Rafferty: Cowboy Trail Boss: Christian Historical Western Romance (The Kavanagh Brothers Book 9)

  Rafferty: Cowboy Trail Boss

  The Kavanagh Brothers Book 9

  Kathleen Ball

  Copyright © 2020 by Kathleen Ball

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  Thank You

  History of the Chisholm Trail

  Free Download

  Shea Book 10

  We’ve Only Just Begun

  About the Author

  Other Books by Kathleen

  Chapter One

  It was sheer chaos! Rafferty could scarcely control his mount with all the shooting, hollering, and stampeding going on. He jabbed his heel into his white mustang, Maverick and rode for bear. Someone needed to turn the cattle around or at the absolute least slow them down.

  A bullet whizzed by his ear, and he immediately hunched over. Cattle rustlers rode ahead of him with at least five hundred head that they’d cut from the herd. Rafferty stopped to give his horse a rest. Poor Maverick was breathing heavily. He’d run faster than any other horse.

  “What just happened?” Teagan Kavanagh asked, pulling up alongside Rafferty. “Did you recognize any of them?”

  Rafferty removed his hat, knocked the dust from it, and resettled it on his head. “Looked like the Fredericks. I take it they didn’t appreciate us meddling in their devious schemes.”

  “Let’s see about getting the remaining cattle and horses settled, and then we must figure out what to do. Someone has to go after the stolen cattle, and others need to drive the rest of the cattle up to Kansas.” Grimacing, he shook his head. “I don’t think we have enough men. We need Brogan and Sullivan here on the ranch. Can’t have them running off while their wives are with child. Quinn is down with a busted leg. We need the women guarded in case more revenge is coming our way.” Teagan looked out upon the herd. “Let’s meet at the house in an hour. We have some planning to do.”

  “Don’t we need to go after the rustlers?” Rafferty asked. If they didn’t run them down in short order, they might never see those cattle again.

  “There’s time. The cattle will slow them down.” Teagan turned his horse and rode toward the ranch houses. Rafferty followed at a much slower pace. Maverick was tired.

  The nine brothers crowded around the table at the main house. The housekeeper Dolly was filling glasses with water as quick as she could while Gemma, Teagan’s wife, passed them to the brothers.

  “We have Donnell, Fitzpatrick, Angus, Rafferty and Shea.”

  “Excuse me, Teagan, but I’m uncertain if Angus will be leaving,” Angus’ wife Julian announced.

  Teagan scowled.

  Angus pushed back his wooden chair and hurried to Julian’s side. “Does this mean…?”

  She beamed. “We’re adding to the Kavanagh clan.” A dusky blush covered her face.

  Angus hugged her and then led her to the sofa. “You need to get off your feet. Do you know when?”

  Julian nodded shyly. “I’m not positive, but maybe three months?”

  Angus leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I won’t leave.” He moved and sat back down at the table.

  “Congratulations, Angus,” Teagan said, and the rest of the brothers repeated the same. Excited voices could be heard from the sitting room where Julian was.

  “We need to develop a plan. Donnell, and Fitzpatrick, you two go after what was taken from our herd. I’m hoping to join you, but we’ll have to see. You’ll meet up with Rafferty and Shea along the Chisholm Trail. Rafferty, do you think you can handle the trail responsibilities for maybe a month?”

  “Of course, I can be trail boss. I’m honored you trust me.” He injected a note of sarcasm, though he really was pleased his brother had chosen him. “Shea, you can be my foremen.”

  Shea gave him a look that stated they were doomed. “Sure thing.”

  “Let’s get everyone ready.” Teagan stood and continued outside.

  “Come on, Shea, we have a lot to do before we go,” Rafferty said.

  It was incredible what could be accomplished in one day. By morning they had men hired, supplies all loaded, and Cookie was happy with the cook wagon. There were close to fifteen hundred head they needed to drive along the great trail. To sell the herd for a decent price, they had to get to Kansas. There were too many longhorns in Texas, which dropped the price to nothing.

  Rafferty put up a fearless front, but nervousness spread through him as he yelled for them to start off. “Haw!”

  Teagan gave him a nod of confidence and off they rode, north toward Fort Worth and later up near the Red River.

  Phil Barker took the lead, followed by Cookie and the wagon. Phil was seasoned to the trail, having taken the last three trips with the Kavanagh cattle. Next came the cattle and the drovers.

  Hank Fork was a somewhat new hand at the ranch but a pleasant man in his forties. His long dark hair was showing signs of gray.

  Jeb Marsh was a youthful man who was fine as long as they kept an eye on him to make certain he was traveling down the correct path.

  Griff Carr was one of their best ropers. He’d lived on the ranch for years.

  Seamus and Frank O’Reilly were twins from Ireland and not only were they good drovers, they were great Indian fighters too.

  And trailing in the back was Donald Dill in charge of the remuda. There wasn’t a horse anywhere that didn’t take to him.

  Rafferty glanced at his brother Shea and grinned. Usually they didn’t get to lead on cattle drives since they were the two youngest out of ten brothers. But he’d prove himself on this trip. That would bring an end to any little brother jokes.

  They skirted Fort Worth and headed toward the Red River. They’d cross in about two days and hope for the best. One of the worst parts of any drive was the river crossings. Sometimes the water was high and rushing fast. Quicksand surrounding slow-moving water was likewise a concern, though the shape of the cattle hooves made it easier for them to get across. It was feasible if done right.

  And he intended they would do it right—from start to finish.

  At least he wasn’t concerned about rustlers and they weren’t on Indian land yet. He smiled as he watched the O’Reilly brothers chase down straying steers. They each had a lariat coiled in their hands, which they swatted the strays with. They worked efficiently together. Relief filled him when he saw no other outfit near the river waiting to cross. The grass was plentiful too. It was an excellent sign no cattle had been herded through in a few months.

  They ceased their travel there for the night, guarding the cattle in shifts. Those who weren’t pulling guard duty sat around a fire after they ate Cookie’s stew and biscuits. It had been a lengthy day in the saddle. Sleep would come early.


  Rafferty and Shea stayed out of the circle of firelight. Doing so made it easier to detect predators approaching. When a man stared into a fire for a while and then peered into the dark, his eyesight wasn’t so keen.

  “You think our brothers caught up with the Fredericks?” Shea asked as he leaned back against his saddle.

  “Not sure. The Fredericks have been holding a grudge for a while now. I wager they had a lot of planning done. I’m just praying for our brothers’ safety. That sure was something the way Julian told us Angus couldn’t leave.” Rafferty chuckled. “I suppose we’re uncles to too many. I never get all of their names right.”

  “I know what you mean, I miss the old days when it was just us. I’m thrilled for our brothers, but I’m hankering for some peace and some space,” Shea commented.

  “Get some sleep,” Rafferty told him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll take the early watch.”

  Chapter Two

  Hiding areas up ahead looked to be meager. It must be the plains. She’d be better off running back to see if she could locate the Kavanaghs. They had been late, and it had cost her. She should have walked back down the trail in the first place, but those outlaws were hunting for her. Maybe they had grown tired and ridden off to wherever they had her pa’s cattle.

  Weariness settled in every part of her body. She turned and started to walk back. If her pa had taken her on the trail before she’d have known what to do.

  How long had she walked? Her head was so heated it felt as though it would explode. Yes, getting back to some shade would serve her good. It was a day’s walk, wasn’t it? She closed her eyes trying to squeeze the exhaustion from her mind.

  Thankfully, she had supplies, though she had to carry them. Most importantly, she had her long gun and her six shooter. The knot on her bandana was tight on her neck, but she eventually got it loosened and slid it off, hauling in a deep breath. Lifting one of her canteens, she wet the cloth and draped the bandanna over her head.

  In her head, she could still hear her father telling her, “Mae, this will make us wealthy. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity.” It had been a tragedy, not an opportunity. She heard a noise and dropped lifeless to the ground, trying to appear dead.

  It was the hardest task; stopping her body from trembling and holding in a scream when an arrow struck her shoulder. The pain was immense, and she bit through her bottom lip. They’d leave soon, she hoped.

  There were two horses and as one man got off his horse, she heard a strong harsh voice, but she could not make out what was being said. The next thing she realized; they were gone. She stayed on the ground for a good while, speculating if they were indeed watching her. The arrow in her shoulder hurt. How was she going to take it out? Thankfully, the trees weren’t unduly far ahead.

  Shuffling her feet along, she thought about her brother whom, she’d lost in the war. He was the one who had taught her to rope and shoot. Her mother had been gone for so long it was hard to picture her. Now her father had been the victim of a stampede to the point there wasn’t much to bury.

  It had been heavy, sweaty work to dig the grave. How many times had she been sick while burying him? It had drained her, and now it felt like the end. Soon, soon she’d be at the woods and she could seek about for a means to get the arrow out.

  Finally, there were blessed trees. Before she had a chance to peer around everything turned black.

  “What do you think?” Shea asked Rafferty and Phil. “Should we cross?”

  “With the way the dark clouds are moving in, I think we’d best cross right now. Tomorrow it might be too high and rapid. Any objections, Phil?”

  “No, boss, I agree with you. We’d best get those cattle moving. Cattle first, then the horses and the cook wagon.”

  Rafferty nodded. “Phil, ride to the right and let the men on that side know the plan. Shea and I will tell the rest.”

  They crossed at a bend in the river where the water wasn’t as rapid. It was still fast and broad, but it was their best option. He told Jeb Marsh the plan and heard him mutter that he had looked forward to stopping at the Red River Station.

  Rafferty shook his head. There were plenty of saloons there for the drovers. They’d never stopped before, but Jeb was new to their outfit. Good with a gun, though.

  The cattle crammed in the river until they drove up onto the opposite bank. It took a while to get them all through. Next went Donald Dill with the remuda of horses. So far, so good. The men went next.

  “Cookie, you ready?” Rafferty asked.

  “Been doing this a lot of years, Rafferty. Don’t you worry about me.” He gripped the reins in his hands and yelled, “Haw!” The mules stepped forward, pulling the wagon.

  Rafferty rode right next to it, just in case. It would be a short trip if they lost their provisions and had to turn back. The river was swift, and it had rained. Good thing they were crossing now or they would have had to wait until the river slowed.

  They traveled for a while before they stopped. Rafferty surveyed the horizon. The clouds were growing even blacker and more ominous. The wind whipped at him, tearing at his shirt and tugging on his hat. The scent of rain was heavy in the air. They were in for it.

  Cookie handed out biscuits to the men before they went and looked after the herd. He promised a hot meal waiting when they got back. Then he put up a tarp and collected dry wood from his wagon. He whittled some shavings and eventually he had a fire going despite the wicked wind.

  Rafferty sighed in relief. Coffee would be wonderful about now. It was going to be a long night with the storm brewing. There wasn’t a chance they would remain dry. He just hoped the cattle didn’t get spooked and start running.

  Cookie was swift to hand him coffee and a bowl of stew. Without hesitation, Rafferty dug in.

  He’d just finished when lightning flashed across the sky followed by booming thunder. He left his plate and cup on the ground and rapidly mounted up. Fat drops of rain pattered across his shoulders and soaked into the dusty ground. More lightning streaked across the sky with more pounding thunder. Steady as always, Maverick headed out; he wasn’t disturbed by such weather.

  Shots rang through the air, most probably to stop the cattle from stampeding. Rafferty needed to get out there with the men. He leaned low in the saddle and raced Maverick to the front of the herd. The cattle moved around restlessly, and many were bawling, but they were staying in one place. Rafferty nodded to Griff Carr.

  “Good job keeping them here.”

  Griff nodded. “They started but didn’t gain any momentum. By next storm they won’t be frightened of the pistol fire, I bet.”

  Knowing he was right, Rafferty gestured toward camp just as the sky opened and the rain fell in earnest. “Go on and get some hot food, I’ll spell you for a while.”

  “Thanks, boss.” Griff rode off.

  It was hard to see much in the heavy rainfall, save for the hulking shapes of the cattle gathering close to each other for protection against the miserable weather.

  Even with a rain slicker on, there wasn’t a way to be comfortable. Rafferty’s shirt, trousers and boots were soaked. They would have been from the river crossing, but he’d have hoped they’d be dry the same night from the fire. There’d be no big fires tonight if the storm kept up as it promised it would. His batwing chaps weighed heavily on his legs. A resigned sigh slipped past his lips. It wasn’t the first time he’d spent the night wet, and it wouldn’t be the last.

  The softness of the O’Reilly boys singing to the cattle was captured on the wind. They sure knew how to settle the animals down, even in the midst of the storm. Donald Dill was talking to the horses as thunder bellowed. He sure had a way with those horses. They had about six extra horses for each man. Cattle could travel for miles and miles, but the horses worked hard with the extra burden of the cowboy on them. They were switched out. When they reached Abilene, Kansas, they would sell many of the extra horses.

  Hank Fork rode up. “My turn for guard
duty, boss. I’d advise you to stay dry, but there’s no way to achieve that.” He grinned.

  Rafferty smiled before he turned Maverick and rode toward camp. So far, everything was fine. God was watching out for him. At last, the thunder and lightning moved off, but the deluge continued. As he pulled his hat low over his eyes, he glanced into the woods. A movement caught his attention. Was that a predator? No… it seemed to be… a woman.

  “Come on, Maverick, we need to search.” He swung down and held onto the reins. The woods were dense in this section. He squinted into the darkness, finally spotting the small figure. It was a woman. His breath caught.

  And she had an arrow sticking out of her shoulder.

  “Ma’am? Ma’am, I can help you.” He approached slowly, afraid of spooking her. As he drew closer, he could make out more of her fine features. She was young.

  She stared at him with her big dark eyes as though she wasn’t all there in her head. She blinked, took a step forward, and blinked again. “Kavanagh?” He caught her as she fell forward.

  Leading Maverick, Rafferty carried her the rest of the way to the wagon.

  “Cookie!” he shouted.

  “More coffee?” he asked emerging from under his tarp. Then, “Oh! What happened? Are we being attacked?” He quickly drew his gun and scanned the area.

  “I found her in the woods. I need you to take the arrow out and determine what else is amiss with her.” He set the woman on the tailgate, but he didn’t let go. It wouldn’t be good for her to fall on the arrow.