Logan's Land

by Serita Stevens

  I realized now I had made a mistake coming down here in the first place, for I had already seen things I had no wish to see. I would have been better off spending a sleepless night than to be subjected to all this.

  Logan turned to me now and gave me one of his cocky smiles that irritated me so. “Why don’t you just turn around go back upstairs, Miss Edwards?”

  “But I... ”

  The saloon was so quiet now that even the lazy stirrings of the horses outside could be heard through the slotted door.

  The look in his eye wasn’t to be disobeyed and so I turned and began to push my way past the man standing above me.

  Bart was equally determined, however, that I was not to leave him just yet, and putting his hands against the railing, he stopped me in my tracks. Helpless, I looked down at Logan again.

  The clunk of a wooden leg on the step startled me and glancing up, I realized that Bart had moved down to my level. For what purpose, I wondered.

  I winced as he put his arm about my waist and I wanted to slap him, but he held my arm so that I could not.

  “Go on, pretty thing. You lead. I’ll follow. Got myself somethin’ nice for ya.”

  Logan’s voice seemed to vibrate throughout the whole room as suddenly there was silence. “It wasn’t only old William who gave me the information.” The piano players had hushed, much as they had before, and Charlie had stopped drying the glasses. Even the card players had paused in the betting as everyone turned in the direction of the stair.

  “Yeah, who?” Bart shifted his weight slowly and measuring the tension in the room, turned his gaze again toward Logan.

  “Three others.”

  Bart’s hand gripped my wrist so hard that my skin was turning white. “Bet it was Hank Porter, Keats Jumifrey, and Sol Marshall. Those lyin’ bastards,” he muttered. “I’ll get them.” He shouted at Logan now. “You gonna take their word over mine, James? Well, go on. I’m innocent as the driven snow. We’ll see who’s tellin’ the truth. Bet you a hundred those sources of yours won’t be talkin’ like you say after I get my hands on them.”

  Even as Bart spoke I became aware of his other hand moving slowly downward to his hip. But before he could draw, Logan, whose arms had remained folded until this moment moved quickly. In a lightning flash, Logan’s gun rang out, shattering the air around me as the bullet hit Bart between the eyes. His mouth opened as he fell over the banister and dropped to the sawdust floor. The blood slowly pooled on the floor by his head.

  As he lay there someone shouted, “You didn’t haft to do that.”

  Those exact words echoed in my mind as I watched the man die in front of me, then looked to the smoking pistol in Logan James’ hand. He had killed a man – right here in front of my own eyes. In cold blood!

  It was bad enough that the man was a liar and a cheat, but a murderer!

  Sick to my stomach, I ran up the stairs, nearly tripping on the hem of my skirt.

  Relieving my sickness in the washbasin, I rinsed my mouth with the tepid water that remained in the pitcher and then threw myself on the bed, still dressed. I cried not only for that horrid man, but for what I feared to be my brother’s fate as well. If Logan James was capable of killing in cold blood like that... if he hated my brother as much as he seemed to... I didn’t want to think about it, but I shuddered nonetheless as sobs continued to wrack my body.

  Dimly I heard the door behind me open and close. Or maybe it was one of the other rooms. In this place it hard to tell.

  “Honeybunch?”

  I sniffled and looked up to see Drucilla towering over me.

  “Honeybunch, you okay? That Bart’s nuthin’ for a lady like you to cry over.”

  I nodded but kept sobbing anyway. How could I explain my fears to her?

  Drucilla came and put her arms around me, clucking like a mother hen. “Ya know, honey, when Eddie comes around, and I know he will cuz he wouldn’t leave a pretty little thing like you out in this town alone, he’s gonna be right sad at seein’ you so teary-eyed. Why I bet right now he’s on his way into town. Probably got caught at some poker game or sumthin’. You know these men.”

  I shook my head, having difficulty speaking.

  Finally, I managed “Dru, you said yourself that if he didn’t... meet my stagecoach you... thought he must be in deep trouble.”

  She was taken aback. “Yeah, sure. I said that,” she paused, “but deep trouble could just mean he’s holed up somewhere and — ”

  “And what about the law wanting him? Dru, I need to know what Elliot told you. I need to know about this claim of his.”

  “Claim? He didn’t tell me about no claim.”

  My mouth dropped open. “He did. Earlier you said — ”

  She shook her head so vehemently that the ostrich feather came loose. “I didn’t say he had a claim.”

  “But Theora... ” I stopped as I saw the grim line of her mouth. She was keeping something from me. I knew what I had heard. “Have you been talking to Mr. James?”

  “What?”

  “Has he said something to you about my brother?”

  She shook her head but quickly moved away from me, and I was sure that Logan had somehow threatened her.

  “Please, Dru. Elliot’s my brother. My only relative. I have to know what’s happened to him. I have to know where he is.” I started toward her.

  She studied me a moment. Her voice was full of concern. “What will ya do if he don’t come for you, honeybunch?”

  “You do know something!”

  Dru shook her head. “You got plans?”

  I sighed and sank back down on the bed. “Not really. I just supposed that he would come ... that even if he’s not here today, then he’ll be here tomorrow, or maybe the next day.”

  “And if not?”

  I did not want to see the sad expression in her eyes. I was sure she knew something evil that she did not want to tell me. Yet the same questions she asked now were the ones which had prevented my sleeping earlier.

  “I guess I’ll find a job until I can save enough for passage back to Chicago. I certainly wouldn’t want to stay out here. Not with men like...” I shook my head.

  “Honeybunch, out here there are good and there are bad, and the law is sometimes both. Lots of times the men take the law into their own hands cuz it’s the only way to get any justice. What with the roving benches and the sheriff’s being paid off — ”

  “Are you saying that Clay Washburn’s in someone’s pocket?”

  “Naw, I’m not sayin’ that. But others in other towns are.”

  I frowned. From what I witnessed tonight it was obvious that what she had said earlier was true. Logan James and his brother, Morgan, did own the town, and probably the law as well. Otherwise, I could think of no other reason why the sheriff had not taken charge of situation tonight.

  “Why were you down there anyway? ‘Taint no place for a girl like you.”

  I explained about my sleeplessness and my need to have a drop of brandy to calm my nerves.

  “I know just what ya mean. Me Ma used t’tell me the same thing.”

  “If it’s not right for me to be down there, then why is it right for you?”

  She gave a casual shrug. “I’m used to it. I work it.”

  “Surely, there must be something else you can do?”

  She shook her head slowly and smiled.

  “Now, you rest well.” Drucilla headed for the door.

  “What time do you finish work?”

  “Whenever.” She shrugged. “Got me a young lad tonight. Expectin’ his mail order bride by stage tomorrow. Wants t’know what t’do.” She smiled at me. “Ya know what I mean.” Truly, I did not know what she meant since I had never had a man and did not plan to until it was sanctioned by the church. Not wanting to appear naive and stupid to her, I nodded.

  “So, you see, I don’t know when I’ll be back. You just rest, honeybunch.” She adjusted the ostrich feather in her hair and headed for the door.
>
  “Drucilla, about Logan James — ”

  “We’ll talk in the mornin’, honeybunch. Got work t’do t’night.” She smiled at me. “Just don’t let what you saw tonight upset you none. Happens all the time here. You’ll get used to it.”

  She closed the door and, after blowing out the lamp, I lay there in the darkness, listening once more to the sounds in the other rooms and the sounds in the saloon below.

  I doubted I would ever get used to this lawless way of living. Certainly, I would never ever get used to men like Logan James.

  Chapter 6

  I never did get to talk with Drucilla.

  The liquor I’d drunk put me to sleep immediately and indeed, it was nearly eleven by the time I awoke the following morning. Never before had I slept so late, but then never before had I witnessed such violence. My stomach turned as I recalled the events of the night before.

  True, I had not liked that fellow, Bart, but was that any reason for him to die? I gathered from the conversation that he had once worked for Logan James and was suspected of cheating him – like Logan had cheated that young boy? Even so, the civilized thing would have been a trial.

  I shook my head, tasting the cottony dryness in my mouth as I tried to clear my head. As soon as I could find Elliot, we were going to return to civilization. It didn’t have to be Chicago, but it did have to be someplace where people’s rights were respected.

  As I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and grasped the rail, a slight dizziness passed over me. I vowed never again would I resort to even a sip of brandy to combat insomnia.

  With the dizziness I also felt a sadness invade me, for I realized that if my fears proved correct Elliot would not be leaving this god-forsaken town with me. I would be lucky to learn of his whereabouts before my own life was endangered, if it was not already.

  I wondered what Logan James would say if he knew who I truly was. Perhaps, I thought, shivering as I glanced at the bullet in the door, he already knew.

  ~

  Hastily washing with the fresh water that had been brought in while I slept, I donned the gown I had worn last night. A small drop of blood had spattered the skirt. With disgust, I quickly washed it out, praying that the mark would not show, for this was, or had been, one of my better dresses.

  I hoped that there would be coffee available and that the price would not be too high.

  The silence as I walked down the wooden steps was nearly as deafening as the noise had been last night. The air at least was breathable now.

  On the landing, I paused a moment and my morbid curiosity forced me to look down to the ground. I half expected to see the body still there, but there was nothing. Fresh sawdust covered the spot, and there was no indication anywhere of foul play.

  The only one in the room was Charlie himself. In the light of day I could see his seedy gray hair combed carefully to cover a bald spot. His watery, pale blue eyes seemed too large for his shrunken face.

  “Mornin’.” He greeted me, drying some glasses.

  I nodded to him. “Do you know where I could find Drucilla?”

  “Miss Dru? She didn’t come upstairs last night?”

  I shook my head.

  He shrugged. “Try the restaurant.” He jerked his thumb. “Cross the street.”

  I nodded and started to pull my shawl around my shoulders to fend off the early morning chill until I realized it was almost high noon.

  A bit disoriented, I stepped out through the etched glass doors of the hotel and onto the plank walkway, half blinded by the brilliance of the sun.

  People called out greetings to each other, chatting across the dusty street, making me feel even more alone.

  A horse riding by stirred up dust and quickly I covered my mouth.

  It took a moment for my eyes to adjust before I realized that the restaurant Charlie had spoken of, probably the only one in this town, was across the street: Ma Peters Eatin’ Joint.

  The scene this morning was indeed far livelier than it had been the night before. Not only were there wagons in the street being loaded up with provisions and supplies for the outlying farms and ranches, but carriages and horsemen also filled the road.

  I looked again toward the restaurant and shrugged. The food there couldn’t be any worse than what we had had on the stagecoach run from Salt Lake. Gingerly, I touched the reticule hanging at my wrist. How much longer would my money hold out?

  I decided that after breakfast, and after I’d talked with Drucilla, I’d talk with Theora again. Perhaps she’d be able to shed some light on things which Drucilla had mentioned, things which I gathered my roommate now regretted saying. Along the way, I would also stop at the banker’s and see if I could find the listing for my brother’s claim.

  As I stepped down into the street, I heard a “Yee-Haw!”

  The rider and brown horse sped past me with such force that I was knocked off my feet.

  Stunned and breathless, I could only blink as I fought the tears and tried to stare after the inconsiderate rider. How could anyone be so thoughtless? Surely, he had seen me step down!

  Before I could say anything, several men ran to help me my feet. One of them was Sheriff Washburne.

  “You hurt, ma’am?” He assisted me to my feet.

  I shook my head. “Only my pride, I think.” I dusted off my gown the best I could, knowing for sure I’d have to clean it now. “Someone ought to speak to that horseman, though. Doesn’t he know it’s not polite to run people down?” I stared down the street in the direction of the rider who had disappeared. I saw only the glaring sun sparkling off the white mountaintops in the distance.

  “I’m sure he didn’t mean no harm, ma’am. Probably just one of those ranch hands still a little keyed up from last night.”

  “Even so,” I started to say, and then decided I’d best let it pass, as I renewed my vow to find Elliot and leave here as soon as we could.

  As I started to cross the street again, I realized I was trembling. Looking around, I had the strange sensation of someone watching me – not with the kindly air of these men who had helped me to my feet, but with air of someone who meant to harm me.

  Shivering, it occurred to me only then that with a horse going that fast, I might easily have been killed or injured. Telling myself that my imagination was getting the better of me, I nevertheless hurried to the other side.

  A stray kitten peeked out from behind a pole. My heart went out to her as she ran toward the alley, trying to stick her head into the garbage pail.

  Reaching the scrawny thing, I scooped her up. For a moment, she fought me but as I stroked her matted fur she relaxed.

  “I’m not having much, kitten, but you’re welcome to share my breakfast.”

  A wee peep came from the tiny throat as she licked my hand. Obviously, she understood what I meant. I knew I was probably compounding my own troubles, but you see I had this fondness for strays. Maybe because I, too, felt very much like a stray right now.

  Relieved, I entered Ma Peters.

  Not many were seated inside this time of day. I looked around the room, hoping that perhaps, as Charlie had said, Drucilla might be there, but she was not. Well, I was sure, since I was sharing her room, I would see her later on. Meanwhile my stomach growled and I walked forward.

  A hefty woman with large raw-looking hands stepped out from the curtain. “Help you?” She wiped her hands on a none-too-clean apron.

  “Uh.” I checked the dining area again. The Tremont it was not! “Is it too late to have some breakfast? Or even just some coffee?”

  “What’d ya want?”

  I could feel her eyeing me with hostility and I couldn’t help wondering again if she knew something I did not. I glanced down at my now dusty gown and felt the kitten squirming in my pocket. “Excuse my appearance. I was nearly run over in the street by some fool horsemen and — ”

  “What’d ya want?” she repeated. “Hain’t got all day.”

  Her manner put me off, but then I s
upposed when you’re the only restaurant in town, you can act however you want.

  “Coffee.”

  “That all?”

  “Can I see a menu?”

  “Don’t got one.” She pointed to a slate above a kitchen curtain.

  I shrugged. “Eggs and bacon would be fine.” I paused as kitten meowed softly. “Oh... and a glass of milk.”

  Ma Peters glared at me and turned back toward the kitchen. “Have a seat anywhere. Bring yer coffee and milk in a moment.”

  “Uh, how much will that be?”

  The woman turned toward me, eying my soiled gown once more. “One dollar fifty.”

  “Oh.” That was far more than I had expected to spend for three meals, let alone one meal. With the hotel and this, I would be destitute by the week’s end. Oh, Elliot where are you?

  “You have it?”

  “Of course, I do.” My trembling voice must have showed my nervousness.

  “Show me.” Her beady little eyes narrowed as she thought she was calling my bluff.

  Trying to act as casual as possible, I pulled my change purse up, just as I heard steps behind me.

  “That’s not necessary, Ma. I’ll vouch for the little lady.”

  I didn’t need to turn around, for feeling my back stiffen as I drew in my breath, I knew who was behind me.

  “You don’t have to pay for my breakfast. Mr. James.” I glared at him. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

  “Are you now?” His brow raised, and a smile quirked his face, pulling the scar taut.

  “And even if I weren’t. I don’t take charity from a murderer!”

  I could see the startled look in his eyes and for a fearful moment wondered if I had gone too far. I had no proof that anything had happened to my brother, or, if it had, that Logan James had had anything to do with it, but the evidence, circumstantial as it was, seemed to slap me in the face everywhere I turned. In fact it wouldn’t surprise me at all to learn that he had been the one responsible for the bullet going through the wall last night, and for the horse which moments ago had nearly run me over.

  What was he hiding? And how long would it take me to find out?