by Cherie Shaw
He asked then, “Aside from enjoying my obvious discomfort, did you ladies enjoy your breakfast?” Logan had liked hearing Olivia’s laughter, a rare sound indeed.
Olivia was dressed in a pale blue cotton day gown, with tiny pearl buttons running down the front of the bodice, and white lace enhanced the neckline. Logan couldn’t stop enjoying the sight, but he realized that if he mentioned how lovely she looked at that moment, she would probably dart up the stairs to her room, so he held his thoughts.
“Well?” She was tapping her dainty foot, and he realized that she was speaking to him.
“I’m sorry, what was it you were saying?” He blurted.
“I only said that the breakfast was delicious, and asked if you were going back in the restaurant for hot coffee. My uncle and brother are in there now.”
“Oh, yes, of course. That’s exactly where I was headed. Well…….I will see you ladies later.” Logan gave Olivia a grin, and a lingering look, then he turned to the restaurant.
Olivia only nodded, gave Logan a brilliant smile, then after another burst of laughter, she quickly walked toward the stairway.
“Adios, Señor.” Maria waved at Logan, then followed Olivia up the stairs, as she loudly declared, for everyone within hearing distance to hear, “When Ricardo and I leave for our visit to relatives in Mexico, I shall miss all further developments in this blooming romance, that neither one of you will admit to.”
“Maria, really, I haven’t the slightest idea what you are talking about.” Olivia huffed, as she hurried up the stairway, though she did let out a slight giggle, as she added, “He did look kind of…um…attractive though, didn’t he?”
Maria just shook her head, and said, “You gringos, you play games with this romance thing. We Latinos, we are straightforward with our feelings, and say what we feel, and you do not even address each other with first names either. For shame.” She scolded.
Once alone in her room, Olivia took in a deep breath, and wondered why her heart was pounding so hard. “Well,” she thought to herself, “Since Logan Wakefield has sufficiently recovered; he does present a rather devilishly handsome appearance, and those eyes of his.” She sighed, then caught herself, thinking. “Come now, Olivia, you certainly are not besotted with that rogue! A cowboy at that! Absolutely not! Never!”
She walked across the heavily carpeted floor of the room, and jerked open her valise, pulling out her umbrella. She and Maria were going shopping.
Ricardo was now clad in typical conservative western wear, jeans, a blue plaid shirt, scuffed cowhide boots, and his flat brimmed beat-up black cowboy hat hung on a nearby hook, as he lingered at the table in the restaurant, over coffee and a long, possibly Cuban, cigar. His dark flashing eyes watched the movement of the smoke rings he blew towards the ceiling, though in reality, he was also watching the patrons as they filed into the restaurant for their morning meal. Always alert, he had learned from an early age to always be aware of his surroundings, though casual in appearance, no one could guess the depth of his attentiveness.
Dolly was busy now, pouring coffee at most tables, then refilling cups, serving food as it was prepared in the kitchen. She enjoyed her customers, and even after years of waiting tables, she still felt the restaurant to be near to a second home, and when she noticed the white-haired Englishman enter the dining room with his nephew, she welcomed them, and hurried to take their breakfast order, as she set two fresh cups on the table and poured their coffee, then refilled Ricardo’s cup, before returning to the kitchen.
Garth explained that his wife, Bridgett had ordered him to bring her breakfast to her on a tray when he returned, so that was just what he would do. “Always keep the ladies happy.” He grinned.
A while later Lord Beckford and Garth were heartily putting away their own portions of breakfast, when Logan joined them at the table, after first hanging up the dripping wet Stetson, then he said to Ricardo, “Guess we’ll wait until the mercantile opens to pick up those slickers, amigo.”
Logan noticed Ricardo’s attire, and said, “Now you look like a real Texan, amigo.”
“At least I am not wearing the rainwater, as you are.” Ricardo retorted, “It seems to me that it would be a little late for you to buy a slicker, it would serve no purpose now, as you are wearing half a year’s rainfall, and have tracked the other half all over the floor.”
Dolly spoke up, as she poured Logan’s cup full of the steaming brew, “Oh we don’t mind a little water on the floor. Won’t be the first time, just look around,” she gestured toward the other guests, “they ain’t exactly many other dry folks in here either.” She walked over to a nearby table, and began taking more breakfast orders.
Ricardo spoke up, “Logan, Garth and I have been informing Señor Beckford as to where we deposited the cumbersome baggage last night.”
“And just where was that?” Logan asked, as he sipped his coffee.
Dolly walked by again, gave Logan a flirtatious smile then a wink, and left the room.
Ricardo laughed, “Oh, that señora, she likes you young gringo cowboys.”
Garth hid a grin, as he changed the subject, “Back to Henry Adams. As far as Ricardo and I are concerned, we treated the chap bloody well, just like a perfect English gentlemen would, that is, once Ricardo arrived outside the clinic, just as I was hauling old Henry from the back of my horse. Our Latino friend here only assisted me.”
Beckford, raised an eyebrow, as he listened to the two describe the previous evening’s events. Ricardo took over the conversation, “That Doctor O’Brien, he would not even allow either one of us to go into the clinic with the ‘patient’. He himself assisted Henry into the clinic, that is, after he insulted both Garth and me.”
Logan asked, “Is that possible?”
“H’mph!” Garth grunted, then took over the telling, “Yes, he did bloody well thank us for delivering the patient, then he had the nerve to say we were……….how did he put it?” Garth then looked to Ricardo for help.
Ricardo put on his most hurt, bland expression, “O’Brien, he said we were…..harassing, that was the word…….harassing his patient. His exact words, Señor.”
Logan chuckled, “You two? No!”
Garth added, “We even offered to drop by in the morning to deliver Henry back to his boarding house, but Doc O’Brien wouldn’t hear of it. Said he’d only release the patient to ‘friendlier’ people. Can you beat that? Now who is friendlier than yours truly and my Latino friend here?”
Beckford raised a hand, “I believe we get your point, nephew, and thanks for the input. Though maybe the good doctor would rather the county Sheriff picked up old Henry.”
“Now that’s a thought.” Logan said, “Though Henry’s probably left the sanctuary of the clinic by now anyway, probably the doctor got tired of him, and made him leave.” Logan leaned back in his chair, thinking that Garth and Ricardo were holding back a few facts about the delivery of the patient to the clinic, though they probably wouldn’t want to hear more details anyway.
Beckford was smiling to himself, and thinking, “How did I manage to raise such a nephew as Garth?” He made no further comment.
The day’s plans were discussed, as the rain continued to fall heavily, spattering against the side window of the room, and splashing in from the outside entrance as folks continued to burst into the room, in a hurry to escape the heavy downpour. Some came through the hotel door from the lobby, but most burst in off the boardwalk through the other entrance of the restaurant.
Instead of letting up, the showers commenced to get heavier, and now thunder rolled heavily across the turbulent skies, with jagged streaks of lightening bolts lighting up the whole area, striking repeatedly somewhere off in the hills.
This would not be a good day to be on the trail, with the flooded arroyos and washes, and Logan finally voiced what they all had been thinking. “You know, sir,” he began, “these plans we have are good, but they will still be good when the weather clears up. It wouldn’t
be right to risk a ride up the trail with all the flooding going on. Wouldn’t be safe, and we’d be better off to postpone any travel in this weather. We wouldn’t gain anything by getting ourselves stranded out there along the trail somewhere, or floating around in one of those flooded washes.”
“You know this country better than I do, Logan.” Beckford said. “I was wondering the same thing. I have never been known to be a careless man.”
Garth nodded in hesitating agreement, as Ricardo added, “I’ve seen cattle floating down arroyos a time or two, Señor, and much as I hate to see another day go by, that those hombres have control of your property, I believe it would be foolhardy to attempt travel in such weather.” He took a puff from his cigar stub, then snuffed it out on a plate, and continued, “The mountains will be higher ground, but between here and there will be washes running deep and the lightening is not safe.”
“We shall wait then.” Lord Beckford decided. “Let those scoundrels worry a bit anyway. I’m sure they know by now that something is in the wind.”
Logan joined in, “The boys up at the line shack have probably figured out that the turn in the weather would prevent our chance of taking back the ranch today.”
Beckford said, “I have always preferred the old saying ‘Tomorrow’s another day’. And that just about sums it up; if the weather clears up tomorrow, we ride that horse then, or whenever it does.”
Ricardo chuckled, “Spoken like a true westerner, amigo. We shall make a westerner out of you yet, Señor.”
Beckford chuckled, then mused, “Well, I suppose the stage will be late today too because of the weather. It wouldn’t be feasible to travel in this weather for any reason.”
Just then the outside door opened to let in more rainwater, and with a burst, Bart McCain, the older cowhand, friend of Cougar Olson, stepped hurriedly inside the room, wearing a wet enough slicker, though dripping more water onto the floor from his hat brim.
CHAPTER 13
After hanging up the wet slicker and hat, Bart McCain scanned the room, and seeing Logan and Ricardo, along with Beckford, and noting the huge one with the bushy auburn beard, he approached their table.
After being introduced to Garth, McCain shook hands all around, then pulled up a chair from an empty table, and proceeded to speak in hushed tones. “Olson and that ranger fella rode on into the ranch, in the middle of the night last night. I just happened to be on hand, bein’ as I was lined up for ridin’ fence today, but it seemed those two were up to something, so me, I just lent an ear to what they had to tell. Guess you might say, I was plumb interested, so they clued me in on most everything.
“Now, Beckford, I feel most regretful if I, in any way, had a part in wrong doin’. I surely had no idea that Perkins wasn’t the rightful owner of that spread. An’ here I been drivin’ steers to the rails now an’ again, and takin’ the bank drafts to him for the sales of them cattle. Proud I was that I was bein’ trusted like that, an’ here he’s the crooked one. Now that money should have been yours, an’ he’s livin’ high off it.
“If you want I should take it ‘outta’ his hide, sir, just you say the word. Why me an’ Olson would be right proud to help you in any way we can.”
Beckford waved his hand, and shook his white head, as he said, “I appreciate your honesty McCain, but there is no way I could fault you or any of the other honest hands for only doing your jobs as you saw fit. I am glad to know that you boys will stand by us as we recover my property. That’s all anyone could ask.
“And as for the sales of the cattle, I’m not worried about a few steers. You boys had no idea what was going on, and were not at fault.” Beckford then asked, “Now, how in the world did you manage to get to town from the ranch in this weather?”
“Well sir,” McCain answered, “It wasn’t easy. But I knew that it had to be done, and us cowhands sometimes don’t think ahead, we just plow in an’ get it done. Mostly I kept to high ground, avoiding the trail where it was washed out, then when we had to, me an’ that horse we just up an’ started swimmin’ the rest of the way. That mustang’s in a dry stall right now in the livery stable, filling his belly up with oats. He sure earned ‘em.
“Olson an’ Welby, they’re stayin’ at the bunkhouse, an’ swore to Holderman that if he sent them back out in this weather, they’d up an’ quit, so bein’ as that’d make ‘em shorthanded, Holderman backed down, an’ told ‘em to get some sleep. Now Perkins and Holderman were holed up in the big house, when I took off an’ slipped out of there in the rain. Don’t think they saw me ride off.”
Logan asked, “How about some of the other hands, McCain? How do they feel?”
“No worry there. Most of ‘em anyhow.” McCain leaned back in his chair and accepted the coffee that Dolly served him, when she moved away, he added, “Most of the hands are out on the range, though probably holed up in line shacks here and there right now. Four others were in the bunkhouse, an’ they swore they’d surely welcome a change around there, so if Perkins thinks they’ll back ‘im, well then he’s another think comin’.
“Those boys will stand off, ‘til you take over your property.” He chuckled then, “We even roused Hank, the cook, from his bed, then after he was done a’cussin’ up a storm, from bein’ woke up in the middle of the night, he realized what was goin’ on, then he just up an’ laughed his head off, then fired up the cookstove in the kitchen, an’ made up a big pot of coffee for us all.
“He said he sure liked the original owner of the spread, his name was a Beckford too, Sam Beckford, your kin Hank reckoned, an’ said he couldn’t wait to meet you an’ tell you all about the old days of fightin’ injuns an’ rustlers right alongside ol’ Beckford. So he’ll stand. Hanks’s solid all the way.
“Chester Burns, now he’s that assistant ramrod, he just come a’stompin’ into the kitchen wantin’ to know what was goin’ on, an’ Hank, he just looks at ‘im, an’ says, ‘Drinkin’ coffee. You want a cup?’ Burns, he just stomps back out the door, an’ headed back to that room of his behind the stable. Not sure where he’d stand, so we said nothin’. He’s one ornery cuss, whether or not he knows what’s goin’ on or not remains to be seen. Well, after coffee, I just saddled up that mustang, an’ slipped out of there.”
McCain stopped talking long enough to take a deep breath, then drink some of the hot coffee Dolly had put before him, then he remembered, “Oh yes, that ranger fella, Welby, he said that if I made it here all in one piece, to tell you all not to go out in this weather, an’ to just hole up here. Wait it out. They’ll stay at the ranch, no matter what. Me, I’m gonna get me a room here an’ sleep for two days straight, or until you need me.”
Just then Dolly brought in a heaping plate of hot food, and set it before McCain, saying, “Eat up cowhand. It’ll be good for your old bones.”
McCain grinned at her, “Dolly sweetheart, you been tellin’ me that for twenty years now, an’ my ol’ bones still ache.”
“Well, it’s no wonder they ache, the way you wander around the country in all kinds of weather.” She retorted, as she walked away.
Ricardo stood, sliding back his chair.” Well, amigos.” He said, “Maria and Olivia wanted to go to the mercantile, even in weather such as this. I will see if I can talk them out of it. If not, I shall escort them. Your niece, sir,” he said to Beckford, “she wishes to shop, but my Maria, she only goes to the mercantile to antagonize the señora Lulu.” Laughing, he donned his hat, and walked over to the door leading into the hotel lobby.
Garth raised an eyebrow, and asked, “What was that all about? And my sister apparently has a new hobby. Shopping? That isn’t the Olivia I used to know.”
“There is much, nephew, which you have missed out on in these last years, and speaking of missing out on something, weren’t you supposed to take your wife a tray of food?” Beckford asked.
Remembering, Garth immediately ordered a tray to be prepared, thinking of the tongue-lashing he would get for taking so long.
Lo
gan was thinking of Olivia, and he began making his own plans for the day, his green eyes becoming dreamy. First of all, as soon as he was sure that Ricardo had escorted the two ladies to the mercantile, he was going to slip outside, unnoticed, and, rain or shine, he was going to cut the fullest, brightest red rose off the front rose bush, he’d seen blooming in the yard, just inside the front fence. Then he was going to go upstairs, and tie the red rose with a small strip of rawhide, to the door handle of Olivia’s room.
He wondered if, when she returned to her room, she’d know who had put the rose there, and what would her uncle think? Logan was, at times, too bullheaded to stop and care. A while later, he had his chance, and took care of the issue at hand, and proud of his accomplishment, he walked quickly down the hall, but as he stepped away from her door, he didn’t see Lord Beckford slipping back into his room smiling, after watching the whole process. This vacation was beginning to become interesting.
