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

by Donald L. Robertson

  “I’m thinkin’ if this doesn’t turn him around, nothing will. I’ll tell you, Josh, I’m tired of killing. I truly am. I’ve been doing this since I was a wee lad of eighteen; joined the army in Massachusetts. I’ll do what I must, but it would please me to no end to never look over my rifle barrel at another man—excepting of course, Bull Westin. I said before and I’ll say it again, there’s a man who deserves killing.”

  “I reckon that won’t be too long in coming,” Josh said.

  Chancy’s head whipped up and his ears turned to the other bank. Pat’s horse did the same thing a few seconds later. The bank was too high to see over, and the two men, while talking, had heard nothing. Josh looked over at Pat as the two men slid their rifles out of the scabbards and removed the thongs from their revolvers’ hammers. I don’t know if these hands will let me draw, but I know I can use this rifle.

  Without changing the tone of his voice, Josh spoke again to Pat. “Sounds like the boys are moving the cattle on down to the ranch.”

  “Yeah,” Pat said. “Are you thinking we should go down and join them. Maybe give them a hand?”

  Josh whispered, “Ready?”

  Pat nodded affirmatively, and they charged up the river bank to find Travels Far and four of his braves waiting.

  Travels Far was surprised that they were armed and ready. “Josh Logan, how you know we are here?”

  Josh shoved his rifle back into its scabbard. “My horse here told me.”

  “Ah,” Travels Far said and translated to the Kickapoo braves. They nodded knowingly. “Fine horse.”

  “Yes,” Josh said. “What brings you over here?”

  “Follow Comanches. They are moving south. Maybe toward your herd.”

  “How many in the bunch?” Josh asked.

  “Twelve. Eyes of Hawk leads.”

  Josh turned to Pat. “We’ve got to help them. We haven’t heard any shooting, so we may be in time.”

  Pat swung his horse around to head toward the herd. “Let’s go.”

  “Travels Far, we must save our friends. It’s not your fight, but if you want to join. …”

  Travels Far again spoke to his braves, and they all nodded, “That’s why we here.”

  They rode out of the trees, leaving the concealment behind. There was no time for hiding; they must get to the herd before Bill and his men were attacked. Josh raised his rifle and fired a shot. It would alert the cowhands. Hopefully they would have time to get ready for the Comanches.

  Almost immediately, other shots were fired and they could hear the whooping of the Comanches. Fortunately they weren’t far. As they rode over the last rise, they could see the herd stretched out in the valley, traveling west. The herd was speeding up with the shooting taking place. Josh could see the Comanches spread out moving down from the north. They had been forced to attack before they were ready. When Travels Far and his Kickapoo braves saw the Comanches, they let out a whoop and, leaning far over their horses’ necks, raced to the fight.

  Bill and his men had swung down from their horses behind boulders on the other side of the valley. The Comanches fired from their horses’ backs. Their ambush broken, they pressed the attack in hope of killing the white men before the others arrived. Josh, Pat, and the Kickapoos had pulled into range, and, from a gallop, began firing to drive them off.

  They were getting close. Josh could see two men down, but couldn’t make out who they were. Dust from the herd and the racing horses made it difficult to see. When they were within fifty yards of the Comanches, Josh jerked Chancy to a stop. Chancy had been through this before. He dug in his back feet, almost squatting to the ground with his front legs stiff and slid for several feet. When he came to a stop, he stood stock still, except for his heavy breathing, and gave Josh an excellent firing platform. With four shots, Josh emptied two saddles and a third brave barely stayed on his horse. Pat was firing on his right. Two more Comanches went down. Josh saw a Comanche rise up from the ground to his right. He recognized Eyes of Hawk. Josh knew he would never get a shot off before the Indian fired. He saw the smoke from the Comanche’s rifle and Chancy collapsed from under him. He kicked his feet free from the stirrups and rolled as Chancy fell to the ground. Blood was seeping from his neck. Not now. Not after all we’ve been through. He brought his rifle to his shoulder, searching for Eyes of Hawk. He was gone.

  Josh knelt beside Chancy. There was no movement; the horse was limp. He examined the wound. It was just a few inches in front of the saddle, maybe an inch or two deep. A chill went through Josh as he considered the possibility that the horse’s neck was broken.

  Travels Far raced up next to a Comanche brave. As the Comanche turned with his bow, Travels Far swung his tomahawk and smashed in his enemy’s skull. The Comanche fell limp from his horse. Another of the Kickapoo braves had wounded a Comanche, and they were now on the ground fighting to the death. The Comanche brave was wounded in the side from a gunshot, but was fighting bravely. He thrust at the circling Kickapoo with his knife, the blade drawing blood from the Kickapoo’s left arm, but the Comanche was slow recovering, probably from the loss of blood. The Kickapoo brave stepped in and drove the blade of his knife deep into the Comanche’s chest. The two embraced in a dance of death, the Comanche’s knife falling from his limp hand. The Kickapoo pushed the Comanche away, and before the Comanche brave hit the ground, the Kickapoo had scalped him. He extended his arm, with the dripping scalp, high above his body, and let out a single whoop.

  The remaining Comanches raced away to the east, disappearing in the thick foliage along Pecan Bayou. Josh surveyed the Kickapoos and Pat. No one was hurt. That was a miracle. The Comanches expected four easy scalps, but instead were decimated. A tribe couldn’t stand those kind of losses.

  Pat rode to where the Rocking N men had made a stand. “Where’s Josh?” he asked.

  Scott said, “I saw him go down on the other side of the herd. Look, I see him standing, but I don’t see his horse.” The cattle were between the men and Josh.

  “I’m hoping nothing happened to that horse. He’s more important to Josh than his own life,” Pat said to Scott. Pat turned and pushed through the cattle until he could see Josh and Chancy. Chancy was on his side.

  As Pat rode nearer he could see the blood flowing from the horse’s neck. Josh was on his knees next to Chancy.

  “It was Eyes of Hawk,” Josh said. “I couldn’t get on him fast enough.”

  Pat had seen this big man caring for Chancy all through the war, and Chancy returned the favor, running his heart out when it was necessary. Now it was over, and Josh had all of his hopes and plans tied to this animal.

  Chancy moved his head. He blinked his eyes for a moment, and then stood up. Blood was still coming from the neck wound.

  “’Tis a miracle for sure,” Pat said in awe.

  Josh turned to Pat. “That blasted Indian creased my horse. Uncle Floyd talked of mustangers out west capturing horses like that. It’s a terrible practice. The mustangers end up killing fifty horses for the one they get. Josh took the reins and walked Chancy around, then led the horse over to where Scott and the rest of the men were. Pat rode alongside.

  The Kickapoos were busy whooping and scalping.

  “’Tis a bloody business. I’m just glad they’re on our side.”

  Josh looked over the carnage, his face grim, “You’re right, Pat. Like you said earlier, I’m mighty tired of this myself. But sometimes it can’t be helped. We didn’t ask for it.”

  Bill was down with an arrow sticking through his upper thigh. Lee was dead from a bullet through his chest. Josh walked up leading Chancy and moved to where Bill lay on the ground. He kneeled next to him and examined the wound. “That looks like a pretty bad hit. Fortunately, it didn’t hit an artery and didn’t strike the bone.”

  “Yep, but it hurts like the dickens,” Bill muttered, then clinched his teeth from the pain. When the spasm had passed, he said, “Scott saved my life. The Indian what shot me was about to put another arro
w in me when Scott rode up. He must have emptied his sixgun into him. I sure owe that boy.” Pain racked Bill again, as Scott walked over, shaking his head.

  Scott was standing by Bill Nance. “It’s a good thing you boys fired that shot. Why, we would have been goners. Those Indians had an ambush set up that would have kilt us all. As it is, they got Lee and Mr. Nance. My big question is why you came back—and with those Kickapoo.”

  “They found us,” Josh said. “When we came out of the creek, they were waiting. Chancy heard ‘em and we were ready. Figured we were going to have to try to fight our way through a bunch of Comanches. They were a sight for sore eyes. They told us about following the Comanches, and we all figured they were heading for you. So here we are,” Josh said. He sighed and looked over at Lee. “Just wish we could’ve been a little quicker.”

  Travels Far walked up to Josh, his arms and hands covered with blood. “We go.”

  “Was Eyes of Hawk among the dead?” Josh asked.

  “No. He get away again.”

  Bill eased up onto one elbow, “Well, whether he’s dead or not, again we are in your debt. We owe you much.” He gritted his teeth for a moment with the pain. As it subsided, he relaxed and continued, “How can we repay you?”

  Travels Far looked solemnly at Bill, “You good man. Need nothing now. Maybe cattle in winter when game is short.” He turned to Josh, shook his hand one giant shake, and leaped on his horse. His men joined him, and they rode slowly toward the north.

  Scott shook his head. “Never thought I’d be in debt to a Kickapoo.”

  Bill looked up at Josh. “If you’ll break off the long part of that arrow, I think I can ride on to the ranch. Teresa will be able to fix me up.”

  Josh squatted again and grasped the arrow in his two big hands. “Mr. Nance, this is gonna hurt some.”

  “Do it, Josh.”

  Josh broke the arrow, and Nance almost passed out from the pain. “I reckon we’ll ride on to the ranch with you,” Josh said. I’ll get one of those rustlers’ horses. Chancy was shot in the neck, and I need to get him doctored up. Also looks like you’ll need some help with the cattle.

  Nance shook his head. “No need. Scott’s here. With Jack and Slim we’ll make it fine.”

  Slim spoke up. “Mr. Logan, take Rusty’s dun mustang. That there horse is fast, and he’s a stayer. I think Rusty would be glad you were riding him.”

  “Thanks for the suggestion, Slim,” Josh said. “Scott, can you take Chancy back to the ranch with you and make sure he gets doctored up? I think he’ll be fine as long as the wound doesn’t get infected.”

  “Sure will, Josh,” Scott said.

  “Juan is one of the best horse doctors I’ve ever seen,” Bill said. “He’ll take care of your horse. When you get back, that horse will be as good as new.” Bill looked around. “I don’t reckon the Comanches will be back today. They got a pretty tough whipping. You and Pat head on to Camp Wilson. By the way, thanks for saving our bacon. We’d been goners had you not come back.”

  “Go ahead, Josh,” Scott said. “We’ll take care of your horse and nurse these cattle back to the ranch. Mr. Nance here will be fine.”

  Slim had been watching. “Mr. Nance, don’t know if this is the right time or not, but I’ve got to tell you and Mr. Logan something.”

  Bill looked up at Slim and said, “Go ahead, boy. This is as good a time as any. I’m not hankering on gettin’ on that horse anyway.”

  “Well, sir, it’s something Grizzard was talking about to one of the other boys in the bunkhouse … I kinda overheard them. Grizzard was saying that Mr. Ruffcarn wanted your ranch.”

  “Nothing new about that, Slim,” Bill said.

  “Yes, sir, but Grizzard said that he had heard Mr. Ruffcarn and Wesley Pierce talking. They were saying there was gold on your ranch.”

  “Why, they’re danged fools. There’s no gold on this ranch. Never has been, never will be.”

  “Yes, sir. He, Grizzard that is, said that just before the war, there was a bunch of Yankees trying to get a wagon of gold down to the coast. He said the Comanches attacked them and killed all but two, and they managed to get away. But before the other soldiers were killed, they hid the wagon. He said that Mr. Ruffcarn and Mr. Pierce said that it’s on your ranch.”

  Bill Nance shook his head. “I can’t believe that’s what this is all about. I’ve lived on this ranch since long before the war. That rumor went around just as the war started. But there’s not a shade of truth to it as far as gold is concerned. I understand those boys were killed a long way northwest of my ranch, and it was only a wagon of supplies. But what I see as important here is that Pierce and Ruffcarn are working together. That explains why Ruffcarn spends so much time at the King 7.”

  Josh said, “Now that we know they’re working together, that’ll be to our advantage. For now, though, you need to get to the ranch and get that leg looked after.”

  “You’re right. Slim, thanks for telling us. Now you boys give me a hand getting on this horse and put Lee across his saddle. We’ll bury him at the ranch.”

  Josh rubbed Chancy’s nose as he switched saddles and gear with the mustang and stepped into his saddle, “See you in a couple of days. Pat you ready to try again?”

  Pat grinned and said, “I am Major laddie. I’m aching to see my wee sister and maybe visit Mr. Starit’s establishment. Just do me a favor and don’t find me anymore Injuns today.”

  Josh and Pat turned their horses to the north.

  “What say, on the way to Camp Wilson, we swing by Ruffcarn’s place and just see what’s happening there?” Josh asked.

  “You’re all about trouble, aren’t you, Major? But maybe a little reconnoitering will be worth our while.”

  Chapter 22

  “Come,“ Governor James W. Throckmorton ordered, at the knock on his door.

  His aide stepped into the Texas Governor's office, closing the door as he entered.

  “Yes, what is it Phillip?” the governor said, scowling at his aid. “You know I don’t have much time left in this office. If I last the remainder of this month, I’ll be surprised.”

  “I know, Governor, but I felt this might be important. When you were a ranger, did you ever come in contact with a ranger by the name of Bill Nance?”

  “Yes, I did," Throckmorton replied, surprised that Phillip would be mentioning Bill Nance's name after so many years. “We served in Mexico together, and later, in the rangers. In fact, I dug a bullet out of him that he had picked up chasing Comanches. Is there a problem?”

  Phillip’s brow wrinkled with a frown. “Well, Governor, I’ve heard from two senators who were also in the rangers, someone is trying to nullify the land grants that Mr. Nance received. It encompasses the water rights along the Jim Ned Creek and Pecan Bayou. I thought you might be interested.”

  The governor’s eyes narrowed. “Have you the name of this person?”

  “Yes, Governor, it’s Senator Wilson, from Beaumont, and I’ve heard that he’s working with a businessman from New Orleans.”

  “Get that little weasel in my office today. If he doesn’t want to come, tell him I’ll have him escorted by some of my less patient friends. I’ll have no one stealing the ranch of a good man like Bill Nance. I’ll stop this, even if it’s my last act as governor.”

  Phillip turned. His rapid steps echoed on the wooden floor as he started for the door.

  “Oh, Phillip, one other thing. Ask Senator Hayes to join me for lunch in my office today. I think he may be able to help quash this theft quickly.”

  Without breaking stride, Phillip answered, “Yes, sir,” as he hurried through the door, closing it behind him.

  Ruffcarn slammed the door, stomped into his ranch house, and flung his hat across his desk. “Bankes, we’re not going to wait for that Austin bunch to get around to awarding us that land. I want Nance and all his people off the Rocking N—now. I don’t care how you do it.” Ruffcarn dropped into the chair behind his desk and poured a dr
ink into a dirty glass. “That ranch is going to be mine, and it’s going to be mine now.”

  Bankes slid his hat to the back of his head and calmly said, “You’re talking about a big job. Did you get a real good look at the house and bunkhouse? They both are made of limestone at least a foot thick. The two windows cover each other and the barn. You toss in the second story of the house, with windows all around, and you've got a heap of trouble."”

  Ruffcarn shouted, “I don’t care what they’ve got, I want them out of there!”

  “Mr. Ruffcarn, two things. I’m no fool. I fight where I know I have at least an even chance of winning. You saw the new hands that Nance hired. Those cowboys know how to fight, or I don’t know men. Just with the hands he has now, he can defend himself forever and kill a lot of folks doing it.”

  “Bankes, you said two things.”

  Grizzard Bankes leaned back and locked his eyes on Ruffcarn. “Yes, I did. You hired my gun, and if there’s killing that needs to be done I’ll do it. But I’m not your personal slave to be yelled at. If that’s the way you want it, you need to find somebody else. I brook no man raising his voice to me more than once.”

  Ruffcarn’s face turned white and there was a slight tremor in his hands. “I understand. I’m sorry I yelled. I just want those people off that ranch, and I didn’t appreciate the way Nance insulted me. But you understand, you work for me.”

  Bankes still held Ruffcarn’s gaze. “I do until I don’t. Now do you still want me to run Nance off his ranch? You’re going to lose a lot of men, and, don’t forget, there are two women on the ranch. I don’t kill women.”