Logan's Word: A Logan Family Western - Book 1 (Logan Family Western Series)

by Donald L. Robertson

  “Colonel, there’s wholesale rustling taking place on the Rocking N. I aim to find out who’s doing it.”

  “Any suspicions?”

  “Yes, sir, but I’ll keep that to myself until I have more to go on.

  “I have another concern. Why is the fort only buying beef and horses from Jake Ruffcarn.”

  Josh watched the colonel’s face closely for any sign of surprise or deceit. There was none.

  “I found that of interest also,” the colonel said. “I can’t say I like the man, but Ruffcarn has a letter from the colonel in charge of purchasing in the Department of Louisiana & Texas office stating that Ruffcarn is to be the sole provider of beef and horses. I fired off a telegram to headquarters and they confirmed the letter. I’d like to spread the purchases around, especially to someone like Mr. Nance, but my hands are tied.”

  “Thank you, Colonel,” Josh said as he rose to his feet. “Would you mind if I use your telegraph? I’ll write it up and have someone bring it. I’ve got to be pulling out to find those rustled cows.”

  The colonel stood and walked Josh to the door. “Not at all. Send it up anytime. I’d like to offer you some help, but we’re stretched almighty thin with the Indian problem. By the way, I did receive your message about your Comanche encounter. Sounds like you had some good luck surviving that bunch.”

  “Yes, sir, I was lucky—thanks to Mr. Winchester and Mr. Colt.”

  The colonel laughed as they walked out of the building. “It’s a pleasure meeting you, Major Logan. If I can be of service, let me know.”

  “Thank you, sir; I’ll be seeing you,” Josh said. He shook the colonel’s hand and headed back to the Diehls’. Looking up to the crystal-blue sky, he noticed thunderheads starting to build off to the distant southwest. Josh had experienced a couple of these summer Texas thunderstorms. They were usually accompanied by heavy rain, wind, and sometimes hail. He had heard that twisters sometimes showed up in them. He and the crew needed to be leaving immediately after lunch. He quickened his step to meet the men, and maybe Fianna, before heading south.

  Chapter 11

  “Come on in, Josh,” Jeremiah Diehl said.

  Everyone was already gathered at the table, and Mrs. Diehl was just sitting down next to her husband.

  “We left you a seat next to Fianna,” Mrs. Diehl said with a twinkle in her eyes. She smiled and nodded toward the open seat.

  “Thank you, ma’am. I’ve built a sizable appetite, and that fried chicken smells mighty good,” Josh said. He pulled out the chair and sat next to Fianna. She turned slightly and, with a brilliant smile, strummed a chord inside him that had never been touched. The corners of her emerald green eyes crinkled slightly with her smile. He felt his pulse quicken. Josh tried to remain nonchalant as he said, “Afternoon, Miss O’Reilly.”

  “Hello, Josh. Thank you for this morning.”

  “Wasn’t nothing, ma’am. That man needed a lesson in manners.”

  “Josh, why don’t you drop the Miss O’Reilly. You can call me Fianna or Fi, if you like.” Again, Fianna smiled up at him and placed her hand lightly on his arm.

  Josh felt the warmth of her hand on his arm. How can I feel like this about a woman I’ve just met—and the sister of my good friend? He smiled at her as she lifted her hand from his arm, having left it there just a little longer than necessary.

  “This chicken is going to taste doubly good to me,” Mr. Diehl said. “A rooster that finds it necessary to start crowing at three o’clock in the morning wears my patience thin. I’ll sleep good tonight.”

  There were a few chuckles around the table. Josh felt relieved that the attention was off him. The girl sitting next to him was literally taking his breath away. He’d heard of things like this happening quickly. He’d never believed it. A man had to maintain a level head and be conscious of his surroundings. He couldn’t; he didn’t have time to become interested in Fianna. He loved that name. It fit her perfectly, right down to the few scattered freckles that floated across her soft, white skin like flecks of butter on top of the fresh milk in Ma’s churn.

  Wait a minute—he was headed for Colorado, and no woman, especially one as attractive and as educated as Fianna, would have any interest in being with him or starting a ranch in Colorado. She was headed to California, with her brother. How would O’Reilly feel? They had fought side by side through most of the war. They trusted each other. He had to put her out of his mind.

  “Now don’t be bashful,” Mrs. Diehl said. “Dig in. We’ve plenty more where that came from.”

  Josh filled his plate, as did Scott, Pat, and Tiny.

  “You boys get all the supplies loaded?” Josh asked Pat and Scott.

  “Aye, we did,” Pat O’Reilly said. “That’s a lot of ammunition. Hope we don’t need all of it. But as I’ve always said, better to carry a tad more weight and have an extra bullet when the time comes.”

  “Yep, you boys near cleaned me out of powder and lead. But I’ve another load coming in soon,” Mr. Diehl said. He reached across for another piece of his favorite rooster. “Gotta eat fast, Tiny’s at the table and he likes fried chicken.”

  “Mrs. Diehl’s fried chicken is about the best I’ve ever tasted,” Tiny said, around a mouthful of chicken. “Josh, I’ve saddled your horse, and he’s ready when you are. Also doctored up that scratch—there’s no sign of infection. He’s as good as new.”

  “Thanks, Tiny,” Josh said. “Scott, you and Pat head to the ranch as soon as we’re done with lunch. Looks like there’s a storm brewing out to the southwest. You might have a wet camp tonight.”

  Scott nodded thoughtfully. “There are some well protected camping spots along the way where we can be out of sight and out of the weather. Should be back to the ranch by noon tomorrow. You best keep an eye out for Westin. Wouldn’t surprise me none for him to be laying up somewhere, waiting for you.”

  “Aye, laddie; Westin is a sorry excuse for a man. You should have killed him when you had a chance. Sorry, ma’am,” O’Reilly directed the last to Mrs. Diehl. “Don’t mean to bring up such at your fine table.”

  “Sergeant O’Reilly, my husband is a retired ranger. I’ve seen and heard good and bad, and I know about the likes of Bull Westin. Thank you, but you need not apologize for the truth at this table,” Mrs. Diehl said.

  “Thank you, ma’am. I do have a worry. I have a concern of me sister. Fianna is a lovely lass who has lived her life back East. I wouldn’t want some yahoo from Ruffcarn’s bunch bothering her with me not around to protect her.”

  “Pat, I can take care of myself,” Fianna said. “I’m no shrinking violet. I know how to shoot, and I know how to ride. I’ll not be bothered by anyone I don’t want bothering me. And, I’ll have you know, I’ve taken care of myself for a few years past.”

  “Now don’t be laying those fiery green eyes on your brother, girl. I care about you and that’s it.”

  “She’ll be safe with us,” Jeremiah Diehl said. “I’m not one to speak of myself, but let me just say, though I am a little older, I’m no stranger to gunplay. You need not worry about your sister.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Diehl,” Pat O’Reilly said. “’Tis happy I am that you’ll be keeping a watchful eye out for her. I trust Ruffcarn’s bunch not a bit, nor the likes of that Pierce. Mark my word, Pierce is a man who bears watching. He is much too slick I’m thinking.”

  “Pat, if you’re ready, we’ve got a long trail to get back to the Rocking N,” Scott said. “If we leave now, we might make the ranch by lunch or a little after tomorrow.”

  “Ready and raring I am, laddie. Come here, girl. Give your old brother a hug to help me on my way. It’s sorry I am we can’t be headed for the California country. But you know I must help a friend before we go.”

  Fianna got up from the table and walked around to her brother. “Pat, the fact that you can be counted on is one of the things I love about you. Don’t worry about me. We’ll go to California, or wherever we’re destined to be, when the time
comes. I love you, Pat. Now take good care of yourself.”

  Pat gathered her in his big, burly arms. “It’s truly good for these old eyes to see you again, lass. I’ll be back soon.”

  As Scott and Pat walked out the door, Josh stood to leave also. “Mr. and Mrs. Diehl, thank you for your hospitality. Be seeing you soon.”

  Josh walked toward the door where Fianna was standing. He stopped and looked down at her. She was too good for a Tennessee boy like him.

  Fianna extended her hand to him. “Thank you again for your assistance this morning. Won’t you please take care of yourself?”

  Josh took her hand. “Yes ma’am, I—”

  Fianna’s full, sweet lips spread in a touching smile, “Fianna, please Josh.”

  “Yes, Fianna, I sure will. You do the same.” He reluctantly released her hand and walked out, turning to his right to head down to the stables.

  Mr. Diehl walked back into the store.

  “Josh will be fine,” Mrs. Diehl said to Fianna, as she put her arm around her. “I’ve lived around men my whole life. Occasionally one like Josh comes along. There are few like him. I married mine.”

  Fianna, her green eyes glistening, smiled at Mrs. Diehl. “Thank you, but we’ve only just met.”

  “I know, dear. Sometimes it happens like that. Then it’s up to us to decide what must be done. Men are good at many things, and Josh is one of the best; but they’re seldom good at knowing a woman’s feelings—or even theirs. As I said, there are times when we must lovingly guide them.” Turning back to the table, she said, “Now, would you help me with these dishes?”

  Scott and Pat had pulled the wagon down to the stables and were tying their horses to the back of the wagon when Josh walked up. “I’ll ride with you boys for a ways.”

  “We can always use another set of eyes,” Pat said as he pulled his cavalry-issue .56/.52 Spencer out of the scabbard on his horse. He checked the Spencer to make sure it was fully loaded with one in the barrel and slid it up next to his seat on the wagon. He also put the Spencer case, with ten loaded magazines for rapid reload, next to him.

  “You still shooting that Spencer?” Josh asked.

  “Aye, I could have made the switch to the Henry, but I prefer the Spencer’s .52 caliber to that puny .44 of the Henry. When it is that I level the Spencer on something or someone, I know they’re going down. Unlike that new-fangled Winchester ye have. If there’s ever a Winchester that packs a wee bit more power, then I shall have one.”

  Tiny walked out of the stable leading Josh’s roan. The horse looked rested and ready to go. Josh slapped the horse on the rump, slid the Winchester into the boot, slipped his foot into the stirrup, and swung up. The roan started to bow his back, thought better of it, and shook his head. Josh felt the roan was equally ready to be off.

  “Tiny, we’ll see you in a couple of weeks. Okay, boys, lets move out,” Josh said.

  Pat popped the reins and clucked to the two horses pulling the wagon. They started south.

  “’Tis a pretty good ride we have ahead of us,” Pat said. “I’m noticing those clouds abuilding down south.”

  “Yep. We best keep the slickers handy. We’ll be needing them later today, if I don’t miss my guess,” Scott said, as he headed his horse south alongside the wagon. Josh guided the roan to the driver’s side.

  Josh touched his finger to his hat, and O’Reilly waved to Fianna as they pulled away from the stables. Fianna smiled and waved.

  Their actions weren’t missed by the crew in the King 7 Saloon.

  “Looks like they’re on their way,” Ruffcarn said to Pierce. “That army sergeant is with them. Wonder how that happened?”

  “From what I hear,” Pierce said, “he and Logan were friends from the war. I see Penny is also with them. Seems Logan is planning to make a fight of it. This isn’t going to be as easy as you first thought.”

  “What he don’t know is that it’s going to be a short fight for him. Once Bull takes care of him, the rest will be easy,” Ruffcarn said.

  “Well, you just leave the O’Reilly girl to me,” Pierce replied. “I’ve got plans for her that don’t include anyone else. I saw that high-and-mighty look she had when she stepped off the stage. I can surely take care of that.”

  Ruffcarn turned from the door and looked at Pierce. He knew how Pierce had handled women in New Orleans. That was a major flaw in his personality. Several women had disappeared after being seen with Pierce, but the New Orleans police had never been able to prove anything. That worried Ruffcarn. Men of the West revered their women folk. There wasn’t much worse a man could do than to disparage or harm a woman in the West. Why he’d be hunted down like a varmint, then treated worse.

  “Wesley, why don’t you just let her be. We don’t need that kind of trouble.”

  Pierce turned his cold eyes on Ruffcarn. “You take care of your own business and keep your nose out of mine. Nobody will know what happened to her. Anyway, if they should find her, when I’m through with her they’ll figure it was Indians.”

  Even with his concerns, Ruffcarn needed Pierce. He also didn’t want to rile the King 7 owner. Pierce wasn’t a man to anger. Ruffcarn watched the wagon and men out of sight, and returned to the table to finish his drink.

  Chapter 12

  Josh led off, as they traveled almost due south leaving the town. Though it was early afternoon, the heat of the sun was beginning to dissipate as it disappeared behind the growing cloud bank.

  Scott eyed the approaching thunderheads as they pushed and roiled themselves upward, turning darker with the sun behind them. “Don’t think we’ll make more than ten or twelve miles before that weather catches us.”

  Pat nodded. “Aye, ‘tis likely true. We’ll be wet for sure before the day ends—not like we haven’t been there before.”

  The three men kept their eyes moving as they drew farther from the town and fort.

  Josh, though he was deep in thought, didn’t let that distract him from screening every tree and bush along the trail. Comanches could hide in the open and they’d never be seen until it was too late.

  Josh turned slightly in the saddle to face the wagon. “I don’t imagine Bull left the country. My bet is he’s somewhere ahead, hoping to get a shot at me. I don’t think he’ll try anything until we split up—that’s the way back shooters work. But still, if he found the right place that would give him good cover and protection, he might give it a try.”

  “Aye, a brave man he’s not. Although I hear he’s deadly with that Sharps.”

  Scott nodded. “I can vouch for that. He loads that .52 caliber monster with 475 grains of powder. I’ve seen him knock down a buffler at over 500 yards. I can’t stand the man, but he can shoot.”

  The trio traveled in silence for several miles, listening to thunder rumble from the approaching line of thunderstorms.

  Pat moved around on the wagon seat for a more comfortable position. “We’re gonna get wet for sure, and it’ll be soon. Looks to me like it’s gonna be a gully washer. How about stopping for a pot of coffee while we can.”

  Josh looked across at a flash of lightning. “Good idea. It’s early enough where the fire shouldn’t be noticed. Smoke will dissipate fast with this wind. Let’s pull down into that patch of oaks.”

  Pat guided the wagon between rocks as they pulled into the stand of pin oaks. The men dismounted, tied their horses, and while Josh remained on lookout, Pat and Scott quickly found some wood that would burn with little smoke. Scott dug a shallow hole for protection from the wind, shaved some tender and started the fire. The wood caught quickly.

  Pat pulled some coffee from the wagon and tossed it into the pot of boiling water, moved it to the edge of the coals, and walked over to Josh. “Those buffalo are quite a sight, aren’t they?”

  Josh had been watching a small herd of about two hundred move across the prairie several miles ahead. “Yes, they are. Looks like the weather is starting to make them a little nervous. Don’t think any animal like
s that lightning. I know I sure don’t. It’s getting a lot closer. Hope we can finish the coffee and get on our way before it hits.”

  “Coffee’s ready,” Scott called. “Get it while you can. Looks like the wind is starting to shift from the east to the west. I’d say we’re in for a major blow.”

  “Not the best coffee that’s ever passed my lips, but it gets the blood flowing,” Pat allowed.

  They quickly finished their coffee, dumped the pot onto the fire and covered the remaining coals with dirt. The three men grabbed their slickers and got them on just as the first gust hit.

  “Don’t like that green tint in those clouds,” Scott observed. “Reckon we could get some hail out of this, and maybe worse. Could be a tornado hiding in that thing.”

  Lightning slammed into a tree. The horses’ eyes were rolling, and the team looked like it was ready to take off. Josh grabbed the roan and calmed it. Pat worked with the team, and Scott handled the remaining two horses. There was a slight hillock deeper into the trees. Josh yelled, “Get the team and horses behind that rise. That’ll break some of the wind and give us a little more protection if it should start hailing.”

  They moved the team and other horses behind the rise just as the main force of the storm hit them. The heavy rain was bad enough. In just minutes, everything was drenched. Then it started hailing. It started out small, the size of sleet, then the large hail came.

  “Get under the wagon,” Josh yelled.

  They scrambled under the wagon at the same time trying to control the team and their other horses. It was the best they could do. Josh watched helplessly as the hail bounced off the horses’ backs. The trees and the hill were blocking most of it, but he could still see them wince when they took a direct hit.

  Scott leaned over and yelled, “Wish there was some way we could protect the horses more. They’re sure taking a beating.”

  “Hopefully, this’ll not be lasting long,” Pat yelled back over the noise of the wind and hail as the hail continued to beat their horses.