Hell's Gate (Ben Blue Book 8) Read online

  Hell’s Gate

  By Lou Bradshaw

  Text Copyright © 2016 L E Bradshaw

  Cover Art Copyright © 2016 L E Bradshaw

  Hell’s Gate is a work of fiction, and is not intended to depict any person or event. It is purely a product of the author’s imagination. All rights reserved and it may not be reproduced in any form without written permission from the author or his representative, except for small portions for the purpose of literary reviews.

  Dedication

  I’m dedicating this book to the memory of my late father in law, Bernard S. Thomas for his service in the skies over Nazi Germany in a B-17. I’m sure he thought he was looking into the gates of hell many times on those flights.

  Books on Kindle by Lou Bradshaw

  Westerns:

  Ben Blue Series:

  1) Hickory Jack

  2) Blue

  3) Ace High

  4) Blue Norther

  5) One Man Standing

  6) Rubio… the Legend

  7) Spirit Valley

  8) Hell’s Gate

  Shad Cain Series:

  1) Cain

  2) Cain…Just Cain

  3) Driftin’

  JL Tate Series:

  1) JL Tate… Texas Ranger

  Humor: A Fine Kettle of Fish

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 1

  “Someone comes, Benito.” Delgado said as he pointed in the direction of the house, “He comes mui pronto.”

  He and I had been looking over some of the yearlings in the north horse pasture. I turned and saw the dust from a rider coming our way, and he wasn’t holding anything back. If he was coming that hard, the least I could do was meet him half way and save a few minutes. Giving Smoke a little bit of spur was all that was needed to raise a little dust of our own.

  As we closed the gap I could see by the style that it was Mike Flynn. He had learned to ride in Ireland and often rode as a jockey. When in a hurry, he was wont to putting his feet in the straps above the stirrups and ride in a crouch and forward. That would take the weight off the animal’s back and put it over the shoulders. He handled it well, but the others wouldn’t even try.

  We came together in a cloud of dust, each of us creating more dust pulling to a halt. I turned to rein up to him as he waved his hat to clear the dust.

  “Blue! It’s old Sam… he collapsed… Yer misses sent Johnny Tolivrr to fetch the doc and me to fetch you.”

  “Did something get him upset, or did he just keel over?”

  “Don’t know, Squire… I was cleanin’ stalls when she came runnin’ out. But Charlie Clark had just come in.”

  “That’s trouble… don’t try to keep up, but come along.”

  If Charlie had come in, and Sam had collapsed, that told me that there was trouble on the S bar S. Sam was the owner, and Charlie was ranch manager for both the Esses and the Rocking J. So if there was trouble on one, chances are that there was trouble on the other.

  I was only a few miles from the house and covered them in short order. Throwing the reins over the hitch rail, I went through the front entrance and straight to the central patio, where I found Charlie pacing back and forth on the flagstones.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “Ben, I had to bring him some bad news, and he just sat down and slumped. I got him to his couch and ran to get Patty Anne… I think he had a stroke… He didn’t seem to be able to do much.”

  “What’s the bad news?”

  “Patty Anne’s waitin’ for you, Ben. We can talk about it when the doc gets here. Nothin’ we can do right now.”

  “You’re right, Charlie. There’s little I can do at times like this, but she seems to like me close by and handy.”

  I made my way to Sam’s wing of the house. He had three rooms and his own veranda. It kept him close enough to the rest of the family and gave him an escape when the youngens got a bit too rowdy.

  When I went through his door, Patty Anne was sitting on the small table that was meant to be a resting place for books and such. Usually it was a resting place for Sam’s pipe, tobacco, and coffee mug, although I’ve seen a boot or too resting there. The table was pulled up next to the couch, so she wasn’t more than a few inches from him.

  Looking up as I came into the room she said, “Ben, thank God you’re here.”

  She had been bathing his face with cold water, for want of anything better to do. There was no fever, no blood, or sign of snake bite, so there was nothing to doctor. At least there wasn’t anything we knew to do, so we just made him comfortable and waited. I was sure Patty Anne had been praying a plenty.

  Old Sam was her grandfather and just about the only family she could remember. Her folks were killed when a runaway team turned their buckboard over. Her grandmother didn’t live long enough to see Patty Anne to reach her fifth birthday. So Sam had been mother, father, grandma, and grandpa all wrapped up in a tough little old rancher, with the help of a few good Mexican cooks.

  I gave Patty Anne a shoulder to weep on, and then I sent her to watch for the doctor. She needed to take a few minutes away and catch her breath. Right then she was a ball of nerves and dreads… she needed to wash her face and lay down for a little bit. But I knew she’d fuss with the two little ones instead. At least it would take her mind off her fears for a few minutes.

  “She gone, Ben?” Sam whispered as he opened his right eye no more than a crack. “Whachs happened?”

  “You had some sort of seizure, Sam… Kinda like a stroke maybe… the doc’s on his way.”

  “At leasht I didn’t die… did I?”

  “Not that I can tell… What was the bad news Charlie Clark brought?”

  “Ohhh.” He groaned. “Thachs whach thish all about… Better call Charlie in here.”

  I stepped out on the patio and motioned Charlie inside. He came in and sat down on the same low table that Patty Anne had used.

  “What’s goin’ on Charlie… It must be pretty serious to knock him down that way?”

  “It is that, Ben… and more. You know we shipped three thousand head from both ranches, cross country to Junction City over in San Juan County. Rancher from Colorado was building a spread near there. Everything went well. The rancher was happy and he paid in cash money.”

  “The crew had already started home, except for Buck Blaylock and three good men for support. They weren’t five miles out of town when they were bushwhacked and robbed. Two men were shot to pieces, and Buck nearly died. Sandy Corbel took a bullet across the skull. They must have thought he was dead. A miracle he ain’t.”

  “He got Buck back to town and to a fella that knows a little doctorin’. He may or may not make it. Corbel nearly killed a horse catchin’ up to the rest of the crew. They sent Smokey Johnson ahead with two extra horses. Two of the men went back to watch over Buck and wait for orders.”

  “Ben… neither ranch can afford to take that kind of loss.”

  “Let’s not worry about that right now… Are
Sandy and the rest back in yet… or just Johnson?”

  “Just Smokey, the others are about three days out.”

  “I suppose he’s plumb worn to a nub and probably sleepin’ right now, but I’d like to talk to him as soon as possible. I’ve got to go send a telegraph to Santa Fe.”

  I turned to go tell Patty Anne what had happened, and nearly stepped on her. She was standing just inside the door. Any husband worth the title can tell when his wife has gone beyond sorrow and fear and moved on to cold vengeful anger.

  Someone was responsible for her grandfather’s condition, and they had killed at least two men she had known personally. If that wasn’t enough, they had dumped a financial burden on people she really cared about… somebody would have to pay one way or another.

  “The doctor just rode in.” She said as she pulled me out the door.

  “Ben… Will Grampa and the Tucker girls lose their ranches?”

  “No, we can keep them going, but it would be hard to recover that much of a loss.”

  “Are you sending word to Marshal Stewart?”

  “I am, but I don’t know if he’ll go along with me goin’ as a Marshal.”

  “What’ll you do if he doesn’t?”

  “I’ll go as a private citizen…be less paperwork involved.”

  “You taking anyone with you?”

  “Flynn will want to go, and if Grayson can spare him, I’ll ask Pinó… they don’t come much tougher than those two.”

  About that time, the doctor came in through the kitchen, and Maria was showing him to the patio. Johnny Toliver never used the front door, so when he delivered the doctor, he brought him to the back door. Patty Anne took him to Sam’s apartment. I went to check on the two little ones and went out to talk to Flynn.

  “Just wonderin’ what a good Irishman would rather do… Would he rather go off on a long trail halfway across New Mexico and stand a good chance of gettin’ some lead under his hide, or would he prefer to stay here and muck stalls?”

  “Well, Squire, that depends if he’s a true Irishman year round or just on St. Paddy’s Day. A true son of the sod would go half way across the continent for a fight… if there was a chance of some Englishmen on the other side.”

  “I can’t guarantee there’ll be any real Englishmen there, but there’ll be some who speak English.”

  “Close enough, Squire… when do we leave?”

  “Right after breakfast…What about Pinó Vascion? You think he’d like a ride?”

  “I don’t know, but I’d doubt it. He’s as tough as most anyone, but he’s a quiet one. If it was MB money… he’d be the first to stand in line, but he’s got no attachments to the other ranchers…he’s a strange one, he is.”

  “That’s alright; don’t say anything to him about it, there’s a pair of Rocking J boys up there. We’ll just hope that’s enough.”

  I left him to get his gear ready, while I went back inside to talk to Charlie. It struck me, I hadn’t spent enough time with Pinó. I hired him because he was a tough and competent hand. I knew he would fight for the ranch, but I couldn’t ask him to go off and maybe get killed for two other ranches.

  Patty Anne and Charlie were sitting on the patio. Each had a cup of coffee in front of them, but neither was drinking any. They were both just looking at Sam’s door, and I doubted if either was aware of it. I interrupted their thoughts as I came in and started talking.

  “Charlie… we can keep the ranches afloat until there’s enough stock to make a drive. I’ll admit it won’t be easy for anybody, but saving the Esses is a family matter… And Linda and Margret Tucker may as well be family.”

  “But before that, I’m going over to Junction City and recover as much of that money as I can. If those two that went back to be with Buck, want in on it, they’re welcome. If not, then they can do what they want.”

  “You goin’ up as a US Marshal?”

  “That’ll be up to Jasper Stewart… I’m going either way. I may recruit some of your men when I meet up with them. I’ll need to know the trail they’re taking, and do they have extra horses?”

  He told me of their trail, and that they still had the remuda. So we could pick up some spares and make time. Patty Anne sat there listening, but I knew her mind was on the other side of Sam’s door.

  This shouldn’t have happened to such a nice bunch of folks. Patty and Linda were like sisters, with Maggie as a little sister. Linda was engaged to Charlie, in a way, it really was a family matter.

  Chapter 2

  I rode into town with Doc Withers. He said Sam would be alright as long as he didn’t get too excited and took it easy. He also said he should use plenty of salt because it thins the blood.

  “As far as that paralysis in his left arm,” he said, “I’ve seen some who worked their way through it, but others just give up on it… same with the speech.”

  Sam could sometimes get impatient and cranky, when things don’t work right, so his recovery might be a challenge for all of us. So it might be to my advantage to be gone for a little while.

  I sent my message off to Jasper Stewart and took the opportunity to visit with Nels… Sheriff Nelson. I didn’t seem to see as much of him as I used to. But that’s the price you pay for working your tail off, and being up to your neck in horses, cattle, water, grass, redheaded kids, and a good woman… not exactly in that order.

  When I told Nels what had happened, he growled and took a shot at the spittoon… wide to the right. He frowned and said, “Damnation! I been expectin’ the wheels to come off San Juan County for a few weeks now.”

  “Why, would you worry about that? There ain’t nothin’ in the area except the reservation and a few ranches. And Junction City’s not even on anybody’s map.”

  “That’s the problem… It’s a new territory. It was offered to the Chiricahua but they turned it down and the boys in Washington opened it to settlers. Where the three rivers come together they started a town of sorts…and called it Junction City… some city…Humph!”

  “It started out with the right idea with a County Council and a Sheriff. That was four months ago. I got word a couple of weeks back that somebody shot the Sheriff and the council has all but disbanded. I been burnin’ up the telegraph lines since then with Stewart in Santa Fe.”

  “But it’s a long way over there. Why should that be a problem for you?”

  “It’s a long way for sure, but there ain’t nothin’ to stop some of those hardcases from driftin’ east except Rio Arriba and a couple of pole fences.”

  “Jasper plannin’ to do anything about it?”

  “He’s sendin’ his Colorada deputy, that Claybrook fella, down there, if he can catch him in Silverton.”

  “Good, Ethan’s a good man… I’ll keep an eye out for him.”

  “Double damnation! Ben, You’re not goin’ over there are you?”

  “I just sent Jasper a wire tellin’ him that I was goin’ with or without his blessin’. If we don’t recover at least some of that money, things are gonna be mighty tight on two ranches that belong to some people I’m particularly fond of.”

  “But Ben! You can’t go runnin’ over there. There’s no law… no support at all… That place is a coyote’s den.”

  “Well I’m opening the coyote season, and I’m collecting ears, and tails.”

  About then, young Tommy Wakefield came through the door with one of those yellow telegraph papers in his hand.

  “Telegraph message for you, Mister Blue.”

  I took it, thanked him, and handed him a nickel. He looked at that coin like he’d just found the key to Heaven, and then he scampered off. I looked at the folded sheet for a few seconds, not sure I wanted to read it or not. If Jasper said no, he’d be madder than a stepped on cat when I went on my own. But he’d either have to get over it or not.

  I unfolded the sheet and read:

  Consider yourself blessed…Watch for Claybrook… be careful.

  Jasper Stewart, US Marshal

  S
anta Fe, New Mexico

  It took less than an hour to get a reply. That meant Stewart had already been pondering over sending me up there, and all I did was make things easy for him… I hate it when I make things easy for him.

  Handing it to Nels, he read it through twice and handed it back to me he said, “I wish there was another way, but if anyone can do it… I reckon you’d be the one.”

  “Thanks, Nels, I’ll be taking Flynn with me, and there’s a couple of Rockin’ J boys already there… And then there’s Claybrook. So I reckon we got ‘em outnumbered.”

  As I walked out the door Nels said, “You be careful, son.”

  Riding back to the ranch, I thought of what Nels had said, and it made me think of what a good friend he had become through the years. I was only three years old when my folks had died, so I only had tiny little curious flashing memories of them. Aunt Alice and Uncle Joe were good to me, but they were Andy’s folks. They weren’t even my real aunt and uncle. I guess Nelson was really the closest thing I had to a father figure.

  When I rode into the ranch yard, little Andy was standing on stool banging the daylights out of the big iron ring we used for a supper bell. I scooped him up as I went through the door and told him, “Well done, but everybody that’s comin’ is already at the table, like we ought to be. He giggled as I tucked him under my arm like a sack of potatoes and carried him in the house… That boy was a lot of fun.

  I could see in the eyes of those sitting around the big table that they were thanking me for shutting down the one note serenade. I set the youngen down, and he ran off to where his mother was waiting to put him and little sister to bed.

  Flynn gave me a questioning look, and I said, “We’re blessed.” He crossed himself, smiled and nodded his approval.