Chapter 5

The cook for the house was a woman of about 50, Amanda Kraft, who had once ran a boarding house in Prescott. The owner sold the place and Mrs. Kraft was out of work. Sir Gerald hired her as a cook and housekeeper for Astor Manor. He also hired her husband, Joseph Kraft, who was approaching 60 and was getting a little long in the tooth to continue busting broncs and herding cattle. Mr. Kraft became sort of a house manager making sure everything in and around the house was kept in good repair; he was also learning to be a proper butler.

Sir Gerald and Lady Astor went all out for dinner that night. With Kathleen on his arm, Sir Gerald came into the formal dining room. He was dressed in his Army uniform with its bright red jacket with gold buttons fastened all the way up to his neck. A gold braid hung over his right shoulder and three lines of medals adorned his left breast. As he almost strutted into the room, Zach thought, he looks like a proud peacock.

Not to be outdone, Kathleen regally walked at her father's side wearing a long flowing gown that Zach was sure hadn't been made in Prescott. The dress was a deep emerald green, made of silk. It complimented her long auburn hair which she worn up in some kind of fancy do. The waist area of the gown was drawn in to show Kathleen's figure and the bodice left a lot of her shoulders bare. It was the first time he'd seen her all dressed up.

Zach stood as the father and daughter came into the room. He felt out of place in his clean whip cord pants and his shirt with a button on collar and a string tie. Never been one to worry about clothes before, he thought. But if I hang around these two for long, I'll have to start dressing better. Kathleen's smile was bright enough to light up the whole room and Sir Gerald had the look of a proud papa as he escorted her to the table.

"Good evening Mr. Carson," Kathleen said as her father seated her.

"Good evening Sir Gerald, Lady Kathleen," Zach replied and made a small bow.

"Let's have dinner and then we have a guest joining us," Sir Gerald said. At Zach's look he added, "Mr. Billings will be joining us for coffee this evening." The look on the older man's face said that it wasn't going to be pleasant for the ranch foreman.

Zach stood. "Excuse me, I'll be right back." He quickly went to his bedroom and retrieved his Colt, buckling on his gun belt. Then he returned to the dining room. Sir Gerald noticed the pistol and just nodded. Kathleen raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

As they finished dinner, Billings came into the room. "You wanted to see me Mr. Astor?" He was dressed as he normally was when working the ranch, including his pistol.

"Yes Mr. Billings," Sir Gerald replied. "Please sit and have coffee with us." He motioned Billings to a chair and to Mrs. Kraft. She brought Billings a cup and filled it with coffee.

"I understand you made an offer to sell cattle to Mr. Carson here," Sir Gerald continued. "I don't believe I gave you permission to lower my price. Nor did I give you permission to sell the other cattle as you've been doing. I cannot prove it, but it is certain that you have stolen from my ranch."

Billings looked at Zach and then back to Sir Gerald. He stood so fast he knocked over his chair and placed his hand on the butt of his pistol. "So what are you goin to do about it, you English dandy?"

"You're discharged Mr. Billings. Leave Astor Manor at once."

"You old fool. You think you can run me off?

Zach slowly stood and let his hand hang close to the butt of his Colt. "If Sir Gerald can't get rid of you, I can," he said.

Billings was surprised to see that Zach carried a pistol. He hesitated, growled, and drew his gun. Before he could raise his weapon, a shot echoed off the walls of the dining room. Zach's Colt had a wisp of gray smoke spiraling out of its barrel as Billings dropped his pistol, took a step backwards, and fell to the floor holding his shoulder.

Sir Gerald stood and looked down at Billings. He smoothed down each side of his moustache with one finger. "I can't abide a disturbance at dinner." He raised his voice and called, "Mr. Kraft, if you please." Kraft came from the breezeway and looked at Billings "Sorry old boy but we've seemed to have made a terrible mess," Sir Gerald apologized. "Could you get some of the men to help you lock this man in the tack room or somewhere secure after you patch him up somewhat? We'll send for the Sheriff in the morning."

"Yes sir, I'll get right on it," Kraft answered with a smile. He enjoyed listening to Sir Gerald talk. "And I'll get something to clean the blood off the floor. Don't want it to stain the wood, now do we?"

"Good thinking my man. And if you would, please ask Mrs. Kraft to send in some fresh coffee. This pot seems to have gotten cold."

Kraft nodded and started to turn.

"Mr. Kraft," Zach called. "Tell Dawson and Colton that if they're still here in the morning; they'll be joining Billings and the Sheriff."

Kraft nodded again and smiled. "It will be a pleasure Mr. Carson."

Mr. Kraft helped the wounded man to his feet and began to lead him out of the room. Billings turned and glared at Zach. "This ain't over Carson," he threatened.

"Yes it is Billings. If I see you again, I'll shoot you where you stand. The only reason you're not dead now is I pulled my shot; I won't do that the next time." Zach turned to Kathleen. "Figured you'd seen more than your share of dead men recently.

Billings heard the threat in Zach's voice, saw the cold hard stare of his eyes and believed that Carson would do just as he promised. Considering the speed of Carson's draw, the rustler decided it would be to put some distance between himself and the young man.

"Now that the unpleasantness is finished we need to talk Mr. Carson." Sir Gerald turned back to the table and motioned for Zach to retake his seat. "Ah, here's the coffee. Thank you my dear." Pilar, one of Mrs. Kraft's helpers had sat a fresh carafe of coffee on the table.

When she had poured for everyone and left Sir Gerald asked, "Have you considered the position I offered you Mr. Carson?" Pointing toward the departing Billings, he added, "Seems I have the need of a new ranch manager; a ramrod I believe you call it."

Zach had thought about the offer for several days. I like the area, I like the ranch, and I like the Astors, he thought. There was nothing calling me, as Sir Gerald said, to California; it had always been just a destination; a place to head for while I was drifting.

"I think I'd like to work for you Sir Gerald," Zach informed him of his decision. "At least we can give it a try for a spell."

"Capital, capital," the older man said. His pleasure at Zach's decision was obvious in his voice. "I suppose we should discuss salary and wages."

"I'm sure you'll be fair sir."

"As I understand it, other ramrods get up to $60 a month and found," Sir Gerald said. "I'll give you $100 a month; you can live and eat here in the house or we'll build you a cottage down by the stream. After shipping our cattle to market, I'll give you five percent of the net profit. How does that sound Mr. Carson? Perhaps that will entice you to stay for longer than a 'spell' as you call it."

"That's very generous Sir Gerald; I accept," Zach replied and shook hands with his new employer.

"Fine, fine. We'll go into Prescott and have an attorney draw up a contract after the Sheriff takes custody of Billings."

"That's not necessary Sir Gerald. Out here a man's word and handshake are good enough."

"Where are you going Zach?" Sir Gerald asked. "I thought we might have lunch at the café before we head back to Astor Manor."

"I'll join you in a few minutes," Zach answered. "I'm going to inspect the holding pens and shunting gates before we bring our cattle to the railhead. Don't want that mess again."

The upcoming cattle drive would be the second one Zach had been in charge of since he started working for Sir Gerald and Astor Manor. The first drive, which had been almost exactly a year earlier, had gone well right up until the trail hands drove the cattle into the pens. The pens and gates would hold and divide the animals into sections which could then be loaded into the train cars.

Gates were used to 'shunt' or funnel the cattle down a chute single file and then into a cattle car. One of the gates broke, allowing several cattle to push down the chute. The combined weight of the small herd was too much for the aging fence and it collapsed. The animals trying to get into the chute and then the rest of the herd escaped and ran through the town.

It took Zach, his men, and the railroad workers three days to get the pens repaired and another three days for the hands from Astor Manor to roundup the 80 cattle again. As far as Zach could tell after a head count, they hadn't lost more than two or three head but the extra work didn't set well with Zach or his men.

This year Zach found that Josh Cobb had beaten him to the inspection. Josh was actually the ramrod of the outfit while Zach was the ranch boss. Sir Gerald still called Zach his ramrod because he liked the sound of the word.

"Beat me to it, did you?" Zach said to his new friend and so called assistant. Truth be told, Josh was more of a mentor than an assistant.

"Didn't know if you'd think about checking out the pens, being sorta new to this ranch boss stuff," Josh answered. "No offense."

Shaking his head Zach replied, "None taken Josh."

Josh Cobb was ten years older and had twenty years more experience with cattle. He'd worked cattle ranches before, during and after the Civil War. Zach and he had spent many evenings after supper talking over ways to make Astor Manor more profitable.

The two men continued to walk around the very large pens, examining the fence posts, fence rails, and the gates; especially the gate that pushed the cattle into single file. The pens had been strengthened and there were many new posts, fence rails, and gates. The fiasco of last year wasn't going to happen again.

"Your time has come Carson," a voice yelled from behind them. Zach and Josh turned and saw Billings standing there with his pistol drawn and pointing in their general direction. "You sent me to Yuma Prison and I'm gonna make you pay. Soon as I get done with you I plan to make a little visit out to that English bastard." Billings waved his gun around and his laugh was more of a cackle. "When I'm done with him, I'm gonna visit that English bitch too."

"Step away Josh," Zach ordered. "This ain't none of your affair."

Billings watched Josh walk around the corner of the counting shed while Zach very slowly edged his hand toward the butt of his holstered Colt. "I didn't send you to prison Billings; it was your own greed and stupidity that did that."

"I thought you'd try to weasel out of it," Billings said returning his attention to his intended target. He waved his gun around as he talked. Billings had spent the better part of two years in the Territorial Prison in Yuma and had recently been released. The man showed the effects of the harsh time he'd spent in that hell hole.

"You were lucky Billings," Zach stated in a hard voice. "They usually hang rustlers in this country. Sir Gerald held you for the Sheriff; were me, I would've strung you up to one of those big Cottonwoods down by the creek. I might still do it if you force me."