Free Once a Ranger by Dusty Richards Page B

stub of a candle to read the note and then agreed it was more evidence.
    â€œOnly the Ramona part sounds familiar to me,” Noble said. “I once knew a Mexican woman by that name who treated horny cowboys.”
    They both laughed.
    â€œShe was married to a man who repaired saddles in his shop. But she earned her money repairing ranch hands.” Noble slapped his knees and laughed. “I’m certain the glove maker and her are not the same one.”
    â€œBut we have a name, and someone will know of her.”
    A coyote yapped on the mountainside. Another answered and the cricket chorus chirped away in the star-filled night. Guthrey went to sleep pleased that they had more evidence on the grim murders. His hope was restored; someday they’d solve the case and arrest the killer or killers. Then he slept, missing his wife’s warmness to cuddle with.

SEVEN
    A NOTHER ISOLATED RANCH they rode up to at midday hosted a Mexican man and his family. His name was Guermo Diaz, and his very pregnant wife was named Deloris. They had three small children and had carefully raised a small garden with limited springwater.
    â€œIs this your ranchero?” Guermo asked him.
    â€œNo.” Guthrey shook his head at the man.
    â€œCan I stay here? I have no work. I have no place. When I found this place I tell Deloris it will feed us.”
    â€œI’m Sheriff Guthrey. As I said, no, I don’t own it. But I can see you two have worked hard here. I see the garden is doing well. My wife at our ranch could use you, and then you’d have a job and we could find you a house, I am certain.” He drew them a map in the dirt of how to get there. Guermo nodded that he could find the place.
    â€œDon’t try to go until the baby is born. The job will be open for you.”
    â€œ
Muchas gracias
, Senor Guthrey.” His dark-faced wife hugged his arm and acted excited standing beside him as he shook Guthrey’s hand.
    â€œHave you seen any strange men around here lately?”
    Guermo’s face had a look like he was considering something. “Three men came by here last week. They asked me lots of questions like they owned this place.”
    â€œWhat did they look like?”
    â€œOne was a giant of a man. He was like a big bear. The redheaded guy was the boss and he kept looking at my wife. He worried me.”
    â€œWere there more?”
    â€œA Mexican boy was their slave. I only know they called him bad names.”
    â€œThis redheaded man was how tall?” Guthrey’s mind sharpened at the challenge.
    â€œTaller than you, senor.”
    â€œHe was an
hombre muy malo
,” his wife said and shook her head as if she was still wary of him.
    â€œHad he ever been by here before?”
    â€œNo and I hope he never comes back.”
    â€œBe careful. Those men are killers of innocent people.”
    â€œ
Sí
, we will.
Muchas gracias
, we will be anxious to work for you, senor.”
    Guthrey almost hated to leave them, but he wanted to go cross-country and get home. His clothes still stunk of the dead man. At last they had a suspect—a redheaded man and his slave.
    He told them, “We’re going home. You be careful getting to my place.”
    â€œAh,
sí
, senor, we will work hard for you.”
    * * *
    G UTHREY AND N OBLE arrived back at the Bridges Ranch after sundown. Cally must have hurried and dressed, ’cause she came hard on the run to hug him.
    â€œMaybe not,” he cautioned her when she was within six feet of him.
    â€œOh, you do smell bad but I have missed you.” She snuggled up and hugged him anyway. “What is that terrible odor?”
    â€œWe had to dig up a man’s corpse and take it back to town.”
    â€œOh, that sounds horrible. Have you eaten?”
    â€œNo, ma’am. I’m sure glad you asked,” Noble said.
    â€œI will get you two some soap and clean clothes. Then I’ll fix you some food,