The Hunt

By Andrew C. Watzek

When Adam “Mac” McCulough loses his wife, Abby, in 1876, he is left to bring up his four young daughters, Sara, Becky, Julie, and Angela. Mac, a rancher and the sheriff of nearby Elkhorn, calls on his longtime friend Ezra Hawks, a half–White Mountain Apache, to help him on his ranch and to raise his girls. Together, the men teach the daughters to shoot, hunt, fish, track, and survive in the wild.

Life rolls along for this unusual family, but an incident from Mac’s past comes back to haunt him. Before settling down with Abby, he worked as an Arizona Ranger and played a key role in the capture and conviction of a group of men who beat and raped a family in Prescott. The men, now released from jail, track down Mac and exact their revenge.

Sara, Becky, Julie, and Angela are determined not to let the men get away with the murder of their father. They strike out on their own to hunt down the killers, but their quest for vengeance may come with a high price.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Aug 24, 2011
• ISBN: 9781426972430

Andrew C. Watzek

Andy Watzek was born and raised in the Southwest and has been fascinated with its rich history and heroic tales for many years. He is married to Ronda, his wife of 44 years and has two daughters, Stephanie and Jennifer, who were raised just as the characters in the books. Andy started writing late in life finishing his first novel at age 56. Prior to that he spent his life working as a construction superintendent, and writing the occasional article for outdoor magazines. In the beginning there was no intention for additional books, but reader demand for more stories about the McCullough sisters spawned the now complete trilogy.

Book preview

The Hunt

Andrew C. Watzek

Edited by Michael McIrvin

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© Copyright 2011 Andrew C. Watzek.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

Printed in the United States of America.

ISBN: 978-1-4269-7241-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4269-7242-3 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4269-7243-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011913919

Trafford rev. 08/09/2011

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Contents

Chapter 1

A New Life Begins

Chapter 2

A Life Is Lost

Chapter 3

A New Beginning

Chapter 4

Getting Acquainted

Chapter 5

New Lessons

Chapter 6

Growing Up

Chapter 7

Trouble Starts

Chapter 8

The Meeting

Chapter 9

Tragedy Strikes

Chapter 10

Going Home

Chapter 11

The Hunt Begins

Chapter 12

Closing In

Chapter 13

The Kill

This book is dedicated to my father, Andrew A. Watzek, for the sacrifices he made to see that we were raised with the right values and work ethic. And also to my daughters, Stephanie and Jennifer, who took to heart all that they were taught about hunting, fishing, and life. They listened and learned from me, their grandfather, and the old men they hunted and camped with over the last twenty years.

Chapter 1

A New Life Begins

Adam Mac McCulough awaited the birth of his fourth child as he sat in front of the fireplace in his small ranch house. The wind blew coldly off the snow-packed rim down into the Elkhorn Valley below. It was late spring of 1872 in the Arizona Territory. Mac sat quietly staring at the flames, wondering if this child would be a son. He dearly loved his daughters—Sara, age seven; Julie, age five; and Becky, four—but there was just something about having a son to pass things on to.

Sara, the oldest girl, was in the bedroom with her mother and Emma, the wife of their neighbor, Amos Johnson. Emma had helped with the birth of all four children now. Sara was allowed to watch, and to help out as best she could, because she had been so curious about Abby’s pregnancy.

As Mac chewed on the stem of his pipe, he remembered the fear, the anticipation, and the excitement when his first daughter was born. He remembered the look on his wife’s face as she handed him Sara for the first time, but mostly he remembered the way he shook from his heels to his head as he held his daughter in his arms. Mac, like most men who had made their own way in hard country, was not scared of much, but holding his first baby girl had him, big as he was, trembling like a maiden. Although the anticipation got easier with the arrival of the next two, each of his girls was very special in her own way, and Mac could not imagine what he would do if he lost one of them. The thought sent a stabbing pain through his entire body, and he shuddered as if chilled.

Mac was troubled about Abby with this child. She seemed to have more trouble handling the everyday pains of being pregnant. Although the doc said there was nothing to worry about, Mac could sense something was wrong. Abby was never one to complain, but a husband can tell when things aren’t the way they should be. She had been quieter than usual, and her face often looked drawn, her expression one of quiet suffering. She would brighten when she caught him looking at her, but still, he knew.

Just after midnight, Sara came into the room where her father sat. His little girl was obviously tired, but there was a look of amazement on her tiny face. The birth of a new brother or sister was all she had been able to talk about for these last many months. The time is gettin’ close, Papa. Is there anything I can get you before I go back in to help?

No. I’m fine, Mac replied.

As Sara left the room, Mac thought about how his little girl seemed to be getting more like a young lady. She was only seven, but she was a great help to her mother, learning to cook and to do a lot of other things around the house, as well as tend to the animals. Sara had been most helpful taking care of her younger sisters of late, giving Abby the rest she seemed to need more with this pregnancy than with the others. Sara would start school in the fall, which gave Abby only about six months to get used to doing without Sara’s help. Julie and Becky were still too young to be anything but a worry, and Mac knew he was never one to rely on around the house. He was a rancher, which took a fair amount of his time, especially during some seasons of the year, like calving in the spring; but he was also the sheriff of nearby Elkhorn. The town really never needed a lot of tending, but Mac liked being close in case something did happen.

Then Mac heard the sounds of his wife in labor coming from the bedroom, her sighs turning to groans, and then to something more mournful he could not name but had heard before. It wouldn’t be long before he knew if he had a son. Mac may have gotten somewhat used to holding a helpless baby, but he had never gotten used to this part—hearing his wife in pain, and the waiting.

He consciously turned his thoughts elsewhere to ease the anticipation—bordering on fear—rising in his chest. His thoughts turned to his life before his family, before he met Abby and settled down. He still marveled at the fact that he was now a rancher and father after spending most of his life hunting men. Mac had been an Arizona Ranger, and he now remembered the last men he hunted, the manhunt that had caused him to quit the Rangers. He liked to think it had been Abby, her soft ways and her insistence that they start a family right away, but he knew otherwise in his heart.

Mac had been sent to hunt down four men accused of beating a man, George Davidson, nearly to death and raping his wife and fifteen-year-old daughter. Mac visited the home where this took place before he went after the men. The more he knew about the people involved, the place and the time and how these terrible things had happened, the more he would know about the men who did it. He was stunned by the amount of blood on the walls and the floor in the room where the mother and daughter had been assaulted. Although most of the blood had come from the father when he was beaten as he tried to stop the men, Mac’s heart had quailed at the thought that any of it belonged to the girl. He listened to people give their accounts of hearing screams but being too afraid for their own lives to help, and Mac knew, just as these bystanders did, that these men were ruthless and had no regard for human life. Hunting men who cared not one bit about killing anyone who tried to stop them meant that he—only one man against the four of them—could not give them any kind of chance.

The attack took place in Prescott, and the men had a two-day head start. Mac headed southeast, following their trail and reports that the men were headed for Tucson. Mac had a friend, Ezra Hawks, who helped him track men on occasion. Ezra was half white and half White Mountain Apache, and so, as was the case for most half-breeds Mac ever knew, Ezra wasn’t really popular amongst whites and spent most of his time alone. Ezra did winter with the Apaches because he was more welcome there, and he told Mac it made the winters easier to tolerate. But Mac knew he did not have to go looking for his friend anyway. Somehow, Ezra would show up whenever Mac needed him, and Mac knew it would not be any different this time. The odds of finding these men with such a head start were slim, and the odds of bringing them in if he did catch up to them were even longer. He could certainly use Ezra’s help this time.

The first night after Mac left Prescott, he camped in a small ravine below a rock bluff. Mac heard a noise coming from the bluff above him, and though it could be deer moving through the sagebrush, he hoped it was his friend coming to help once again. Mac had reached for the coffee pot as a tall figure, silhouetted in the moonlight, appeared just beyond the reach of the firelight.

Ezra grunted to make sure his friend knew he was not some stranger, and then approached the fire. The two men sat and drank coffee for a few minutes in silence, and then Mac relayed the horrors that had taken place in the victims’ home. Ezra stated what Mac already knew: these men would not be easy to take back alive.

They left before daylight to pick up as much time as they could. They agreed they would travel for eight or nine hours, sleep for a short time, and then hit the trail again. They would eat in the saddle and stop only to water the horses. They rode with their bedrolls around them through the night. Early the next day, the two men came to the town of New River, where they learned from the storekeeper that two more men had joined those they hunted. Mac remembered being even more grateful for Ezra’s help on this one at that point. The storekeeper also said Mac and Ezra were only one day behind their quarry. Unless the men were riding hard—and there was no indication they would—Mac knew they should be able to catch up to them within two days.

Late in the evening of the second day out from New River, Mac and Ezra rode to the top of a high ridge to glass the surrounding hillsides and canyons. They spotted the men camped in a box canyon near Pinto Creek, little more than a half mile away. Mac and Ezra decided to wait until morning before trying to take the men.

We should tie up the horses in that little bowl north of that canyon, Mac remembered Ezra saying.

What are you thinking?

The wind is blowin’ out of the west. If we tie up the horses in that bowl, they won’t get wind of them other horses and start raising a fuss.

Sounds like you’ve done this before.

You live with Apaches, you learn a few things.

Well, let’s get set up, Mac had said, glassing the men they were chasing one last time.

The two men tied the horses as they had discussed and moved up the canyon to find a good vantage point. After a half hour of walking as quietly as the terrain allowed, they finally positioned themselves high in the rocks above the camp. This would give them the advantage when the shooting started. Ezra motioned that he was going to make his way across the canyon to the other side of the men’s camp, which Mac thought a good idea. The men would be in their cross fire, making it easier to keep them from getting away.

When dawn broke, Mac watched the men beginning to stir. When it looked like all of the men were up and moving, Mac was ready to call out, to identify himself and tell them to give up. But before he could utter a sound, the horses tied up in the bowl started to neigh loudly, as though they were being skinned alive. Mac could not figure out what could have startled them, for the wind was fairly calm and had not changed direction. He and Ezra figured out from tracks later that a herd of javelina had wandered into that bowl and startled the horses. The ruckus alerted the men in the camp below. They started to scramble around, grabbing guns and ducking for cover. Mac called out to identify himself and ordered the men to surrender. The ensuing gunfire indicated they had other plans. Mac had tucked himself pretty tightly into some rocks and was almost completely out of sight. It would have taken a real lucky shot to hit him. Ezra fired down on them from the opposite ridge, and when the men tried to relocate so there wasn’t a gun at their backs, Mac and Ezra killed two of them and wounded a third. The remaining two men decided to surrender and take their chances with a judge.

The sounds in the other room were now louder than Mac remembered them being with the other girls. His thoughts turned to dark things briefly, possibilities too bleak to consider, and then he immediately returned to the box canyon with Ezra those many years ago.

Mac and Ezra returned the men to Prescott, dropping the dead at the undertaker’s and delivering the others to the jail. About the time the doc was sent for to tend the wounded man, Ezra slipped out of town as silently as he had arrived in Mac’s camp. Mac stayed to testify as to what took place in the apprehension of the men involved.

It was during the trial that Mac learned the details of what had taken place the day of the attack. The original four men he had been pursuing—Will Harkins, David Wade, Ed Burrows, and John Gates—were running from a recent robbery attempt in Utah. The men did not get the money, but two people were wounded in the escape. The men broke into the Davidsons’ home looking for more money, beating Mr. Davidson in an effort to find how much money and valuables he had hidden in the home. When they got what they could out of him, they turned to his wife. She could not give them any more than her husband had, so they decided they would take what he could not give them.

It was revealed in court that it was David Wade who knocked the woman to the floor and began to rip off her clothing. It was then that they heard crying from a nearby closet. There they found the Davidsons’ fifteen-year-old daughter. Will Harkins dragged the girl from the closet and began the same process with her. Mr. Davidson tried to get to his feet to protect his daughter, and Ed Burrows struck him across the top of his head with his pistol, knocking him unconscious. While the others were taking their turns with the women, Burrows nearly kicked Mr. Davidson to death. The men reportedly were laughing and carrying on up until the time they left with whatever they could carry.

The trial took only three days, and the men were convicted and sentenced to twenty years in the Yuma prison. Mac felt as others did, that this was a pretty light sentence. The judge felt that, since no one was killed, the death sentence was not warranted. He also felt that the Yuma prison could change these men during their twenty-year stay.

Mac met with the Davidsons during the trial and could not get the vacant stare of the daughter out of his head. He swore that, if he should ever have a daughter, he would teach her to shoot and to defend herself any way she could. He would never want any of his family to hide in a closet when they had a chance to fight for their lives. It was after meeting the Davidson girl that Mac decided he could not bear to go through something like this again, and he retired from the Rangers. Mac had heard of a small spread for sale in the Elkhorn Valley below the Mogollon Rim. He figured a small ranch and a small town were just what he needed, and he knew the game in the area was as abundant as the grass and the streams were full of trout. A man would need nothing else, except maybe someone to share it with. It was on his trip to buy the ranch that he met Abby, and not long after, he began his new life.

Just before four in the morning, Mac was looking at his pocket watch and wondering at the sudden silence issuing from the bedroom when he heard the muffled cries of a newborn baby. Sara came out from the bedroom to tell her father that he had another baby girl.

I guess we ain’t never gonna have a little brother around here, are we Papa?

Oh, ya never know, Sara.

Mrs. Johnson says you can come in and see the baby after we get things cleaned up some. Mac noted that there was exhaustion in Sara’s voice.

Tell her I’ll be in shortly.

Mac sat staring at the fire and listened to Sara’s words over again in his head. Maybe she was right. Maybe there would never be a son. Maybe he should start thinking about how to raise four girls to be ladies and yet still run a ranch like men just in case they wanted to keep the place after he was gone. He slowly rose from his chair, stretched, yawned, and went into the bedroom to see his newborn daughter. As with the three previous girls, Mac was amazed at how delicate and beautiful a newborn baby is, but this one seemed even more delicate than her sisters when they first came out of the womb. The tiny body in his arms looked much smaller than the other girls had been.

What’s her name? Mac asked.

Angela, Abby replied, after your mother.

Mac decided that he would just call her Little Bit. Mac had nicknamed his first daughter Rosebud because her cheeks were as red as roses when she was born. He never gave nicknames to the middle two, but he loved them just the same.

It had been three days since the birth, and Emma told Mac that Abby was not healing like she had before. She said his wife was still bleeding heavily and was in a lot of pain. Emma said she had to check on her husband anyway, and she would send him for the doctor.

When the doctor arrived, he apologized to Mac for not being available for the birth, as he had been delivering another baby in town. Then he went to Abby. Mac waited outside the bedroom for the doctor to finish his exam, and when the doc came out of the room, he told Mac that Abby was going to be fine. He said that this birth had just torn a few things inside but that the wounds should heal in time. Doc told Mac to keep Abby off her feet for a few more days and that she should be up and around in no time. Mac asked the doc to let people in town know he would likely not be in for a few days, but he said they could send for him if anything came up. Doc agreed, mounted his buggy, and headed for town.

Mac went into the bedroom to see Abby and the baby. He called the girls in to sit with Abby while he told his daughters what he needed them to do the next few days. Although Julie and Becky were too young to understand much, they jumped at the chance to help their mother, and Sara told Mac she would keep the little ones out of trouble.

As the doc had predicted, after a few more days in bed, Abby stopped bleeding. Mac could only convince her to stay in bed a day longer, and he came in from chopping some firewood the next day to find her fussing with Sara’s hair. The other girls were lined up and waiting their turns. Abby smiled sweetly and told him he should get to town to check on things there.

After three weeks, Abby told him when he asked that she was feeling a lot better, nearly as good as new. He thought she might in fact be telling the truth. Her color had returned, and she was as energetic as always. Mac had returned to his usual routine, and Abby’s days seemed to be back to normal as well.

But something still wasn’t right. Occasionally, Abby was doubled over with an unbearable pain in her gut. She could hardly stand and moaned in a way that made Mac want to pick her up and get her to the doc, a way that made his chest hurt. Abby would just ride out the pain and then tell Mac she was sure these episodes, as she called them, would subside as time went on. She told him that the pain only came on her every few days and didn’t seem to last too long, and so she was certain it was nothing to be concerned with, nothing to go to the doctor for. She went about the business of raising her daughters and taking care of things around the house. Abby told him after one such bout, when he threatened to carry her against her will to the doc, that she was too involved with Angela and the chores that go along with a newborn to let a few bellyaches slow her down.

Over the next few months Abby’s stomach pains did indeed subside and grow less frequent. One day she even gave Mac one of those tsk-tsk comments for doubting her ability to hold up under the strain of bearing children. That day, a Monday, Abby woke up at dawn just as she did every day. She fed the baby and then intended to start breakfast for the rest of her family. Mac was already up and had the coffee on the stove. He took a cup in to Abby while she was feeding Little Bit. Abby smiled up at her husband and told him how much she loved her life at that time. Mac gave both Abby and Little Bit a kiss on the cheek and said he had no time for breakfast. He had a lot of paperwork to get done before the territorial marshal came to town.

Will you be on time for supper? she asked.

I don’t expect to be later than four o’clock.

With that, Mac turned for the door, grabbed his gun, and left for town. Abby smiled as, through the window, she watched her husband ride off. She finished feeding the baby and went on to the girls’ bedroom to wake them up.

Rise and shine! she said as she pulled the curtain back from the window.

Rosebud, you get dressed and go fetch some eggs for breakfast. I’ll get the girls dressed.

Sara got dressed, washed her face, and then went to the kitchen to get the egg basket. Abby was putting the bacon in the skillet and stoking the fire.

Did you sleep well? Abby asked.

Sure did, but it’s gettin’ a little cold in the morning, Sara said.

Well, it won’t be long before the snow will start flyin’ in the high country. Now you go get the eggs, and later we will add another comforter to you-alls’ beds.

Sara picked up the egg basket and headed for the barn. When she reached it, the girl swung the door wide open to allow more sunlight in and moved to the east wall where the nest boxes were lined up. Sara gathered the eggs as she moved down the line of boxes, but when she stepped across to the last nest box, she felt something roll under her foot. Before she could determine what it was, she felt a sharp burning pain on the back of her leg just below the knee. Sara fell to the floor and heard a loud buzzing. Sara screamed for her mother, and