Once a Ranger

by Dusty Richards

  Guthrey decided Raphael didn’t understand a word of what he had told him in English. In the saddle he shook his head at his dilemma about what to do with the teenager. Take him home, he guessed. They left in a hard trot eastward.

  * * *

  BY DARK HE was back in Soda Springs and the deputies were there to welcome him.

  “The Tucson sheriff notified us by telegraph that you’d put Looman in the jail there. We figured you were coming home,” Baker said. “Your wife is down at your shack. We told her you’d be here tonight and she came to town to meet you.”

  “We need to send two men to bring Looman back. Raphael here was his slave. Give him a bed in a cell. He is a scared young man who doesn’t savvy much English. Assure him he is not a prisoner. We will find a place for him. He can testify for us in court.”

  “We’ll look after him,” Zamora said.

  “You look caved in,” Baker said. “We can take care of your horses.”

  “Cochise can go in the corral down there. If you can care for the other two, I’ll be fine.”

  “Looman’s been on the run since he broke out of Yuma. How did you find him?” Baker asked.

  “I started south from Tucson, talking to people until a man told me about some goat lady Looman had gotten pregnant several times. I found her place and caught him when he dropped in to see her.”

  Baker shook his head. “The Rangers taught you well. One outlaw, one Ranger, huh?”

  They all laughed, including Guthrey.

  “Good night, boys.”

  Baker held up his hand to stop him. “Oh, that Walter Pierson is trying to run off ranchers. We have three reports on what he told them.”

  “Anyone do anything about him?” Guthrey looked them over for an answer.

  “No. We knew you’d be back and would want to handle it.”

  “I will. He hurt anyone?”

  “No. All words so far.”

  “We need to find more than words to do much about him. I’ll think on it some.”

  “Go see your wife,” Baker said and turned Guthrey toward the jail door. “She’s waiting for you.”

  “Thanks. We can handle Pierson when I get rested if we get some real firm details or evidence.”

  “Get real rested,” Baker said. “You’ve earned one.”

  Guthrey mounted Cochise and turned him downhill toward the shack. Stars flecked the sky as his weary horse moseyed down the road. He knew his paint horse was ready to rest too. At the corral, he dropped heavily from the saddle and went to loosening the latigo straps to his girths. Then he pulled the saddle off his back and set it on the ground atop the horn.

  Cally’s arms encircled his waist. “You made it back.”

  Wide-awake in her presence, he twisted around and squeezed her to his body. “Gods, girl, I have missed you. You all right?”

  “I’m fine. I must say, I’ve been worried about you. The telegram said you’d captured that killer and he was in jail. We all guessed you were all right.”

  “I’m sorry. I was so anxious to get back I forgot about the telegraph. You don’t have a telegraph key at the house, so I was riding home quick as I could.”

  “Oh, I knew you’d come back.”

  “I am so dirty,” he protested as she hugged him close again.

  “I filled a barrel of water and I can help you get in it, but what you really need is a shower setup here.”

  He laughed. “I just bought this place to sleep overnight here.”

  “Well, it needs some facilities, I can see that.”

  “Cally Guthrey, you’re sure something.” As they left the corral, he asked, “Did Dan come home?”

  She nodded. “Oh, he’s so pouty, I came in here to meet you.”

  “What about the woman?”

  “He said you ran her off.”

  “I told him to marry her or she could leave the county.”

  “She left.”

  “No big loss. He’ll get over it.”

  She hugged him as they approached the barrel set out behind the house under the stars. “I hope so. I have a chair out here to hang your gun belt and clothes on. There are fresh clothes in the house for you to wear tomorrow.”

  He undressed, shaking his head. “Darling, I have been so lonesome for you, night after night. This is sure sweet.”

  “I knew you’d need a bath, so I set this up. I hope it is still warm enough to sit in.”

  Once in the barrel he found the water was cold, but he squatted down inside to his chin and sighed. “It ain’t warm, but it damn sure feels good.”

  She scrubbed hard on his back with her long-handled brush and they went to work slipping off the dirt he had collected. She leaned over and kissed him. “Glad you’re home.”

  “Me too.” He came out of the tub shedding water.

  “I swept a path to the back door, if we can find it, so you don’t get needles in your soles.”

  “I’ll let you lead me.” He slung the gun belt over his shoulder and carried his boots by the ears.

  She put on his hat and carried his clothes in a ball. “I want to fix this house up. We have the money. Can I?”

  “Sure, darling. Whatever you think.”

  “You spoil me, Phil.”

  “No, I’m just pleased to have you. You have hot water in there?”

  “Sure. I can shave you.”

  “Good. I need it.”

  “Hey, I’d take a whisker burn to get you in bed. Now, aren’t I bad?”

  “No, just the wonderful woman I married.” They went in through the back door. Her plan had worked; no needles or goatheads in his soles.

  After he ate some cold biscuits with butter and prickly pear jelly, she shaved him, then they slipped off to the fresh sheets on the bed and enjoyed each other until they fell asleep.

  FIFTEEN

  DAWN CAME AND the wedded lovers shifted under the sheets. He was wrapped around and kissing her. “Good to be back.”

  “More than that. I miss you something powerful when you’re gone.”

  “I’d hoped to be back by Saturday to take you to the dance.”

  “I knew you were chasing down outlaws. I’m so glad you were not shot or hurt.”

  “That big rancher reared up while I was gone. Three families reported that he threatened them.”

  She rose on her elbows. “What’s his name?”

  “Walter Pierson. I may have to look him up.”

  “What did he do to the people?”

  “I’m going to read the reports today. My main men keep good records. Then I’ll go and question the ranchers he threatened, and when I learn something, I’ll question Pierson. I have to nip this in the bud.”

  “We better get dressed.”

  He agreed and swung his legs out of the bed. “Times I wonder why I took this job.”

  “No. That’s why you did take it—to end the injustice, and you’ve done well at it.”

  He smiled. “I simply never had a wife before either and I love her.”

  “I’m proud to be your wife.”

  “Good thing. You sure have an upside-down life with me.”

  “No, no, I love it.”

  “All right. But most women would complain about it.”

  She was dressing quickly on the far side of the bed. “You didn’t marry most women.”

  He laughed. “Obviously I didn’t. I’ll go feed the horse.”

  “I’ll start breakfast. Yesterday I bought some things to eat.”

  “I saw them. I’ll be back.”

  He strapped on his holster and took his hat off the hanger on the wall. Once Guthrey was outside in the cool morning, Cochise nickered at him. But the person seated on the ground was roused by the noise and scrambled to his feet. He was young—early twenties—and wore a cheap
black suit floured in dust.

  “Sheriff Guthrey?”

  “Yes, what can I do for you?”

  He swallowed hard and tried to pat down his unruly black hair with his palms. “You are a hard man to catch. My name is Albert Gooding. I am a—”

  “You’re a reporter, right?”

  “Ah, yes sir. I have been covering your takeover of the law here for the New York Mirror.”

  “And?”

  “I’d like to interview you about your experiences in this process.”

  “Not much to it. I deputized several ranchers, and the morning we had the authority to enforce the law, we rounded up all the criminals in Crook County.”

  “They said you brought in several Texas Rangers to help you.”

  “Sure. Some of the folks helped me came from Texas.”

  “Who were they?”

  “Ask them.”

  “But they went back to Texas. I need the answers from you, sir.”

  Guthrey poured out some corn into a smooth wood trough for the stallion. The big horse was pawing the dirt, impatient to eat. Guthrey reached over and patted his head while the stallion crushed the kernels in his molars. This young man and his questions were making Guthrey anxious. Next he fed Cally’s buckboard team, pouring corn in their trough too.

  How could he turn the reporter off?

  “I’m powerful busy right now. Could we do this at another time?”

  “I’ve been here nearly two months and this is the first time I even caught you. I need to send in a story on you or I’ll lose my job and be left penniless out here.”

  “I really don’t have time.”

  “I won’t take long. I promise.”

  Cally came to the door. “Bring your friend in. I have plenty of breakfast.” Then she set up the washbowls on the porch.

  “She’s feeding you. Come on.”

  “Oh, thanks. I didn’t come to beg a meal.”

  “She invited you, and she’s a mighty good cook. Come along.”

  “She’s your wife?”

  “Yes, she’s my wife. Why?”

  “Nothing. She just looked young.”

  “Don’t tell her that.” Guthrey chuckled.

  “Oh, I won’t insult her.”

  “Thanks.”

  They washed up on the porch and dried their hands. Albert tried again to pat down his hair without success, and Guthrey let him go in first.

  “Cally, this a big New York reporter, Albert Gooding.”

  “Nice to meet you, sir. Have a seat. There’s more pancakes coming.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. It sure smells good.”

  “Just pancakes and homemade syrup. Do you drink coffee, sir?”

  “My family call me Al, ma’am. Yes, I’d love some.”

  “Albert has to have a story about my job as sheriff or he’ll get fired.”

  “Oh, what does he need?”

  “A story about me and what I do as sheriff, he says.”

  “My husband is a little stiff about his accomplishments. You know he was a Texas Ranger captain before he came to Arizona to find a new future for himself and, I must say, a wife—me.”

  “Yes, ma’am. He’s very proud of you.”

  She blushed. “Thank you. Phillip Guthrey rescued my younger brother, Dan Bridges, from being gunned down in the community of Steward’s Crossing at the hands of hired gunmen. Then he came home with Dan and said he’d look at the situation that most of us were facing under the threat of a powerful rancher. My father had been shot twice in the back. There was no inquest held nor did any lawmen come to see about it.”

  Albert was busy scribbling down notes. “What did Sheriff Guthrey do?”

  “He started to investigate the crime and eventually solved it. That man will hang next week.”

  “How did you find out who the killer was?”

  “I asked a banker if anyone wanted to buy the Bridges Ranch. He told me about a man who acted very interested, I followed that up, and he confessed.”

  “Amazing.”

  She went on to tell the man about the lazy sheriff and the nonenforcement of the law that allowed a powerful rancher to pursue running off the small ranchers.

  In the end, Albert shook his head. “Pure amazing. I am grateful; this report will save my neck. Thank you very much.”

  “Now eat your breakfast,” Cally said, pointing at his plate. They all three laughed.

  After he finished, Albert politely thanked them, excused himself, and left hurriedly.

  With him gone, Guthrey winked at her. “He first thought you were my daughter.”

  “Oh, Phil, he didn’t say that.” Standing over him, she smothered his face to hers. “That’s terrible.”

  “No, he didn’t. I am a baby stealer. But I love you.”

  “Oh my. You are a devil. What will I do with you?”

  “Put up with me.” They both laughed.

  * * *

  LATER HE WENT to his office and read the three reports on threats by night riders. The incidents involved masked riders with torches. Their numbers ran from six to eight masked men. The attack comprised threatening men milling around and firing pistols off in the air, telling the ranchers to leave the country or face death by being burned out.

  He knew only one of the ranchers who had been threatened. Mark Peters and his wife, Olive, were one of the three families threatened by the masked raiders. The party came to their place after midnight. Mark reported that he was concerned they’d burn him out, waving their pitch torches around. Deputy Baker said he had nothing to prove they’d been there. Nor did Mark recognize any of the riders in the group. They wore flour-sack masks and no hats. He saw no brands on the horses either.

  Guthrey decided to ride out and speak to Mark and Olive. Such raids were a renewal of the past range war and he had no intention of allowing it to happen again. But he’d have to work swiftly to stop it. He called Baker over.

  “There’s no one place they started these raids. Peters lives over on the west end of the Dragoons. This Davis family lives close to the Pima County line, and the other, the Cody family, lives up close to north line near San Carlos. No one saw these men gathering?”

  “No, sir. They must have drifted in and then formed a gang to raid them,” Baker said. “I stopped at every small store and community to see if any strangers had stopped on that day or had ridden by in a group. I learned nothing.”

  “You did good. Last time we knew the enemy and where to start. This time we may be dealing with a smarter man in charge.”

  “Walter Pierson?” Baker asked.

  “Whoever it is who runs that big ranch, I suppose. Who else wants these small ranchers off the range? I am going to go see the Peterses and learn what they think. Then we’ll ride out to talk to Pierson the next day. I’ll get a few deputies to go with me and a search warrant from the judge.”

  “What will we look for?” Baker asked.

  Guthrey said, “Masks, among other things.”

  Baker nodded. “That should point a finger at someone, huh?”

  “Exactly. I had some men prosecuted in the last range war that I arrested because they had flour sack masks in their saddlebags after a raid.”

  “Will Pierson threaten us?”

  “He better not.”

  Baker nodded.

  Guthrey thanked his man and went back to the small jacal to meet his wife.

  “Learn much?” she asked.

  “One of the ranchers threatened was Mark Peters over at the base of the Dragoons. I’m going over there to speak to him and I will likely be back here late.”

  “Should I go home?”

  “No. Tomorrow I am getting a search warrant to inspect the big ranch run by Walter Pierson.”

  “By yourself?”

 
“No, I’ll take some deputies with me.”

  “Good.” She looked relieved by his answer. “I have some beans hot.”

  He looked over the interior of the hut. “Sounds great. But you’re working too hard on cleaning up this dust bowl.”

  “Oh, I’m fine. We did decide to remodel it for our use?” She indicated the hovel.

  “Yes, we have a need for a place over here.”

  “Well, your daughter is getting ready to do that.” She broke into laughter and hugged him.

  “I’m glad she’s doing it. Except we have a sow’s ear to work with. Let’s keep this and just build a house next to it. We have two acres here.”

  “Can I find a contractor while you’re gone?”

  “Sure. I trust you.”

  “Good. I won’t build it until you’re back. We need a windmill too.”

  “I agree. That pumping water gets old.”

  “And a tank and shower.”

  “Go, girl.”

  She hugged him. “Your beans will get cold.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Like I said, I may not be back until late tonight.”

  “I sleep light when you’re gone. Take your time.”

  “Don’t run off with any reporter.”

  “Oh, Phil, he doesn’t mean anything to me.”

  “Darling, I know that. I’m simply being funny.”

  * * *

  AFTER LUNCH HE rode out for the Peters place on Cochise. When he struck the road, the big horse, who was well rested, charged off eastward in the midday heat. He passed through Steward’s Crossing and took the road southwest to the Mormon settlement, then east to the Peters place at the base of the red mountains.

  “Hello, sheriff,” Olive said, coming out on the porch.

  “Evening. Where is Mark?”

  “I expected him to be back by now. He was going to check on his water holes today. Get down, he’ll be here in a short while. I have some supper. We can eat.”

  He stepped down and loosened the latigoes, then hitched Cochise to the rack.

  “My, he’s a loud-colored horse. He looks powerful.”

  “He is all that. How are things going?”