Riding For The Brand: Sage Country Book Three Page 10

  The arrangement was each ranch had their own gear and cook fire, but come meal time we could go from one wagon to the other to visit and sample all the victuals. In the heat of the day or the event of rain, we’d all eat together under the tent canopy. The crews holding or working the cattle would rotate in and out.

  Off to one side of the camp, the horses were all thrown into one remuda. There were about a dozen head being held inside a rope corral. Other than our mounts now picketed outside the wagons, the other horses were being ridden by the men holding the incoming cattle and the herd. A wagon loaded with hay was parked nearby. The older kids would be responsible for feeding and leading the horses out to water at the creek.

  I liked the lay out.

  There were a few men sitting at a table in the shade, so we left our horses with the boys and headed that way to palaver.

  As we approached, one of the men called out.

  “Howdy, Ace. I see you have most of your older kids here with you. How’s the Missus?”

  “She’s fit as a fiddle and about as high strung, Kermit. How’s Carol? I expect she’s pretty busy with the little ones, huh?”

  “Yep. She’ll probably come on out when we’re finishing up. Who’s this you have with you?”

  “My name’s John. I ride for the Rocking M.”

  The men at the table all glanced around at each other.

  “Welcome, John. I’m Kermit Wilson. I own the Flying W, just south of here.” The first speaker said.

  “Pleasure.” I said. I looked around at the three other men who hadn’t spoken up.

  Their attention turned to a well-dressed man sitting at the end of the table. He wore a sombrero with a silver studded band. Beyond that he was dressed like a business man., right down to the celluloid collar and tie with a pearl stickpin. His grey wool suit pants were tucked into fancy custom boots with a −C− brand worked into the front of the uppers.

  Grabbing the lapels of his vest, he tilted his head back and looked down his nose at me.

  “The Rocking M is finished. I don’t know who you think you are, but you have no business here.”

  I nodded.

  “I can see how you might think that, but we just gathered and drove in over a hundred head of cattle. Of those, twenty three cows carry the Rocking M brand. They all have calves. There were another eleven head of Rocking M steers. I expect once the gather is done, there’ll be at least three hundred head of Rocking M cattle on this range. Probably more than a dozen horses, too. I don’t call that finished. Like I say, I’m repping for the Rocking M. Who are you to say different?”

  The man’s face turned beet red.

  “I’m Jud Coltrane. I own the biggest ranch in these parts. I took over the Rocking M when it was abandoned. You say you brought in cattle wearing the Rocking M brand? Unless your name is Murphy, you need to ride away before we mistake you for a rustler!”

  Four riders leading a packhorse were approaching in a cloud of dust. Everyone’s attention turned to them. The four bearded men rode right up to the edge of the tent.

  “Howdy, John, how the hell are you?” Curt Cross said. “Ace.” He added, with a nod.

  “Mornin’, Curt, Carl, Ken. How are you, Calvin. Glad to see you boys could make it.” I said.

  Jud Coltrane and the other men with him observed the greeting with mixed expressions.

  “How do you know each other?” Coltrane snapped.

  “I told you, I ride for the Rocking M. I’ve visited with some of the other ranchers. I asked the Johnsons and the Cross brothers to throw in with me. We’ll help each other sort and brand our stock. The Rocking M has a lot more cattle than I can handle alone. Seems like a good arrangement , don’t you think?”

  Coltrane just sat there, his face red, struggling to respond.

  “Sure thing. We all help each other. It’s the way we’ve always done it.” Kermit Wilson said.

  “No. You’re not welcome here. You have no claim on the Rocking M. It looks to me like you and these men are just a bunch of rustlers who banded together to steal our cattle.” Coltrane said.

  “You talk too damned much, Coltrane. You shut the hell up, or I’ll climb off this horse and cut your damned throat for you.” Carl said, pulling his Bowie knife from his boot.

  Jud Coltrane paled at that.

  “Easy now, Jud. Maybe these fellas do ride for the Rocking M.” Kermit Wilson said. “If Ace Johnson says their legit, that’s good enough for me.”

  Jud Coltrane didn’t say another word. He stood up and walked away from the table. Two of the other men looked at each other and silently left the table, hurrying to catch up with Coltrane.

  20.

  The Cross brothers rode off to set up camp.

  “John I don’t want those men hanging around my daughters.” Ace said. “I’ve seen the way they look at em, especially Katie. If they start drinking…”

  We’d returned to where his sons were holding our horses.

  “Can’t be avoided, Ace. As long as your girls are here cooking and looking after our camp, they’ll be meeting and talking to every cowboy on the range. If it worries you, send them home. We’ll make do.”

  “No, no. Most of the cowboys will treat the girls like the young ladies they are. When the roundup’s over, I expect more’n one will be showing up at my place to court Katie. But those Cross men are another story. I don’t trust em.”

  “You don’t trust them, or you don’t trust your girls around them?”

  Ace gave me a sharp look.

  I laughed.

  “Between the two of us and your sons, I reckon we can keep an eye on things. If it becomes a problem, we’ll deal with it.”

  Ace nodded.

  “I reckon so. It’ll be an interesting experience for the girls. I just don’t want no trouble comin’ from it.”

  “You had to know bringing young ladies to a roundup would be cause for some excitement. One way or another, I figure we’ll have all the trouble we can handle. Listen, I’m going to ride out and have another word with Coltrane’s foreman. I want to learn what the plan is for tomorrow.”

  Ace shrugged.

  “Should be the same way we always do. Tonight, after supper, there’ll be a meeting of the ranchers or the men representing the ranches. We’ll elect a range boss. He’ll tell us how he wants us to divide up the work. We’ll have a crew holding the herd, another crew to sort and separate the cows with calves. Some of the hands will do the roping. Others will do the branding and castrating. We generally start right after breakfast. Course we’ll need riders to take turns on night hawk. By supper time tonight, near every critter on the range will be here.”

  “What do we do between now and then?”

  “It’s more important than ever that we get an accurate nose count of your beef. I should say, the Rocking M cattle. Tomorrow there’ll be an official tally, but by supper time tonight, you need to know roughly how many head you have here. That way we can make a case against any funny counting tomorrow. I expect everybody’s doin’ the same.”

  “Makes good sense to me, I’ll get started.” I said.

  “Hold on, John. Can I make a suggestion?”

  “Sure, I don’t have a clue what I’m doing, Ace. You know the way things work on this range.”

  Ace crossed his arms.

  “Here’s the thing. On this roundup, me, my boys, and the Cross brothers are riding for the Rocking M. That means we work for you.”

  “Well, the Cross brothers don’t really ride for the Rocking M. They’ve just kind of thrown in with us. Besides, what am I supposed to do?”

  “You’re the head man for the Rocking M. That makes you the foreman, John. You tell us what to do. I reckon you should send us to do the nose count and spell some of them holding the herd. This afternoon if you want to ride herd, you can. If you want to hang around here and meet the other outfits as they come in, do that. You’re the boss. It’s up to you.”

  I thought it over. He was right and it w
as time I accepted the responsibility.

  “OK. Here’s what we’ll do. As soon as lunch is ready, we’ll eat. Then, you and the others should figure on riding out to spell some of the drovers on the herd, so they can come in and eat. I’ll ride along so I can meet some of those men. We’ll get a nose count while we’re at it. Between now and then, send your boys out to tell those men we’ll be taking over for them in an hour or so. I want you with me when I talk to the Cross brothers. I mean to do that, right now.”

  “That’s a good plan.” Ace said. He looked at his sons who were standing there watching us. “You heard the man. Mount up and get to work.”

  ***

  As we walked toward the Cross camp, I glanced at Ace.

  “You said something about the other outfits coming in. We know the Flying W is represented. So is the Bar C Bar, the Rocking M, Rafter J, and the Box Cross. I didn’t get to meet those two gentlemen who are following along in Coltrane’s shadow. Who are they?”

  “I don’t know. I expect Kermit could tell us.”

  “What other outfits are missing?”

  “It ain’t that anybody’s missing, exactly. I think the ranches are all represented. Most of the owners are here, but a lot of the cattle are still being rounded up. There’ll be at least a couple hundred more head along with a bunch of horses coming in this afternoon, more cowboys, too.”

  I had a thought, so I changed direction.

  “Where we going?” Ace asked.

  “I want to have a look at the remuda. There may be some Rocking M horses in the bunch.”

  “Should be. We didn’t see any in our gather, but most of the Bar C Bar riders are already here. Except for the foals and young stock, all of Murphy’s horses were well broke. Not a bronc or jug head among um, and Murphy knew good horseflesh when he saw it. Those Bar C Bar waddies like Rocking M horses. I reckon Coltrane figures they’re his now. If you hadn’t shown up, I reckon he’d have changed the brands.”

  “How many head did Murphy have?”

  “At last count, four cow ponies, six brood mares, four two year olds, and five foals. Those were the saddle stock. He also had two big Belgians. Those were the work horses.”

  “So, twenty one head. When was the last count?”

  “The Spring roundup.”

  Looking over the remuda, two of the fourteen horses in the rope corral wore the Rocking M brand, including one brown horse with a bald face. I wondered if his name might be Shongaloo. Only two Rocking M saddle horses present in the remuda suggested the other two cow ponies were probably under saddle somewhere. Maybe holding the herd, the rest were missing.

  “Do they hold the range horses with the cattle during the roundup?”

  “Not the breeding stock. They’d leave them on the range or corral um at home. ”

  I gave that some thought as we walked over to the Cross camp.

  When we reached the place in the trees where the Cross brothers had made their camp, we found all four of them standing together, talking. They gave us the stink eye as we walked up.

  “Howdy, boys, I sure am glad you decided to join us.” I said, offering my hand to shake.

  “Howdy, your own self. Who says we’re joining anybody?”

  I was a little taken aback by their attitude.

  “What John means is he was hoping you’d help us with the Rocking M herd. He’ll have about three hundred head. Me and mine are helping him out. What do you say?”

  “Hell no. We just come to make sure nobody slapped the wrong brand on any of our cattle. I reckon we have a hundred head ourselves.” Curt said.

  Ace chuckled.

  “Now, Curt, you boys know you didn’t have but about thirty head at the Spring roundup. Half of them were steers. Did you eat any of them? You may have another eight or ten calves on the ground now, so your count will be more like forty head, tops. Not a hundred.”

  “We ain’t got much of a handle on numbers. We’ll take what’s ours. Aint nobody gonna stop us, neither.”

  I watched this exchange and figured I knew what the problem was.

  “I’ll tell you what. You help us with our herd and we’ll help you with yours. I figure you should get something for your troubles. How bout I let you have half a dozen of the Rocking M calves?”

  “How many’s that?” Carl asked.

  “Six, Carl. You can have three Rocking M heifers and three bull calves or steers. You put your brand on them and they’re yours.”

  “They’d have to be weanlings. We ain’t got time to play nurse maid to no calves.” Curt said.

  “Fair enough. Six weanlings, and you get to pick em.”

  Ken was working it out on his fingers, as Curt and the others watched him. After a moment he nodded. “Damn, that’s a good deal.” he said.

  “You bet. So, will you throw in with us?” Ace asked.

  The four Cross brothers looked back and forth. After a moment Curt spoke for all of them.

  “I reckon so.” he said.

  “There’s something else that’ll sweeten the deal. You boys can come and eat at our fire.” Ace said.

  “We brung our own grub.” Calvin said.

  “That’s fine. I just want you to know you’re welcome to my daughter’s cooking.”

  The bearded men’s faces were transformed by the thought.

  “They’ll have lunch ready any time now, if you’re interested. Just one thing, I’ll expect you to mind your manners around my daughters.”

  The Cross brothers stiffened a bit.

  I decided to redirect the conversation.

  “Here’s the thing, boys, Ace is worried some wild cowboy will take a notion to say or do something bad to one of those girls. I’d sure appreciate it if you boys would help Ace protect his daughters.

  Ace understood my thinking.

  “My oldest daughter Katie is only sixteen. The other two are younger. They haven’t been away from their momma’s apron strings much.”

  The four men regarded him with somewhat less offended looks.

  “Why sure, Ace. We’ll watch out for um. Only, we never did know much about manners and such.” Curt said.

  “Do the best you can, then. Thank you. Mostly just try not to cuss in front of um.”

  “Why hell, Ace, we wouldn’t do nothin’ like that.” Curt said.

  Ace and I looked at each other for a moment, trying not to laugh.

  “One other thing, boys. John is the foreman of the Rocking M. We take our orders from him. What he says goes. That OK with you?”

  The brothers looked at each other, then back at me.

  “Maybe so, maybe not. We’ll ride for the brand, but we ain’t much for taking orders.” Curt said.

  I grinned.

  “That’s capital, simply capital! As for taking orders, we’ll all work together. I don’t intend to boss you around.”

  We shook hands on it.

  21.

  Lunch passed without incident. The girls served up cold ham sandwiches and hot potato soup.

  The Cross brothers tended to stare at Ace’s oldest daughter, Katie, a little more than might be considered proper, but she was shaping up to be a stunner. She just ignored their stares. Ace was watchful but otherwise seemed unconcerned.

  We ate quickly, thanked the ladies and mounted up to tend the herd.

  The Rocking M now boasted nine riders. This was an impressive number for the size of the ranch. Of course there were really three ranches represented, but in the ways that mattered we were one. The other ranches would see us as one outfit working the roundup. I was thankful to have these men with me. I was mindful that just a few days before, I’d ridden into this country all alone.

  As we approached the edge of the herd, Ed Baxter trotted over to meet us.

  “Here comes that bastard, Baxter,” Curt Cross said. “Coltrane’s lap dog.”

  “Easy, Curt, I’m none too fond of him myself, but we all need to get along. At least till the roundup’s over.” Ace said.

  �
�Then what? I reckon he’ll go back to tearin’ down your fences.” Ken Cross said

  “There’s been no trouble, lately. Let’s keep it that way.” I said quietly.

  I called out to the Bar C Bar rider, as he reined in. “Howdy, Ed. we’ve come out to help hold the herd. You and your boys can go on in and grab something to eat

  Ed Baxter looked us over. Evidently, seeing the nine of us in a group puzzled him.

  “Appreciate that. You men all riding together?”

  “Yep, we ride for the Rocking M. You got a problem with that?” Curt asked.

  “No problem. Who’s in charge?”

  Ace glanced my way.

  “I am.” I said.

  Ed Baxter rubbed his face with a gloved hand. It was evident he was not happy with the news.

  “OK, John. Have your men spread out and relieve one rider at a time. It doesn’t matter what outfit they’re with. Just hold your part of the herd, keep em bunched, but don’t rile em. They’re pretty quiet now, but there’ll be a few hundred head coming in. They’ll need to be eased in with the rest. Can you handle it?”

  “We’ve got it.” I said.

  “OK. We’ll meet up after supper to pick the range boss. I expect I’ll see you at supper time. By then, there’ll be some other riders to hold the herd.”

  He raised a hand in farewell as he trotted off toward the camp.

  “Well, boys, you heard the man. Spread out and relieve one man at a time. I’m going to hang back to meet the riders coming in. I’ll be around if you need me.” I said.

  Without saying another word the Johnsons and the Cross brothers turned their horses and split up.

  I rode a little way back toward the camp to a high spot where I could watch the herd and meet the riders coming in for lunch.

  The third rider quitting the herd was mounted on a Rocking M horse. I’m in the habit of holding my reins in my left hand. He wasn’t. I stopped him and introduced myself.

  “Howdy. My name’s John. I’m the foreman for the Rocking M. You’re sitting on one of our mounts. When you get to the camp, I’d sure appreciate it if you’d unsaddle him and turn him out in the remuda. You can pick a Bar C Bar horse to ride.”