For Love of the Land: Douglas, Arizona vs. The Deadly Mexican Border

By M.J. Hill

Embroiled in a fight with Mexican Illegals, the residents of Douglas, Arizona, a small border town struggle to keep their ranches and possessions safe with tragic indifference.

The United States Border Patrol have failed, Homeland Security is not providing the necessary protection for this community only 28 miles from the border, forcing both sides of the fence into Battle.

Colton Kurt, a solitary rancher tries to make sense of all the changes affecting himself, the Mexican Illegals and his ranching community. Unexpectedly a brave woman steps up to befriend and support him in protecting his ranch.

Alice Walker, a lonely woman. Living a serene, tranquil life. Surprises herself by getting involved in this battle. Forming a strong bond of hope with Colt, willing to give her heart to one special man.

In an obscure village in Mexico. Carlos, a young man is willing to take a chance by carrying drugs across the United States Border for “The Drug Cartel”. He has already been forced to kill, he no longer has a conscience. Cold, fearless, and greedy, he has become a Killing Machine. He wants freedom across the Border at whatever the cost.

The residents of Douglas, Arizona have a name for this Mexican Border Crossing, it's called HELL'S GATE USA.......

• Language: English
• Publisher: M.J. Hill
• Release date: Sep 6, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310088957

M.J. Hill

Born and raised in Oklahoma until 2006 when I moved to Austin,Texas. Lifetime lover of books, reading and writing short stories and poems. Two published poems in 1980 John Campbell 'OUR WORLDS BEST LOVED POEMS. I just recently completed my first novel 'FOR LOVE OF THE LAND' Kindle ebook at Amazon..a fiction based on a true story.Facilitator of The Writers Loft a group of actors and writers in Austin,Texas. Production Manager for a 2014 play Columbine's Cakewalk at Hyde Park Theater, and formerly Production Manager for a 48 hour film production for a Sundance competition. I just completed a course at St Edward University in Screenwriting. Formerly completed private character development classes with a local writing coach. I am a member of a local meditation drumming group. A former bead and wire jewelry designer(Hope Jewelry Designs). Adventurer,traveler, lifelong student, lover of animals, nature and art.Experienced the Amazon Jungle in Colombia, explored every inch of land and water of Costa Rica, and had the opportunity to work up close with two Asian Elephants. I am crossing off my bucket list one thing at a time...living and loving it here in Austin, Texas.

Book preview

Chapter 38 – In Mexico

Chapter 39 – In Douglas, Arizona

Chapter 40 – In Mexico

Chapter 41 – In Douglas, Arizona

Chapter 42 – In Mexico

Chapter 43 – In Douglas, Arizona

Chapter 44 – In Mexico

Chapter 45 – In Douglas, Arizona

Chapter 46 – In Mexico

Chapter 47 – In Douglas, Arizona

Chapter 48 – In Mexico

Chapter 49 – In Douglas, Arizona

Chapter 50 – In Mexico

Chapter 51 – In Douglas, Arizona

Chapter 52 – In Mexico

Chapter 53 – In Douglas, Arizona

About the Author

Chapter 1:

Douglas, Arizona vs. United States Border Crossing Illegals

Now that the Mexicans were coming across the border using ranch lands to cross, leaving their dead, sick, castoff junk in the weeds. You never knew what you might come across. Among the tall weeds, ponds, trees and barns, it made a great hiding place.

Pulling his well-worn brown stained hat off. Wiping the sweat from his wrinkled brow with his red cloth handkerchief. As he rode along the fence line, the morning sun was just rising above the mountain tops, kissing the sky with colors of soft pink, green and blues. It has been a long time since this job was even necessary. The Bar K was a working ranch, 200 acres with herds of cattle, horses, bunkhouse the Whole Nine Yards at one time. Now the only critters occupying this land were his riding horse Buck, a hound dog named Red and a few laying hens.

Standing in the stirrups shifting his weight in the saddle gave some relief to his back and legs.

This riding the fence line was a job ranch hands handled, fixing leaning poles and repairing broken fence. Rounding up and bringing back the strays that somehow seemed to find any break in the fence.

Dismounting his buckskin, Colt adjusted his glasses and squinted into the sun. His Aviator glasses sliding down his nose from sweat, it was midday, and the sun was showing no mercy on anything. He stood quietly as he observed his shadow on the hot dry ground. Damn, it wasn't a distortion, a caricature of what he was becoming. Old bowlegged, shrunk a few inches. His Ropers have long been in the back of the closet for years now. Doctor's orders trading boots for new balance sneakers. It’s hell getting old, Colt said out loud, as Buck turned to look at him, letting out a whinny as if he understood.

A white tailed rabbit jumped a few yards from him, bringing him back to reality. He mounted old Buck again and proceeded down the fence line. Catching a glimpse of smoke in the distance, he rode Buck hard to locate the source, it was bad news if a grass fire got loose, he being alone on the ranch.

After some time he located a recent campfire, he could tell there had been food cooked on a small fire. Wrappers, plastic spoons, and a wad of dirty clothes wrapped up in a bundle. Taking a stick to stir through the clothes, he could tell, from the empty gallon milk jugs, it meant they had stopped to eat, rest and possibly take a Whore's Bath before moving on.

He had learned a long time ago not to hang his laundry outside any more. Because in the night, they were stolen by illegals. So now chickens were stolen and whatever else that wasn't nailed down disappeared in the dark.

He could tell his old dog Red was nervous at night, but quit barking. He figured the poor thing would have barked himself to death, with all the activity that went on at night.

The U.S. Border Patrol was hammered by the wave of Illegals crossing illegally 24/7. It wasn't unusual for a rancher to run across a mummified body or several in the tall grass. Blacken from the blazing Arizona sun. Illegals probably led into the desert by hired Coyotes, then dumped to fend for themselves. Lost and dehydrated, it’s a long, painful death.

Colt usually knew to call it a day when Red started getting jumpy; that was feeding time. Colt's armpits were soaked; he waved his arms to fan some coolness to the area as he felt the stain spreading. Yeah old boy, I guess it's time for some grub, he said affectionately to the dog, patting his own stomach. Come on buddy, we're heading home.

Hell, it was Nelly Bar the Door, with all the Mexicans coming across the border all night long. You would think they would want to stay at home with their own people who spoke their language, Colt thought to himself. He could count on one hand how many times he had hired a Mexican ranch hand. Though he had always felt proud of himself for not looking down on anyone.

Colton Kurt was a good, gentle man with good morals. Maybe that is why he never married. Maybe a little too righteous, some of the town ladies might surmise. The truth was, he never found a woman he really loved and wanted to marry. Hell, he was still a good catch at 59 years of age. Dark shiny hair, brown eyes, tan, straight white teeth. At 6'3," he wasn't a bad catch for any woman's eye. He represented a strapping figure of a man.

Colt was born and raised in Douglas, Arizona, on this Ranch all his life. His father was a cattle rancher, and that's all he ever wanted to be. When he finished college and served in the Army, he hurried back to the ranch as soon as possible. He never felt his life was complete not working a large cattle and horse ranch. He never changed his mind.

Chapter 2 - In Mexico

Carlos was sitting on a curb stubbing out his cigarette when Manuel, who he called Manny, drove up, parking his fancy convertible.

Hey man, what are you doing sitting around like an old nun? I've been making money all day to help pay for my Bling-Bling addiction, he smiled his gold tooth sparkling in the Sunlight.

Carlos looked up at him as he lit up another cigarette. No man I need some connections, or something. I'm tired of living with my mother, cousins, sister and all her kids, no privacy, you know what I mean?

Manny leaned in closer so only Carlos could hear. Speaking in a low tone of voice. I told you before, stick with me. I know lots of people who can hook you up, maybe not all legal or on the up and up, but hell its great money. Look at me, I wear only the best, drive only the best and the bitches. I have many, only the best. He laughed to himself with that last comment.

I know, I know, but if I get into trouble again Carlos said, I go to prison, and I don't want to be someone's dance partner, you get me, he said, rolling his dark black eyes upward. Let me think about it. Drugs have never been my bag, you know that!

Damn who cares! Manny responded. "Who the hell cares if they sniff it, shoot it up, give it away, you're making money, and you're only the delivery boy. Look at it that way, we're getting ready to deal a big load of cocaine into the USAVAY, Carlos knew he meant the U.S.A.

You mean me crossing the border into the States?

Yes, we have a large distributor, a Big Boss with lots of pull who wants to spread the joy.

"Wow, Carlos thought that might be a way of making money and living in the States. No more listening to babies crying all night, stretching every bit nine ways to hell. Sharing a bed on the floor with his nephews, never bringing a date, or friend home.

Well man, I can't go into the details, but I'm just sharing this with you in case you grow some balls and want to get into the deal, okay that's all. Manny sat eye balling Carlos for a moment before driving off.

Hey man let me know soon, okay? He shouted after Manny drives away.

Carlos had a troubled past, at only 21 years old, he had been arrested several times. The judge only released him after a short jail term because of his mother and siblings. No father in the home for years, Carlos tried to find work at an early age and became the man of the family at age 12, way too young.

There always seemed to be a steady stream of family members moving in and out, pallets on the floor for sleeping wasn't unusual. His mother always seemed to be able to stretch out a few more meals, Carlos didn't know how?

He stared down the street, wondering to himself what to do? Carlos decided to walk down to visit with his only friend Obie-One Knobie. When he got there Obie was sitting outside in a busted down old lawn chair.

Hey, what's hap-pen-in’?

Obie looked up from cleaning his dirty fingernails with his pocket knife.

Nothing man, just keeping it cool. Carlos leaned down closer.

I just got a visit from the drug dealer, Manny. He might have a job or two for me. Obie licked his knife blade before putting it back into his pants pocket. What kind of job?

Well, you know, the kind of work he does, seems there is a big job going down."

Obie's eyes got enormous, no man, you don't want any part of that man! Carlos stared at Obie for a few seconds.

I have to find work.

Yeah man, but you can find something else. It is too damn dangerous to take that chance. Crossing the Border is bad enough, but with drugs from the Cartel, all the way bad!

Carlos knew OB was truthful, but he wanted a chance. Hey OB, Oscar a neighbor joined the group, anything going down? Obie and Carlos passed a quick glance between them.

No, just shooting the shit. He knew his trusted friend Obie wouldn't tell anyone of their recent conversation.

Obie and Carlos had the same kind of lifestyle, no education, and couldn't hold down a job, plenty of running around with the wrong crowd, and a strong desire for change. Obie's real name is Miguel, having had a leg amputated after riding with a crazy drunk friend on a motorcycle. His friends started calling him Obie-One-Knobie. He accepted it as a nickname of endearment. His one favorite movie had been Star Wars.

Chapter 3 – In Douglas, Arizona

Colt was just too tired tonight to make it to the Greasy Spoon for dinner. Eating pork and beans from a can, on the front porch steps, he watched the flashing twinkle of the stars in the dark sky. A lone wolf was making itself heard out in the hidden field somewhere.

Suddenly Colt listened more intently, thinking there was someone or something? The sound was closer to the house. A chicken thief maybe? Grabbing his flashlight he hurried to the hen house to look around. He heard Buck kicking the floor in his stall. Colt approached, but found nothing. Hmm, might just be spooked by the wolf calls, he thought. The Wolves were carrying on alright; there was plenty of activity out in the fields.

News going down in town was that the Sheriff, along with the Customs Service would be patrolling the borders, even more now that they found a man shot to death in his truck on his way back to his ranch on Slick Road.

It gets pretty scary out here alone, Colt thought. But times have changed, hired help is too expensive. Colt has always refused to carry a weapon when checking the fence line, or checking out strange noises at night. Sheriff Travis Martin has advised him while it wouldn't hurt to have a gun, it would be his constitutional right.

Nope, I never want to use another weapon again after Vietnam. I got my damn fill of killing, and seeing people being killed in my lifetime. A baseball bat would be my weapon of choice, no firearms.

The wind began to whip up and cool off as it does particular times in the evenings, usually it's good sleeping weather. If you can keep your windows open, and smell the fresh air blowing past. But that is not an option anymore. Colt sat a little longer on the steps, enjoying the refreshing breeze. Red lay asleep next to him after getting his old ragged ears scratched as only Colt knew how to do.

How time does fly, it seemed like only yesterday, Colton Senior and Mom were here, we were all together working this ranch. I went to college that just flew, then to the army for 4 years. Yes, I remember when I was just 14 years old, old enough to drive a tractor, then 16 getting my driver's license. Now an old Buzzard all alone, no children, no wife and too damn old to think about it now. Yeah, where did it all go so damn quick.

Come on, Red, let's hit the hay, we have a busy day tomorrow. Let Buck stay here and we'll use the four wheeler, it's faster and more comfortable on the old buttock. He patted his behind and looked down at the old dog, getting up following him into the house.

Stretching out in bed his thoughts seem to drift into the past, something he doesn't usually do. Shadows played shapes along the walls, and he could hear Red breathing in his dog bed. His stomach growled, he wished now he had gone into town and gotten a full meal. He laughed to himself thinking those beans are likely going to backfire on me. I am sure Old Red will love the smell and sound effects. Turning on his side still smiling and closed his eyes.

Pouring bacon grease into old Red's dog food to flavor it up a bit. The old dog didn't waste any time wolfing it down. Colt grabbed his sweat stained hat and pulled it down over his forehead. Come on old-boy, or you'll be left behind.

He noticed chicken feathers scattered on the ground backing the four wheeler out of the barn. Probably already knew without looking there were a few chickens missing. Red sniffed at a few feathers then looked out towards the field. Colt rolled his sleeves up and put the old dog in front of him and tore out towards the North Range.

Chapter 4 - In Mexico

Manny looked down through his sunglasses at the expensive desk at where the Big Boss was seated. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, my friend? asked the boss with a smirk. His flunkies standing next to the wall gave a sycophantic little ripple of amusement.

I have told you before, unless you have something important you do not come here, si!

The Big Boss removed his expensive Cuban from his mouth to take another sip of vodka, eye balling Manny with annoyance.

Again, my friend, what brings you to this neck of the woods? A couple of his men took a step closer towards Manny, at hearing this question.

Sir, I have someone who might be interested in doing the ‘Big Job’ for you, the one carrying the hefty load across the border. He felt extremely nervous and it showed with his shaking hands and batting eyes.

What makes you think we need another carrier, and you better not be shooting off your mouth to everyone.

Nooooo. Manny said, voice shaking. No. Just looking out for the business.

You damn well better be. You know what happens to people who like to talk too damn much, now don’t you my friend? Manny did not make eye contact. He knew what happened to those people. He turned and walked out, blotting his brow. Manny had projected an outcome of kudos and increased respect for recruiting Carlos for the job. He had even dared mark this day as such in his planner. Later he felt crazier than a shit house mouse for going to the boss with his recommendation and wished he hadn't said a thing.

He was aware that he was hired because of his connections. He had belonged to one of the roughest gangs in Mexico, his attitude, and maybe all the begging and toadying had helped a bit as well. Like most young people from other than the privileged class in Mexico, Manny was presented with a future of menial employment, sweatshops, outdoor labor, and so forth. From the hopelessly corrupted government, there was no help. Manny enjoyed driving a fabulous car, wearing flashy cologne, and having the split-tails fawn on him.

Carlos’ older sister Maria sewed the sleeve on what he considered his dress shirt. That was the shirt with all the buttons, and fewer perspiration stains. His girlfriend had invited him to come to her house for supper. Gina's house was always clean and-unlike his own home, Gina had no kids running around. It had no chickens milling about the doors, and living spaces.

Carlos had been quite serious about Gina for a long time, and she seemed to feel the same way about him. But her father didn’t see a future for the two of them; he tried continuously to keep them apart as much as possible.

Gina’s house was whitewashed a stain of dried grass circled around the bottom. She stood in the door smiling exposing her pretty white teeth. Her beautiful long curly black hair pulled back in a low bun. He was just about to hurry up and put a kiss on her lips, when her father appeared at the door, so instead he followed Gina inside.

The old man landed himself into his broken down oily backed chair that he hurried to. Gina and Carlos exchanged nods to each other then he followed her into the kitchen. Gina smelled so fresh, like soap and shampoo, she was one of the prettiest girls in town, and he knew he was lucky he had caught her eye.

Hurry up Gina, I am hungry, do your talking later shouted her father. Gina piled up food on a plate along with a glass of water and put it on a tray in front of her father's chair. Passing Carlos she whispered we will eat in here pointing to a small table with two chairs outside the kitchen door.

The food was delicious, Gina was some cook. She learned to cook from her mother before she passed away 4 years ago. That was probably why her father didn’t think anyone was good enough for Gina, plus he would starve without her.

I think I have a job coming up, I can’t tell you much about it now, but it’s big.

Gina’s eyes grew wide, "What type of job, and please tell me is it legal? You know you have been in trouble one time too many times already, next time you go to jail my father will never allow us to be together.

It will be fine, lots of money and maybe a chance of us getting married and going across the border, what do you think about that? Gina just shook her head and made a gesture of the cross without any further response.

Chapter 5 – In Douglas, Arizona

Colt was deep in the field when he heard another vehicle approaching. Wild Bill, his old friend, was waving and calling his name. Bill drew close, pushing open his truck door and leaned out. Damn is it hot enough?

Well, I am not freezing to death or anything, what brings you out here in this heat?

I was headed towards town, no one answered your door, I figured you were out here somewhere. Bill steps out of the truck, wipes his head rearranging the sparse hair. Colt noticed that he had a gun in a holster on his hip.

Bill you crazy bastard, what are you doing with a gun? You'll end up blowing your foot off.

Hey man, I am packing iron until the Department of Immigration, ICE, or someone, gets their asses here to do something. Otherwise, it’s gonna be 'Make My Day' time at the old ranch! Colt, looked at Wild Bill. Crazy as he was both drunk and sober, he wasn’t going to back down and Colt knew that.

Did you hear all that shit that’s been going on, those damn Mexicans are robbing people blind, and that man who got killed? It's got everyone scared.

Everyone is locking their doors now, that's damn straight. It was bad enough when we had that oil drilling bastard busting up our land, breaking down fences. Now, it's the damn Mexicans and the drug cartels. Colton nodded, looked off glumly at his fences.

Yeah, it’s one hell of a problem alright as he pointed a toothpick from his mouth towards Bill. I've never stopped losing chickens. I Can't even put my undies on the clothesline to dry that they turn up missing."

Bill snorted in agreement. That's an understatement, he punned.

Hey Bill I have to check the North Range before I call it a day. I’ll see you at the Diner later.

You got it, see ya later! Bill turned to get into his truck.

Red’s eyes nearly fell out of his head waiting for Colt to scrape the last spoonful of dog food from the can. Carefully placing the empty can out of Red’s reach, last time he didn’t Red had it stuck on his nose when he got home. Damn dog gets himself into some dillies sometimes, he thought to himself grinning at Red. Silly old blood hound. Leaning out his truck window, Colt tipped his hat at the town’s folks driving down the long street to Helen’s Diner.

He noticed Wild Bill’s truck, Harold Mulgrove and Trey Jones had beat him there as usual. Pulling off his hat to catch a fresh breeze from the AC he walked toward the counter where the regulars had saved him a spot.

How’s it hanging?

Well, I think it’ hanging fine last time I checked. Rolling her eyes, Alice a tall redhead threw her wet towel over her shoulder. She always waited on this rowdy crowd. Now leaned over the counter.

Your regular tonight Colt?

Yeah.

More coffee over here too, said Trey."

Okay, big tipper don’t get your panties in a wad! Alice always knew just how to push their buttons, she didn't put up with any crap.

No, actually I would rather have something light, answered Colt, with fruit or something.

Oh, it will be sliced cucumber sandwiches, and those tiny lady fingers next offered Trey. The whole group laughed at that.

Colt; sat listening to the latest news around town, which was usually the same old, same old. His cottage cheese with pears and veggie soup tasted splendid after a hot day riding fences, it was just enough this particular evening.

Say Colt, did you find your chickens missing again, asked one of his neighbors?"

I guess those damn Mexicans think they have to eat high on the hog. Remarked Bill. Holding up his pinky finger in jest.

Colt wiped his mouth and mustache before speaking. Down to one, he said, furrowing his brow. Then that one took legs and disappeared yesterday.

Don’t that old dog of yours bark, when someone is around your property?

Yeah, but something is going on 24/7, I don’t expect the old dog to bark himself to death.

Colt I am telling you again, you need a gun, said Wild Bill. I keep a gun and a rifle with me when I am at home or out on those lonely roads by myself. Shit, no need of taking chances with damn drug crazed, Mexicans out there.

Well, you know they aren’t all nuts like you, Alice spoke up from behind the counter.

Everyone laughed, even Wild Bill, who turned and shouted in her direction. Now Home Skillet everybody's not as brave as you.

Get out of here you old fool, she told him.

The group stood outside leaning on their trucks, shooting the

Reviews for For Love of the Land

[CurtStowell · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This was a fantastic book, a page turner. It will make you angry at the people of Mexico, but you will also feel sorry for them. It's also a bit frightening because what happens in the book could easily happen to America. M.J. Hill is a top author of the 21st century.