San Rafael Jacked

by Tom Ellis

  The aircraft was flying north now and descending faster. He made another right turn, and the jet bucked upward and abruptly back down. Gaining and losing altitude with each bounce. Now she could see the runway ahead of the aircraft. It seemed they be thrown back up ten feet for every foot the plane descended. Burns was constantly correcting the aircraft to remain on the runway heading. It bumped up and down quickly as the synthetic voice called out 700 feet.

  “Burns,” her voice caught as the jet jolted up again. “Burns if we survive this landing can I redecorate the kitchen?”

  She saw he was smiling. The voice called 300 feet, she missed the 200 call, and then watched the runway coming up fast as she heard 100 feet. Jolene held her breath. The threshold markings were closing fast. Then came the sudden squeal of the tires. Burns greased the Cessna jet on the runway.

  After the roll out they turned off the runway onto the taxiway that takes them to the parking area. A small pickup truck with a large follow sign in bed was waiting on the taxiway to lead them to the ramp.

  Wind buffeted the aircraft when it stopped; Andy shut down the engines. Burns put his cowboy hat firmly on his head, and they deplaned. He gave instructions to the linemen to hanger the Citation and bring him the hanger door keys at the FBO office. Two Hispanic men rode the tow tug pulling the aircraft down the ramp. One said to the other in Spanish something that translates: ‘I told you only a loco vaquero could land a jet in this wind.’

  After transacting the business of getting his airplane housed and signed the papers for the rental SUV, Burns and Hadfield rode back to the hanger and entered it via a parking lot door. She watched as Burns loaded all his equipment into the ample storage area of the Nissan Armada 4X4 the rental company had sent.

  Nogales AZ is not a large city. Burns and Hadfield managed to check into their motel and drive to a Mexican restaurant within thirty minutes of leaving the airport. Russell and Cruz met them at the restaurant. Having met Buddy and his family several years before Hadfield enjoyed getting reacquainted. She found Bernie ‘Burrito’ Cruz delightfully charming. They hit it off immediately. Now and then she would call Burns Cowboy and wondered if she were offending him. Hearing the two westerners refer to him by that handle was surreal. By the time lunch was over the two high desert rats had given her the moniker of Miz Jo. She wasn’t sure if she would buy a house or a car from either one of them. But she liked these two former cops.

  At Burns insistence, they went to Cruz’s used car lot. Parked at the rear of the lot was an old one-ton dual wheel pickup with faded paint numerous dents and one fender a mismatched color. The other was primer and hood another color still. One of rear wheel flares was an odd color also. When Cruz noticed Burns looking over the truck he moseyed up beside him and asked. “Whatcha thinking?”

  “The same thing you are. Some Vaquero will buy it as it sets. And with that in mind, I’ll give you one-quarter of your asking price to lease it while we’re here. You can bring it to the casita after we check in at the Double B.”

  “That works, we’ll settle up on it when we get this debacle sorted out.

  “Thank you. If that beat up horse trailer in the back will still roll and haul horses, hook it up and bring it along. Same deal.”

  The lunch meeting went on longer than expected. Russell and Cruz cited previous commitments and could not make the trip to the Double B. Russell phoned Carson Bell the Double B owner and arranged for Andy and Jolene to visit the following morning. The foursome agreed to meet for dinner that evening and compare notes.

  Chapter Ten

  After an early breakfast, Andy and Jolene’s body clocks were still a couple of hours ahead of Arizona time. Burns explained the state did not recognize daylight savings time. While it was in the Mountain Time Zone, Arizona was a time zone unto its self. Jolene enjoyed the morning coolness and the scenic drive. She insisted on stopping to read every historical marker. When they entered Patagonia Arizona, Burns made her happy by cruising the two main streets and a couple of side streets before they followed the two-lane highway south out of town. Soon the paving road turned to dirt and slowed their progress. Hadfield was like a kid pointing out things she had never seen. Before long a wooden sign appeared with an arrow pointing the way to the San Rafael Valley. A few minutes later Burns stopped the SUV, and they got out of the vehicle. Hadfield stood speechless for several moments as she took in the vista before her. Burns walked around the Armada and stood next to her.

  “Oh my gosh, Andy this place is beautiful beyond belief!” She turned and hugged Burns kissing him on the lips. Jolene squeezed him tight and broke the embrace. “Thank you, thank you so much for bringing me out here to see this.” Hadfield kissed him again this time on the cheek. “You’ve given up shaving I see.”

  Burns ignored the comment.

  “Of the parts of this world I’ve seen, I believe God did some of His best work in the American West. This valley is one of His lesser known masterpieces. It is one of the few high desert low grass prairies left. It is a unique ecosystem. Lois Thornton was right when said you could get hung for talking about subdividing this valley. Right now it has a blight and cleaning it up won’t be easy or politically correct.”

  A little while after they got back in the car, they passed another sign post. This one had wooden signs pointing in the direction of various ranches. Jolene smiled broadly at that one saying. “This is not Biloxi Mississippi Andy Burns.”

  Burns laughed at that one. “It has more lights after sundown. They are a bit higher off the ground and don’t run on electricity. Here’s our turn.” He turned into a road marked with another wooden sign. It read Double B Headquarters and had an arrow pointing up the dirt road.

  After about a half a mile they crested a slight rise and spotted a tranquil homestead nestled in a stand of cottonwood trees. A house and several large outbuildings. As they got closer, the pipe corrals begin to emerge from the landscape. Unusual was a large white truck. Its size made Jolene think of a moving van. She realized the white truck was the motor home Burns agreed to purchase. Burns parked the Armada next to a picket fence that protected the yard of the ranch house. He and Jolene got out of the SUV. A tall, lanky man came out of the house. He wore faded jeans and a light colored western shirt. Complete with fake pearl buttons. He put a cowboy hat on his head as he stepped off the porch. What Jolene could see of his bushy hair, it was mostly white, and his weathered face was clean shaven.

  “Hello, you folks must be Andrew Burns and Jolene Hadfield. I am Carson Bell. Welcome to the Double B and the San Rafael.” He extended his hand to Jolene first and removed his hat. “Thank you Mr. Bell your valley is awesome.” She said.

  Bell replaced his hat and shook hands with Burns. Turning back to Jolene he said, “God blessed my family, and now He blessed me with the temporary care of His valley. Ms. Hadfield while we ranchers have deeds and such that proclaim us owners of this prairie. We are just very lucky caretakers of it until the next generation comes along.

  “Two of my father’s great uncles held the original Spanish land grant. They expanded the ranch over the years. When they passed on, the ranch went to my Dad and my Aunt and Uncle. It was passed down to my older brother and me when Dad passed. This valley did not call my Aunt or my sister. Dad and my Uncle bought out Aunt May, and Dad left my sister with a financial inheritance. Len, my brother and myself changed the name and re-registered a brand. Len and his wife ran the place. I ran to the wild blue yonder. I am a retired Air Force officer. Len’s son died in a horse wreck. My late wife and I were childless. My sister has daughters, and they have visited once in their life. So now it is just me. I have two hands and a Mexican housekeeper and her husband. One of my hands came from the Rocking H Bar. Come on up to the porch where we can sit and talk.”

  They reached the porch and Carson introduced Estella Morales. She greeted them in good but accented English and offered fresh coffee. Burns and Hadfield accepted the offer and took seats in old but comfortable chairs on th
e shaded porch. Jolene could envision generations of cowboys in these same chairs with their boots propped up on the porch rail.

  “So you grew up here Mr. Bell?” Jolene asked.

  “I did, and I graduated high school I went to the University of Arizona in Tucson, ROTC, and the Air Force for twenty years. I’m a retired a Colonel. I flew O2A’s in Viet Nam and then T-45’s until I retired. I understand from Buddy Russell you came out here in your plane Mr. Burns. What do you fly? And, I am Carson, not Mr. Bell not Colonel just Carson.”

  “I’m Jolene, Carson. And I enjoyed the background lesson.”

  “Your welcome. I didn’t want to bore you. But I feel like my guests need to know something about this ranch and the valley.”

  “And I thank you for the background lesson. Please call me Andy or Burns either one works. We came out in a Citation.

  “A CITATION! Burns you’re sitting on my porch looking like a cowboy about to beg for a job. And you tell me you flew out here in a Citation. One of those jet shares or something?”

  “I lease it to one of those services when I don’t need it. It is single pilot rated, so it is demand somewhat. I wouldn’t have it if the company that used to own it had done a timeshare lease instead of buying a jet. That aircraft is one of the prime reasons my accountant thought the company was a good buy. Of course, the accountant figured we would sell the airplane. Between my using it and leasing it to the time share service, it breaks even cost wise and turned a small profit last year. The company that formally owned it has shown a nice profit now that their executives fly commercial. It turned out to be a good deal. Jo likes the jet because it has a bathroom.”

  “Burns that is enough,” Jolene said.

  “Andy, Buddy Russell tells me he’s known you since you were a border patrolman out here. And he said you are a retired cop, did you win a lottery or something?”

  An old friend of mine, Charlie Raifield had passed away unexpectedly a few years ago. Charlie left me a considerable amount of money three airplanes and a square mile in Baldwin County Alabama. He taught me how to fly twenty years before I retired. I would commute to his place in a Super Cub. He kept it parked at an airport close to where I lived so I could fly to his place on the coast. We would get in the Cessna twin and fly to rifle matches all over the southeast.”

  “Russell did say you came into some money. He didn’t say how. He also says you are one of the best horsemen he knows.”

  “I’ve ridden a horse.”

  “He said that was the answer I could expect.”

  Andy didn’t answer; he gave Carson Bell the slight smile pleasant look. The old rancher continued.

  “You and your lady are going to be living here a few months. So I need to tell you a few more things. First, I’m sure Russell told you the casita has a barn and pipe corral turnouts. Horses are usually welcome over there. Right now there is quarter horse stud living in that barn along with a border collie. Estella’s husband Miguel takes care of them. Which amounts to putting out feed and hay and not much else. The horse and dog are dangerous.”

  “More so than any other stud horse?”

  “Yes, let me tell the story.

  “The horse and dog belong to an old friend of mine. I’ve known Lyon Hamilton since grade school. Lyon and the late Manny Collazo from Cochise County were the best horsemen in southern Arizona.”

  The mention of Hamilton’s name peaked Burns and Hadfield’s interests. Neither one gave any tell that might have indicated they knew about Lyon Hamilton.

  “I knew Manny Collazo; I bought a horse from him while I lived in Cochise County. I hated to hear he passed away.” Burns said.

  “Yeah, Manny went downhill after his daughter was murdered. Cancer is what got him. I think after his daughter’s death he didn’t have the will to fight.

  “Back in the winter, almost four months ago, Lyon’s stallion galloped up to this house one evening about dust. His Border Collie was following right behind him. I’ve never seen that horse so lathered up. He was under full tack, saddle still cinched tight, bridle and bit in his mouth. Both the horse and dog needed water bad. Miguel, Estelle’s husband, came out and took them to the barn. He was able to get the tack off Cam and put him in a turn out pen. Jazz stayed with the horse. Cam would not let Miguel brush him down. Neither Jazz or Cam would not let any of us near them. Lyon’s saddle sat on the fence rail with the tack hanging on the horn. If we got near it, both of them would charge the fence.

  “I came inside and tried to call Lyon’s house. I gave up after thirty or so rings and got in my truck and drove other there. I took my hand Butter Billy Three with me. When we got on the ranch road a rough looking hombre with an AK 47 rifle was standing in the middle of the road. He said Lyon Hamilton didn’t live there anymore, and we needed to turn around and leave. I did. Got back here and called the sheriff’s department. Best they could do according to the dispatcher was have a deputy come by and talk to me the next morning. I knew something was wrong.

  “Deputy Willie Hillman showed up the next morning. That jackass is a real piece of work. He told me he’d been to the Rocking H Bar and that Lyon Hamilton had sold the property fair and square. Hillman said he had seen a quick claim deed, and as far as he was concerned it was legal, and there was not a problem. I asked where Lyon Hamilton was, and Willie Hillman grinned like a lecher and said he went to the Fiji Islands. I asked about the horse and dog. Hillman grinned again and said my new neighbor said I could have them as a gift. He also said I was warned not to go over there again. I asked about Lyon’s cattle and the other horses. I was told not to worry about it. Hillman left.”

  “Did he make a report?” Jolene asked.

  “No, he said he would note the contact on his activity report. The sheriff’s office will not let you have copies of those reports without a subpoena. And the sheriff himself told me he would have the county attorney fight any subpoena my lawyer might get. Other words it was none of my business.” Bell shook his head. His weather-beaten face showed the despair the rancher felt.

  “What about the cattle and the other horses,” Burns asked.

  “Well a couple of days later TR, that’s Tobias Rutledge, he was Lyon’s hand, showed up here pulling his trailer with both of his horses in it and all his belongings. He had been up to Prescott visiting family for a few days. When he came back, he got the rifle treatment. But it was daylight, and he was crazy enough to demand his horses and gear. Surprisingly some older guy who acted like he was in charge came out. He told TR he was the new owner, and he’d been expecting him. TR said a thug went with him to the bunkhouse and watched him while he collected his gear. TR said his rifle was missing. A few minutes later a thug returned with his 30-30 and told him he could have it when he started out the driveway. TR loaded up his gear and horses. The so-called new owner came out and handed him the rifle. The lever was open, and the man gave TR the bullets and told him not to load it again until he cleared the gate. He asked TR about the other horses on the property and TR told him they were boarders, and there was a list in Lyons office. TR asked about the cattle, and the guy told him not to worry about them, and it was time for him to leave.

  “We’ve watched the place from the forest service roads the cattle knocked down the cross fencing to get to more grass. There a were a couple of water tanks they could use. But if the windmill went down the water wouldn’t have lasted long. I’ve got most of the board horses over here now. I’m not exactly in that business, but I couldn’t turn those folks away.”

  “How many head of cattle are we talking about?” Burns asked.

  “Lyon kept around seventy-five head. Here is the interesting part, the new owner showed up over here a month after Cam showed up. He said he knew I had been taking in the board horses, and he wanted to offer me a deal on the cattle. His name is Bradford, and he claimed we had met several months before at a Tucson casino bar. I remember someone who I think was him. I go up there every month. What this fellow Bradford offered was my ha
nds take care of the cattle on the Rocking H Bar. In turn, he would give me fifty percent of the proceeds from the sale. Bradford was adamant that my men stay away from the ranch headquarters area.”

  “Did you take him up on his offer?”

  “Yes and when Butter Billy and TR go over there, someone is always watching from a distance. They ride around on ATV’s. None of them approach my hands, but they watch. Something is going on over there. Willie Hillman, the deputy, is in and out. That bastard is as crooked as they come. So he’s getting paid off.”

  “Interesting,” Burns said. “When we go over to the casita make sure to show me the property lines. I don’t want to wander on to that ranch by mistake.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you know where you can and can’t go.”

  “Carson, this Cam you speak of is the horse?” Jolene asked.

  “Yes, Cam is short for Don Cameron of Lochiel, the horse's registered name. Colin Cameron was one of the early ranchers in this valley, and he named Lochiel for someplace in Scotland. The folks called him Don because of the size of original ranch. And Jazz is the border collie; he is Jazzman of Lochiel.”

  “If Cam is so obnoxious how do you get him from here to the casita?” Burns asked.

  “When we started getting the board horses, some of them are mares. I didn’t want to have to deal with Cam and mares in heat. Miguel figured out a clever way to move the horse. He backed the old jeep truck into the barn and stopped it next to the rail where the saddle was. He tied a rope to the gate latch. When the horse and dog were eating, he snatched the saddle off the rail and put in the truck bed. He ran and got in the cab and opened the gate with the rope. Cam and the dog followed the truck over the ranch roads to the casita. Miguel reversed the operation at the barn there. TR had already put out hay and feed in the turnout. He opened a gate using a rope when Miguel drove past it. The horse ran into the turnout, and TR closed the gate. Miguel hung the saddle over the fence, and that was that.”