CHAPTER 14
Next mid-morning Chet found his son Adam at the big house at the Camp Verde site. His nanny Rhea opened the front door and from behind her, Adam hollered, “Daddy.”
Liz was laughing. “He sounds just like his father.”
“Big man, Daddy is here.” On his knees he scooped up his son and kissed him. “How are you doing?”
“You eat lunch?”
“Sure, we can always eat.”
“Rhea will fix some.”
“I bet she would.”
“Oh, Chet, how are you?”
“Fine, Rhea, my son grows so fast I can hardly believe it.”
“Señora Byrnes, why are you all in the hall? Come in the dining room, please?” her housekeeper asked them.
Chet, holding his son, told them to go ahead. He and Adam were coming.
The front door flew open and Victor came hurrying in. “Is everyone all right?”
“Most of us,” Chet said. “What is wrong?”
“There is a messenger from Center Point looking for you over at Tom’s. They have more trouble up there.”
“I’ll go up to Tom’s,” Chet said, and handed his son to Rhea. “I plan to be back for lunch.”
Liz followed him out. “I’ll stay here and wait for you.”
Halfway across the dry short grass span, Tom and another man hurried to meet them.
“What is up, Tom?”
“This man works for Cole. He says they burned down a stage line station.”
“Which one?”
“Number three,” the young man said.
“Was anyone hurt or shot?”
“The man’s wife is dead.”
“That’s Clyde Covington’s wife Iris—” Chet felt he had been struck in the heart by a spear. The lovely woman who always pecked him on the cheek for visiting was dead.
He nodded he heard. “Tom, you send for my men to join me up there. I am going to ride for Center Point.”
“What about Liz?”
“She will probably go along with me. I want packhorses and supplies. We’ll go after them and hopefully find the raiders.”
“What is wrong?” Liz asked, coming from the house.
“Iris Covington was murdered.”
Her beautiful face crumpled into sorrow. He reached out and hugged her tight. “I am sorry, but their station was attacked. I have no more details. I am sending for the men and packhorses. They can catch us up there. Jesus, Spencer, and Spud can all meet us at the station. Tom will get word to them.”
“I hate to leave the new girl.”
“Tom can get a guard to take you back. I understand your concern.”
“Oh, Chet, I hate it worse you going ahead alone. It may be a trap.”
“I’ll send two cowboys with him that can fight,” Tom said.
“I’m sorry. Time counts.”
Liz wiped the tears from her cheek. “You take care. I will burn candles for your safety at my church.”
Tom said, “Chet, I’m going to get your boys to ride with you.”
“Thanks. Your name is?” Chet asked, turning to face the messenger.
“Oh, I am Clay Whitson. I’m a driver. Cole took some men and went up there. He told me to find you and you’d know what to do.”
“You can ride back with me. Go up to the big house and tell them I said to feed you. I’ll be along in a minute.”
Whitson looked a little taken aback.
“Knock on the door,” Liz said to him. “They won’t bite you.
“Good. I was afraid—”
Things looked set. Chet took Liz back down to the big house, assuring her that he would be careful. He hurriedly ate lunch, held and kissed his son, then hugged his wife hard, kissed her good-bye.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“I will be waiting.”
* * *
He went to join the assembled men.
“These are my best men, Buck McCray. Dooley Hansen. They know and understand the danger and are ready to go with you,” Tom said.
Chet shook their hands and thanked them. He noted they had bedrolls on their saddles and rifles in their scabbards. “I hope we have no problem, but it will be a tough ride. I want to join Cole and his men if they haven’t already collected the raiders.”
“Tom explained they killed a woman in the raid.”
“I hate that. She was a lovely woman and mother. But we will run them into the ground.”
“We’ve heard how hard everyone worked on that stage line. What is wrong with these people?” Buck asked him.
“If I knew all that I’d probably be rich,” Chet said.
He nodded, mounted the roan horse, and swung him around. “Ready?”
The two men were already mounted.
“I have sent a man to get your helpers,” Tom said. “Victor and I can send more if you need them.”
“I think this will be enough. But I appreciate your concern.” With that done he set the roan into a long trot for Camp Verde and the road north. The notion that he could have ridden the big gray but probably would have wind broke him getting there went through his mind. No need to kill a great horse—Ty might make him a better one.
Still struck hard with the sad notion that paid raiders had murdered Iris Covington, he wondered how many more killers Hall could hire.
Past midnight they awoke Robert and his wife. Chet apologized and explained their need. They slept a few hours in bedrolls on the floor in the house. The very pregnant Betty made them breakfast and brushed off their apologies for disturbing her sleep.
“Land sakes fellows, Robert and I live in this wonderful Byrnes family house and we have a great life. I will share it any time you need it, and when my baby comes you can help me entertain it.”
“Boy or girl?” Clay asked.
“Ten toes, ten fingers, and a smile is all I want.”
They all gave her a small hug going out the door and she beamed. Chet kissed her cheek and shook Robert’s hand. “Jesus, Spencer the new man, and Spud are coming tonight, I imagine.”
“No problem. We hope you find the guilty parties,” Robert said.
“We will,” he promised the bright young leader of his timber-hauling operation.
They paused, shook hands again, and both had a moment of powerful silence. Chet felt certain his man knew the pressures he faced. Both knew the strong influence each had on the other.
They were, after a few hours’ push northward, entering a vast high open meadow. A single shot rang out from somewhere nearby, sending Clay’s horse stumbling and throwing the others into a scramble. Off the stricken horse Clay made a quick move to get behind him. Gun in his hand, he, like the others still in the saddle, searched around for the shooter.
“The puff of gun smoke came from over east on that hillside,” Buck said.
“Get for cover,” Chet shouted, and pointed to the timber behind them. The words were barely out of his mouth when a shot stung Dooley’s horse and he left bucking but headed for cover. The rider soon got him under control. In the meantime, Chet swung Clay up behind him and they rode for the pines a quarter mile away.
The four men reached the edge of the woods and removed their saddlebags, bedrolls, and meager supplies. Horses were driven away from the shooter side of the area and hobbled while two of them with rifles studied the faraway site of the shooter on a pine-clad hillside.
No more shots were fired in the next thirty minutes. No pursuit from the ambushers. Time clicked away.
“Dooley and I are going to check that side out. We won’t look too hard ’cause I figure he’s long gone. Clay can ride double, but use the road, we will rejoin you north of here. We can send someone back to get your saddle, Clay.”
He nodded.
Chet and Dooley, armed with rifles on their horses, rode around the meadow close to the pine-clad slope and drew no fire. Saw no sign of anyone or anything.
Chet felt lots of searching would not prove anything. They’d not find a needle in the haystack from where the sniper had been. Chet counted them all lucky the gunman had not done any more damage than destroy a horse. They’d send back others to take the saddle off the dead horse, which might require turning him over to get it free.
Satisfied, they gave a two-shot all-clear message and headed north.
The two riding double soon joined them. Chet hurried his mount to get them all quickly to the stage line operations area. When they arrived, Chet saw Valerie come running across the grassy ground to meet them.
“You got the word then what happened? Cole took four men and went to track them down. Lots of folks are steaming mad up here about them killing poor Iris.” She bent over to catch her breath.
“Easy, sister. We’d have been here sooner but a sniper shot at us down in that meadow south of here. Killed one of our horses.”
Her blue eyes opened wide and she frowned. “You see the sniper?”
“No, he was a long ways away. Probably ran off after he shot at us.”
Valerie broke down and cried in Chet’s arms. “Damn. Should I go down to the Verde River Ranch with the boy for our safety or what?”
“No. Stay here. You have enough men to stop any attack. We will get this bunch of murderers and slam them in jail.”
“Where are Jesus and Spencer and Spud?”
“They were at one of the other places checking things out. When we got the word of the attack, Liz and I were at the Verde place playing with Adam.”
“If anything happened to Rocky I don’t know what I’d do. I sure am attached to him.”
“You are safe enough here. When my men get here we will go find Cole. Now we could eat.”
“Oh, I am so sorry. Come on. The crew at the tent will feed you. I guess with Cole gone—it doesn’t help my fears.”
“No help to have him gone. Valerie, you are one cute, pretty stepmother concerned about way too much.” He herded her toward the tent knowing his compliment made her blush.
“I can go get your little man but he is sleeping and his nanny or wife, or whatever she is to him, is watching him.” She laughed a little about Rocky telling them he needed a wife too.
“That business he needed a wife is too cute. I won’t leave till the crew catches us. I hope they don’t snipe on them.”
“It is getting crazy . . . this killing business.”
“That’s why I’m here. This has to be stopped.”
“Any idea who the sniper was?”
“I didn’t have my best trackers with me. It would have been a needle in a haystack to try and find. It was a long-range shot that was done, I am sure, from a special sniper rifle with a telescope sight.”
“I hope Cole doesn’t get hurt. He has three good men with him, but he isn’t you.”
“Me? He’s as good a man as any I know.”
“No, Chet Byrnes. God put a shield around you.”
“Then how come I got shot down at Tombstone then?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“Val, we are both lucky we have survived the scraps we have been in. You have Rocky and Cole. I have the head men jobs over the ranches all set, the rest is all good, plus I have Elizabeth. We can work out anything else that comes our way, can’t we?”
His arm around her shoulder, they went to the tent and the crew there fed them.
“What are the plans?” Clay asked him over the meal.
“When the others get here we will go help Cole. He’s left word where he is going. Arrange for some packhorses and supplies. This may be a long chase.”
“I wish I knew who that sniper was,” Clay said.
“We’ll get him before this is over.”
“You need to take a nap?” Val asked him.
“I have our cabin. I may do it. Next few days I figure won’t support much sleep. Has anyone arranged to get Clay’s saddle?”
“Three guys just left here well-armed to go get it,” Buck said.
“Good. Get some rest. There won’t be much time for that in the days ahead.”
They agreed and went off to find some shade and spread a bedroll. Once in the cabin setup, Chet shed his boots and pants. The interior was cool from the night before’s low temperature. Stretched out on the bed, he wished Liz had come along and he had her there to hug and love. Soon his eyes fell shut and all the stage line problems dissolved in his sleep.
Later in the day he dressed and went back to the commissary tent for supper. About then the rest of his crew, Jesus and the others, arrived. They must have come after him at breakneck speed. They arrived in time to eat anyway. He rose and shook their hands.
“We just got word they shot at you south of here?” Jesus began with.
“Some sniper shot a horse out from under one of the men. The shooter was a great distance up in the pines, and our chances of finding him were small. We looked a little, but then rode on.”
“We saw the dead ranch horse and I knew he wasn’t one you rode.”
“Clay was the man who rode him. And I’m grateful that we only lost a horse. But someone knew we’d head north, and someone intended to kill one of us or more.”
“Is Cole looking for the men who murdered Iris?”
“He and several men are out there now, and I hope on their tracks. I want you and Spencer to stay here and be the backup force in case there is more trouble.”
“Who rides with you then?” Jesus asked.
“Spud, Buck, Dooley, and Clay, the new man whose horse was shot. That’s enough.”
“What do the two of us do?”
“I want a team here, because he may have another group to attack us.”
“Where do you think he will strike again?” Jesus asked.
“Jesus, if I knew that I’d go there myself.”
“Fine. We can wait here, but if you need us send word.”
“I will. I promise. Now let’s eat.”
“Do you have any word who they are that killed the woman and burned Clyde’s headquarters?”
Chet shook his head. “All I can do is suspect our past individual who hired all the others where things have happened.”
“When you get ready, I want to go with you and find him when you get back.”
“Fine . . . we will first capture these killers. Then you and I and whoever can go look for Hall. It may be the only way we can settle this business. I asked Hannagen to hire the Pinkerton Agency to find him. But who knows about them.”
Jesus agreed and sat down. “I wonder if that will be who we need. These stupid hired hands Hall hires need to be found and jailed, but we won’t ever settle this until we get him.”
“Do you have any idea where to find him?”
“He has to have been here to hire those other men. Let me and Spencer go spy on that woman we found who had some kind of an affair with him.”
“I don’t want you two killed.”
“We won’t get killed. But I think he has some people hide him out. It may not be her, but he’s stayed before and may pass through there going back and forth to observe us.”
“Maybe? But if someone he doesn’t know, part of us, went undercover and searched for him they might find him making his trips and get a notion how to trap and catch him.”
“Who is that?”
“Maybe while you two are trying to track him you will find that individual.”
Jesus nodded and Spencer agreed. “How much should we offer him?”
“Five hundred dollars and no one will know who did it for us.”
“I know we will have to be careful. But that might get him nailed down too.”
“Okay, so you don’t stay here as backup. Do your search, but I don’t want you to stay gone without any contact for more than ten days.”
Jesus made a disappointed face like he’d asked too much. “I hope you get them. I’d like to get back to normal again.”
Chet smiled. “What is that?”
“Chasing down everyday criminals and ranching.”
“Everyday law enforcement was bad enough.”
“Yes.” Jesus shook his head.
Valerie and her nanny for Rocky and the boy joined them for supper before the men had finished eating. Chet had Rocky on his lap feeding him between his own bites, and they had a private conversation about the taller pony that he wanted.
“That may have to wait until we get the stage line running without these bad men.”
“Who are they?”
“Rocky, if I knew that I’d arrest them all.”
“Good. When this is over, find the pony.”
“I will do that.”
Satisfied, he went to sit on Val’s lap and she shook her head over him.
“He’s fine. Just a boy is all.”
“Like his father—he’s going to be in charge.”
Everyone laughed.
Chet shook his head and went back to eating his supper. No winning that argument.
Things in order, he fell in bed early and had the plans to ride out at predawn with his men. Maybe Jesus had the right idea. Catch Hall sneaking around and bring him in alive if they could. His eyes closed shut—maybe sleep would solve his deepest concerns.
In the cool predawn, Chet rode at the head on the swinging roan horse while his team followed with five packhorses. They made the first big rise and left the pines for the rolling hills, the air clad in a pungent juniper scent. A few spooked mule deer pounded away stiff-legged from the invaders.
Two days away from the attacked stage stop, he saw a construction crew, with lumber, so the reconstruction to start rebuilding was on that way. But still it would never be the same without Iris to greet everyone with a smile and nice words. She always made everyone feel they were special when they visited her.
Her husband Clyde Covington could never replace her. But who knew what? He had thought that about his first wife—and not looking he found his current one. A very different woman but heavens what more could he ask for than her. He would have to see what tomorrow brought.
Things appeared to be all right at the number-four station. Herman Rothschild greeted them and his tall Indian wife Darling came on the run to greet him. She hugged him and told him her friend Blue Bell told her he was doing fine when she came by going home.
“Any problems?” Chet asked him.
“We have been lucky. Just threats. I ran them off. But we stay ready and have some dogs to bark at night if anyone comes around.”
“There is a man dresses fancy and has a new Boss of the Plains hat named Anson Hall. Has he been around?”
“Not lately, has he, Darling?”
“No. Not lately. Who is he?” she asked.
“The man who hires these killers.”
“I’ll arrest him if he ever comes back.”
“Be very careful. I don’t want you killed. He is a very elusive man.”
“We will,” she promised him.
She fed them some fry bread and meat she had cooked, and they rode on to make more distance that day.
They slept at a small waterhole and rode on early the next morning to reach station number three about midday. A red-eyed Clyde met them and shook their hands. He hugged Chet and shook his head. “It is killing me, Chet. And them getting away, I can’t run their sorry asses into the damn ground.”
“Cole may have already done that. We plan to join him in the chase if he hasn’t.”
“She was the light of my life, Chet. Smart woman, she could pinch a penny and she’d feed the mangiest dog came by hungry. Never had a bad day in her life. She said when we made the cattle deal with you our troubles were over—we’d make it up here at last. That and with the stage line business we wouldn’t need to worry anymore. But damn it to hell, she ain’t here to enjoy any of it.”
“Nothing will bring her back. She would expect you to carry on. We will get her killers and they will be punished. Life goes on.”
“I know you’ve had some bad deals happen to you. I heard the stories. I’ll try to be like you . . . face them and move on.”
“There is no other way, Clyde. They don’t come back. I am so sorry. I too share your loss, but things will go on.”
He saw the grave out front of the stop and wished his friend had buried her farther away. Not hide her but to a better setting—private-like place. But that was not his decision on how to do it.
They ate a quick meal, Chet shook his hand, and he rode north to find Cole.
Larks and killdeer scouted ahead for them. A Navajo woman with little children and a small flock of sheep told them the riders were three days ahead of them. Him and his team ate dry jerky and canteen water to wash it down with and rode on past dark.
Coyotes howled and silent owls swooped over them with winged bats hunting bugs to be seen against the starlight. When they did stop, he did not sleep soundly or wake up rested. They pushed on across the Painted Desert. The next night they stopped at a trading post. The man’s wife fed them tortillas and frijoles. They thanked her, slept on the ground, and after her breakfast of their own oatmeal rode on.
Chet was convinced they would soon find Cole. Two days later at Chama, high up in the pines of northern New Mexico, they found him and his hard-eyed men in a saloon drinking beer.
“Any luck?” Chet asked.
Cole shook his head. “They vanished up here.”
In a whisper, Chet said, “Then they are close.”
“What do you mean?”
“They came all this way for a purpose. They got here and are now in hiding. Offer a reward for them. Tell this bartender you will pay for their whereabouts.”
“How much?” Cole asked.
“A hundred dollars. There are men who would sell you their mother for that amount.”
Cole went over to the bar and waved the bartender down. “You ever hear of a guy named Anson Hall?”
“Yeah, he’s a gambler. He comes in here. What you need him for?”
“A friend of mine wants to talk to him.”
“I’ll tell him. What is his name?”
“No, he knows that Anson don’t want to talk to him. But he’d pay a hundred bucks to find him and never say a word about who sent him. Savvy?”
The bartender nodded. “I’ll see what I can do. I could damn sure use the money.”
“Couldn’t we all.” Cole said.
He rejoined Chet. “He said he’d try to find him.”
“Good. You say they disappeared near here?”
“Pretty well. They simply evaporated close to here, after we left Durango. They probably split up, but we couldn’t find any familiar hoof tracks.”
“You have identities on any of them?”
“Nothing makes sense. An Indian squaw said they were white men. No Mexicans or Indians. One had freckles all over his face. Two had black beards. How easy would they be to identify? It was dark when they made the stage stop raid and no one saw them clearly. They wore flour sack masks. They avoided everyone in all those miles, but that one Navajo woman who saw them. Now they must be split up.”
“Maybe go back to Durango and ask more questions?”
“We thought we covered it. But you may have a better idea how to do that.”
“Cole, someone knows them and saw them somewhere. We have to break that person or find some whore even who knows all about them.”
“I don’t know how you or I are going to find out anything from one of them.”
“You are right, but let’s you and I talk to Spud. He’s had to exist in some pretty grimy places; there is a chance he could learn some things we didn’t even think about.”
“Would it risk his life?”
“I don’t want that. Let’s find him and talk.”
“He’s out at our camp by now.”
“We can talk to him there.”
Cole agreed.
Leaving the bar, they joined up with Spud and the others at the camp.
As soon as they got there, Chet, Cole, and Spud went off by themselves, away from the fire. In the cool night they sat on some logs in the dark timber.
“Spud, Cole and his bunch lost those killers between here and maybe Durango.”
“No one knows who they are, still?” Spud asked, surprised.
“We may not, but someone does. A handful of guys came up here and they dispersed. We hope there is some dove knows all about them, or some guy that sells them liquor. Some connection. They are hiding but we don’t know where or who they are.”
“What can I do?”
“Can you go secretly and see what you can find out and not get killed?” Chet asked him.
“I think so. You need to find us the identities of these guys who you chased up here.”
“All we have is one had freckles and two had beards according to a Navajo woman.”
In the dim light, Chet noted the shake of Spud’s head. “Too tough?”
“No. Chet, I have not been back in that gutter since I went to work for you. I don’t mind going back, but I dread doing it. If there is an answer I will find it.”
“How much money do you need?”
“Fifty dollars in coins or old money. I may not need it all, but it will loosen lips or buy cheap liquor to help them talk.”
“You can have all you need. I will leave you a fast horse at the livery and a code to get him and ride the hell out if things fall in.”
“I can do that.”
“Don’t risk your life. We need you, but what you find may solve our search.”
“Hey, thanks. I am going to shed my cowboy clothes. Start here or down at Durango?”
“Durango. Higden’s Livery. ‘Strawberry Hill’ is the code word to get the horse I leave for you.”
“How do I find you or Cole?”
“The Brown Hotel desk. Leave a message in a sealed envelope. How do you want to get back there?” Chet asked.
“I will hitch a ride on some freight wagon. Give me a few days. If there is any word on them I will know who and where they are at by then.”
“Spud, if it gets too tough, get your backside out of there.”
“I promise.”
Chet worried about the short man. He had been in a tough world, and going back there might get him killed. But he knew not if Spud could prevent it from happening. The wait would be the big hard thing for him.
While the team members scattered looking for leads on the raiders, Chet wrote Liz a letter telling her they were all fine, but at a dead end up there in southern Colorado. He did not tell her about his effort that sent Spud in as a spy to find the men.
They let a few days pass. Then, apart, they quietly drifted into Durango. Cole did not like his boss riding alone, but Chet told him that guards would draw attention. After the long day in the saddle, he felt stiff when he put the horse in the stables and told the man who ran the livery his secret word for the man who might need him.
He went by the hotel restaurant for lunch and soon found himself seated with a woman wearing a veil, black gloves, and the black dress of a widow.
She didn’t bother to lift the veil but began to shed her long gloves. “You are the man from Prescott, Arizona Territory?”
“Yes. My name is Chet Byrnes. I live there. What may I do for you?”
Gloves off, she raised the veil and then unpinned the black hat and set it in the empty chair. “My name is Wanda Hampton. I am the widow of the deceased Carlton Hampton and I want to speak to you about some important matters.”
“I am a rancher. I can’t imagine what I could do for you.”
She shook her head while the waiter asked for a drink order.
“I will take a red wine. French if you have some.”
“I’ll take some coffee.”
“You don’t drink?”
“No ma’am. I ordered the coffee. Now what do you need from me?”
“I have a large ranch and men are stealing my cattle.”
“Have you reported the thefts to the local law officers?”
“Yes. They do nothing. They say they can’t catch them or are too busy to go find them.”
“I am here on business, Mrs. Hampton. I fear I have no facilities or men to solve your problems here.”
“Mr. Byrnes, I am desperate. The law won’t help me. These outlaws are taking my cattle. Is there not any justice left in America?”
“There is and I will inquire tomorrow and see what I can do to help you.”
“Thank you. You are a very handsome man and I was told you help people like me who are at the obvious reckless abandonment of the law.”
“I will try, Mrs. Hampton.”
“My name is Wanda; please call me this.”
“Yes, if you wish. Do you wish to share supper with me?”
“If I am not interrupting anything?”
“No. I just arrived in town.”
“Oh, that is why it was easy to meet up with you. I had expected you would be harder to find.”
“Someone tell you I was in town?”
“Yes. Carl Skinner at the law office of Thurman, Collins and Greener.”
“Is he a resident of Durango?”
“Now, I believe he is. He just came from Arizona to work for Mr. Collins.”
“Wanda, I must ask you tell no one about our meeting. Not many people know I am here, and my purpose is to arrest some murderers of a family friend who are in hiding here.”
She put her hands to her face. “Oh, I am so sorry, I merely thought about my own problems.”
“Fine. I will have my man Cole Emerson investigate your case. But no words about it to anyone.”
“My dear. I won’t tell a soul.”
He almost shook his head. This woman in her thirties held no interest to him. She lived in the same world as his aunt. Louise, JD’s mother, who was married to Harold Parker, had that Southern aristocracy touch. That same touch that his first wife Margaret discarded to attract him.
“Maybe we can find a solution.”
“I am imposing on you?”
“No. My mind is very busy trying to solve another problem without any connection to yours.”
“You have a wife?”
“Yes. A very lovely lady. Her name is Elizabeth. She was a widow who lost her husband in a robbery-murder and was looking for some horses I raise. We met and I courted her, and she agreed to marry me and move to my ranch.”
“You lost another woman?”
“Yes, in a jumper accident.”
“Oh, that is very sad.”
“She wanted to ride her jumpers. She had done it all her life and I could not tell her what I feared the most. But it happened and God took her from me.”
Upset that some attorney in town had known about him and the fact that he was in town, he had forgotten that they had ordered food until it arrived. They quietly ate.
“I am sure Mr. Skinner had no malice in pointing you out to me as a person of significant power who would be able to help me.”
“I am sure about that too, but I will ask him for less help.”
She smiled. “I imagine when you are not caught up in serious business there is some humor in you.”
“Some, Wanda. I have some.”
“Is this matter that brought you here that serious?”
“Yes. In a raid some vicious men killed a man’s wife. She was a very outstanding lady and my friend.”
“Do you know the killers?”
“No. But I will find them.”
She nodded, picking at her food on the plate with her fork. “I feel very fortunate to have met you, Chet Byrnes. I must say I am a little envious of your wife—she must really miss you.”
“She usually rides with me, but this was going to be a hard situation until we found them and I asked her to stay behind.”
“Really. She rides with you?”
“Last year we found a huge lost herd out in west Texas and drove them around Kansas to Nebraska.”
“Really?”
“It is too long a story to tell you the details, but she rode on horseback all the way from Arizona to west Texas and then to Ogallala, Nebraska, with me.”
“Oh, she must be athletic.”
“She is a very pretty lady and a sterling person. In payment for her helping me I took her by stage to Denver and we attended an opera.”
With the napkin she swept her face and smiled. “You, sir, are a husband deluxe. I’d give a lot to have attended an opera.”
“No, just a Texas-born cowboy.”
“No. You are much more than that. May I give you my card to give to your man so he may find me?”
“That would be enough.”
“May I pay for my meal?”
“No, I invited you to eat. Cole will find you. He is very resourceful.”
“Would it disturb your wife if I wrote and told her how kind you were to me and how much I appreciate you?”
“Elizabeth Byrnes, Post Office Box Thirty-Four, Prescott, Arizona Territory.”
“Here is my card.”
He rose, accepted the card, and thanked her.
He was to meet Cole at breakfast in a café back room the next morning. He also needed to go by and tell Attorney Skinner to not point him out.
In his hotel bed he tossed and turned all night. What was Spud doing? Late into the night, he closed his eyes at last and slept for a few hours.