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Logan's Land

Page 7

by Serita Stevens


  I vowed then I would not leave Ruby City until I had brought her killer to justice, until I had found out what had happened to my brother.

  ~

  Numb, I climbed the wooden steps of the hotel toward the room I had shared for a very short time with Drucilla. As I let myself in for the second time that morning, I half expected to find it had been ransacked once more, but everything was the same as it had been less than an hour before. Less than an hour ago. It was such a short time and yet – it seemed an eternity.

  Of course, Drucilla had been dead far longer than that but I hadn’t known it. I had been hopeful then of learning more of my brother’s past in this town. But first Theora’s disappearance had upset my plans and now Drucilla was dead.

  I shivered and prayed that Theora had not met the same fate as my late roommate, merely because I had asked her a few questions.

  Despite my vow not to cry, tears shimmered in my eyes.

  As I lay there on the bed trying to think of what I was going to do, of how I was going to implicate Logan in my brother’s misfortune, there came a knock on the door.

  Startled, I sat up.

  “Who’s there?”

  “Open the door, Miss Edwards.”

  I sighed. It was none other than the devil himself.

  “What do you want?”

  “To talk with you.”

  I frowned. I supposed he was going to try and convince me somehow that he knew nothing of Drucilla’s death. Or perhaps to attempt somehow to blackmail me so I would say nothing of my suspicions.

  Even so, despite my fears, I flung the door open. Perhaps it was the commanding tone of his voice, or perhaps I just wanted to see what excuses he would come up with.

  “Perhaps you’d better put something else on,” he grinned.

  “Oh!” I blushed hotly as I looked down and realized I was wearing only my chemise. Quickly I ran behind the dressing screen and grabbed my dress which still hung over the top. How could I have been so foolish! So forgetful!

  He was seated on the bed, his legs propped up as if he owned the room, and perhaps, from the rumors I had heard of his wealth, he did. Nevertheless, it was my room, at least for now, and I resented his intrusion.

  “What do you want?”

  “To talk,” he repeated. His arms folded across his massive chest, and he eyed me steadily until I felt the color blossoming on my cheeks.

  “Do I make you nervous, Miss Edwards?”

  I wanted to laugh but my voice came out strained and high-pitched. “No, you do not make me nervous, Mr. James.”

  “Good.” He tilted back his hat, exposing the scar on his brow, and smiled up at me. “Then why are you pacing?”

  “Because you are on the bed and I do not happen to like that chair.”

  “I see.” He paused a moment. “There’s room if you want to sit here next to me.” He patted the side of the bed.

  This time I turned a rainbow of colors, and abruptly, walked to the window.

  I whirled on him now as the anger boiled in me. “How dare you suggest such – ” I couldn’t even say more. But after a moment, I gained control of myself again. “I am not that kind of woman.”

  “Oh. I know the kind of woman you are.” He laughed softly, irritating me like a needle under my skin.

  My eyes narrowed as I met his stare with my own.

  For a brief moment, he seemed to back down and I continued, “A woman is dead out there and all you can think of is making a pass at someone who cares not a whit for you or your company.”

  “That so?”

  The anger must have showed on my face.

  Swinging his long legs up and over the end of the bed, he sat up and walked over to the high-backed chair, indicating that I could sit on the bed if I wished.

  “Thank you, but I prefer to stand. Just what is it you wanted here, Mr. James? I have no desire to deal with your tomfoolery.”

  For that moment he hung his head like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. I wondered if this was how he got his way with all the women in town. Of course, what I’d seen already indicated that most of the women here were for hire, so he didn’t really have to woo them too hard.

  “You’re absolutely right for chewin’ me out. Guess I was just stunned by your beauty.”

  I stared at him and wondered at his gall, for I knew there was no way I could be considered even half as beautiful as a woman like Drucilla.

  “Come t’talk t’you about Miss Drucilla’s untimely demise.” He adjusted his hat again. Once more my attention was drawn to the scar on his brow.

  I looked at him and waited for him to say more.

  Crossing his legs, he leaned back in the chair, tilting it on its hind supports like a rearing horse.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “Tell you what happened? Why should I tell you? Why not the sheriff?”

  “I’m the law for the moment. Sheriff’s out of town investigatin’ somethin’ else.”

  I wanted to ask if it was another murder that might be associated with Elliot’s disappearance or, heaven forbid, Theora’s, but I dared not.

  I shrugged, not sure exactly what to say. “I don’t recall if she came back to the room last night. Certainly, if she did, I don’t remember.”

  “Clothes she wore would indicate not. Go on.”

  “I was looking for her earlier.”

  “Why?”

  I sucked in my breath and wondered if my voice trembled as much as I felt it did. “She had promised to tell me something.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What?”

  I was sure then that I had made a mistake, but it was too late now. Pausing to think for a moment, I continued. “She was going to tell me about a job she knew.”

  The seriousness vanished for a moment. “You’d be a dance hall girl?”

  “Of course not!” Then I realized he was teasing me. “It was another job.”

  “Oh?” He lifted a brow. “What?”

  “I don’t know!” I shouted at him. “She was dead before she could tell me.” I pushed away from my stand at the window and began to pace the room. “Please, I don’t know anything about her death.” I turned to him.

  The chair came down with a thud.

  I was scarcely aware that he had stood until he was in front of me, blocking my path. “Miss Edwards.” His hands were on my shoulders, forcing me to look into his eyes. “You were the last one I know to talk to her. Surely you must recall something she said.”

  I blanched.

  Hesitatingly, I told him what she had said about the young boy. He nodded. I wondered if that was a hint of a smile I saw on his face. Would that be his excuse? No, I did not think it would be.

  “Anything else?”

  I shook my head not daring to mention what little had been said about Elliot.

  “Well, then Miss Edwards,” he paused, his arms folded across his chest again, “I suggest you do not go very far for a few days. Might want to talk to you again.”

  I did not like the glint I saw in his eyes.

  Turning, he left the room abruptly.

  As the door closed behind him, I could only stare at the scarred wood. Only then did I realize that other than killing me himself, there was only one way he could keep me from trying to find out about Elliot’s disappearance: he could frame me for Drucilla’s murder.

  Chapter 9

  I was surprised they were not waiting the usual several days for the funeral. Surely, Drucilla must have had someone other than the townsfolk, who would want to attend. But I was told she had no one. Nevertheless, it seemed strange to me that the service was being hurried along so.

  Logan explained that in the hot weather, such as we had had this past few days, a body would easily decay and therefore needed to be buried as soon as decently possible. Besides, the preacher was on his route now and if they wanted a Christian burial for Drucilla, they had to take advantage of the minister’s arrival. Otherwise, it would be three months or
more before the traveling clergyman could bless her grave. As it was, there were three other graves, newly dug, waiting for the preacher’s words.

  “After all,” Morgan explained, “how’d you like to be hanging ‘round the cemetery for three months afore you’d go to heaven ‘cuz the preacher ain’t got ‘round to you.” He grinned at me. And for the first time in days, I laughed briefly, but I couldn’t help wondering if Morgan wasn’t covering up for his older brother, and if burying the body as quickly as they were wasn’t burying the evidence of her killer along with it.

  I couldn’t say I was too fond of the preacher. With his beady eyes and large hands, he reminded me of a wrestler I’d once seen in Chicago. I wondered if he, too, was on Logan James’ payroll.

  Logan James! That man invaded everything — even my thoughts!

  ~

  And it seemed Theora, too, had disappeared. I had been in the telegraph office twice since the morning of the death but found no one who could tell me anything more about her other than that she’d gone off.

  Disappointed, I was about to leave again but something made me turn to ask, “Do you need any help here? I mean, with Theora gone and all, surely there must be extra work t’do.”

  He bit off a chunk of the tobacco and chewed thoughtfully for a moment as he stared at me. “Ken ya decode the machine?”

  “No,” I admitted, “but I’m willing to learn. I — ”

  But he was already shaking his head. Chewing the tobacco like cud, he spat it out, staining the far wall again.

  “Sorry. Can’t take time t’teach. Either ya know it or ya don’t. “

  Frustrated, I touched my pocket. “Do you know anyone in town who might use some help? Perhaps some children who need teaching?”

  He shrugged. “Know only one. Mr. Logan James.” He grinned, exposing tobacco stained teeth and began chewing again.

  “No thank you,” I said and, leaving the building, put my parasol up to ward off the sun. Already my delicate skin was showing signs of burning in this summer sun. Having seen some of the women coming into town for their supplies, the women who lived their lives on the wide open spaces that Elliot had admired so much, I knew if I stayed in the wilderness, it would not be long before I’d be weathered brown like them. But I vowed to prevent that for as long as possible, just as I vowed to stay away from Logan James for as long as possible.

  ~

  It seemed the first vow was going to be easier to keep than the last. The man was everywhere, watching me with that intense stare of his. I was sure he was trying to unnerve me, just as I was sure he had his spies everywhere telling him where I was, what I was doing, and who I was talking to, for it seemed each time I asked someone for a job they would tell me they knew of nothing but the one at the James ranch.

  The conspiracy was getting to me. How much longer, I wondered, could I stand up to him? How much longer would my money hold out? It was a miracle I had lasted this far.

  Upset and not knowing what to do, I started back towards my room, thankful that Charlie had not had much business and I had not been forced to share. But I would have to do something about my situation soon. As it seemed I was staying in this town for at least a short while, I needed to find not only work but a new place to stay. Drucilla certainly had been right. This hotel, such as it was, was no place for anyone but the ladies of her profession.

  Every time I walked in there, I could feel the men staring at me, assessing me the way the dead man had. Not even frequent bathing could wash away that feeling.

  Was the fact that I continued to stay at the hotel the reason Mr. James felt he could try taking such liberties with me? Certainly he, of all people, knew that I had come here straight from the stagecoach and had expected to be met.

  Worried about just what Logan James did know of me and my situation, I started up the steps. “Miss Edwards!”

  The tone in his voice made me stop. Slowly I turned. I hadn’t meant to confront him here and now, but it was just as well. He wouldn’t dare hurt me with others present, or would he?

  From my superior position on the steps, I was able to look down at him. “What can I do for you, Mr. James?

  He moved slowly towards me as I imagined he might if he were about to shoot someone. The heaviness of his walk echoed as the floor vibrated. Frightened, I clung to the banister and noticed that my knuckles had turned white.

  Taking a deep breath, I told myself I would not be afraid of someone like him. I released the rail and stood tall.

  “Miss Edwards, I think we need to have a chat.”

  Once again, my hand grabbed the banister as he came closer, standing now just beneath me. Were I to kick out, I might even touch his hat.

  “About what?” I prayed my nervousness did not show, but I feared from the look in his eyes that it did.

  “Said I wanted to ask you more questions about Drucilla’s death.”

  “And I said I had told you all that I knew. I did not know Drucilla before coming to town the evening prior. I’m afraid I can’t help you much.”

  Thinking that was an end to the conversation, and glad to be finished so quickly, I turned and started up the steps.

  My nerves at being near this man had become so raw that I did not recall the accusations I wished to hurl at him. I only wanted to get away as quickly as I could.

  I gasped with surprise as the hand grabbed my ankle.

  “Will you please let me go?”

  He grinned. “Got more to say to you, Miss Edwards.”

  “Well, I have nothing more to say to you.”

  Still his hand remained on my ankle, his thumb caressing the tender part behind the bone as I felt a distinct shiver go up me, flooding my body with an unexpected warmth. I had to take a deep breath before I could speak again and then I, too, heard the trembling in my voice. “Please, let me go.”

  “I will when you promise to move out to the ranch with me.”

  “Why?” My voice was a hoarse whisper. “Why do you want me? I am sure there are others... more qualified than I to teach your daughter.”

  “No, ma’am, not in Ruby City.” He grinned and with his free hand pushed his hat back. His hand continued to torment me stroking my ankle as I squirmed and tried to free myself, but he was just as strong as he looked... perhaps stronger.

  “You know, Miss Elisa, you’re not gonna find a job here in town t’pay anything near what I’d pay you. And you’re good with kids – said so yourself.”

  “I don’t care. I want to stay in town.”

  “And you’d have to tolerate ol’ Charlie and his shares. Never know who you might find sharing your bed one night.”

  I thrust my chin higher as I tried to ignore the insidious feeling invading me. Why was he trying to unnerve me like this? Did he think Elliot had told me anything more? Was he trying to find out what I knew?

  “Well?”

  “Well, I shall find a room at one of the boardinghouses. I am sure that one of the families close to town will be happy for the money.”

  “And where you gonna get the money, Miss Elisa?

  His infuriating grin made me want to slap him, but then I’d have to stoop down to his level and I wasn’t about to do that.

  “I’m looking for work,” My teeth clenched.

  “But no one here abouts’ll hire you.”

  “On your say?” I whirled about, managing finally to wrench my ankle free from his clutches.

  “On my say. I usually get what I want.”

  “Well, you’re not getting it this time!”

  Before he could say more, I ran up the stairs, slamming the door to my room.

  After locking it, I lay on the bed breathless, still feeling that strange sensation where he had touched my ankle. If I hadn’t known better, I would have said I’d been burned, but there was no mark on my skin. It was magic, almost like that newfangled electric light they had in the Palmer House back in Chicago. Hot one moment and cool the next.

  I waited, praying that he
wouldn’t come after me, and yet in a strange way disappointed when he did not come.

  Finally, when I’d rested a bit and it seemed safe to leave my room, I again ventured down the stairs. I probably would not have done so, had I not been so hungry. But I’d not eaten any breakfast today since I was trying to save money, and now it was catching up to me.

  I was thankful that Logan was not hanging around in the saloon waiting for me to pass through.

  Then I realized how ludicrous it was for me even to think that. Someone of Logan James’ stature did not just wait for someone like me to come down. As he said, he usually got what he wanted. And I shivered, wondering what he really wanted from me.

  ~

  The restaurant was as empty as it had been that first morning. I saw a bell on the counter and this time I rang it.

  “Yeah, Yeah, I’m comin’,” Ma Peters shouted.

  She made a face when she saw me. “What’d ya want? Coffee?”

  “Please. If you have some.”

  “I got some. Be ten minutes or so ‘til it’s brewed.”

  I nodded.

  “Anything else?” She wiped her raw red hands on the coarse apron.

  “Soup, if you have some.”

  “No soup. Too hot. Got me some stew.”

  “And good stew it is, too. Hello, Ma.”

  “Morgan, me boy.” A beaming Ma Peters crossed the threshold from the kitchen and came over to hug Morgan James as I quickly moved aside. “Haven’t seen you in donkey’s years!”

  He grinned. “I’ve been around, Ma.” Pecking her cheek, he pulled back. “I’ll take me some of that stew and give some to Miss Elisa, here.”

  She glanced at me as if to ask what Morgan saw in me, but I did not respond.

  “It’s your money.” She shrugged. “You want some fresh made bread, too?”

  Morgan nodded and as she disappeared back into the kitchen, he indicated that we should take a table towards the back.

 

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