Chaparral Range War (9781101619049) Page 19
He hugged and kissed her some more. “Three to four days and I’ll be back. Now buck up. We are going to have fun in this world. You and me, we can whip anyone.”
“I will try to be brighter.”
“Be yourself.”
“I will.”
* * *
THERE WAS LITTLE sign of the day before’s shower when Guthrey rode away long before the sky lightened the next morning. Tucson was forty miles away on a hot, dusty road and no shortcuts. He used Lobo again and by evening that day he had him in a stable rubbed down and eating grain.
After a Mexican woman on Tucson Street fixed him some spicy beef wrapped in a flour tortilla for his supper, he took a bed in the Congress Hotel. At dawn, he was up, he had a street-side breakfast, and then he went looking for a butcher to sell his steers to. After several tries, he met a burly man named Michaels with a small slaughterhouse at the south edge of town and explained his business. He had forty half longhorn–shorthorn cross steers, fat and ready for the butcher. They weighted close to nine hundred pounds apiece.
The man nodded. “I would like them better than those straight longhorns I get all the time. But I can’t hold half that many at my ranch. Usually with good beef I can slaughter and sell two a day. Maybe three if they’re fat. That means, say, fifteen a week.”
“It is a two, three day drive in here. Is there any pasture I can rent while you work through them?”
“Maybe we can find such a place today. I really want those cattle, if they’re like you say.”
“No problem, I know cattle. These are good ones.”
They hurried out of his office, caught a ride across the shallow Santa Cruz River, and went to see a man that Michaels called Gar. The man’s property was under new steel barbed wire fencing strung on stout posts. Many blacksmith shops were making this wire and it worked, once experience with it taught cattle to stay behind it.
Gar sat in an old stuffed chair on the porch of his jacal and greeted them, rising to shake their hands. After Michaels introduced Guthrey, he went on to explain that they needed a pasture to hold forty head for not more than four weeks.
Gar considered the matter and said, “I’d take forty dollars.”
“How about thirty?” Guthrey asked.
“All right, thirty dollars. When will they be here?”
“Inside of a week,” Michaels said, looking at Guthrey for his approval.
“There’s plenty of grass in there for them to eat,” Gar assured them.
From viewing it, Guthrey was sure there was. Michaels nodded and they left.
“If those steers are as good as I said they were, how much can you pay a pound?”
“Twelve cents a pound on the hoof.” They kept walking.
“I think you are the most honest man I have met in the beef business,” Guthrey said. They shook hands again, then they hailed down a man driving a buckboard for a lift across the river.
Seated on the tailgate, Michaels asked Guthrey what he was going to do next.
“Go buy a dress for my wedding in June.”
The big man looked over at him. “You’re getting married?”
They both slipped to the ground and thanked the man for their dry crossing.
“I thought it was about time.”
Michaels laughed. “I guess it is.”
The beef deal completed, Guthrey walked to the business district. He found a nicely dressed Mexican woman coming back from shopping with her baskets full. He tipped his hat to stop her and asked her in Spanish where the best dress store in town was.
“What do you need to buy?” she asked, looking him over critically.
“A wedding dress for my bride.”
“Hmm,” she snuffed and made a face. “The Paris Shop is expensive but very good. I would have liked them to have done mine. They are very good.”
“But high priced, huh?”
“Sí, but Louise is just five doors down. They are very good but—” She dropped to a whisper and he leaned over. “They will dicker with you.”
She leaned back and looked pleased at him.
“Just what I needed to know. I am very grateful for your generous help.”
“You are most welcome. She must really trust you to order her dress.”
He agreed and thanked her again.
First place he found was the Paris Shop. A stiff-backed woman in her thirties met him when the small bell rang as the door closed.
“May I help you, sir?”
“I need a wedding dress for my bride.”
“Oh, is she here?” The woman tried to see if she was outside in a buggy.
“No, but I have her measurements.”
“Well—I guess we could fill that.”
“Do you have some dresses to choose from?”
“Yes, will you have a chair? I will have the ladies bring you some dresses to examine.”
He pushed his hat back on his head. “Ma’am, bring me three or four and tell me the price on each one and we can close this deal.”
“Yes, sir.”
Three ladies brought out dresses. He couldn’t see Cally in any of them. But the fifth dress looked more like her. The girl held it up and he studied it.
“That dress is priced at sixty dollars,” the saleswoman said.
“How about forty-five?” he asked.
She frowned at him. “What did you say?”
“I offered you forty-five dollars for that dress made to fit my bride.”
“The price is sixty dollars, sir.”
“I’ve been in here about twenty minutes. Not another customer has come in. I offered you forty-five dollars for a dress you asked me sixty dollars for.”
She squared her shoulders and said, “The price is sixty dollars.”
“I bet your competition will take my money.”
She folded her hands together in front of her and looked at him very hard. “Sir, this is not an auction. We are the finest dress shop in this city. We sell that dress for sixty dollars every day.”
“I see you don’t want to sell me a dress. If I want a sixty-dollar one, I’ll be back. Thanks.” He tipped his hat to her.
In the second dress shop, Louise’s, he found a dark-eyed lady who was older than the woman at the last shop.
“I am looking to buy my future bride’s dress today. I have every measurement you need. Will you show me the dresses you have?”
“Certainly.” She clapped her hands and two young Mexican girls appeared. “This Mr.—ah?”
“Guthrey.”
“Mr. Guthrey would like us to model some of our wedding dresses.” She showed him to a chair and sat down beside him. As the girls went in back, she offered him a glass of champagne.
“No, I simply need a nice dress.”
“Certainly.”
“How does this dress look?” she asked as one of the girls modeled a dress with a long train. That wasn’t Cally’s style.
He shook his head.
Dress number four was his choice, and he turned to ask her the price.
“Sixty dollars.”
“Would you take forty-five dollars for it?”
“Would you tell anyone what you paid for it?”
“No, ma’am. You’ve got my word on it.”
“You have her measurements?”
He handed them to her.
After she looked at them, she nodded. “I can have this ready in two days.”
“I’m bringing cattle back in a few days, oh, maybe a week. I’ll pick it up then.”
She smiled. “It will be ready, Mr. Guthrey. And thank you again for shopping with us.”
He tipped his hat to her. More grateful than anything else to finally have his dress buying ordeal over, he c
ould only hope that Cally liked the one he’d chosen. On his way to the livery he passed the first dress store and went on by, whistling. They didn’t look like they’d had any business since he left them.
He checked Lobo out of the livery and rode out of Tucson before noontime. The journey would be a long ride home, but he had his bedroll if the way was too far. He’d sold up to forty head of big steers at a good price. That should solve Cally’s money worries for the ranch for the time being. Over four thousand dollars would help anyone’s needs. He short loped the stout horse. The afternoon was not real hot and he made good time. When the night cooled, he loped him more until by nine he came up the road to the 87T Ranch. A light went on in the house when he passed under the bar, and Cally stood in the doorway in her nightgown.
“I knew you were coming home. I could feel you coming.” She ran to hug him. They kissed and embraced for a long while, savoring each other.
“How did you do?” she asked, out of breath and close to trembling in his arms.
“I sold forty steers at twelve cents a pound. Had to rent some fenced, irrigated pasture so we could take them all in one trip.”
“What did that cost?”
“Thirty dollars, which is cheaper than hiring some more hands for another trip.”
“Good. What about my dress?”
“Doggone, I knew I forgot something—no, no, it will be ready when we go back to Tucson in three days.”
“Oh, you worried me to death. Will all of us go there?”
“No, I’m hiring two men to ride with you, me, and the cattle, and we’ll leave our two men here to watch the place. You can be the camp cook for the drive. I’m sure Noble can find me two good cowboys, cost us thirty bucks and food for them.”
She quickly agreed. “I think it’s a good idea to leave Dan and Noble here to watch things.”
“Yes. No telling what Whitmore’s bunch might try to do with no one here. Any other word?”
“No, but a few folks stopped by and signed the petition for you. Said they wanted to thank you for doing this for them.”
He hugged her neck. “Girl, after we get these cattle delivered, we’re going to swoop this country and get that petition drive over.”
“I’m ready.”
“I hope you going along don’t ruin—”
She frowned at him. “Stop worrying about my reputation. I don’t give a damn about it. Let’s see, this is the fourteenth of May. In three weeks I’ll be your wife and they can all lump it.”
He stopped and gently hugged her. “Cally, someday I’ll tell you about some parts of my life that you need to know. They aren’t bad things I did. They were situations that happened, and they may explain why I am like I am.”
“Don’t change one bit for me. I like you as you are.”
“Good, ’cause you ain’t getting much more, girl.”
“Yes, I am.” She drove a soft fist into his iron-muscled gut.
After eating some of her apple-raisin pie, he kissed her and left the house. In his own bedroll at last, he decided it would be nice to have someone to share his bed. In no time he fell asleep, stiff from all his hours in the saddle.
* * *
IN THE MORNING after breakfast, Noble rode out to find two day workers to help Guthrey drive the steers to Tucson. Dan promised he could locate the other five steers they needed and have them in with the bunch they had gathered. He set out to drive them in.
Guthrey wanted the shoes reset on Lobo. So everyone was busy. Cally watered her garden and came by between changing sets while he worked on new shoes for Lobo. He was disappointed when he found the old ones were worn too thin to reset. That meant he would need to heat up the coal-fired forge and reshape new ones.
He looked up from shaping the first shoe during Cally’s second stopover. “If you want to, tell me about the money situation for you and Dan on this place, since I’ll soon be family.”
She blushed. “Heck, you are now. We owe the bank five hundred dollars that Dad borrowed to fix the water development on the ranch before—well, you know that story. Then we owe two hundred for our food, other things, and salt for the cows, all things we got at the store in town. Plus your wages.”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
“I feel we do. You’ve done lots of work here since you came. I’d never have made it without you after Dan’s wreck.”
Finished with forming the shoe, Guthrey rested it in on the anvil and came over to her, removing his gloves. “That’s all going to be family, ain’t it?”
She shrugged. “I guess so.”
“We’ll have to pay Noble. He’s been a lifesaver.”
“Oh, I know that,” she said. “But we will be all right for quite a while if we sell these steers like you said.”
“Good. I simply wondered. We may need to find a place of our own someday.”
“Leave here?” She blinked her lashes at him.
“I said someday.”
She tackled him around the waist. “Someday I’m going to wrestle you to the ground.”
“Someday,” he said, lifting her up to kiss her.
When she left him to go back to watering the garden, he went back to work on hoof number one. His back ached by midafternoon, but Lobo was shod all around and ready for the drive. He had two more horses to shoe so that he would have adequately shod horses to drive the small herd to Tucson. Ranch horses being shod was not so important if they were rotated. But on any drive a man needed sure-footed, ready mounts, and Guthrey was pleased to have Lobo done with. He’d need to get another horse shod before dinner.
“When can we leave?” Cally’s words broke his concentration on the bay horse’s hoof and what he needed to trim. He released the leg easy, let the horse lower his limb, straightened, and walked over to the corral fence to take a break.
“When do you want to leave?” He put his hand on the top rail.
“Now.”
“My, my. I have that horse to shoe and one more. We’ll get there. I’m not magic.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “Oh, I guess I want to rush it all.”
“Don’t worry. It will all happen.”
She raised her face to kiss him. “I have no shame, Phil Guthrey. I can hardly wait to be your wife.”
“It is hard, isn’t it? The waiting. You get your watering done?”
“Oh, yes. I’ll be fine. I’m going to make a couple of pies. I’m just getting anxious.”
“So am I.” He laughed when she held her hem up and went to the house.
He settled in using the rasp to shape the horse’s hooves. Noble came in about then and dismounted. “I got your two riders. Julio Contras and Jim Phelps. Jim’s got two tough herd dogs. Contras can throw a rope a hundred feet, and they’ll be glad to go for fifteen bucks apiece.”
“You did good. Give me a hand shaping the shoes for this horse so I can get done.”
“You look a little stiff.”
“I don’t do this every day. I already did Lobo.”
Noble laughed. “I can shape some shoes, but my old back won’t hold up a horse hoof to shoe him.”
“I can do that. You hear anything else in town?”
“You must be stepping on their toes. I didn’t hear much but some griping about how many outlaws there were in the county jail.”
His saddle and pads off his horse, Noble put his rig on its horn so the fleece under the seat could dry. Then he took the horse to the gate and turned him out. Noble was no stranger to shoeing. When he joined Guthrey, he went to examining a new shoe.
“What else did you hear today?”
“It ain’t what I heard, it’s what I didn’t. Bartender in the Texas Saloon I know said he hasn’t heard one word in two weeks. That tells me they have sealed all talk.”
“No. But he’ll send me word if he learns anything. That bunch that works for Whitmore have run off all his local customers by coming in and threatening them. Really hurting his business. No way he can get them to stop, and folks aren’t coming back. I can’t blame them.”
“I hope we know what they’ll try next. He’s moved on families and of course most of them won’t fight back. But if we have an advantage on any trick they try against us, it would help.”
“Best shot we have so far.”
“I’m not complaining, we just need to have our ear to the ground.”
“I’ll do what I can. Dan’s coming in.”
Guthrey was anxious to know about his success. “I hope he found us the rest of the steers we need.”
“I saw a bunch up on the north end last week.”
“We may have to all ride up there and drive some of them down.”
Guthrey still had two more hooves to shoe. Noble’s hammering to shape the shoes to fit was helping him get done. Dan dismounted and limped over to the corral.
“Quit worrying, guys, I found some more steers and drove them in with the big bunch.”
“Hurrah for you,” Guthrey said. That was the best news he could hope to hear at this point.
“That ain’t bad at all.” Noble clapped his hands. “I was sure dreading riding up there to the Tucker Flats to bring some of them back here.”
“These won’t be hard to drive either. They were no problem for me to round up.”
“Did you get the extra steers?” Cally asked, entering the barn.
“Yeah, they’re down here now.”
“Good.”
“Don’t ask,” Guthrey said, shaking his head at her. “We can head for Tucson day after tomorrow.”
Later that day they loaded Cally’s tent and camping gear in the buckboard. Guthrey planned to get some horse grain on the way. They also loaded firewood in case there was none where they camped. Three small kegs of drinking water were loaded too, and she fussed about what food she should take.
Guthrey decided he’d gone to Abilene or Newton, Kansas, with two thousand head easier than this, but made no mention out loud. The big steers all looked fine the next morning when he rode through them. Michaels wouldn’t complain about them. How many more did they have to sell? Better buy that boy a tally book and make him keep track of the herd. No way to do business without a good count on your own stock. His father must have done that.