of hearing.
“I never said I did or didn’t,” said Chet. “Rustlers are rustlers. It was no joke. They stole my entire remuda, and I caught up with them this side of the Red River, somewhere west of Fort Worth.”
“You don’t need to explain it to me, but you better watch your back is all I can say.”
“I just wanted you to know how it happened.”
Jim made a sharp nod. “Sorry, I understand, but it looks bad. I better get back and check on my mare.”
Chet watched him ride out. Dale Allen joined him. “What did Jim want?”
“Reynolds knows who hung their boy.”
“Son of a bitch.”
It was only a matter of time until he knew anyhow. Hell, Chet had whipped the Comanche. How much worse could those loud-mouthed Georgia crackers be?
Chapter 7
The dust churned by the buckboard the next afternoon signaled his crew’s return from Mason. He relaxed when he saw both women on the seat and another in the back. Good. Susie must have found some help. Reg and J.C. were loping ahead of them.
The boys dropped off their horses at the corral.
“Well,” Reg said. “They’re bringing their bodies back. We seen them in Mason with three pine boxes. Funeral’s tomorrow. We going to go?”
“I guess we should pay our respects to the dead,” Chet said.
“Hell, have we got to wear ties and coats?”
Chet nodded. “Won’t kill us.”
“One of you boys go help Susie unload,” Dale Allen said to them.
Reg started to say something, then handed his reins to his brother and set out for the house. Why did Dale Allen order those boys around like that? It made Chet about half mad, too. Everyone pitched in and helped, but that surly way Dale Allen had of speaking to them got under Chet’s hide, too.
“I guess we all could go help her,” Chet said, and started that way as J.D. began to unsaddle.
“I got these, Chet,” said J.D.
“Good.”
“How was Mason?”’ Chet asked Reg as they walked across the yard.
“Fine, but I saw something there.” He looked around and then lowered his voice. “Jake Porter was up there. I seen his team in a lot. You’d recognize them a mile away.”
“What was he doing?”
Reg shrugged and then grinned big. “He was staying there at some widow woman’s house. It’s a big fancy place. They called it Colonel Bridges House. Two-story and brick. He never came out while we were there.”
“Hmmm,” Chet said. “That’s kind of open, isn’t it?”
“I guess he had his reasons.”
“Yeah,” Reg said. “Like that fella up north has with that Mexican woman.”
Dale Allen frowned at what they meant, but the rest laughed.
“Susie get someone to help?” Chet asked.
Reg nodded. “Her name’s Astria.”
“Good.”
“Susie, how did it go?” Chet said as she came out and pushed a wave of brown hair back from her face with a smile.
“I found material, some items I couldn’t get in Mayfield, and I hired Astria Valdez.”
The men swept off their hats for the girl in her teens on the porch who looked very self-conscious biting her lip and nodding at them. Slender and maybe fourteen, she looked taken aback by all the people that Susie introduced. Then everyone took something inside.
Chet spoke to her in Spanish. “We are glad to have you here, Astria.”
“I am grateful that the señorita hired me. This is a large hacienda and a pretty place to live. Gracias .”
“You will be a family member here.”
“I will try, señor .”
“No, Susie is very fair. You will like her.”
“Oh, I do already.”
He nodded and took a load of purchases inside. He still did not understand what Jake Porter was doing in Mason at some widow’s house when he’d told Marla he was going to San Antonio. Would that knowledge change Marla’s mind about leaving him? Chet better not tell her. Telling gossip wasn’t his game. She’d find out. Someone would slip and Chet would be there. The notion made him feel stronger about reaching some permanent arrangement with her.
On
“I never said I did or didn’t,” said Chet. “Rustlers are rustlers. It was no joke. They stole my entire remuda, and I caught up with them this side of the Red River, somewhere west of Fort Worth.”
“You don’t need to explain it to me, but you better watch your back is all I can say.”
“I just wanted you to know how it happened.”
Jim made a sharp nod. “Sorry, I understand, but it looks bad. I better get back and check on my mare.”
Chet watched him ride out. Dale Allen joined him. “What did Jim want?”
“Reynolds knows who hung their boy.”
“Son of a bitch.”
It was only a matter of time until he knew anyhow. Hell, Chet had whipped the Comanche. How much worse could those loud-mouthed Georgia crackers be?
Chapter 7
The dust churned by the buckboard the next afternoon signaled his crew’s return from Mason. He relaxed when he saw both women on the seat and another in the back. Good. Susie must have found some help. Reg and J.C. were loping ahead of them.
The boys dropped off their horses at the corral.
“Well,” Reg said. “They’re bringing their bodies back. We seen them in Mason with three pine boxes. Funeral’s tomorrow. We going to go?”
“I guess we should pay our respects to the dead,” Chet said.
“Hell, have we got to wear ties and coats?”
Chet nodded. “Won’t kill us.”
“One of you boys go help Susie unload,” Dale Allen said to them.
Reg started to say something, then handed his reins to his brother and set out for the house. Why did Dale Allen order those boys around like that? It made Chet about half mad, too. Everyone pitched in and helped, but that surly way Dale Allen had of speaking to them got under Chet’s hide, too.
“I guess we all could go help her,” Chet said, and started that way as J.D. began to unsaddle.
“I got these, Chet,” said J.D.
“Good.”
“How was Mason?”’ Chet asked Reg as they walked across the yard.
“Fine, but I saw something there.” He looked around and then lowered his voice. “Jake Porter was up there. I seen his team in a lot. You’d recognize them a mile away.”
“What was he doing?”
Reg shrugged and then grinned big. “He was staying there at some widow woman’s house. It’s a big fancy place. They called it Colonel Bridges House. Two-story and brick. He never came out while we were there.”
“Hmmm,” Chet said. “That’s kind of open, isn’t it?”
“I guess he had his reasons.”
“Yeah,” Reg said. “Like that fella up north has with that Mexican woman.”
Dale Allen frowned at what they meant, but the rest laughed.
“Susie get someone to help?” Chet asked.
Reg nodded. “Her name’s Astria.”
“Good.”
“Susie, how did it go?” Chet said as she came out and pushed a wave of brown hair back from her face with a smile.
“I found material, some items I couldn’t get in Mayfield, and I hired Astria Valdez.”
The men swept off their hats for the girl in her teens on the porch who looked very self-conscious biting her lip and nodding at them. Slender and maybe fourteen, she looked taken aback by all the people that Susie introduced. Then everyone took something inside.
Chet spoke to her in Spanish. “We are glad to have you here, Astria.”
“I am grateful that the señorita hired me. This is a large hacienda and a pretty place to live. Gracias .”
“You will be a family member here.”
“I will try, señor .”
“No, Susie is very fair. You will like her.”
“Oh, I do already.”
He nodded and took a load of purchases inside. He still did not understand what Jake Porter was doing in Mason at some widow’s house when he’d told Marla he was going to San Antonio. Would that knowledge change Marla’s mind about leaving him? Chet better not tell her. Telling gossip wasn’t his game. She’d find out. Someone would slip and Chet would be there. The notion made him feel stronger about reaching some permanent arrangement with her.
On
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