Blood on the Verde River

by Dusty Richards

  They laughed.

  “The bear was not any easier,” Chet said as Susie joined them in the candle lamp light.

  “He was a big bull.”

  “Jesus and I learned to take more help next time.” He hugged her.

  “Come to the house when you finish. I will have supper for both of you.”

  “We won’t be long,” he promised her and turned to speak to Tom about things on the ranch.

  “Nothing is wrong. I think Sarge will leave tomorrow for Gallup and the December delivery. Hampt came by and got his posthole diggers that John made. He wants to see where they need to be made tougher.”

  “Hampt is serious about this fencing business.”

  Tom smiled. “And most cowboys hate them.”

  “He wants a cow-proof meadow to put hay in.”

  “Our post and rail system works well enough, but that would be a sure enough way to turn them back.”

  “Jesus and I are going to eat some food.”

  “Go ahead. We’ll handle this. You going to mount the elk head?” Tom asked.

  “I hope to. Thanks. Come on, Jesus.” They headed for the house.

  Susie had supper almost ready. The biscuits were still in the oven. “You two look bushed.”

  “We had enough work. That bull was huge and the bear no small one,” Chet pointed out.

  She grinned. “Do I get the bear rug?”

  Chet smiled. “Sure. How are you?”

  “I am fine. Sarge is going to New Mexico tomorrow. He sent me a note.”

  “Tom said Sarge was leaving then for the December delivery and that another herd will up to the Windmill by the time he gets back for the New Year drive.”

  “Time goes fast in that business, but the income will make the ranch work, too.”

  “Oh, I know. Sarge takes it very serious.”

  “What are you going to do next?” she asked.

  “I probably need to go see Reg and Lucy. I found two more cowboys who need work. I may ride up there with them next week.”

  Susie pulled the biscuits from the oven. “I might like to go see them.”

  “Think it over. It is a lot colder up there than down here.”

  She rubbed her sleeves. “I know.”

  “No word from JD?”

  “I haven’t got a letter. My sister-in-law got one, didn’t she?”

  “I suppose he sent it to her to inform all of us of his well-being.”

  “Oh, I don’t mean to sound mean about it. I love her. I was just put out he didn’t write me. I have been his aunt since he was little.”

  Chet sipped the coffee. “I can see that. But he didn’t write me, either.”

  She swept her hair back from her face. “I don’t think anything will satisfy me any more.”

  “I can tell.” He smiled at her.

  They laughed and Jesus smiled.

  After her midnight breakfast, they dropped into beds upstairs and slept with no interruptions.

  Jesus and Chet woke early to eat more and ride back home. Susie was on the porch to say good-bye. “We’ve been having some bucking out here”

  “Those new horses that Tom bought?” Chet asked.

  “Yes, they were supposed to be green broke. I don’t think those head slinging broncs were even taught anything, but they are now. Wow. I have been watching. There are some real riders in that crew.”

  “Good entertainment, huh?”

  “Oh, yes. It has been a long time since you and Reg rode out some green ones back in Texas. I thought they’d kill both of you before it was over.”

  “He was about sixteen then and he got good at riding them.”

  Chet and Jesus mounted their horses.

  “Oh, be careful both of you. You two make a nice team. Take care of him, Jesus.”

  “I will, señora.”

  They left the ranch for home with one elk hind quarter for Monica, one large elk skin, the head, cape, and antlers, and Susie’s bearskin rug to have tanned.

  When they arrived, Marge ran out to greet them, dressed warmly against the cold.

  “You sure didn’t take long to get him.” She hugged Chet’s arm as Jesus directed the others how to unload the elk.

  “Oh, we got a black bear. too,” Chet said.

  “Did you bring any of him home?”

  He pointed to the bearskin. “Only his hide and Susie wants it tanned for her house.”

  “Good. I am not a fan of bear meat.” Marge shuddered.

  “Hey, neither am I, but the cowboys will eat him and lick their lips.”

  They walked into the house.

  Marge hugged him again. “I am glad you are home. Water is heating.”

  “Wonderful.” He scrubbed his whisker stubble with his palm. “And a shave.”

  “I can do that,” She guided him into the backroom. “Anything else happen?”

  “No. Sarge left for New Mexico today. Tom has the next herd ready to drive up there to the Windmill when they get back.”

  “That is going smoothly, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, very smooth.”

  “How is Susie?” Marge asked.

  “She acts like an ant. Can’t be still.”

  “Maybe I should invite her to come here.”

  Chet shrugged. “Whatever. She is as restless as I ever saw her.”

  “Monica says it will snow again. She gets stiffer when the storms start for here.”

  “It might. I have some business in Preskitt tomorrow. You want to come along?”

  “Sure, if there isn’t a blizzard.”

  He laughed and hugged her. “I bet it won’t snow tomorrow.”

  “I won’t bet. The water may be warm enough now for you to take a bath.”

  “Good. Let’s get that over with.” He followed her out, already thinking of what business he’d find out the next day. Bo even might have the ranch deal pending.

  Marge rode with Chet in the buckboard, wrapped under blankets to stay warm. The team moved out sharply and in no time they were in town. He left her at the dress shop and she said if he was over an hour she’d be at the mercantile.

  He went on to Bo’s office and found the two men busy working on papers.

  “Any news?”

  Bo looked up. “No. It’s still in court to see who gets the ranch. I suggested in a letter to both parties that they should put you in charge of the ranch until it was settled. I have not heard back from them.”

  “Good.”

  “I heard from a man who has a gold claim at Horse Thief basin in the Crown King region. He says he has the mother lode and needs a partner with money to develop it.”

  Chet frowned. “I know nothing about mining.”

  “What if I get opinions from two experts? You know, he might actually have a mine worth developing.”

  “I want to meet face-to-face with each expert, before I advance a penny. All I heard about are failures in that business.”

  “Yes, but there are some good ones, too.”

  “Get the experts to look at it first.”

  Bo nodded. “Yes sir. We have two more homestead deeds we are authenticating in the area of the Hereford herd.”

  “Perkins?”

  “Yes, both one-sixty. And on the river according to the owners.”

  “High priced?”

  “No, ten an acre will buy one and the other we can get for seven.”

  “Buy them. We will need that private land some day.”

  That business taken care of, Bo asked, “How is the cattle sale business?”

  “Fine, if the government ever makes good on their paper.”

  “I know other federal employees are waiting. Some are discounting it to survive.”

  “I am not ready to do that—yet. The money will be available at the bank. You make the time and notify me.”

  “Great. We are looking all the time for the opportunity to get some of your money.”

  Chet shook his hand and left.

  At the bank, he tol
d Tanner about the land purchase and asked about any payment from the government.

  Tanner shook his head. No word. He thought it would be after the New Year.

  Discouraged, Chet left and went to find his wife. Enough was enough. He wanted to do something—but was not sure what that was. Oh, well, things were secure for the moment. In the store that smelled of spices, sweet grain, and yard goods, he found his wife in a crowd of women.

  Something was wrong.

  A tall, nicely-dressed woman was crying in their midst.

  Marge pulled him close and introduced him. “Betty Lou Scales, this is my husband Chet Byrnes.”

  The woman sniffled. “Nice to meet you, sir. I have heard about you. You are quite the helper around here. Many folks speak highly of you.”

  “Just another guy.” He tried to dismiss her compliments.

  “On, no. More than that. I told your wife and these others that my husband went to Utah two months ago to close a deal on his deceased parent’s place. He sent me a letter that he was coming back, but never came home. Leroy was never like that. Then I got this letter in the mail two days ago. Here you may read it.” She handed him the letter.

  Dear Mrs. Scales,

  We are holding your husband Leroy Scales for ransom. Listen, if you ever want to see him again you must send two thousand dollars in small bills concealed in a well-wrapped package to Sam Gordon, General delivery, Honey Grove, Utah.

  If you go to the law and report this letter, we will cut his throat and kill him. You have only thirty days to do this or he will die. Any attempt to rescue him and all they will get is his corpse. Here is a locket of his hair. You have thirty days to do this or he will die.

  WE MEAN BUSINESS

  Underneath, in a different handwriting, was written:

  Please, Betty Lou, do as he says. These men are killers.

  Leroy

  Chet looked up at her and Marge, then shook his head. “Where is Honey Grove?”

  “Just across the Arizona line,” Betty Lou said.

  Marge squeezed Chet’s arm. “She is so worried and stopped me to ask if you could help her. I didn’t know what to say.”

  Chet nodded. “Let’s go to Jenn’s. We can sit down and figure this out and eat lunch.”

  “Come along, Betty Lou. He’s a good figurer.”

  “I know you are so busy, Mr. Byrnes. I hated to bother you.”

  He herded them out and into the buckboard saying she was no problem. With both women loaded on the seat, he drove the team to the café, kneeling on his knees from behind the seat.

  Inside, the girls welcomed them to the establishment and Bonnie seated them at a table in the back, took their orders, and delivered coffee.

  In a low voice, Betty Lou asked Chet, “You rescued those two?”

  He nodded. “What did the sheriff say about this letter?”

  “That it was probably a hoax and they’d send him on when they didn’t get any money. Besides, it’s in Utah and he has no authority over the line to do anything. I tried not to cry, but I didn’t know what to do. Several at the store said the only answer was you. I’d never met you before. Then Margaret, I mean Marge, came in. I knew her from the fair. So I imposed on her to ask you.”

  “Where is this place, Honey Grove?”

  “A road the Mormons called the Honeymoon Trail comes down through Utah and Honey Grove. It crosses the Arizona line south of where you go over the Kaibab Mountain and down into House Rock Valley on to Lee’s Ferry.

  “There, you cross the Grand Canyon and use the ferry to cross the Colorado River. You travel with the red bluffs on one side and the Grand Canyon on your right coming down to the San Francisco Peaks. The military road leads to Camp Verde.”

  Chet nodded. “I know that about the Peaks. You come around the east side.”

  “Yes. Ten years ago when Leroy and I married and the Church sent us down here to populate this land, others went to the east side of the territory when they got to the peaks. I can draw you a map.”

  Their food arrived. Valerie set the plates down and left quickly.

  “That would be good. I can find the road. Finding these kidnappers will be a trick.”

  “What should I do? I don’t want him killed. I wouldn’t know what to do without him.”

  “Eat. We can figure this out—somehow.”

  “You all just in town today?” Jenn asked, dropping by their table.

  Chet spoke up, but not loud. “Betty Lou has a problem, but we need to keep it quiet. Her husband is being held as hostage up in Utah—for ransom. She’s been to Sims, but he can’t do anything ’cause they’re in Utah.’” Chet made quotation marks with his fingers.

  “He can’t do much, anyhow,” Jenn said.

  Chet raised his hand. “Never mind that. We’re making plans to find the kidnappers.”

  “Betty Lou, you are in good hands. If you need my help, I’ll do anything you need done. He’s such a dandy man.” Jenn turned and left them to talk with another customer.

  “You two are friends?” Betty Lou asked.

  “Yes. Jenn really helped me when I first came here looking for a ranch.”

  “I see.”

  “She really did. She found him help and all that,” Marge said.

  Betty Lou gave a slight nod. “Back to my problem. I don’t have that much money.”

  Chet had given the situation some thought. “I think you must write him letters every few days. And in each letter send him twenty or fifty dollars, like you are really scratching for money and are trying to get the banker to make you a loan. Include a plea to the kidnappers each time. Something like . . . but please don’t kill my husband.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Marge will have the money for you. Send it in wrinkled, small bills . . . maybe even a few coins.”

  Betty Lou was confused. “What will that do?”

  “It will bait this Sam guy to go to the post office.”

  “How?”

  Chet looked around the café and saw it was near empty. “He’ll be anxious to get the letters, hoping for the big money. I am a U.S. deputy marshal. The post office has to work with me. When he comes and gets the bait, I can trail him to his hideout.”

  She put her hands to her mouth. “How did you figure that out?”

  “Betty Lou, my husband can think his way out of about anything he wants to.” Marge chuckled.

  “Sounds easy, but we haven’t found him yet. He’ll get the first letter about the time I arrive, I figure. After we eat, we will go to the bank and quietly get some old money from Mr. Tanner’s office. Eat up ladies.” Chet took a hearty bite of his sandwich.

  “What else can I do? ”Betty Lou asked.

  “Don’t mention me. The kidnapper may have lookouts here. Some crooks are smart. Be sure to tell them you begged or borrowed the money you send and that you will try to get more this week.”

  “I understand. Oh, I was so sick when I left the sheriff’s office. I thought and prayed there was an answer.

  “I know there is a chance they may kill him, but at least you’re doing something. I will pay you back, I promise.”

  Chet waved a hand. “Don’t worry about that. Your husband’s life is what we want to save.”

  “How should she space the letters?” Marge asked.

  “One now, then one two days later, small amounts in them. Then three to five days later, send like fifty dollars. We should have them by then.”

  “Oh, Mr. Byres I am so—”

  “No, you need to be the woman who is crying and quietly desperate to find enough money. So if they have a lookout here, he won’t know anything but that you’re trying to raise the money.”

  Betty Lou sighed. “I never thought of that. I will be.”

  “You walk to the bank. We will already be there and you ask to see Mr. Tanner. He is good man. He won’t let anyone know any different.”

  She leaned back in the chair and breathed deeply. “Thank you, my most Heavenly Fa
ther, for all your help. Please protect my husband from the kidnappers. Amen.” She stood and said, “Thank you for the meal, Mr. Byrnes. Marge, it was nice seeing you again.” Nodding at them, she left the café and walked in the direction away from the bank . . . just in case someone was watching.

  Chet paid for their meals and escorted Marge to the bank. He gave her some instructions. “You will need to ask Roamer to keep an eye out for Betty Lou and see if the kidnappers have someone watching her.”

  “I can handle that. This is a bad time to go all the way to Utah. Don’t get caught in a blizzard.”

  “I’ll be all right. I am going to ask Cole Emerson at the ranch if he wants to go. He’s the Indian shooter. I’ll go on up to the ranch today, after I get you home. Jesus will have to come along. He’s good help and can bring the horses up tomorrow morning and we can leave from there.”

  She warily shook her head under the coat’s hood. “I bet it is three hundred miles to where the kidnappers are.”

  “I have no idea. We’ll just go till we get there.”

  “It could take over a week.”

  “I can’t fly like a bird, so we will simply ride and then find him.”

  “It is just like always. You leaving worries me. Just be careful.”

  “I will.” From what Betty Lou said, it was a damn sight farther than he had imagined. Since he knew of no stage line to Utah, he and the boys would have to tough it out, perhaps in the real cold. He’d see some new country, anyway.

  Marge sighed. “Oh, mercy. I will walk the floors.”

  Chet hugged her to him. “No, I will be fine. You and the baby will also be fine.”

  “All right. I’ll keep my chin up and pray.”

  “Much better.”

  Having completed the arrangements at the bank with Betty Lou and Banker Tanner, Chet drove them home.

  When they pulled into the drive, Jesus came out to meet them. Chet sent Marge on in out of the cold then asked Jesus, “Do you have some wool under wear and socks?”

  “Sí. Where are we going?”

  Chet shook his head. “We are going to Utah. It will be a long ride and probably cold. You will have to have some real warm clothes. A woman’s husband has been kidnapped up there and the outlaws want a large ransom for his release.”