Logan's Land

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Logan's Land Page 14

by Serita Stevens


  I put the lunch on the table for Sara but found I couldn’t eat much.

  As if he knew I was thinking about him the door opened and Logan walked in. “Morgan here?” He scowled at me.

  I nodded. “Upstairs.”

  He ran past me, and I shivered with the force of his anger, wondering what would happen if that anger was ever directed against me.

  Wanting to know whether I was the subject of conversation, I left Sara eating and started up the stairs. My heart pounded with each step I took as I worried if I was doing the wise thing by eavesdropping. But I had to know what was happening and what Logan knew.

  As I reached the landing, I removed my shoes so my steps wouldn’t be heard echoing on the polished wood floor. I felt sure that every noise, every creak of the floorboards was magnified. Edging up into the third floor I realized that the study door was opened a crack and that Logan was in full view from where I stood. If I could see him, then he, no doubt, could see me.

  With my blood rushing in my ears, I took a deep breath and leaned against the wall, trying to make myself small. I was certain the conversation had something to do with Elliot for they were talking about gold and the government agent.

  “I don’t want anything said to her,” Logan’s voice carried across the hall.

  I couldn’t hear Morgan’s response. His back was to me. But somehow the subject changed for the next word I heard was rope. What did that mean? Hanging rope? Was that how my brother had died? I thought of that scene on the road and my stomach felt ready to rebel.

  “And what do you intend to do about her?” Morgan asked his brother, his voice barely audible.

  I felt panic as Logan’s gaze seemed to fall on me. Did he see me? If so, he gave no indication.

  “Shoot her.” Logan replied. “It’s the only humane thing.”

  “Is it?”

  My heart went to my throat.

  But just then from down below I heard the damn cat wailing again. My heart sank to my feet and settled in my stomach as the blood rushed to my face. I knew that Sara had caught it by the tail again and I knew, too, that if I did not hurry down my presence up here would be discovered, for she would not have had an opportunity to get the cat if I had been in the room.

  Worried, I inched out of my hiding place and saw that Logan had turned his back on me momentarily just as the cat screeched again. Praying that I would not be seen, I quickly ran out of the doorway niche and down the stairs.

  Only as I reached the dining room, more breathless than before, did I pause to ponder Morgan’s words. I told myself that my brother-in-law, if he was truly working with Clay to discover Logan’s secret, would protect me. But for how long, I wondered, would he be able to divert Logan from his dastardly plans? It was a race between me and Logan as to who would achieve their goal first – his life or mine.

  I feared it would only be a matter of time before Logan decided he had finished toying with me and have me killed as he had my brother.

  If he learned that I planned to pass on whatever I discovered to the sheriff, it would not be enough to simply have married me for my silence. He would have no choice but to kill me.

  Reaching Sara, I picked her up and pulled her away from the cat. The animal scampered outdoors towards the woodpile.

  Taking my shawl and Sara’s, I led her outside. Neither of us had gone out today and I needed some air. Besides which I did not want to be in the house when Logan finished his conversation.

  My first vision of the land and space beyond the back of the ranch house was one of breathtaking beauty. Dark green trees slashed the brilliant blue sky. The mountains beyond us rose to majestic heights, meeting the white clouds. The air, crisp and clear, kissed the snowy tops like an artist’s dream and continued down to the tall grasses waving in greeting. I would hate to see them turning brown.

  I would have been content to stand there and absorb the beauty, but Sara kept tugging at my dress.

  “Horse.” She pointed toward the corral where one of the animals was now being put through his paces by a tall chocolate-colored man with kinky hair that had long since turned gray. His rawhide chaps, which covered patched Levis, were well-used.

  “Lordy be, Memphis.” He spoke to the gray in a musical voice. “Come on now. ‘Tain’t too bad.” He clucked his tongue.

  The horse snorted and shook his head. The lathered withers indicated that he’d already had a good workout.

  I stared at the man a moment and then again at the horse. It surprised me that Logan would trust the breaking in of an animal that looked so valuable to a man with such big limp hands and huge feet. I was surprised that he didn’t fall all over himself as he walked, but indeed, his gait was as good or better than the animal he trained.

  “Mornin’, ma’am.” He tilted his Stetson to me and then nodded to Sara.

  “Ride.” Sara tugged at his well-mended jacket. “Mr. Sparks, ride.”

  “Sara, darling,” I tried to pull her away.

  He gave me a slow rich grin. “Don’t matter none, missus. Be happy t’give little Sara a ride.”

  “But I... ” It hardly seemed likely to me that a child of Sara’s age would be able to ride a horse.

  It took me a moment to realize what he was doing as the huge man bent down on all fours for Sara to climb on. Her tiny arms went around his neck and she clung on as he rose slowly, imitating a horse about to buck.

  “You hang on there, girl?”

  “Do,” Sara responded.

  I couldn’t help but smile as Mr. Sparks, for I assumed that was his name, and Sara “galloped” about the yard until she was breathless with laughter.

  When the couple halted in front of me, Sara held out her arms for me to take her.

  “Thank you. I hope we didn’t take up too much of your time.”

  He smiled. “Memphis wanted a rest.”

  I glanced toward the horse. It dawned on me that neither Sara, nor evidently Logan, treated this man as I’d seen others of his kind treated in the city.

  “Have you worked here long?”

  He shrugged. ‘Lordy, missus, seems I’ve worked here ever since crossin’ the Jordan.”

  ‘What?’

  “My pappy done worked for Mastuh Logan’s pappy afore the war. Then when we got our freedom, we comes back here.” His thumbs stuck out from his suspenders proudly. “I’s a free man and Mastuh Logan’s a’ helped me t’learn m’letters.”

  “Oh.” I glanced back at the house momentarily. My new husband certainly was a contradiction. Perhaps he had some ulterior motive for helping this man and his family. For I knew, despite the way my body responded to him, that he was a murderer.

  Sara reached her hand toward the bunkhouse. “Sweet.”

  Mr. Sparks grinned and nodded. “Yep. I got sumthin for you, little missy.” He nodded towards the young boy helping him. “You get him going again. I be right back, Ike.”

  The boy nodded and the three of us walked towards the bunkhouse.

  The building was a good ten feet square. In the center of the whitewashed room stood an uneven table and lantern. The sawdust floor had an odor that I cared not to think about as my eyes took in the dung-encrusted work boots and the various male articles spread about the bunks. There was definitely a masculine odor here.

  Combined with that of the ill-smelling kerosene lamp, it was almost more than I could take. I looked at the table again. I suspected that most of the men’s free time was taken up with cards and looked towards the wall where several Winchester rifles hung.

  “Are those loaded?”

  “No, ma’am. Don’t got no ‘munition for ‘em here. That’s kept at the big house.”

  “I see.” I continued to study the room. Had Elliot stayed here? Had my brother slept in one of those beds?

  Taking a deep breath, I turned toward the black man. But before I could speak, he grinned at me. “You know, youse reminds me of someone I once knowed.”

  “Oh?” My heart stopped a moment. “Who
?”

  Sparks continued to stare at me and then shook his head. “Darndest thing. Looks a lot like you. Got the same red curls, jist like the clay in Georgia where me Pappy were. Course I guess don’t mean nuthin’.”

  “No, I guess it doesn’t. What was his name?”

  “Don’t remember. Worked here only a few months as I recall. Real nice fellow.”

  “What happened to him?” I was trying to keep calm, but if he thought I looked like Elliot, then others must have noticed the similarities, too. There seemed nothing I could do about that though.

  “Moved off somewhere. Drifter. Said he had somethin’ to find.”

  “Did he say what?” I didn’t want to betray my need to know and yet I couldn’t help my curiosity.

  “Sweet.” Sara reached her arm out again as she pointed toward what I assumed was Spark’s bunk.

  The large room had been divided into two sections to give some semblance of privacy, I guessed. Or perhaps it was that not all the men were as tolerant as Logan seemed to be and they didn’t want to sleep in the same room as a black man.

  We proceeded to the smallest of the two areas where Mr. Sparks put his large hand into a bedroll at the foot of his bed. “Got some licorice candy right here. Bought it in the store, I did, little miss.”

  Sara ran for it and reached out for it. But he held it up away from her. His wise brown face glanced over at me. “Not yet, Miss Sara. Not yet. Gotta ask yer new ma.” He smiled his toothless grin at me. “She eat her lunch good?”

  Sara nodded vigorously and then turned to me. Reluctantly, I also nodded. I didn’t like the idea of staying here any longer because I didn’t want Mr. Sparks to remember who it was that I looked like. Yet, I wanted to gather as much information as I could about my brother’s stay here.

  “Come on, honey.” I took my stepdaughter’s hand and led her back into the sunlight as she sucked on the black candy.

  Blinking with the brightness, I turned to see that Mr. Sparks had followed us out.

  “If I wanted to ride to Brentwood Pass, how long would that take me?”

  He shrugged. “Lord have mercy! That’s not a ride you wants to go on by yourself. Would hardly be a short haul. Two. Maybe three hours. Depends on the horse and trail. Certain times of year it gets awful muddy like. What you want t’go there for?”

  I turned in the northerly direction again and thought about my brother. “I heard that it was beautiful up there.”

  He paused and looked towards the north. “That it is, for sure. But there are bears and rattlers. Not many mind you, but there be some. Course with the stream and all,” he sighed. “Yep, it sure is pretty.” He turned back to me. “You let me know if’n you wants t’go. I’ll be sure t’saddle up with you ‘Tain’t a place for a lady like you to be alone, for sure.”

  “Yes.” I nodded. “I’ll let you know.”

  Taking Sara, I started back toward the kitchen and paused. “Mr. Sparks ...” My heart pounded. I knew I was on shaky ground by mentioning this, but I had to know. “About that man. Could he name have been Edwards?”

  He shrugged and smiled at me, the yellow stain of his teeth almost ivory in the sun. “Could’ve been. Don’t rightly recall now. You knows ‘im?”

  I flushed. “I knew someone who’d come out West here, but I’m sure it’s not the same person. Come to think of it, I don’t know if Elliot would have made it this far.” I felt my lie betrayed by the trembling in my voice.

  Rather than risk revealing more. I nodded to him and hurried Sara towards the house.

  Chapter 18

  Logan was still in the house when we reentered.

  “Getting yourself familiar with the property?”

  I nodded.

  “Good.”

  My stomach tightened but I put my fingers around an empty cup and filled it with coffee. “I’d like to take Sara on a picnic tomorrow.”

  “That’s a mighty fine idea.” He reached up and touched my hair causing the now familiar sensation to flood me. I knew he was trying to unbalance me, but it was hard to think with his hand burning my skin as it did. “Maybe I’ll just go with you.”

  “No... I — ”

  He drew himself closer to me and as his lips met mine. I found my arms going around his neck in a way I had promised myself they would not.

  Suddenly, he lifted me up in his arms and was carrying me towards the bedroom.

  “Just where are you taking me?” I tried to push him away and angry that I had allowed myself to be swayed by his kisses.

  “Where do you think?” He laughed. The sounds echoed through his chest.

  “But Sara is — ”

  Logan’s lips grazed my brow. “It’s mighty fine of you my new little wife, to be so concerned with Sara. But she’ll be just fine with Henry taking care of her.”

  “But I... ”

  He kicked the door to our room open and I could only stare at the bed and feel myself go cold inside, all the while hanging on to him for dear life.

  Just the thought of that made me want to laugh at the irony. Not an hour ago, I’d overheard him telling Morgan that he’d have to kill me and here I was hanging on to him and about to make love... no, it was not love because I did not love him. This was purely animalistic response.

  I closed my eyes as he laid me on the bed. Whatever I did, I told myself, was merely for my survival. The longer I survived this, the more chance I had to get the information I needed and to escape.

  The bed creaked slightly as he lay down next to me, pressing against me as his lips took mine again and his hands cupped my breasts, slowly undoing each button. It was just what I imagined Chinese water torture would be... I waited for his movements, trying not to betray my fear.

  He moaned softly as his lips now touched my burning skin and nibbled gently on my exposed breast causing me to gasp with the pleasure.

  “Don’t you... have to work... on the fences?”

  “Man’s gotta think of other things, too, Lisa.”

  I stiffened for a moment, wanting to pull back, but not daring to. Only Elliot and young David had ever used that name.

  He kissed my earlobe and his tongue darted in and out of the shell driving me wild. I had told myself I would feel nothing, but I found my body would not keep the vow my mind had made and I arched towards him, heedless of anything but the devilish pleasure that I had experienced the other night.

  “Where... why... are you... calling me... that?” I finally managed to ask.

  His satisfied groan as his lips touched my naked breasts once more was all the answer I received and soon my body’s confused joy made me forget my question. I moaned as his rough beard caressed my sensitive breasts and hardened my nipples. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see his face. Knowing that I was responding as he wished was bad enough. I didn’t have to see him.

  I was scarcely aware that he’d lifted my chemise and removed my muslin drawers. His warm hand on my thigh startled me so that I jumped — closer into his arms. He laughed heartily as if he thought it was the most wonderful thing. And as his fingers inched up my legs warmth flooded me. It wasn’t long before his hand found what it sought. Gently, he began a teasing, circular motion that caused me to gasp. I tried to move away, but I could not. He held me tight with the other hand and I found myself a prisoner of the passion he was unleashing within me.

  Swirling sensations flowed through me and I felt as if I were falling.

  “Please... I... ”

  The words would not come and even as he paused, giving me a moment to breathe, I knew without opening my eyes that he had not finished torturing me. Didn’t he understand how he was humiliating me? Or perhaps he did.

  Once again, his hand began to move against me, pressing and pausing and pressing again so that I could hardly breathe as I felt the wave of pleasure wash over me. Then suddenly I gasped sharply as his fingers found my center.

  “Oh... Logan.”

  “That’s it, love. That’s my name. Come on, darlin
g.” He urged me on as he continued to caress me.

  “Logan.” I could barely speak, let alone think, as my body flushed with unbearable heat. Once more I arched and this time, he held me down like a cowboy subduing a wild bronc.

  Only when the wave subsided, and I again had a moment to rest, did I open my eyes to look at him.

  He kissed my lips gently and then moved down to my nipples, sucking for a moment, before moving his mouth lower.

  As his hands cupped my bottom, I heard my own moan. His tongue darted in and out, touching me in such a way that I felt as if I was being driven crazy. Why was he doing this to me?

  I struggled to free myself from him, but my movements only intensified the feeling that was sweeping over me and caused me to crave him even more.

  “Please...” I called out hoarsely as the pleasure hit once more.

  I closed my eyes, feeling a momentary respite, but was too exhausted to speak. I felt Logan lie down beside me, felt his soft dark hair as he rested his head against my breast.

  I told myself I was numb now, and that I didn’t care what he did to me or when. But I was not prepared for the overwhelming sensation which rushed in as his mouth met mine and once more, he touched my center. I inhaled sharply as he slid into me, joining me with him as he had the night before.

  He lay there silently within me for a moment. Then slowly he began to move. As Logan’s tempo increased, he held onto me, cupping my backside, pulling me to him with his strong hands. I wanted to scream out in pain, but there was no pain, only pleasure. As he continued his rhythm, I found myself joining him, arching towards him and clinging desperately to him as the sea of his passion overwhelmed me. He held me as if he never wanted to let me go.

  His lips met mine in the final moment and his fingers dug into me. For a fleeting instant I wanted him as badly as he wanted me.

  Then, like a leaf fluttering to earth after a wind, he calmed and so did I. But it took several moments of silence before he rolled off me and urged me to nestle my head against him.

 

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