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

by Donald L. Robertson

  “I see,” Bill Nance said. “He came this far out of his way to bring us the news of Rory.”

  “Aye, he did. He made a promise to a good friend.”

  “Thank you for telling us, Mr. O’Reilly,” Mary Louise said.

  Everyone was finished with dinner. “Okay boys, let’s get to work,” Nance said, as he stood.

  All of the men stood, thanked Teresa and Mary Louise, and headed for the door. Scott hung back. “Miss Nance, it’s sure good to see you again. I must admit your cooking is mighty fine.”

  “Why must you admit it, Mr. Penny? Did you have different expectations?” Mary Louise asked innocently.

  “No, ma’am. I just meant that it was mighty good. I thank you very much, and I look forward to speaking with you again, but I’d better get moving.” Scott hastily retreated, unsure of what had just happened. He had a glib tongue and could verbally fence with anyone, man or woman. But he found this woman flustered him easily, a new feeling for him.

  “You best watch yourself, lad,” Pat said as Scott came down off the porch. “It’s my thought that lassie may have her cap set for you.”

  Scott grinned. “I’m such a good catch. What with me owning my horse and saddle, this here belt gun, and rifle. Why, any woman of good sense could see a great future with me.”

  “I’m only telling you what these old eyes see. That pretty lass is making plans, and those plans include you,” Pat said, then chuckled. “Aye you’re in big trouble.”

  Jimmy had overheard Pat’s comment. “She sure was eyeballing you Scott. Though I can’t imagine why, what with such a good looking gent like me around.”

  Scott turned his head to reply and stopped. Over the top of the north ridge he could make out a group of riders. “Pat, looks like we have more company coming. Let’s head back to the house. Jimmy, let the boys know in the bunkhouse—get ready for Indians.”

  Chapter 19

  Josh woke early. He had slept all night, and as his eyes opened, he came instantly awake; a trait of self-preservation he had developed over the years. He looked around, surveying his surroundings. Travels Far lay sleeping with his wife on the other side of the wickiup. It was dark still. He listened; the camp was quiet. He lay there for a moment assessing his injuries. His head had stopped hurting. He gently felt the bullet wound; it was still sore to the touch. His face, arms, and chest were sore and tingly, but even before he moved, he realized that much of the pain had dissipated. He sat up—no dizziness. That was good.

  As soon as Josh moved, Travels Far slipped out of his bed and stood, motioning for Josh to get dressed and follow him outside. Travels Far stepped outside as Josh was pulling on his buckskin shirt and slipping into his moccasins. He strapped his gunbelt on over his buckskin shirt and followed the Indian. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Nadie getting up.

  “How do you feel?” Travels Far asked.

  “I feel good,” Josh said. He realized that he did feel good. His left leg was still sore, but it was feeling much better. He hated to lose his boot. Those boots had been with him through the war, only needed new soles and heels occasionally. Now he was without boots, and they weren’t cheap.

  He could breathe more comfortably. His right side still hurt when he took a deep breath, but he didn’t think a rib was broken. The biggest problem now was his hands. They were still swollen, and his palms had been cut up something fierce. It would take a while for them to heal, and he needed them to be in a lot better shape than they were now—to draw a gun.

  “Good, we’ll eat, then take you to Rocking N.”

  “I’m forever in your debt.”

  Nadie was already building a fire outside the wikiup. Josh didn’t know what she had planned, but he sure knew he was hungry. The rest of the village was starting to stir. The night guards had moved in and were going into their huts to get a little rest before they started the day. The Kickapoos lived with the constant danger of attack from the Comanches.

  What I’d give for a cup of coffee, but I’m mighty happy just to be alive. If Travels Far hadn’t found me, I probably would have died out there. I’d never gotten all those prickly pear thorns out, especially in my back and neck. They’d surely gotten infected. Infections could kill a man as dead as any bullet in this country. If he didn’t die, he could lose an arm or a leg from infection. Whatever salve Nadie used worked mighty fine.

  They ate a breakfast of venison and mesquite bean bread that Nadie called pinole. The venison was delicious, the bread a little bitter, but still satisfying. Travels Far had spoken to one of the younger men, and by the time they had finished eating, there were eight horses waiting. Josh was surprised at the number. “Why take this many men?” Josh asked Travels Far.

  “Comanches. We ride long ways. Never know where Comanches might be.”

  Daylight was breaking over the prairie. The light of the morning sun began to wash across the deep green of the pecan trees.

  “We go,” Travels Far said. He and the other braves leaped onto their horses. Josh moved a bit slower. He stepped into the iron stirrup and swung himself into the saddle. I’m mighty thankful for my own saddle. He could feel the wooden saddle beneath the buffalo hide. The hide made it acceptable. It beat riding bareback.

  Three of Travels Far’s men were armed with bows and arrows, the other three with muzzle loaders laid across their saddles in front of them. Josh had his Colt, but he wasn’t too sure of his ability to shoot it with his hands swollen and torn like they were. The riders stayed to the trees, venturing onto the open plains only when it was necessary, and after taking time to scan the surrounding territory. They crossed a creek that ran almost due south, then paralleled it for several hours, following ridge lines, taking care not to silhouette themselves.

  The country was beautiful, even in the Texas summer heat. The rain had brightened the bunch grasses. Calico Bush with its thick foliage and brilliant flowers of red, yellow, and orange dotted the prairie, sometimes growing as high as a horse’s back. As pretty as the land was, on this bright summer day, the heat was oppressive. They rode without talking, the Indians’ bodies gleaming as sweat flowed from every pore. Josh missed his hat. He’d had that hat for most of the war. He could sure use it now to protect his head from the heat. A hat was at the top of his list when he could find a mercantile.

  A short time after noon, they passed between two mountains that rose out of the plains. “Must be careful,” Travels Far said. “This is where Comanches travel often.”

  Josh didn’t have to be told twice. He wanted no more to do with the Comanches if he could help it. He felt exposed without his Winchester. He had come to depend on that rifle. He hoped the roan had made it back to the ranch with his rifle intact. To lose it would be a tremendous loss. He had his Colt, but only the ammunition in his belt. That wouldn’t last long if they had to fight.

  The long ride was beginning to tell on his weakened body. With the loss of blood, it would take him at least a week or more to get back all of his strength. His head nodded momentarily, and he jerked himself back erect. He must not appear weak among these men.

  Travels Far missed nothing. He saw Josh as his head dropped to his chest, then his body jerked erect. “We stop now,” he said.

  They were to the east of the twin peaks and again in wooded country. The oak and mesquite trees would shelter them. Josh stepped down to the ground and almost collapsed. He held onto the saddle until he could regain some feeling in his legs, then he moved near where Travels Far was sitting and sat down, leaning back against an oak tree. “Warm day,” Josh said.

  Travels Far smiled for the first time. “Many days this warm here. You get used to it.” The smile vanished from his face as he stood and pointed. “Much dust. It looks like many riders headed north. They not Indian. They ride hard in open. Looks like they come from your ranch.”

  Forgetting the pain, Josh quickly rose to his feet. “Travels Far, we must be going. If that was Ruffcarn and his crew, there could have been a fight. I’v
e got to get there and help.”

  “We go,” Travels Far said and jumped onto his horse.

  The other braves followed suit, as Josh stiffly swung back into the saddle.

  They crested the ridge north of the ranch and halted. “Let me ride in ahead of you,” Josh said. “They might be a little jumpy if we go barreling into the ranch.”

  Josh pulled out ahead, and with Travels Far and the other braves following, they rode down to the ranch. Josh saw Pat and Scott turn and head back to the ranch house, then Bill and Juan stepped out onto the veranda.

  Josh and the Kickapoos rode into the ranch yard. Josh swung his leg over the saddle, stepped to the ground and leaned against the horse for a moment.

  Pat ran out to Josh. “Welcome back, laddie! ‘Tis wondrous to see you alive.”

  Josh grinned at Pat as the men shook hands. “I’m mighty glad to be seen alive myself.”

  He straightened and motioned, his arm swinging in a wide arc. “These are my friends. If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t be standing before you today.”

  Travels Far translated Josh’s words to the Kickapoo braves. There was much nodding and gesturing.

  Josh pointed to Travels Far. “This is Travels Far. He saved my life. He found me and brought me to the Kickapoo camp. His wife nursed me. You should’ve seen me—I looked like a pin cushion. I had prickly pear thorns everywhere, except my legs. I owe him much. He speaks good English, and he told me who shot me. I’ll tell you all about it later. But, now, we’re all tired. We need rest and food.”

  Travels Far again translated for the other braves. Turning to Josh, he said, “Food, yes; rest, no. We will start back to our village. We like better to rest in the forest.”

  Josh turned to Nance. “Mr. Nance, we need to feed them well, and if you don’t mind them cutting out four or five head of cattle, I’d sure appreciate it.”

  “Absolutely. Travels Far, thank you for what you’ve done. We’re your friends if you’ll allow it. You’ll always be welcome here. If you’d like to cut out five head of cattle, and take back to your village, I’d like that.”

  “We will do that. We will remember you. We may come again.”

  “Good,” Nance said. “Get down from your horses and come in and eat before you go.”

  Travels Far jumped down from his horse, said something to the other braves, and they followed suit. They stood by their horses, continuing to hold the reins.

  Nance waved to the cowhands. “We can take your horses and feed and water them while you eat so they’ll be a little fresher.”

  Travels Far explained Nance’s statement to his men, and there was much head shaking and raised voices as they discussed releasing their horses to these white men.

  Josh stepped to Travels Far’s side, “Your horses will be safe. We owe you much. We’d like to show that. Let us feed and water them, so that you’ll have strong horses for your ride back to the village.”

  Travels Far translated again, and the men reluctantly agreed.

  Nance turned to Juan. “Pick a couple of men and take these horses to water, rub them down, and feed them well.”

  “Si, Señor. Lee, Jimmy, grab some horses and let’s take care of them for our friends.” Juan, Lee, and Jimmy walked over and took the reins from the Indians. The horses, unused to the white man’s smell, fidgeted some, but went with them to the water trough.

  “Now come inside, let’s get something to eat,” Bill Nance said.

  “No inside. We eat here.” Travels Far indicated the wide veranda.

  “Fine,” Nance said. “Teresa …”

  Teresa came through the door with big plates of steak and beans. “I heard you talking, Señor. We have plenty for everyone. I’m also making up food bags for them to take with them.”

  “Teresa, you’re always ahead of me. Muchas gracias.”

  “I’m a woman, Señor. It’s my nature to be ahead of you.” Teresa, along with Mary Louise, was handing out plates to each of the Indians, who had moved up to the veranda and were sitting cross-legged, with their backs against the cool stone wall.

  Scott turned to Josh, his eyes twinkling. “You can thank Pat we didn’t cut loose. He recognized you, as you were coming down the Hill.”

  “Aye,” Pat said, “no man sits a horse like you.”

  “Thanks, Pat. I’d been sorely disappointed if you folks had opened up on us.” Josh laughed and said, “I’ve been shot at enough to last me for a while.”

  Bill Nance looked Josh over and said, “You do look like you’ve been beat to here and gone. Why don’t you come over here and sit down in the rocker.”

  Josh smiled. “I reckon that’ll feel mighty good.” He eased his battered frame into the rocking chair. “There were a few moments I figured I was a goner for good. It feels mighty fine to just sit in a chair. What was the dust we saw? It looked like it came from the ranch.”

  “Ruffcarn paid us a visit. Seems he thought he could buy this ranch. You’d think he would’ve figgered out by now that ain’t gonna happen.”

  The Kickapoo were watching the hands as they watered and fed the horses. When the men started to take the saddles off to give the horses a rubdown, the Indians jumped to their feet.

  Travels Far said to Josh, “No take saddles from horses. Not good. We need them ready to leave when we are ready.”

  “They’re just taking them off to give the horses a good rubdown.”

  Travels Far’s voice raised slightly. “No take saddles off.”

  Josh yelled over to the cowhands, “Leave the saddles on. Just make sure they get fed and watered.” He turned back to Travels Far. “The saddles will be left on. We didn’t mean to concern you.”

  Travels Far nodded and spoke to the other men. They talked for a moment, then sat back down and finished eating. When they were finishing, Teresa came back out with a plate stacked high with her apricot fried pies. She took the used plates and handed the big plate of pies to Travels Far. He picked one up and took a bite, then broke into a big grin. Speaking to the other Kickapoo around a mouthful of pie, he passed the plate around. The pies disappeared quickly, the Indians smiling and belching.

  When they were finished, Travels Far stood, along with the other braves. “Food good. Always good to eat beef. Pie was good. But now we must leave.”

  The cowboys brought up the horses with extra bags of grain. Teresa and Mary Louise came out of the house and handed each Indian a food bag.

  “Take five head of our cattle back to your village with you,” Nance told Travels Far. “And anytime you need some beef for your village, cut out what you need. We’re in your debt.” He offered his hand to Travels Far.

  “We may never be friends, Bill Nance, but we will not be your enemy,” Travels Far said as he shook Nance’s hand.

  Josh had moved out of the rocker when Travels Far and his men stepped to their horses. He walked up to Travels Far and placed his hand on his shoulder, “I’ve said this before, but I want you to know that I’m in your debt and that of your village. I thank you, Nadie, and all of your men and your village for saving my life. If you ever need help, let me know. After we’ve settled this problem with Ruffcarn, I’ll be going west to the Colorado mountains. If you are ever there, know I’ll be your friend there also. Thank you.” Josh shook the hand of Travels Far.

  “You are good man. Strong. You make good friend, and I feel a bad enemy. May you have good life.” With that, Travels Far turned, leaped into his saddle, and led his braves out of the yard at a gallop, whooping and brandishing their weapons until they were over the north ridge.

  “I’m glad they’re our friends,” Scott said, as he watched them gallop out of the ranch. “I sure wouldn’t want to meet any of them if they weren’t.”

  “Aye, laddie, that would be no fun,” Pat said. “Now, Josh boy, tell us all about your little adventure.”

  Teresa and Mary Louise had watched the departure of Travels Far and his Kickapoo from the veranda. Teresa marched down into the yard and t
ook Josh by the arm. “Señor Pat, can’t you see the condition Señor Logan is in? He needs a bath, then he needs a bed. If you want to talk to him then … maybe.”

  Bill Nance chuckled and said, “Don’t mess with her, Pat. When she sets her mind to something, it gets done. Josh, go on with Teresa. You look a sight, boy. I’d say you’re a mighty lucky man.”

  “Reckon I am, Bill. They say the Lord looks after children and fools. I’m too old to be a child, so I guess I know where that puts me. But I’ll admit that I’m thankful to be here. I will say, this will result in something mighty bad for the hombre who did this.” Thinking about the shooter, Josh could feel the tingling in his scalp that started just before anger turned to rage. He’d recognized the sensation as a youth, and, since then, he accepted it as a warning and worked hard to tamp down the anger when he recognized it. He became a different man when the rage took him over, and he didn’t much like that man. He took a couple of deep breaths and felt it subside.

  He had to admit, Josh thought, he was getting almighty tired of people interfering with his plans. He wanted to help the Nance family, for they were Rory's folks, but it seemed every turn he took something or someone else was trying to keep him from making it to Colorado.

  Teresa and Josh turned to the house. Josh heard a whinny from the barn. “Teresa, I’ve got to go see Chancy before I go to the house. I haven’t seen that horse in days, and it sounds like he’s been missing me,” Josh said as he turned back to the barn.

  Teresa placed her hands on her substantial hips. “Señor Logan, you need to be in bed. But make it quick, and I’ll get your bath water ready.”