Dark Journey Home

by Cherie Shaw

  CHAPTER 16

  Trudy Perkins, her tears drying now, her soft wavy auburn hair hanging loosely, walked slowly back towards the house, as she thought of how comforted she’d felt, when Cougar Olson had talked to her on the wooden porch of the bunkhouse.

  She’d never had anyone treat her as if she were such a treasure, at least not since her mother had been alive. Cougar had assured her that anything that had gone on, and anything that would happen, had been entirely none of her doing. He said things would turn out alright for her, and had promised faithfully that nothing would happen to her. He would personally see to that.

  Not being sure at all if she believed the promise, but it had made her feel better anyway. Trudy always wore jeans and a shirt around the ranch, and she’d felt no reason to dress up, as her pa, or that monster Holderman, always watched her every move.

  Well, she suddenly felt like putting on her prettiest dress, so as she neared the courtyard in front of the house, she decided that was just what she was going to do; she had a pale green gingham that would do nicely.

  Her father was watching her approach, from the doorway of the courtyard. “Trudy girl, you get yourself in here now.” He shouted. “Just what do you think you were doin’ anyhow, over there talkin’ to them cowhands, I’m still your pa, you know.”

  Ignoring his raving, she continued to move towards the entrance. Just as Perkins opened his mouth to yell again, he looked in the direction of the trail, and noted the approaching four horsemen, escorting the buggy towards the ranch yard. The determined way the four men were riding, he knew right off this spelled trouble. Well, he’d been expecting it.

  Perkins ran and grabbed Trudy’s arm, pulling her into the courtyard, then at once, closed the tall iron gate, and secured the latch. The wall that encircled the courtyard was high, and came up to Perkins’ shoulders.

  He ran into the house and grabbed a Winchester from inside parlor door, his eyes blazing.

  Trudy followed him into the front hallway. “Pa, no!” She yelled.

  “Stay inside, girl.” He ordered. “This is not your affair. This is men’s business.”

  “Pa, you’re being foolish!”

  Ignoring Trudy, he walked back outside; carrying the rifle in his right hand, then peered through the gate.

  Trudy had trailed him back outside, “Pa, don’t you see?” She spoke gently now. “It’s just no use. Besides, that’s Holderman in the buggy and Clayborne Phillips is in the buggy with him.”

  “Clayborne? Yes, it is him.” He turned to look at Trudy. “And it’s a good thing, daughter, that he didn’t come up when you was down there talkin’ to that cowboy, Olson. He wouldn’t have liked that one bit.”

  “Why, Pa, that’s none of Mr. Phillips’ business who I talk to.” She retorted.

  “It is too, daughter. He’s spoke for you. Now, that’s why it’s his business. Now you run along an’ leave men’s business to men.” He turned back to watch through the gate.

  Trudy stared at her father in horror, as she backed away, “Pa, he’s…….he’s too old for me even to think about, besides, I can’t even stand that horrible man. You had no right!” She wailed.

  Perkins spoke over his shoulder, “Now you don’t go against your pa, Trudy girl. He’ll treat you right, an’ some day this ranch will be his.”

  “Pa……..this ranch isn’t even yours.” She shouted, as she turned and ran onto the porch of the house, thoughts of dressing up forgotten, her tears beginning to flow once more.

  As Perkins peered through the iron gate, he noted the two men who had worked for him for a few days, breaking mustangs to the saddle, and wondered what they were doing back here. Surely Holderman hadn’t hired them again. He also noted two strangers, one an older white-haired gentleman, and the other, a big brute of a man.

  Trudy had walked back to stand near her father to try once more to talk some sense into him. “Pa…,” She began.

  Perkins turned to glare at her.

  “Pa, you’re being hasty. Please listen to me, and put down the rifle.” She pleaded.

  “Just what do you know about anything? You’re only a girl. Now, don’t you go against your pa.”

  Trudy took a deep breath, then tried once more, “Come on, Pa, I’ll walk out with you. Let’s just see what they want. Besides, I haven’t told you yet, but I found out that there’s a Texas Ranger out there. He’s in the bunkhouse, talking to the men. They’re listening to him too, and most of them said they wouldn’t go against the law for anyone.

  “They also said that they may ride for the brand, but now they’re not even sure just who owns the brand anyway, Pa.”

  Perkins listened to Trudy, then blustered. “I ain’t afraid of no Ranger! Ain’t no one gonna steal this place from me. You’ll see. My men will back me. Now you just head on into the house and stay outta sight.”

  Trudy stood for one full minute, staring at her father, then turned and walked slowly around the side of the house, towards the back gate. Letting herself out of the yard, she headed for the stable to saddle the pinto mustang, after which she took the back trail, riding towards town. She had one girlfriend in Coyote Springs, she’d known from school, Anna.

  Trudy hadn’t seen her friend for several months, but that was because she’d never been allowed to visit her unless her father, or Holderman, escorted her there and back, and that wasn’t often. She knew Anna would welcome her, although Anna never visited Trudy at the ranch anymore, as Trudy’s father had been so rude, overbearing, and watched every move they made. The one time Anna had visited, she swore that she’d never return. However, she’d always told Trudy to come and stay with her and her folks, in town, as long as she liked, well maybe now she could stay a few days, at least until things were cleared up at the ranch. She now wished she’d had time to pack a small bag. As her tears continued flowing, Trudy urged the pinto into a gallop.

  From the back window of the bunkhouse, Cougar Olson had seen Trudy ride away, as had others in the room. Cougar started for the door, then paused, looking toward Ranger Welby. Welby well understood the situation, and nodded. “Go after her, Olson. We can handle things here.” He said, “At least make sure the girl gets where she’s going safely.”

  Olson hurried to the corral to saddle his horse, after which he took off down the back trail. “Foolish girl.” He thought to himself, “Shouldn’t be ridin’ off alone like that, upset as she is.” He hoped to catch up quickly, and halfway to town, where Trudy had stopped to water and rest her horse, Cougar Olson did just that.

  <><><>

  Woody Perkins watched as Holderman and Phillips climbed down from the buggy they’d been riding in, and started walking toward the house. The only thing wrong with that was that the other four men were well armed, and walking right behind the attorney and the foreman of the ranch. “I’ll bet that white-haired gent is that Englishman, who wants to steal this ranch.” Woody muttered to himself, “I’ll fix him. He won’t get this place, no how. He lifted the rifle, and pointed it through the gate. “Hold it right there.” He yelled.

  “Don’t shoot, Perkins. It’s Holderman and me.” Phillips retorted.

  “Well, you two step aside then. Them folks ain’t comin’ in here. I bought this property fair an’ square. I know what they’re up to, an’ it just ain’t gonna work. It’s gonna be just like them range wars you hear about, an’ I’ll gun down any man who steps inside this courtyard.” Woody insisted, as his voice shook.

  “Let us in the gate Perkins.” Logan spoke now, as they continued to walk towards the house. “Just back up and we all can sit down, and discuss how we are going to settle this situation.”

  “Just where do you fit into this, Wakefield?” Perkins asked. “Last time I saw you and your friend there, you two were bronc busters, headin’ back to town. Come up in the world, have you?”

  “Well, it’s like this, Perkins; you can figure it out, if you’re smart enough. Now step back, and open that gate or we’ll bust it down.” Loga
n turned to Lord Beckford, and added, “Oh, and by the way, in case you haven’t guessed, this is the real owner of the Triple-B Ranch. Let me present Lord Claude Beckford, heir of the property, and never sold it either.”

  “Don’t do it, Woody.” Shouted Holderman.

  “I ain’t lettin’ nobody in. You all just turn around and get outta here, but leave Holderman an’ Phillips. I’ll have a word with them two, what got me into this in the first place, an’ them raking in most of the money.” Woody yelled, as he lifted the rifle higher.

  Holderman stopped walking, and began backing up, but Garth prodded him on with the barrel of his shotgun.

  Logan continued, “Oh and, by the way, Perkins, the big gent with the shotgun, is Lord Beckford’s nephew, Garth Worthington. He gets a little nervous when folks tell him ‘no’. I wouldn’t advise making him nervous. He also gets a little upset, when folks swindle his beloved uncle, but we all told him that he couldn’t shoot you yet, not until we’ve had a chance to sit down and have us a little talk anyway.”

  Ricardo spoke up, “Señor Perkins, if you would just drop the rifle, and look behind you, I think this problem can be solved without any fireworks.” Ricardo was smiling, as the group now reached the entrance to the front courtyard.

  Perkins frowned, “An’ I won’t fall for that either, that’s a kid’s trick. Look behind me, huh? Why? Just what is behind me?”

  Ricardo paused a moment, “Well, for one, Señor, on your left, is the County Sheriff, and on your right, is the well-known Texas Ranger, Jake Welby. Señor Perkins, they both have weapons pointed right at you……for shame……but I would advise, when you turn around, that you do it slowly, and very, very, carefully.

  “You see, Señor, while you have the discussion with my amigo Logan here, the lawmen have been coming in through the back gate, and getting into position. Don’t bother asking how they opened the locked gate either, for the housekeeper, Consuelo, she has been very cooperative, and I believe the very kind Señorita will gladly welcome the rightful heir of old Sam Beckford.”

  Woody Perkins quickly glanced over his left shoulder, then, with an agitated sigh, threw down the rifle, muttering, “Aw Hell, I never killed nobody anyhow. Where’s my daughter. Get Trudy out here.”

  “Your daughter is safe, Perkins.” Sheriff Denton told him, as he walked over to pick up the rifle. “She should be in town by now and well taken care of. We’ll notify her later where you are.”

  Attorney Phillips and Jinx Holderman both glared daggers at the sullen Woody Perkins, as Perkins walked back towards the house. Ranger Welby hurried to the gate, and then unlatching it, allowed the group to enter. When Lord Beckford stepped through the entrance, he scanned the courtyard, his blue eyes gleaming. “By Jove, I do like what old Sam has created here.” He said.

  <><><>

  The housekeeper of the ranch house at the Triple-B, Consuelo Alvarez, had been at the ranch almost since Sam Beckford had first begun to run cattle on the land. Sam and his, at that time, two men, Hank Chavez and Paul Denton, had been riding the plains, one cold winter late afternoon, looking for strays, when they’d come upon Consuelo behind a broken down wagon, with a dead husband, and an arrow protruding from his chest, attempting to defend herself, with an almost empty rifle, against three Comanche renegade Indians. She had two rounds left in the weapon, when the three men rode up, guns blasting at the renegades, as they rode.

  Sam Beckford had immediately taken the widow, Señora Alvarez, back to the ranch, and given her a position as housekeeper and cook. A good cook, she had proven herself a treasure in those lean years. Consuelo had been thankful for her position, and her small room at the back of the house. She had been there ever since.

  The housekeeper now entered the study of the ranch house, carrying a tray of mugs, and a large pot of coffee. She set the tray on the sturdy, well polished mahogany desk, then began pouring coffee, while glancing at the white-haired gentleman, who sat in the leather chair, behind the desk.

  She noted the faint resemblance he had to Sam Beckford, and wondered about that. Not at all liking the blustering, loud and ill-mannered Woody Perkins, she saw how Woody now sat squirming in his seat, next to a red-faced Holderman, and the attorney, Phillips.

  The other men in the room, were strong appearing, and well-armed. After pouring several mugs of coffee, Consuelo walked back to the kitchen, smiling all the way. She only hoped Trudy would return, as she’d seen her leave by the back entrance, then ride away. She liked the lovely Perkins girl, and knew that no matter what was going on with Señor Perkins, that Trudy had nothing to do with any of it. The girl had been straining to get out from under the strong, controlling hand of her father, but Consuelo understood what it was like to be young, and needing the companionship of folks her own age, and she hoped that Trudy would soon have that freedom. The girl did have a head on her shoulders, but only needed the chance to prove it. Consuelo began humming to herself in the kitchen, as she prepared lunch.

  <><><>

  Back in the study, a meeting was going on, with Woody Perkins the center of attention. He was in the midst of ‘telling it all’, amid scowling glances from Holderman and attorney Phillips.

  Logan had found the satchel which had been stashed in the parlor filled with cash, gold pieces, and receipts from past years. Obviously the satchel had been placed there for a quick retreat, in case it was needed. Lord Beckford was going through the papers now and spoke from his seat behind the desk. “It seems that there has been a lot of activity on this place in the past ten years, Mr. Perkins. You say you were under the impression that you bought this place under honest conditions? Explain yourself once more please, as all I have been able to find in all this paperwork, is a receipt for Five-hundred dollars, and signed by Attorney Phillips here. It is dated almost ten years ago, and has an X at the bottom of the page; I take it that is your mark?”

  “Of course, that’s my mark. I ain’t ashamed……never learned to write, or read, for that matter. Phillips here, well, he read it all to me, an’ explained that it was a deed to this here property. Said it would be recorded at the County Courthouse. Never questioned the whys an’ wherefores. All I know, is that them two come to Coyote Springs about the same time, Attorney Phillips setting up an office in town, then after I bought this place from him, he said the conditions of the sale was that Holderman here, be foreman of the ranch, sort of run things, as I hadn’t done too well on my other property.

  “Chester Burns was foreman for Sam Beckford, though, an’ never liked it much when Holderman here took over. He’s been mad ever since, but I had to go along with what Phillips said, cause he said that was part of the deal. Wasn’t up to me to argue.

  “They also, Holderman an’ Phillips that is, took most of the money from the account at the bank, whatever was put in there, as we had a joint account. Gave me a good allowance though, so I had no kick comin’. Guess I didn’t bother to question them too much though, as things were better for me an’ Trudy. Never thought I’d lose the place.” Perkins looked down, wondering why he’d been such a fool. Greed was all he could come up with. Now that he looked back on it, he figured it was too much of a good deal, had known all along that things weren’t right.

  “Let me clarify one thing that may have been overlooked.” Lord Beckford broke in. “In the first place, I would never have sold the ranch that my cousin had worked so hard for. In the second place, I guess Phillips didn’t look over the legal specifics of the will. One of the stipulations of the will, when the property was turned over to me, was that even if I had wanted to, the ranch could not have been sold. That exception to the inheritance was in the main part of the will, and I’m sure that you, Mr. Phillips, knew exactly how that will was written. Sam Beckford had left the property to me, on the condition that I would not sell, transfer, or give the ranch away in any way, except to will it to my heirs. If I had even wanted to sell the property, I could not have done so. There you have it, Mr. Perkins, clear and simple. You were u
sed by these two con men, for their own interests only. The sale, if it had taken place at all, would not have been legal anyway, and from what I see here in all this jumble of paperwork, is only a receipt for some kind of a payment you made to Attorney Phillips.”

  Perkins glared at Holderman and Phillips, as he snarled. “You two crooks set me up, an’ I was too damned dumb to see it at the time.”

  “Shut your mouth, Perkins, or I’ll shut it for you.” Snarled Holderman, half rising out of his chair, “You’re in this just as deep, so don’t go putting the blame all on us.”

  Ranger Welby walked over to stand in front of the two, then said, “You are in no position to be making threats to anyone, Holderman, or Holderness, whatever your name is.” Holderman’s eyes opened wide at the insinuation. Now worried, he sat back down, as Ranger Welby continued, “I did a little investigating before coming here, it was on the way anyway. I stopped at the county courthouse, and of course the only deed on record, for this property, is the one made out to Sam Beckford’s heir, Claude Beckford here. So of course, the deed to the ranch never changed hands, and rightfully belongs to Claude Beckford. We don’t need a court of law to tell us that. You, Phillips, have gone through law school, and should have known better than to pull a scam like this.