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Partners in Justice and Love: A Historical Western Romance Book

Page 2

by Lorelei Brogan


  Inside, the boys rushed off to their room, finding a couple of small toys to amuse themselves with. Janie showed Sara to a bedroom in which she could get her things settled. Afterward, she invited Sara to make herself comfortable, disappearing into the kitchen and returning with two glasses of lemonade. The women settled into small talk, avoiding the obvious topic weighing on both of their minds since there were still young ears around.

  As supper time neared, Sara joined Janie in the kitchen. She welcomed a distraction from the thoughts reeling in her mind. She stood by, watching Janie and searching for an opportunity to help.

  “You have a lovely place, here,” Sara said, mixing up a batch of cornbread. “You said that you and Tom built the house, is that right?”

  “Yes, with a good deal of help, that is,” Janie replied, kindling the fire to cook the steaks. “That is how we met Hodges. He was looking for work, and a few people in town knew that we would be needing help in getting the place up and running. Someone was kind enough to point him in our direction. This place would not have been the same without his help.”

  “How fortunate! Tom has always been talented at working with his hands. But building a house is no simple feat.”

  “It certainly is not! He and I sat down and designed this ranch to be a dream come true for us. Of course, I was still expecting Charley at the time but we planned it with children in mind, eager to give them all the joys of childhood in such a place.” The steaks hissed as Janie laid them in the sizzling pan, filling the house with an aroma that made Sara’s mouth water.

  “The boys do appear to have taken to the frontier,” Sara agreed, glancing into the sitting room where they played.

  “That they have. They regularly help me collect eggs from the chicken coop, and they’re never far behind Hodges. It amazes me the things they’ve learned at such young ages.”

  Sara nodded. “And what of the other cowhand you mentioned? Did he come along later?”

  “Yes, he is a good deal younger than Hodges, barely nineteen-years-old. He is not afraid of hard work, though. Hodges recommended that we hire him, assuring us that he was as trustworthy as they come. Both the hands are wonderful with the boys, teaching them something or other at every opportunity.”

  Janie soon pulled the steaks off of the heat, plating the meal and allowing the aroma to tempt the boys toward the table. Sara scooped out pieces of cornbread, and they all sat down to a relaxed meal.

  After supper, Sara waited in the sitting room while Janie put the boys to bed. Though the mild night did not need added warmth, the flickering firelight cast a warm glow on the wooden rafters of the house. A gentle, albeit humid, breeze drifted through the open windows, sending the curtains floating into the air. She sipped on the cup of tea Janie had given her, noting how well her sister-in-law had done at making their new place feel like home.

  Janie quietly pulled the boys’ bedroom door closed behind her as she returned to the sitting room. “Those two have not slept well since the sheriff arrested Tom,” she sighed. “They are full of questions that I do not have answers to. Their father is a good man. How do I explain the situation without breaking their belief in that?”

  Sara’s shoulders drooped. The family had borne enough grief already, and the trial was sure to be nerve-wracking. Finally, able to speak freely, she asked the question that had haunted her all day. “I do not understand it. Tom has never been a violent man. How did this happen?”

  Janie poured herself a cup of tea before taking her usual seat. “I don’t know.” She shook her head. “I have not had the chance to speak to him since the arrest. None of this makes sense. I will admit that Tom had been spending far too much time in the gambling saloon. But the idea of him pulling a knife on someone is outrageous!” Tears began welling up in Janie’s eyes, dripping down her cheeks. Sara moved over to the couch with her, placing an arm around her shoulders.

  “The men that have accused him are known for their crooked ways, but their evidence seems sound. I don’t understand what could have come over him.”

  Sara nodded thoughtfully. “At very least, he must have been provoked. You say the men are crooks?”

  “Levi Moran runs the gambling saloon in Oakmede. He is a man who knows how to get what he wants. And the men who work for him make sure it happens. I have never cared for Tom spending time in their establishment, but my wishes did little to stop him. The stresses of the ranch’s faltering finances had been weighing heavily on him, there was no doubt about that. But there are far better places to seek distraction from life’s problems. Now look where it has gotten him!

  “One afternoon, a friend from town came rushing to the house to tell me that Tom was in jail! They said that a brawl had broken out in the saloon between Tom and two of Moran’s men. They claimed that he assaulted them with a weapon, and the sheriff put Tom in jail. If he is found guilty, he is sure to be sentenced to prison time.” Janie’s tears began to flow once more as she crumpled onto Sara’s shoulder.

  “Now, I know it looks bad, but nothing has been proven yet,” Sara reminded her. “Tom’s not the type to throw a punch, let alone pull a weapon. Surely there’s something the sheriff is missing.”

  “That is what scares me the most,” Janie sobbed. “Sheriff Graves hasn't got the backbone to stand up to Levi Moran. He has allowed him to swindle the people of Oakmede out of their livelihoods! Even if Tom is innocent, I am not sure that the sheriff would stand up for him.”

  Sara stared off into the fire as she searched for any other idea. “How about a deputy sheriff? If Sheriff Graves is too afraid to stand up for justice, perhaps another lawman would.”

  “He hasn’t got a deputy. The position has been open for as long as I can remember. No one seems to want it, and Moran is probably why.”

  “Is there anyone else who might have witnessed the incident? Perhaps they could be of some help at the trial.”

  Janie shook her head. “If there were any witnesses, they have not spoken up and are not likely to. As I said, Moran is nothing short of a criminal, and not a person you would want to cross. It is doubtful that anyone would put themselves in such a position.” She sighed and rubbed her eyes, struggling to ease the strain on them.

  “I do not believe that Tom would do something like this any more than you do, but getting worked up over it tonight will not help anything,” Sara sighed. She handed Janie her teacup back and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Something is sure to come up before the trial. There is nothing more we can do until then.”

  “I suppose you are right,” Janie sighed. “But shouldering all of this alone has me completely exhausted. Whatever the outcome turns out to be, I am thankful you are here. I don’t think I could face this trial without you.”

  “I would never let you do that,” Sara assured her. “Whatever comes, we will find our way through it together. And if justice prevails, I am sure that Tom will be acquitted.”

  Janie agreed, and the two of them decided that they should try to get some much-needed sleep. The days to follow would be strained enough without their exhaustion intensifying the stress.

  Chapter 2

  Logan Payne spurred his horse along the trail, pulling the harness lead of the horse beside him. He glanced over at his prisoner, who rode along in silence. The man glared at Logan, but returned his attention elsewhere, resolving himself to his fate.

  The sun glistened off of Logan’s revolver, offering a constant reminder of why the prisoner would not be escaping. The rough terrain on either side of the path gave as much assurance, as a rider with hands tied behind him had little hope of navigating such a place.

  Logan wiped the sweat from his face that had dripped down onto his mustache, thankful to see the little town of Harris Bend coming into view. He urged his steed on, anxious to reach the sheriff’s office and take a short break from the heat. Logan stopped in front of the office and dismounted, pulling the other man to the ground. He tied the horses near the watering trough and lugg
ed the man inside.

  “Sheriff, I have one Nathan Fowler for you.” Logan shoved the man toward the sheriff’s desk, causing the lawman to come to his feet.

  “It is good to see you, Logan. How did you manage to catch up with him?” Sheriff Henderson asked, pushing the outlaw into a cell. “I have been on his trail for months!”

  “I suppose you have to know where to look. Fowler was hiding out, waiting for the stage north of here. It is vulnerable there, and an easy target for an experienced robber,” Logan said. He took his hat off and smoothed his light-brown hair back into place. “Now, I believe there was a reward on his head.”

  “Yes, sir, and you have earned it,” the sheriff replied. “Come with me, and we will get it sorted for you.”

  “Have there been sightings of any other outlaws? Even with this money, I am still short of what I need,” Logan pushed, following the sheriff.

  Sheriff Henderson handed Logan his payment, along with a stack of wanted posters. “These are the men who have been spotted close enough to warrant a search. But the regional office does not always get word through to this little place. There are a few there that have a higher price on their heads. But, of course, they tend to be the more dangerous ones.”

  Logan nodded, giving the sheriff a knowing glance.

  “I do not doubt that you could manage any of the men there,” the sheriff added. “But I know you stepped away from bounty hunting for a reason. It is a dangerous line of work, and if you are only looking to make a set amount of money…”

  “I know what you mean,” he nodded.

  “In any case, will you stay long enough for coffee?” the sheriff offered. “Wherever you go from here, it is a long time in the saddle.”

  Logan accepted and decided to stay for lunch as well. As he rode out of town later that day, he counted out the two hundred dollars that the sheriff had paid as a reward for Fowler. His thoughts drifted to life in Oakmede and the scene that awaited him.

  When his sister, Janie, had settled on her new ranch with her husband Tom, Logan had promised to settle down with them. He had left his days of bounty hunting behind, helping tend to the herd and keep up with the handyman work. He enjoyed the chance to be around his nephews too. That was a much easier way of life, and a whole lot less dangerous.

  But everything had changed a few months ago when Tom came to him in desperate search of help, and he could not turn his brother-in-law down. The rough winter had left Tom in a state of exhaustion. The brutal cold had stolen their hopes for profit in the spring, and funds were growing tight.

  Tom knew that they could not make ends meet without a good cattle drive, and he had searched out any means of a quick dollar. The men at Moran’s gambling saloon always had money to spare. Feeling he had no other option, Tom tried his hand at their game and it cost him dearly. By the time he sought out Logan’s help, he owed two thousand dollars to the swindlers.

  Logan had warned Tom to stay away from Levi Moran. Nothing good ever came from trying to play him at his own game. But that was all irrelevant now. Tom had a debt to pay, and Moran would make sure he got his money. Tom was desperate, and Logan knew of only one way to produce that kind of money; to return to bounty hunting. He feared the outcome of breaking his promise to Janie, but Moran would stop at nothing to get his money out of Tom.

  Logan had made a deal with the men. If they postponed collection on Tom’s debt, he would pay it for him within six months. Logan made Tom give his word never to tell Janie of his reasons for breaking his promise. He knew she would not forgive Tom for putting her brother back in harm’s way. And most of all, he insisted that Tom stay as far from Moran and his card sharks as possible. The last thing they needed was more trouble.

  In just three months, Logan had nearly earned the required sum. Only a couple of hundred dollars more, and he would be able to put this life behind him for good. He rode along the dusty path, always keeping an eye on the tree line in the distance.

  Though a good many people appreciated his efforts to keep the peace, there were at least as many who wanted him out of commission. He pulled the small collection of wanted posters from his saddlebag and flipped through them, determining who might be his next best target.

  Having spent four years on the ranch fixing fences and tending cattle, he felt that his tracking skills were a bit rusty. But he knew this territory well and took advantage of the fact that most thought he had retired. Settling on one criminal he was familiar with, he set off for the low country.

  Crossing over into Colorado, Logan’s mind returned to the old days after the war. He had spent a few years covering this territory, ridding it of trouble and making a good living doing it. There had been no reason for him to return to Baltimore. It held little besides painful memories for him. Sure, his mother and Janie were still there at the time, but with his father dead, there was no longer a need for him to protect the women from the cruel man as he had done for most of his childhood. Somehow, freedom from the past was enough to make the dangers of the job worth it.

  The wilds of the frontier had become his home for several years. It wasn’t until Janie and Tom settled in Oakmede that he actually took up residence somewhere. Before that he had lived a nomadic existence, riding from one town to the next, and living out of inns on the nights when he wanted a real bed. However, many other nights he’d found himself sleeping under the starry sky.

  He clicked his heels against his horse, urging it off of the path and toward a stream. The heat was unrelenting, and the animal was beginning to slow. Stopping in a shady patch near the creek, he swung himself to the ground and let the horse drink. He scooped up a handful of the fresh, cool water and splashed it across his face.

  Soon, he would be able to return to the ranch and find relief from the hardships of the trail. But until then, he was content to find a place to sit and rest for a spell. He swung his leg over a low-hanging tree branch and leaned against the trunk, propping his feet up. Letting his hat tip down over his eyes, he welcomed a few minutes of much-needed rest. His horse was sure to alert him of anyone approaching, and most of the men that he had a need to be concerned with did not know he was back on their trail.

  Once the heat of the day had subsided, Logan dug in his saddlebag and produced the last bit of cornbread that remained from lunch. Finally brushing the crumbs away, he took a good long drink and swung himself back into the saddle. The ride to the next town would still take several hours, and darkness would inevitably surround him by then. He checked the rifle in his saddle slot, making sure he was prepared for whatever might lurk in the night. The revolver at his hip was at the ready as well.

  By the time evening fell, he had ridden deep into the low-country. The mountain range in front of him surged high into the Western sky, making darkness creep over the valley as soon as the sun dipped behind the peaks.

  The town of Mather’s Creek sat between him and the foot of the mountains, and a steady pace would put him there in an hour. He knew the danger that awaited him there. Philip Tucker was one of the better-known outlaws in the area. His eager gunhand had earned him a vile enough reputation that he could live in plain sight without any opposition from the law. No one cared to cross him, even for the hefty price on his head.

  Logan pushed onward, determined to complete the two thousand dollars he needed. One last arrest would have him hot on the trail toward home. Nothing could take him back to Tom and Janie soon enough. And he missed Charley and Carter terribly. Soon he could leave this all behind him.

  Riding into town, Logan pulled the brim of his Stetson down a bit further. His years of experience had given him an eye for spotting anyone set against the law. They carried themselves differently, and Tucker was no exception. Knowing the saloon would be the place to find him, Logan stopped his horse outside the establishment, swinging his reins around the rail out front.

  Logan stepped inside, keeping a cautious eye on the card game being held in the far corner. As he had expected, the husky man with n
arrow eyes and a long, dark beard sat where he could see the door. He made confident eye contact with Logan, making him well-aware that he knew who he was. Logan returned the man’s glare with an air that made even him shift in his seat.

  Logan perched himself atop a stool at the bar, waiting for his opportunity. If only momentarily, his thoughts drifted to Janie, knowing how she would anguish over him being in such a place. He pushed the idea from his mind, knowing he had a job to complete. A tap on his shoulder quickly brought him back to the present.

 

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