Josh walked into the kitchen where everyone waited. Teresa fussed around getting all the food on the table, while Nance seated Mary. Josh sat next to Nance, facing Mary across the table. Juan was there with a couple of cowhands Josh hadn’t met. He figured they must have driven the horses to Brownwood with Bill Nance. That was still a mighty small crew for a ranch this size.
“Josh, those two boys at the end of the table are Frank Milman and Lee Stanton,” Bill Nance said. “Lee’s first name is Leonard, but don’t call him that. He’s not very fond of the name.”
The cowboys nodded and Lee said, “Mr. Nance, you know I’m partial to Lee. My mother liked Leonard; I never could figure why.”
As everybody pitched in, Bill Nance said sharply, “Well, Josh, I guess you’d better git to it.”
Mary looked questioningly from her father to Josh. There was something in her father’s voice. The constant clamor, so common to a ranch house kitchen at dinner time, suddenly ceased. An ominous quiet settled over the people assembled at the table as they all turned expectantly to Josh.
Josh looked closely at Mary. Her dark eyebrows lifted questioningly as she looked from him to her father and back.
“Bill, I left Rory near Cedar Creek, Virginia in the Shenandoah Valley. It was the Battle of Cedar Creek. Don’t know if you heard about it or not. We were assigned to escort General Sheridan back to his headquarters. He’d been in Washington, meeting with Secretary of War, Edwin M. Stanton. General Early’s troops attacked our lines the morning of October 19, 1864. When General Sheridan received the message, we rushed back to find our lines retreating and in turmoil. The General turned the troops around and attacked. We were detailed to find and attack Early’s cavalry.”
Josh looked around the table. The cowhands sat quietly listening. Those boys probably fought on the Confederate side. Josh wondered what they must think, sitting at this table, eating with a Yankee they would have gladly gunned down only a short time ago, and still might if they got half a chance.
He looked again at Mary. He could see the concern on her face, but it was obvious she hadn’t yet considered the possibility that Rory might be dead.
“We had them on the run,” Josh continued, “but those boys were real fighters. We cornered almost a troop in a bend of Cedar Creek. They decided to fight it out, probably figured it would be impossible to make it across the river alive. I’ll give it to them. They had guts. They turned, formed a skirmish line, and charged right back at us. Why, that was some of the hardest fighting I’d been in throughout the whole war. Both sides emptied their handguns, it was man to man, saber to saber. We had them outnumbered, but they fought like demons.”
Josh took a deep breath. He knew he had to tell this, but it was like being back there. He could hear the screams of men and horses, the crash of steel on steel, and feel his lungs and eyes burning from the stench of blood and gunpowder.
He could see Rory with his Colt Army in his left hand, swinging his saber with his right. Rory was on his left, fighting like a man possessed. A Reb Sergeant took the full force of Rory’s saber at the base of his neck. It almost cut him in half. Rory jerked the blade out and thrust it through the side of another Reb about to cut down one of his men.
The fighting was thick and fast. Horses and men were down, screaming from gunshot and saber wounds. Josh had been shot in his left leg. It didn’t feel like it was broken, but it was bleeding like crazy. He remembered hoping the bullet hadn’t hit his horse. Several Rebs had Josh busy. He shot one in the face, the bullet striking just below a scar under his right eye. Josh felt the searing pain of a glancing blow along his ribs. He forced himself to turn in the saddle, for he was growing weak from loss of blood, and with his last ounce of strength, thrust his saber clean through the wide-eyed, young Confederate Cavalryman who had dealt the blow.
“Bill,” Josh said, “I sure hate to upset the women-folk with this. There’s some left, and it surely gets worse.”
“Go ahead, Josh,” Bill Nance said sadly. “This is family, and it begs to be said.”
“Well, I was in pretty bad shape. I’d taken a bullet in the leg and had my ribs sliced open. I was losing a lot of blood and getting mighty weak. When I stuck the last Reb, his horse reared. I was so weak my saber was jerked clean out of my hand. My revolvers were empty, and there was this big Reb captain bearing down on me at full gallop. I reckoned I was a sure goner. All I could do was hang on to Chancy as the Reb bore down on me. I knew my time was surely up. Then Rory appeared out of the smoke. The last I’d seen him, he’d had his hands full. Now, there he was cutting between me and that big Reb captain. Neither of them slowed. Both horses went down when they hit.”
Josh turned and looked squarely at Bill Nance. “Bill, your son saved my life. Rory’s blade hit that captain straight through the heart, but he took the Reb’s thrust in the upper chest.”
Mary was sobbing uncontrollably into her apron as Teresa, with tears slowly coursing down her cheeks, tried to comfort the girl. Bill Nance was having a hard time. His big brown hands were quivering and his jaw muscles were knotted, but his eyes were clear. Juan sat quietly, a deep sadness etched across his wrinkled old face.
“That was the last of the fighting,” Josh continued. “I fell off my horse and dragged myself over to Rory. He was still alive, but in bad shape. I lifted him as best I could and rested him against his dead horse. ‘Josh, I ain’t got long,’ Rory told me. ‘I know you been talkin’ about goin’ to Colorado. But maybe you could make a little detour down through Texas. You can’t take me back, but you can take a message to my folks. Tell them I was buried in the Shenandoah Valley, alongside some mighty brave men, both blue and gray. But tell ‘em my heart’s in Texas. …’ He never finished. For he died, right then.”
Josh sat back and took a deep breath. He had lost a good friend in the Cedar Creek fight, but these folks had lost family.
Mary suddenly pushed her chair back from the table. Her eyes were red and her face streaked from tears. She glared at her father. “If it hadn’t been for you and Sam Houston, Rory might be alive today. All you talked about since I can remember was Texas joining and preserving the Union. Well, I don’t give a tinker’s damn about the Union. I just want my brother back.”
Then she turned back to Josh and fixed him with an icy stare. “And you, Mister Joshua Matthew Logan, you caused my brother’s death. If you hadn’t been his friend, and he hadn’t looked up to you so, he might be sitting here at this table instead of you!” With tears streaming down her face, Mary ran to her room.
“Excuse me, Señor Nance,” Teresa said. “I must go to her. She’s very upset. You know she worshipped her brother. But she doesn’t mean what she said. Señor Josh, I’m so sorry. Thank you for coming.”
Bill Nance looked around the table. Frank and Lee stared at their plates, embarrassed by Mary’s outburst, and Juan sat gazing out the window at the darkening hillside.
“You boys go ahead and finish supper,” Bill said. “No sense letting good food go to waste. We have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow. I’m going to step outside. Josh, would you join me? You, too, Juan, when you finish.”
“I am finished now, Señor. It will do me good to be outside.”
Josh followed Nance out the door. It was another cloudless night. The moon was bright enough to make out the hilltop overlooking the ranch where he’d been just hours before. They walked to the rock fence surrounding the house, checked for rattlesnakes, and sat down. Josh figured that from Mary’s response, he might as well plan on riding out in the morning. It was a shame she felt like that, but a man would have better luck reasoning with a bobcat as trying to reason with a woman when she had her mind set. He’d just pack up and head on for Colorado in the morning.
“Josh, what are your plans now that you’ve delivered Rory’s message?” Bill Nance asked.
“Bill, I’m riding up into Colorado Territory. There’s some land out there that an uncle purchased. My older brother, Callum, is headed directly from Tennessee. H
e and I left home together and parted in Nashville. He’ll be by himself until I get there. I’d like to be there before the first snow flies. There’s a massive amount of work that must be done to get the ranch going before winter sets in. I’m planning on crossing Chancy with the Spanish Mustang breed. I’m thinking the endurance of the Spanish, plus the speed of the Morgan should produce quite a horse. Chancy and I’ve been together since before I left home for the war, and I thought after we got to Colorado, I’d just let him relax and enjoy himself. He brought me through some tough scrapes, and I reckon he’s almost like family.”
“He is an excellent horse, Señor,” Juan said. “I know a little about horseflesh, and I have seen few like him. He should make you plenty of fine horses.”
“Josh,” Nance said, “for the past year we’ve been having some problems. The Indians have always been a problem, but you expect that out here. About a year ago, we started missing cattle. That was around the time that the Circle W ranch moved in. Now I can’t prove anything, but they’ve been increasing their herd size pretty fast. The owner, Jake Ruffcarn, has tried to buy me out a couple of times. This ranch is not for sale. Now that he’s brought in some gun-hands, I reckon I’ve got a good idea what he’ll try next. But he won’t get this ranch--not while I’m still alive.”
“Yeah, I’ve met a couple of his men,” Josh said. “One of ‘em, a guy by the name of Bull, was a mite unfriendly.”
“If you had a run-in with Bull Westin, you’d best watch your back. The man is a brawler and a back-shooter. If someone doesn’t shoot him first, he’ll eventually stretch a rope.”
Bill Nance took out his pipe and tobacco. He sat quietly, in the moonlight, while he packed the tobacco into his pipe. He didn’t light it, but put it into the corner of his mouth. “Josh, like a lot of people, we had it kinda rough during the war, what with me siding with Sam Houston, then Rory going off to fight for the North. Now I’m not complaining. Lots of folks had it much worse than us. We made it through fine. But since the war’s been over, we have a new kind of trash moving into Texas. They’re speculators and carpetbaggers.
“They’re here to rape the state, get rich quick, and get out. I hate to say it, but it looks like the army’s backing them up. I figure that this Jake Ruffcarn is one of them. You know if it looks like a snake, crawls like a snake, and bites like a snake, it’s pretty easy to figure out—it must be a snake.”
Josh sat quietly on the rock wall listening to Nance. He hadn’t planned on staying long, maybe just a few days to let the horse rest up, but this was Rory’s family. Even if his sister wished Josh were dead, they still needed help. The fact they had only two cowhands working the ranch indicated that most folks around here didn’t cotton to what they saw as Yankee sympathizers.
Well, he’d just hear Bill Nance out. Maybe there was some way he might help, without staying too long. There was the fort where Nance had taken the horses. He might just ride up there and have a little discussion with the Colonel. Anyway, Nance hadn’t asked him to stay yet.
“Josh, I guess what I’m saying is I need some help. Juan and I have been around some and we can sure take care of ourselves. But we only have two fellers workin’ for us. They’re good cowhands, but they ain’t gunfighters. The closest help, not counting the fort, is Duke Jackson down at the Gap. He opened his operation about three or four years ago. But he’s about a day’s ride and he has his own ranch to take care of, specially since it’s that Comanche time of year.
“I’m surprised they haven’t hit us yet. It boils down to the fact that we’re up against the Indians and Ruffcarn. So, if you could see your way clear, I’d be much obliged if you’d hang around for awhile. At least until things settle down.”
There it was. If he didn’t get moving pretty soon, the snow would catch him long before he could get to Colorado, and Callum would be stuck doing all the work alone, but these folks were Rory’s family, and they were in a tough situation. The only thing was, Mary sure didn’t want him around here. She’d made that pretty clear.
“What about Mary? She didn’t seem too pleased about me being here, and I reckon my staying won’t set too well either.”
“Josh,” Bill Nance said, “you’ve got to understand, she and her brother were real close. After their mother died, Rory took his sister under his wing. He virtually raised her until Teresa came along. I was gone a lot, rangerin’ during that time. So now she’s hurting real bad. I kinda figured something might have happened to Rory since we hadn’t heard from him. Then when you showed up I knew you wouldn’t be by yourself if he was still alive. So I was expectin’ it. I don’t think it ever entered her mind that he might be killed. He was bigger than life to her. Now she’s had a terrible shock. But she’s strong; she’ll get past this. Why, one of these days, she’ll thank you for staying.”
Josh thought about it for a moment more. A light breeze drifted up from the south, bringing a faint sour-sweet smell of a skunk. Something must have frightened it. A fox barked on the creek. Josh did like this country. He could understand why, so many years before, Bill Nance could have been entranced by the tales of Austin.
“Okay, Bill, I’ll stay for a while, at least till we get this Ruffcarn thing sorted out.”
“Good,” Nance said. “I’ve done a lot of rangerin’ and fightin’ in my time. But Juan and I are getting older. Rory wrote about your campaigns and tactics. I liked what I read. I want you to be foreman. You run the show. Just tell me what you need.”
Josh looked at Nance and Alvarez thoughtfully. “I appreciate the confidence. I’ll do my best. First thing we need are some more men; good men, not just gunslingers. I’ll leave for Camp Wilson tomorrow and look around.”
Bill Nance stuck out his hand. “Fine, Josh. Welcome to the Rocking N. I’ll tell the boys right now.”
“No, don’t tell anyone yet; not even Mary,” Josh said. “When I ride into Camp Wilson and do a little checking around, it’ll be on my own. I’m kinda curious how this colonel finds himself so able to side with Ruffcarn. I’ll just sniff around a little. Soldiers love to talk. You never know what they might say over a bottle.”
Juan Alvarez placed his hand on Josh’s shoulder. “Be careful, amigo. Ruffcarn’s men may be at Camp Wilson. This Bull is a dangerous man. Watch your back.”
Nance nodded his agreement. “You also want to be on the lookout for Indians. They’re out in force. We crossed several trails today on the way back from town. There’s nothing a Comanche likes better than a good horse. Believe me, if they see you, they’ll chase you till you drop.”
A smile played at the corner of Josh’s mouth. “Well then, if they see me, I reckon I better not run.”
I hope you enjoyed this sample of Logan’s Word. To order the book, please click on this link.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Completed books are a team project. The writer comes up with the first draft, but then the team takes over. I’d like to thank my team.
First, in all of my writing projects, is my lovely wife, Paula. Yes, she is my cheerleader, but she is more. She is the first to read my book or short story and offer insightful suggestions and recommendations. She also, thank goodness, takes care of all of the marketing, for which my gratitude is boundless.
Next is Bonnie Arnold, an excellent grammarian, who reads and turns the manuscript red.
Neither last nor least is my editor, Melissa Gray. I can only say that she must have the patience of Job. She has an eye for errors, and my books provide her a fertile landscape.
I’m sure you’re familiar with, “You can’t judge a book by its cover.” You may not be able to judge it, but I can assure you a striking cover that stops the eye sells more books. Thank you, Damonza for my great cover.
Finally, formatting determines whether or not the reader will be able to comfortably read a series of words that make up a book. Again, thank you, Damonza for the formatting.
BOOK LIST
By Donald L. Robertson
BOOKS
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LOGAN’S WORD
FORTY-FOUR CALIBER JUSTICE
SHORT STORIES
BECAUSE OF A DOG
THE OLD RANGER
Forty-Four Caliber Justice Page 24
