13 comments/ 26866 views/ 9 favorites The Ballad of Zachery Carson Ch. 01 By: woodmanone I can't seem to keep away from the western stories. Maybe I was a real cowboy in another life or maybe I long for the time when a man could decide his own destiny without interference from the government or some do gooder telling me how to speak and think. Who knows? Thank for taking the time to read and comment on my work. As usual constructive critiques, comments, and especially emails are welcome and appreciated. ******************** "You don't have to leave Zach," Caleb said. Zachery Carson looked at his four years older brother for several seconds before answering. People would never guess, except for the lines on his face that Caleb was the oldest. Zach was taller at 6 feet, and stockier built. Caleb had lost weight during his time at war and never had gained it all back yet. The thing that marked them as brothers was their gray eyes. Eyes that could be soft or as hard and piercing as a knife. "Yeah, I do Caleb." "But why?" Caleb asked in a puzzled voice. "C'mon Caleb. I've been, and Ma and Pa have been, just waiting for you to get back from that damned war. Everything was put on hold until you came home." "I know you had to shoulder a lot of the work while I was gone. Is that the reason you're leaving? You've had to do your work and mine too for four years? Are you mad because I decided to fight for the Union and you thought I should fight for the Confederacy?" Living in Franklin Missouri, at what was considered the beginning of the Santa Fe Trail, Caleb could have fought for either side with equal conviction if he wanted. Franklin was about half way between St. Louis and Kansas City and proponents of both side of the conflict traveled through the town regularly. There were families and neighbors divided by the ideals and so called reasons for the war. Some in the area sided with the South, using the call of state's rights as a rallying point. Others thought the south didn't have the right to secede and form their own nation or continue slavery, so they said. In some families, brother fought against brother and sons fought against fathers. Neighbors who had been friends for years and years suddenly found themselves on different sides of the conflict and came to blows over it. Zach sighed. "I don't think you should have fought for either side." Before Caleb could argue his beliefs of what the Union stood for, Zach continued. "Wouldn't have had to be a war if those bastards in Washington, and I'm talkin about both sides now, they hadn't got into a pissin contest to see who was the big he bull of the country." He shook his head. "I was only 14 when you left Caleb. I didn't care about the extra work; I was just worried about my big brother." Zach stopped and smiled. "Do know I tried to enlist in the Union Army so I could be with you. They turned me down, thank God. Anyway, Ma and Pa, mostly Ma, decided she'd already given one son and wasn't going to give another; not as long as she had something to say about it." Zach continued saddling his horse. Speaking over his shoulder to Caleb he said, "One of the things I learned about was the so called reasons for the war. Truth of the matter is that neither side has the sense God gave a goose. Like I said, each side wanted things their own way. That's what caused the war; pride, greed, and stupidity." "So it is because I went to war that you're leaving," Caleb said. "No, it's not big brother. "You and Becky Reynolds got married and you now live on the farm." Caleb smiled at the mention of his new bride. "Well, this farm can just about support Ma and Pa and me. Now you're back and that makes another mouth to feed. Then add to it Becky and any children you two might have and things are gettin stretched real thin, too thin." Zach tied his saddle bags and bed roll behind his saddle and turned to face Caleb. "Suppose I want to get married and have a family; how's the farm goin to support all of us? No, I'm leavin so y'all can have a good life." He held up his hand to stop Caleb's reply. "Sides, you and Pa are the farmers; I just worked the land cause I had too; Pa needed my help. Now you're back and can help Pa and I can head west. Listenin to the stories the men at the courthouse told, made me want to go see some of the cities and country they talked about. That's what I've wanted to do since I was old enough to go to town by myself." Caleb started to say something but stopped as Becky came out to join the brothers. "Let us know where you're at and how you're doing Zach," Becky said. "I'm sorry you're goin but we wish you luck." She put her arm through Caleb's and leaned against him. "There will always be a place for you here Zach," Caleb said in a choked voice. He could barely hide his tears. All during the fighting for four years, Caleb had one thought; getting home to his family and to Becky. Now part of the family was leaving. Zach swung up onto his horse, turning it sideways to Caleb and Becky. "I've already said good bye to the folks; Pa ain't as strong as he thinks Caleb, you take care of him." Touching his hand to his big Stetson in a salute, he put spurs to his horse and rode westward. When he topped the rise west of the farm, Zach turned back for a last look. Caleb and Becky waved at him; he returned it and rode on. ******************** "That smoke is comin from just about where we're headin," Zachery Carson said to his horse Buck. He was slowly and carefully guiding the animal along a trail running down one side of a rock butte. Zach was a stranger to this country but had good information that a spring flowed from the base of the butte. He'd been told by an old mountain man several days previously that the spring flow formed a good pool of water and only ran for 30 feet or so before disappearing underground again. In this desert like landscape, knowledge of where water holes existed could mean the difference between life and death. The high mountains to the far west grabbed almost every bit of moisture from the incoming air, leaving very little for this dry and almost arid country. Only a few Mesquite and Palo Verde trees, some sage brush, Creosote bushes and tumbleweeds dotted the land. Zach had been on the trail for a couple of weeks out of Tucson, Arizona and from his home in Missouri for seven years. He was headed west toward the promised land of California but he wasn't in a hurry and Zach wasn't for sure that was his destination. Rambling around was more his choice right now. He'd worked on cattle ranches, off and on during the years; doing roundups and long drives to railheads for shipment. Zach had rode shotgun guard for a stage line out of DeWitt Texas, hired on as an out rider guard for a freight company running between Santa Fe New Mexico and Albuquerque. He was even a Deputy Sheriff for a year before he thought he'd go to California. There were several things on his mind that he had to come to grips with before he made a final decision as to where he was heading. Pulling his new Winchester '73 from its scabbard under his right leg, Zach made sure the rifle was cocked and ready for use. "Can't be too careful out here in the badlands," he explained to his mount. Buck didn't answer but continued to pick his way down the narrow trail. At one point the trail came closer to the edge of the rock wall and he could see down to its base of the butte and the spring. Sitting close to the water were two Prairie Schooner type wagons. One of them was canted over because one of the large rear wheels was broken and pulled off the axle. The other wagon was smoldering, sending the plume of smoke that had attracted Zach into the air. There were two bodies visible on the ground near the smoking wagon and a horse was down. The animal couldn't get up and it was obvious from even 100 yards away that its leg was broken. Zach couldn't see any other signs of life. Reaching the bottom of the trail, Zach rode toward the wagons. His eyes darted about as he was very alert watching for an ambush. Zach rode to a spot between the wagons and dismounted. He tied Buck off to a small tree growing out a crevasse between the rocks and walked to the injured animal. Zach could see the bone sticking out of the horse's left front leg. He knelt down and put his left hand on the horse's head; talking to him in a gentle soothing voice to quiet the animal. With his right hand he pulled his pistol, a Colt .45 Peacemaker, and thumbed back the hammer. "Sorry old son," Zach whispered, placed the pistol next to the horse's head, and pulled the trigger. "Reckon you're not hurtin anymore." He stood and walked over to the burning wagon and the two men on the ground. No need to look closer, he thought. Those men have been dead for better than a day. Turning, he advanced toward the other wagon. The contents of the wagons had been pawed through and the things not worth the raider's time were scattered over a large area. "Nothin of value left," Zach muttered as he looked inside the remaining wagon. Kneeling, he looked at some tracks around the wagon. "Might have been Indians, but I don't think so. Most probably Comancheros." Zach had developed a habit of talking to his horse on his long journey. The term Comancheros was used for bands of Indian and Mexican traders in the plains part of the country and in Texas. Zach knew from firsthand knowledge that now the Comancheros were bands of renegade whites, Mexican bandits, and even some Indians. He'd had a run in with a band in New Mexico on his trip west from Missouri. Zach had managed to escape after killing three of them in a running gun battle. Apparently the Comancheros weren't willing to pay the price to bring Zach down. The tracks showed that the other horses from the wagons had been led off. While he was still examining the tracks, he saw the shadow of someone approaching from behind him. The person causing the shadow raised his arms to strike at Zach. He quickly rolled to his left, came up to one knee, and pulled his pistol. Only his fast reflexes keep him from firing at the striking young woman standing there with a shovel raised above her head. "Ma'am, take it easy," Zach said in a soft voice. "No one is going to hurt you." He holstered his gun and slowly stood up. She's more of a girl than a woman, Zach thought. The young woman's hair was mussed and her bonnet was pushed off to one side of her head. The bonnet was a dark blue which contrasted nicely with her auburn almost red hair. The blue eyes were wide and had a wild look in them. Her face and hands were just beginning to tan and weather as if she hadn't spent much time outside. She was about 5' 7 which was tall for a woman of that time. The woman turned to face Zach, with the shovel still raised above her head. It was several seconds of staring at him before she lowered her weapon. "That's right Ma'am. No one is going to hurt you," Zach repeated. He held his hands out in a peaceful gesture. "I'm Zachery Carson ma'am." There was no response from the girl. She continued to stare at Zach. "What's your name Miss?" Zach smiled at the woman and chuckled. "You're too young to be called Ma'am." After several more seconds the woman replied. "My name is Lady Kathleen Astor." "Lady?" Zach asked. He really didn't care, people could call themselves whatever they wanted in his mind, but it was the first response from the girl. "Yes Lady. My father is Sir Gerald Astor, a Knight of the Realm; therefore my title is Lady." "A Knight of the Realm? What's that? What realm?" Zach knew but he wanted to keep her talking. She looked a little shaky and sometimes talking helped to steady people. "Father was knighted by Her Majesty, Queen Victoria, for his military service to the crown in India." Kathleen stood tall and regal as she recited her father's accomplishments. She's very full of herself, Zach thought and smiled. This country will take that out of her soon enough. "All right Milady," he said stressing the title. "Care to tell me what happened?" "Isn't it obvious?" Lady Astor answered. "We were set on by ruffians." Pointing to the two dead men she continued. "Serves them right for what they did." "It serves them right to get killed protecting you?" Zach shook his head in disbelief. "Not for that. Those two kidnapped me and made away with me in the night. They said they were going to demand a ransom from my father." Kathleen's voice quivered as she spoke. Zach couldn't tell if it was anger that the men had treated her in such a manner or if it was relief that the men no longer had control over her or the thought of her fate if the men wouldn't honor their word once the ransom had been paid. "Where?" He asked. "Where what?" "Where were you when they took you?" Zach explained. "I was in Phoenix, Arizona to meet my father. He was coming from a place called Prescott. We were going back to our ranch outside of this Prescott place." "Phoenix is over eighty miles from here. How long ago did this happen?" "It must have been five or six days ago that they took me." Zach thought about where they were and how long out of Phoenix they were. "Any idea where those men were taking you?" "I heard that one say they were going to hole up somewhere near a place named Ajo." She pointed to the larger of the two dead men. "That's another three day's ride. Have any idea who attacked you Kathleen?" "You will address me as Lady Astor or Lady Kathleen or Milady, young man," She said with a haughty air. Lady Kathleen was in control of herself again. "Titles don't mean much out here Kathleen," Zach said. "Best you learn that." He watched as she struggled with herself not to chastise him again. "Now, who attacked you?" "The other one," Kathleen pointed at the small dead man, "yelled that they were Comancheros just before he was shot." Nodding his head, Zach muttered in a soft voice, "That's what I thought." Then aloud he asked, "How did the bandits miss finding you?" "There is a false bottom in the wagon; that was used it to get me out of Phoenix." Kathleen shook her head. "When we were attacked, I climbed back into it and pulled the cover over me and didn't come out until I heard you moving around this morning." She shook her head. "I might have killed you." "Not likely Kathleen," Zach replied with a grin. "How many men were in the band that attacked you?" "I counted about ten before I hid in the wagon. There may have been more; it certainly sounded like a lot. All that yelling and shouting and gun fire." "That's about the number I got from the tracks," Zach said and turned toward the wagon. "Take me back to Phoenix," she ordered. "I'll pay you a fair price to return me to my father." When Zach didn't respond, she added, "I'm sure my father will reward you also." Zach ignored her and started rummaging through the things from the wagons. He picked up two canteens from the driver's box and threw their straps across one shoulder. Some dried beans had escaped the search of the Comancheros and Zach pushed them back into their burlap sack. Waling over to his horse, he emptied the beans into his saddlebags and tied them off behind his saddle and turned to Kathleen. "We need to make tracks Miss. You got anything else to wear? That dress just won't do." "What's wrong with my dress? It was made by the finest seamstress that I could find." The dress was from an expensive dress maker in New York. Kathleen had visited the shop and bought several outfits before she started west to meet her father. As an attractive dress it was a success; it had a bustle and showed off her figure very well without being too forward. As clothing for hard traveling it was a joke. "It's got too much cloth," Zach answered. He looked up at the position of the sun. "It's not much past 7 AM and it's already close to 80, I'd bet. And it's going to get hotter. That dress will be very hot and make you sweat, which means you'll need more water." "There's a full water barrel on the wagon," Kathleen protested. Zach held up the two canteens and pointed to the one tied to his saddle. "This is all the water we can carry and we have to share it with Buck." Turning he walked toward the spring. "Now find something else to wear while I feed and water Buck then we need to get on our way out of here." "I'll wear what I like young man," Kathleen argued. Zach turned and walked back to her. For the first time she saw a different man. His eyes blazed and his face was hard looking. "Listen Missy, I don't know what made the Comancheros leave all this plunder," he pointed the wagon and the goods strewn around. "But they could come back for it" He looked at her and added, "And anything else that was overlooked. I don't like our chances fighting off ten or so men. Hell someone else could see the smoke and come to finish the job." When Zach returned from the spring, leading Buck, the sun was low in the sky. He could see Kathleen searching through a large trunk. The raiders, for whatever reason, hadn't done more than opened it and the contents had not been bothered much. She turned, holding something in her hands, and looked at Zach. "Where, in this God forsaken land do you expect me to change clothes?" Zach smiled and replied. "Your Majesty will just have to make do with the wagon." He noticed the things she was holding. "What did you find to wear?" Kathleen held up another dress. It was less ornate than the one she was wearing but it still had a full skirt and a bustle. She also had a pair of shoes, which were good for walking along the boulevard in New York or St. Louis, but weren't much use in the desert. "You'll need to find something else," Zach ordered. "And be quick because we're leaving in a few minutes." Kathleen sighed and continued to look through the trunk. Zach climbed into the wagon, under the canopy over the bed and looked around for anything else they could use. He found a relatively clean pair of whipcord pants and a shirt that must have belonged to the smaller man. Taking them outside, he threw them to Kathleen. "Get in the wagon and put these on," Zach told her. Seeing the rebellious look she gave him, he added, "Do it or get left behind. And do it now, I'm leaving in five minutes; with or without you." It seemed like the fight went out of the young woman. She took the clothes and got into the wagon. While Kathleen was changing, Zach looked through her trunk. He found a nice pair of riding boots with a low heel. Taking them to the wagon, he tossed them through an opening in the cover. "Put these on, they'll hold up better than those things you're wearing now." Zach went back to his horse and finished getting the animal ready. Kathleen looked so funny in the too long pants and they kept trying to slip down over her hips. Zach cut a piece of rope, wove it through the belt loops, and cinched it tight. The entire time, Kathleen looked at him like he was crazy. How dare he touch me in that manner, she thought. Zach knelt, took out his hunting knife, and cut her pant legs off so they didn't drag the ground. There wasn't much he could do about the shirt. He placed a wide brim hat that he'd taken from one of the dead men on her head. The hat settled down over her ears, making her look even funnier. "I can't wear this," Kathleen said in protest as she took the hat off. "It's filthy and belongs to a dead man." "That's just what you'll be, dead, if you don't wear it." Zach softened his voice and added, "The sun out here isn't like it is back in England. It'll fry your brain if you don't protect yourself. Wear the hat Lady Kathleen," he requested. She looked at the hat, then at Zach, and back at the hat then put the hat back on. "Aren't you going to give those men a burial?" "Hadn't planned on it," Zach answered as he continued to ready Buck for travel. The Ballad of Zachery Carson Ch. 01 "But it's the Christian thing to do." "Kidnapping you wasn't a Christian thing to do to you. What they had planned for you wasn't Christian either." Zach turned and gave her a hard look. "I'd bet they were going to have a little fun before you got back to your father, if you ever did, and you were going to be their entertainment. So in my mind they don't deserve burying." As Zach turned back to his horse, he added in a low voice, "Sides, varmints got a right to eat too." He led the horse over to Kathleen and said, "Let's hit the trail." "I can't ride astride; it's not lady like." "We don't have a side saddle for Milady," Zach replied with a grin. "Either you climb up and throw a leg over or you walk." He mounted, cleared his foot from one stirrup and reached his hand down to help Kathleen get up. She scowled at him and then put her foot in the stirrup, grabbed his hand and allowed herself to be pulled up behind Zach. "Hang on tight," Zach suggested. "We're going to put some miles between us and these wagons and we don't have time to take it easy doing it." Kathleen tentatively put her arms around Zach's waist. She almost lost her seat when Zach spurred his horse and she hung on tighter. To Be Continued The Ballad of Zachery Carson Ch. 02 Please read Chapter One before continuing. I appreciate any comments, critiques, and/or emails you might have. The Ballad of Zachery Carson Ch. 03 Please read the preceding chapters before continuing. I would be interested and appreciate any comments, constructive critiques and/or emails you might like to make. The Ballad of Zachery Carson Ch. 03 "How long I been out?" "Counting the day and a half on the trail, I'd say four days. That about right Lady Astor?" Nodding her head, Kathleen answered, "Yes, four days. Although he did wake up now and then while we were on the trail." "I remember something about a cart and being hot and hurting," Zach said. Using his good right arm, he pushed himself higher up against the headboard. "He shouldn't over exert himself," Dr. Simpson said to Kathleen. "I know but he's like a stubborn horse," she replied. "Hey. I'm right here," Zach said. "Y'all quit talking about me like I'm not in the room." "Sorry," the doctor responded. "We've gotten use to you being asleep." He smiled at Zach. "What would you like to know son?" "I'd like to know how Kathleen and I got here. Last I remember was passing out on that rock trail over the saddleback." "If you eat all your soup, I'll tell you," Kathleen said as she pushed another spoonful into his mouth. She continued to spoon fed Zach until the bowl was empty. Every time he tried to talk, she'd shove the spoon in his mouth again. "Now, let's make you more comfortable and I'll tell you a story," Kathleen told him. She helped Zach to sit a little higher and put a rolled up blanker behind his shoulders. "After you passed out, I really didn't know what to do," she began. "A few minutes went by and I realized that if we stayed out there, neither of us would make it. I remembered how you'd watered your horse so I took your hat, by the way you'll need a new hat, that one got to be a little bit gamey. Anyway I took your hat and a canteen back down onto the mesa. I thought I might use the water to coax one of the dead men's horses close enough to capture it. If I could get a horse, I thought we could make it to Tucson." Zach yawned. "Sorry," he said. But very shortly, his head slumped to the side and he was asleep again. Dr. Simpson patted Kathleen on the hand. "It's normal for him to tire easy. He's been through a lot. Our Zach will wake up in a few hours and he'll be hungry. I'll go arrange for some more soup and maybe a biscuit." The doctor was right, three hours later Zach was awake again Kathleen was still by his side and went to bring Dr. Simpson. He sent her out of the room while he examined Zach. As he finished, a young lad from the café brought in some soup and biscuits. Zach ate all his soup and a biscuit under Kathleen's watchful eye. Then she continued her story. "From my hiding spot I'd seen the cart pull up behind the Comancheros, then the driver abandoned it and retreated from the battle. When I got down onto the flat, it was still there. The horse had wandered and pulled the cart into a big bush. I gave the horse some water to calm him down and then backed him up to free the cart. As I was leading the horse and cart over to the pass, another horse must have smelled the water and came to me. I gave him some water too and tied him to the cart." Kathleen smiled and then chuckled. "The cart contained some food stuffs, water and those robber's ill gotten gains. I threw everything except a couple of blankets, a little food, and the water out of the cart to lighten it and we started for Tucson. Switching the horses back and forth to pull the cart we made good time. Do you know how heavy you are? I do, because I lifted you into the cart." "Thank you Milady," Zach said and then grinned. "Maybe we should have got one of the heroes in the dime novels to save us." "Your deeds were heroic enough for me Zach," Kathleen replied. She held up a newspaper. "There's a very nice story about you and me and our adventure in the paper." Kathleen gave him a wicked little grin and added, "The man that sold me that book about Kit Carson was singing a song as he hawked his wares; The Ballad of Kit Carson he said it was. Maybe I should write a song about you. I could call it, 'The Ballad of Zachery Carson'; maybe I should write one of those dime novels about our experiences." "I think the sun and heat made you loco Kathleen," Zach said and shook his head. Turning to Dr. Simpson he asked, "How long will I be laid up?" "Another four or five days I think. The bullet didn't do a lot of critical damage; of course it doesn't feel that way to you. We'll get some real food in you tomorrow and get you up and moving around a little. After a few days I'll let you stay out of bed if you promise to take it easy." The next morning Dr. Simpson brought Zach a scrambled egg, a piece of toast, and a cup of weak coffee. "Let's see if you can keep this down," he said. "If you do we can get you something more substantial for supper." Later that day, Zach has just finished eating his supper when Kathleen came into his room followed by an older gentleman. "Zach, this is my father, Sir Gerald Astor," she said. "Father, this is Zach Carson, the man that saved me." "I say Mr. Carson; it's a pleasure to meet you. And thank you for helping Kathleen." Astor's voice and tone left no doubt what country he hailed from as he shook Zach's good hand. Sir Gerald Astor was tall and slim with dark reddish brown hair, long sideburns and a bushy moustache to match. He had large hands and a fair complexion which had the beginnings of a sun tan. Pointing at the bandage around Zach's shoulder he added, "Got nicked a bit did you? I hope you are not wounded too grievously." "It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Astor. I think it was more of Kathleen and me saving each other. I wouldn't have made it to Tucson without her quick thinking." Zach ran his right hand over the bandage on his left shoulder. "Doc says I'll be up and around in a couple of days." "When you are 'up and around' as you say, stop by and see us at the Grand Hotel. Kathleen and I will be in town for several days," Astor suggested. "Till then, good night." He turned and left the room. "Father's like a whirlwind sometimes," Kathleen offered with a smile. "Please do come see us." Then she followed her father. To Be Continued... The Ballad of Zachery Carson Ch. 04 By Woodmanone copyright May, 2013 Please take the time to read the preceding chapters before going on with this one. As usual any constructive comments, critiques, and/or emails are welcome and appreciated. The Ballad of Zachery Carson Ch. 04 "Reckon I'll talk to Sir Gerald and see what we can work out. He mentioned $12 a head, but that's a bit rich for my blood. It don't give me much leeway for a profit when I ship." Motioning for Zach to follow him again, Billings rode down the rise to the creek that ran across that part of the ranch. Pulling up under some Cottonwoods, he dismounted. Zach did the same and led Gris to the stream and let him drink a little. "Tell you what Zach, I like you and ifin you're serious about startin a herd, meet me here in the morning after breakfast," Billings suggested. "I can let you have up to 50 cattle for $8 a head. That'd give you the start of a good size herd and at a price that leaves you room for some profit." "But Sir Gerald said..." "Don't you worry about Astor; this is between you and me." He noticed Zach hesitating. "Look nobody gets hurt and everyone gets what they want. You get the start of a herd at a price you can stomach and I get a little fee for helping you." "Sounds like rustling to me," Zach said. "Don't know if I want to get caught up in that." "You don't have to. Me and a couple of my boys, Jim Dawson and Sam Colton, will meet you at that trail head we rode by earlier. You give me the money and take the cattle. Hell, I'll even give you a bill of sale and the boys will help you drive em to your spread. All you'll have to know is that you bought some cattle and got a bill of sale." "Let me think on it until after supper," Zach replied. "If I'm a mind to take you up on your offer, I'll let you know how many head I can handle." Billings nodded and mounted his horse. "See you after supper." Zach watched him ride away toward the bunk house. "You'll see me after supper and then you have a lot to answer for," he said softly. Zach mounted and rode to the ranch house to report the day's happenings to Sir Gerald. To Be Continued The Ballad of Zachery Carson Ch. 05 Please read the previous chapters before wading into this one. I welcome and appreciate all comments, critiques and/or emails; but especially constructive ones. The Ballad of Zachery Carson Ch. 05 "Damn, Josh Cobb and all the men are on the south range on round up," Zach said, more to himself than to Paco. He put the wagon team in the corral and went into the barn to saddle Sir Gris. Guess I'll have to put a stop to this all by my lonesome, he thought. Zach went into the big house, got his rifle and told Mrs. Kraft where he was heading. "If Josh and the men come in from the south range, send a few after me; I may need their help to get our cattle back." He returned to the barn, finished saddling Gris, and put his Winchester into the saddle scabbard under his right leg. As he led his horse out of the barn Zach saw that Paco had turned his winded mount into the corral and switched his saddle to a sturdy buckskin mustang. He was waiting for Zach. "Paco, it could be a mite hairy if I catch up to them," Zach said. "I can't ask you to go along." "You and Senor Sir Gerald have given me and my family a home on the ranch and I will not allow anyone to steal from us." Paco gave Zach a grim smile as he made sure his own rifle was secure and loaded. "These men must atone for their sins Patron." "Reckon so," Zach replied with his own grim smile. "It's 20 to 25 miles to Jerome and it'll take em two to three days to make the drive. If they bed the herd down tonight we can catch em by morning. Let's ride." Zach put Gris into a ground covering lope to the northeast. Zach and Paco found the herd bedded down by first light. The grey of the morning showed the rustlers had bunched the cattle against a rock butte. One man was riding night herd to keep the cattle from straying. Zach pointed to a cut about a mile away through the hills where the herd would have to be driven. He and Paco circled the cattle and the camp and found cover in the cut. "The cattle will be hard to push at first so we'll wait," Zach said. "Were I driving 50 head with four men, I'd use two riding between swing and flank and the other two at drag. When the two swing men pass us you cover them and I'll brace the other two. Agreed?" "Si Patron." "We'll give them a chance to drop their weapons and surrender. If they fight, we'll have to kill them. Are you ready for that Paco?" "As I said Patron, these men must atone for their sins against my home. I will do what I must." Zach nodded and pointed to a spot about half way up one of the hills above the cut. Paco quickly made his way to cover behind a big pine tree father east and about thirty yards up the hill. Zach settled in just off the trail behind some rocks. They heard the cattle before they saw them and waited. Slowly the lead element of the herd made its way through the low divide between the hills. Zach had been right; there were two men alternating between swing and flank on each side of the cattle. The other two were pushing the cattle from behind in the drag position. Zach waited until the swing men passed and then stood from behind the rocks. He held Winchester across his chest at the ready and confronted the last two men. To Be Continued The Ballad of Zachery Carson Ch. 06 Please read the previous chapters before continuing. I welcome and appreciate any constructive comments, critiques, and/or emails you might care to send my way. ******************** Chapter Six "You boys are driving Astor Manor cattle and I don't think you bought them," he yelled. "Throw down your guns, then tell the other two to do likewise and we won't have any trouble. If you don't you'll die in your saddle." The two men exchanged glances. "I'll see you in Hell first," the older one said and drew his pistol. Zach brought his rifle to his shoulder and shot twice in quick succession. He heard Paco's big Sharps buffalo rifle firing behind him and turned. One of the two swing riders was down and the other was whipping his horse to get more speed as he rode away from the deadly fire. Zach looked down at the two men he'd shot as Paco checked on his man. Zach motioned to Paco and they gathered the men's horses. Most working cowboys carried tools to work on horseshoes in their saddle bags. Zach and Paco removed the rustler's horse's shoes, stripped off the saddles and other tack and let the horses go. Now they would have no trouble fending for themselves. The next hour was spent piling rocks over the rustler's bodies. "I'll send a man into Prescott to tell the Sheriff where the bodies are," Zach said to Paco." He mounted Gris. "We got cattle to roundup. Let's get to it." The cattle hadn't continued to move up through the pass when the push from the drag stopped. They had spread out, grazing on the sweet grass growing in the clearing at the base of the hills. Zach and Paco bunched the small herd together and started driving them back to Astor Manor. "Can't get home today and I'd don't want to drive them at night so we'll stop at Two Springs at dusk and then head on in tomorrow morning," Zach suggested. "Si Patron." At first light Zach and Paco put the cattle back on the trail home. Not more than an hour into the drive, three of Astor Manor's hands met them on the trail. There were now five men to drive the cattle back to the ranch. One of the men rode point leading the herd; two rode drag pushing the cattle forward, while Zach and Paco rode swing on either side to keep the herd bunched together. They were able to get the cattle back to the north pasture of the ranch by dusk. Zach and Paco parted ways at the ranch buildings; Paco went to his family at the cottage and Zach rode up to the barn. He unsaddled Gris, brushed him down and made sure he had food and water. Zach stretched his back muscles as he walked toward the ranch house. Gettin old I guess, he thought. Harder to make two day rides now than a few years ago. As Zach entered the house he could hear Sir Gerald talking and heard Kathleen chuckle at what her father was saying. "Guess they made it home," Zach said to himself. "Don't feel much like socializing but I oughta say hello at least." He walked into the big room to greet Sir Gerald and Kathleen. The first thing he noticed was a young man sitting on the sofa next to Kathleen. Zach also saw that she was wearing one of her fancy dresses instead of the ranch clothes she normally had on. Sir Gerald was talking to the young man but Kathleen saw Zach come in. "Hello Zach," she said and stood to greet him. She walked over to him and took his arm. "Come meet our guest," she suggested. "Yes indeed Mr. Carson, let me introduce you two as you'll be working together," Sir Gerald added. The young man stood. "Mr. Carson, this is Nigel Willingham. Nigel, this is Zachery Carson." The two young men shook hands and appraised each other. He's got a good grip and looks right at you, Zach thought. For Nigel's part, he thought Zach was the hardest man he'd ever met. He's all angles and hard muscle. His eyes are intense, but not wild and his manners are more than I'd expect from a cowboy. "Zach is the hero I told you about," Kathleen said to Nigel. Nigel's eyebrow went up and he looked again at Zach. "Lady Kathleen has told me about your adventure in the desert Mr. Carson. Capital sir, capital. Good show." Zach shook his head a little and smiled at Kathleen. "It was more of us saving each other," he protested. "None the less, it was a heroic episode," Sir Gerald interjected. "Have a seat Mr. Carson, there's business to discuss." He turned and called softly, "Mrs. Kraft might we have some coffee please?" "I really need to clean up a mite," Zach protested. "I've been on the trail for two days." "Ah yes, Mrs. Kraft explained about the stolen cattle. Did you find the culprits?" "Yes sir. Me and Paco tracked them down and brought the cattle back to the ranch." "And where are these, rustlers, I think you call them?" Nigel asked. The tone was one of interest. "Three of the rustlers are under a pile of rocks out on the trail," Zach answered. "One of them got away. Paco and me had cattle to drive or we would have gone after him." Turning to Sir Gerald, Zach added, "We'll need to send someone in tomorrow to tell the Sheriff where to find them." Kathleen could tell that Zach was bothered at having to kill the men. "What happened Zach?" She asked gently. Zach told them about how he and Paco trailed the men with the cattle and how they'd given the rustlers a chance to surrender. "They sometimes hang cattle thieves in this part of the country," Zach said. "Reckon they decided they had a better chance pulling down on us than they would with the law." His eyes looked across the room but it was far out on the trail he saw. "They were wrong; dead wrong," Zach finished. "Ahem," Sir Gerald muttered. "Well go make yourself presentable and rejoin us please." "Mr. Carson, I do hope you will return," Nigel said and offered Zach his hand. "I'm very sorry about your ordeal." Zach shook the hand, nodded, and went to his room across the breezeway. Mr. Kraft was just leaving the room as Zach walked up. "Put some towels and water in your room Zach. And the missus washed and ironed your best shirt and pants; they're laid out on the bed." "Thanks Joseph." Zach closed his door and stripped. After washing the trail dust off, he quickly dressed in what he called his 'Sunday go to meetin" clothes. Joseph appeared at the door as Zach was leaving and gathered up the used towels and the water pitcher and basin. Zach nodded and walked back across the breezeway to the big room of the ranch house. "Ah, here you are Mr. Carson," Sir Gerald greeted Zach with a smile. "And in your best bib and tucker I see." He motioned Zach to a big chair. "Perhaps you'd like a whiskey," Nigel said and handed Zach a thick glass about half full of Sir Gerald's liquor. "To wash down the trail dust, I believe you Westerners say." "Maybe I ought to hear what y'all have to say before I drink this," Zach replied. "I still find it quite interesting how you Americans are so direct and to the point," Sir Gerald remarked. Turning to Nigel he said, "We British could learn a lesson from them about that. No flowery speech or talking a subject to death; direct and to the point, that's the ticket old man." Kathleen smiled at her father. After all this time, he's still fascinated by this country and these people, she thought. "All right Mr. Carson, we'll get right to it," Sir Gerald said. "I'm going back to my estate in Berkshire. My brother has been running it but now he wants to migrate to Australia or New Zealand or some such place; although why any Englishman would want to live there is beyond me. After thinking about it, I realized that I miss England and going home would be a good thing." "When will you be leaving Sir Gerald?" Zach asked already planning where he would go next. "I'll be leaving in three months or so, just after the roundup and shipping our stock. Nigel will be my agent in St. Louis for selling our cattle. I believe, as Nigel does, that we can make a better profit by selling the cattle directly to the meat packing plants in St. Louis." Sir Gerald motioned to Nigel and the young man explained. "I've done an intense investigation on the matter," Nigel said. "Astor Manor has been getting between 17 and 21 dollars per steer at our rail head. Those same animals sell for 29 to 35 dollars at the St. Louis packing plants. Depending on the market, sometimes the price goes to over $38 per head." Zach thought for a moment. "What does it cost us to ship to St. Louis?" He asked. Sir Gerald smiled and turned to Nigel. "I told you he would see the intricacies of our plan." Turning back to Zach he answered, "$4 a head if the railroad loads and unloads our cattle; $2.50 if we load them here and unload them in St. Louis." "So the ranch will make at least an additional $5 to $6 a head at low market price," Zach said. "That's if we load and unload the herd ourselves. If we ship a 100 head, that's at least an extra $500." He thought about the men necessary for the job. "We'd need four to five men for the St. Louis end of the trip. Pay for their return trip and give them a bonus of $15 for the job and y'all are still ahead over $400." "Is a bonus necessary for the men?" Nigel asked. "Never short change your help," Sir Gerald answered before Zach could speak. Looking at his ranch boss he added, "That's something I learned from you Mr. Carson." Zach smiled and nodded. "What do you think of the plan?" "It's a good plan, but I would suggest we ship twice a year instead of one," Zach answered. "Most cattle drives and shipping are in the fall. Maybe we'll get a better price in late spring." "Capital Zach," Nigel offered. "I was so locked in on the way the other ranchers did things I never saw the potential." "It's settled then," Sir Gerald said. "We'll ship twice next year and revisit the plan after the second shipment." He finished his whiskey and said, "In the meantime Zach, I'd like for you to show Nigel the day to day operations of the ranch. He needs to know the why and how our cattle get to him for selling." Zach nodded, "I can show Mr. Willingham around." "Please call me Nigel, Mr. Carson. I'd like more than a tour, if you don't mind," Nigel said. "If I'm to know how a real ranch operates, I need to get involved in all aspects of the work." "No offense Nigel, but the roundup, branding and a cattle drive is a mite rougher and harder than riding to hounds," Zach offered. "I'm an accomplished rider Mr. Carson; really I am. My riding tack is in my room and I would appreciate your help and guidance in selecting a horse." Zach smiled. You've got a lot to learn Nigel, he thought. "All right, we'll start first thing tomorrow morning. Meet me at the corral and the name's Zach." "Now to the most important thing," Sir Gerald said. "I'd like to draw up a contract between us Mr. Carson about your continued employment at Astor Manor." "I don't need a contract Sir Gerald. I'll stay until you sell the ranch and help the new owners get settled." "Oh, you misunderstand. I'm not selling Astor Manor; not at all. I'll want you to take over control of the ranch." Sir Gerald chuckled at the look on Zach's face. "We will put it all in writing but this is what I propose. I will retain 75% ownership of Astor Manor and you will be given the other 25%. In addition any proceeds from the horse breeding business will be yours exclusively. The only stipulation is that you may not sell your part of the ranch. If you decide you must leave you will sell your share back to me. Are we agreed?" Zach was more than surprised at the offer. Sure that Sir Gerald was going to sell the ranch, Zach had already began making plans to finally head to California. "Well?" Kathleen asked. "Do you accept Zach?" After several seconds Zach answered, "Man would be a fool to pass up that offer and my folks didn't raise any fools. Of course, I accept and thank you Sir Gerald." Waving his hand in a dismissive gesture Sir Gerald replied, "Think nothing of it Mr. Carson. You've made Astor Manor a profitable cattle business and you deserve your reward." In a softer tone, he added, "To say nothing of saving my Kathleen." That evening after Sir Gerald and Kathleen had turned in, Zach sat in the breezeway with a last cup of coffee. Come a long way since I left Missouri, he thought. Never figured to be a ranch boss and sure didn't figure to own part of a nice place like Astor Manor. Over the years Zach had written a few letters back home, telling his parents and his brother where he was and what he was doing. If he stayed in one place long enough he got letters back telling about how the farm and family was doing. His reason for leaving home was still valid but Zach did miss Missouri. He stood and emptied his cup. "Reckon Pa and Ma will be proud when I write and tell them about my ranch," he said softly into the night. At first light, Zach was at the corral waiting for Nigel. He'd saddle Gris and had chosen Mr. Woodstock for the Englishman. After waiting a half an hour, Zach went back to the house and to Nigel's room. He knocked on the door, waited a little then banged on the door with the flat of his hand. "Yes?" Nigel's sleepy voice called. "Nigel, half the morning is gone. If you're going with me, you need to get down to the corral in ten minutes," Zach answered and left the house. It was closer to twenty minutes than ten when Nigel, carrying his saddle tack, made it to the corral. The sun was peeking over the hills and you could begin to see the shadows of the men and horses. "You consider this the middle of the morning?" Nigel asked. Zach smiled. "Usually we're out working with the cattle by now." Noticing the tack Nigel was carrying he grinned and looked down. Zach started to comment about the English saddle without a saddle horn and the way Nigel was dressed but thought he'll learn soon enough and pointed to Mr. Woodstock. Nigel put the blanket on the horse, cinched up his saddle and mounted. Nigel was wearing a shirt with a button on collar and a black string tie. His classic English riding breeches were beige and he wore a black frock coat cinched in by a wide black belt and black boots with a short heel. On his head he had a bowler hat with a string that tied under his chin. "This will be a mite different than riding to hounds like you've been doing," Zach said smiling at the way Nigel was dressed. "That pony you're riding will turn quick and fast. He'll chase strays and set you up to rope em." He handed Nigel a coiled lariat. "Best just give him his head and hang on." "Thank you for the warning but I'm an accomplished rider," Nigel replied. "We'll see," Zach said with a grin and mounted Gris. Motioning toward the hill above the ranch house he led Nigel toward the herd in the south meadow. The southern herd was scattered over the country side a bit. The rider's first job was to round up the cattle, bunch them, and brand the yearlings and any others that had been missed in the spring branding. Pointing to four or five cattle on a small rise to the west, Zach and Nigel circled around to come up behind the animals. They began to drive them toward the flat ground where more of the cattle milled around. One of the steers decided that it didn't want to go down onto the flat and took off directly away from the small group. Mr. Woodstock didn't wait for Nigel to give him orders, but took off after the steer. In two jumps he was at a full gallop and Nigel almost lost his seat when one of his feet came out of the stirrup and did lose the little bowler hat he'd been wearing. The horse quickly overtook the offending animal and guided him back to the others. As Mr. Woodstock pranced along behind the run away, Nigel was able to get his right boot back into the stirrup. It was everything that Zach could do to keep from laughing out loud. Back on the flat, the men had put several branding irons in a hot fire. The cattle would be roped and drug over to the fire where another mounted cowboy would throw a loop around the animal's rear feet. The two roping horses would pull in opposite directions until the cow or steer would fall over. Another hand would grab a red hot branding iron and put Astor Manor's mark on the rump of the downed steer's rump. The animal would be released and when it stood would be driven to join others that had already been marked. The four teams of ropers kept the men at the two fires working hard. The hands would shift from branding to roping now and then. Zach pointed to a steer and said to Nigel, "You might as well rope that steer and drag him over to the fire." Nigel looked at him with a strange look on his face. "You said you wanted to learn about the ranch and that's part of it," Zach reminded him. Nigel turned Mr. Woodstock toward the targeted animal and the horse took over from there. He got Nigel in position but he missed twice before he was able to get a line on the steer. Mr. Woodstock had a look that on a human would have shown frustration. The steer didn't like the feel of the noose as it settled over its neck and took off at a run. Nigel didn't have a chance of holding the running animal with his arms and came off his horse. He landed heavily and moaned. Mr. Woodstock looked down at his rider, turned, and raced after the steer. Zach rode over and waited for Nigel to get to his feet. The Englishman winched as he stood up and looked down at the rope burns on his hands. He dusted himself off; his face was red with embarrassment. Zach offered a stirrup to Nigel, got him up on Gris, and took him back to the fire. Mr. Woodstock was standing by the horses waiting to get back to work. "Maybe you should help with the branding for a spell,' Zach suggested. Nigel nodded and went over to the men at the fires. As late afternoon rolled around, the southern herd had all been branded and were moved to another area to graze. Zach gathered Nigel and they rode back to the ranch house. Nigel slid off Mr. Woodstock and started toward the house. "You need to tend to your horse Nigel," Zach said. "We don't have grooms and such on the ranch; everyone takes care of their own animals." Nigel nodded and followed Zach's example as he unsaddled, combed and curried his horse, and fed and watered Gris. Then they walked up to the house. "Now we'll clean ourselves for supper," Zach said and walked to the outdoor pump. His smiled at Nigel's appearance. The man had lost his hat the first time his horse went after a steer, his breeches were dirty and torn, the frock coat was split up the back and his hands had rope burns. Nigel had also been thrown off his horse several times. He walked as if he were 90 years old. "Well, how did our guest do today?" Sir Gerald asked at supper. "I made a right fool of myself, I think," Nigel answered. "Wouldn't rightly call you a fool Nigel," Zach replied. "You found out why we're equipped the way we are and some of what it takes to work the ranch." Zach took a sip of the whiskey Sir Gerald had poured for them. "But I've got to hand it to you; you never shirked the hard work and tried your best at everything that was thrown at you. No, I wouldn't call you a fool, just uneducated about ranch life." "I'll do better tomorrow," Nigel promised. "You're going out again?" Kathleen asked. "One day doesn't a ranch hand make," Nigel said and grinned. "See you at first light Zach. Now, I think I will retire. Excuse me please." He stood with a groan and went to his bedroom. Nigel was waiting for Zach at the corral the next morning. He held Mr. Woodstock's reins and the horse wore a western saddle. The Englishman had on whipcord pants and a work shirt, both well worn. Looking closer at his hat, Zach realized it was an old one of his that he kept in the barn. Sir Gris was tied to the rail, saddled and ready to go to work. Zach smiled at Nigel checked his saddle cinch, mounted, and motioned for Nigel to follow him. The Ballad of Zachery Carson Ch. 06 This day's work would be the herd grazing to the east of the ranch house. Nigel watched when Zach roped a straying steer. The next one that took off, he pointed Mr. Woodstock at the runaway animal and gave the horse its head. When he got close enough he threw his lariat and as the noose settled over the steer's horns he took a couple of turns around the saddle horn and pulled in on the reins. Mr. Woodstock braced hisself and when the rope tightened the steer was jerked to a stop. Nigel turned his horse and brought the stray back to the herd. Zach pointed to the gloves that Nigel was wearing, nodded his approval, tipped his hat at Nigel, and went after another steer. Nigel took his turn at the branding fires, learning how to throw the calves and smaller yearlings. He watched and copied the men's movements as they would rush in to apply a hot iron and dance back. Nigel offered to tend to Gris for Zach when they got back to the corral at the end of the work day. "No thanks Nigel," Zach said. "I like to spend the time with the big fellar and tell him what a good horse he is. Go on ahead and get cleaned up; I'll be along shortly." Nigel finished tending to Mr. Woodstock and then walked slowly and stiffly up to the ranch house. For the next month Zach taught Nigel the workings of the ranch. Almost each day he learned more and became a pretty good wrangler. "Not something I'd like to do for a living," Nigel admitted at dinner the night before he went back to St. Louis. "You done good Nigel," Zach said. "Now, when you're sitting in that office, remember how much work and luck is necessary to bring our cattle to your buyers." Zach smiled. "Maybe you won't be so eager to sell em cheap." Sir Gerald, Kathleen, and Nigel left the next morning. Kathleen planned on accompanying her father to St. Louis. She would do a little shopping and take advantage of the things a big city could offer for a month until Sir Gerald went on to New York and then to England. Three weeks after they left, Zach got a telegram telling him that Kathleen had decided to go on to New York with her father. Then, two weeks later he got another saying that she was going to visit Berkshire England and wouldn't return to Astor Manor for several months. ******************** "It will nice to have Miss Kathleen home again," Mrs. Kraft said to Zach as he finished breakfast. They'd received word that she'd arrived in Prescott on the previous evening's train and it had been too late to finish her journey. Mr. Kraft had started before daylight with a carriage to bring her home. Kathleen would be coming out to the ranch about mid day. "Yep, she's been gone for most six months now," Zach replied. "Be good to see her." He stood, put on his hat and started for the door. "Got to work the cattle on the north range today; I'll be back about supper time." Instead of staying out on the range all day as he normally did, Zach made it a point to ride back to the ranch house when the sun told him it was high noon. Kathleen was sitting in a rocker in the breezeway. She waved to him and bounced down the rise to meet Zach at the corrals. As he dismounted, Kathleen hugged him. "Hello Lady Kathleen," Zach hugged her back and responded, "It's good to see you too." "I've missed my knight and the ranch," she said. Kathleen walked over to Gris and reached up to stroke and smooth the forelock hanging between his ears. "I've got so much to tell you and talk to you about Zach." Linking her arm in his, she added, "But it can wait. Mrs. Kraft has lunch prepared for us; come eat and then maybe you'll join me on a ride around Astor Manor." After eating, Zach saddle Chuckles for Kathleen and they rode around the ranch until dinner time. They took the time to clean up after their ride and sat down to a feast. "You deserve some good food now that you're home," Mrs. Kraft said as she and her husband served Kathleen and Zach. After dinner, Kathleen poured Zach a whiskey, gave him one of her father's cigars and led him to the breezeway. "Zach, we need to talk," she said as they sat in two rocking chairs. "We about talked out how glad you were to be back at the ranch Kathleen," Zach replied with a grin. "No, I mean we need to talk about us," she said. "What about us?" To Be Continued The Ballad of Zachery Carson Ch. 07 Please read the previous chapters before wading into this one. I welcome and appreciate all comments, critiques and/or emails; but especially constructive ones.