Sorry Springs Texas

By WC Hargis

Sorry Springs Texas is the next great novel by WC Hargis. Set in the time of this country’s history when the Civil War has ended, but the open wound it left was still weeping blood.
Jess Owens was a man who faced problems head on and would not back up. He didn’t participate in the contest between the states, and was relieved when it was finally over for all he had on his mind was to build up his ranch and protect his family from maurading Indians.
Jess had been a buffalo hunter, but turned the big fifty caliber gun toward a different foe when his ranch was taken over and his wife kidnapped.
The law in Sorry Springs had to be backed up with a colt 44, and Jess felt it was the only way to extend retribution to the men who had trampled on his life, as he let the founders pin a badge on his chest.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WC Hargis
• Release date: Aug 2, 2011
• ISBN: 9781452446066

WC Hargis

WC Hargis is currently living in Clealake California where he spends his days working in his garden and researching his next book. After a career as an iron worker in St Louis Missouri,He built a welding business and service company to support the drilling rigs in the steam fields at the geysers in Northern California

Book preview

Prologue

Pablo snuggled down into the heavy quilt pulling it over his head. The safe comfortable shroud gave the fifteen year old boy an easy feeling as he let go of his thoughts before drifting off to sleep, only to be jerked awake in a few minutes to lay there wondering what had disturbed his sleep. His two younger sisters and his baby brother were sleeping undisturbed.

Pablo was still lavishing in the good feelings from his mothers praise for bringing home the gold coin that he had earned from the drunken sailor from one of the big ships that had sailed into the harbor yesterday as Pablo was watching from the waters edge, dreaming about sailing across the ocean on one of those majestic ships.

Pablo lived in a little mud brick hovel with his mother and three other siblings. Pablo did everything he could to earn money to help his mother buy food. The sailor had filled his head with the prospect of riches, if he chose to sail on the big ship when it left on the next voyage. Pablo was planning to do just that. He knew his mother would be sad, but he had to take advantage of this chance for adventure and wealth. He left the house quietly after taking a last look at his sleeping family with plans to somehow return with riches, then hurried down to the waters edge to catch a ride out to the ship with one of the small boats beached along the shore line.

The sailors were high up in the rigging unfurling the sails as the wind snapped the canvas making it look quite dangerous to Pablo. They had just cleared the harbor entrance and the ship was plowing through foam crested waves with the wind whistling through the rigging. The sailors were calling out to each other, high in the rigging of this tall ship, but Pablo could hardly hear them from his position on the deck, holding tension on the rope that one of the sailors put in his hand telling him not to move. The rope he was holding ran through a pulley, straight up the main mast until it disappeared among the sails. The sailor told Pablo they were sailing to the new world where riches beyond his wildest dreams could be found.

The next few days flew by with Pablo learning many new things about the ship and the job he would be expected to do on this voyage. The animals in the hold of the ship had to be cared for which was one of Pablo’s jobs. There were a number of horses and mules that demanded much of his time. But he was glad for the job as it gave him a sense of his personal value.

The days and weeks blended together as the ship plowed through the seemingly endless expanse of the Atlantic Ocean. But one day a voice came from high up in the crows nest; ‘Land ahoy, Land ahoy!" Pablo ran to the railing to look at the land mass on the horizon as did everyone on deck, each one having his own thoughts as to what might lay ahead.

The big Spanish Galleon wallowed at anchor in the huge inlet where it had been blown off course by the hurricane. The sails had been shredded to ribbons by cannon fire from the Portuguese ship bent on piracy before they were separated in the storm and the pirate’s losing their prey.

The crew had mutinied and killed all the officers on the Spanish galleon during the storm and now they were all drunk and sleeping as the pirates closed in again unseen. The small contingents of drunken sailors left on deck to protect it also were sleeping at their post, with only one guard awake. He was tired and leaned against the capstan closing his eyes for just a moment, but that was all the pirates needed as they scurried aboard. The guard never heard a sound but felt the razor sharp edge of the knife as it sliced into his throat.

Pablo didn’t know he was sailing on a pirate ship until they came along side the galleon taking possession of the cargo, which was a fortune in gold bullion being transferred from Columbia to Spain. He was caught up in this strange act of piracy with no other avenue left to him but to continue on in this terrifying adventure.

The land slide sealed the mouth of the cave and Pablo was at last safe from the rain of arrows and could catch his breath. He took the stub of a candle out of his pocket and struck a sulfur on the rock wall lighting it. Pablo wondered at their good fortune finding this cave when he thought all was lost. He could see the soldiers in their armor who had managed to make it into the cave before it collapsed, they seemed to relish the moment of reprieve from the horde of Indians, even though immanent death was upon them. They had somehow herded the pack animals into the cave, so the gold was safe for now.

Pablo sat down on the floor in an area away from the stream of water running through the cave, leaning back against the rock wall. He dripped some wax on a flat place in the rock securing the candle. Pablo could see candles being lit all along the length of the tunnel, an eerie glow of light gave him pause and a peaceful moment after the frantic dash through the canyon with the arrows raining down. His heart had finally stopped hammering and was back to normal. Pablo knew that his friend Juan Diaz didn’t make it into the cavern, because he saw him fall from his horse. Diaz was dead.

Pablo drifted off to sleep leaning against the rock wall of the tunnel with the noise of men trying to dig their way out through the massive landslide that blocked the entrance and would soon be the death to all trapped there.

Pablo awoke sometime later to the awful sound of the horses and mules’ being slaughtered to conserve what air was left in the tunnel. He thought of his mother, which made him sad because she would never find out what happened to him. Pablo took out his knife to scratch his name and the date into the rock wall above his head before settling back down to conserve his strength because the air was getting thin causing difficulty breathing. He thought about the last few weeks, being chased by the two Spanish war ships with the cannons blasting away the main sail. The shallow draft pirate ship being blown by a stiff wind up a river where the deep draft Spanish gun ships couldn’t follow. The frantic unloading of the gold and the horses from the ship when it grounded in the shallow river. The Spanish soldiers who gave chase through the desert soon joined the pirates in fleeing for their lives from the Indians.

The oxygen was slowly being depleted in the tunnel and the candle flame was burning so low that Pablo could hardly see the men back there.

After a short while the candle fizzled out and Pablo sat there in the dark taking air into his lungs that were now absent of oxygen that every pore in his body craved. Pablo’s last thoughts were of his mother before he passed out. Pablo Marino 1642

Sorry Springs Texas

Chapter 1

Jess Owens turned his head and spit a brown stream of tobacco juice in the dust beside the wagon, then wiping his mouth on the dirty sleeve of his buckskins he brought the jug of whisky up to his lips and took a swig. The restless mules stomped and pawed the ground as he sat there on the seat, his eyes content to look at the squat little mud brick buildings of this little Texas town dancing in the heat waves. The sun browned skin crinkled around his eyes as he squinted against the glare of the sun. Dressed in skins and sporting a full beard, anyone could tell he was a buffalo hunter by his stink if they passed him on the street.

He had followed the buffalo into Texas and now as he sat there on the edge of Main Street in this little town of Sorry Springs Texas, with buffalo hides piled up higher than his head stinking to high heaven.

This was to be the last load as he was dead set on changing his way of making a living.

He took a plug of tobacco out of his pocket and eyed it real good, turning it in his hand until he decided where to bite off a chew. He wallowed it around in his mouth until he found a comfortable place and juiced up, then he spit a brown stream into the dust as he considered how he was going to approach the trader this time to make sure he got a fair shake for his skins. He started the team down the middle of the dusty street clicking his tongue to spur the mules on. The wagon rumbled along with the top heavy load swaying back and forth, one of the wheels needed grease, it was starting to squeak. He thought he would tend to it after he sold the hides.

Jess rode his horse back down Main Street to the trader after cashing the draft for his hides at the bank. He figured they should have the wagon unloaded by now and he wanted nothing more than a bath. Then he was going to have a shave and a haircut before going out to the ranch.

Manual Rojas, the young Mexican skinner that Jess employed had finished unloading and driven the wagon over to the livery where they planned to stable the animals for the night. He was unhooking the harness from the mules as Jess rode into the barn handing the reins to the hostler. He took the fifty caliber sharps out of the boot. With Manual at his side, they strolled down the street toward the dry goods store, where he planned to buy a new shirt and pants to complement the bath he was going to take.

Manual was lounging in the tub of hot water savoring the feeling of the first hot bath he had ever taken. It cost a dollar so he intended to get his moneys worth.

Jess was trying on his new clothes. It sure felt good to be clean after spending so long out on the prairie, killing buffalo.

When he was dressed, he left the bath house strolling through the door into the barber shop. He leaned the rifle against the wall and took a seat while the barber finished with a customer in a fancy suit who Jess thought must be a banker dressed like that, but changed his mind when he saw the star pinned to his chest. The barber finished with the fancy dressed sheriff, and when he got out of the chair he nodded his head to Jess as he put his hat back on and walked out of the shop.

Jess hung his hat on a hook and settled back in the barber chair telling the barber to give him a shave and haircut.

How do you want that hair? said the barber, as he draped the cloth around Jess’s neck.

Get it up off my ears and make it look the best you can. Who is the lawman that just walked out of here?

That’s Howard Bennet, the new sheriff. Got his badge in the last election the town held. He is the new owner of the Silver Dollar Saloon. Has a ranch out of town a ways. Runs a lot of cattle from what I hear.

Jess paid the barber for the two baths, his shave and haircut. From the looks of all the hair on the floor around the barber chair he had earned his money. Jess put his hat back on saying. That’s a right fine job, thank you. I’m about ten pounds lighter.

Jess and Manual headed back down the boardwalk toward the stable when an hombre stumbled out on the boardwalk from a little Mexican saloon right in front of them. When the drunk could get control of his legs, he was nose to nose with Jess. His watery blood shot eyes tried to look away, but Jess grabbed a hand full of his shirt and pulled him up close saying, Clyde I left you to take care of my ranch while I was away. Here you are hanging around this saloon instead of doing your job.

Clyde looked down at his boots wishing he could crawl through the knot hole in the board walk, but skinny as he was, he knew he wouldn’t fit. He stumbled on his words, trying to come up with just the right excuse for what had happened, but in the end he just blurted out, I couldn’t stop them Jess. There was just too many of them. They took over the ranch and run me off. There wasn’t anything I could do.

What in the hell are you talking about Clyde? Who took over the ranch?

That’s what I’m trying to tell you boss, if you’re listening.

Chapter 2

Grey wolf was a fierce Cheyenne warrior who had scars from many battles with enemies of his people. He gave no quarter when confronted with a foe that was intent on challenging him in battle.

He took the cup of hot tea from his woman’s hand, giving her a warm smile for her thoughtfulness. She had gathered the roots and honey to make this hot drink for him on this cold morning. Now she sat down beside him on the bear skin, pulling the warm blanket up over her shoulders. She felt very grateful for all the things she had. She cured the buffalo hides and sewed them together; Grey wolf had constructed the lodge they dwelled in now in this secret Canyon. Her children were sleeping soundly on skins from the animals her man had killed for food and clothing. He was a good provider.

They also had many horses they could use to escape when the whites came to kill their children. She felt so warm and protected here in the lodge with her family, as the fog swirled around them.

Grey wolf took up the deer skin bag with his tools and finished spear points. He would make a knife today out of the hard obsidian rock given to him by the old grandfather who said it came from a far away place where the mountain breathes fire. He would meet at the counsel fires in two days, to dance a war dance around the fires with many people from the different tribes that dwelled in the canyon along the river. They would be making war on the whites soon, and he wanted to trade his spear points for some corn to feed his family while he was on the war path, and possibly one of the young prisoners from the Comancheros to help his woman with her work. He would do the spirit dance around the cook fire to make sure the trading at the council fires would be profitable.

His woman, Spring Blossom, would take the children and gather acorns today while Grey wolf flaked off the obsidian rock with a deer horn. He would shape the knife on the flat rock by the cook fire.

Grey wolf made knives and spear points that everyone wanted. He worked hard to make the tools being sure the spirits guided his hands. Spring Blossom had produced three fine children to bless his tepee.

Rain was nine winters, the pride and joy of her father. She was helpful to her mother, taking care of her two little brothers or helping Spring Blossom gather nuts and berries.

The baby awoke and crawled upon Grey wolf’s lap, wanting a drink out of his cup. Grey wolf laughed at his chubby little son. The spirits had watched over his family so he decided to do a dance to let them know of his happiness.

Grey wolf finished shaping the blade of the new knife with the deer horn, the black obsidian rock chips were scattered around his feet and he knew that some would suffice as points for the arrows he hunted with. He took a strip of rawhide, wrapping it tightly around the handle in half hitches that were crowded close together to form the handle. When he was finished he soaked the leather in water before laying it in the sun to shrink. Grey wolf was well satisfied with his handiwork.

His wife and children arrived back with a basket full of acorns, along with a rabbit they had found in one of the many snares they had set in the tall grass in the meadow. It was a fat rabbit and would be enough to feed the whole family tonight. Grey wolf was grateful to the gods. He would offer his gratitude in a dance when the tribes met.

Spring Blossom skinned the rabbit and soon had it roasting over the fire while she fried Indian bread in the big iron skillet with bear grease. She would scrape the rabbit skin tomorrow and cure it in the sun.

Grey wolf’s tepee was one among five that were laid out in a ragged circle in a clearing. There was a fire in front of each dwelling as the inhabitants cooked the evening meal. Each family looked out for their neighbors, sounding an alarm if there was a raid on the tiny Indian village. The most danger the Indians had was from the white men. The different tribes would be moving south to their winter quarters soon, and Grey wolf would take his family on this long march across the Llano Estacada dropping down off the Mesa to the winter camp near Big Springs.

Smoky drifted back into Texas after the surrender a broken man, his only possessions were the worn out, patched together, confederate uniform. They cut his leg off after he caught a minnie ball just below the knee, at Cold Harbor in Virginia. He lay there in the hospital for a week, in terrible pain, until gang green set in, so the surgeon whacked it off. He now stumped around on a wooden leg that he had whittled out of a tree limb.

Smoky worked for Mr. Bennet in the silver dollar saloon gathering up glasses and empting spittoons. He moved around in the saloon as if invisible. He set the tray down on the judges table and cleaned off the remains after the last trial when the man was carted off to jail by a deputy. Judge Cole had been elected about the same time as the sheriff. Smokey suspected they were in cahoots, for they had control of the town, and the judge held court in the saloon.

Howard Bennet was seated at the table and Smoky could see the warrant for Jess Owens that Bennet slid across the table for the judge to sign. Smoky knew they were both a couple of crooked snakes, but he just kept his mouth shut and nobody ever paid any attention to him, but he knew plenty, and by golly he thought to himself, if anybody gave him trouble, he would make them pay.

Chapter 3

From his vantage point in a grove of cottonwoods along the river bank, Jess had a good view of his ranch house but couldn’t see anyone moving around, though there were several saddled horses tied up to the corral fence by the barn. He had ridden out to the ranch from town to see what had happened after talking to Clyde, and now they were trying to figure out how they were going to approach this situation.

Clyde had escaped from his bonds in the middle of the night, walking all the next day to make it into town to get help from the sheriff, but instead he was locked up in jail and beaten by the deputies. It was understandable that he didn’t know what to do after they turned him loose with a warning to leave town and not return to the ranch. He had hung around town dodging the law waiting for Jess to come back. He had almost lost his life from that bunch of gun slingers, but he didn’t know what happened to Jess’s wife and son after they were taken away from the cabin. Also Clyde told Jess that the sheriff had a warrant for his arrest for rustling cattle.

Jess thought that if the new sheriff had known what he looked like he would have arrested him in the barber shop.

Jess was brought back from his reverie to the present situation as he saw a man walk out of the house and mount one of the horses then head in their direction. Jess figured the rider was heading into town and would have to ride close to where they were at now. He would set up an ambush, cautioning Manual and Clyde not to kill him because