“What does that barred mean?” She chuckled.
“In a prizefight, that means you can kick, bite, or gouge out his eyes.”
“After that, we better go eat.” Her arm around him, they went for the kitchen, laughing.
“Raphael is coming to the house with a man. Raphael is the foreman for this ranch,” Monica said to Liz, looking out the back window.
Then she directed her words at Chet. “If that man needs to eat, we have plenty of food.”
Monica turned to Liz. “People come all the time and need him. I bet this one does, too.”
“Ah, good morning,” his foreman said. “Mr. Talburt has a problem and needs some help from Chet.”
“Raphael, step inside and meet my future wife. You missed the party last night.”
“Oh, I go to bed early.”
“Go on in and meet her.”
“Si.”
“Sir, what can I do for you?” Chet asked the man.
“Someone shot my brother in the back, and the law don’t seem to want to do anything about it.”
“Where is he?”
“Over by Four Peaks. It’s in Gila County. Here’s his wife’s letter. I know you’ve been over there.”
Dear Orville,
I don’t know who to call on. Your brother Argus was shot in the back over three weeks ago by some men who live nearby. Despite my letters to the sheriff begging for help and asking others no one has came. He is laid up in bed. The neighbor took the bullet out right after he was shot. I don’t think he could live through a wagon ride to Globe or Mesa. Who can I turn to?
Easter Talburt
“You know that country?” Orville asked.
Chet nodded. “Kinda strange that no one has investigated it. It’s a dang long ride over there. My man, Jesus, will be here tonight. He’ll need a day’s rest. Then Cole, Jesus, and I will go over there and see what we can learn. Come inside. We’re having lunch. Hang your hat and coat over there. I’ll need a map on how to find her.
“Folks, this is Orville. His brother was shot over in Gila County. And no one will see about it.”
Monica pointed her finger at Liz. “I told you so. Sir, do you drink coffee?”
“I do.”
“Good, I will fix you a plate and cup. Sit down there. These two just started eating. Don’t worry about a thing. We feed everyone at this ranch house.”
Chet could see Liz was amused by Monica’s take-charge style.
“Men come here all the time and act like they never eat away from home, and my cooking has not killed one of them yet.”
Chet knew he was home. He shook his foreman’s hand and winked at him. “Thanks, good to be back for a day anyway.”
Raphael waved his sombrero at Liz, ready to leave. “We will talk another time, señora. So nice to have you here.”
“Yes, we will.”
“Things are back to normal here. The Byrnes detective agency is open for business again,” Monica announced.
“Anita, you can tell Jesus when he gets here tonight that he has one day to rest, and for him to show you Preskitt. The next day we’ll ride for Four Peaks.”
The poor girl looked around, lost.
“Don’t worry, he’s a real gentleman, and you need to see the town and the church. Tomorrow, your boss and I are going to go look at the horses that she came for the first time I met her.”
Liz laughed and reassured Anita the situation would be fine. “And I really do want to see his horses.”
They talked afterward. “I’m sorry people depend on me to straighten out these kinds of things for them. You’ll have to share me.”
Liz frowned. “Where is the law over there? It sounds like Mexico.”
“We’re building on that. Don’t worry. We’ll try to quickly settle it.”
“I can see I will have to share you. I don’t mind, so long as I’m part of you. We will squeeze in our time, too. Wading in shallow rivers?” she asked. “Well, it was the only foot washing I could think about.”
He hugged her and swung her around. “It was nice.”
They could work on the marriage business when he came back. She wasn’t in any hurry and he wanted their union well done. They had no one to please but themselves.
CHAPTER 7
When Chet, Cole, and Jesus rode out the gate for Rye, Jesus was taking lots of ribbing about his showing Anita the town the day before. The weather wasn’t exactly warm that morning, frosty but clear. Chet’s other roan, the strawberry one, walked on his toes a lot, but never bucked. They led two packhorses. Chet counted on a three-day hard ride to get to the Talburt ranch.
“Now that we’ve teased you about Anita, what do you think about her?” Chet asked Jesus.
“I was shocked that she asked to meet me. Oh, she is a very nice young lady. But we only talked a few times in Nogales. When I got to the stage office, she came out of the night and hugged me and said she was glad I got there safe. I have never been on that stage line when it was being held up. Whew, I didn’t know what to think.”
“Did you have fun in town with her yesterday?”
“Oh, I did. We had ice cream at the drugstore. Cole told me it was a better place for the two of us to go than the big saloon.”
Chet and Cole shared a nod over that item.
“We went to the church, too. She prayed there and thanked me. She asked if I went there often. I told her at Christmas, sometimes.”
They both laughed at his answer.
“She may be good for you,” Cole said. “Valerie and I go to Marge’s church. It sure won’t hurt.”
“Did she say anything about Liz’s parents? That was one thing we never got around to,” Chet asked.
“No, but Anita told me Liz really did run the hacienda. There are many people that live and work there.”
“Her brother-in-law is going to run it. I never heard what killed her husband.”
Jesus shook his head. “She never said. Anita is a very nice quiet lady.”
“Had she ever ate ice cream before?” Cole asked.
He chuckled. “No, she never had. It was a big treat, she told me.”
“Twenty cents’ worth?”
“Yes.”
“Them expensive dates are going to break you, buddy.”
Jesus shook his head. “I can afford some more.”
“If you can’t, Cole can finance the rest,” Chet said.
The warm sun shone on them as they trotted their horses northeast from Hayden’s Ferry. Four Peaks, the highest mountain, loomed far to the east. The saguaro desert spread out, bristling with cholla, and the pungent creosote smell of the greasewood brush attacked his nose. They’d reach the Rye area by late the third day. According to his map, the turnoff was on the right-hand side of the road. And a half mile up that lane was where she lived.
“We’ve been up in this country before,” Chet said, looking around.
“Jesus tracked some horses up here.”
“I recall that.”
The sign read TALBURT and an arrow mark showed the way.
“Lots of these folks don’t have real houses, as I recall,” Chet said, looking around as they rode uphill.
“Squaw shades, they call them.”
Chet nodded.
“It is a poor land, much like Mexico. It isn’t farmland,” Jesus said.
“Yes, I don’t know how anyone can live off cattle sales alone up here.”
Cole shook his head. “All farming is hard stuff. We grew cotton at home in Texas. Bumble bee kind. Land was so poor the bumble bees had to bend over to pollenate the flowers on them.”
“You’re saying you’d rather be a cowboy than pick cotton?” Chet teased.
Cole shook his head. “That isn’t even a good question.”
“I agree,” Jesus said.
“I bet that shade on that hillside up to the left is hers.” Chet pointed to some brush pole corrals and palm fronds stacked high on the peaked roof of the remada.
A ha
rd-faced woman in her thirties came out, carrying a rifle. “What do you three want?”
“We’re U.S. Marshals. Are you Mrs. Easter Talburt?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Your brother-in-law, Orville, asked us to come see you.”
“You came too late. My husband died yesterday.”
“I’m sorry, but we couldn’t have saved his life. This is Cole and Jesus. They’re my deputies. My name is Chet Byrnes. We want to set down and talk to you about this matter, and we’ve ridden a long ways. Do you drink coffee?”
“Yes, but I have none.”
“No problem. Jesus can make us some.”
“I only have benches to sit on.” She looked troubled about their encounter with her and held the rifle in one hand by the barrel.
“I know you’ve had some tough times, ma’am. Benches are fine. We can sit on the ground. We’re simply cowboys who have come to help you.” He moved uphill, took the rifle, and patted her shoulder to reassure her. “I’m so sorry we didn’t come earlier.”
She sobbed into his vest. “You didn’t know. I buried him myself yesterday, but I didn’t have the courage left to finish covering him up.”
“Let’s go inside and sit down. We can do that for you. We came on short notice. Your brother-in-law told us about your problem and then we had to get here. That took three days.”
“I have no food to feed you. No coffee.”
“Jesus can handle that matter. Sit in the rocker and I’ll get a blanket. It’s cold enough you’re shaking.” With her situated in the chair, he squatted down on the ground before her. “Cole, get a blanket for her.”
He hurried away and returned quickly with a blanket to wrap around her.
“Start at the beginning of your story.”
“Oh, I don’t know what I can tell you. Argus worked in the mines at Globe. We thought we would move. We have, or had, some cattle. We planned to sell them and try to go somewhere else.”
“Where was it you planned to move?”
“The mines at Crown King, maybe. This place was his dream. He wanted a ranch. We have a homestead patent on this section, but folks wouldn’t let us alone. First, the Carpenters moved in and squatted on our land. He finally got them to leave. The Burris family came next. He caught the four of them butchering one of our calves and they shot him in the back. It was our calf.”
“Is there any way you could prove they were butchering your calf?”
She dropped her face down. “No, that was just the start. They destroyed the hide, I’m sure. They told the deputy it was their calf, and the four of them swore he shot at them when they were butchering their own calf and they shot back.”
“Where was your husband shot?”
“In the back. The deputy come around and said it was self-defense. He attacked them and the calf they had killed was theirs—case dismissed.”
“Who could testify they shot him in the back?”
“Stan Couples, who took the bullet out. I didn’t figure Argus’d live to make it to Mesa or Globe riding in a wagon. We knew he was bad off. But they shot him and left him for dead. I think they thought he was dead when they rode off.”
“You have run out of food and caring. I don’t mean caring about him. I mean caring about your own life.”
She nodded, and the rocker runners creaked some. “Reason I didn’t bury him—I was going to shoot myself and lie in the same grave when they found me.”
Disappointed at her answer, Chet shook his head hard at her. “Easter, suicide is not an answer.”
“If you’d been through the hell I’ve been in . . . They ran my horses off. I kept one in the lot and they come back for him. I had the gate tied. One morning I found the rope cut and he was gone.”
“Describe your horses.” He held his herd book in hand to jot down the information with a pencil.
“The team was two bays, about five years old. Mustangs he caught and broke. They had two T’s on their right shoulder. A paint, brown and white, some black in her mane, she was my horse and about seven. His gray gelding was, I think, seven, too. He wore a Hat brand. I have those papers.”
“Did they steal them?”
“Maybe ran them off. I don’t know. Those horses wouldn’t leave the ranch unless driven away.”
“Tell me about the Burris bunch.”
“They live north of here. They’ve made other people leave. One day those folks were here, the next they had left. I know they scared them away.”
“Easter, I need proof.”
“How can I get proof? They ride in wearing masks, shoot up things, and who sees them?”
“I guess we’ll have to look for witnesses.” He dropped his gaze to the ground.
Jesus brought her a steaming cup of coffee, and one for him, too. “We need some firewood to cook supper,” he said to Chet.
She shook her head like that, too, was impossible. “I’ve used all there is close around here.”
“Jesus and I will ride out and find some,” Cole said.
They had a few hours of light left before sundown, so Chet agreed.
A short while after they left, Chet heard a rifle shot.
“What was that?” she asked, her face turning pale.
“A rifle shot. One should be no problem. They may have shot a deer to eat.”
“I’m just jumpy, I guess.”
Cole soon came in with a slain deer over his saddle.
“We can hang him on the crossbar,” she said. “I’ll get my knives and tubs. You guys are sure some outfit.”
Jesus came back dragging a bunch of mesquite brush on his lariat to make a fire.
She brought the two men some rope to hang the carcass. With the deer swung on the crossbar, Chet told Cole to work on the firewood supply with Jesus. Cole went for his hitched horse and Chet began sharpening a knife to skin out the deer.
“I’m amazed. You are lawmen, aren’t you?” asked Mrs. Talburt.
“Yes, but we are simple people and used to working outside when needed. Tell me all you know about these people who shot your husband.”
“They’re bullies. They came in here a few years ago. Started acting like they owned the whole country. Those boys of his raped a few young girls. But they never raped the daughter of any rancher who they knew better than to cross. At least, I never heard of them doing that.”
“Most people keep or sell the hides of beef they butcher?” He was splitting open the deer’s hind legs to peel the hide back.
“I don’t know. Why?”
“If they have one wrong-branded hide, it can point to rustling.”
“How do you find out?”
“Make a surprise search.”
He started cutting up the middle of the carcass to divide the hide, careful not to split hair and get it on the carcass. That was where one got the raw deer flavor on the meat. This animal was fat and would make Mrs. Talburt lots of meat to jerk. The hide removal was advancing when Cole brought him two buckets of water.
“You’re making good progress,” Cole said. “I’m going to try to get some more firewood.”
“The two of us will get this done.”
She worked on one side to remove the hide, Chet on the other. He noticed right away that she was a hardworking lady, using a knife to peel back the hide. Maybe in her mid-thirties, but he had no doubt she could fight a bear if challenged. But she was too thin; no doubt she hadn’t eaten much since her husband was shot. He couldn’t blame her, since she had no one to help her.
With the hide finally off, she said she would tan it. Nothing would go to waste. He washed his hands and began to eviscerate the deer. When he dumped the guts in a tub, she took the liver and the heart out. She also cut out the kidneys and put them in a pan with the other parts.
Cole had come back twice with fuel on the end of his lariat, while Jesus was busy chopping it up.
Chet rinsed off the carcass. Mrs. Talburt took the parts to the cooking area, and came back with an ax.
&nb
sp; “How do you want him cut up?” he asked her.
“Chop his ribs out, and I’ll slow-cook them all night. They’ll be good in the morning.”
“I can do that.”
“We can use the quarters for jerky, and eat the back strap. Do you have a wife?” she asked.
“I lost my wife a short time ago. She had a horse wreck.”
“I wasn’t prying.” She had the big pan ready to go up the hill.
“Have I acted like I wasn’t married?”
“Oh, no.”
“There is a special lady at my ranch now, waiting for us to close our business here so we can make plans for the future.”
“I’ll write a letter and thank her for letting you come. Oh, and call me Easter. We’ve dressed a deer together today, so we can call one another by our first names.”
Chet, amused by her comments, concealed a smile and agreed he would.
Jesus had some onions to fry with the liver. The frijoles, he complained, were slow to get cooked, so he fried some German potatoes. They sat around the table, sipping his fresh coffee.
“How do we stand?” Cole asked.
“We still need to close the grave this evening. I want us to take a look at the Burris place. They may have some hides that don’t belong to them. If we can’t hang a murder charge on them, a rustling one will do the job.”
“They dumb enough to keep a hide with another brand on it?” Cole asked.
“If they think they’re tough enough, yes.”
“How will we do that?”
“Ride up and search their buildings.”
“You have a warrant?”
“We’ll get their permission.”
Cole laughed. “That should work huh, Jesus?”
“Sure. We have searched lots of folks. It should work. The food is done. Come fill your plates.”
“I think a surprise visit, early in the morning, might be good.”
The two men agreed with him.
“What if there are no hides?” she asked.
“I intend to put the fear of God in them.”
“You three do this all the time?” Mrs. Talburt asked.
“When we aren’t helping folks like you, we ranch,” Chet said.
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