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

by Donald L. Robertson

  “Hot,” Pat said. “California will be a welcome sight. My old eyes will be happy to rest on the ocean and feel those cool breezes. Josh, you should see the land. We’ll have a hacienda looks out over the ocean, with a few cattle and horses. I’ve been fighting now for almost twenty years, and I’m ready for a rest.”

  “You’ll rest for a month, maybe two,” Josh said. “Then you’ll be out looking for some excitement. You’re not ready for a rocking chair, Pat. You’ve too much life in you.”

  “We’ll see laddie. Aye; we’ll see.”

  Several hours later the two men rode into Camp Wilson and past the fort. They rode up to Tiny’s stables and dismounted.

  Tiny walked out, “Well, as I live and breathe, the man is back from the dead. It’s good to see you Josh. Everybody around here thought you were done for. Why, when Bull came riding back into town as big as you please, we figured he had surely drilled you.”

  “He got too close, Tiny. Another half-inch and I’d be coyote fodder. But I’m doing a lot better now.”

  “Aye, he looked pretty bad when he showed up to the ranch,” Pat said.

  “Tiny, do you think you could put our horses up overnight?” Josh asked. “We’re going to pull out again in the morning and head back to the Rocking N.”

  “Why, sure, Josh, I’d be glad to. I’ll make sure they get a good rubdown, then feed them—maybe toss in some oats.”

  “Thanks, Tiny,” Josh turned to Pat. “How’d you like that drink now?”

  “Ah, ‘tis music I’m hearing. Lead on.”

  “You’re gonna make a pretty big commotion when you walk up that street, coming back from the dead and all,” Tiny said.

  Josh pulled his saddle bags from where he’d hung them and slid the Winchester out of its scabbard. He turned and headed out of the stable door.

  Pat picked up his Spencer and joined Josh. They strolled across the street, taking their time. When they came to the Shamrock, they pushed through the door and walked inside. Cecil Starit was facing the other end of the bar talking to the cavalry men who were there. “What’ll it be?” Cecil said as he started to turn towards them. “Why, as I live and breath—Josh Logan! Man, I thought you were buzzard bait. Step yourself up to this bar and have a drink on the house. And how is it that you’re doing, me retired First Sergeant?”

  “I’m living the life, Cecil. Now give me a shot of the best Irish whiskey you have back there. It has been too long since I had a sip,” Pat said.

  When the cavalry men saw who it was, they gathered around Pat laughing, asking questions, and slapping him on the back. “Give me room, lads. I’ll tell you what it is that’s been happening, but let me have my drink,” Pat said.

  “If you’ve got a sarsaparilla, Cecil, that would be mighty good,” Josh said.

  “One sarsaparilla coming up. So, tell me, Josh, how is it that you’re still alive? We all felt sure you were dead, especially after Bull came back into town. That is, all of us except Pat’s sister Fianna. She always believed you were alive.”

  Josh and Pat exchanged glances. Josh looked back at Cecil as he took his first drink of sarsaparilla, then set it down on the bar. “Let’s just say that Bull isn’t the shot he thinks he is, although he did leave me a souvenir.” Josh took his hat off and turned his head so that Cecil could see the deep, hairless, crease along the right side of Josh’s head.

  Cecil whistled, “Boyo, you are one lucky fella.”

  “That I am, Cecil; that I am,” Josh said, then took another long drink of his sarsaparilla.

  “Josh, Jeremiah said that when you came, check with him. He has a message for you from the colonel,” Cecil Starit said.

  Josh finished off his sarsaparilla and slung his saddlebags over his right shoulder. He picked up his Winchester and said to Pat, “You coming with me, or are you hanging around here for a while?”

  “Major, laddie, I best be going with you. I need to see my wee sister.”

  Josh and Pat exited the Shamrock and turned left on the boardwalk for Diehl’s Emporium and Boarding House.

  Fianna was putting canned goods on the shelf behind the counter when they walked in. She was reaching to the top shelf from the stepladder she stood on. Her tall trim figure was stretched, emphasizing her rounded hips, slim waist, and strong shoulders. A trim ankle peaked out from under her dress. Her back was turned, and beautiful auburn hair cascaded over her slim neck. Josh felt the fullness in his chest that he’d felt when he first saw her. What a lovely, special woman she is, Josh thought.

  “I’ll be with you in just a moment,” Fianna said.

  Her voice strummed more strings in Josh’s soul. I’ve got to control myself. Remember what Pat said. “Take your time ma’am,” Josh said.

  Fianna spun around on the ladder. She dropped the carton of canned beans and almost fell. Words came in a rush. “Oh, Josh, I knew you were alive. I just knew it. Everybody said you were probably dead. But I knew you were alive.” She came around the counter and rushed to him. Just before reaching him, she stopped. He had put his gear down and taken his hat off. The proud, hairless scar that ran from just above his ear and coursed down the side of his head shocked her. Then she looked over his face. Most of the swelling was gone, but it was still puffy around his cheeks. She gasped and said, “Oh, you were shot.”

  “I guess I’m just too ornery to kill. It’s good to see you, Miss O’Reilly.”

  Josh could see, first the startled look, then changing to puzzlement, in her lovely eyes.

  Josh continued, “Look who I’ve brought with me.” He stepped aside and Fianna saw the big smile on her brother’s face for the first time.

  She smiled, walked over to him, and gave him a big hug. “So, you big Irishman, you haven’t been taking very good care of Josh, now have you?”

  Pat laughed then said, “It’s him who’s been taking care of me, and a good job he’s done.”

  The Diehls walked in, Mr. Diehl with a cup of coffee in his hand, just as Pat finished. Mr. Diehl exclaimed, “By heavens. Josh, it’s good to see you alive. There were many doubted that you made it, although this young lady always believed you were alive. I’m glad to see you.”

  Mrs. Diehl clapped her hands. “It’s wonderful to see you, Josh. Why, Fianna has been beside herself. I hope you don’t mind an old lady giving you a hug.” She walked over and wrapped her plump little arms around him.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Josh said, a little embarrassed. “Couldn’t let anything happen to me. I wanted some more of that bear sign. Yours is the best I’ve ever tasted.”

  “Then you shall get some. Fianna, would you mind giving me a hand in the kitchen, and I’ll show you how to make doughnuts,” Mrs. Diehl called over her shoulder, already moving toward the kitchen.

  Fianna hesitated, looked toward Josh and then back at the kitchen. She flashed a brilliant smile toward Josh and followed Mrs. Diehl through the dining room and into the kitchen.

  “Mr. Diehl, Pat and I will be needing a couple of rooms for the night if you’ve got them available. We’ll be heading out again in the morning.”

  “Not a problem, Josh. I have a message for you. Colonel Sturgis wants to see you as soon as you get to town. He said that your telegram had been answered.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Diehl,” Josh said. “Mind if I leave my gear with you?” He turned to Pat. “I’m going up to see the Colonel, if he’s still in his office. You care to come along?”

  “No. I’m gonna have a cup of Mrs. Diehl’s fine coffee and talk to Fianna a bit. You go ahead. Anyway, officers always talk easier with other officers.”

  Josh walked out the door and looked straight across to the King 7 Saloon. The doors were closed, and the bright afternoon sun made it difficult to see the interior through the windows. He turned and headed for the fort.

  Chapter 24

  Ruffcarn’s two riders returned from where the rustled cattle had been kept about an hour after Josh and Pat had left. Bankes had just walked out of the ranch hous
e and into the yard when he saw the galloping horses race into the yard. The urgent sound of the horses emptied the bunkhouse. Jake Ruffcarn strode out of the house and up to the riders as they were dismounting.

  “They’re gone, Mr. Ruffcarn. Every blasted head,” the taller cowboy said.

  “What do you mean, gone?”

  “Just that. We got there and Conway and Hawkins were shot dead by the campfire. Conway had two bullets right through his heart—looked like he tried to go for his gun. Hawkins was laid out right next to him, a bullet through the middle of his chest. There was six riders. We found where they had hung, then buried, Felton. We looked all around. There was no sign of the kid.”

  “Gone?” Ruffcarn was beside himself. “Indians?”

  “No, sir, weren’t no Indians what stole those cattle. These was shod horses. Anyway, Comanches would have tortured every single one of them right there. Them Comanches don’t hang folks; they cut ‘em and burn ‘em. These were white men for sure.”

  “Where’d they drive the cattle?” Ruffcarn asked. “Did you follow them?”

  “We did a ways. Looks like they were driving them toward the Rocking N. Also looked like they were attacked by Indians. What was crazy was that other tracks showed that Indians were fightin’ Indians right there. Why, they left several scalped Comanches. Some of the white men were hurt, too. But after the fight, they split up. Part of them drove the herd toward the ranch, and two of the shod horses headed up this way. Indian tracks went east and north. It was sure confusing.”

  “You think it was Nance?” Ruffcarn asked.

  “I sure do. But he had a bunch of riders with him. He wouldn’t leave the ranch without protection, and he had five other riders with him. So he’s hired more riders.”

  Ruffcarn’s face was the color of fresh blood. He was seething. He turned to Bankes. “What do you think, Grizzard? Do you think he’s hired more men?”

  Grizzard mulled the thought over for a moment. “Well, when we were there, Penny came riding up with three more riders. We know that Logan hired Penny and the soldier boy. If you figure Logan is dead, that gives them around eight or nine, counting Nance, and that old Mexican he has working for him, plus the two hands he already had. Anyway you cut it, he has more men now than he had before Logan showed up—and we still don’t know that Logan is dead.” As he made the last statement, Bankes looked over at Bull.

  Bull glared at Bankes for a moment, then he kicked at a rock and said, “He’s dead.”

  Ruffcarn spun around and headed to the house. “Bankes, you and Bull come into the house. The rest of you get your gear and your horses saddled. We’re hitting Nance and we’re hitting him hard.”

  The hands went to the corral and started roping horses. Bankes and Bull followed Ruffcarn into the house. As Bull was closing the door, Ruffcarn kicked a chair across the room and slammed his fist down onto his desk. “I’m tired of this,” he shouted. “We’ve waited too long. I want Nance dead, along with everyone on that ranch—everyone.”

  Bankes’ stoic expression never changed. “You don’t want to do that. You kill those women on that ranch and we’ll all be marked as woman killers. There won’t be a place to hide from here to Montana. And they don’t just hang woman killers. They’ll skin you or burn you alive.”

  Ruffcarn calmed down a little. The thought of being skinned alive put a damper on his enthusiasm. “We’re still attacking that ranch. If we can keep from killing the women, so be it. But if they die in the process, they just shouldn’t have been there.”

  Bull had been standing by the window watching the men saddle the horses and get the needed supplies from the storehouse in the barn. “I’m with you, boss. I think it’s way past time to kill Nance.”

  Bankes slowly turned his head to look at Bull with undisguised contempt. “There’s the man for you, Ruffcarn. He’ll do just whatever you say. But I’ve had it with this outfit. Count out my pay. I quit. I’ve never harmed a woman, and I don’t plan on starting now.”

  Ruffcarn spun on Bankes. “You can’t quit now. The fighting is just starting. I need you here to lead the hands. Bull, go on and get ready We’ll be out in a minute.”

  After Bull left, Ruffcarn said, “I’ll double your pay. In fact, you stay and I’ll cut you in as a partner. We’re going to be rich.”

  “I know all about your gold. Personally, I think both you and Pierce are operating short of a full deck, if you think you’re going to find lost gold in this country. Even if there’s some truth to it, I’m not killing women to get it. I’ve got one hundred and fifty dollars coming. Count it out, and I’ll be on my way.”

  Ruffcarn was mad clean through. His right hand itched. He could almost feel the pressure of the revolver’s grip in his hand. He took a deep breath and tried to relax. He knew Bankes would kill him before his gun ever left its holster. Ruffcarn walked over to his safe, removed the money, and tossed it on the table. “Get off my ranch and never come back.”

  Bankes smiled. “That’s just what I intend to do. Let me give you a word of advice. Don’t mess with Nance. That old ranger is tougher than you’ll ever be.” Bankes picked up his money and sauntered out of the house. Without saying a word to anyone, he got his gear out of the bunkhouse. He went to the corral, saddled his horse, and stepped up into the saddle.

  Ruffcarn could hear Bankes through the open windows.

  “You boys are bitin’ off more than you can chew with this raid. If you’re smart, you’ll git while the gittin’s good. Otherwise, you’ll either be shot dead or stretching a rope. Adios.” Bankes walked the horse out of the corral and turned north, without another word.

  Ruffcarn came out of the house as Bankes was leaving. “Bull, you’re foreman now.” He mounted his horse and said, “We’ll camp on Pecan Bayou tonight and hit them early in the morning. Let’s go.” The fifteen gunfighters and cowhands rode out of the ranch headed for the Rocking N, with Ruffcarn and Westin in the lead.

  Josh stepped up on the porch of the Colonel’s office and opened the door. The sergeant sat behind his desk with several papers in front of him. At the sight of Josh, he stood and said, “Welcome back, Major Logan. Colonel Sturgis is in his office. Just knock and go in.”

  “Thank you, Sergeant,” Josh said.

  He knocked and stepped in the door. Colonel Sturgis looked up from his desk. He stood and walked around his desk to Josh. “Welcome back to Camp Wilson, Major. The rumor was that you were dead. I will say First Sergeant O’Reilly’s sister never accepted that fact. I ran into her several times in town, and she was always asking if any of our patrols had found you. It was my sad duty to tell her no each time. She’s a striking young lady.”

  “Yes, sir, she is,” Josh said. “I was fortunate. Someone ambushed me, and if it wasn’t for the Kickapoos, I’d probably be dead. But they took care of my wounds, and here I am.”

  Colonel Sturgis surveyed Josh’s scar from Bull’s shot. “That was very close, Major. You’re a lucky man.”

  Josh smiled. “You’re the second man to tell me that today, Sir; and as I agreed with him, I must agree with you also. I was very fortunate. Now, Colonel, Mr. Diehl said you had a message for me,” Josh said.

  “Yes, I do. Seems your message kicked over a bucket of red ants back at headquarters. General Sheridan personally sends his thanks and best wishes.

  “Thank you,” Josh said.

  Sturgis continued, “Just reading between the lines, I’d say there’s a colonel in New Orleans who has no future in the army, at best, and may ultimately find himself confined to prison or worse. Seems this colonel not only issued fraudulent purchase orders, but was involved in the selling of contraband, including firearms, to the south during the war.”

  “Have they found out who he was working with?” Josh asked.

  “It seems he had a business relationship with Jake Ruffcarn and Wesley Pierce.”

  “So what does that mean to the Rocking N, Colonel?”

  “Major Logan, it means that I woul
d appreciate your honoring my order for five hundred head of cattle and fifty head of horses to be delivered within the month. There’ll be further orders from Fort Concho, Fort Davis, and Fort Richardson. It’ll be a distance to drive the cattle, but I would imagine, in these times, it’ll be worth it.”

  “Thank you, Colonel Sturgis. This will be good news for Mr. Nance. Also, you should know that Jake Ruffcarn is a rustler. We found where he’d been hiding the rustled cattle from the Rocking N. The men holding the cattle have been dealt with. But one of them told us that they were working for Ruffcarn, and that he planned on rebranding the stock and selling it to the army. He also said that Ruffcarn and Pierce are in cahoots. They think there’s gold on Mr. Nance’s land. Figured to drive him off and take it over for themselves.”

  Colonel Sturgis pulled out a box of cigars from his desk and offered one to Josh. “No thanks, Colonel; don’t smoke.”

  “Nasty habit,” Sturgis said, as he clipped off the ends of the cigar and lit it. “I never liked Ruffcarn nor Pierce. I’ve contemplated, on several occasions, putting the King 7 off limits. Just before you arrived, I dispatched a detail to pick up Pierce and Bartholf. Since Pierce and Ruffcarn colluded to defraud the army, I believe the two of them will spend a long time in prison; and having committed treasonous acts by selling contraband to the enemy, they may both stretch a rope.”

  “Good,” Josh said.

  The two men were interrupted by a knock at the door. “Enter.”

  A sergeant stepped into the office. “Sir, Pierce and Bartholf were gone. No sign of them. Looked like they packed in a hurry and high-tailed it out of here.”

  “Alright Sergeant,” Colonel Sturgis responded. “I know some of the men frequent the King 7. Someone let Pierce know. I want you to talk to those men, find out who told him and if they know where Pierce may be. Also, I want the King 7 boarded up and placed off limits.”