Logan's Word: A Logan Family Western - Book 1 (Logan Family Western Series)

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Logan's Word: A Logan Family Western - Book 1 (Logan Family Western Series) Page 13

by Donald L. Robertson


  “No.” Travels Far turned to Nadie, who had been standing by the lodge listening to his story, and spoke. She went back into the lodge and brought out Josh’s Colt and belt.

  With relief he took it from her and tossed it over his shoulder without thinking. When it hit his shoulder, it was all he could do to keep from wincing from the pain caused by the weight of the gunbelt against his sore flesh.

  “Now you rest,” Travels Far said again, as he motioned Josh back inside the lodge.

  Josh realized he was exhausted. Being up for only a couple of hours had taken much of his energy. He did need rest. There was no way he could have ridden out of here today. He just hoped he’d be able to ride tomorrow. He turned and walked back into the lodge. Nadie slipped his buckskin shirt off and gave him another bowl of the stew. He sat down, ate the stew and lay down on the blanket. Sleep enveloped him.

  Pat examined the ranch as they came down the north hillside. “If it was Mr. Nance who built those ranch buildings, he knew a thing or two about defense. Limestone walls, I’m betting close to a foot thick. Would take a cannon to penetrate them.”

  “Looks almost like a fort, doesn’t it?” Scott replied.

  “Aye, it does. Look at the field of fire. The bunkhouse can cover the ranch and barn, and the main house can lay covering fire for the barn and bunkhouse. A wily man it was who built this home.”

  The two men were glad to see the ranch. This was the morning of the second day of travel, and they felt themselves fortunate to have encountered no Comanches. They stopped the team in front of the house.

  Juan Alvarez stepped from inside the barn with his rifle cradled in the crook of his left arm. “Buenos dias. How can I help you?”

  “Howdy,” Scott said. “We come from Camp Wilson. We’ve got supplies for the ranch. Josh Logan hired us. I’m Scott Penny, and this here Irishman is Pat O’Reilly.”

  Juan examined them for a moment, then made his decision. “Let’s get the supplies unloaded. My name is Juan Alvarez. I’m glad to see some additional men here at the ranch.”

  The men started unloading the supplies from the wagon as Mary Louise came through the front door, followed by Bill Nance.

  “I’m Bill Nance, and this is my daughter Mary Louise. I’m glad to see you men. We’ve been short of help, and what with the cattle rustling and regular ranch duties, we’re running pretty thin.”

  Scott had been filling his arms with supplies to take into the house and had his back to the house. He turned as he heard someone coming out of the house, and his eyes locked on Mary Louise. In an instant he took in her blonde hair and deep blue eyes set in a smiling face. Never having difficulty finding words, Scott said, “My name is Scott, ma’am, and I’m pleased to meet you. Had I known there was such an attractive lady living here, I would’ve been down here knocking on your door long before now, looking for a job.” He finished and smiled. His laugh wrinkles at the corners of his eyes turned up. “No offense meant, Mr. Nance.”

  Mary Louise colored a bit beneath her tan. “Why you are forward, aren’t you?” But her smile belied her words.

  Bill Nance frowned for a moment, then smiled and said, “None taken.”

  Pat had stepped from the wagon, shook Juan’s hand and moved to the rear of the wagon to start unloading. “I'm Pat O'Reilly, late of the Sixth Cavalry at Camp Wilson. Josh Logan and your son Rory and I were good friends during the war.”

  Scott put the supplies down, and he and Pat stepped forward to shake the hands of their new boss and his daughter.

  “Speaking of Josh,” Pat continued, “we have some news, as soon as we get the supplies unloaded and the horses taken care of.”

  “Good,” Nance said. “When you’re finished, meet me inside and we’ll discuss what’s going on … you also, Juan.”

  The supplies had been unloaded. Scott and Pat were wiping down the four horses. They had fed the horses and were about finished.

  “Did you notice Mary Louise?” Scott asked.

  “Aye, she’s an attractive young lady.”

  “Attractive? Why, Pat, you are a master at understating the obvious. I don’t think I’ve ever seen as pretty a woman as her. Those blue eyes sparkle like diamonds; and did you feel her strong handshake? She’s all woman. Her blonde hair looked like a field of ripe wheat in the wind, all wavy and shiny.”

  “Lad, you best get your mind off the girl and get it on the work. We’ve a lot to do here, and not yet have we told them about Josh. Keep your focus on the job at hand.”

  Scott was quiet for a moment. “You’re right. I hate to admit it, but for a few minutes there I forgot about Josh. I’d best put first things first.”

  They finished the horses, dropped their belongings in the bunkhouse, and headed for the house. As their boots hit the veranda, Bill Nance called, “Come on in, boys.”

  They walked through the front door and paused for a moment to look around. The inside of the house looked pretty typical for a Texas ranch house, except for the stone floors. There was a big fireplace in the living room. Over it was a large painting of the Nance family. The family was on a rolling hill covered with the brilliant blue of bluebonnets and sprinkled with fiery orange Indian paintbrush. Mr. Nance was much younger. Next to him was a little girl of about seven years, a boy about nine or ten, and a lovely woman who must have been Mrs. Nance. She was extremely attractive, with shoulder-length blonde hair. Mary Louise was a spitting image of her. The furniture in the room was older, but it appeared to be hand-made by a craftsman. The room reflected a woman’s touch.

  “’Tis a striking painting, Mr. Nance,” Pat said. “Your family was lovely.”

  Bill walked into the living room and looked up at the painting. “Thank you, Pat. Those were happy days. The painting was done by a young French woman who had moved to Texas. Her name was Eugenie Lavender. She was born in Paris, France. I just happened by their wagon when they were traveling. They had a little Indian problem going on, so I helped them. She was grateful and offered to paint our family. Eugenie and my wife became good friends.” Bill looked at the painting for a moment longer, then turned and headed for the office. “You boys come on into the office and have a seat. Juan and Mary Louise are already here.” Nance led them into his office and sat behind a large desk. “Now give me the message from Josh and tell me why he’s not with you.”

  Pat looked at Scott, and Scott nodded for him to go ahead and explain what had happened. Pat told them everything. He told them about his sister coming into town and Bull insulting her and how Josh had beat Bull to a bloody pulp, then posted him out of town. He explained Josh’s meeting with Ruffcarn, how Ruffcarn offered Josh a job, and how livid Ruffcarn was after Josh turned him down and all but called him a thief. He told them that Scott had mentioned there were some good men in Brownwood and Josh had authorized him to hire three with Mr. Nance’s approval.

  “That’ll be fine if they’re good men. I’d like to have cattlemen who can fight. But I don’t want gunmen working here. Is that clear, Scott?”

  “Yes sir. That’s exactly what Josh said you’d say. I know these boys, and they ride for the brand. They aren’t scared of a fight, and they’re all good with a gun, but they’re mainly good hands. None of ‘em are gun hands, though they may have killed in the past in self-defense.”

  “Good, that’s settled. You can leave in the morning. Juan, why don’t you go along. Better two men than one riding this country.”

  “Si, Señor, I’ll be glad to.”

  “Now, Pat, why isn’t Josh here?”

  “Aye, Mr. Nance, we come now to the difficult part.” Pat then told the story about Josh to Bill, Juan, and Mary Louise. “And that’s all we know,” Pat finished.

  Nance pulled out his pipe and tobacco. He loaded the pipe, struck a match, and lit the pipe by moving the match around the surface of the tobacco until it was burning evenly. He inhaled deeply, held it for a moment, and blew the smoke out. “What’s you boys’ gut feelings? Do you think the Indian took h
im to torture and kill or to try to heal him?”

  This time Scott answered. “I’ve got to tell you, Mr. Nance, I’ve seen a lot of folks killed by Indians. This just doesn’t look right to me. I think if the Indian, whatever kind he was, was going to kill Josh, he would have killed him right there and scalped him. Josh must have been covered with prickly pear thorns. I don’t think the Indian would have bothered with him in that condition if he wasn’t trying to save him. But that’s just my thinkin’. I’ve been wrong before, but I hope I’m not this time.”

  “Do you agree, Pat?”

  “Aye, it’s the best theory I could come up with. I’ve fought the red man throughout the West, and with Josh in this condition, if he wasn’t going to help him, I think he would have killed him right there or scalped him and left him to die.”

  “Well, I hope you’re right. But even so, with his being shot, then dragged by his horse, he’d have to be a tough man to survive.”

  Pat looked Mr. Nance in the eye, “I’ve seen tough men in my lifetime, but never a man like Josh Logan. If there’s anyone who can survive that kind of abuse, he’ll be that man.”

  They heard the hoofbeats of a horse entering the ranch yard. Everyone got up to look. It was the roan that Josh had been riding. They all walked outside. The roan moved toward Juan as soon as he saw him. Juan reached out, took the reins with one hand, and spoke softly to the roan while rubbing his neck with the other hand. They all saw the blood on the saddle and withers of the horse.

  Scott stated the obvious, “At least his horse made it back. Look, Josh’s Winchester is still in the boot, and his saddle bags are here. I’m bettin’ Josh will be back, though I don’t know when or what kind of shape he’ll be in. If it’s okay, I’ll just take his things over to the bunkhouse for when he gets back.”

  “You could be right, Scott,” Mr. Nance said. “Go ahead and put his things in the bunkhouse. We’ll hope for the best. In the meantime, we need to get you and Juan to Brownwood to get those other men hired. If Bull did this, then Ruffcarn knows, and he won’t be long in acting.”

  “Mr. Nance, if it’s alright with you and Juan, we could leave today. That’ll put us into Brownwood tonight, and if those boys are looking for a job, then we could be back by tomorrow noon.”

  “Scott, that’s fine with me. Juan, what do you think?”

  “I’m ready, Señor. I’ll get the caballos ready and we’ll be on our way.”

  Nance nodded, “Mary Louise, would you run into the house and ask Teresa to fix up a grub sack for Juan and Scott?”

  “Yes, Papa,” Mary Louise said, as she turned for the house.

  In less than thirty minutes, the two men were mounted on fresh horses. Mary Louise came out of the house with the grub sacks and handed one to Juan. “Teresa included a couple of pieces of pecan pie. I hope you like it,” she said, as she handed Scott’s to him and gave him a heart-melting smile.

  “I’m sure I will, ma’am. I love pecan pie. Now you take good care of yourself. I’ll be back tomorrow,” he said, as he tipped his hat and gave her a big grin.

  “Adios,” Juan said as he waved. He and Scott rode out of the ranch at a trot.

  Chapter 17

  Fianna turned to Mrs. Diehl. “ I’m terribly worried about Josh.”

  “I understand, dear. But we can do nothing here but pray for his safety. I have confidence that he’ll be fine.”

  The two women were sitting at the table drinking tea. “Would you care for more tea, Mrs. Diehl?” Fianna asked, as she lifted the teapot from the table.

  “Why, yes, my dear, that would be nice.”

  Fianna started pouring the tea. “Look, Ruffcarn and his ruffians are leaving.”

  Ruffcarn had walked out of the King 7 Saloon with Wesley Pierce. They were followed by Grizzard Bankes, Bull, and the rest of the Circle W crew. The hands mounted up and waited as Pierce and Ruffcarn talked for a few moments, then Ruffcarn turned to his horse and stepped into the saddle. He turned south, leading his crew past the Shamrock Saloon on the right and Tiny’s stable on the left.

  “What do you suppose Ruffcarn and Pierce were talking about?” Fianna asked.

  “Nothing good, dear, I can assure you. I don’t know much about either man, but I do know men. Those two are as rotten as they come. But of the two, I’d say Pierce is the most dangerous.”

  “Really? He’s a very handsome man … in a scary sort of way.”

  “Handsome is only skin deep, my dear. You watch that man. I feel he’s evil. I’ve nothing to base it on except my intuition. But I’m right most of the time.”

  Fianna’s thoughts drifted back to Josh Logan. Josh is a strikingly handsome man; even with the scar across his forehead. It emphasized his strong, lean features. But he was also kind, considerate, and protective of her. How could she be having these feelings about a man whom she’d known for only a few days? She faintly shook her head, as if to clear it. “Mrs. Diehl, might I be of help to you and Mr. Diehl? I’m not one to sit and do nothing.”

  Mrs. Diehl smiled at her and patted her hand. “Fianna, your help would be appreciated, my dear. But you’re under no obligation to do anything. By the way, I’d be much more comfortable if you’d call me Victoria.”

  “Thank you, Victoria, I’d love to.”

  “Good, that’s settled. My goodness, it’s almost ten o’clock. Let’s clear this tea service and get to work. It’ll be dinner time soon, and I must get it prepared. We can’t let Tiny go hungry.”

  The women stood, cleared the table, and moved into the kitchen.

  As she helped Victoria, Fianna thought about her Aunt Kathleen O’Reilly. Fianna had been only four years old when she was taken by Pat to live with Aunt Kathleen. She vaguely remembered her parents, brothers, and sister. Her conversations with Pat had helped keep them alive for her. It had been a hard time.

  Her parents had come over from Ireland in 1840 to start a new life in the land of the free. She’d been born five years later. From what Pat said, they were a happy family. Fortunately, her mother and father had been frugal with the money they had from their business in Ireland, and they arrived in the new country with substantial funds. Even so, her father and two older brothers worked at the docks, loading and unloading ships. Pat spoke of his father’s dream to move the family west and start a farm.

  When she was four years old, the dream came crashing down around them. That was the 1849 cholera epidemic in New York City. Her parents, two older brothers, and her sister died with that horrible sickness. Pat, who at the time was seventeen years old, with the money his family had saved, took Fianna to live with Aunt Kathleen in South Hadley, Massachusetts. With her guidance, Pat invested their parents’ savings and saw the money grow.

  Growing up in Aunt Kathleen’s home was a wonderful experience. She was a happy woman, even though she never married. She did have a fiery temper that was reserved for those other than her family. She had started as a seamstress when she moved to South Hadley. She was so adept at her work that her business grew until she opened a dress shop in South Hadley. Fianna helped out as a young child, then worked there as she grew older and more responsible.

  Pat also lived for a year with Aunt Kathleen. During that time he worked on the South Hadley Canal that detoured around the Great Falls on the Connecticut River. He was proud of his job on the canal, always telling anyone who would listen that it was the first canal for boats in the United States. Fianna remembered sadly the day Aunt Kathleen and Pat sat down with her to tell her Pat had joined the army. He was only eighteen. It broke her young heart that he was leaving, but her aunt explained that he was a man and had a right to make his own decisions.

  “Don’t you think, dear?”

  “What? Oh, I’m sorry, Victoria, I was lost in my own thoughts. What did you say?”

  “I was just saying that it’s so fortunate that your brother was getting out of the army now. Isn’t it funny how things have a way of working out?”

  Fianna heard horses and lo
oked out the kitchen window. She watched as a cavalry patrol was leaving the fort. “Yes, it really is. I know Pat wants to go to California, but he’s so responsible. He would never leave a good friend’s family in trouble. I’m sure he’ll be a great help to them. After all his years in the army, he is an exceptionally capable man.”

  Victoria watched the ten man patrol trot south past Tiny’s blacksmith shop. “I’m sure he will be missed in the army, but Bill Nance needs capable help at his ranch or I’m afraid he might lose it to Ruffcarn.”

  They both heard the door to the store open and close, then they heard Mr. Diehl say, “What do you want here?”

  By the tone of his voice, Fianna knew the person who entered the store wasn’t a welcome customer. She stepped out of the kitchen and walked to the entryway into the store with Mrs. Diehl. She saw Wesley Pierce standing at the store counter, examining the candy on display.

  “Thought I’d be neighborly and give you some business,” Pierce replied, his lips lifting at the corners of his mouth into a semblance of a smile.

  Diehl walked over behind the counter and said, “Make your choice, then get out.”

  Pierce had looked up at Diehl and was about to reply when Fianna appeared. He turned to her, and his smile broadened. “Well, hello, Miss. I saw you come in on the stage, but I haven’t had the pleasure of your acquaintance. Wesley Pierce at your service. Mrs. Diehl.”

  Victoria gave a sharp nod and Fianna simply said, “My name is Fianna O’Reilly.”

  “I must say, your arriving in Camp Wilson has certainly brightened a dull town. You must let me show you around sometime.”

  “No, thank you, Mr. Pierce. I’m particular about the men I associate with.”

  “I don’t know what you heard,” Pierce said, as he looked at Victoria, then slowly turned his head to Diehl. He looked back at Fianna. “I assure you that I’m a gentleman and merely desire the company of a lovely lady.”

  Fianna felt a shiver run down her spine when she looked into his eyes. His eyes looked dead and frightening.

 

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