Chaparral Range War (9781101619049) by Dusty Richards Page B

she’d crawl on my lap. Tell me how she missed me all day since I left that morning. No one could have been sweeter. And she meant it.”
    â€œWell, you’ve had a great life.”
    Noble shook his head. “I guess I ain’t talked that much about myself in years.”
    â€œThanks, it was a good story to hear. Now let’s go find that calf.” Guthrey lifted a lid on the stove to check the fire. It would safely burn out. Then, with the door closed behind him, he went into the early-morning light to pick a horse to ride.
    Noble was already in the corral, shaking out a loop. “What horse you want?”
    â€œThe white one. He looks stout.”
    Noble tossed the loop over the horse’s head and the animal stopped. He was a veteran cow horse, Guthrey decided as Noble dragged his saddle blankets and rig over to saddle him.
    They both had their mounts ready in a few minutes and turned the rest out to graze. In the saddle, they rode west to cross over the hills and headed north to where Guthrey had found Dan. They checked several groups of scattered cows and calves plus some resting roan, shorthorn bulls that rose and stretched their backs at the men’s approach. There was no sign of the Whitmore brand on any of the calves they looked at.
    Noble proved to be a real hand at circling cattle to bring them out of the brush so they could be examined without a lot of unnecessary riding for them. At midday, Guthrey and Noble watered at a tank fed by an iron pipe from a spring. The cool outflow of the spout wet down their mouths and throats as the day’s temperature warmed. Their canteens full again, they gnawed on some jerky that Guthrey had brought along.
    â€œThis country has some good water,” Noble said. “Bridges developed lots of it. Whitmore hasn’t done a damn thing but load more cattle on these ranges.” Disgusted, he shook his head over the deal.
    â€œWhy do the work yourself when you can crowd folks out of where they’ve done theirs?”
    â€œYou’ve got it.” Noble remounted with a little more effort, but he still looked as solid as anyone once his boot soles hit the stirrups.
    There was no sign of the wrong-branded calf, though they were searching in the same country where Guthrey had found Dan. “We better go home. There’s still tomorrow to go look for him again.”
    Noble agreed and sat his hipshot horse. “Oh, he’ll show up.”
    Guthrey agreed. They rode back to the ranch talking about the range. A good drenching rain would help the forage, but in the southwest the rain gods were always stingy. Not much difference between west Texas and this part of the desert country in that respect. But this region had a small edge on moisture that came out of the gulf in the monsoon season, according to folks Guthrey had talked to about it. More brush growth and forage than the same latitude in Texas, which he knew would mean there might be better soil out here as well.
    In another month, those rains were expected, but the good Lord knew when they’d come. After dark, back at the house, he made coffee and they ate leftover cold biscuits and a jar of canned pork sausage balls heated up.
    Noble stood in the doorway as the twilight settled on the land. “When do you reckon Whitmore will try another strike on you?”
    â€œLet him come. I’m ready.”
    â€œI don’t doubt he will, but next time I figure he’ll send six dummies instead of three. By grabs, there’s comfort in numbers among a damn lot of cowards.”
    â€œThere sure is. We can eat now, it’s ready. If they come, they better be in their Sunday clothes.”
    Noble nodded and took his place. “They won’t be as easy the next time.”
    â€œNo, but he ain’t hired any Mexicans so far, has he?” Guthrey asked, pouring them some fresh coffee.
    â€œNo, why?”
    â€œHe hires some of them tough ones, we may need to