Logan's Land

by Serita Stevens

  I looked about the room, sensing there was more I needed to know and yet not really sure where to look.

  If I could only find the land claim book it would prove beyond a doubt that Logan had killed my brother and confiscated his claim.

  Determined I got down on my hands and knees and began to search every book from the bottom of the row on up. Dust got into my eyes and my nose, forcing me to sneeze.

  But there was nothing out of the ordinary, nothing which looked like the claim books I had seen in the bank. Yet I knew it had to be there.

  Angry and upset with myself for failing at my task, I knew that it would be a while before I’d get entrance to this room again and so I began to walk around the walls carefully, looking for a secret hiding place.

  It was then I heard the door below slam shut and vibrate through the house.

  Henry was back! I had been so lost in my thoughts that I’d forgotten about him!

  Momentarily, I froze. What should I do? Where should I go? I could flee back to my room, but that was at the far end of the second floor. If he headed upstairs I’d require an excuse for being here. But what? I paced the floor for a moment.

  I heard his steps on the uncarpeted stairs and knew he was indeed coming up to the third floor. My blood chilled for just a second as quickly I sought a place to hide.

  It was then I saw the brass doorknob unobtrusively jutting out from the bookend. Had I not been so desperate, I might never have noticed it. Indeed, I hadn’t seen it in my first or my second search of the room.

  Yanking on the knob, I prayed for a place to hide, a place that would keep me safe until Henry once again went downstairs.

  The knob would not budge.

  Henry’s steps were coming closer. Any moment now he’d open the door and see me here. What excuse could I give?

  I thought frantically even as I tried to find a way to get this door open. I did not even know where it might lead and only hoped that I would be safe.

  Twisting once more, I heard a crack and realized that the door had warped. Only now was it pulling open. My muscles still ached some from my fall and ached even more as I pressed them further into action. Then, inch by inch, the door slowly opened. The room beyond was pitch-black but it looked large enough to accommodate me.

  Breathing hard, I squeezed in and thanked God that I was not massive like Ma Peters or Theora.

  With difficulty, I guided the door shut again, cutting off all light within. I’d think of escape later. But that was not an issue now. The steps were coming closer and I couldn’t allow Henry to find me in the study snooping.

  No sooner had I sealed myself in this tomblike room than I heard Henry’s muffled voice cursing. “There you are, you damn things!” I heard the jangle of the key ring as he grabbed them up and I was glad I had forgotten them on the desk.

  There was no noise for a moment more. Did Henry suspect an intruder? I pressed my ear to the door but heard nothing.

  Why didn’t I hear steps leaving? Was he waiting for me to reveal myself? Did he plan to stay there all night?

  I held my breath as I continued pressing my ear to the door waiting for some signs of life in the room beyond, for a sound that would tell me if the room was safe or not.

  I stiffened a moment as a drawer opened and shut. Was that the same drawer I had been in? Did Henry know I had seen Elliot’s things? Was he going to report to Logan? That was, of course, the reason he had been left behind – to spy on me. Logan’s protest about Henry’s age didn’t fool me, but I prayed that I had fooled him.

  Henry clucked softly to himself. Then rattling the keys again, I heard his steps start toward the door.

  My heart was still beating rapidly. My breath came uneasily. The closeness and dankness of the room made me shiver, but I didn’t dare leave until I heard no other sounds to let me know it was all clear.

  I slid down the wall and found a spot to wait even as palpitations pounded in my ears.

  I had no idea of how much time passed, but I heard my stomach growling. Since I’d eaten little that morning, I decided I had to return to the lower floors now. But even as I felt around for the doorknob on this side, my shackles rose, ‒there was nothing here!

  How could that be?

  Only then did I sense the sticky feeling as spider webs clung to me. My mind envisioned dreadful things.

  Had I sealed my own doom? I held back the forming tears. This was not how I’d expected things to end.

  There had to be a way out of here! There just had to be!

  Wincing and praying that I’d not run into any spiders, snakes or mice, I again touched the edge of where the door was. Nothing!

  Gingerly, I then touched the walls around me.

  Relief flooded through me as I felt…a candle stub!

  Yes, that is what it was.

  Surely if there was a candle there had to be matches nearby.

  My fingers continued to search along a small shelf of sorts and was rewarded with the matchbox. The stink of sulphur filled the tiny room.

  My hands trembled as I struck one. The light flared a moment. It showed me a suffocatingly small room with stucco walls and several books lining the shelves. Spider webs decorated the room with their intricate strings. I edged away from them, feeling my stomach tighten. As the match went out, I realized that a draft was coming from somewhere and holding up my hand before I lit the second one, I shielded the light and candle.

  This time I was successful.

  Holding the candle out of the draft, I opened and then quickly shut my mouth as I realized I was staring at the missing bank claim book and the payroll books dating back from the start of the ranch.

  Elated, I quickly found the year that Elliot had come West. I picked it up and sneezed with the dust. Clearing my throat, I blew the grime off.

  He wasn’t mentioned in that first payroll I examined, but as Edward Elliot, his name was written in the second book. As I studied the dates, I knew that my brother had worked here until he’d died or, rather, disappeared for the last amount to be paid him coincided with the date of the last letter he sent me.

  I shivered violently and did not know if it was the draft or my own fears.

  For a moment more I stared at the page and felt more tears creep into my eyes. My hand trembled as I shut the book and then opened the claim book.

  Indeed, just as Ezra Perry had remembered it, Elliot had claimed a small portion of land near Brentwood Pass, adjacent to the Rolling J ranch. Adjacent to! That meant the land had not belonged to Logan then.

  My breath came quickly as I stared at the document in front of me. I realized I had to read the land grant book again. But I no longer had the keys. Then I recalled the date had been eradicated. But what I had here was more than enough proof, wasn’t it?

  The candle burnt low. My stomach growled once again.

  Yes, I had to find a way out of this place.

  With the dim light of the candle behind me, I touched the edges of the wall.

  Ah! A piece of rough metal had been wedged in the door.

  I touched it. Nothing happened.

  Another touch and then… to my utter amazement the door slowly creaked open of its own accord. I winced with the loudness of the noise surprised not everyone in the house had run up to see what was going on.

  I prayed Henry had returned outside because if he hadn’t my secretiveness had been wasted.

  As I squeezed out of the small room, I sneezed and realized that I had dirt and dust on my gown and cobwebs in my hair. How was I ever going to present myself like this? There was no question but that I had to have a bath. But I couldn’t very well draw one without Henry being suspicious. However, chilly as it was, I realized that my only option was to quickly take a dip in the creek just behind the house.

  One more check told me I hadn’t left anything to betray my visit.

  I held my breath as I waited for the secret door to close. Then I as I walked quickly to the exit and placed my hand on the knob, I
discovered this too was locked!

  Chapter 23

  I tried the door again. Yes, Henry had taken the keys and locked me in.

  Cursing, I paced the room as my stomach growled louder now. Sara would surely be up from her nap and wanting lunch. What was I going to do?

  Wetting my lips, I wondered what my brother would have done in a situation like this. Or what I would have suggested he do to get out of this. He had always been the one to get into scrapes, and I had always been the one to get him out.

  As I looked around the room for something to perhaps pry the door open with, I realized that the window was unlocked.

  Crossing the room, I undid the shuters and pushed the window out fully. Could I get through there?

  I pressed my lips together and peered out. And even if I got through, then what? Should I drop to the ground? Should I climb along the ledge to my own room? I glanced down, seeing how easily I could fall and break my neck. Ruefully, I thought it would save Logan the trouble. But I wasn’t going to make it that easy for him.

  I did not think, with my leg only partially healed, that I should try to jump to the ground. It seemed I really had no other choice but to attempt a walk over and pray that my strategy would work.

  Holding my breath, I placed one arm through the window opening, then the other, pushing out to my waist, glad now that I was not as busty as Drucilla had been.

  Momentarily, I pulled back in as I realized that I needed to take some proof with me just in case Logan discovered I had been in here and destroyed it. But what could I take? Certainly, the books would be too awkward for me to carry, especially considering the precarious walk I was going to have to make.

  Pressing my lips together in thought, I crossed over to the desk and felt my heart lift as I realized that Henry had not locked the desk drawer. After all, he hadn’t known I’d been in it.

  I hesitated only a moment before I scooped up my letters to Elliot. Surely, their presence would be enough to show that my brother had been here, and that Logan had had knowledge of him and of his death.

  Tucking the notes into my bodice, I grimaced a moment at the feel of the scratchy fibers against my tender breast. But at least it would leave my hands free for the crossing.

  Once again, I started out the window, straining as I carefully edged past my waist. I refused to look down from the third floor here because I knew that if I saw the ground below me, I would lose my nerve. I swallowed hard and grabbed for the stone ledge, feeling it scrape my palms.

  Only then did I realize that it wasn’t going to work to go out headfirst. I would have to push my feet out and pray that I would find solid footing without seeing first where I was going.

  Pulling back in, I brushed the sweat from my brow and started over again. I closed my eyes a moment and wondered where Henry was. No, I couldn’t very well pound on the door because then he would want to know why I had been in here in the first place and why he hadn’t seen me. The only choice was the window.

  Using a chair to balance on, I hoisted my legs out. At first it seemed that my hips would not pass the barrier. As I held on to the windowsill, I tried to wriggle myself back into the room, but found I could not. Was I to be stuck here forever?

  Mortified, I tried to twist and squeeze my body. I felt my skirts inching up and realized that much of the bulk was in my petticoat and chemise. But if I took them off...

  Pushing the chair away, I tumbled back into the room. It would have been quite comical if I hadn’t been so desperate. But I was relieved to find I had indeed again gained entrance to the room.

  Embarrassing as it was, I shed my undergarments and prayed that no one would be down below. My skin flushed at the fearful idea of someone seeing me. It was bad enough that Logan James had claimed such a familiarity to my body.

  There was no way I could leave the items here without revealing myself and so I stuffed them into my blouse, along with the letters.

  With a deep breath, I mounted the chair and tried again. Metal scraped against my skin. I cursed softly with the pain, but I did indeed free myself past the waist and as my feet awkwardly fumbled for a safe ledge, I clung to the window, afraid to let go.

  Finally, breathless, I balanced on the roof and leaned against the dormer window of the study as I held onto it for dear life. Gazing at the sights around me, I saw how truly lovely the country was from this viewpoint. Had I not been so frightened, I think I might have enjoyed it. But my heart was beating so rapidly that the only thing I could think about was getting to safety.

  Since there were no other windows on this floor, I would have to ease myself over to the roof section above my own window, or perhaps above Sara’s since it was closer, and then lower myself down. Panic raced through me, making me breathe hard as I wondered if I could do that. But what other choice did I have?

  Dizziness assailed me the moment I began to move and with my heart in my throat I leaned back, clinging to the crevices in the roof, seeing the blood on my knuckles, and feeling the rough wood scrape my fingers. But fingers were a small part of what I would injure if I fell from here and I had no desire to spend more weeks in bed – if I even lived.

  As my harsh breathing calmed a bit, I inched forward, not daring to look down, not even wanting to look at all as I tested the path with my foot, making sure I had a hold before moving. Time seemed to go on. Would I ever be safe again? Breathless with fear I finally reached the section of the ledge directly over Sara’s room.

  Another awful thought struck me. What if her window was locked? Could I maneuver the next few feet to my own? Had I locked my window? I hoped not.

  In a quandary I realized I had no choice but to move forward as best I could.

  Uttering a quick prayer to Elliot, I slowly bent down until I was in a precarious seated position, digging my hands into the crevices, feeling my nails break and the wind on my face. I clung as best I could, not knowing what to do. One false step might be my last.

  I swallowed hard and tried to wet my lips, but my mouth was dry. I realized what I had hoped to do would never work as planned. What could I grab onto while my feet hung free?

  My whole-body trembling, I attempted to stand. For a brief moment, I lost my balance and grabbed wildly in the air. Panic closed my throat. The ground spun beneath me. My arms flailing like a bird learning to fly, I somehow regained my balance as I scraped my hand and managed to seize the awkwardly shaped ledge.

  My heart was pounding too wildly. I didn’t want to move from this spot, but I knew that I had to.

  After several deep breaths, I opened my eyes.

  Aware of the blood rushing through my ears, I leaned forward to touch the waving branch. After several painful moments of stretching so that I thought my shoulder would come out of its socket, I managed to grasp the leaves and branches as I inched up to the more solid part of the tree. Once again, I found myself breathing hard, unable to believe that I was actually doing this.

  I had to go on. There was no other choice but falling now.

  My feet were still on the roof, but barely. Taking a deep breath, I let go so that there was a minute of pure fear when I knew the branch could easily crack, sending me to the ground. But after swaying a few moments, it held me. I breathed a sigh of relief.

  I was thankful now for the years when I tried to imitate my brother in climbing trees. Of course, being female, I had been severely chastised by my mother.

  My weight on the branch did cause it to sag just enough so that I was almost parallel with Sara’s room. In fact, I could see her playing with her dolls on the floor.

  The window was shut.

  There was no point in calling to her. Grimacing, I inched myself out on the branch as far as I dared and continued to pray that it would hold me for as long as necessary. Then hanging on monkey style, I closed my eyes and swung myself in her direction.

  My outstretched foot touched the pane of glass. Relief flooded me as it swung open.

  She continued to play, her back towa
rd me, as if nothing was amiss. But then, she heard nothing.

  Before I could catch the ledge, the tree swung back with me still on it. I was still too far away.

  Only then did I hear the creaking and see the fresh wood as the bough began to crack.

  There was no more time to think. Hand over hand I inched my way toward the end, praying that the branch would not break. I reached out with my aching arm. But it was no use.

  Wetting my lips, I looked at the trunk once more. It would be only minutes before I lost my gamble.

  It seemed I had but one choice left: to swing over and pray that I made it, pray that the infinitesimal moment I was in the air and totally without support would not be my last.

  I heard the wood crack once more, felt the bough lower dangerously with the lack of support from the trunk. I swung my legs once, twice and then let go. That short second seemed to last an infinity as I scrambled for the ledge again, missing it with one hand but capturing it with the other.

  Blood was now running down my knuckles and hands. But I was safe... almost.

  I didn’t think my arms could stand the strain anymore but with the determination of the desperate, I forced my way up and over the ledge, gasping for breath and collapsed on the floor of my stepdaughter’s room.

  The thud of my body hitting the wood must have sent vibrations through the floor because she turned, startled to see me. “Mother?”

  I knew I must look a sight, not only with the dirt and cobwebs from the room streaking my face, my hair undone, and my gown torn, but also with my underclothes tucked in my blouse.

  She came up to me and I touched her face.

  Breaking out in sobs as I realized how close I’d come to falling, I hugged her to me. It was so good to know that I was alive.

  Elliot’s letters scratching my skin reminded me that I had a mission and if I did not achieve it, my life was worth little. I decided then and there that I had to find out exactly what Elliot had found and where his claim was. I also knew that I’d have to talk to Mr. Sparks. I was sure he knew more than he was saying. I didn’t even need to tell him who I was.