Logan sat at his desk, wondering how he’d manage after a month of having his dinner ready for him when he came home, the dishes washed, and his clothes laundered.
He sighed; it had been nice.
Henry Kohler came in. He flung a stack of wanted posters on Logan's desk. “Latest printing.”
“Thanks, Henry. It seems we have more posters each batch. What’s happening to the world?”
“It’s goin’ crazy since the war. Everyone wants money but don’t want to work for it.”
“I suppose you’re right. How’s Sally and the children?”
“Sally’s in the family way again, and the other kids are fine. Growing fast.”
“Give them my regards, Henry.”
“Sure will,” Henry said, and he left the office.
Logan shuffled through the posters and one caught his eye: Homer Washburn. There was no photograph, but he was wanted for the armed robberies of several banks and having murdered several men while evading capture. He was last seen in San Antonio.
Great. He was probably headed Logan's way. Laredo was the last stop before Mexico which made Logan's job a tough one, as bandits always tried to cross over the border to hide from the law. He’d have to be alert for the next few days.
Logan pinned the poster on the bulletin board along with the others. He'd also hang them on the front window and near the saloon.
He was shocked to see a woman on one of the wanted posters: Annie Flynn, who was wanted for assisting with a bank robbery in Houston. There wasn’t a picture for her either, but there was a brief description. He couldn’t imagine having to arrest a woman.
Logan also found a wanted poster for a man named Sylvester. Again, there was no photo, but there was a description. The man had no last name—or was Sylvester his last name? The description was vague, but it mentioned his affiliation with Homer Washburn and Annie Flynn.
Only one poster included a photograph and that was of Billy the Kid, and they had plenty of posters of him. Logan stared at Billy. He was just a boy, and he'd already ruined his life. He sure hoped Billy wouldn’t ride into Laredo; he’d hate to have to kill a kid. So far, he hadn’t had to kill anyone, and he hoped he’d never have to.
Logan's deputy and best friend, Woodrow Shaw—Woody—ran into the office as if he were being chased, struggling to catch his breath.
“Whoa, Woody—who’s chasing you?”
Woody leaned his back against the office door, panting and gasping. “The stagecoach to San Antonio has been attacked.”
“What?” Logan grabbed his gun belt and slung it on.
“Old man Jenkins just rode in," Woody explained between breaths. "He saw the whole thing, but he isn’t well enough to help the passengers so he rode here as fast as he could. He said the passengers were hurt and needed help.” Woody paused. “I’m going with you.”
“No! Fetch Doc Fletcher! Bring him to the scene. My sister’s on that stage!”
Logan dashed out the door and onto his horse. He raced down the trail the stage would have taken to San Antonio, praying the whole time. A strict Church man, he’d been taught to believe in God and to pray.
He rode about four miles before he came to the scene, feeling sick to his stomach at the site that met his eyes. Once he'd calmed his nausea, he jumped from his horse and raced to the stage.
The coach was on its side with the curtains blowing through the window. Both the driver and the assistant were lying on the ground, face down. The luggage had been rummaged through, and their contents strewn about.
Logan ran to the passenger's door and yanked it open. The first person he saw was his darling sister. He felt for a pulse in her neck, and he let out a cry of pain. “Dear God, no!” he said when he realized his beloved baby sister was dead. He turned her head slightly to see a bullet hole in her temple.
He pulled her out, kissed her on the cheek, and lay her on the ground, covering her with a shawl lying near the coach. Logan went back to the stage. The people inside looked as if they were all jumbled together. An elderly man was lying on top of the pile of bodies. Logan turned him over to find he also had a bullet hole through his head. He pulled him out and laid him on the ground beside his beloved Katherine. Next, he pulled out the elderly lady, who had a bullet hole in her chest. She still had a faint heartbeat, so he placed her on her back and tried to talk to her, but her breathing was shallow and she remained silent. He put her beside the elderly man before dragging the second man out. He was also dead, having taken a bullet through his eye.
He went back in for Beatrice whose body was being lifted toward him by the girl beneath her. Logan grabbed Beatrice, giving the girl under her no more than a brief glance in the process. Beatrice had a bullet hole to her neck, and she was also dead.
Poor, sweet, Beatrice. Logan felt guilty he hadn’t shown her more attention while she was visiting.
He felt vomit building in his throat, and he went into the bushes to let it out. Logan felt as if he were going to pass out. He felt dizzy, nauseated, and sweaty, and he tried to shake it off; he had work to do.
Logan went back into the coach for the last woman, but she was crawling out by herself. “How is it you survived?” Logan asked.
She said, in a shaky voice, “I don’t know. I fell on the floor when the stage turned over, and before I could get up, the shooting started. People kept falling on top of me. I don’t think the shooters knew I was there.”
“How many men were there?”
“I think three…or maybe four.”
Woody and the doctor galloped to a stop and slid off their horses.
“Katherine?” Woody asked, looking at the woman covered with the shawl.
Logan nodded. “Doc, the women there,” he pointed to the middle-aged woman lying on the ground, “she was breathing.”
Doc knelt to examine her, and he shook his head and closed the woman’s eyes. “Not anymore. Good heavens! What a horrible sight.”
Woody and the doctor looked at the blonde woman, standing nearby, shaking.
“Who is she?” Doc asked.
Logan shrugged. “The lucky one who wasn’t hurt.” He picked Katherine up and laid her across his saddle. “Maybe one of you could bring the survivor back to Laredo. I’m going to care for my sister.” His voice broke slightly as he spoke. “Someone needs to send some men here to take care of the dead.” Logan mounted his horse and held Katherine in his arms as he rode slowly back to Laredo.
After Logan had buried Katherine and Beatrice, he prayed over his sister’s grave. “God, I know You work in mysterious ways, and I know people have to die regardless of their age, but please take Katherine’s soul to Heaven with you. She loved you, and I’d feel better knowing she was with You and felt peace. Help me, Lord, to find solace, and to uncover the monsters who did this to her and the others. Thank you, Lord. Amen.”
Knowing he couldn’t leave the jurisdiction of Laredo to hunt down the men who did this, he resigned as sheriff and signed up to be a bounty hunter so he'd the incentive to bring them back alive—otherwise, he’d be tempted to give them the same treatment they’d given the stage passengers.
After packing his things, he trotted through town, gazing at everything, wondering if he’d ever return. That was when he spotted the blonde woman who’d survived the massacre, sitting on the wooden walkway, her back to the wall of the general store, her legs curled up beneath her. The suitcase she’d carried when she first joined the stage sat beside her.
Logan stopped in front of her. “Are you all right, miss?”
The woman simply nodded. Her hair was even messier than it had been before, and she looked dirty and heartbroken.
Logan wondered who she was and why she hadn’t gone home. She should be thanking the Lord she was alive, but instead, she was sitting long-faced and lost-looking.
“Can I give you a lift home? It’s been two days since the…the accident. Why are you still here?”
The woman shrugged. “Are you going to arrest m
e? I could use a place to sleep and a meal.”
“Nope. I’m not the sheriff anymore. I’m going out after the men who did this.”
“I know where they’re headed,” she said calmly.
Logan slid off his horse and walked over to her. “You know where the killers are headed?”
“Yes, and I know their names, too.”
“How could you know that?”
“I heard them talking while everyone was lying on top of me.”
“What are their names?”
The woman played calmly with the folds in her dress. “I just heard their first names—you know, what they called each other.”
Logan tapped his foot. “And the names were?”
“The man who gave the orders was named Homer, and another man was Sy. No one called the third one by name…or the fourth, if there was one—I only heard three voices.”
“Homer Washburn!” Logan exclaimed. “All right, so where are they headed?”
The woman looked up at him and seemed to take forever to answer. “I’ll tell you, if you take me with you.”
“I can’t do that. I’m a bounty hunter, now, and I’m on a dangerous mission. I can’t be dragging a female along with me.”
The woman shrugged and looked down at her lap again.
“I can take you to the nearest city,” Logan said, hoping to strike a bargain.
The woman folded her arms over her chest. “The nearest big city is San Antonio, and that isn’t where the men are going, so it will just be a waste of your time.”
Logan sighed. “So where do you want to go?”
“North. Along the Rio Grande.”
“How do I know you aren’t leading me away from the gang?”
“Because I want them caught, too.”
“How far north do you want to go?”
“I’ll tell you exactly what I heard them say once we are far enough from Laredo that you can’t send me back here.”
“You do know that your reputation will be ruined by traveling alone with me.”
The woman gave him a sardonic smile. “It matters little to me. I’ve already hit the bottom of society, anyway.”
“How is that?” Logan asked.
“I’m a saloon woman.”
“Then why aren’t you working at the Gold Mine Saloon across the street instead of sitting here, homeless?”
“I was fired. That’s why I boarded the stage for San Antonio. There are a lot of saloons there.”
Logan sighed again. Without a hint as to the direction of the killers, finding them would take him months. If this woman was to be believed, she knew where they were headed, which would save him a lot of time. What could it hurt? Unless she wasn’t telling him the truth.
Logan gave her his fiercest look. “If I find out you’re lying to me, I’ll throw you into the Rio Grande for the fish to feed on.”
The woman nodded.
“First, you’ll need a horse.”
Afterword
Thank you for taking the time to read Lawfully Freed. If you enjoyed it, please consider telling your friends or posting a short review. Doesn’t have to be much, just a simple rating and a few kind words work wonders <3
Your thoughts, opinions and feedback are much appreciated.
Sincerely,
Ginny
About the Author
Ginny Sterling is a Texas transplant living in Kentucky. She spends her free time (Ha!) writing, quilting, and spending time with her husband and two children. Ginny can be reached on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter or via email at [email protected]
Lawfully Freed, Copyright © 2018 by Ginny Sterling
These books are works of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of these books may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without express written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Thank you for supporting the author’s rights.
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