Texas Blood Feud

by Dusty Richards

  May ran out of the house, and he hugged and kissed her, then looked up at Louise. “I see you made it back.”

  She nodded, and turned on her heel and went back inside.

  “We got along great,” Dale Allen said, going off with his wife. “I’m ready for Kansas.”

  “Good,” Chet said after him.

  “He did fine,” Matt said, working with Reg to untarp the packhorses. “You’d of been proud of him.”

  Better than that, he’d chosen his wife over Louise. Susie came out next, drying her hands on a towel and looking things over.

  “Everyone fit as a fiddle?” she asked.

  “Ready to dance, too,” Matt teased. “We’re all anxious for some of your cooking.”

  With everything under control, Chet went to the corral and joined J.D., who had the two horses hitched to rails.

  “They didn’t have stones in their frogs. I checked that.”

  “It’s more in his joint. See the swelling? Must have strained it. He don’t get better, we won’t take him to Kansas. We’ll cull him back.”

  “I think Mustard here needs shoes.”

  “Won’t hurt. Some horses need them. Others get by fine and never have to have them no more than we use them. Make sure he gets shod close to the time when you leave.”

  “I got a a few more need their hooves trimmed.”

  “We better work that out. I’m taking five of you to Kathren’s to get her steers sorted out and then driven over here.”

  “What did they do about Scotty and Mitch?”

  “Found them guilty.”

  J.D. nodded.

  After supper, Chet told them about the trial. He left out the personal parts. He did mention Mrs. Campbell’s plea for her boy and Earl’s threat to him.

  Things began to happen fast. Six of them rode to Kathren’s the day after they arrived home. They brought a packhorse loaded with food and Matt went along.

  Chet took off his hat, standing in her yard, and scratched the side of his scalp as he talked to her. “I love your cooking, but you can’t cook for these wolves and show us the cattle. Matt’s handling that for you.”

  “You’re excused this time. Matt, there’s the house, have fun.”

  “I will, Kathren. I will.”

  She pulled on her riding gloves and went for her saddle horse. “Most of them are on the Walker Flats. I’ve been busy.”

  “You have been,” Chet said, leading his horse beside her.

  “How are things at the ranch?”

  “Bustling with the drive coming up in less than two months.”

  “I know. I only get to see you on Saturday nights.”

  “I guess I better fix it up so you see me more often.”

  “You’ll have more time when they get off to Kansas.” Then she stepped in the saddle and pulled down the brim of her hat.

  “I sure will,” he said.

  She winked at him and turned the powerful gelding around. “Let’s go get those steers.”

  In three days, they gathered a hundred head of her biggest steers and cut them out. He planned to drive them to the ranch the next morning. They were alone, standing in the starlight, loosely holding each other, when he looked down at her.

  “I guess there’s been nothing in my life that I’ve looked forward to more than you and me being together all the time,” he said.

  “We’ll do it. I promise you.”

  He hugged her to him. “I know, and we’ll take picnics and have time just to be us.”

  “I’m writing all this down.”

  He looked to the heavens for help.

  When her cattle were at last with the ranch’s herd, he began assign the men each day to keep them bunched on that side of the creek. He wanted at least fifteen hundred, since it was Dale Allen’s first time to ramrod. That many would suit a new man.

  First week in February, they road-branded Warren Hodges’s consignment with a single bar on the right side. After two days at gathering, they went to work. It was done using a squeeze chute. The boiling dust and stinking burnt hair scorched his nostrils, but by late afternoon, they had them marked. The next week they went to the Jenks ranch, rounded up the one hundred head, and put the brand on them.

  It rained the day they brought them to the ranch

  “Week from today is the day they hang ’em, right?” J.D. asked him, riding at his side.

  “You been thinking about that?”

  “Sort of. One day, you think you know someone like Scotty. The next day, they do something like kill Mrs. Porter.”

  “I think they drug him along. But he never stopped ’em. He was there the whole time.”

  “Hell, he shot at you and Heck.” J.D. spurred his horse on, obviously upset by it all.

  “What’s eating him?” Reg asked, looking after his brother short-loping ahead off into the mist.

  “This hanging business is on his mind.”

  “Hell’s fire, it’s got us all. The three of us, I mean?”

  “I think you’re right.”

  “Guess you’ll go over and see her, huh?”

  “I’d like to.” Chet had had Kathren on his mind since he felt the first swish of rain that morning. “You want to go see Molly?”

  “It sure would beat lying around reading the same old Gazette in the bunkhouse.”

  “It damn sure would. I’ll tell Matt what we’re up to.”

  Reg gave him a salute. “See you at breakfast in the morning, Boss.”

  And he rode off.

  “Reg, he’s off to see his lady,” Chet told Matt. “After we put these steers on the flats, I reckon you and the boys could drop by Mayfield and soak up a beer or two,” He handed Matt a few dollars for the cause. “I’m going over to the 9Y and check on things. Don’t get in any wars. I mean, no fighting with them.”

  “We’ll keep a low profile.”

  “Good, see you in the morning.”

  Matt agreed with a smile, and everyone close spread the word. “Thanks,” came back in a chorus.

  An hour later, he stood on her stoop with rain running off his slicker and his hat ten pounds heavier. She looked hard at him. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “I thought it would be a good day for a picnic.”

  She chuckled and pulled him inside. “Cady, we have company.”

  “Did he say picnic?”

  “Yes. That’s just his cowboy humor, my dear.”

  Her slender ten-year-old, Cady, looked him over as he slipped off the wet slicker. “I get it.”

  “Some of the best picnics of my life were on a blanket in front of a fireplace.”

  “Where was that?” Cady asked.

  “Cady,” her mother said, raising her voice. “He might not want to share that information.”

  He said privately to Cady, “She’s worried it’s about the other women in my life.”

  “Tell me.”

  “My Grandma Cooney—”

  She gave him a small push with both hands. “More cowboy jokes, Mother,” Cady said.

  “See, you can’t trust ’em. We’ll make popcorn and sit on the floor in front of the hearth.”

  “Good, and he can tell stories.”

  “They probably won’t be stories young girls should hear.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you have to do more growing up to hear them.”

  He shook his head. Two women picking on him might be more than he could handle.

  “How is the cattle gathering going?” she asked, preparing things.

  “Good. We’ve made good progress. My brother is taking a good hold of things. He’ll get headed north by March fifteenth.”

  “How long does it take to get up there?” Cady joined them with her long-handed popper.

  “Oh, six weeks across Texas, six more to Kansas, three more from there.”

  Cady took charge of making popcorn on her knees. Some thunder rolled across the land, and he shared a nod and wink with Kathren.

  The
y discussed Susie, the ranch, and avoided the matter of the feud, which he was grateful for. Eating popcorn, and drinking sweet lemonade, they whiled away the afternoon, laughing and teasing.

  “I’m sure glad you and Mom are getting married,” Cady said, leaning back, her hands braced behind her. Lots of her mother’s features made her an attractive young girl.

  “Why’s that, Cady?” he asked.

  “’Cause I like doing this. Sitting around and all of us laughing and having a good time. We never do this much.”

  “Well, we’ll have to do it more often.”

  “Good, I’ll love it.”

  “The rain’s let up some now. Maybe you should do the chores,” Kathren said.

  “Okay, but you just want him to yourself.”

  “Cady.”

  “Yes, Mother, I am going.”

  Cady was soon dressed in a slicker, and went off to feed the chickens and milk the cow. On her knees, Kathren crossed the blanket to kiss him. “I’m sorry about my daughter.”

  “Why, she’s you all over.”

  “Good. You can stay tonight. She sleeps in the side room and if we don’t—ah, make too much noise—” She tossed her hair back and looked him in the eye. “I guess she’s going to have to get used to us being together anyway.”

  “You’re calling the shots. I can ride back to the ranch.”

  She chewed on her lower lip, then acting if she was thinking he might leave, caught his arm. “No, I want you to stay here—with me.”

  Before sunup, he left her place and headed for home. When the sunlight came, the diamonds of water drops sparkled on everything. It would be a great morning ahead, and he short-loped for the house across the soggy ground.

  The crew was saddled up and fixing to leave. Dale Allen told him they were going to be certain the steers were all east of the creek and staying there. A day of bunching them wouldn’t hurt. At least his brother had good thoughts as the herd boss. He’d make it.

  “I’ll check on my farm crew up there and join you later,” said Chet.

  “No problem. Those two hands you hired to stay here are working out all right.”

  “Good.” Chet rode up to the house. In the living room, he found his father in his chair napping.

  “Morning, Dad.”

  “Hmm, helluva morning. I told your mother that ground’s too wet to plow. How come they going to plow it like that?”

  “Aw, they ain’t plowing today.”

  “Huh? Why, don’t they know a damn thing about farming.”

  “They aren’t plowing today,” he said louder.

  “Huh? Who’s plowing?”

  “No one, Dad. No one.”

  Susie came to the doorway and waited for Chet to follow her back. “You can see. He’s losing it bad.”

  “Yes, I see. But there isn’t a thing we can do about it.”

  “He doesn’t hurt anyone,” she said, pouring him some coffee.

  “How are you and—” He looked around. “Louise getting along?”

  “No problem. Maria helps her clean her house and she acts more satisfied to be here.”

  “Good. Something’s wrong. Shreveport and the South could not have changed her that much.”

  The hot cup in his hand, he looked up and smiled when May and the baby came in the kitchen. “Oh, you made it back?” May said.

  “Yes, I sure did.”

  “Well?” May looked hard at him for an answer.

  “Well, what?” he said back to her, taking the baby and hoisting it in the air

  “You know what. Susie and I want to know when does the wedding takes place.”

  “April or May. She’s talking late April.”

  “What can we plan on?”

  “Oh, we’ll simply get married by some judge and go on.”

  “Not on your life. She never had a real wedding with him. We’re going to give her one,” Susie said.

  He held up his hands. “You tell her.”

  “We will.” And they agreed in a defiant way that he wasn’t about to argue with.

  Chapter 33

  He went to the public hanging. Not because he wanted to, but because he felt it important he show up there for Marla. Kathren went with him. They drove up to Mason the day before. Kathren stayed at her aunt’s. He went by and picked her up at five in the morning with the buckboard. Although he had offered to let her sleep in, she calmly told him she would be there at his side.

  So they stood back behind the near silent crowd of onlookers in the chill of the predawn, and he could see the two nooses hung from the scaffold in the lamplight. Trent had several guards armed with rifles standing by.

  “They’re bringin’ ’em.” A hush fell over the crowd. The ring of chains and leg irons was the only sound until a few birds began to wake up and chirp. Sunup was beginning to purple the eastern horizon. Both boys looked haggard in the yellow lamplight. To Chet, they looked too young to be up there.

  From the scaffold, Trent read the judge’s orders. The two were asked if they had any words. Both shook their heads. The minister prayed aloud for them. The chains were removed. Their legs and hands were bound behind them. Trent put the nooses on them, then the hoods, and a deadly silence prevailed. The snap of the trapdoors opening drew a breath-sucking noise from the assembled.

  The two bodies swung like pendulums. Both of their necks were broken in the fall, and they’d never suffered. Neither of them had said a word of apology. But he had a flicker of bitter memory pass through his mind with a vivid vision of Marla’s bloody corpse.

  He helped Kathren onto the spring seat. He recognized one of the Campbells standing beside the scaffold with a wagon and coffins to take their bodies back. Reins in his hand, Chet clucked to the team. Time to get back. Anxious to leave the whole thing in Mason, he made them trot harder.

  “Bad morning?” she asked.

  He looked off at the early blooming peach trees in a small orchard beside the road, and then he nodded. “Reminders, I guess, of why I was there.”

  “I was going to ask you if late April was a good time.”

  He nodded and forced a smile. “You need to talk to my sister and sister-in-law. They want a big wedding. Dress and shindig at the ranch.”

  “Why?”

  “They said you had a small wedding the first time. This one needs to be a big one.”

  She looked at the brim of her hat for help. “We’re just getting married.”

  He laughed, and then he hugged her with his right arm. “You talk to them. I can’t.”

  “What if we run off then?”

  “Those two would cry. But the date suits me fine.”

  She gave him a stern look. “Good, I’ll speak to them.”

  He nodded his approval and made the horses go faster.

  The next morning, he rode back to the ranch. When he arrived, they were saddling up to go collect the cattle of Warren Hodges’s widow. The new boys were going to work keeping the steers bunched in the bottoms. J.D. and Heck were doctoring and shoeing lame-footed horses. He spoke briefly with Dale Allen, and went inside to tell Susie the news about a wedding date in late April.

  His sister did not take it lightly, and said she’d speak to Kathren, or maybe she said she’d convince Kathren. He never was certain. He left to check on his farmhands.

  The plowing had commenced. Five mules up on the sulky plow and two teams of oxen, one each on the handheld plows. Earlier, Dale Allen had sharpened all the plowshares, so they were flopping over the short grass and weeds. The rest of the help was checking the boundary fences, putting in new stakes where they were broken. He’d try for a hundred of corn—that would be lots of corn to plant, cultivate, and gather.

  That checkup on his farmers completed, he rode over to see about the Hodges roundup. Matt was cooking at a campfire east of the home place. Chet dropped off his horse, hitched him on a picket line, and walked up. A large hunch of beef on a spit over the crackly blaze smelled heavenly.

  “How’s it
going over here?” Squatted at the fire ring, Chet used a handkerchief on the handle to pour himself a cup of coffee.

  “Oh, all right. Pinky had a bad wreck this morning. His horse hit a hole, broke a leg, and had to destroyed. He’ll be sore for a while.”

  “Where’s he at?”

  “Hell, riding one of Hodges’s horses, and he damn near threw him when they caught him.” Matt dropped to his butt on the ground, the stiff leg out in front. “Casey said to tell you to keep an eye out. They really want your hide bad.”

  “Tell them I’m around. Come get it.”

  “No, when we stopped for the beer the other day, he sounded sincere as hell.”

  “I figured after they got them two buried this week, they’d be boiling mad over again.”

  Matt agreed with a bob of his head. “How are you going to end it?”

  “I guess kill the whole damn lot of ’em.”

  “Big order.”

  “Yeah. You know that you can cut a rattler’s head off and him still bite you.”

  Chet sipped the coffee and thought about his options again concerning the Reynolds family. Nothing new. He also had Matt make him a list of the things he’d need for the chuck wagon.

  He rode back home with the crew after supper. Reg and one of the hands were going to stay with them overnight. The trap fencing wasn’t too well kept up. So they were going to take shifts riding around them at night to hold the cattle in. Matt stayed with his cooking gear and food for the next day’s branding, and offered to take a shift if they got too tired.

  It was long past sundown when the crew reached the ranch. Susie came out and looked relieved when he told her they’d all eaten.

  “How’s it going?”

  “Too fast. They’ll be heading north in no time. How did things go for you today?”

  “Fine,” she said as he herded her inside the house.

  “How about Louise?”

  “She’s a different person since she returned. She’s even civil to May.”

  “Good. I’m going into Mayfield tomorrow and cut a deal for the supplies with Mr. Grosman. Matt made me a list today. Grosman’ll need to order part of it, I’d bet.”

  “Good idea. You going to be able to let them go without you?”

  “Sure. Why?”

  “You’ve been the one for so long. I just figured that you’d have to go along.”