Chaparral Range War (9781101619049)

by Richards, Dusty

  “Good, we must run,” she said and motioned for Guthrey to drive on. And they left him in the dust.

  “He’ll do a great job. He took care of things while we made arrangements and had Dad buried.”

  The tears in her eyes from what that recollection brought on he saw and read. She was weary of all this business and still choked up over her father’s recent murder. And Dan’s condition added to her concerns. Lots of wrongs didn’t make a right moment for her.

  SIX

  THEY REACHED SODA Springs, the Crook County seat, in late afternoon. Parked in front, Guthrey handed Cally the reins. After adjusting his gun belt, he reset his hat on his head, and his boot heels soon hit the wooden floor. No one was at the jail. The cell keys had been thrown on the desk, and Guthrey looked around the office and jail cells. Nothing. The sheriff’s office and jail cells were dark and empty. He lit a lamp to search the interior, unlocked a cell with the keys from the desktop, and went back to get his man. He jerked the prisoner out of the wagon, hauled him into the office, untied him, and slammed him in the jail. Then he went out, locking the door behind him, leaving the protesting raider in the cell.

  “What about me and my arm?”

  “You can stay here till hell freezes over. The sheriff will be here in a few days.” He went back outside, got in the wagon, and circled the team, listening to Cally’s directions to the doctor’s office.

  Grateful he could see that someone was inside the former house turned office, he jumped down and ran up on the porch. A woman with graying hair came to the door.

  “Is Doc here?” Guthrey asked, not knowing the physician’s name.

  She turned back. “Doc, a man is here. He sounds serious.”

  A tall man wearing a white shirt came in the room. “Yes?”

  Guthrey took him out to the wagon. Doc nodded to Cally on the seat.

  “Dan Bridges was in a horse wreck yesterday. I think he broke his leg, maybe more.”

  Doc looked over Dan where he was lying on a pallet in the wagon. “You have anyone to help bring him inside?”

  “Not really. His sister is all.”

  “Go get Black Jim, Kathryn,” the doctor said to his wife, who’d joined them. “He’ll help us get the patient inside.”

  “I’ll do that right now.” She pulled on the shawl in her hands and nodded to Guthrey as she went by him. “He’s a very powerful man who helps us in cases like this.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Cally was pacing back and forth beside the wagon. After Guthrey told her that the doctor’s wife had gone for help, he saw her perk up.

  “What will Killion do when he finds a man in his jail and that you have his keys?”

  “Where does that judge you know live?”

  “Not far from here.”

  “When we get Dan inside for Doc to examine, we’ll take the wagon over and talk to the judge. If he accepts our story, Killion can’t do a thing but hold him for trial.”

  “Okay.”

  He hoped he’d settled her down some.

  Jim was a big man and Guthrey noticed that his hands were huge when Doc introduced him and Guthrey shook the man’s calloused paw.

  “Oh, you help me gets him back here, Mr. Guthrey. Then I’s can carry him inside. Why, he’s just a boy.”

  Guthrey climbed in and sat Dan up with a struggle. The boy was mumbling, still drunk. Soon they had him in Jim’s arms and he was packing Dan like he was a half-grown kid. Cally came along behind the man in the huge pair of overalls who was bearing her brother. Dan was placed on a table in the office and Doc thanked the big man. Guthrey paid him a silver dollar and Jim looked at it like it was too much.

  “Stay here,” Guthrey said to him. “Doc will maybe need more help. We’ll be back. We need to go see a judge.”

  Cally looked with concern at her half-awake brother and squeezed his hand when they started to leave.

  “We’ll be right back,” she said and hurried out with Guthrey.

  At a house on the side of the mountain, Judge Steve Collier answered their knock on his door. “Yes?”

  “Your Honor, my name is California Bridges.”

  “Yes, yes, I know you, young lady. What can I do for you?”

  “My brother had a horse wreck yesterday. Mr. Guthrey here found him and was bringing him back when three men attacked them. They were shooting at the two of them as they raced to the ranch house. Guthrey took our shotgun and shot at one, his horse fell, and Guthrey got him. The other two rode off.” She paused. “No one was at the jail when we got here. . . .”

  “I locked him in the jail,” Guthrey said.

  “The sheriff has a man in town. You can go wake him.”

  Guthrey shook his head. “I came to town to talk to Sheriff Killion yesterday. I found his deputy drunk over in Rosa’s. He started a fight with me. I finished it.”

  “I wondered, when she said your name, if you were that person who beat him up.”

  “I give myself up and plead guilty. What’s my fine?”

  “Why, I guess it would be ten dollars for disturbing the peace and insulting an officer of the law. Why?”

  “Here’s your ten dollars,” Guthrey said, handing him the money. “Now, we want that man in jail tried for attempted murder and terroristic threatening, of her and the rest of us.”

  Collier laughed, flipping the gold coin in his palm. “I know this makes you an unwanted man in the eyes of the law. Who is the man that you arrested?”

  “He told me his name, but I think that’s a lie too.”

  Collier looked at her. “You didn’t know him, Miss Bridges?”

  “No, but what Guthrey is telling you is the truth.”

  “I believe him.”

  “The man broke his arm falling off his horse while shooting at us.”

  “You tell that to Doc?” Collier asked.

  “No, but we’ll tell him when we go back to check on Dan,” she said.

  “I’ll go find Dawes and handle this arrest business. The man you brought in will be held for trial. And I’ll tell Dawes and Killion you pleaded guilty and paid your fine. I’m sure they’ll be disappointed, but that’s not my worry. What did you used to do, Guthrey?”

  “Captained a company of Rangers in Texas.”

  “I knew you had either military or law enforcement experience. Thanks. I can’t believe we have raiders besides those loose damn Apaches. You two don’t have any more suspects besides this man you captured?”

  “We didn’t know those others who escaped,” she said.

  Behind the judge’s back, Guthrey nodded his head at her that she’d done right. “We need to get back to see about Dan,” Cally said.

  The judge shook Guthrey’s hand and bade Cally a good evening.

  “Oh,” Guthrey said, handing him the key ring. “You may need this.”

  Collier took it with a laugh. “Good night.”

  Guthrey drove the buckboard in silence until Cally spoke up. “Why not tell him about Whitmore?”

  “Might sound like we were mere gossips. I doubt he’d believe anything about a big rancher. We’re going to have to prove that he’s behind all this. That will be hard.”

  “I see what you mean.”

  He put his arm around her to squeeze her shoulder. “The calf branding, and these raiders, eventually can be dumped on Whitmore’s front porch.”

  Reined up at Doc’s office, Guthrey helped Cally down from the wagon and then hitched the horses.

  Inside they found Doc washing his hands at a pitcher pump.

  “How is he?” Cally asked.

  “I’m worried about his hip. Do you think the horse rolled on him?” Doc asked Guthrey.

  “Yes, he told me it did.”

  The physician
shook his head. “He may have hip trouble. I can’t see inside him, but he may have some pelvis damage in there. I can set his leg, but if his pelvis is damaged it could make him a cripple for life. He’ll have to stay here for some time and let things heal. You can stay here tonight, if you like. I have him on laudanum so he’ll sleep. Rest is best for his problems.”

  “Thanks,” Cally said, looking at Guthrey.

  “I can take a blanket, if you have one, and sleep on the porch.”

  “I’ll find you one. Miss Bridges, come with me. I have a spare bedroom upstairs,” Doc’s wife said quietly.

  Cally thanked her and then nodded to Guthrey.

  “He’ll be all right,” he reassured her.

  “I hope so,” she said and followed Kathryn up the staircase.

  With a wool blanket from the doctor, Guthrey went outside and made himself at home in an old stuffed chair on the porch, where he and the crickets shared the night.

  As he fell asleep, he wondered what would happen next.

  SEVEN

  A HEAVYSET MAN WITH a gray-flecked walrus mustache sat on a fat horse at the low yard fence. He wore a tailor-made green checkered suit and black silk vest, and a gold chain attached to a watch hung over it. His hat was an expensive white Boss of the Plains Stetson. Clearing his throat, the man woke Guthrey, who had still been sleeping in the chair on Doc’s porch.

  “You must be the gawdamn Texas Ranger that beat up my deputy Lamar Dawes.”

  Wide-awake in an instant, Guthrey narrowed his gaze at the man. The sheriff—no doubt. “I settled that last night with Judge Collier. Your deputy was drunk as a hooter. If he tries to arrest me again without a warrant, he may be a dead one.”

  “Listen to me. I am the law in this county. You mess with me or my men and you will be pushing up daisies.”

  “A citizen has rights. If your campaign supporters keep running off and terrorizing small ranchers you’ll be in the jail with them.”

  Killion frowned at him. “What proof do you have of that?”

  “Let’s start with a calf that belongs to an 87T cow found bearing the Whitmore brand. They still lynch rustlers in the West and his neck can be stretched as well.”

  “You better not be tied to any lynch party.”

  “No one knows the identity of lynch mobs. You know that.” Guthrey stood up and began to fold his blanket. “Did that liar I had locked up tell you that Hampton hired them to wipe us out at the 87T Ranch?”

  Still straight-backed as a top rooster, Killion acted like he’d heard nothing of the sort.

  “I’ll bet when they send him to Yuma, he’ll talk his tongue off. Then everyone will know about your partnership with Whitmore, won’t they?”

  “You’re pretty stupid. You keep alleging I’m part of some gang. You’ll never prove that.”

  “Tell me how stupid I am when a grand jury finds how involved you are with Whitmore in his range-squeeze scheme.”

  “I catch you doing anything illegal, you’ll do time yourself.” Killion turned his horse and began to ride off to control his own temper. “You keep on, Texas, and you’ll never see freedom again.”

  “You better ride on, you may miss counting a cow.”

  As he stepped inside the open door, Guthrey handed Cally the blanket.

  “You shouldn’t agitate him like that,” she said in a soft voice. “Either he or one of his men’ll try to kill you again.”

  “I want them to try to do something. Then I can get them arrested.” He looked down the hall. “How’s Dan doing this morning?”

  “I don’t know; they have him heavily sedated. What if his pelvis is broken?”

  “I’ve worried about that too. But I’m not a doctor. He took a hard fall and was rolled over on by a large horse. That is not a good thing.” To him she looked deeply struck by it all. He wanted to hug her and assure her they’d do all they could for him. If they had to, they’d take him to a larger town like Tucson or El Paso. But how would it look if he hugged her right now? Hell with it. He reached out and pulled her against him.

  “We’ll do whatever we have to do. There’s someone somewhere can straighten him out.”

  In his arms, Cally put her forehead against his chest. “Oh, Guthrey, I’m lost. I’m sorry.”

  “Listen, my mother called me Phil. Why don’t you start calling me that?”

  She looked up at him. “I’ll call you Phil. Thanks.”

  “Good. I just don’t want to ruin your reputation. I find myself impulsive around you. I know hugging you might not be proper, but I knew you needed some shoring up.”

  She squeezed him tight. “I’m glad that you did.”

  They separated at the sound of someone coming down the stairs. It was the doctor.

  “Did I hear Sheriff Killion shouting at you out there?” Doc asked.

  “Yes, sir. He was out there threatening me to quit bucking Whitmore, I guess.”

  The balding physician shook his head in a disgusted manner. “He’s not much of a sheriff.”

  With a nod, Guthrey quickly agreed. “Do you think the boy’s hip is broken?”

  “I can’t be sure, but I’ll treat him as though it is just to be certain.”

  “Then he has to stay here for some time?”

  “Yes. Definitely. He doesn’t need to be shaken apart, and a ride home in a buckboard would do that.”

  Guthrey turned to Cally. “Do you have any money?”

  “Some.”

  “Here.” He reached into his pocket and gave her three ten-dollar gold pieces. “Don’t protest. You need to stay here. I’ll go back to the ranch. Me and that old man can see about your cattle. I’ll come back and check on you two in a week.”

  “But—”

  Waving his hands at her, he put down her protests. “No buts, I’m heading back to the ranch. You stay here. In a week we can see how he’s doing.”

  “Phil?” She pulled him down by his sleeve and kissed his cheek. The site burned like a brand. She whispered, “Thanks. You two be careful out there.”

  “I bet we know how. Will I need anything to cook for the two of us?’

  “Maybe some flour. Do you make biscuits?”

  “Not as good as you do. I’ll get some flour on the way back. Listen for what they do about that shooter. And I’ll see you in a week and you can tell me what’s going on.”

  “Oh, please be careful.” The worry in her eyes knifed him.

  Hell with it. He took a deep breath and kissed her hard on the lips, then turned on his heels to go get Lobo saddled and head back to the ranch. As he passed, he said, “Thanks, Doc,” over his shoulder.

  EIGHT

  THE SIGHT OF the Bridges Ranch in late afternoon brought a little relief to the soreness in Guthrey’s aching back muscles. Part of his back problem came from loading and unloading Dan into and out of the wagon, but he could stand all that and would soon forget it if the boy turned out to be all right.

  He saw Noble McCoy come out of the house, back his butt to the wall, and roll a cigarette to wait for Guthrey. When he had dismounted Lobo, Guthrey began to strip out the latigos and called out to him, “Everything all right, Mr. McCoy?”

  “Where’s Dan and Cally?”

  “Doc said Dan needed to stay bedfast for a while. I made Cally stay there to look after him. You got anything that you need me to do, Mr. McCoy?”

  “Hell, my name’s Noble. I ain’t no mister.”

  “That’s fine. Just call me Captain or Guthrey.” He shook the man’s hard, calloused hand.

  “All right, Cap’n. You and me need to keep an eye on the stock, huh?”

  “We need to find that calf that’s got Whitmore’s brand on it and sucking one of the kids’ cows.”

  “Holy jiminy, did they do that?”<
br />
  “That was what Dan roped the day he had the wreck. His reata broke in the process of his horse falling down and then rolling on him. I caught the calf and got the short length of rope off him so he didn’t hang up. Then I brought Dan to the house and three of Whitmore’s riders tried to cut us off. I got one, took him to Soda Springs. The other two rode off.”

  “What did you do with him in Soda Springs?”

  “I locked him in the jail. Then I spoke to Judge Collier before Killion got back into town. The judge said they’d hold him until his trial for attempted murder and terroristic threatening.”

  Noble nodded as if satisfied about the deal. “I heard tell the judge is a tough ole buzzard. He ain’t a territory man either. He’s a federal judge. They never could agree on judgeships in the legislature, so they got all of them from the federal system.”

  “He isn’t that old. He sounded fair enough to me.”

  “I was going to wrangle up some supper for myself when I heard you coming. Two minds are powerful smarter than one. What are we going to eat?”

  “We can cut off some ham over in the smokehouse. Fire up Cally’s range, fry the ham, make some biscuits, and open a Mason jar of something to have with it.

  “By jingoes, you are a lot smarter than I am. I was going to boil some pintos till they’d mash and make me some real gas.”

  Guthrey laughed. “We may have to eat some of that later, but right now I have the plan.”

  “God bless you for that, Cap’n.”

  “I’ll start a fire in the stove. Can you put that horse up for me and fetch some water? We’ll be eating before sundown if we hurry.”

  “I been batching so long by myself, I don’t have any imagination left. I’m going.” He gathered up the water pails and went to do his chores.

  Guthrey watched him go out the door in his cripple gait. How old was Noble? he wondered. Past seventy? Maybe he’d simply lived a tough life, but Guthrey knew from his experience with his own father: Don’t dare tell him he’s too old. He might whip your ass for even implying it.