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Rescuing the Rancher (Cowboys and Angels Book 3) by George H. McVey, Cowboys, Angels (6)

Royce was headed southwest toward Topaz. He knew he’d reach Waylon’s ranch before he got to the little town. He didn’t spend much time in Topaz; no one did, it just wasn’t much of a town, even less than Creede. He knew that Waylon’s men would have gone to Creede if they were looking forward to blowing off a little steam. Hopefully, they had heard more information than the rumors his hands had heard. Maybe Waylon had heard something more definite about what might be going on than just a few rumors passed among drunk cowboys and miners.

Royce noticed a rider headed his way. He pulled his Winchester from its saddle boot and set it across the saddle. This was still Creede after all, and while he’d be friendly, he’d also be smart. Desperate men sometimes did desperate things and since the fire last month some men had to be very desperate. As he got closer, he relaxed and slid the rifle back in the saddle boot. He noticed his neighbor do the same thing. “Clark, didn’t expect to see you today. Heard a rumor you got married yesterday.”

“Not a rumor; I married one of the women who had gone missing. Marta Campbell was her name. She was going to California to be a nanny. When she didn’t show up, they replaced her. Since I need help with my children and the woman-work around the ranch, seemed like a good fit for both of us.”

“Shouldn’t you be home getting to know the little woman?”

Royce shook his head. “Isn’t like that, Morgan. My heart belongs to Lucy; you know that. Marta's fine with the arrangement we have.” Royce felt a little guilty about that statement because he knew it wasn’t exactly true. The words of the messenger came to his mind again and he pushed them away. “Besides, I needed to find out the truth about these rustler rumors. That’s why I was headed to your ranch. I figured if anyone knew the truth, it would be you.”

Morgan’s face hardened. “They aren’t rumors, and it isn’t just rustlers. It seems someone is trying to push the little ranchers out of the area.”

Royce’s heart sped up at that declaration. He’d heard of the types of techniques bigger ranchers sometimes used to push the little guy out of the area. None of them was good and they often led to a range war. That was something Creede didn’t need. “Do we know who?”

“No, but a couple of the smaller ranches closer to Topaz had a guy in a suit show up last few weeks offering to buy their spreads and cattle. Price was always a bit too low to make it worthwhile. Then suddenly they have cattle missing. Jefferson had several hands up and quit. All of them looking like they’d taken a beating before they left. He thinks someone encouraged them to move on. Then last night Andrew's bunkhouse and barn were torched. While he and the hands were fighting the fire, his whole herd was stolen. That’s why I was heading to Creede; I need to see whether the sheriff will take this seriously now and start investigating.”

Royce was shocked. He didn’t know all this was going on. “You mean the sheriff knows about this?”

Morgan nodded as they started riding toward Creede. “Yeah, he knows about the rumors, as he called them the last time we talked. Said there weren't enough lawmen to hunt down rustlers. He indicated that we ranchers should deal with it ourselves. He also suggested that the little guys take the offers to sell they were being given.”

Royce looked at the other rancher. “You think he’s in on it?”

Morgan shrugged. “Don’t know. Everyone knows he doesn’t do anything without Anders say so. It just struck me as strange that he knew about the offers to buy them ranches. I didn’t think Anders was interested in ranching. He’s always been willing to buy his beef from us ranchers.”

Royce grunted and thought about that. “If Archie wasn’t in jail, I’d think this was one of his schemes to make a name for himself separate from his uncle.”

“Hmm, hadn’t thought of that. Wonder if he set all this in place before he was arrested?”

“Maybe we should get the sheriff to ask him.”

Morgan shrugged again. “Don’t think he’ll be of much use. We need a real lawman here. Might have to get together with a few other ranchers and hire us a Pinkerton or two to come figure out what's going on.”

Royce’s thoughts ran in another direction. “I know a guy who is a U.S. Marshall. I could send him a wire if you want. He’d probably come investigate without charging us.”

“Let’s see what the sheriff says, but it couldn’t hurt to wire him. If he comes, great. If not, we aren’t out anything. Then we can get together with the other ranchers and talk about hiring Pinkertons."

With a plan in mind now, the two men grew silent. As one, they kicked their mounts into a gallop. They wouldn’t know what plan to take until they talked to the sheriff and found out what he was doing about the situation. They would have to do something before whoever was targeting the ranches went too far and killed someone. That thought sobered Royce. He’d have to make sure his men were armed, and start leaving someone at the ranch house until this was resolved.

Once in Creede, Royce and Waylon rode straight to the sheriff's office. As they climbed down from their horses in front of the jail, they saw Archibald Grady walking out of the front door. “What is going on?” Royce asked. “How in the world is that man walking free after what he did to all those women?”

Waylon shook his head. “Let’s go see, but I get the feeling, we’re not going to like the answer.”

The two men entered the sheriff's office in front of the jail. Royce wasted no time walking up to the dark-haired man sitting behind the desk like he didn’t have a care in the world. “How can I help you gentleman?” His voice was filled with sarcasm, letting them both know they weren’t going to be getting any real help from “Black Jack” Ketchem. Royce placed his hands on the desk and leaned toward the sheriff who hadn’t sat forward or even moved since they entered the office. He was tired of this puffed-up toad acting like he was better than the men he was supposed to work for. “Why did we see Archie Grady walking out of here a free man?”

Now Jack leaned forward, his pasty face turning red with anger. “It’s not any of your business why I let him go but I’ll tell you. I investigated the matter and found no evidence that he was involved in the kidnapping and imprisonment of those women. As a matter of fact, I can’t find much proof that those women, for the most part, weren’t there because they chose to be.”

Royce's voice went frosty with his own anger. “I’m married to one of those women, Jack. I can tell you that my wife didn’t choose to be locked in a root cellar. She was on her way to California to become a nanny for a respected family when she was waylaid.”

Jack nodded. “That’s what she said, but I saw no proof of that. I also know that the only person any of them women saw was Dougal. Even Fontaine only saw Dougal. He claimed to have heard a conversation between Archie and Dougal. That’s all well and good, but he never saw who was talking. There wasn’t enough evidence to take him to trial, let alone convict him.” The sheriff leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest like the subject was closed. Royce wanted to smack some sense into the pompous windbag but knew that would just get him arrested.

Waylon cleared his throat. “That wasn’t the reason we came to see you, Jack. We want to know what you are going to do about the ranchers who are being harassed and stolen from?”

The sheriff finally stood. “You men sound like a broken phonograph. I done told you I don’t have the manpower to go chasing down rumors. My job is to keep the miners and cowboys who come to town in check and to make sure no one actually hurts that silly woman who keeps trying to pick a fight with the men who want to relax in the saloon on paydays. Why the preacher won’t keep her up there in Bachelor is beyond me. You want to have people running around looking for rustlers that don’t exist, be my guest.”

Royce shook his head and looked at Waylon. “Let’s go, we’re wasting our time. Obviously, if we wanted justice we should have paid for it like Mr. Anders does.”

Sheriff Black Jack stepped from behind his desk and stood nose to nose with Royce. "You accusing me of something, Clark?”

Royce shook his head. “Just stating the facts as I see ‘em, Sheriff.”

“You’d better be careful, boy. It would be a shame for that pretty new bride of yours to become a widow so soon after yer wedding.”

Royce’s hand dropped to his gun belt. “Is that a threat?”

Black Jack smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes and, contrary to his words, Royce knew it was a threat. "Not at all. Just a gentle warning to be careful, Mr. Clark. The trail back to your ranch is a long, lonely stretch and if you and Mr. Morgan are right, then someone has it in for you ranchers. I’d hate to see you run into the wrong person on your way home. That’s all.”

Royce’s hand itched to take action; every fiber of his being wanted to draw against the crooked lawman, but all that would do was put him on the end of a rope and leave his family without him. Thankfully, Waylon reached out and slapped him on the back. “Come on, Royce, let me buy you a drink and we’ll talk about hunting for those rustlers since the sheriff told us to handle it ourselves.”

Royce let his hand drop to his side and stepped back from the sheriff. “Sounds like a great idea.”

He and Waylon nodded goodbye to Black Jack and went outside. They took the reins of their mounts and led them back up the street to Otto’s livery stable. After turning their mounts over to him, they headed straight for the telegraph office. They knew it was almost time for Arthur Jameson to close for the evening. Hopefully, he’d be willing to send one last message out for them tonight. Royce wanted to get Nathan Ryder here as fast as he could. If the Preacher or one of his deputies couldn’t figure out what was going on, they might have no choice but to send for Pinkertons or start hiring gun hands as well as cowboys.

He really didn’t want to have to do that because those were rough men, most of them weren’t loyal but worked for the man willing to pay the most. It would also put his wife in close proximity to men he wouldn’t trust with her best interest. Even if he was unsure of how he should proceed with her, he didn’t want her in a worse situation than the one she’d found herself in when she first set foot in Creede. He didn’t like the fact that he’d have to let Marta know that Grady was free. Like the rest of the women captured and held by Dougal, she wouldn’t be thrilled to know that the man responsible for their imprisonment was free to try again.

He entered the telegraph office to see Arthur look up at their entrance. “Royce, Waylon, I was just about to close up. What can I do for you?”

Royce spoke, figuring he was the one with the connection to the U.S. Marshal. "Couple of things, Arthur. We just came from the jail. You might want to let your wife and her friend Millie know that Black Jack released Archie today. He said there wasn’t enough evidence to hold a trial.”

Arthur's face looked as shocked as Royce was sure his did when Jack had told him that. “How can that be? I mean, there was a witness.”

Waylon shook his head. “According to the sheriff, Fontaine’s word wasn’t good enough since he didn’t actually see Archie. He even insinuated that the women weren’t captives but there willingly.”

“That’s ridiculous. I know for a fact that Mrs. Fontaine was taken against her will.”

Royce nodded. “So was Marta.”

That caused Jameson to nod. “I heard you’d married her. Congratulations.”

“Thanks. She’s good with the children.” He sighed, then changed the subject. "Look, that’s not the only reason we're here. I need to send a telegram to Redemption, New Mexico. The sheriff refuses to help us hunt for the rustlers and some of the smaller ranchers are now being coerced to sell their spreads. Can you send this message before you close up tonight and keep it and any answer quiet for me?”

“What’s the message?”

Royce took a piece of paper and a pencil from the operator and quickly wrote.

To: Nathan Ryder U.S. Marshall, Redemption New Mexico

Need your help STOP

Rustlers and possible range war. STOP

Local Sheriff refuses to help STOP

Can you assist STOP

End Message

The telegraph operator looked at it and nodded. “I’ll send it right away. I didn’t realize you knew Nathan Ryder. How in the world did you meet a famous gunslinger and lawman like that?”

"Bought Blue from him back in ’89. He inherited one of the silver mines out past Topaz. He was here checking on something and I mentioned needing a good cattle pony. He had a few extra mounts with him he'd just picked up from some trainer in Sanctuary, Montana. He came out to the ranch and spent a few days. Was a nice fella. Told me if I ever needed him to send word to Redemption.”

“Is it true he’s a real preacher, too?”

Royce nodded. “Sure is, came west with his Grandfather to be a circuit rider but things didn’t work out. Seemed he was a quick hand with a gun and before you know it, he’d earned a reputation and a badge as well as a church in New Mexico. But what would you expect from Nugget Nate Ryder's grandson?”

“You think he’ll come?”

Royce shrugged. “Don’t know, but I had to try something.”

“Maybe he’ll investigate this situation with Black Jack and Archie, too.”

“Ya never know with Nathan.”

The three men shook hands, and the two ranchers headed over to the saloon tent that Anders was using while he had the Nugget rebuilt. Royce would have one drink and head home before dark. He still had that uncomfortable feeling he’d gotten when Black Jack mentioned him getting waylaid on the way home.

Marta had put the three younger children down for a nap. She was cleaning up the lunch dishes and putting her bread into the oven to bake, when she jumped at the voice behind her. “You need to bring the two older ones inside right now.” The angel was standing behind her wringing her hands in anxiety. Marta felt the truth of the woman’s words in the pit of her stomach and went out the kitchen door and called to RJ and Rachel to come in. She didn’t have a good excuse to get them inside, but knowing something serious had to be happening for the angel to be so disturbed, she told them to come test the cookies she’d made for dessert that night. The two tore off for the table and she quickly gave them each two cookies and a glass of milk. Marta could see the angel standing just inside the parlor looking out toward the trail that led in from the town. She walked over to the woman. “Who are you?”

The older woman still looked like she had the first time Marta had seen her. Her grey hair was in a simple bun on the top of her head and she wore dark gray widow's reeds over a simple white blouse. “You couldn’t say my true name but you may call me Gloria. I’ve already told you I’m your angel. I was assigned to you and the Clark children just before we met the first time.”

“What has you so worried?”

The angel looked at her. “There are some men coming. I don’t want them to see the children. I wish I could keep them from seeing you, but none of the ranch men are close enough to meet them when they get here. I need you to do what I tell you even if it doesn’t make sense. Tell the children to stay inside for now, please.”

Marta nodded. She didn’t know why, but she trusted this angel. She’d proven herself to have a reason for everything she had told Marta to do so far. If she hadn’t listened, she wouldn’t be here now.

“RJ, Rachel, when you are done with your snack, I need you to stay inside until I tell you otherwise. Stay away from the doors and windows if you can and stay quiet. It’s important and I can’t explain why right now. Will you do that for me?”

Both children looked at her like she’d gone crazy but they nodded at her. “Thank you. Rachel, maybe you can read for a little to your brother until I tell you otherwise. Okay?”

“Yes, Marta.”

“Good. Now you two go back into the hall by the bedrooms. Keep your brother and sisters quiet until I come get you, please.”

“Are you going to be all right?”

She smiled at Rachel who looked like she was a bit worried. “I’ll be fine. I just need you to do this for me. Consider it your next little game.” She winked at the girl and smiled. She could see she hadn’t completely calmed the girl, but she would pretend she was. She took a primer and led her brother to the hall where the bedrooms were.

Just about that time, Marta heard the sound of horses and a buggy coming up the trail. The angel was at her side. “Get the rifle off the wall right now. I know you don’t know how to use it, but they don’t know that. I want you to open the door and pull that lever forward and push it back and then point the thing at the man in the buggy. Then ask if you can help them. No matter what, don’t stop pointing the rifle at the man in the buggy.”

Marta wanted to shake, but she felt an unnatural calm come over her. She did as she’d been told and took the rifle off the pegs it hung on over the fireplace. She walked to the door, opened it, stepped out onto the porch, and pulled and pushed the lever like the angel had told her to. Marta saw four men on horses and one heavyset man wearing a suit in a buggy pulled by two black mares. She pointed the rifle at the man in the buggy. “Can I help you, gentlemen?”

“You could lower that rifle, ma'am; there’s no need for it.” The voice of the man in the buggy was like cold slime sliding along her backbone.

“I don’t think I will, mister. I don’t know any of you and you’ve yet to answer my question.”

One of the men was on a horse almost the color of blood. “You want me to take it away from her, boss?”

The man was in all black, had a scar running along the right side of his face from just under his eye to the end of his jaw just clipping the edge of his lips, pulling them into a half smile even when he wasn’t smiling. He seemed to have no hair on his head. His hat was pulled low enough she couldn’t make out the color of his eyes but his skin was unusually white, almost like fresh cream. “No, Jasper, I don’t think that will be necessary.”

The man on the horse just stared at her, and for the first time, Marta felt the fingers of fear begin to crawl across her stomach and squeeze her heart. She’d had men ignore her, and on rare occasions leer at her, but the look this Jasper gave her was pure evil. She felt, rather than saw, the angel come up behind her and lay a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t fear; just keep looking at the man in the buggy and don’t flinch at anything said or done. I won’t allow you to come to harm.”

“You still haven’t answered my question, mister, and if you don’t do it soon, I’m gonna think you mean me and my family harm. You might not like it if that happens.”

The man looked at her, and at the rifle held so steady in her hands. "Again, there’s no need for violence, ma’am. I’m looking for Royce Clark; I was told this was his ranch. Is he around?”

The angel said in her ear. “Tell him the truth.”

“No, he went into Creede to see the sheriff.”

The man looked at the others. “I see. Why was he going to see the sheriff?”

“He didn’t tell me why. Just that he was.”

“I see. Well, will you tell him that a Mr. Oliver Thrilway came by to see him? I represent a party interested in purchasing the Circle C. I’m staying at the Miners’ Hotel in Creede and would appreciate a few minutes of his time.”

She nodded. “I’ll let him know, Mr. Thrilway. Now, would you be so kind as to take your men and leave my ranch?”

The man nodded and smiled. Marta realized it wasn’t a pleasant smile and she surprised herself by not shaking. The last one to leave was the one on the blood-red horse. He walked his horse closer to her and looked her up and down like she was standing in front of him without a stitch of clothing on. “I reckon I’ll be seeing you again, little lady. Yep, sooner than you might think, too.” Then he turned his horse and followed after the others. She stood there on the porch holding the rifle tight until the dust of their trail had disappeared. Then she went in and put the rifle back where it belonged and went to tell the children they could go back outside. She went to pull her bread out of the oven before it burned.

Everything was fine and calm until dinnertime when Marta told Royce all about the men visiting the ranch while they ate. Afterwards, he excused himself and headed over to the bunkhouse to talk to Fuzzy and the men.

Marta had the kids all in bed and had cleaned both the table and the dishes and still Royce hadn’t come back. Finally, she sighed and took herself to bed. She fell asleep wishing her husband would spend time with her or at least tell her what was going on. She once again wondered if she’d made a mistake marrying this rancher, even if it did give her the family and home she always wanted. Love must not be part of God’s plan for her. She wiped a tear and told herself not to dwell on what she couldn’t change. Royce needed her even if he didn’t want her. That was her last thought as she slipped into sleep.