Dark Journey Home

by Cherie Shaw

  Just as Hank was telling once more about the early years, Chester stepped through the doorway, saying, “Now isn’t this a nice little get-together? Wish we all had time to linger over mealtime like this, and listen to the ramblings of an’ old fuddy-duddy. You men won’t get paid come payday, if you don’t hightail it back to work.” With that he stomped back outside. Logan chuckled, finished his coffee, figuring Chester and Jinx Holderman sure deserved each other, two of a kind. Well maybe. Then again maybe not.

  As Logan followed Ricardo out the doorway, to return to the stable, they heard the loud clatter of a buggy being driven at top speed, then noted a shiny black coach pulling quickly up before the walled-in courtyard of the mansion amid swirls of dust. The overworked grey horse was panting and shaking, but the man in the dark brown tweed suit ignored the tired horse and jumping down from his seat, hurried through the gate of the courtyard.

  Holderman immediately exited a small building nearby, which Logan had figured to be his office, along with a supply room attached at the side. The foreman hightailed it over to follow the man in the tweed suit into the courtyard. Holderman’s usual mean expression was still in place.

  “Something’s up. Wonder what it is.” Logan spoke to Ricardo. Jake gave Logan a curious look that said a lot, as he then walked away heading for the stables.

  Ricardo then left to go back to work at the corral, knowing his amigo would follow when he was good and ready.

  Logan casually sauntered over to the newly arrived carriage to then lead the over-heated gray horse to the water trough. He loved horses, and didn’t take kindly to they’re being mistreated. He waited while the horse drank his fill, hoping to hear voices from the inside of the house, but hearing nothing, he figured the walls were thick to keep the house cool in the heat of summer, and warm in the winter.

  As soon as the horse had finished drinking, Logan took a hold of the halter, then led horse and carriage over to the cool shade of the huge spreading branches of a mesquite tree, which was about twenty feet from the two-story mansion.

  He walked over to the stable for a bucket and rag, then to the pump in the yard to work the handle filling up the bucket with cool water, after which he returned to the horse. Dipping the rag into the bucket, he began the process of cooling down the horse’s sides and neck with the wet rag, as good as possible, being as it was still harnessed to the buggy.

  Holderman and the man in the tweed suit came walking quickly over from the courtyard.

  “Say there, just what do you think you’re doing?” The man shouted, his wrinkled face reddening.

  “Just tendin’ the horse here, sir.” Logan drawled, as he dropped the rag into the bucket. He then straightened and looked the man in the eye, adding, “If you’re to be headin’ out, with this animal in the condition he was a minute or two ago, he’d never of made it down the road. You’d been stranded with a dead horse on your hands, mister, and no other transportation around, unless you’re takin’ to hitchin’ your own self up to the buggy, and pullin’ it the rest of the way to wherever you’re headin’.”

  The irate man turned to Holderman demanding, “Just who is this brash impertinent man? One of your ranch hands?” He shouted at Holderman.

  Well, Jinx Holderman doesn’t like being shouted at, he usually does the shouting himself. And also, mean as he usually was, he still didn’t like mistreatment of horses either, so surprising Logan in his retort, he said, “Now Claybourne, don’t get your dander up. The man is just tending your horse. He does have a point you know. You’ve never been one to go easy on horses, and one of these days, you will be stranded with a dead one on the trail. Then what’re you going to do.?”

  So this is that smart lawyer from town, Logan thought. Well, he’s not so smart after all.

  Holderman then motioned Logan away, dismissing him altogether, as Mr. Lawyer Claybourne Phillips, jumped into the buggy, and taking up the reins, turned the buggy around to speed off in the direction from which he’d come.

  Holderman stood there watching him leave, then taking a puff from the cigar he’d had in his mouth, he threw it down in the dust, and walked back towards the courtyard of the house.

  Logan headed back to work and wished he knew what was going on.

  CHAPTER 11

  The main street of Coyote Springs was one busy place. Supplies were being loaded into buckboards, boardwalks swept, flowers and other plants watered, and ladies shopping at the mercantile, along with other shops on the main street of the picturesque little town. The blacksmith was busy making loud noises in his shop, while the hotel restaurant was serving late lunches. Olivia and Maria had just exited that establishment after having had lunch with Olivia’s uncle Claude, and were now headed across the dirt road to do some shopping at the mercantile, then possibly check out some of the other places.

  They entered the mercantile, walking directly towards the counter. Lulu spotted them immediately, and put on a smile of greeting, hoping against hope that Maria wouldn’t recite another one of her recipes, which she had been doing on her daily trips to the store, though maybe she would mention where the older wealthy rancher, Olivia’s uncle, had been spending his time. She hadn’t seen him for a while.

  Lulu put on her most gracious business smile, “Hello ladies. What can I assist you with today?” She began, as they approached the counter.

  Olivia quickly answered, “I believe I’ll just look around for a few minutes, if you don’t mind. I’m not at all sure of what I need yet.”

  Lulu heaved a sigh of relief, only to be disappointed by Maria’s sudden statement, “Señora, I just remembered a tasty recipe I haven’t shared with you as yet. I’ll recite it, and you can just write it down, as my friend Olivia decides what it is she is looking for.”

  As Lulu rolled her eyes, grabbed a pencil, and began writing. Maria began reciting yet another of her favorite recipes. Olivia walked back around the store, grinning to herself. Even after the long lecture she had given Maria, it hadn’t done a bit of good. Her friend was enjoying too much, the discomfort of the older brash red-haired lady, who had designs on Olivia’s uncle Claude, and was now clerking in her sister’s mercantile.

  Olivia and Maria, hadn’t noticed, as they had crossed the main street to the shops, the skulking figure of a man standing in the shadow of a doorway watching the two women crossing the road.

  Henry J. Adams, alias Henry Birch, had smiled grimly to himself, as he watched Olivia. “It won’t be much longer, my lovely Olivia.” He had murmured to himself. “We were meant to be together, and it will happen. Have no doubt about it. No matter how far you travel, I will always be right there to receive you to, my heart. I need you, and of course, my traveling funds are dangerously low, so the time should be getting near to our joining. Be patient, my dear, it will be soon.”

  But of course, Olivia had no idea that Henry was anywhere near, and was enjoying the afternoon with her friend Maria.

  Back in Lord Claude Beckford’s hotel room, across the road, the older man had been gazing out of the small window as he held the lace curtain aside, watching the hustle and bustle of what was going on in the street below his second floor room. As he noted Olivia and Maria walking to the shops, weaving back and forth in between buckboards, horse-drawn carriages, and men on horseback, his eyes caught the figure of a man dart into a doorway, then as the ladies had entered the mercantile, the fellow reappeared, glancing furtively down the road, then began walking down the boardwalk to the opposite end of town.

  Claude was shocked. There was no mistaking the familiar walk, or the out of shape figure of Henry Adams. Claude wished right at that time, that Logan and Ricardo would return quickly from the Triple-B ranch. Didn’t they have enough problems with the ranch, without the added peskiness of Mr. Henry Adams? And just what was he up to anyway? He should know by now, that no matter what he did, Olivia would never have a thing to do with him. Was he that ignorant, or in his twisted little mind, did he really feel that he still had a chance?r />
  Claude walked over to his valise, took out his new gun belt, strapped it on, and then made sure that the colt six-gun was fully loaded. He would keep it at hand at all times now. Glancing out the window again, he noted that Henry was almost out of sight, though seeming to be headed in the direction of the boarding house down the road. Possibly that would be where he was staying.

  Claude turned away from the window, then heard the loud rumble and screech of an approaching stagecoach. He glanced out again, just as the vehicle came to a stop amid swirls of dust, in front of the hotel/stage stop.

  Several local men ran from the board walkway to assist passengers, then help in the unloading of valises, trunks, and other luggage from atop the stage. It seemed that the arrival of the stage into town drew much attention. Even Claude watched from his window on the second floor. He wondered why little things like this now held his interest, when to be honest he usually wouldn’t have given the occurrence a second thought. After all, Claude Beckford owned a whole fleet of cargo and passenger ships, along with warehouses situated all over the various ports of the world.

  He shook his white head, and chuckled to himself, as he thought of the flirtatious, red-haired Lulu, and her scheming ways. If she only knew. But then Claude wasn’t the kind of wealthy man who wore diamond stick-pins, rings, or fancy watches. Not advertising his wealth, he was a down-to-earth ordinary chap, though a very attractive older man, who just so happened to be a very wealthy man, and he had worked hard all of his years for what he had, building up a small business to a very large world-wide industry.

  The woman, Lulu, probably thought he was indeed a western rancher. Claude could easily buy most ranchers out, ten-thousand times over, and never blink an eye. The amount wouldn’t even make a dent in his vast holdings. Well, maybe she could flirt with one of the locals. Surely someone would appreciate her efforts. Although Claude ignored society groups of London, he thought it would be funny to thrust someone like Lulu into their midst. He chuckled again at that thought. He had to admit that she was a very colorful lady, to say the least, if he could use the term ‘lady’ so loosely.

  Well, Claude had had many a close call, along with much experience in dodging the various techniques of scheming female fortune hunters, though this lady was much more obvious and forward than most. Her track record at keeping husbands at hand wasn’t all that good either. She must have been quite hard to live with, to say the least.

  His nephew, Garth, would get a kick out of hearing the story of Lulu. He was sure that, given the chance, Olivia would inform Garth of how she and Maria had to save her helpless uncle from the clutches of the female ‘fatale’. They were ready to literally lay down their lives for his salvation. Anyway, he had been avoiding the local mercantile, knowing she was now clerking there, her sister being the owner.

  Speaking of his nephew, as Claude watched the passengers leaving the stage, the first lady to be assisted down from the vehicle, was a beautiful redhead, and Claude thought she looked a lot like Bridgett, Garth’s wife.

  “Wait a minute, what the …………” He breathed. Then, “Well what do you know?” He watched closely as Garth himself, bushy auburn beard, grinning from ear to ear, exited the rustic stagecoach.

  Lord Claude Beckford headed for the door of his room, hurriedly walked to the stairway after locking the door, then grinning all the way across the lobby and out the front hotel doorway and onto the boardwalk, he happily welcomed Garth and Bridgett to the picturesque little town of Coyote Springs, Texas, U.S.A.

  “By Jove, will you just look at what the gale blew in?” He began, as he slapped his nephew on the shoulder, then gave him a big bear hug. Bridgett got a hug and a kiss on the forehead.

  “Good to see you too, Uncle.” Garth laughed, putting his big muscular arm around his uncle’s shoulders.

  Claude just shook his white head of thick wavy hair, and said, “How in bloody hell did you two manage to head out west? Though you are so welcome, more than you know at this point. Just as soon as we get you checked into a room, there is a lot to tell.”

  Garth patted his massive abdomen, and said, “I believe a good meal would be about the first thing that Bridgett and I would like to order, Uncle. The menus that were available during our journey here were not in the best of taste, and I believe that at some stage stops, they just scraped some of the sawdust off the floor and heated that. I just hope the meals here are better.”

  Claude laughed, “A nourishing meal is just what you will get, and yes, the food here at the hotel restaurant actually is better than to be expected. Now tell me just how you managed to get here so quick. I just received the cable you had sent right after we left, although the clerk at the hotel desk had held it for me all this time, then almost forgot to give it to me when we did arrive.”

  “Actually Bridgett and I decided to leave right after you did, and I sent you the first telegram upon hearing about Captain Devlin’s arrest. I had kept in touch with the authorities in New York, and then I sent you another telegram from one of the stops along the way. We left New York three days after your departure.” Then Garth continued on a more serious note, “My instincts are usually right, guess I take after you in that respect, Uncle Claude, and visiting the ‘wild west’ part of this country just seemed the right thing to do at the time. Tell me if I was wrong, and also tell me why you are still in town, and not at your ranch?”

  “That subject, my lad, shall wait until you two are settled here, freshened up, and had a good meal. The dining room here is quite nice, and we can visit there while we have our after dinner coffee.” At Garth’s raised eyebrows, Claude laughed, “Oh yes, I drink coffee here in the territories, actually more than tea now, although Olivia still prefers tea.”

  Garth chuckled deeply, “Actually I prefer coffee also now, got into the habit after hauling goods from some of those South American countries, especially the flavors from Brazil. Nothing like those. I’ve heard that the cowhands out here in the west like their coffee strong enough to sink ships, just as long as those ships don’t belong to either one of us.” Then he looked around and asked, “By the way, where’s Olivia?”

  “Now wouldn’t you just know that a lady would be shopping on such a fine afternoon?” Claude answered.

  With a twinkle in his eye, the auburn bearded Garth replied, “We are not talking about Olivia, now would we be? Uncle Claude, my sister would be the last person to be shopping, especially on such a hot dusty day as this. She is one of a kind, and not usually taken to shopping, though if you say so, then I’ll just have to believe you, and although you may think this is a fine day, I call it ‘bloody well hot’.”

  Just then Bridgett leaned over and mentioned, “Isn’t that your sister crossing the road right now, dear?”

  Olivia and Maria had heard the noisy stagecoach roll into town, and as some of the other customers had done, they had gone outside to watch as the passengers exited the stage.

  That is, they had exited the mercantile after Maria had finished reciting to Lulu, her favorite recipe for tortilla soup, topped with crushed jalapeño peppers, amid Lulu’s animated protests that she had enough recipes to last her for the duration of life on earth. Olivia had made a mental note to have another serious talk with her friend.

  Once across the road, the two women were delighted to see that Olivia’s brother and sister-in-law had arrived via the stagecoach. Getting situated on Claude’s ranch, the Triple-B would only be a matter of days now, with Garth here. Things would work out.

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  It was the morning of their fourth day at the ranch, and Logan and Ricardo had been working hard during their three full days, though Logan still hadn’t met the ‘supposed’ owner of the spread. Chester had informed them both the night before, that Holderman needed them out on the range now. Most of the mustangs on hand had been broke to the saddle, and the roundup would begin soon.

  Logan had been ordered to head up to the north range, and Ricardo to the southern pastures. Being
aware that no more progress would be made, and not wanting to be sent so far from the main ranch buildings, also feeling that they had learned enough for now, they figured it was time to head back to town with the bit of information that they had garnered from Hank, the windy cook. Logan’s friend, Jake, would be staying on at the ranch, undercover working as a ranch hand, though would manage to contact Logan in a few days, to set up a time to bring Claude and Olivia to the ranch. The time had to be right for Lord Beckford to step in and take possession.

  They went ahead and had breakfast with the remaining hands at the ranch, nodded a farewell to Hank the cook, and an appreciation for the good meal, then hurried over to the stable to saddle up their horses. After picking up their gear from the bunkhouse, they hunted up Chester to collect their pay, and to inform him that they had to head back to town. The job just wasn’t working out for them, and anyway that they only had needed to make a few extra dollars.

  “Holderman’s not going to take kindly to you two just walking out on us like this, with a roundup beginning.” Chester grumbled, as he grudgingly counted out the few dollars they each were owed, along with a small bonus they’d been promised for taming the dozen or so, mustangs they’d worked with. “You’re lucky you’re getting paid at all.”