back across the street to see about Dan.

  They found him sitting at a table eating some of Kathryn’s soup. She greeted them and made a fuss. “He’s walking,” Kathryn announced, like she had done the whole thing.

  Dan was pleased and acted ready to go home. “How are things?”

  “Fine, waiting for you to get back so Noble and I can sleep a few days,” Guthrey told him. On the ride over, Cally and Guthrey had decided not to say much about the rock outcropping and hiring Pete. The less that was out about that, the better, until they knew more. Gossip would get around fast enough.

  Cally spoke to Kathryn about the doctor’s bill they owed and she said the doctor would mail them one. Guthrey could tell the matter bothered Cally, but they would do something about it later. He excused himself and went over to the county offices to check on things. He slipped into the telegraph office and Tommy frowned at him. “You back with more prisoners?” he asked in a whisper.

  Guthrey shook his head. “They all still here?”

  “Yeah, and the sheriff has to have guards around the clock to watch and feed them. He really cussed you out over that the other day in the hall.”

  “Too bad. Just thought I’d check on them.”

  Tommy grinned. “There’s a U.S. marshal here now too. He’s checking on things. His name’s Dobson.”

  “Good. Maybe he can really get them on the ball. I have to get back.”

  Tommy told him to wait; he had a message to take down but had news for him. Guthrey remained standing at the high counter. When Tommy finished his message, Guthrey came back over to him. “I heard that yesterday someone wanted the paperwork for a petition to remove Killion from office. They were asking the land office for one. The office worker told them only the county clerk could issue one. He’s hardly ever here. But that might be a put off to stall them. Killion ain’t been in since they were here to get the petition.”

  “I didn’t know about it. Thanks.”

  “Hey, would you run for sheriff if they get Killion out?”

  “We’ll see.”

  “The guys who came after it were two businessmen. I didn’t know them, but they were serious about it.”

  “I’ll try to find out. Thanks.” Guthrey headed for the front doorway and crossed the street without being spotted by anyone in the jail.

  “Can you drive?” he asked Dan, who was on the seat.

  “I hope so.”

  “I can ride the horse just fine.”

  “Are those men still in jail?” Cally asked.

  “Oh, yes.” Guthrey looked around to be certain they were alone. “Two businessmen were here yesterday and tried to find the county clerk. They wanted to start a petition to remove Killion from office. No one knows where the clerk is at, they were told.”

  “Bet they get one,” Cally said and winked at him.

  “I will bet on that too.” On Lobo, Guthrey short loped out ahead of the buckboard and they left Soda Springs.

  They returned to the ranch late, but Noble had beans cooking on the stove and water ready for coffee when Cally came to relieve him.

  Dan had lots of stories to tell about his stay at the doc’s. There was a Mexican woman who delivered a blond-headed baby there, and when she first saw it, she screamed in Spanish that some ghost must have got her pregnant. They laughed at another story about a man with an infected foot who had gone to Tucson for treatment and the doctor there said he’d have to cut his foot off. Doc flat told him next time to come to him sooner and he might have saved it. But in this case Doc drained it and the foot healed after all. The man told him he’d never go to that bad doctor in Tucson again.

  “Oh, I met a girl there. She’s very pretty and she told me I could come and visit her.”

  “What is her name?” Cally asked.

  “Cometa Valdez.”

  “She’s Spanish?”

  “Yes.”

  “She’s Catholic?” Cally asked.

  “I guess. Why does that matter?”

  “You’d have to change your religion if you married her.”

  “Who cares? She is a lovely young lady.”

  “I don’t doubt that she is. I’m only concerned that you’ve been a Methodist all your life. Now you’re going to become a Catholic?”

  “If I have to.”

  She nodded, then went for her cookie jar to share some of her oatmeal-raisin cookies to celebrate Dan’s homecoming. Guthrey munched on one of the two that he took. Maybe he should tell her he was Catholic. No, no, only spoofing. But he wasn’t so devoted to church as to worry about which one he sat in. Surely God was in all of them. Cally was damn sure upset at the very thought of her brother hitching up with a Catholic though.

  Guthrey stayed when the others left, and dried dishes. “You were a little hard on Dan about that girl, weren’t you?”

  “I don’t want him to make a mistake he might regret all his life.” She plunged her hands down in the soapy water for more dishes.

  He switched the towel in his hands and laid a palm on her back. Bent over close to her ear, he whispered, “He noticed a nice woman. He counts on you a lot. Think about it. He was sharing his most private business and you threw a wet blanket on the small flame inside of him.”

  She straightened and blinked at him. “You’re a tough man, Guthrey. I just didn’t—”

  “Want to let him ruin his life.” He kissed away her anger and then held her in his arms. “Tomorrow sit down and talk like equals with him.”

  She buried her face in his chest. “I will. I will, I promise.”

  “You may in the future have to share him with a Senora Bridges. But that’s his choice, not yours.”

  “Boy, you can really pin me down.”

  “No, I love you and there are times in all our lives we need to step back from our own thoughts and look out for the other person.”

  “Love—me?”

  He nodded. “That ain’t any big surprise to you.”

  “But you’ve never said it before.”

  “Well, I said it now and I meant it.” Her closeness was eating him up inside, then she squeezed him and buried her face against his chest. “I am so glad you came and stayed here despite my sharp tongue that first day. I’d never have made it through all this without you.”

 
When the dishes were completed, he kissed her softly and went to find his bedroll. He’d let the cat out of the bag. Damn, oh damn, if she’d been twenty-five years old he’d have no qualms about their match. But she was well short of that. He rolled over on his side in his bedding and went to sleep, still troubled.

  FIFTEEN

  DAN TOLD THEM to go on to the dance. He was tired even though he’d done little since he came home. Cally was concerned about him, but Guthrey told her he’d be fine. Strength came back slower than one imagined.

  They arrived at the schoolhouse midafternoon. They set up the shade and tied the team on the picket line. Cally wanted to stay all night and then attend church in the morning before they went home. That suited Guthrey and so they soon were set up.

  A man in his thirties came around, stood back like he had something on his mind. When the sidewall tent was up, Guthrey walked over and spoke to him.

  “Mr. Guthrey, my name’s Reagan Worley and I wanted to talk to you.”

  They shook hands.

  “What can I do for you?” Guthrey asked.

  “I wanted to talk to you about Whitmore and his men,” the man drawled. “Some of his men been coming by when I wasn’t home and being plain disrespectful to my wife.”

  “What have they said to her?”

  “Aw, things like they wanted to make love to her. She’s been embarrassed and halfway scared of them. The men were drunk both times, she said. I ain’t no gun hand, but I’d sure kill them if I was.”

  “Worley, do you know their names?” Guthrey’s ire began rising.

  “One was Jerry Keyes, another they called Soda, and the other guy she didn’t know at all. I know Keyes and Soda because I used to work for Whitmore, but I don’t ride for him anymore. Some folks might think she deserved that kinda thing. She worked in a house in Tombstone up till a few years ago. But I swear she’s a good woman and she says she never was with any of those men. We’ve been living a Christian life since we got married and moved up here. The Bible says the Lord forgives you for your past, but some folks can’t accept that. I’m about to go crazy over this and she sure is too.”

  “You try to speak to the sheriff about them?”

  “No, sir. Besides, he ain’t never in his office over there in the county seat.”

  “Where is your place?”

  “It’s downstream on the river past the crossing. I rent it and we make a garden, sell some produce, and I do day work. Have been since I quit Whitmore.”

  “Hold your peace. We may shortly straighten this whole mess out.”

  “I sure appreciate your listening to me. I’ll get back home now.”

  “Next dance you bring her. You two belong here with us.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “I do. You bring her and hold your head high. If they come back, you tell me. I can make them believers, if I have to.”

  “You’ve made my day. Thanks.” Worley shook Guthrey’s hand and smiled. Then he went for his horse and swung aboard to ride away.

  “What was wrong with him?” Cally asked.

  “He and his wife are being run over by some of Whitmore’s hands.”

  “Why?”

  “Long story. His wife used to work in Tombstone in a house. They’ve became Christians and I suspect those cowboys got drunk. They insulted her and he’s not a gunman. I told him that I’d help him if they came back.”

  She frowned. “Pretty bold of them.”

  “Oh, hell, they were fortified with whiskey. But it still goes along with their terrorizing folks. There are no lawmen in this county to protect the citizens. You can do all these kinds of things and still not expect to be punished.”

  She took his arm. “We better go inside and join the rest. I haven’t seen Mr. McCall or the other man yet who wanted to talk to you.”

  “His name is Brown. I figure they’ll be here. Let’s go, Miss Bridges.”

  “Oh, Phil, I am so proud you’re here with me.”

  “No problem. I wish I knew more about the petition and if they got it.”

  “You sound ready to sign it.”

  “For whatever good that would do.”

  A rancher stopped him with an apology. “I know you’re here to enjoy the evening, but folks say you may be the next sheriff. I want to help you. Here’s a hundred dollars to get you started.”

  Guthrey shook his head. “I can’t accept that.”

  “Why not? You will need money to campaign.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m short your name. Mine’s Guthrey.”

  “Fred Phillips.” They shook hands.

  “Fred, if and when I am a candidate, I’ll accept your contribution.”

  The man nodded his head. “Folks said you were honest. We need a real sheriff. How can we get this going?”

  “There are men coming here tonight who are supposed to bring the information with them.”

  “Ma’am, take good care of him.” Fred patted Cally’s shoulder.

  “Oh, I will.”

  With Cally on his arm, Guthrey went up the porch steps and inside the schoolhouse. Plenty of greeters shook his hand and then hers. He felt the move of the wave he hoped was building among the citizens. People like Fred, anxious to be on Guthrey’s wagon and back him with real money.

  The grace was said and attendees lined up in the food line. The rich smell of the good food assailed Guthrey’s nose. He looked at the assemblage: people with children in line, older couples, single men, widows in clusters. These were the voting citizens of this county. The Mexican people did not vote, except in areas predominately Hispanic. There was talk of giving Arizona women the right to vote, but it had not yet materialized.

  That issue brought on all kinds of talk about proposed laws being considered to end prostitution and gambling and to bring on prohibition. When they had counties like Crook, where they didn’t have the basics of law in place enough to even protect the citizens, why worry about the rest?

  Guthrey and Cally ate supper with some other couples on the benches. Careful to watch his own movements toward her, he was enjoying his meal. And he was doing good, keeping things formal—until she fed him a bite off her fork of some dish she liked. They’d blown their cover again, he felt certain.

  “Guthrey, you and Cally have such an easy way toward each other,” Jane Briscoe said. “Can we expect to hear wedding bells soon?”

  He smiled. “Do you have any wedding proposals on hand, Cally?”

  “Who’d want me?” she said, shrugged, and sipped some tea. “Besides, I’m too busy gardening, canning, and feeding my crew. Now that Dan’s home, I have three men to feed.”

  “How is he doing?” Jane asked, and Guthrey was glad she’d moved on to another subject.

  “He tires easy,” Callie said. “They say his recovery may be slow. We’re lucky he’s alive, I guess.”

  “Can he walk?”

  “Oh, yes,” Cally said quickly. “He’s not a cripple.”

  “That’s good. My uncle could hardly walk after he had his horse wreck.”

  Guthrey was quiet. A musician struck up a fiddle to test it. The band was about to start playing and he could hardly wait to escape Jane’s questions. This was all between him and Cally, and had nothing to do with Jane.

  When the musicians started the waltz, Guthrey swept Cally up, excused them to their companions, and guided her across the floor. Time to move away from gossiping people and have Cally’s company to himself.

  “She obviously got your goat,” Cally teased.

  “I guess. I hate digging people who cross-examine us like our relationship is illegal or immoral.”

  Holding her in his arms, he swung Cally around and she chuckled at him. “I’ll remember your response when I ask you something about us.”

&n
bsp; He looked down at her face. “You can ask me anything you want.”

  “Who was the woman who made you so resistant to accepting another woman?”

  He mentally searched his past as they went across the dance floor. Who could she be talking about? The notion bothered him. He wanted to say no one, but his conscience dug him deep to be honest with her. The dance ended and he saw Carl Brown enter the schoolhouse in his brown suit and hand his hat to the lady hanging them on the wall for those who desired to check their hats.

  Out of habit, Guthrey continued to wear his weathered one and removed it when he was introduced to women.

  “He’s here,” Cally said as they waited for the next dance.

  “I saw him. We’ll have plenty of time to talk.” The music stepped up the tempo with the next song, and they began to polka in a whirling path around the room. Guthrey loved Cally’s smile and the excitement in her green eyes when they polkaed. He’d done that as a Texas teenager with girls his own age.

  In those days his mind had been centered on courting Rebecca Carr. He’d almost forgotten her. The prettiest blond girl in the county. In the eyes of every young man who lived in Parker County, she was the big prize. He’d thought he had an inside track with her. Although he was just another teenage boy, son of a poor Texas rancher, he rode as a Ranger. That drew him some respect as part of the semi-military organization that was the thin line of defense against the Comanche’s vicious attacks and threat to the thin population west of Fort Worth at the time.

  The discovery of a Comanche war party in the area sent all the Rangers on horseback to warn everyone they could reach. He was riding a well-spent horse down the Pease River road when he saw two saddled horses hitched in the mesquites alongside of the road. Who was there?

  He reined in his huffing horse, which was dripping in sweat and had the breast strap on his chest frosted in foam. Pressed to warn everyone, he spurred his horse into the brush to find whoever was there. The branches swept Guthrey’s bull-hide chaps as he drove through them to find the horse owners, his large Walker Colt in his fist, cocked and ready.