“I’m so sorry for your loss, my darling,” Sally said softly. “It wasn’t your fault someone shot him. Smitty was doing what he wanted to do, and that was helping you on this ranch. Please try not to be so sad. Come let my pour you another drink and let’s go sit outside in my garden, then I’ll make you a nice supper.”
Jeff had trouble getting to sleep that night. He kept reliving battles against the Confederates he’d fought with Smitty and Bo, battle after battle after battle. Sometime after, he’d heard the clock in the hallway strike 3:00 a.m. Jeff was finally able to drop off to sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Hobie Gilbert rode by and offered his sympathy regarding Smitty’s untimely passing. “Jeff, I just wished I’d had a foreman with the dedication to me that Smitty had for you.”
“Yeah, I don’t figure to find me a replacement for that man anyway soon,” Jeff replied.
“Say, Jeff, would you be interested in buying my ranch? I might wanna sell out if I decide to buy me a half interest in my friend’s silver mine.”
“A silver mine? Around here?”
“Well, it’s not very far from here, maybe an hour or so ride from here,” he said.
“You see any silver from it?”
“Yeah, he’s showed me some ore, and the county assayer says it’s mighty rich stuff too. But it ain’t from around here, the assayer says he’s sure of that.”
“Where’s it located, Hobie?”
“My friend wouldn’t tell me, he’d only say that it wadn’t too far away.”
“Well, if you really decide to sell, Hobie, give me the first chance to buy it.”
“I will, Jeff. Say, some Saturday, when I’m going to Jasper, how about I come by and we’ll ride in together and have a few beers together?”
“Yes, I usually need to buy some things on that day, stop by, and I’ll ride in with you.”
Jeff needed a ramrod to help look after his ranch and supervise his cowboys. Ed White was a good loyal friend, and he’d become a fair hand at cowboying, but Ed could never be forceful enough to become a straw boss. Jeff promoted an older cowhand named Mack who’d been for him since Jeff had brought his first cows west from Fort Davis in ’69. Mack had hit the ground running and took over running the ranch for his boss.
Monday, it rained all day, the cowboys stayed close to the ranch. Tuesday a soldier came with a purchase order for seventy-five head of cattle delivered by Friday. Jeff sent Mack and five drovers to round up that many steers and deliver them to Fort Davis. Jeff cautioned Mack and the others to remember to watch each other’s back going and coming. And he wanted them back to the ranch no later than Friday. Once again Ed was told to stay close to the ranch.
“Why don’t you never send me on them trips, Jeff? I know how to punch cattle.”
“Because I like to look at your rosy cheeks, Ed, that’s why.”
“Ah, go on, Jeff, you’re hoorahin’ me.”
Mack and his helpers were back Friday noon, and Mack turned over $1,500 to his boss.
Fall’s roundup produced another herd gain. The JN Brand’s mother cows dropped a hundred calves that needed to be branded. Thirty-nine needed to be castrated, and sixty-one were heifers who would become mother cows themselves when they became old enough to be introduced to the bulls.
The rest of the year passed quickly. Thanksgiving came and then Christmas. Cookie fed everyone full of great food. All Jeff’s employees received two weeks’ extra pay as their Christmas present, and then the first day of the January rolled around. Jeff would be an old man of thirty on his birthday.
Jeff’s ranch house was impressive; it sat on top of the broad mesa and commanded a grand view that Jeff had carefully selected. Up here, he could look out and watch his cattle grazing about and admire his ranch and see company coming when they were a long way off. He and Sally loved to sit together in the swing on the front porch and watch the sunsets. Sally had especially loved that part.
Jeff had worked mighty hard building this ranch; he’d sweated in the summers and he’d froze in the winters. He’d built his ranch, the barn, bunkhouse, corrals, and outhouses. He’d hired Ed to come and work for him and Ed had made Jeff a good ranch hand. He and Ed had dug a well out back of the house. Jeff had left room for a woman’s garden too.
Now Jeff’s greatest treasure was Sally. She’d agreed to be his wife. She was the most wonderful person he’d ever known. He’d found her and married her and brought her here to live. Someday he and Sally planned to have children, many children, sons and daughters who’d give him grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Jeff wanted to live a long time, to grow old beside Sally, and enjoy their future children and grandchildren together.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“I understand Jeff Nelson’s got himself a new segundo. You know his name and can recognize him?”
“Yeah, his name’s Mack. I knew him in Fort Davis.”
“Bushwhack him as soon as you can set it up. I want Jeff to deliver his steers to the fort himself, then you can cripple him bad, but don’t you dare kill him or I’ll have your hide. That boy owes me. I want him out of this valley. I want his cows, I want his ranch, and I want his woman.”
“All right, Jorn, I’ll get on it, but once we take over Nelson’s operation, I want a bigger cut, you hear me?”
“Don’t threaten me, boy, don’t you ever threaten me, ya hear me!”
“Sure, Jorn, I understand. I’m not threatening you. I’d like a bigger cut if you’ll agree to it. Okay?”
Saturday rolled around, and thirty-old Jeff Nelson asked Sally if she wanted to go to town with him. “No,” she replied, she wanted to bake a cake and she had mending to do, and she promised Ed she’d sew a button on his good shirt. Jeff went to the barn to put together a team and wagon for his trip to town, and about the time he was ready to hook up the team. Hobie Gilbert from the Double Bar G rode into Jeff’s compound.
“Ready for that ride into town?”
“Yeah, pard! Jeff finished hitching up his wagon for the short ride into Jasper. “Let’s do it,” he replied. Hobie tied his horse behind Jeff’s wagon and they were off.
“Any news about the silver mine you and your friend were gonna get?”
“No, I haven’t talked to him lately. He ain’t come by my ranch and I ain’t seen him in town, but he’s got a mine, I’ve seen the silver. It’s lovely. Jeff, it’s truly lovely.”
“What’s your friend’s name, Hobie? Maybe I know him.”
“Name’s, Davis, Dan Davis, you know him, don’t you? He’s old man Henson’s son-in-law. You know what I wanna do, Jeff? After we have us a few snorts at the saloon, let me and you go find Dan Davis, and if he still wants to me to partner with him, I’ll sell you my ranch, lock, stock, and barrel.”
One hour after Jeff left for town, Mack came out of the bunkhouse and began walking toward the horse corral. He was gonna ride around the pastures and check on the cattle. As he reached the corral, a shot rang out. A heavy .44-40 slug hit Mack in the back headband of his Stetson hat and blew out the front part of his skull. Poor Mack was dead before his body hit the hard ground. Two cowboys ran out of the bunkhouse at the sound of the shot; they saw Mack lying by the corral.
As they ran toward him, they too fell dead from the assassin’s bullets. Ed White was next. He watched the two cowboys fall. He grabbed a carbine and ran out of the bunkhouse door and squatted down behind a water trough. A bullet plowed into the top board