Blood on the Verde River (29 page)

Chet could have used a good hot cup of coffee. He wasn't a Mormon. Oh, he could imagine a cup of rich coffee served by his wife or Monica. He missed both of them. Oh well, the road home got under way in the morning.

Before he left, he thanked Mrs. Kimes for the dinner.

Chet, Jesus, and Cole went to check on the Marconis in the shed. It stunk of piss and human waste. Their cold silent glares told Chet they were still mean killer dogs who, unleashed, would try for his throat.

Evans, chained again, was put in with them. He sprawled on the ground with a blanket, his leg iron locked to a thick pole. He and the Marconis had been fed beans and bread by the Kimes's help.

Chet and his men put out their bedrolls in the guest cabin. The horse herd had been fed grain, hayed, and watered. When Chet laid down at last in his bedroll, his back muscles complained. All he could think was they'd soon be trudging home—not near fast enough for him.

At dawn, he examined the big black horses who were breathing steam. They did look gaunt, but solid—ready to go.

Leroy agreed they'd be a handful, but even with the wagon loaded with the prisoners and some saddles, it would not be a problem for the big horses. “I can drive them. What do they call them?”

“Gill is the left one, Coby is on the right,” said the youth who'd brought them.

Leroy thanked him.

The prisoners were marched out, chained, and locked at the ankles. Then they were loaded by a ramp and all sat down in the bed at the same time huddled under their own blankets.

Chet let Leroy drive out first. He was fearful the big team might run over Kathrin's buggy if they were spooked. He waved her in next, and his two men drove the horse band out of the corral. He paid Kimes all he owed him, and for the care of the prisoners. The U.S. marshal service would repay most of it, and he could certainly find a use at the ranch for the big horses. He mounted his horse and followed the others.

An edge of high clouds were moving in from the north when he found a place in the pines that gave him a good view of that direction. He considered them harbingers of snow. He shook his head then booted his horse to the right to bring a stray grazer back into the horse herd—one who had veered aside to snatch a mouthful of bunch grass.

So many things rode on his mind—his sister and Sarge, Hampt with the herd headed for New Mexico, the main ranch, and all his operations. Plus Reg and Lucy who must think he'd left them. Oh well. He booted the roan off the mountain.

Up ahead, Leroy was managing the big horses, holding the wagon back on the steepest grades handily. That pleased Chet. The man was a real driver. The way down and off the Kaibab was a tough mountain road and he'd be glad to be at the base by nightfall.

They stopped on a flat place to give the horses a rest. He dismounted and checked on Kathrin. “You doing all right?”

“Oh yes.” She was on the ground stretching and bending. “I am a hundred percent better. Where did you meet your wife?”

“On a stage coach coming from Hayden's Mill to Preskitt.”

“Oh.”

“I was looking for a new ranch in Arizona. My family was involved in a family feud in Texas. We needed a new address.”

“Do you like Arizona?” Kathrin asked.

“We're doing well here.”

“Sounds like it. Cole and Jesus have told me lots about you. I consider myself fortunate to be in this train.”

“If you hang on, we'll find you a new future.”

“I look forward to that. And I mean what I say.” She paused, ready to get back in her rig. “Thanks.”

He gave her a high sign then turned his horse. Prisoners reloaded and seated in the wagon, he waved to Leroy to head out.

Standing in the wagon, Leroy spoke to the big horses and they began to start out in a movement very much like a dance that singled out their breeding.

Kathrin's mare and buggy went next and then the horses led by a dun gelding that was bossy and barred his teeth at any challengers who wanted to pass him. Leaders like that kept a band of horses together like a bell mare.

The grumbling prisoners were a pain in Chet's backside and he wished he had them all in jail. He tried to ignore them, but they were a constant complaining force. The cold air and increasing bank of clouds made him conscious that things could grow worse before the gray day was over. They crossed House Rock Valley under the side of the red rim of the Vermillion Cliffs.

Mid-morning it began to snow—dry flakes, at first, on his cheek. He trotted the roan to the front of the train and on a high place, viewed the far away gap concealing the ferry. It would be another day reaching there, with or without snow. He nodded to Leroy and shook his head. “This is all we needed.”

Over the clop of hooves, rattle of wheels, and jingle of harness, Leroy said. “Hey, I am free. That is better than the weather.”

Chet gave him a thumbs-up sign and rode back for the others. It was a great third day for Leroy who had barely lived, tied up as a hostage for over a month. Chet nodded to Kathrin as he went by her and she made a face at the snow.

He shrugged. “I can't help it. We will make it. Have no fear.”

She smiled.

In the back, he spoke with Cole and Jesus bringing on the horse herd.

“This snow looks like it's going get worse,” Cole said.

“As a south Texan, I saw only one snow that covered the ground,” Chet said. “It melted by noon the next day.”

Cole shook his head. “I loved Nebraska in the summer, but my winter there it snowed early and never let up. Folks said it was the worst one in years, but I didn't want to be there for another record.”

“My first snow was the first winter I came to work at Preskitt,” Jesus said. “I had heard of it. But when I slid down on my butt, I knew it was going to be crazy to work in.”

They laughed.

Noontime, they stopped and ate a cold lunch—beef jerky and cold biscuits. Chet was saving the small amount of firewood stored in the wagon for the night's fire. The prisoners were allowed to empty their bladders and then they squatted under blankets, grumbling.

“We should be turned loose,” Old man Marconi complained.

“Yeah.” Evans added. “We will sure freeze to death.”

“My alternative is to tie a rope around all your necks and then tie it to the wagon. You can run to keep up with those big horses. That would warm you up.”

“That would get us drug,” Evans said.

“You aren't as dumb as I thought you were. Now shut up or I will gag you.” Chet pointed at the outlaws. “Load up. I will still shoot you if you try anything, snow or no snow.”

They moved out again. The snow stopped, but it began again when they reached a watering hole in late afternoon. The weary business of unloading the prisoners went on again. Building a cooking fire was up to Jesus and Kathrin. The horses, after being watered, ate from nosebags. Snow really began to fall in large flakes. Chet shook his head at the turn in the weather while making certain the chain on the prisoners was locked on a wagon wheel.

“You going to let us freeze to death out here?” Evans demanded.

Chet shrugged. “I don't really care what happens to you.”

“I know that. Maybe your men would turn us loose if you were dead.”

“I imagine they'd vote to hang you on the first tree they found and not have to listen to your mouth.”

“My lawyer—”

Chet kicked him in the leg. “Shut up.”

“Don't upset him,” Old man Marconi said.

“I don't give a damn. He's going to let us freeze to death out here.”

“Better listen to him, Evans.” Chet walked away. His concern was getting all of them out of this desolate land.

 

 

Chet talked to Leroy and the others at the campfire.

“This snow shouldn't hamper us getting to Lee's Ferry,” Leroy said. “But we've got four days to get to the Marcy Road and about a half of one to get to that sawmill.”

Chet agreed. “We can rest there.”

“That Cameron trading post on the Little Colorado, we can rest there, too,” Leroy said.

“You are talking about almost two weeks drive to get back.”

Leroy nodded. “It will take us that long to get to Preskitt.”

“I am not complaining, but I'd sure like to be there already.” Chet shook his head. It would be step by step.

He rolled up in his bedroll thinking about his wife. She was in a warm bed, anyway. He'd sure like to be there with her. His guard duty was the last one. He better get some sleep while he could.

 

 

They reached the ferry midday and Lee met them in the melting, slushy snow. Their crossing would take lots of time and several trips. The horse herd would go on the last two. Lee also sold them a rick of wood and some hay that was loaded into the wagon. The grain Chet bought went on the pack animals.

The trips began and in no time the prisoners and wagon were across. Chet and Leroy guarded them. Kathrin and the buggy went next with the saddle horses, and Chet rode back to help get the loose horses loaded. They didn't like the hollow sounding barge but the first were soon over, and they were winched back for the last load. Mrs. Lee, a British lady, had generously fed them all, including the prisoners. Chet paid her ten dollars for her effort after he settled the fare, grain, and fire wood charges with Lee.

She was so excited and thanked him as he was going out the door. “Oh that is so generous of you, sir. Come again please.”

He thanked her again and headed back to the ferry.

Jesus waited for him and the last of the ponies to arrive. The others had gone on ahead to get as much distance as they could before dark. Lee and his helper brought the rest of the herd onto the ferry.

“I am so glad we made it this far.” Jesus crossed himself.

“Me too,
amigo
. I will be damn glad to be home and may not leave the house for a century.”

Jesus laughed. “I bet you are gone in two weeks, helping someone.”

Bundled against the sharp wind, Chet smiled. He hoped his man was wrong about that.

 

 

Three cold days later, they reached the large trading post at Cameron. Chet bought another rick of wood and loaded it in the wagon.

He sent Kathrin shopping for their food needs. Her concern was they'd be much higher priced than at Preskitt and she'd limit them to their real needs. He thanked her for her concern. It had been a costly trip, but more than worthwhile. The Wells Fargo rewards for the three stage robbers would please his two men, too. The three faced murder charges as well.

His back was sore from riding so far in the saddle and sleeping on the cold ground. Home would be a wonderful relief.

 

 

The next morning, they were moving south again—over fifty miles left to get to the fork in the road.

Bone weary, they stopped, camped and turned in early. He felt certain the next night they would sleep at the sawmill. The snow was crunchy under foot, only the ruts were icy.

In the bitter cold with a blanket over his shoulders, he served his guard time, seating cross-legged, breathing out large clouds of vapor, and keeping the fire going for the morning cooking needs.

Kathrin came awake early and began to make preparations. “You will be glad to home?”

“Amen to that. We will be at the sawmill tonight and sleep in beds, I hope.”

“Then the next day at your ranch?”

“You bet.”

“I hope I don't make your wife mad—I mean, being with you all this way.”

“You won't. She doesn't worry about those kinds of things. We are together and that is all that is important.”

“She's lucky.”

“No. Her first husband died in the war. Number two was thrown off a horse and died. As a last resort, she ended up with me.” He laughed.

Kathrin shook her head about the time Jesus came to join them. “Your boss says his wife is not lucky having him and he was the last resort.”

“Oh, I am glad to be here, 'cause at home she would be walking the floors and asking me, ‘You think he is all right?'”

They all laughed.

They soon had the prisoners and crew up. Her hot breakfast of pan-fried potatoes and bacon, along with Dutch-oven biscuits even made the prisoners shut up. In an hour, they were on the road again. The sun felt some warmer. The big horses jogged and they made great time reaching the junction and at last the sawmill in mid-afternoon.

Robert ran out to greet them. “Who did you arrest?”

“A kidnapper and three murderers.” Chet pointed to the buggy, then the wagon. “This is Kathrin, and the hostage we rescued is Leroy Scales.” He wheeled the roan around. “Take a couple men away from the sawmill work and relieve my men of guarding the prisoners. Find her a private, safe place. I am going to the Verde Ranch. They can all drive on down there tomorrow.”