Chapter 2

I looked over at the four who’d rode in with Benson. “Looks like I’m your boss now, boys. Let’s walk over to the saloon and have a beer. Then you can tell me all about what I just acquired.”

“Fuck you!,” said the obvious leader. “Just ‘cause you kilt the boss don’t mean shit to me.”

“You were his foreman?”

The man nodded and spit. “Well then, I guess you just quit. You figure out what wages you got coming, and I’ll pay you off here and now.”

I looked over at the other three. “That goes for you boys. You can stay, or you can go. I’m pretty easy to get along with, but my new foreman is a hardass. Meet Bradly J. Walters. He’ll be carrying out what I think needs to be done.”

Brad looked at me stunned, then grinned as he nodded. “All right, for now. I ain’t stayin’ in Utah forever though. There’s a dark eyed little senorita down Nogales way that’s just pinin’ for me to sweep her off her feet, and carry her home to rule my new ranch. She don’t know it yet, but I’ll tell her when I find her.”

“Fair enough. I might just take one look and sell out. Either way, I might as well go see what I got.”

Two more of the hands quit, but one stayed. We took him to dinner that night, then to the saloon, and pumped him. He was not impressed with the way Jack ‘Buck” Benson ran the spread. “He’s too heavy on the graze he’s using now. The grass is startin’ to give way, and soon prime grazin’ land won’t be nothin’ but a bunch of gullies and weeds. I tried to tell him, the foreman tried to tell him, hell, even his wife tried to tell him. He told us all to go to hell, he knew what he was doin’ Them cow critturs ain’t gonna be nothin’ but skin and bones unless you do something.”

This was news I was not happy hearing. “Is there nowhere else to let them run?”

“Hell yes there is, almost five times as much as he’s grazing now. He absolutely refused to move the cows, and told us he’d fire the first man he caught messin’ around on the South side of the ranch. Somethin’ not right there.”

I agreed. Then I asked him how many hands they had, and how many he thought would stay when I took over. He snorted. “There’s close to fifty, but prob’ly twenty of them just loaf around. Boss refused to fire them, though. I figure when you show up, they’ll all leave, along with maybe ten more. You better try rounding up hands while we’re here.”

He told me they were in town for their monthly supply run. I asked, and he said he had a list, so I told him to fill it. He asked where the money was coming from. That led me to the lawyer. “Benson had money on him for supplies, and I’m thinkin’ that it belongs to the ranch.”

Joshua Clemmons, esq., let out a sigh. “Well, that helps. I got his personal effects, I though his wife might want them. Here’s his money belt. He banks here, so you might want to talk to the banker come Monday morning. After all, you have controlling interest in the ranch now, so you need him to change things around.”

I hired him to be my lawyer right then. He’d spoken plain so far and had done what was fair without offerin’ anything extra, and seemed to be a decent man. He accepted with a nod and slight smile. “You’ll have to fire his old one. He’s the only other lawyer in town. He probably won’t take it well, there’s not much use for lawyers round here, and he’ll be losing his biggest client.”

There wasn’t as much in the moneybelt as I figured there would be, but it was just barely enough to buy what they came for. I pulled another hundred out of my own belt and gave it to the new segundo, Bill Williams, and told him to make sure we had enough to last the month. Then we sent him around the saloons with a little money to buy drinks with, in case he could find anyone worth hirin’. He just ended up getting a bunch of bums sloshed. “Ain’t a real cowpoke in the whole bunch,” he said with a sad face. Then the Marshall came to see me.

“Hear you’re lookin’ for hands?”

“Yeah, but we ain’t doing so good.”

“Well then, maybe we can help each other out.” I invited him to breakfast, and as he ate, he told us what he had.

“I got three boys in the pokey. Tougher’n nails, even the small one. He don’t drink, but he’s mean as a snake and good with a knife. They come in with a drive, had words with the boss over wages, and he left them here. Two of the locals tried to roll them, and she sliced them up pretty good. Then the other two sobered up, and beat the hell out of them. They’re all pretty young, and kind of green, but they seem solid. I think they’re related, but they don’t talk much, at least to me.”

“All that sounds kind of straight up. Why are they even in jail?”

The boys that got their asses kicked tried to ambush them after they healed up. The little one run them home, swinging a Bowie knife that was almost as big as he was. Then set the shack on fire, standing outside with a shotgun and daring them to come out. The other two showed up and started watching the back. Ever time one of the men in the house showed their face, they shot at them, making sure they missed. They was screaming and beggin’ by the time we got there, and we damn near had to shoot the little one to get him to back off. The boys came running out, their clothes on fire and screamin’ like banshees.”

I grinned. These were my kind of people. “What exactly, are they charged with?”

“Arson. The gent that owned the shack tried to jack them up, they didn’t have it, so I had to put them in jail. If you was to take them off my hands, there would be a few in this town who’d sleep better at night. One thing though, you have to pay the guy who owned the shack for his loss. I’ll make sure it’s fair, because it really was a shack. Maybe at most a hundred, maybe less. You don’t take them before the judge comes through next week, and they’re all off to prison for at least two years. I don’t think the young one would do well there, he’d end up killin’ somebody before the week was out, and his kin would jump in to help him against the dead man’s friends, and they’d all end up dead. I’d hate to see that, mister.”

“Finish your breakfast, Marshall, and then we’ll mosey over to the jail.”

Three sullen faces looked up at us when we walked in. All of them seemed pretty young, especially the little one. I skipped the formalities. “You boys know how to handle cows?”

For the first time, I saw a little interest. The one I figured was oldest spoke up. “All we ever done our whole lives was ranch and farm. So yeah, we know how to handle cows, dig postholes, plant crops, chop firewood, and Tiny here is a damn good cook.” The little one blushed, which seemed odd on a man.

“Are you a man of your word?”

The question surprised them. The middle one spoke. “A Higgins never goes back on his word. You can take that to the bank.”

“I ain’t interested in banks, I’m interested in hands. I just acquired a ranch, and I’m in need of a few good people. Can I trust you?”

“You get us out of here, Mister, and we’re yours for life.”

“Good enough. I’m going to pay your debts to get you out, and I’ll take half your wages until we’re square. Deal?”

Relief showed on their faces, and the little one looked a little misty-eyed. I paid their fines and damages, and they walked out with us. Me and Brad shook hands with every one, even the little one. I looked into a pair of green eyes, and knew. I glanced at Brad and he grinned, so I knew he’d figured it out too.

They gathered their packs, mostly what little spare clothes they had and some wore out percussion rifles. The oldest had an ancient looking Dragoon that looked like it would fly to pieces if it was ever fired, so I knew I’d need to kit them up with some decent weapons. I took them straight to the gunsmith, them complaining the whole time.

“This ain’t charity. There might come a time I need you to back me up, and I need to know you got decent weapons. I’ll add it to what you owe me.” The oldest, Bud, picked a decent looking Peacemaker. Sonny, the middle one, took a shine to an old Starr the gunsmith had reworked for .38 cartridges. Tiny looked with longing at a Colt Lightning in .32-20 caliber. It was only a five shot, but it was slim and looked like it would fit nicely in her little hand. Yep, it didn’t take us long to figure out she was a girl. I suspect the Marshall knew, another reason why he wanted them off his hands.

“You like this one, Tiny?” She looked at Brad and shook her head shyly.

I grinned at her. “Don’t make me regret this, the Marshall said you was pretty bad to fly off the handle. There is one condition, sweetie, you tell us your real name.”

Her eyes flew wide and the boys looked shocked. I put the pistol back after a couple of minutes. “Well, then, if you can’t tell me the truth, I can’t trust you with a weapon. Total me up, Mr. Herman.”

Her hand shot out, grabbing mine. “It’s Jessica! Jessica Alise Higgns.”

“Well then Miss Higgins, it’s a pleasure to meet you. If I get this for you, you need to give me your bond you’ll be responsible with it. Word is you got a pretty hot temper.”

She drew up to her full heigth of five feet, maybe, looked me in the eye, and promised. I turned to Mr. Herman. “Well sir, I’ll guess we’ll be adding this as well. You wouldn’t happen to have a child’s size holster for it, would you?”

He grinned. “As a matter of fact...” He pulled a really nice black handtooled cartridge belt and holster, studded with little silver stars. “This might do. Had a midget through here about six months ago, a gambler called Big Mike. Some kind of joke I guess. Anyway, he had me make this for him, then discovered he weren’t near the cardsharp he thought he was. Got caught holding a pair of aces, that were the same suits another gambler had. He had nerve, but nerve and a two shot derringer don’t get you out of a shooting scrape. He already paid for it, and I was gonna take it apart for the silver and leather. Give me the cost of that, and it’s yours. I’ll even put her initials on the holster.”

Little Jessica was begging with her eyes, so I agreed, while Brad just grinned. I’m sure he remembered how our baby sister used to twist me up just by batting her eyes. She almost skipped out of the gun shop, she was so happy. That grin turned upside down when I took her to a dress shop. The owner eyed me warily, wondering what I wanted.

“I got a job for you. I want you to give this little hellcat a proper female wardrobe befitting a young lady of quality, including a few split skirts suitable for riding.” She almost threw a hissy, but I didn’t back down. She mouthed off one time too many, and I snatched her up, holding her off the ground at eye level. She suddenly got very quiet.

“You listen here, little missy! There’s a few things you need to know. I don’t take a lot of backtalk. You sass me and I’ll tan your hide in front of everyone. You’re going to dress, act, and comport yourself as a proper young lady, if I have to beat you into it. You understand me, girl? This ain’t up for discussion.”

It was just her, me, and the milliner in the shop. I wouldn’t embarrass her in public, but she didn’t know that. Tears were starting to fall. “Now, look me in the eye, and say ‘Thank you Zeke Walters. I appreciate your gift.’ And it is a gift, you don’t owe me diddly for the things you’ll get. It wouldn’t kill me to know you were just a little happy about it. Can I depend on you?”

I put her down and she wiped away the tears, nodding her head. “You can, Zeke Walters. And thank you. Nobody has ever spanked me before, and I don’t want to find out what it feels like now. I’ll be a good girl.” She said something under her breath and thought I didn’t catch it, but I heard just fine. “A very expensive good girl.”

The milliner was grinning, and suddenly I knew I was going to have a lot of restless times over this girl. It kind of made me feel good. It took three hours, but that included a bath and some pampering. The Milliner called in her friends, for shoes, hats, underthings probably, every single item a young lady would need.

We had thought about having a beer, then decided against it. We were in a town of strangers, and none of us were what you’d consider popular. Instead we poked around town for a little bit, found a Mexican restaurant that had some amazing smells coming out of it, and decided that was where we’d eat supper. The we piled up on the boardwalk in front of the saloon, waiting.

Brad had dozed for about an hour, as well as the Higgins boys. Seemed they hadn’t slept well in jail. When they roused, me and Bill settled back, pulling our hats over our eyes. Bill was sawing logs, and I was dozing in and out, when I heard Brad’s chair thump on the boards, as well as exclamations from the boys. I woke instantly, coming to my feet, looking for trouble.

And I found it. Lots and lots of trouble. She had on a long gray skirt, the tips of her new black boots sticking out, with a frilly white shirt and a matching gray jacket. She was carrying a little straw hat, her shining blond hair done up in an elaborate braid and held in place by pink ribbons. She was followed by two boys roughly her age, both of them stumbling over their tongues as they followed her. They held bags, three hat boxes, two shoe boxes, and a small trunk. She stopped in front of us, and twirled. Then she looked me right in the eyes.

“How do I look?

“You look like I need to buy a couple more shotguns. You look lovely, Jessica, just perfect.”

She blushed and Brad laughed. He suddenly smiled, truning on the charm that had separated many a young thing from her knickers. “It does indeed, Jessica. I’m glad I wasn’t appointed Dad, at least I can sleep with both eyes shut. How old are you, baby?”

She blushed. “I’m not sure. Thirteen, I think. I’m not even sure when my birthday is.” She keyed into the ‘daddy’ statement, and it opened up a whole new world of possibilities to her.