by Lou Bradshaw
From the top of that ridge I would be able to tell when they were in position. As I studied the ranch layout, I had the feeling that we were too late. Unless they were holed up in one of the buildings, then they were already gone. The place was deathly still. There wasn’t even a chicken scratching around the yard. No smoke came from the cook stove chimney. There were only two horses standing in the corral. I told Filipe what I thought and he agreed, but on the side of caution we decided to go ahead with the original plan.
When I could see the others below the house were in position, I gave the signal and we rode in with a rush. At the foot of the porch steps, I fired off my pistol, and yelled, “Rank Williams, Peter Williams… come out with your hands up. We’ve got the place surrounded. The vaqueros were finding cover, all except Filipe and me. I stormed up the steps with the sawed off in hand and hammers back. Filipe was right with me holding a rifle. Filipe kicked open the door and we went in like two invaders breeching a castle wall. With my second step, I was in the middle of the floor, and I used the shotgun like a hunting dog. It was moving in all directions sniffing for a target.
We went through the next door and then separated, each of us taking another door and meeting in the kitchen. I led up the back steps to the second floor. There were two rooms there, but both were empty. There was no way to tell what they’d taken with them, since we didn’t know what was there to begin with.
When we reached our horses one of the vaqueros shouted from the barn. “Three horses going west pronto.” The barn was empty and there was only one beat up saddle in the tack room. They were gone. We turned the two horses out of the corral and headed west in hot pursuit.
They weren’t wasting any time trying to hide their trail. They were running for their lives. We followed for four or five miles. It seemed that they were making a wide circle from west to north. The plain gave way to canyons and gullies; we wouldn’t be able to follow at a lope on this rocky broken ground.
Moving slower and with more care we were able to hear horses approaching from the north. We all pulled back into the rocks and cedars with rifles ready. Presently, they stopped and came at a walk. As the lead rider came into view, my Winchester was centered on his chest, but the next rider caused me to lower it lest I shoot Burt Samuels.
I stepped out from behind a mass of rocks waving my hat. Eight rifles turned in my direction. I was some relieved when they started lowering them. It seems that the Claybrook’s bunch found the same thing at the Rafferty ranch that we found at the Williams spread… Nothing.
The way I figured it, the Rafferty and Williams families were meeting up somewhere. I wasn’t quite sure what the three riders from the Williams ranch meant. It could have been Milo going to tell the boys, or it could be a hired hand. It didn’t matter because one more or ten more, we still had to go get em.
We stopped to talk things over, and it was decided, that since both the Vega and Samuels ranches were within five miles of where we were that each would send a rider back for more supplies. Two days should be enough. They were to catch up with us the next day. Almost every cattleman worth his salt generally carried some jerky and coffee in case he got caught out overnight. We returned to the trail, hoping that we wouldn’t need two days rations.
We camped that evening in a draw near a seep, which wouldn’t afford us enough water for baths, but it would fill our canteens, make coffee, and water the horses. There was enough forage for the horses, but there wouldn’t be much when we left in the morning.
After a meager breakfast, consisting mostly of coffee, a few biscuits and beef jerky, we picked up the trail and rode on. Our best trackers were out in front with the rest of us strung out behind. We were traveling at a jog part of the time and a walk the rest of the time. The terrain became rougher and rougher with tracks being harder to spot.
Burt Samuels dropped back beside me and said, “Blue, I don’t know this country real well, never had much reason to come over this way. But if I remember correct, we’re gonna come onto a good sized valley coming up here pretty soon… and it’s almighty long, wide, and sandy. We’ll be playing hell trying to follow their trail. Those boys up there are pretty good trackers, but they won’t know if they’re lookin at a shod horse, wild horse, cow or mule track. It’s got me some worried, I don’t mind tellin you.” Well, that news had me some worried too.
Within an hour we found that valley, and sure enough, that soft sand left nothing but dents without any definition. For a while we followed a trail where there had been five or six riders, or it could have been left by a small herd of cows. We just couldn’t tell. After a while we they got smart and spread out. That burnt the biscuits. We couldn’t even tell how old they were. Finding some fresh horse droppings gave us hope, but those tracks soon became just part of the puzzle.
Calling the posse to a halt I told them, “Chances are those fellas are gonna break out of this sand and head into the high country that surrounds it. I think we need to split up and follow the edge of this little desert. We would have a better chance of. seeing where they left it.”
The Vega bunch can take the south side and the Samuels crew take the north. If you find anything bang off three shots. The others will follow. Otherwise we’ll meet somewhere west of here.”
Luckily, our supply train showed up shortly after we split up. We kept the frijoles and beef and pointed the bread and beef to the north. We started working the edge. It was a little more solid there and we could tell what kind of critter was making the tracks. Both north and south looked to be well cut up with canyons. We didn’t take anything for granted and had someone ride into each canyon a couple of hundred yards, just in case they’d done a good job covering their trail at the canyon mouth…. Nothing.
The sun was a white hot ball of fire, and it showed no mercy on anyone. It didn’t matter if your folks came on a ship from England or Spain, or if your folks were already here waiting when those ships landed… it was hot. I did look longingly at those big wide sombreros the vaqueros were wearing. I felt a twinge of sympathy for Claybrook in that narrow brimmed eastern hat he was wearing. Figured he’d learn, if his brains didn’t boil first.
We met up with the northern bunch at mid afternoon. We watered our horses and started back. This time we took the middle, in case there was something hidden out there. Spreading the men out with a hundred or so yards between em, we nearly covered the whole width of the valley. If there was anything in that valley, we never saw it. If there was a way out of that valley without leaving a trail, we never found it.
Camping that night, at the same place we had camped the night before, we had ourselves a little conversation among the whole group. We all came up with pretty much the same conclusion… they shook us. It was decided that those fellers knew a lot more about this country than any of us did. There was no sense in wearing out men and horses.
I told both groups that the Williams brothers and their uncles were all wanted for murder and rustling by the US Marshal’s office, and both were hanging offenses, so if they came upon them to shoot to kill. Both Filipe and Burt agreed that the chances of them being in the area were slim to none. I knew that Filipe wanted justice for his brother, but there was no help for it. We lost them.
Chapter 14
Two days later, Claybrook, the two deputies, and I were back in Taos. The first order of business for Claybrook was to write a report, basically telling Stewart that the four men had escaped and were to be considered dangerous. Next, he asked that wanted posters be printed with descriptions supplied by me.
My first order of business was to head for the MB and work on my house. But a brief stop at the Esses was in order.
When I road into the yard, Patty came running from the door welcoming me. I told her what had happened and that as far as I was concerned, I was out of it. I had done my duty and now I had a house to build. She thought that was a mighty fine idea. I asked her if she was up for a little ride for the next morning. She said she was and we made a date.
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I had been thinking about the house all the way back from Tierra Arriba, and I had me an idea. She pressed me to tell her where we were going, but all I would tell her was that I wanted her to meet some friends of mine. She finally gave up and told me to be there for breakfast, and we could leave right after.
Breakfast was one of my three favorite meals… especially if I didn’t have to cook it of clean up after it.
That evening, I talked to Rafe about our wasted trip to Rio Amarilla. “So, all I can tell you, Rafe, is that it was six days wasted out of my life. The only thing that came out of it was that Ethan Claybrook got a sunburn. I imagine, his first stop will be at the Mercantile to get a big boy hat.
The next morning, Patty and I were saddled and ready as soon as breakfast was finished and all the coffee that could be drunk had been. She was dressed for riding, and she looked great. She sparkled like a Sunday morning in May. Of course she rode side saddle, which looked almighty uncomfortable to me, but she took to it like there was no other way to ride a horse. I was calculating and realized that this was the first time we had ridden together… out on our own. Old Sam must really trust me, to take his pretty young granddaughter out for an all day ride un-chaperoned. Either that or he figured that I wasn’t smart enough to realize the opportunity… I suspected it was the latter.
As we rode she kept badgering me to give her a clue as to where we were going. When we were far enough that I didn’t figure on her turning around and going home I said, “We’re going to visit Juan and Margarita Domingo at their rancho.” What I expected was a queer look from her, but what I got was a look of wide eyed and delighted surprise.
Excitedly, she started hammering me with a thousand questions, but they all came down to one word, “Why?” I told her that Juan was one of my neighbors and a good friend, and that Senora Margarita was a lovely lady and I thought she would enjoy meeting them.
“But most of all, I think they are fine people and you are a very fine young woman, and fine people should get to know each other.”
“Ben, I’ve lived in this country all my life. I was born here, but I have never been inside a hacienda. What Spanish I know, I’ve learned from Rosa and cooks before her. Sometimes I’m ashamed of how we live our lives without even knowing what’s going on in the lives of our neighbors a few miles away. We only imagine what is going on behind their walls. Isn’t that a shame?”
“Si.” Was all I said.
“That’s why I admire my friend Linda Tucker. When she learned that Father Paul needed someone to teach English to Mexican and Indian youngsters, she jumped at it. We’re all living on the plateau, but we hardly know one another.”
I was very proud of her way of thinking.
We rode on the rest of the way, and she kept asking questions. Some of them didn’t make much sense, Like did she look alright… of course she looked alright. I said she looked terrific.
“Oh, what do you know? I should have worn something else… something with a little more color…” I didn’t even try to follow any of that.
Riding into the courtyard of the hacienda, a young stable boy came out to hold the horses. Enrique followed close behind. “Benito, is good to see you my friend. And you brought the lovely senorita… Juan and the senora will be so pleased.”
At that moment Juan came through the entrance door followed close behind by the senora. “Welcome, Benito, and you have brought a guest, the lovely Senorita Stellars.”
“Thank you. Juan… Senora.” I said in Spanish. “We were out for a ride, and I took a chance that you would be home. I think you both know Patricia Stellars, but I’ll make the formal introductions anyway.” Which I did. “It is my wish that all my friends are friends.”
“Then so be it.” Declared Juan. “But out of deference to the senorita, let us speak in English.” He then ushered us into the hacienda.
Patty was beside herself with excitement. They led us to the inner courtyard, where comfortable seating was in place. Refreshments were brought out by a serving girl, and we settled into light conversation.
I showed Patty how the courtyard or patio as they called it was an outdoor part of the inside of the house. There were a few well trimmed trees growing there and flowers as well. It was shaded and comfortable. The rest of the structure was built around it with doors and windows facing the patio. The main rooms were in the front, with sleeping quarters on one side and dining area to the other side. The kitchen was in the rear, which completed the rectangle.
The walls were thick and strong. They were cool in the summer and warm in the winter, with fireplaces or braziers throughout the rooms as were needed. Some haciendas were larger and some were smaller. Juan had a successful rancho, and Casa Domingo home was somewhere in the middle.
The Senora Margarita asked Patty if she would care to see the rest of the hacienda, and you’d have thought she had just got a pony for Christmas. They went off chatting like a couple of school girls. I figured that Patty wanted to see everything, and Margarita wanted to see what the future held for Benito Blue. I didn’t mind in the least.
Juan and I talked of range conditions and the things that ranchers talk about when they are together. I told him of the failed attempted capture of the head of the rustling ring. He thanked me for making it possible to recover over three hundred head of cattle that had been stolen. I told him, “There were a lot of men who made that work… I was just one of them.”
He just smiled and said, “Si… whatever you say.”
He asked if I still had plans to chase the wild horses. I assured him that I did if I could borrow Pablo and perhaps one or two other vaqueros later in the summer. “I think there are enough fine animals in that herd to make it a profitable venture for both ranches… I only want the one young stallion and a few good mares, but there are many to be had.”
“Perhaps I will ride along on this venture.” He said, “I was once a fair hand with the rietta… Maybe not good enough to work for myself, but adequate. I need to spend more time in the saddle.”
The ladies came back, all smiles and almost giggling. Patty said that Senora Margarita had invited us to stay for the mid-day meal, and that she had accepted. That was her way of telling me that I had no say so in the matter, which I already knew.
Later, while riding back, I asked her what she thought. I just let it go at that. I didn’t try to steer the answer in any direction.
“Well,” she said, “the food was delicious. I’ll have to pay more attention to what Rosa’s doing and take some notes… Juan and Margarita are some of the nicest people I have ever met. Margarita wanted to know all about…us… you know about plans and such. She was so excited about their first grandchild, which will be born in the fall.” We rode for a few minutes in silence and she said, “And the house… the hacienda… I love the way it’s laid out. Everything is so open and so usable. The kitchen has a back side also which opens to another dining room for the vaqueros…” She went on for several miles talking about how comfortable and useful such a house was, and that they didn’t try to stuff it full of stuff.
“Would you like our house to be built that way?” I asked, not being aware that I had said “our house”
“Hmm…” she said, “Hacienda de la Blue. It has a nice sound to it… doesn’t it? And yes, I heard you call it ‘our house’ so don’t try to back out on that, buster.”
We rode on a little farther to the point where we would turn toward the Esses from the main trail. I said, “We have a little extra time, unless you have to be home to help Rosa, would you care for a side trip to the MB and see where I’d planned to put the… our house?”
“If we don’t, I’m really going to be hard to get along with, Mister.”
So we took a little side trip to the ranch, and I showed her what had been done and where I had planted a few cottonwood trees for future shade. “Patty,” I said, “I have been beating my brains out trying to get a handle on this building thing. I wanted it to be something like your
grandpa’s house, thinking that you would be comfortable in something that you were familiar with. But putting a house together is something I just don’t know anything about. Oh, I can put together a smokehouse or a log cabin, but I don’t want to bring you to a log cabin. Something about sawed wood and piecing all those sticks together just doesn’t set easy in my mind. I’m many things, but I’m not a carpenter.”
“Adobe bricks and plaster is something that makes sense to me, and I like the way those Spanish Haciendas are laid out. I especially like the patio in the middle. I could hire a carpenter or two to help me build a regular house, but they would be doing the building and I wouldn’t be much help to them.”
“Could you build an adobe?”
“Given time I could. Maybe it wouldn’t be as grand or as well polished as the Domingo Hacienda, but I could get help for the start and the finish. Making tiles for the roof would give me a challenge, but I could learn. I may not be as smart as some, but I make up for it in stubbornness.”
“I’m comfortable in Grampa’s house,” she said, “but that doesn’t mean I have to have one like it. When I move into my house, I want it to be my house. I want it to be what I am, not what my grandmother or my mother was.”
I thought for a moment and said, “You’re goin to have to guide me along with what’s needed and what’s not worth the effort… I’ve spent so many years in cabins, tents and lean-tos, that I really don’t know anything about how big it needs to be or how many rooms it needs to have. How many youngens can we cram into a single room?”
“That… is something we’ll have to figure out together. I don’t have any more kids than you, and I don’t know any more about what they need than you do. But I would like to set aside a nice comfortable room for Grampa… when he’s ready to move in.”
I told her that I’d make it close to the kitchen where he could be close to the coffee pot. And I could give him his own private door where he could sit outside in the sun or shade and contemplate all he wanted to.