Tiny Bakton’s fork, loaded with venison sausage and egg, stopped in mid-travel. “Mrs. Diehl, you know how much I love your cooking—and I heard you might have fixed some bear sign this morning.”
Mrs. Diehl smiled as she picked up a tray from the counter. Under the kitchen towel cover rested a large stack of donuts. She knew men would travel from miles around just to get a fresh donut. She placed the donuts on the table. “Enjoy the donuts, boys.” She turned to Josh and poured him coffee as he reached for the bear sign, along with Tiny, Mr. Diehl, and Scott.
Mrs. Diehl brought Josh some eggs and sausage. “You men have everything you need. I’ve some sewing I must get done. You know where everything is, just help yourself.”
Multiple “yes, ma’ams” and “thank you, ma’ams” followed her out of the kitchen.
As Tiny reached for his second donut, Diehl turned to Josh. “If you don’t mind my asking, what are your plans for today?”
Josh had been mulling over his plans. “Mr. Diehl, I don’t mind your asking at all. Later today, Scott will be renting a wagon from Tiny. He’ll then be over to your store. We’ve got a pretty big order. Plus, we need to stock up on some additional ammunition. I’m expecting we’ll be needin’ it. First Sergeant O’Reilly will get his discharge today. After his sister gets into town and they’ve had time to visit, he and Scott will head out to the ranch. I’ll be taking my time and scouting out the country on the way back to the ranch.”
Diehl said, “Josh, you know Jake Ruffcarn and his crowd should be showing up today? They usually get here around noon or before.”
“I do. I’ll be meeting with Ruffcarn today to see if I can get a feel for what he’s planning to do. Don’t imagine I’ll get much, other than a measure of the man. That’s important.”
Scott spoke up. “Josh, you can expect Bull Westin to be with Ruffcarn, and I know Bull has a big mad on.”
“Scott, I realize I’m not finished with Bull. But I can’t let that interfere with our plans. We need to find out what’s happened to our cattle, where they are, and who’s responsible. When we find out, we’ll rectify the situation. You best be on your toes, too. Ruffcarn can’t be too happy with you.”
Scott grinned, picked up his chair, and turned it around so he could lean on the back. He crossed his arms over the back of the chair and said, “I reckon he might have a bee in his bonnet. But I’m just small potatoes. He’s after the Rocking N. He’s going to be madder than a wet hen when he finds out Mr. Nance has hired himself a foreman—and that foreman is you. If you’re planning on confrontin’ him, I reckon I should be around, just to keep everybody else honest.”
Josh knew Scott was right. It wouldn’t hurt to have some backup around when he was dealing with Ruffcarn or Bull. “Thanks, Scott. Yeah, why don’t you hang around until I get a few things taken care of before you leave town.”
Tiny hadn’t said much, but he’d made a big dent in the bear sign. He stood up, “I’d best be gettin’ on back to the stables. Got some blacksmithin’ to do. Mr. Logan, I’d say you’ve got a tough row to hoe. That bunch is plumb mean, so if’n I was you, I’d be careful who I turned my back on.”
Josh nodded. “Good advice. I’ll do that. I’ll also be down later today to settle up with you and pick up my horse. If you’d put some oats aside for me, I’d be much obliged. It’ll be a few days before I get back to the ranch.”
“Yes, sir, I’ll be glad to. Mrs. Diehl, always great food, and that bear sign was a heavenly thing. I’m puttin’ a fifty cent piece on the table,” Tiny called.
“Thank you, Tiny; have a good day,” came from upstairs.
“Tiny, I’ll go with you and get the wagon, so I can get it loaded,” Scott said, as he also stepped away from the table.
The two men walked out together, Leonard Bakton ducking to walk through the door, dwarfing Scott Penny. Scott had his hat pushed back on his head and one last donut in his hand.
“Josh, could you hang around a moment?” Diehl asked.
Josh waited patiently. It took a few moments, then Diehl said, “I spent a few years rangerin’ and I’m pretty good at sizing up men. You best be aware of a couple of men. Wesley Pierce and Grizzard Bankes are two dangerous hombres. Bankes is a gunfighter. He ain’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he’s fast. Killed a man here no more’n two weeks back. The cowhand he shot hadn’t even managed to clear his holster when Bankes was shooting. But something to know—Bankes missed his first shot. I figger he depends on speed so much he ends up missing that first one.”
Josh nodded. “That’ll eventually get him killed. Pa always said, ‘It’s the first shot that counts, boys,’ and that philosophy has saved my life more than once.”
Diehl nodded his agreement and continued. “Wesley Pierce; I don’t quite have him figured out. He comes across to me as a gambler and a cold hombre. He doesn’t work for Ruffcarn. But every dang time Ruffcarn comes into town, he goes straight to the King 7. Pierce owns the King 7. Of all the men around Ruffcarn, including himself, I’m thinkin’ Pierce is the smartest and the most deadly. You want to keep a close eye on him. He’s easy to recognize. He wears all black, including his hat, and you seldom see him outside the King 7.”
“Okay, clear out of my kitchen. I’ve got cleaning to do and Mr. Diehl, you’ve a store to run,” Mrs. Diehl said, as she swept back into the dining room.
Diehl laughed and said, “Yes, ma’am,” as he and Josh moved into the store. Diehl shifted the Colt around where it would be more accessible and slipped on his store apron.
Josh took his rifle and saddle bags with him. “Mr. Diehl, I’ll be needing some additional lead, powder, and four boxes of .44 rimfires for the Winchester, if you’ve got them.”
“Haven’t seen any of those around yet, but I did get some .44s a while back for the Henry. Let’s see. I’ll be; I’ve got those four boxes right here. Will they work in that Winchester of yours?”
“Yes, sir. The two shoot the same ammunition.”
There was a commotion outside, and they saw a group of riders coming in from the south. Josh recognized Bull riding just behind the lead rider who must be Ruffcarn.
Diehl walked over to the front window. “Josh, Ruffcarn’s in the lead. You already know Westin, and the hombre to the right of Westin is Grizzard Bankes. The other three men are some of Ruffcarn’s hands. He’s got about twenty or so … and still hiring. Don’t know those guys.”
The group followed Ruffcarn into the King 7 Saloon. Grizzard Bankes stopped just before entering the saloon and took his hat off, beat dust from his shotgun chaps while looking around, turned, and went inside.
“Bankes is cautious,” Josh said.
“He’s a gunman. Not the best, but he hasn’t lived this long by being careless,” observed Diehl.
Josh packed the powder and lead for his .44 Colts into his saddle bags. “Mind if I leave my gear here for now?” Josh asked.
“Nope, set your stuff here behind the counter. Wouldn’t want anyone to get itchy fingers where your Winchester's concerned.”
Josh turned to walk out the door just as the stage rolled around the corner. The driver pulled the horses to a stop in front of the Diehls’ boarding house. Diehl walked out behind Josh.
“Morning. Hank. You’re running early today,” Jeremiah Diehl said.
“Yep, got an early start. I expect to run at least on schedule today. That’s if we don’t run into any of those blasted Comanches,” Hank said.
The shotgun rider up top tossed down two bags, turned, and climbed down to the street.
With the increased Indian trouble, the stage was carrying two shotguns. The second was inside, and he was the first person out of the coach. Josh watched as the man turned and held out his hand. A strong, young, feminine hand grasped his from inside the stage. Fianna stepped lightly to the box that had been placed below the stage door. Just a glimpse of trim ankle could be caught as she stepped down. Her bright green eyes surveyed the false-front buildings, the boardwalk
, and the townspeople who had gathered to see the stage. The stage arrival was always an event in Camp Wilson.
Josh had known some extremely attractive ladies, but he couldn’t take his eyes from this woman. She was taller than he had expected. Pat O’Reilly wasn’t a tall man, so Josh expected his sister to be a small girl. Instead it looked like she was at least 5’6”. She stood straight, and the light gray traveling dress that she wore accentuated the curves of her body. She turned her head toward him. Her hair matched the red glow of the morning sun. He felt a shock, as if hit by a bolt of lightning. Her green eyes looked right into him. He thought he saw her take a short, quick breath, and he could swear she had experienced the same feeling.
She quickly broke eye contact and looked around for O’Reilly. Since the stage was early, O’Reilly was still at the fort. Josh stepped quickly forward and removed his hat. “Good morning, ma’am,” he said. “I assume you must be Miss Fianna Caitlin O’Reilly?”
“Why yes, I am,” she said.
Fianna looked up into his face, and Josh felt his chest tighten. She held his gaze with a confident look. There was nothing brazen about this girl, but she exuded confidence, just like her brother.
Since everyone had stepped away from the stage, Hank pulled it down to Tiny Bakton’s livery stable to change horses, leaving the street clear.
“Miss O’Reilly, if I may introduce myself, I’m a friend of your brother, Pat. The stage is earlier than expected, but I’m sure Pat will be along shortly. When we talked yesterday, he was sure excited about seeing you. My name is Joshua Matthew Logan.”
Fianna extended her hand to Josh, and when he took it, he felt the soft strength in her hand. This was no milk toast hand shake. He could feel, as well as see, her composure. Josh realized he was holding her hand longer than normal. He quickly released it. He could feel himself turning red.
“Fianna Caitlin O’Reilly, sir. A friend of Pat’s is definitely a friend of mine.” She smiled at him, and he knew he was smitten.
“Let me take your bags in, Miss O’Reilly,” Josh said as he picked up her bags from the street.
“Let me take yor bags in, Miss O’Reilly,” Bull Westin mimicked. “Now ain’t that about the sweetest thing I ever did see.”
Usually Josh was completely alert to his surroundings. His sixth sense, at least that was what Ma had called it, had saved him on several occasions. This was the second time in almost that many days it had failed him. Today it was like his vision had narrowed down to where the only thing he could see was Fianna.
Josh placed the bags onto the boardwalk and turned around to see Bull Westin with Jake Ruffcarn, Grizzard Bankes, and two of Ruffcarn’s toughs.
“Why, Mr. Logan, ain’t you agoin’ to introduce me to this fine lookin’ filly?” Bull asked.
“Bull, I knew you for a loud-mouthed bully when I met you. Since then, I’ve found you out for the back-shooter that you are. Now I see you also have no respect for women. Because Miss O’Reilly is here, I’m going to give you one chance. Turn around, get on your horse, leave this country, and never let me see you again.”
“Logan, I’m gonna kill you. I’m gonna do it slow. Your lady friend there is going to get to see what you’re made of.”
Grizzard Bankes and the two Circle W toughs started moving around to circle Logan.
“Hold it right there, boys.” Diehl had Logan's Winchester leveled at Bankes.
“Aye, I think it would be well if you boys relaxed and enjoyed the show,” said Cecil Starit. He stood behind them, next to the Shamrock Saloon, the gaping muzzles of his scatter-gun pointed at their bellies. At that distance the buckshot would spread enough to hit them all.
Ruffcarn said, “Stand easy, boys. This is Bull’s show. He can take care of himself.”
Josh Logan fixed Bull with a flinty gaze. “Westin, you called this dance; now start the music.”
Bull charged Josh.
Josh smoothly stepped out of Bull’s path and grabbed his beefy left arm. Using Bull’s momentum, Josh spun and threw him head-first into the hitching post in front of Diehl’s store and boarding house. Bull’s head hit the hitching post with a sickening thud, and he momentarily dropped to his knees. He shook his head, lunged to his feet, and charged. Josh ducked, taking a glancing blow to the left side of his head from a deadly right. He smashed a left jab hard into Bull’s mouth and nose. Blood exploded across Bull’s face.
Surprised at the sight of his own blood, Bull straightened and threw a looping left. Josh stepped inside the intended blow and drove a savage right into the left side of Bull’s head. Bull went to his knees. He looked up at Josh, hate in his eyes, spit out a tooth, and struggled to his feet. Josh blocked a left and stepped into Bull. With all of his weight behind the blow, Josh smashed a left into Bull’s mouth and nose again; white cartilage could be seen from Bull’s crushed nose. Bull was stunned, swaying. He was almost out on his feet. Pivoting his body to leverage every ounce of his weight into the blow, Josh swung a powerful left, catching Bull just below his right ear.
Josh stepped back. Bull toppled unconscious to the ground, his face an almost unrecognizable mass of blood, bone, and flesh. Josh quickly flexed both hands to ensure nothing was broken and looked at Ruffcarn, Grizzard Bankes, and the other Circle W riders.
“When he comes to, tell him, for his health, he’d best leave this country. I’ve no use for a back-shooter. He tried to bushwhack me once. If I run into him again, I’ll kill him as quickly as I’d kill a rabid skunk. Now get this piece of slop out of here.”
Ruffcarn stepped out to Logan. “Mister Logan, you’re a mighty hard man. But I like hard men—they’re the only kind I hire. If you have a moment, maybe we could have a talk—over a drink?”
Josh looked around at the crowd that had gathered in the street. Penny and Starit were covering his back. Jeremiah Diehl leaned against the hitching post just outside his store, Josh’s Winchester cradled in the crook of his left arm.
“Yeah, you’re just the man I’ve been looking for,” Josh said. “I’ll meet you in the Shamrock Saloon in five minutes.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of the King 7. Join me there?”
“I reckon not. Mr. Starit here earned my business by covering my back. So I’ll see you in the Shamrock.” Josh watched Ruffcarn’s face turn red, and it looked as if he was going to say something else, but changed his mind. Josh waited for a moment and then turned back to Fianna.
As Josh walked back to Fianna, he continued to flex his hands. He needed to keep them limber just in case. “Sorry about the interruption. Now, let me help you with your bags.”
Fianna was cool, as if she’d been watching a croquet match. She smiled up at Josh. “Why, thank you,” she said, and placed her hand on his arm.
Chapter 9
Josh leaned against Starit’s bar. Cecil was behind the bar wiping glasses as if nothing had happened. Will Penny sat at a table in the Shamrock, playing a hand of solitaire.
Jake Ruffcarn walked into Starit’s establishment, motioning for Grizzard Bankes and the two cowhands to wait at the end of the bar, and strode up to Josh.
Josh looked at Grizzard Bankes and said to Ruffcarn, “You keep a rough crew.”
“This is rough country. I’ll get right to the point. You look as if you can handle yourself, and I’m always looking for another good hand. I’m hiring if you’re looking. I fired a man yesterday, so I need a replacement.” Ruffcarn turned and stared at Scott Penny.
Bankes barked a sound intended to be a laugh. Penny just kept on dealing cards, apparently completely absorbed in his game of solitaire.
“Way I heard it, the man quit. But that’s not the point. The point is, you’d better be looking for two men. Because if you keep Bull Westin on, you’re signing the man’s death warrant. The next time I see him I’ll kill him.”
Josh watched Ruffcarn’s face turn scarlet. It was obvious he wasn’t used to being talked to in such a manner. His knuckles had turned white, grippin
g the bar.
“Logan, I’m offering you a job.”
“I already have a job.”
Ruffcarn’s eyes narrowed. “Where?”
“I’m the new foreman for the Rocking N.”
Ruffcarn’s voice dropped low with anger. “You’re making a bad choice, Logan. Sometimes men die when they make bad choices.”
Josh locked Ruffcarn in a cold gaze. “Ruffcarn, we all die—some sooner than later. So, I’ll just take that as a piece of friendly advice. Otherwise, I might have to take offense, and I’m almighty tired of being offended today.
“But while we’re discussing the vagaries of life, I might mention that there’s been an awful lot of cattle just wandering off the Nance place lately. Just so there’s no misunderstanding, anyone on Nance property will be treated as a rustler and will be dealt with appropriately.”
“You saying I’m a rustler?”
“Reckon you can answer that better than me. But I’ll tell you this. I don’t like your kind. You bully people. You take what you want with no thought of the other man. When you run across someone you can’t bully, you try to break him. Well, you just found a nut that’s going to be plenty hard to crack. I don’t take to being pushed, and I sure don’t take to having my friends run over. So, since you’ve had your say and I’ve had mine, why don’t you take your cur-dog crew and get out of here.”
Ruffcarn stared at Josh. His neck bulged red with rage. Josh could see the man was considering pulling his gun, then Josh watched as the rage left Ruffcarn’s face and reason returned. After staring at Josh for a moment more, Ruffcarn wheeled and stomped out of the saloon.
Grizzard Bankes, relaxed and leaning against the bar looked Josh over, tipped his hat, and smiled. “I reckon I’ll be seeing you.” He then turned and ambled out of the Shamrock, his two men following.
“Josh, you sure don’t waste any time. Why, it appears to me you’ve made more enemies in the last two days than I have in my whole lifetime,” Scott Penny said, a grin spreading across his freckled face.
Logan's Word: A Logan Family Western - Book 1 (Logan Family Western Series) Page 7
