Please read Chapter 1. It will help continue the flow of these characters and events.
As usual constructive comments, critiques, and emails are welcome and appreciated.
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"Would you do something for me Marshal?" Henry Johnson nodded. "Send a telegram to my folks in San Antonio and let them know I'm okay and that I'll write them when I get settled somewheres."
Johnson nodded again and Rafe mounted Bowie. He touched his hat brim in a salute, turned westward and continued his ride for the sun.
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Rafe Cassidy rode until midday when he found another stand of cottonwoods on the flat Estacado that stood out like a beacon and stopped to rest his horses, Bowie and Buddy. He'd been holding the horses at a slow lope for half an hour at a time for most of the morning then slowed to a walk for half an hour to rest the horses some. This little oasis didn't have a pool of free standing water like the last one but the sand around a big rock was very wet. He used his metal eating plate to dig a large hole which slowly filled with water.
Unsaddling both animals Rafe wiped the sweat from their coats and let them drink. The water was dingy and sandy but it was fine for the horses. Rafe took a drink from one of his canteens. A little later he fed the horses some grain and then let them graze.
"We'll stop for a couple of hours and then ride until dusk," he told his horses. They continued to graze and ignored him. "You two sure ain't very talkative," Rafe said with a grin.
While the horses grazed, Rafe put a bandana over the spout of one of his canteens. Then he used a coffee cup to fill his canteen. The cloth bandana filtered out most of the sand and dirt so the water, if not clean, was drinkable.
About an hour later, first Bowie and then Buddy raised their heads and looked east. Rafe noticed the horse's interest and pulled his Winchester. I reckon another bounty hunter could be on my trail, he thought. Rafe walked to the edge of the stand of cottonwoods and looked back over the trail.
The land was so flat that he could see a couple of miles or more before the shimmering heat waves obscured his vision. He saw one rider coming at a fast trot. As the figure got closer Rafe recognized Marshal Johnson.
Rafe stepped into the open and waved. Johnson rode over and dismounted. "Can't offer you coffee Marshal, I'm running a cold camp." Holding out his canteen he added, "But I can offer you some slightly gritty spring water."
"No thank ye. I've got two canteens of good water of my own," Johnson replied. "Came out to give you some news."
"What news?"
"Seems like your running days are over." Johnson chuckled at the puzzled look on Rafe's face. "Reece Sheldon has more problems plaguing him than you. Seems he was throwin a wide loop and got caught brandin other people's cattle and runnin them to market."
"Couldn't happen to a nicer fellar," Rafe said with a small grin. "I don't have much sympathy for the Sheldons."
"He's was sent to the Texas state prison in Huntsville. Now Reece ain't in any position to pay a reward for you. The state attached all his property." Johnson offered Rafe his canteen and as he drank the Marshal continued, "His son, Jason is it, sent out telegrams callin off the reward. Guess he doesn't want to have to pay out the $500 from his own pocket."
"Reckon the fight upset Reece more than the boy," Rafe said and shook his head. "Never can tell about folks."
Johnson looked at the youngster for a minute. "You know you can head back to Fort Stockton now ifin you want."
Rafe shook his head. "Fort Stockton was just a layover for a spell."
"Well you could go back home then," the Marshal suggested.
"No sir I can't. If I go home I'll be right back in the fightin."
"Sorry Rafe, I don't understand," Johnson said. "You got no one chasin you now. Why can't you go home?"
Rafe looked down for several seconds. Then he told the Marshal about Juanita, her father, and Ruiz. "If I go back Ruiz will keep sending men after me. I'll end up killing him or getting killed and my family would get involved. Grandpa and Pa wouldn't let anyone run roughshod over me." Rafe chuckled and added, "Nor would my Ma. And she'd be the one they'd have to worry about."
He raised his head and looked at the Marshal. "I'm not a coward and I'll fight when I have to but the only way to stop Ruiz hiring men to come after me would be to kill Ruiz. And if I do I still won't have Juanita." Sighing Rafe added, "So I'll make a life for myself somewheres else.
"Where will you go son?"
"West, I reckon. Hear there's good land in California," Rafe answered. "Maybe I can find a place of my own." He shook hands with Marshal Johnson. "Thanks for your concern and thanks for bringing me the news. You've been a good friend Henry. Now you take it easy gettin back to Roswell. Don't want to ride your horse into the ground."
"I'm in no hurry now. You take care of yourself Rafe." Johnson handed Rafe one of his two canteens, mounted, and rode back toward Roswell.
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Rafe rode at an easy clip as he headed west. He had no one following him or on his trail so he wasn't in a hurry. Rafe still hadn't decided on his final destination. Every day he thought a little less about Juanita and more about what was over the next rise or might be at the end of the trail.
He rode southwest from Roswell to Ruidoso skirting the Llano Estacada. Ruidoso was surrounded by mountains in the middle of Lincoln County. It was beautiful country and a good place to raise cattle. But Rafe heard about the trouble brewing between two men named Murphy and Tunstall. There was gonna be fighting between the Murphy-Dolan faction backed by Sheriff Brady and John Tunstall who had Billy the Kid and others riding with him. No need for me to get involved, he thought and continued west.
Rafe crossed the Magdalena Mountains and his trail cut the Rio Grande. He was finally out of the Estacada and into a more hospitable land. He caught up with a wagon train traveling along the river and hired on as a guard. The wagons were headed to a little settlement called Show Low in Arizona. Three large families and eight wagons made up the group. The families had joined together and bought a large ranch just outside of Show Low.
What they need is a nursemaid, Rafe thought on the fourth day of the journey. I've never saw so many folk that know so little about horses and wagons. It was slow going for the wagons as they made their way over mountains and learned what was needed to travel a long distance by wagon. By the second week on the trail things got better and their trip went a little faster. The wagon train was making twelve to thirteen miles a day.
It was coming on to mid October before the wagons arrived in Show Low. The wagon master offered Rafe a job on the ranch but Rafe didn't want to ride in cold country. Even though Show Low was more like the high plains Rafe had been told about the cold freezing weather in the surrounding mountains. Show Low got little rain or snow from the mountains but did get cold winds that swept across the flat land. Sounds like a northern back home in Texas.
One member of the families, who had been on the original scouting trip to the area, suggested Rafe try Prescott Arizona. "The area has several cattle ranches and the weather isn't as severe as Show Low," the man told him. "There's a ranch called Eagle's Nest about a day's ride out of town that's always lookin for good hands. I met the owner a couple of years ago. Man named Randal; look him up if you get there."
Rafe thank the farmer and the man continued, "Be careful comin down off the Mogollon Rim this time of the year," the rancher told Rafe. "It's five thousand feet and can be tricky if the weather turns bad. I'd say the best way would be to head west to General Crook's Trail and follow it down to the Verde Valley. You can rest up at Camp Verde and then head due north to Prescott."
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General Crook's Trail meandered along the high bluffs of the Mogollon Rim. Sure glad I followed Crook's Trail, Rafe thought as he came down out of the mountains into the Verde Valley. Got lucky the weather held. Would have been real interestin in the rain or snow.
Sure is pretty country, Rafe said to himself; but it'd be damn cold in the winter. Lots of snow too I bet. Weather's a lot warmer down here in the valley, more like the hill country back home. He pulled his horses to a stop in front of the Camp Verde livery stable and dismounted. He arranged food, water, and a stall for his horses.
"Know a place I can stay for a night or two?" Rafe asked the stable hand.
"Depends on how fancy you wanta get Mister. The hotel is a fine place from what I've heard. There's a couple boarding houses or if you're not picky you can sleep in our loft." The man smiled and added, "Course there'll be an extra charge for the use of our loft. Four bits will cover it."
Rafe returned his smile. "Reckon if the stable's good enough for Bowie and Buddy, ought to be good enough for me." He handed the man the money for the horses and his 'bed'. "Now if there's no charge can you tell me where I can get a good meal?"
"Café down yonder serves a good supper."
Rafe finished his supper and went next door to the saloon for his first drink of whiskey in over two months. I sure do deserve this, he thought as he drank. Reckon I better stay put for a while and rest Bowie and Buddy. Won't do any harm to rest me either.
I left home in late May and now it's October, he continued thinking. Never thought I'd be on the trail for that long; or cover as much ground as I have. I'm not a coward. Could have stayed put at home but I'd be always shootin someone or gettin shot at. My family would have gotten involved in the fightin and I still wouldn't have Juanita. Could have stayed in Fort Stockton but it seems just plumb loco to have to fight over some stupid spoiled son of a rich rancher.
Rafe got a second whiskey. Better make this the last one tonight or I'll start feelin sorry for myself. He looked down the bar and saw an older man leaning against it with a bandage on his leg that ran from his knee down to his ankle. The big man had a beer in front of him and two crutches leaning next to him.
"How you gonna work the roundup Everett?" The bartender asked as he gave the man a fresh beer.
"Don't rightly know," Everett answered. "Molly and Emma can do some of the work but I need a good wrangler to help out." He took a small drink of his beer. "But it's so late in the season most all the cowboys have already signed on to a ranch. There's nobody to hire."
Rafe thought as the men continued to talk. Reckon I could winter here and head out come spring, he told himself. Workin a roundup along with my stake should get me through until spring. Rafe walked down the bar toward the older man.
