Read Online Between Hell and Texas by Dusty Richards - Free Book Online Page B

days separating them. It was a mess.”
    â€œGood luck, boys,” Chet said. “Thanks for taking Kathren’s cattle along, and your outfit for getting them up for her.”
    â€œNo problem. Mr. Byrnes, we also appreciate the horses and the credit. Without your horses and the bar-C cattle consigned to us as well as the people you recommended, we’d have had a mighty small drive. This way we all can make a profit,” Elgin said, as he stood to shake Chet’s hand and the other two.
    Chet felt glad he wasn’t going north that spring. His body still ached and probably would for six more months—the sharpness was down to where he could handle most of it. He headed back for his room—a short siesta might make him stay awake a while longer after supper.
    On his bunk, he stared at the ropes of the bed over him. The smell in the bunkhouse reeked of old socks with the windows closed all winter. Soon they’d all be open and the smell of horses and livestock would drift in. He rolled over; he’d be ready for spring....
    â€œChet,” Reg called him from the doorway. “Supper is on at the house.”
    â€œOh, guess I overslept. I’ll be there.” He mopped his face in his calloused hands and shook his head as he sat up.
    â€œGood.”
    They had waited, and he felt embarrassed finding them standing there, held up for him to arrive as he told them to bow for a prayer. His brief words of their gratefulness to the Lord ended with amen. Everyone sat down.
    The bowls of food soon circled the table and everyone worked to select their choices. Susie joined them as the two kitchen girls refilled the bowls and poured coffee. It was good and bad for him to be home. He was eating food seasoned and cooked like he knew it—but Kathren wasn’t there. He missed her picking on him. Little things. No way to explain—he simply missed her.
    Mashed potatoes and rich flour gravy made a big hit on his palate. The rest was mouthwatering. The meal over, he lingered in the house while the girls cleaned up. Sipping coffee, he tried to lay out things the outfit would need to do before summer.
    â€œI need to get some supplies this week,” Susie said. “You want to go along?”
    â€œI reckon.”
    â€œGood. We’ll go right after breakfast.”
    That settled, he thanked them and started for the bunkhouse. The temperature outside was pleasant. He walked along thinking about what he’d need to do to be sure everyone was safe. Those other two gunfighters had vanished after Kathren shot the one at her place. He hoped she was doing alright. Too much to think about.
    Chet’s night was fraught with wild dreams and things he couldn’t save—he dreamt they’d taken one of the females in the family as a hostage. But he couldn’t see who she was that they kidnapped. He woke up in a cold sweat. His sleep was worse than reality.
    After breakfast, he and Susie left for Mayfield in the buckboard. A leather scabbard on the dashboard carried a loaded Winchester, in case. Clouds were rolling in and the temperature was muggy. Some good rain wouldn’t hurt the newly planted corn or the oats. That morning, the Mexican crew was busy planting Susie’s potato eyes in the three acres they had broken for her garden. He left Reg in charge of that operation. J.D. and Heck were going after an orphaned calf to raise on a milk cow. Things were close to settled down again, and he was mending faster by the day.
    Mayfield in mid-morning looked busy for a weekday. Two delivery rigs were at the store unloading. Both saloons had customers with hip-shot, ungroomed horses at their hitch racks. Two farm wagons were at the blacksmith’s shop, no doubt repairing farm machinery.
    â€œGonna rain?” Buddy Fracker asked as Chet started to enter the store’s open doors.
    â€œClouds don’t look thick enough,” he told the middle-aged man wearing a