Blue (Ben Blue Book 2) Page 2
We rode out onto the valley floor, which was mostly sand and sage brush. The Sheriff agreed that it was a slick set up, since that sand wouldn’t hold distinctive tracks or any for long. Nelson also told me that within two miles of where we were, was the county line and he had no jurisdiction beyond it.
“So, what do we do?” I asked. “Can’t we just go ahead and raid that ranch with or without jurisdiction? You’ve got your best deputy stuffed into a crack in the rocks and ranchers losing their cattle… We don’t know how long this has been going on, and if they hadn’t gotten greedy we probably still wouldn’t know it was so nicely set up.”
“I don’t like it any better than you do, Ben. I’m the one who has to tell Duncan’s ma and sister that Jim ain’t comin home… I’m the one who’s got to look at those faces and see what this means to them. But… I’ve go to stay within the law, and if I go over there I’m goin to have to do it by the book. I’ll go back and get a message to the new sheriff of Rio Arriba County, asking his permission and help. I’m sure he’ll give us all the help we need. I always had good working relations with the old sheriff.”
The two deputies had gotten Duncan’s body all wrapped and trussed up. Since he had family, it was only fittin’ that we took him back for a proper burial. One of the deputies had to ride with the body until we got to Johnston’s place to pick up another horse.
The sheriff and his deputies took Dunk’s body back to Taos, and Rubio and I rode over to Juan Domingo’s place to let him know that he had some cattle to pick up at Johnston’s. From there we rode toward the S–S, usually called the Esses, to let Sam Stellars know the same thing. Where I turned right for the Esses, Rubio turned left for the valley. As we parted he said, “Hey Benblue, you tell sheriff to pay Rubio quick or I get his scalp on my lodge pole… You tellum too that I shot four and five rustlers.” Then he laughed and said, “Rubio no got lodge pole. Just got jacal pole.” I gave him two dollars and a handful of cartridges, and he rode off laughing.
Sam Stellars of the S–S was a special friend of mine, and his granddaughter, Patty, was a bit more than special to me. My brother Andy worked for the Stellars for nearly four years and I often visited him when I was driving freight wagons back and forth between Taos and Santa Fe. Patty was a cute little twelve or thirteen year old imp who found great joy in giving me the devil.
And then one day, she wasn’t so cute as much as she was pretty. And I wasn’t just a goofy redheaded kid, but a six foot two inch redheaded rancher who had lived a life of violence that no kid should ever have to face.
We cared for each other and we both knew it, but she had an obligation to her grandpa, and I had a ranch to build. Until yesterday, it had been almost a year and a half since I had fired a weapon in anger. The nightmares were slowly fading. I didn’t see the faces of the men whose lives I had ended. They were all necessary and justified; all were men who would have killed me or Andy if I hadn’t done what I did. I had said a prayer for the souls of all but two.
Patty understood that there was a lot of blood on my back trail, and all I wanted was to raise cows and someday kids. Just as I understood that she owed Sam, and even though Sam’s fondest wish was that she be married and happy, she wasn’t ready to leave him alone yet. In other words, we weren’t ready yet and we knew it.
As I rode into the ranch yard, I found Sam at one of his favorite haunts doing one of his favorite things. He was sitting on the top step of the front porch with his pipe in his teeth whittling away at what used to be a good sized stick.
“Light and sit, boy. You’re just in time for supper… Almost.”
“Well, that’s about the best news I’ve had all day.” I told him. “And I’ve got some news for you… It seems that about thirty or so Esses cattle found their way over into Rio Arriba County, along with about fifteen hundred others from the plateau…They’re up on the J now. You might send someone up to head ‘em home.”
“I’ll be damned. How’d you suppose they got way up there? I’ll send Charlie up tomorrow. I’ll be damned… Hey, wait a minute… Was these cows stolen… Fifteen hundred, now that quite a parcel.”
I went on to tell him how we found where they were crossing the stream and about the bushwhacker and how we trailed his horse and finding the canyon full of cattle. Lastly, I told him about Jim Duncan being killed not twenty yards from where I was ambushed.
Sam just hung his head, and I heard a sharp intake of breath from the doorway. I knew that sound, I’d heard it before. Sam and I turned toward the door to see Patty standing there with the corner of her apron pulled up to her eyes. We both got up and went to her.
Dunk was well liked in the Taos area, and if Nelson were to retire, Jim would have been a shoo in for the job. He was the sole support of his mother and his sister Sarah.
All Patty could think about was Sarah, and between sobs, she asked me if I would take her into town to be with her. Of course I said I would and went out to get the buggy ready. By the time I had the buggy hitched, she was ready to go. I loaded her carpet bag and several baskets of food and we left.
On the way, she turned to me and asked, “Ben, how did you happen to be up on the J?”
I told her that the sheriff had come out to get Rubio to scout for a trail, and asked me to go take a look.
“You?” she asked. “Why you? Why not one of the deputies?” I knew why she was asking, and didn’t want to make a joke like I had with Johnston because she wouldn’t have put up with it.
“Because,” I told her, “like it or not, I’ve got more experience at this sort of thing than any of the deputies. I’ve been dealing with wild country and wilder men since I was twelve years old… He was worried for Dunk, and didn’t want to send a green deputy out there. He knew that with Rubio and me together, we’d be hard to slip up on.”
She pondered that for a few minutes and asked, “Will it ever end? Will there come a time when they won’t be calling your name? Will they ever just let you be the rancher you want to be?”
“I don’t know, Patty… But it’s something for you to think long and hard on. I suppose I’ll always do what I can in my own way to make this a better place to live. If it means putting myself on the spot from time to time, then I’ll probably do it.”
“But, Ben, I know what it does to you when you have to take a life… no matter how necessary. It still weighs heavy on your mind. I doubt that you have too many uninterrupted full nights of sleep. Folks are content to let someone like the Sheriff’s Deputies and you take up the fight for them. I’ll bet Dave Johnston didn’t even offer to go out with you to help.” She had me there… he hadn’t.
We rode for quite a while without either of us saying anything. I knew what she was thinking, and she knew the kind of man I was. It was something she was going to have to work out in her own mind. We were in a settled and civilized place with the protection of peace officers and judges, we were also on the ragged edge of that civilization and that protection. There were savage men, and I don’t mean those wearing war paint and moccasins, but those who would kill as easily as taking a breath. While we are doing our life’s work, we must all be ready to pick up our weapons at a moment’s notice.
What Patty wasn’t aware of, or maybe she was and that was her problem, I wouldn’t have sent old Rubio off to scout that area without going with him. He may have been a terrible enemy for the Apache to face, but he was past seventy years of age. He can still read a trail as well as anyone, but he’s slowing down, and he nearly died a year ago with pneumonia. I suspect that when he goes, there won’t be many left like him.
When we arrived at the Duncan home, I helped Patty get her things into the house and the baskets of food also. I asked her if she wanted me to wait in town for her or send the buggy back in the morning. She told me to go on back and have her grandpa come get her around noon the next day. When I turned to leave, she took my arm and leaned her head against my shoulder for a long half minute, and then said, “Good night, Ben.”
Patty was going to have plenty of emotions for the next twelve to fifteen hours, without worrying about things that may never happen. She will either decide to take me like I am, or give me my walking papers. I’d hate that, but I’d hate a lot worse being something less than the man that I was. When Nelson gets his posse together, I’m sure he’ll call on me, and I’ll go.
When I arrived home that evening, I found Rafe Baker stirring a pot of jackrabbit stew in the kettle on the fire. Rafe and I had a stormy start, but we’ve turned out to be pretty good friends. When the Pickering heirs (see “Hickory Jack”) decided to sell off the ranch, they settled with the few hands that were left and glutted the local cattle market. So Rafe was left without a job. I hired him. He took up residence in the northern most of the original three cabins, and takes his meals at my place. He’s a good steady cowhand and loyal to the brand… up to a point.
The first time I met him he was trying to invade my valley with thirty five hundred cows and calling me bad names. I threatened to put a .44 through his skull for calling me a son of a bitch. The second time I saw him he was trying to come between me and Patty. The third time I saw him, I threatened to shoot his little pee pee off. And the fourth time I saw him, he was trying to save my life and up to his elbows in my blood. He’ll do. As things have turned out, he keeps the fire going in the smokehouse, which in itself is enough to pay his salary.
“Howdy, Red.” He said as I came through the door. “I figured you’d be along, so I kept the rabbit warm for you. There’s coffee in the pot… Rubio came by and said you and him rescued a bunch of cows up toward the San Juan’s… Also said you took down a polecat… Too bad about Dunk though… one of the good ones.”
“Yeah, I sure hated finding him like that, but I’m pretty sure I fetched the one who did it. He had me in his sights, but I’d just decided to turn back, well, you know how quick that line-back can turn… saved my bacon, he did.”
“I figure that operation’s busted. I don’t know if they’ll try to open somewhere else in the area or move on out of the country, which is what I’m hopin’.”
“Well, you ain’t got nothin’ to fret about up here.” He remarked. “As I well know, it’s almost impossible to get unwanted cows into this valley, let alone trying to get some out that we don’t want out.”
I laughed and said, “Rafe, that’s ancient history. You and me are pals now, we don’t point guns at each other anymore.”
“Lord, I hope to tell you!”
Tired as I was, sleep didn’t come easy that night. I was troubled with what was bothering Patty, but there wasn’t much I could do about it at the time, so I tried to put it out of my mind. I had found that things sat a lot easier on a fellas mind if he only worried about those things he could do something about. But somehow it was easy to know but hard to do.
When I did fall to sleep, I woke up dreaming about that bushwhacker Kelley. There it was, another soul on my doorstep and more blood on my back trail. I told myself that I had no choice but to shoot him. Then I told myself that all I had to do was get the drop on him and disarm him. But I knew that was only in stories. That gent was facing a rope for murder and rustling… both could get a man hung. He wasn’t about to throw up his hands because I told him to. Somewhere in the blackest part of night, I dropped off again and slept until I heard pots and pans banging around in the main room.
Stumbling out in my long johns and hat, I found Rafe frying bacon and breakin’ eggs. “You better hurry, boss, if you want any of these aigs. ‘Cus I’m a hungry man.”
“You just make sure there’s no shells in mine.” I told him and ducked back to get dressed.
During breakfast, he said that he was going to try and run some of those Avery cows out of the canyons to the south. I’d bought Avery’s whole herd at auction. It amounted to nearly four thousand head, but they were in poor shape and not many bidders wanted to chance them, and I had the range to let them fatten up. We lost a few on the drive of less than twenty miles, and I lost about fifty over the winter, but the rest seem to have responded and came around. Those canyons at the south end of the valley worked wonders for cattle that needed some recuperation… if we could keep the critters off ‘em. But that’s what winters are for, hunting elk, wild pigs, and cougars. The elk and pig wound up in the smokehouse, but the cougars went to Rubio. I haven’t acquired that taste yet.
I told Rafe that I was riding over to the Pueblo this morning, but I figured to be back before noon and I’d be down there to help out.
“Goin’ over to see the Black Bird?”
Chapter 4
He was speaking of Father Paul, or Padre Paolo depending on your ethnic upbringing and the language you spoke. The Padre had been a good friend to me in Texas, but had recently taken over the mission San Geronimo at the Taos Pueblo.
“Yep,” I said, “after I spill blood on the ground, he’s the one who can usually make it less painful.”
“Dammit, Blue, you couldn’t a helped that shootin. That skunk had already shot at you from ambush, and he’d killed Dunk. Then he was sneakin in to finish the job. Man, you didn’t have no choice but to let her fly.”
“Yeah, I know, I know,” I said, “but each time it gets harder. And they just keep coming.”
The Pueblo wasn’t more than eight miles away, so I took Bob out for a little exercise, I wasn’t exactly sure how old Bob was, but I’d had him for near to ten years and he was fully grown when I acquired him. Of my three outlaw horses, Bob was my favorite. It was just too bad he had been gelded because he’d a made some pretty good breeding stock.
Since coming to the Pueblo, last fall, the Padre had reopened the old mission school, which was for Mexican and Indian boys primarily, although girls were welcome, most of the families opted only send their boys. I had pulled some strings to get Nino, Rubio’s twelve year old grandson, a place in the school. Although Nino was eligible as a Navajo, he didn’t belong to the Pueblo. They were sheep herders without close tribal ties. Actually, they only had close ties with me, but everybody knew old Rubio.
As I jogged up to the front of the mission I saw the youngin’s streaming out of the first adobe classroom for recess. Right behind them and shooing them out was Linda Tucker, Patty’s closest friend and neighbor. Linda had taken the job of teaching English, reading, writing, and basic math. Since she was fluent in Spanish, and most of these youngsters spoke Spanish, she was a natural.
“Good morning, Ben, How are you, and how’s Patty?” It was funny how we were becoming linked together in everyone’s minds.
“I’m just fine, Linda, but Patty’s over with Sarah Duncan and her mother since last night. There’s no easy way to put it but Jim Duncan was shot and killed by rustlers a few days ago… We just found him yesterday and brought him in.” Her eyes welled up and I could see what was going to happen. So I just pulled her to my shoulder and gave her something to lean against and cry on…and she did. The next adobe classroom door opened and boys flew out followed by the Padre. He turned and raised his hand to wave, but saw what was happening and quickly crossed the twenty or so feet to where we were standing.
Putting his arm around Linda’s shoulders he led us into the chapel. “What has happened, Benito?”
When we reached the chapel one of the nuns came and took Linda away. Father Paul and I faced each other, both straddling one of the benches in the back. I told him about Deputy Duncan and the rustling. When he had digested that, I told him about my own involvement, and the man I had been forced to kill. “I know in my heart that there was only about one chance in a million that I could have saved my own life without taking his, and I know that I was there at the request of the sheriff with the blessings of the law, but why me… why do these killings keep piling up around me? I don’t want to kill. It’s not a guilt feeling; I don’t feel guilty... I guess, I just feel bad because it happened to be me and not some other ordinary man doing a job.”
He eased his leg up on the b
ench and sat with one leg on the bench and one foot on the floor while he pondered my questions. Finally he said, “Benito, there have always been those who are chosen to take up the sword against evil. I cannot say that this is the case, but it would not surprise me. Throughout the Bible there are stories of those who did what was needed to keep others safe or defeat evil. Moses led thousands of Egyptian soldiers into the Red Sea to their deaths, but he was saving his people. It could not be helped. David took up his sling and a stone to slay Goliath and save lives.”
“I told you once before, back in Texas, that you should try to take these killers to the law, but you must protect yourself in the process. That has not changed. There are always going to be those who for reasons of power, wealth, lust, insanity, or merely for thrill will try to hurt or kill others… You will be there for many of them. I believe it is who you are. I’m sure you will suffer hurt for your actions, both because of your own sensitive nature, but also because there will be some who won’t understand.”
I must have flinched at that last part because he said, “Benito, are you being criticized?”
“No,” I said, “not that I know of, but Patty is afraid that I’ll always be ready to go off on another shoot out. I think she’s afraid that our future may be short.”
“Tis the nature of woman to want her man safe and sitting beside her at the fire… If you are meant to be together, you will be.”
About that time, Linda and the sister returned, she was red eyed and sniffing, but much more composed. “I’m sorry, Ben, but I’ve known Jim Duncan all my life, and I think I’ve secretly loved him in a school girl sort of way all my life. Have they caught the man who did it?”