A Bride for Logan

by Barbara Goss

  “Go on,” Logan said.

  “I did some sleuthing last night at the saloon. Rumor around town is that Trixie was seeing Dallas. I talked to the women Trixie worked with and found out a few things. It seems Trixie quit her job the day Emma went missing, and no one has seen her since. One woman told me that Trixie planned to leave for Topeka with Dallas. The barman told me Trixie was asking him where she could find an abandoned building. She told him she wanted to store some things. He told her about the Anderson's barn on Creek Road, and he even drew her a map to find it.”

  “Isn’t that one of the roads to Russell?”

  Billings nodded. “The house burned to the ground about five or six years ago. Evidently, the barn is still standing.”

  “Thank you, Sheriff.” Logan turned to Alan, “We have a long ride ahead of us.”

  After the sheriff rode away, Alan said, “That doesn’t mean Emma's there. That’s just where Dallas and Trixie went.”

  “It’s the best lead we have. If she wasn’t taken to that barn, she might be somewhere along the way.”

  Alan scratched his head. “What do you think Trixie wanted to store there, and how does this relate to Emma?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s worth checking out. We lost Dallas’s tracks in the woods near Creek Road.” Logan flicked the reins. “Let’s get started.”

  Even though Logan and Alan rode the best and strongest horses, they still needed to stop frequently to rest and water them. Fortunately, the road ran close to Fossil Creek so the horses always had fresh water to drink.

  Logan paced while the horses rested. He was eager to keep moving. Logan thought that if he didn’t find her soon, it would be too late. Still, he had enough sense to know he'd never find Emma if something happened to the horses.

  When they finally reached the Anderson's barn, they found it deserted, so they kept riding south to Russell.

  When they arrived in Russell, they were about to tie their horses and ask around town if anyone had seen a man fitting Dallas’s description, but Logan spotted Trixie standing in front of the hotel. “Look, there’s Trixie,” he said to Alan. “She looks as though she’s waiting for someone.”

  Alan looked at where Logan was pointing. “Probably Dallas.”

  “I don’t want her to see us,” Logan said. He slid off his horse and ducked behind the water trough. Alan followed his lead.

  As they watched the front of the hotel, Dallas came strolling out, carrying his saddlebag. Logan recognized the two horses tied next to the one Dallas was saddling, and he pulled his gun from his holster. Alan followed suit.

  While Dallas was busy putting the saddle on his horse, Logan and Alan came up behind him. Logan pointed his gun at Dallas, and Alan kept Trixie covered.

  “Put your hands in the air!”

  Trixie and Dallas raised their hands.

  “Throw your guns down!” Logan yelled.

  Dallas grimaced, but he threw his guns to the ground.

  Alan kept his gun on Trixie.

  Logan moved closer to Dallas. “Where’s Emma?”

  “We didn’t hurt her,” Dallas said. “We left her at Anderson’s barn on Creek Road.”

  Logan jabbed his gun into Dallas’s back. “We checked the barn; Emma’s not there.”

  Dallas shrugged. “That’s where we left her.”

  While Logan was questioning Dallas, Alan was interrogating Trixie.

  “Alan, can you keep them covered while I get the sheriff?”

  Trixie, who was in tears, yelled, “No! We left Emma in the barn. If she isn’t there, she must have tried to walk home. Don’t call the sheriff. We’ll give you back the money if you just let us go. We want to start a new life somewhere, please, Logan.”

  Logan didn’t want to call the sheriff because then he’d be tied up in Russell for who knows how long, and all he wanted to do is to find Emma.

  “Where’s the money?” Alan asked her.

  “In Dallas’s saddlebag.”

  Alan walked over, opened the saddlebag, and removed the money. He walked over to Logan’s horse and put the money in his saddlebag.

  “Get on your horse,” Logan told Dallas.

  “You too, Trixie,” Alan ordered.

  When they were both on their horses, Logan said, “Now, get out of town and never come around here again.”

  Dallas turned his horse, pulled a small gun from his boot, and fired several shots at Alan and Logan. He grabbed the two stolen horses and galloped quickly away.”

  Logan lay on the ground and watched them ride away. He saw Trixie look back before putting her heel to the horse’s ribs to catch up with Dallas. Logan grabbed his gun and tried to sit up, but he felt dizzy. He felt a stabbing pain in his shoulder and knew he’d been hit.

  Alan kneeled beside him. “Logan! Dear God, he shot you. Stay here. I’ll get some help.”

  As dizzy as Logan was, his only thought was how he was going to look for Emma.

  Alan and the sheriff carried Logan to the doctor’s office. He had regained consciousness and kept telling them he was fine.

  “We’ll let the doctor judge that,” Alan said.

  The doctor examined Logan and said, “It’s just a graze.” He winked at Logan. “I won’t even have the pleasure of removing a bullet.”

  “Can you just bandage it up, Doc? I need to find my wife.”

  “I’d like to keep you overnight to make sure you don’t get an infection. I want to be sure you don’t have a concussion from your fall, as well.”

  “I’m fine,” Logan said between his teeth. “I can’t stay. I have to find my wife. You can’t hold me here against my will.”

  “All right,” the doctor said. “Off with you, then.” He addressed Alan. “Keep your eye on him.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Once more, Logan and Alan rode like lightning toward the Anderson’s barn. It was about eight miles from Russell to the barn, so they stopped at the five-mile point to rest their horses since they'd been galloping at top speed, the horses needed rest and water.

  Logan paced as the horses drank from the creek.

  “I think you’ve finally fallen in love, my friend,” Alan said.

  “I just feel responsible for her.”

  “I’m overjoyed that you’ve fallen for Emma. She’s perfect for you.”

  Logan stopped pacing and faced Alan. “Do you really think I’m in love? How does one know?”

  “If I can tell you’re in love, you should be able to. Look at you—you’re a wreck. Stop worrying.”

  “How can you say that? We don’t know where she is.”

  “We know she isn’t with Dallas. That’s promising. I’m sure she’s somehow trying to get home.”

  “Suppose I am in love with Emma, and she doesn't feel the same way about me?

  “She might feel the same. You won’t know until you tell her how you feel about her.”

  “Alan, you make it sound so simple. First of all, I need to find her safe and sound. Then, if I tell her how I feel and she doesn’t feel the same, I’ll feel like a fool.”

  “That’s how the game of love is played. It’s like poker, Logan. You have a good hand and you bet on it not knowing what your opponent has in his hand. Love is a gamble.”

  “I never said I was in love with her. I might be…I don’t know what it is I feel.”

  They mounted their horses and continued on their journey to find Emma.

  They watered their horses again when they'd reached the Anderson’s barn Logan inspected the barn one more time. It was empty, but by the straw strewn about, he surmised she’d slept there. Where could she have gone from there?

  It had rained since they’d been there last, so there were no longer any tracks to follow. Logan returned to the barnyard and scanned the area.

  Alan said, “Put yourself in Emma’s place. Where would you go?”

  Logan gazed in all directions. “I guess I’d go north.”

  “Why north?”

  �
�Because we came from the south and didn’t pass her or any houses. There isn’t a road going east or west. She has to have gone north.”

  “Sounds logical,” Alan said.

  This time they trotted the horses and scanned the sides of the road for any signs of Emma as they rode.

  “The Andersons must have been the only house around here,” Alan said. “I can’t imagine living in a place like this. You’d have to go miles to find a neighbor in an emergency.”

  Logan stopped and pointed. “Is that a lane off to the right?”

  “It sure looks like it. Should we ride down that way?”

  “Let’s check it out first.” Logan trotted to the lane. He was excited to see that it led to a house. “Alan, someone lives down there.”

  “She would have gone there, I’m sure of it.”

  “Let’s go,” Logan cried, giving his horse a nudge.

  ~~~**~~~

  “Thank you for another lovely dinner, Rachel,” Emma said. “I’ve enjoyed my stay here, but when is Tim due to return?”

  “There’s never a set date for his return. He drives his cattle to Dodge City or Abilene along with his crew and they stay there until they sell the cattle and put them on a train to a market in Chicago. The trip takes weeks. From experience, I figure he’ll be home sometime this week. It all depends on so many things, though, like the weather, sickness, a broken axle on the chuck wagon…no one can predict their exact return.”

  “How often does he have to go on cattle drives?”

  “Just once a year, thankfully. I miss him terribly, and it’s lonely here without neighbors. When we first moved here, we had the Andersons. They were an older couple. They moved to Kansas City after the fire. I used to walk the three miles to visit Clara Anderson once a week.”

  “Maybe someone will buy their property,” Emma said.

  “I hope so.” Rachel stood. “Let’s take our tea out on the front porch. I love watching the wild rabbits play in the yard in the early evening.”

  The women carried their cups through the dining and sitting rooms. They were about to open the front door when someone knocked on it.

  Rachel gasped as the sound had startled her. She set her cup down on a nearby table. “I always get alarmed when someone comes to the door because we’re so isolated here. It scares me.”

  Emma set her cup down. “Let’s peek out the window first.”

  “That’s a good idea, Emma.”

  Rachel pulled the curtain back an inch and peered out. “Two men, and I don’t know either. I don’t know what to do.”

  Curious, Emma peered out. “Logan and Alan!” She ran to the door, opened it, flew out, and looked up at them for a moment. She knew Rachel would expect her to fly into her husband’s arms. So she did.

  Rachel stayed in the background and watched through the door.

  Emma felt Logan’s arms tighten around her. She’d only meant to greet him as a wife would, but he wouldn’t let her pull away. His grip grew tighter and tighter. Finally, he loosened his hold on her.

  “Thank, God!” he said. “I’ve been so worried.”

  Emma gave Alan a loose embrace. She took Logan’s hand and said, “Come inside. I want you to meet—”

  “Mrs. Bradley,” Rachel interjected from the doorway.

  “How do you do?” Logan said.

  “Nice to meet you,” Alan added.

  Mrs. Bradley, this is my husband, Logan Sinclair, and our friend, Alan Hershel."

  Emma escorted them into the sitting room. She hadn’t given Rachel a second thought until she’d told them her name was Mrs. Bradley. Emma thought the day might become even more interesting. Obviously, Logan didn’t recognize Rachel. He must have been young when she'd left the ranch. She’d have to remember to call Rachel Mrs. Bradley, as it seemed Rachel didn’t want her identity known.

  In the sitting room, Emma sat beside Logan, and she explained. “When Dallas and Trixie left me at the barn, I didn’t know where to go, so I started to walk. I came upon this lovely home, and Mrs. Bradley took me in and has been so gracious. I’ve been here three days already.”

  Logan let his arm slip around Emma’s shoulders. “I failed to protect you. I’m sorry.”

  “No, Logan. It was my fault. I’m the one who led Dallas to Hunter’s Grove. Now he’s gone with all of your money and two of your horses. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

  “We caught them in Russell,” Alan said. “We got the money back, but he shot Logan and ran off with the two horses.”

  “He shot Logan?” Emma looked up at Logan. “Are you all right?”

  “It was just a flesh wound,” Logan said.

  “Where?” For some reason, Emma was truly upset and worried. At the same time, she knew she had to play the part of the loving wife for Rachel’s benefit. Playing the part was easy because she might not be in love with Logan, but she did care about him, and this was all her fault.

  Logan seemed more loving toward her than usual. Was he playing a role, too?

  “My shoulder.”

  Rachel remained quiet.

  Logan removed his arm from around Emma and took her hand in his. “I think we should head back to Hunter’s Grove.”

  “Excuse me for interrupting,” Rachel said, “but it’s quite a distance to Hunter’s Grove, and it’ll be dark in another two hours. I insist you all spend the night and leave first thing in the morning.”

  “She’s right, Logan,” Alan said. “You and Emma will have to ride double, and that means a slower pace home.”

  “That’s very kind of you, Mrs. Bradley. We’ll accept your offer. Are you sure you have room for us all?” Logan asked.

  “Well, let’s see. The room Emma’s been sleeping in will be fine for you two, and Alan can sleep on the settee.” Rachel looked at Alan. “It’s very comfortable. I often sleep there when my husband is away.”

  Logan was still holding Emma’s hand in his, and when Rachel said they’d be sleeping in the same room, she tried to jerk it away, but he squeezed it tighter. She remembered her part in the play and assured Rachel it would be fine.

  Rachel fed Alan and Logan. While they ate, she made up a bed for Alan on the settee. Emma sat with the men while they ate. She worried about sleeping in the same bed with Logan, especially because there wasn’t a lounge chair or sofa in the bedroom, just a straight chair, dresser, and bed.

  Before Logan and Emma went to their room, Rachel embraced Emma. “I’ll miss you.”

  “And I, you.” Emma squeezed her back. “I’ll write.”

  “I’d love that.” Rachel wiped a tear from her eye and pushed Emma gently toward the back bedroom. “Sleep well, you two.”

  “How am I to get undressed?” Emma said as she gazed around the small bedroom.

  Logan shrugged. “I can’t very well wander around someone else’s house. How about if I turn my back?”

  “Give me your word you won’t peek.”

  “I promise.”

  Logan turned to the wall. Emma quickly shed the dress Rachel had loaned her and slipped on the borrowed night gown. Once the nightgown was on, she slipped off her underthings and laid the clothes on the chair.

  “All right. I’m done.” Emma got into bed and pulled the quilt up to her chin. “I’ll turn to the wall so you can undress.”

  “You can look, if you want. I’m not shy,” Logan said with a chuckle.

  “No, thanks.”

  She felt Logan slip into bed.

  “Now, you stay on your side of the bed, and we’ll be just fine,” Emma said.

  Logan turned the lamp off. “I’m not tired.”

  “I’m not either.”

  “Let’s talk,” he suggested.

  “You first.”

  “Turn toward me or I won't be able to hear you.”

  Emma sighed, but she turned toward him. “Talk.”

  “Now I can’t think of a thing to say.”

  “Does your shoulder hurt?”

  “It does now. It didn’t b
efore because I focused my mind on finding you.”

  “Did the doctor give you some salve or anything?”

  “No.”

  “I’m sorry Dallas shot you.”

  “Let’s talk about you, Emma. Here we are, married, and I don’t know much about you at all.”

  “You know my parents died, and I went to live with my best friend.”

  “Didn’t you have any relatives to take you in?”

  “No. My mother almost died giving birth, and the doctor told her she probably wouldn't be able to have more children, so I was an only child. My mother’s family is in Germany, and my father was an orphan.”

  “Your mother came from Germany?”

  “Yes. Father and I helped her with her English. By the time she took that fateful train ride, she spoke it very well. She also taught me quite a lot of German.”

  “What was your father like?”

  Emma smiled in the dark. “He spoiled me rotten. He taught me to ride and shoot. We spent a lot of time together.”

  “You don’t seem like a spoiled person.”

  “I‘m definitely spoiled, but not in a material way. I was spoiled by the time my parents spent with me. We always went to church, had Bible studies, and tried to live as the Bible teaches.”

  “You grew up in a home very different from mine.”

  “Tell me about your home life, then.” Emma heard what she thought was a groan coming from Logan.

  “It was just Pru, me, and my father. My father was strict, and Pru and I never got along. She was a tomboy and always trying to best me at everything. It was demeaning since she was a girl, but she was a lot older.”

  “I would have loved a sister or brother,” Emma said. “I think it’s time you told me about your mother.”

  “I should…but it’s a sore subject.”

  “Do you remember her? How old were you when she…left?”

  “She walked out on us when I was about four. I hardly remember her.”

  “I’m sorry, but she might have had no other choice.”

  “A mother shouldn’t leave her children.”

  Emma sensed anger and resentment in his voice. She knew she’d prodded enough.