Deadly Is the Night by Dusty Richards Read Free Book Online Page B

property line bore the W—W brand. They were old longhorn cows with great horns, and the bulls were mixed in with the longhorn stock. Certainly not the genetic route to better beef cattle, a big factor in what their offspring were worth on any market.
    â€œThem cows have lots of age on them,” Spencer said. “I’d be surprised they can still have calves.”
    â€œThere was talk about old longhorns in Texas that were able to have calves until they were thirty-five or older.”
    â€œThese are getting close. Why so many old ones?”
    â€œHe probably bought them as cheap cows to mortgage. Bankers are not cattle graders.”
    â€œHe always has been a damn crook, hasn’t he?” Spencer asked.
    â€œTaken the easy way to go.”
    Near dark they reached the shabby headquarters and met the foreman Nye had told him about, Frisco Johns, a squat-built Mexican who greeted them with a big smile. “What can I do for you, señor?”
    â€œMr. Nye said to come meet you. My name is Chet Byrnes. The good-looking guy is my man Jesus and that other hombre is Spencer who rides with us.”
    â€œYou come to look at the ranch, señor?”
    â€œYes. For several reasons. One is what can be done with it? The second one how to do it and what can we do to get that done?”
    Amused by Chet’s words, Frisco smiled at him. “Most gringos come here ask where the ranch house is?”
    â€œI can see that. Where should it be?”
    â€œThe man who owned it before Weeks bought it never lived out here. He and his wife lived in Oracle and his vaqueros lived out here. He said his wife thought this place was too close to hell for her to live way out here and too far from town to drive for groceries.”
    â€œYou worked for him?”
    â€œAs a boy, yes, but I left when he got too old and my uncle who ran it retired to Mexico. I came back here later to run the ranch, but when Weeks bought this place he fired me. Said I made too much money and he hired boys in Mexico for little money to be his cowboys. He fed them beans and paid them ten dollars a month.
    â€œI talked to Señor Nye when his bank repossessed it, and he hired me and I found some good men to work, but now there are only eighty cows left. Before we ran four hundred cows and had grass. But now—
    â€œCome inside. My wife will fix all of you some food. We can talk more. There is hay and water in the big pen for your horses.”
    â€œI can put up the horses,” Jesus said in the last red light of sundown.
    â€œNo. One of my men, Baca, can do it. Come, the three of you, be my guests.”
    Chet thanked the man taking the horses. Then they went inside the adobe house.
    A bright-faced woman with a straight back greeted them. She was considerably younger than her husband, her dark hair pinned severely back, but her smile was warm and she was very attractive.
    â€œThis is Rosa. Rosa, these are Señor Byrnes, Jesus, and Spencer.”
    â€œChet, ma’am, and nice to meet you.”
    â€œWelcome to my house. I don’t have much company so it is a pleasure to meet you three men. Why are they here, Frisco?”
    â€œSeñor Nye sent them to look over the ranch and see what could be done with it.”
    â€œDid you tell them to go to Apache Springs and start all over?”
    â€œWhere is that, ma’am?” Chet asked.
    â€œHe can show you. Long ago the Apaches used it as a shrine or something. Everyone is afraid the Apaches would come back and burn him or her out if they built there. But now they are about all gone, who would care?”
    â€œThat danger is past.”
    â€œI can show you the place tomorrow,” Frisco said.
    â€œGood idea. Thanks, Rosa.”
    She smiled. “See, Frisco, I told you someday a smart man would come here and believe me.”
    He laughed. “She has said that for years.”
    â€œYou two have been married for years?” Chet