“He's a good man,” Lucy said.
“Jesus and I are proud Miguel joined us. Raphael and I go back to when outlaws stole some good horses, shot the ranch foreman and his jingle bob man. He and I were tracking them. I left him there to protect the bodies because we knew another posse might be coming so I went on. The deputy leading the second posse wouldn't let him go and catch up with me. He has regretted it ever since.”
Jesus smiled. “I bet that desk deputy won't tell him that today. He was too nice back then and uncertain. Today he runs the ranch.”
Chet nodded in agreement.
The next day they rode with Shawn and saw how good things looked and how orderly set up things were. Spud bowed out to work on cutting out any cows close to calving. He had one pasture-born one but he was stout and after a few tries to catch him, Spud left him with his momma. “Hell, he'll make it.”
Spud's wife Shirley lived in a log house on a homestead close to the ranch, so they stopped by to see her. She invited them in and served them coffee. She was very happy to see them come by.
“He told me before he left you'd come by and I was to be sure to tell you how badly he treats me and what poor conditions we live in up here.”
They all laughed with her.
“I have learned a lot about orphans since I married him. All the orphans you have saved, and other not so well treated.”
“What's that about?” Chet asked.
“Well several of us have had such poor treatment from others that anyone nice to us is grand.”
Chet told her he understood.
More snow melted each day. When they rode into Hackberry, Chet met the black blacksmith Deacon Moore again. The man showed him how well he was rebuilding the farm equipment for the next season. Chet thanked him and agreed that Shawn's decision to keep the work here was a sound one. They had more than enough work at the Verde Ranch blacksmith shop.
Back at the ranch, Shawn took Chet aside and told him how he was so proud to have Lucy as his wife. They were a team, and her daughter was like one of his own. “Chet, if I had planned it could not have come out any better. She is such a wonderful wife and we love each other. I wanted a chance with her. I got it thanks to you. I'm very happy and so is she.”
“Good. And all on the ranch is working well.”
“Yes. And Spud is great. He gets more done than two big men. I see why you sent him to help me. He is a hardworking super person, and he knows these people up here. The crew respects him like they do me. I first wondered about his wife, Shirley, but Lucy and I love her. She had made a bad decision to run off with that guy, but she's solid now. They make a good pair.”
“Things look good. I am certain the four of you will succeed.”
It took them five days to get back home. A ranch hand drove Jesus to town in a buckboard. Lisa came over to hug and kiss her man. Then she thanked Chet for taking him and bringing him back in one piece, and standing on her toes, she kissed him on the cheek.
“I did that to make Liz jealous,” she teased, and they both laughed.
Only a step away, his wife also laughed. His arm secure in hers she shook her head. “Lisa can be a devil.”
“No. She came here one. You turned her to angelic.”
“Have you already forgotten how you said I needed to stop her cussing and I'd have a great daughter?”
“You did that to her.”
She squeezed his arm. “I agree we did.”
He wondered what was holding up any action on the building of the telegraph. Things must be fuzzy about the money involved or they'd be chomping at the bit for him to get poles and a pathway going. No telling. At least he was home to stay for a while anyway.
“How is Lucy's baby?”
“His name is Clem. He's a large boy. Shawn and Lucy act very solid together. No tension. It's like they've been together forever. The little girl crawls all over him and Spud.”
“That sounds heavenly.”
“It's nice, but I am happy to be back here with you and glad most of the snow is gone.”
“Amen.”
C
HAPTER
11
A couple drove up in an unpainted wagon. She wore a worn shawl against the chill over a wash-faded dress that looked patched. He had a gray mustache and dismounted in the stiff manner of having arthritis when he came down off the wagon. The horses were longhaired and had not been brushed lately.
The man helped the woman down and they headed for the back stairs.
Monica was standing beside Chet. “Here comes more trouble, as if you need any.”
“Who is it?” Liz asked from the kitchen, taking the browned biscuits out of the oven.
Reaching out a hand to shake, Chet said, “Hello. I'm Chet Byrnes. What can I do for you?”
“Claude Cannon and this is my wife, Edna. We hoped to talk to you, sir.”
“We are about to eat lunch. We have plenty of food. Need help on the steps?”
“No, sir. We will have to take our time but we can climb them.”
“Come easy.”
Monica set plates for the newcomers. Liz looked at her for an answer. Monica shrugged. Both visitors washed their hands, apologizing for the timing of their arrival at mealtime.
“No problem. Come on in. That is my wife, Liz, and this is Monica who runs the house.”
“Good to meet you all.”
Everyone seated, Chet gave a prayer and they nodded amen.
“Mr. Cannon, why did you come?”
“We have a daughter named Cary. She's seventeen. Despite our warning her she has left with a worthless no account devil of a man.”
His wife, tears slipping down her face, said, “I fear he will kill her when he tires of her.”
“Where did they go?”
He said, “I think he took her to Tombstone.”
“Where do you two live?”
“We live near Hayden's Ferry. Harry Olson told us you might help us. He and his wife heard about our problem. He told us how you had rescued his wife, Marcella, from those kidnappers.”
“His wife was kidnapped. Your daughter left with this man. There is a difference.”
“No. We think he drugged her to get her to go,” his wife said.
“Who is this man?”
“Charles, but they call him Chuck Hadley. He never works and we think she was drugged and he is taking her to sell her in the white slave trade.”
“Do you have a picture of her?”
His wife brought an oval portrait, sealed in a tintype, out from her pocket. The girl looked like a lot of teen girls in braids. Pale skin but not a real beautiful girl. Still, she had white skin, and they would fetch a higher price on the list of such traders.
“You know teen girls disappear all the time. Most never come back or are never seen again.”
The father nodded. “The only chance we have is for you to try to find her. A few years ago, I'd gone down there myself to find her or be killed. But I am no good at fighting or with a gun anymore.”
“I will go look. How long has she been gone?”
“Five days.”
“I better have someone to get hold of Miguel and send word to Jesus. We can catch the stage at midnight.”
Liz stared at him. “You just got home.”
“Time is all-important in these cases, Liz. We will go look for her, but I can't promise anything.”
“Oh, thank the Lord. Sir, I have no treasures to give you, but I will pray for you every day that I live.”
“I don't need that. But what we may find could break your heart. You understand that?”
The Cannons both nodded solemnly.
“Excuse me.”
He went outside and asked one of the stable boys to go find Miguel. The boy nodded and ran off. Back inside, he told them they must stay for the night, but he and his team would be ready to pull out at midnight.
Miguel was there shortly.
“Someone has taken their daughter, they think, to Tombstone. They suspect there's foul play. We are going to check on where she might be. We are taking the stage at midnight.”
Miguel nodded. “I will send someone to go tell Jesus.”
“Yes. He can meet us at the stage.”
Liz excused herself to prepare him a war bag. Monica showed the worried couple a bedroom where they could sleep.
Chet and Liz privately discussed his plans. “Two and a half days to get there. We won't stay long if we can't find her, but we will look everywhere we can and be thorough.”
“So, I can expect you back in a week?”
“I don't know how long, but I will be back as soon as possible.”
“I know, and I know you have a big heart. You also have a good record of recovery. I hope for her parents' sake you find her.”
“So do I.”
At the stage office, he hugged Anita. “I am sorry I need Jesus again so soon.”
“Oh, I know. He is always ready. I expect this after being with you two so long. I should have married him two years ago. Even with all his trips with you, I have found it is a nice way to live.”
Lisa was also there, waiting in the cool night, and he talked to her. “I am stealing your man again.”
“That is okay. He really likes his job and I am his strongest supporter. You are challenging him to do more than herd cows. He is learning. He will someday be a Cole Emerson and run something for you.”
“I think so, too.”
“Good. Be careful; we all need you.”
When he and Liz were alone: “Lisa is learning to deal with all this, too, isn't she?”
“She doesn't miss a thing. Bet you noticed that she has him wearing a cowboy hat like Jesus does. Not a
sombrero
.”
“That was her change?”
“I bet it was. I will find out.” She chuckled.
They left off on another trip to save a girl. Like looking for a thumbnail-size gold nugget in a stream. It would take lots of pan swishing. Maybe they'd find her. He hoped so.
They had a two-hour layover in Tucson late the next day, so the men ate at Jesus's cousin's café. Then they rode the stage to Tombstone. It was after ten o'clock when the weary travelers arrived. He got two rooms while they went to the
barrio
. If there were anything on the wind, they'd know about it before the night was over.
He made rounds of the saloons, spoke to some men he knew, showed them the picture of the girl, and asked for their silence in not telling the world. No one had seen her at any of the parlor houses. A new girl working, someone would have seen or heard about her. But Hadley might not be there with her yet, depending on his mode of transportation. She'd been gone a week by that time.
He went to bed before midnight and in the morning met Jesus and Miguel at the small café they knew served a good breakfast. In those early hours, the night chill remained. But still much warmer than the mornings at home. The biscuits were hot enough to make a little steam when opened.
“Nothing about her last night. I might have to put a reward out for her return,” Jesus said.
“Good idea. You know, Chuck Hadley may not be here yet.”
Both men nodded.
They rented some horses and checked in some places in Fairbanks and Charleston. But no one knew Hadley by that name or had seen the girl. Chet had hoped someone knew something, but so far nothing had turned up.
Day two a man on the boardwalk stopped by him and under his breath asked if he'd found the girl.
Chet shook his head, ready to cross the street.
“Would you pay two hundred dollars for her?”
“Sure. How do I get her?”
“Tear two one-hundred-dollar bills in half. When you get her you pay the rest to the one delivering her.”
“When?”
“I will leave word at the hotel where to get her. All these men that sell women are tough and will kill you if you try anything.”
“I want her alive or no deal.”
He nodded and stepped off to cross the street. Chet saw he was not a cowboy or businessman. Plain work clothes, no hat, he guessed him around thirty years old with brown hair. He didn't know him.
He tore two one-hundred-dollar bills in half and put half of each in an envelope. Stuck the remaining parts back in his wallet. How would he get the first halves to the snitch? What was this man's position in the deal? Time would tell. Jesus and Miguel were still off somewhere. Maybe someone would be in the lobby. No sign of him. As he stepped outside a man standing in the dark stepped closer. “I made the deal. But he wants a hundred more.”
“I'll find someone else.” He figured it was a stall for more money.
“She is very nice. She might get hurt if you wait too long.”
“Two hundred was the price.”
“Give me the money.”
Chet handed him the two halves in the envelope. “I want her unharmed.”
He nodded and went away. Chet went into the hotel to sit and wait.
The shakedown for more money was part of every deal everywhere and every time. That much money would buy her. Mexican women were available for much cheaper.
Jesus came by him in the lobby and went upstairs. Since Chet did not talk to him, he knew there was something about to happen. Miguel did the same and went upstairs. The new man learned fast.
The snitch was back. He showed himself in the doorway, then went back out. Chet rose. He hoped his boys had figured things out. Once he joined the man, the guy led the way down the block and stopped at an alley.
“Third door on right. It isn't a trick; he needs the money.”
“I can kill you if you've lied to me,” Chet said, and paid the man ten dollars.
The man took it like he expected it. “No. He wants the money.”
Chet twisted the knob from the side to open the door. Nothing. He stepped inside and saw a candle on a table. On a bed he could make out a form wrapped up in a sheetâeither sleeping or dead. A masked man stood in the shadows.
“If she's dead you are, too.”
“Not dead. Give me the money.”
He really wanted to give him a bullet, but he took the second halves out of his wallet, handed them to the man under the flour sack mask, who had reached forward. Chet then stepped over to the bed. The man ran out the door. There was a scream. Chet knew his men had him.
His ear to the girl's mouth he could feel her breathing, but it was slow. What had he given her? Damn.
“We have him,” Jesus said.
“Ask him what he gave her.”
“Nothing.”
“I don't care what you do to him, Jesus. We need an answer or she might die.”
“Just laudanum.”
“Is she naked?”
“Yes.”
Nothing he could do to dress her, so they'd take her in the sheet.
“Miguel, can you carry her. We need her taken to a doctor.”
“I can. She is small.” He bent over and soon had her wrapped in the sheet and in his arms.
“Any of you seen a doctor's office?” Chet asked.
“A house, block west,” Jesus said.
Miguel did not act overburdened with her in his arms, and they started for the doctor's house.
“Good. Jesus, bring this scum along.”
When they arrived at the doctor's house, Chet hurried up the porch and knocked. A bald man came to the door. “Yes?”
“A young woman has been drugged and we need your help to save her.”
“Bring her right in. How long ago was she drugged?”
Chet turned to Hadley. “When was the last time you drugged her?”
He shrugged. “About an hour ago.”
“He do this to her?”
“That and he sold her.”
“You law?” the doc asked, shaking his head.
“Yes, U.S. marshal.”
Doc nodded at Hadley. “That the son of a bitch did this to her?”
“He did and he's going to prison for doing it.”
“Can't give him enough time.”
“Agreed. My name is Chet Byrnes. That is Jesus Martinez and Miguel Costa. My deputies.”
“You live in Preskitt, don't you?” Doc asked.
“Yes.”
“She live up there?”
“No. She lived at home with her folks at Hayden's Ferry.”
Doc shook his head again.
“Her parents drove clear to my ranch and asked for my help. Said he'd kidnapped their daughter.”
“Most lawmen would have said they had more important things to do.”
“Not me. Now, what about her?”
“Let her come out of it naturally. She'll have a hangover. My wife can dress her, and I think, besides feeling bad at first, she'll recover. You putting him in jail here?”
“Not here. Too many men escape from it. I'll put him on the stage up to Benson; they will hold him there until they can take him up to Phoenix for trial.”
Jesus nodded. “I can do that.”
“When she can travel we'll stop there and fill out the papers. They can hold him without bail until then.”
“Wait up there or come back here?” Jesus asked him.
“Depends if she can travel.”
“I can take him up there on the late-night stage and take the noon one back here.”
Chet agreed. “Handcuff him.”
“Mister, I won't do him no harm.”
“Hadley, you won't do anyone harm where you're going. Handcuff him.”
While Jesus hauled him off to the stage depot, the three men went out on the porch so Doc's wife could dress her.
“You need some sleep?” Doc asked him.
“I can wait until she wakes up.” He didn't feel, until she woke up, that she might be all right.
When she finished dressing the girl, the doc's wife came out onto the dark porch. “She is reviving some.”