As the months, then years passed, there remained a chilly impasse between Hector Chaf and Ben McGovren and the Standing K foreman. But for a reason that maybe only Wilshaw Broome himself could explain, there was never a time when any of them pushed for a face-off.
Jasper and Judd returned from across the state where they had received their schooling. They were no longer boys, but able, strapping young men. As Hector and Ben had foreseen, that to which their father had turned a blind eye, the character traits in each of the youngsters, hadn’t changed, just strengthened with time. Judd was surly and wretched, decided to chum up with Wilshaw Broome, rather than have much to do with his father or brother. Jasper on the other side was a cheerful, open young man, bore a likeness to his father and grandfather before him.
Kettle was loyal to both his sons, impartial when it came to any outward show of parental care. However, the elderly rancher did believe in the convention of eldest son being first in line, and consequently detailed more duties to Judd in the way of ranch management. Despite his pleasant demeanour, it didn’t take long for Jasper to become frustrated and restless. But for Wilshaw Broome it was a time for which he had long waited. In anticipation of the benefits, he started to throw his weight around once again. For Hector and Ben it explained a lot, presaged the trouble that would once again run a dark shadow across the land of Standing K.
A new arrival in town was Beth Shortcorn from Hackberry, Arizona. She thought that Lemmon was far enough east to find a less wild society. Jasper thought that funny, made her even more to his liking. Judd also had been an admirer, but Beth was quick to appreciate the difference between the brothers. Favouring Jasper meant there was little chance for someone of Judd’s disposition. Jasper was won over and, with his parents’ blessing, asked for Beth’s hand. The couple were married the same fall, made their home not more than ten miles from the Standing K’s home pasture.
About the same time Ben McGovren took a wife. Her name was Aileen, and she too was an incomer up from Las Cruces. They decided to rebuild the tumbledown homestead of Ben’s early youth, clear out the pear and matchweed. But nothing much changed for Hector Chaf. Most evenings he rode out to the breeding range to watch the bulls, or strolled to the corral to run an eye over a new breed mare. It was while looking over a fine sorrel one evening with Hoope Kettle that his old friend lost his balance and fell back from a top rail. He landed badly and, because of his stiff bulk, he suffered internal injuries that wouldn’t allow him to walk or ride far, ever again.
Either from old-fashioned loyalty, or just plain stubbornness, Kettle continued with Wilshaw Broome as his foreman. But with Judd’s growing involvement, it was more in name only, and why Hector never questioned Hoope’s decision. But in time, Broome managed to drive a wedge between Judd and his brother. Although sadly aware of Jasper’s situation, Hector accepted it as a family matter, that Kettle blood was thicker than water. But in his own way, Hector could be just as dogmatic as his boss, and he was going to stay close and vigilant until the peace broke. And he’d a grain of an idea just how long that would be.
Gradually, Wilshaw Broome elbowed out any rider whom he suspected of not being too loyal to him and his association with Judd. He reasoned, shrewdly, that if needs be, they’d probably side with Jasper and Hector Chaf – something along the lines of your enemy’s enemies are your friends. As a consequence of this workforce cull, Hector had no more than three genuine, trusty friends including Jasper, whom Broome couldn’t influence or dispose of. Ben McGovren would still side with Hector, and for the least of causes. And there was the bone-handled .44 Colt that was close to Hector’s side, day and night. It made up a quartet that grimly satisfied Hector, something for Broome and his cohorts to disregard ever at their peril.
In due time, Beth Kettle gave birth to a husky young son who thrived under the full name of Bruno Joseph Kettle. Then inevitably, but somewhat later, Ben and Aileen produced a daughter.
In one of the outlying adobes that Hoope Kettle had set aside for the married workers, another girl was reaching early womanhood. Her parents were Mexican, her father was the wrangler, Quedo Lunes. Home for mother and daughter was at the furthest section from the main house, no more than five miles from the burgeoning outskirts of Lemmon. One reason this little family had moved that much nearer to town was the intimidating attitude of both Judd and Wilshaw Broome towards Mexican employees and their families.
But despite the flawed circumstances of their housing, Quedo knew that young Clemente was beginning to attract the attention of both these men. There was nowhere more convenient where Quedo could find suitable work, even if he wanted it. So, like Hector Chaf, he accepted his lot tolerantly. His wife did washing and mending for the payroll ’punchers, and Clemente grew ever more attractive as time passed.
The Lunes looked upon Hector as a good and reliable friend, and he was a regular caller at their home when he rode to Lemmon. He’d usually leave it for a Sunday call, when he knew Quedo would be there. After each visit, Clemente would invariably find an extra fund to supplement the family food cupboard, but Hector’s calls were becoming less frequent. He’d set himself to keep a closer eye on the Standing K ranch house, where old Hoope’s health had started to deteriorate rapidly.
‘There’s not much any of us can do, Hec,’ Jasper said one day. ‘He’s bein’ fed like a weaner calf.’