Trail to Cottonwood Falls

by Ralph Compton

  “Oh, Senor. You are all right,” she said from around the kitchen door, looking relieved.

  “Yes, ma’am, and I’m glad to be here.”

  “The Bradys?” Unita asked.

  “Run off before we got there, I guess. Got two men killed—” He dropped his head and shook it warily. “And several outlaws were also killed, but the Bradys got away or had left the day before we got there.”

  He nodded that that was it, and busied himself washing his hands and face on the porch. Then he followed her inside.

  Unita closed the door, then looked him in the eye as if she shared his loss. “I’m sorry. The trip must have been hell.” She took his coat and hat to put on a peg.

  “One of those things.” He finally shrugged and slid onto a bench at the sight of Rosa coming with a plate full of food.

  “One thing I missed the most,” he said to the Mexican woman. “You two and your cooking.”

  She clapped him on the shoulder. “We missed you too, Senor Ed.”

  “I don’t know why.” He grinned at them and the three of them laughed.

  “I only have three bunches of cattle signed up so far for the drive,” Unita confided to him as he slowly chewed the rich-tasting food. “Mine, yours, and Tina’s uncle’s.”

  “I’ll make some rounds. There’s more out there. I’m sure you can leave here with two thousand head, and cover most of our costs with their cattle.”

  “They don’t think a woman can get them there.”

  His fork poised with slow-cooked roast beef on the tines, he looked at her. Damn bunch of fools anyway. “I’ll talk to ’em.”

  “Good,” she said.

  After a hot bath and a shave, full of food, he felt better lounging in overalls while his own clothes dried. Heat from her fireplace radiated in his face as he stood in front of it and considered all that lay ahead. It was even cold in Texas.

  “What will you do for Christmas?” she asked, joining him.

  “Hadn’t even thought about it. Sorry, I’ve been on my own so long without family—it’s kind of another day.”

  “I’m getting the crew some little things like jack-knives.”

  “I’ll get my bunch at the ranch some things.”

  “In town they’re getting some ripe oranges in for Christmas. You want some for them?”

  “Sure, order me some.”

  “Two sacks?”

  “Be fine. I need to ride over there in the morning and be sure I still have the ranch.”

  “May I go along?”

  He looked across the table at her. “Sure.”

  She smiled as if that pleased her. “You must be healed.”

  “That damn stage didn’t shake me loose, so I should be all right. Guess I should move back over there. Don’t look good, what with me—I mean—”

  With her left hand she pushed the curls back from her face, and then shook her head. “I don’t care who thinks what.”

  “That’s plumb generous of you.”

  “Ed Wright—” She looked him square in the eye. “We have lots of business to do to get ready. I’m counting on you to show me the way. Stay here. Jorge has things under control. In fact, I wanted to know if Rusty and the boys that I leave here can help him at spring roundup while we’re gone.”

  “He’d appreciate that. I know them big ranchers run over him some at those deals when I ain’t there, and having a gringo partner might help him hold his own better.”

  She checked the kitchen door, then turned back to face him and, in a low voice, asked, “Are you tired of sleeping in the shed?”

  He closed his eyes and shook his head, then reached across and clasped her hands. “I ain’t through fighting demons. Shed’s fine.”

  She bowed her head and accepted his words. “Stay here as long as you want. We have lots to do and I need your help.”

  “I agree. We’ll ride over in the morning and check on Jorge, then we can swing by town and I’ll look up some of those guys who have cattle to ship.”

  “Sounds like a deal.” Her face brightened.

  “How far away is Christmas?”

  “Two weeks. There’s a ball at the schoolhouse—” Her shielded expectation didn’t fool him.

  “We’ll go if you want your toes stepped on.”

  “Oh, I’ve seen you dance before.”

  “Not ever sober.”

  She laughed. “You might even be a better dancer sober.”

  He didn’t know if he could dance without liquor, but he’d try.

  Chapter 18

  Tina rushed out and beamed at them when they rode up. The small, pert-looking Mexican woman acted as excited to see that Unita was with him. Tina told him the men were at the big tank north of the ranch house, and he told the two women to have a nice visit and rode out to see about the men. He doubted that they’d even miss him, they were so busy talking to each other.

  Jorge smiled his handsome grin when he rode up. The large stone tank had been drained and the three—Jorge, Ramon, and Raphael—were inside it, looking at a large crack in the masonry.

  “It was losing so much water,” Jorge explained when he dismounted and stood outside the wall.

  Ed agreed. “After you cement that crack, let it dry good before you refill it.”

  “Sίί. There is water in the creeks for the cattle from the rains, so I thought to fix it now was a good thing.”

  “Sure is. No trouble?”

  “No, everything she goes good.”

  “Good. Senora Nance’s offered to have Rusty and her men help you some at roundup while we’re gone.”

  “Oh, sίί, that would be good. Some of those men think I work for them and not for you.”

  “I know. That’s why I wanted Rusty to help you. We need to start bunching our older steers in one area after Christmas and the New Year. I figure we’ve got those few hundred head to go up there.”

  “Sίί, there should be that many, and we can do that.”

  “You want to go to Mexico over the holidays?” Ed asked him.

  Jorge’s smile gave him away before he even spoke. “Oh, yes, to be with my people down there would be very nice.”

  “I’ll stay over here with Ramon and Raphael, and you can take the little ones and Tina home.”

  “Gracias.”

  “No, you are a good man for me. Be sure to come back.”

  Jorge laughed. “We will.”

  After the noon meal at Tina’s, Ed and Unita rode their horses into Banty and stopped by at the store to reserve their oranges. Ed picked up a new shirt, gallowses, and britches to wear to the ball, and got a grin of approval from her. She threw a new black silk vest on the pile he’d started on the counter.

  “You can use that too.”

  “Hmm,” he said, appraising it. “I may look like some dandy in all that.”

  She chuckled and shook her head in amusement. “No, you’ll still have that floppy-brimmed hat.”

  “Mr. Ed, would you like to look at a new hat?” James Lee, the tall youth behind the counter, asked.

  “Guess if I’m going to the ball I better have one.” A glance aside at her and he saw her nod of approval.

  After trying on several, he settled for an ash gray Boss of the Plains with silk binding on the brim. It cost six bucks, and he shook his head while signing the ticket for all his things. About then she leaned over close and whispered, “You’ll be the best-dressed one there.”

  He acknowledged her words. He’d also be the fanciest one, too—and that made him a little fretful. But with her on his arm going in that schoolhouse door, they could all gossip and be jealous as much as they wanted to be—he’d not give a damn.

  They were headed out of the store when he saw Biff Tyler ride in on a big dun horse and dismount across the street at the Minnie Ha Ha Saloon. He turned and gave her his armload of things and said, “Hold this.”

  “Don’t—” barely peeled off her lips, but his somber head shake forced her to nod that she unders
tood.

  “Hang that hogleg on the saddle horn,” Ed ordered Tyler, and stepped off the porch, ready to undo his own.

  “Well, if it ain’t that damned old drunk, Ed Wright,” Tyler sneered and undid his buckle like he’d been ready to do that. “I just love the fact I’m going to kick your ass in public this time.”

  His holster off and rebuckled, Ed looped his rig over the horn. “You ain’t going to be doing much more than eating dirt today, Tyler.”

  Tyler snickered as he stripped off his fine, embroidered vest and then hung it and his flat-brim hat over the gun. “You’re going to be riding a pony again when I get through with you.”

  “Like hell,” Ed said, moving in a circle with his dukes up and ready.

  “Here, have this!” Tyler charged in, but instead of hitting his opponent he missed, and Ed landed three quick jabs to Tyler’s chin that forced him backward.

  With Tyler retreating, Ed moved in and slammed him hard in the face. That force sprawled him into the hitch rack. His horse spooked, breaking the reins, and distracted him enough that Ed freight lined two hard fists to his gut, which drove the air out of him. With Tyler seated on his butt, Ed gave him a swift kick to the ribs and sent him sprawling with a sharp cry of pain.

  With Tyler’s shirt collar in his hand, he dragged him over to the water tank and stuck his head under the suface. He might just drown the sumbitch. Then he jerked him up. “You had enough?”

  “Hell—”

  Ed cut off his protests by slamming him back under the surface.

  “Don’t! Don’t! You’ll kill him!” Unita shouted, breaking his concentration.

  With a shake of his head in disgust, Ed at last pulled the flailing Tyler up. Sputtering and coughing up water, Tyler indicated he’d had enough.

  “Next time I hear you’ve rode over there and cussed her out, I’ll kill you like the low-life dog you are.”

  “I—hear—you.”

  “Good, cause I’ll gut shoot you and leave you to die.” Ed started to go, then his anger gathered up again. He whirled and kicked Tyler so hard in the chest that he lifted him off the ground with a groan.

  Unita had Ed by the arm and forcefully dragged him away from the coughing and gagging foreman. Her face was black with anger. Ed submitted to her moving him, but he still wanted more revenge, recalling his own beating at Tyler’s hands.

  James Lee held all of Ed’s purchases in his arms for them. “Whew, you sure beat him up.”

  “About halfway—” Ed looked back and scowled at Tyler, still on his knees and coughing at the edge of the horse tank across the dusty street. None of the shocked-face onlookers that fell out on the boardwalk to see the excitement even ran to the man’s aid. Showed Ed how much Tyler was disliked in the small town.

  “You ready to go?” she asked in a cold voice.

  “Yes, ma’am.” His gun belt on, he took the packages from James Lee and thanked the clerk.

  In the saddle, he rode out of there with her, ignoring the rest.

  “You could have killed him,” she said under her breath at the edge of town.

  “He needed killing.”

  She shook her head in dismay and they rode several miles in silence. When she at last spoke, it was very direct. “I suppose you don’t think Crabtree won’t extract some kind of revenge on you for beating up his man.”

  “He’ll have to hire it done.”

  “He can do that.”

  “He sics any dogs on me he better be certain they kill me. Cause I’ll damn sure go look for him in the end, too.”

  Twisted in the saddle, she frowned at him. “You can’t kill everyone.”

  “I don’t aim to, but I will if they try me.”

  “What is this get-even business that makes men like you so rabid?”

  “Must have been born inside us.”

  “I can’t understand it.”

  “I’m sorry, but every day I had to catch my breath getting on and off a horse, and the fact that he kicked me so hard, it knifed me.”

  “Goaded you on.”

  “Right.”

  “Now he’s busted up and going to come looking for you.”

  Ed shook his head. “He don’t want to lose his fancy looks. Tyler picks his fights with those he can whip.”

  She obviously didn’t agree but went on, “I didn’t want war with Crabtree.”

  “It’s my war and any man talks that nasty to a woman in Texas needs to be either horsewhipped or hung.”

  “Well, you did not find anyone to ship cattle with us—today.”

  “No, but I sure evened up one deal.” He juggled the packages to rub his skinned knuckles. They’d be sore.

  She booted Star in close to the roan and took the hatbox from him. “I’ll put some alcohol on those cuts and wrap your hands when we get back to the ranch.”

  He shook his head and smiled at her. Yes, mother—now I’ve sure got me one.

  After breakfast the next day he set out for Billie Miller’s. The short ex-corporal from his outfit in Mississippi lived on Lovell Creek. He arrived at midmorning and scattered a dozen large shoats that were bedded down beside the creek. They grunted as if pissed off that he’d even come by and upset their mud bathing.

  Billie came out on the porch of his ramshackle house, putting up his suspenders and squinting to see who he was.

  “Corporal Miller?”

  “Damn right, Sarge. Hey, man, what you doing back up here?” Billie spat tobacco off the edge of the porch and turned back. “It’s Sarge, and he’s sober, Ida Mae!”

  “Well invite him in. Land’s sakes, ain’t you got no manners?” A small woman without any front teeth rushed out and grinned big. “Get down. Get down.”

  “I can’t stay long. Ida Mae Nance’s outfit’s taking steers north to Kansas in March. I come by to see if you all want to put some in.”

  Billie looked at Ida Mae as if uncomfortable, then back at Ed. “I don’t put much truck in her taking my cattle and losing them.”

  “I understand, but who else you got?”

  “Terrance Crabtree’s talking like he’ll take ’em.”

  “Crabtree? He ain’t never been north of Fort Worth.”

  “Oh, he’s got some guy going to head it up. Name’s Luther.”

  Ed nodded. “What’s he want to drive them up there?”

  “Half,” Billie said.

  “Kinda high ain’t it? He wants half the cattle he starts with, or half those he gets there with?”

  Billie scratched his rumpled hair. “I guess half he leaves with.”

  “You signed that deal yet?”

  “Why?”

  “ ’Cause if you have you can bet he won’t get there with very many of ‘your cattle.’ ”

  “I never liked the deal in the first place,” Ida Mae said, and folded her arms over her small bustline.

  “Well, Frank Hogan said it was the only way for us to get anything out of them.”

  “Frank knows better than that.”

  “He’s made a deal with Crabtree when we came back from San Antone after you said you wasn’t going back again. We all kinda went along with him.”

  “We’s got to have some cash.” Ida Mae shifted from one foot to the other. “Or we’ll lose this place, and all the fixtures we worked so damn hard on here.”

  Ed couldn’t see much of value in the rusty tin and gray weathered-board shack and outbuildings, with the rundown corrals of rails, but it wasn’t his place, either. He squatted on his boot heels and listened to her go on about their hard times, agreeing with them through nods.

  “I understand, but Mrs. Nance is offering to split the cost with the outfits per head that get there.”

  “What if she loses them all?” Billie asked.

  “Ain’t no worse off than Crabtree’s deal. You’re taking all the loss with him. It won’t cost half the cattle to get there, anyway.”

  “I heard you was going to be her guide?”

  “I am.”

 
Billie was rubbing his palms up and down the sides of his pants. “Damn it, Sarge, what about my neighbors? Will they think I walked out on them?”

  “That’s your business. I can find other cattle to go north. I just wanted you boys in on the ground floor, before I go looking for others.”

  “Guess she needs to know.” He looked over at Ida Mae. “Well, what do you think?”

  “We better go up and see her in the morning. Thanks for coming by. I’ll make us some dinner.” She looked at Ed for his answer to her offer.

  “No, thanks, I better ride on. I’ve got lots of folks to see about. But thanks, Ida Mae.” He stuck out his hand to Billie. No way was he eating Ida Mae’s cooking. “Thanks, she’ll be looking for you.”

  Wamp Kaiser was next on the list. Ed made his place in midafternoon. His wife, Olga, came out in a checkered dress with a shape like a beer barrel and spoke in a heavy, accented, deep voice.

  “Vot jew vant?”

  “Wamp here?”

  She continued in her “v” version of English. “I don’t know where he is, but I can ring the bell and he will come.” That done, she asked if he drank his coffee with cream.

  “Black’s fine,” he said.

  The loud peals brought Wamp on the run, and she delivered them steaming dark coffee and some delicate pastry on a tray. Wamp talked about the Crabtree deal. After Ed explained Unita’s deal, the dark-headed man in his thirties smiled in relief.

  “We be up there in next two days, save us lots of money, huh?” the German rancher said.

  “It’ll help,” Ed said, and left them after the midafternoon treat.

  He returned to the Bar U satisfied they’d have plenty of cattle committed in the next few days. The word was out. He dropped off the roan at the saddle shed and began to pull the latigos loose to unsaddle him.

  “Well?” Unita asked, joining him.

  “I talked to some today. Your old buddy Crabtree is heading up a bunch he has consigned. It’s about as good a deal as McGregor, or maybe worse.”

  “So? So?” She stepped back to let him go by to put his saddle and pads inside on the rack.

  “We’ll see how I did in the next couple of days.” He put the roan in the corral.

  “What do you think?”

  “I’m not certain.”