Fishing the plate out from the stream, I splashed some water on my face and woke myself up.
It was only then that I became aware of the unnatural silence around me. I would have expected the night woods to be filled with sounds, but I could hear nothing but the water rushing by and the pounding of my heart. Did the animals sense the danger I did?
Telling myself I was being silly, I stood and started to walk back to the camp, ready to gather my things.
It was then I heard the sound of the twig snapping behind me. I told myself it was just a squirrel or something. But there were no squirrels this time of night. Certainly, the bear wouldn’t be out prowling now. Didn’t bears also sleep at night?
I took another step forward and heard yet another twig cracking. It was not me. I knew that for the sound had not been in sync with my steps. Was I being followed? Did Logan suspect who I was and decide that this was the best way to kill me?
I swallowed hard, determined to get back to camp as quickly as possible. Surely, he would not shoot me with so many others as witnesses.
The sounds came again and this time I looked over my shoulder as the panic thudded in my throat. I saw nothing that looked like a bear or a man.
Perhaps, I told myself, it was only my own fearful imagination. But as I hurried back towards the camp, I heard a click like the hammer of a gun being pulled back. I stopped a moment and prayed it was only the thudding of my heart.
I tried to ignore my fear and continued back towards the camp but found myself headed in the direction of the sound instead. I still could see nothing. Yet the person could obviously see me if he’d already cocked his gun. I knew I was being very foolish and walking directly into a trap, but I had to find out who was there.
Breaking through the woods at the other end of the camp, I found myself breathing hard. No one was there, I told myself. I was about to believe that it had indeed been my imagination when Logan stepped out from behind the wagon. He held no gun, so I knew it hadn’t been him out there.
“What do you want, cowboy?” The sharpness in his voice startled me.
Could it possibly be that he didn’t recognize me? That he didn’t recall this old coat of his which I wore?
“Uh... just doin’ personal stuff.”
“Ah, yes. Personal stuff. Don’t you know you’re supposed to report to the watch captain if you leave the campsite at night? I could have shot you for a rustler.”
“Yes, sir.” I flushed, hoping that was what I’d heard.
“I’ll remember, sir.”
I started back towards the fire area where my other gear was, and where my horse had been tied up, when suddenly the sound of gunfire crackled through the air. “What the — ”
I turned rapidly at the sound to see that Logan had been hit. A reddish stain was spreading along the lower part of his shirt.
I could only stare as he stumbled and fell to the ground.
Only then did it dawn on me, I’d been standing in that same place just moments before. That meant Logan had taken the bullet meant for me.
I screamed and rushed back to his side, waking up several of the other men in the process.
“What the hell!” He cursed, putting his hand to the now spreading sticky pool.
“Just lie there,” I told him. “I’ll get someone to help you.” I didn’t bother to disguise my voice this time. I saw his eyes widen but I wasn’t going to stop to explain now as I hurried over to where Petey and Mr. Sparks lay still asleep.
Within moments the camp was alive with men milling just like stampeding cattle, as their voices rose in question.
I had my questions, too. Had that shot been for me? If he didn’t recognize me until now, then he couldn’t have shot at me. Or perhaps it was just pretense.
Whatever the reason, I knew that even if he planned to kill me, it seemed that I was not of the same ilk. I could not let someone die. No matter how cruel or rotten they were. Certainly, I couldn’t let him die until I’d proven that he was Elliot’s murderer and then I would hand him over to justice.
I returned to Logan’s side and pushed through the crowd of men.
“No, don’t lift him.” I said, as I tried to recall all that I’d learned of first aid. “You might start the bleeding all over again.”
Several of them turned to me, startled now to hear a woman’s voice.
Logan gasped out his anger as with his hand he wildly pushed the Stetson from my head. My messy braid tumbled down my back. “Just what the hell are you doing here? Elisa? Where’s Sara? You bring her along for the ride?”
I flushed and shook my head. “Sara’s back at the house with Henry. I... ” My voice choked as I stared at him and tried to think of some rational excuse for being here. Again, I cursed the horse. “I... wanted to see what a roundup was like. I mean if I’m going to live on the ranch with you... ”
He shook his head and swore softly under his breath.
“Do you realize you might have gotten hurt?”
“But I didn’t.” I looked down at his prone body and realized the shape he was in. “You did.”
I looked up at Petey who had torn the shirt off and was examining the wound. “Looks like an artery, for sure.”
“I want to know who the hell fired that shot. I want an investigation made of all the guns in the camp.” Logan snarled and then closed his eyes as if the effort of speaking was more than he could handle.
I bent down and cradled his head in my arms. With tears in my eyes, I looked up at the man standing over me. “Can the bullet be taken out?”
“Don’t know, Miz James.” He tipped his hat to me. “Do what we can.”
“Can we get him back to the ranch?” I asked, not thinking of my own quest now but only of the life ebbing out of Logan.
“Do what we can.” The words echoed again.
I closed my eyes a moment as I tried to gain courage.
“Someone has to go for the doctor.”
“Can’t do that, Miz James. Good three-hour ride t’town. Maybe more. Who knows if Doc Martin even’ll be there.”
“I don’t care.” I insisted. “Someone has to go.”
The men looked at each other and then looked at me. I knew they were thinking that Logan would probably die here. Like this. But I wasn’t about to let that happen. If he had to die, I told myself, it would be at the hands of the law once the evidence proved him as my brother’s murderer.
“So, none of you will ride?”
No one moved.
I waited another moment and felt my heart jump into my throat. “All right then I will.”
Someone whistled under their breath. “Ya gotta be crazy, Miz James. Won’t do no good.”
I shook my head. “It will.” The bleeding around the wound was beginning to slow. Gently, I eased Logan’s head off my lap as I made a pillow for him with the coat handed to me and covered him with a blanket. I knew enough to prevent shock.
I stood now. “I’m not going to let him die without trying to do something.” I looked down at my costume and noticed bloodstains already on it. Logan’s blood. Did I want Logan’s blood on my hands? Even if he’d had my brother’s and now wanted mine?
“Clear out the chuck wagon to make space for him and then I want him carried back to the ranch as gently as possible. Be careful that the bleeding doesn’t start up again.”
I turned now to my brother-in-law, surprised to see him just standing there. “You can take charge of the investigation Logan asked for.”
His hooded eyes studied me a moment and I wondered if he was going to obey me. After all, I was stepping into what normally would now be his shoes.
After a long moment, he spoke. “Sure. I’ll check the guns. Then I’ll see that the rest of us finish our roundup. Can’t have the cattle sufferin’.”
“No.” I took a deep breath to steady myself as I mounted up again. “Can’t have the cattle suffering.”
The men began to lift Logan into the wagon and I heard him groan. He
was going to live. I told myself. He was going to live because I would not see the hangman be cheated.
Chapter 26
Dawn was just streaking the sky with its miracle of color as I rode southeast toward the town. Blowing on my hands to keep them from numbing, I urged the horse on as quickly as I could and heard my heart pounding along with the hooves as they sprayed dirt and dust from the road. Breathing quickly, I leaned into the horse’s mane. We were galloping so fast that I wanted to close my eyes and not look at where I was going but from my previous experience, I knew the horse had to be led.
The dawn was all I saw of the sun as the halo of fog encompassed it. The wind picked up and chilled me with its force. And even with the heavy gloves I’d taken from Logan’s pocket, I could feel my hands freezing bit by bit. My cheeks burned with the cold, but I forced myself to go on. Soon I’d be in town. Soon I’d be with the doctor, taking him back to Logan’s ranch.
The first gentle flakes of snow caught me unaware. I didn’t think it would snow so early in the year, yet that was exactly what it was doing. Shivering within the great sheepskin coat I urged the horse on faster. With luck, I’d make it to town and back before this became a full-fledged storm.
I recalled then what Elliot had told me... of how these storms came upon you suddenly, lasted for a few days burying some of the cattle, and then melting away with the same speed. He’d told me that one had come in over the mountains in the dead of summer. And while we were out of summer now, we certainly were not into winter.
Brushing the flakes out of my eyes, I blinked and wished that I had remembered to take back the hat after it had fallen off my head. But I’d been in too much of a hurry.
Every time the horse slowed, I would urge it on with a firm kick. I knew that she was getting as tired as I was, but that couldn’t be helped. I didn’t think that Petey could get the bullet out by himself and I knew that if the foreign object wasn’t removed from Logan, he could easily bleed to death if he hadn’t already.
Tears stung my eyes and seemed to freeze to my lashes as I realized that I did not want to see Logan die. For whatever reasons I gave myself, I did not want to see him die.
My cheeks were raw with the wind as I lowered my head into the relative warmth of the horse’s mane and again pushed the roan on.
The roofs of the town were covered with the white blanket by the time I reached it. Had I not been in such a rush I would have admired the pristine beauty. As it was, I hated making tracks in the fresh white snow, but there was no choice.
Wrapping the reins around the post, I ran up the stairs. Breathless, I pounded on the door. “Doc Martin! Doc Martin! Come quick!”
There was no answer. Helplessly I looked around for someone, but the streets were empty. Of course, they would be. It was insane to be out in a storm like this. “Doc Martin!” I shook the door again, pleading. My fingers touched the freezing metal of the knob. The tears had frozen in my eyes and I could barely see.
Certainly, I could no longer feel my hands or my cheeks. I realized it was futile to stay up here and continue to freeze. And so, sniffling with the cold, I hurried down the steps, being careful not to trip on the icy surface ad ran into Ma Peters’ Restaurant.
“Logan!” Clay Washburne stood abruptly, nearly spilling the soup he was eating.
Then he realized it was me and sat down again, the shock still on his face. “What the hell you doing in this storm, Elisa? And in those clothes?”
I shook my head. There was no time to explain. Finally, I caught my breath. “Where’s Doc Martin?”
“Why?” Ma came out now, wiping her hands on her apron.
I turned to her. “It’s Logan! He’s been shot.”
She continued wiping her hands, eying me as Clay had. “Think he went to Ralston’s. Deliverin’ the missus.”
“Where’s that?”
She jerked her thumb southeast. “That’a way. But ye’d never make it in this storm.”
“I have to. If that bullet doesn’t come out, he’ll die.”
“If you left him over four hours ago, he might already be dead.”
I didn’t like the tone in Clay’s voice. “How did you know when I left?” I turned to the sheriff again.
“You’re dressed in Logan’s clothes. I assume you went on the roundup with him. Mighty stupid I’d say for him to let a woman like you go with.”
“He didn’t let me. I... met up with him.”
The sheriff bit off a piece of hard bread and continued eating his soup. “Looking for the mine, were you?”
I flushed and felt the blood painfully heating my veins and causing me to wince. I couldn’t feel my fingers even as my body warmed slightly.
“Yes. I was looking for the mine. I found some things in Logan’s drawer that relate directly to my brother’s death.”
“Did you now? Enough proof to hang him?”
I pressed my lips together. “That’s not important now. I have to get Doc Martin.”
Clay leaned back in his chair and took out tobacco, pouring it on paper. Slowly, he rolled himself a cigarette. “Why’s you want t’save ‘em? You’d be free of him and of the ranch, if you just let him die.”
I narrowed my eyes, feeling the anger stir in me. “I want justice, Sheriff. But I want it the honest way. If Logan killed my brother, and it looks like from what I found that he has, then he’ll face a trial and be hung after a jury sees to it.”
“Ain’t gonna find no jury of his peers here. Not with all the money and business he brings t’town. Got t’take care of ‘em only way you can. And if you ever find that mine, I’ll bet you three bits, your brother’s body’ll be in it.”
I bit back my retort. “Just give me directions to Ralston’s.”
He shrugged. “Take the road south. It’ll get you there... eventually.”
“Isn’t there a shortcut of some sort?”
Clay tilted back in his chair. “None that I know.”
“Course there is.” Ma Peters came out with a mug of hot coffee and handed it to me. “Drink that first. Keep your blood from freezin’.”
I sipped the offered beverage with thanks and realized that she had liberally laced it with whiskey. She was right. The heady sensation did warm me. But for how long?
“Tell me the shortest way.”
She disappeared into the back.
“You’re makin’ a big mistake, Mrs. James.” Washburne employed my new name as he gave me a sharp look. “You’ll never get a conviction if he lives from this. People think he’s got God on his side.” Clay paused. “And you and I both know that ain’t the truth.”
I refused to acknowledge his comment. I believed in justice. I had to believe in it. And if it didn’t come from him it would come from some other sheriff.
Ma Peters returned with paper and a pencil and hastily drew me a map, indicating where I should turn.
“What if I can’t see the road?”
“Just keep goin’ south. You’ll find it.”
I nodded.
“Here.” She gave me a wool scarf to place around my head, so my ears wouldn’t freeze. “You’ll return it later.” It was the first time she’d smiled at me
“I will.”
I was out the door and back on the horse as quickly as I could.
The horse was as reluctant to continue as I was. But as I told Sheriff Washburne, I was going to see that Logan James lived to face trial.
We had barely left the town when Doc Martin’s familiar black buggy could be seen through the flurry of snowflakes. Relief filled me as I thanked God for his help. Now we only had to get back to the ranch in time to help Logan. Elated, I urged my roan into a gallop.
“Doc Martin!” I shouted over the wind.
“Whoa!” He pulled his horse to a stop yanking on the reins.
“You got a problem, youngster?”
“It’s Mrs. James,” I said, pulling down the scarf from my face and for the first time ever acknowledging my new name. “Logan’s b
een shot. I don’t know what happened. The bullet hit his stomach; I think. Petey thought it was an artery.” We shouted above the noise of the wind which had increased severely in the last half hour since I’d been inside the restaurant.
The doctor shook his head, indicating he didn’t like the sound of the wound.
“Where is he now?”
“Back at the ranch house. At least they were taking him there.”
The doctor nodded. “Get in then. We’ll tie your horse to the back.”
I did as was told and was glad for the relative shelter provided by the sides of the buggy.
Darkness had already begun to fall, as the swirling clouds of snow were gradually eliminating what little light the moon – or was that still the sun? – as the massive storm clouds soon overwhelmed the sky. We moved forward in silence.
Even if we had wanted to speak, we could not, for the freezing wind took our breath away creating a hollow moaning that crept through the valley.
Only as we drove along, did I now pause to think. Ma Peters had said that the doctor had been out delivering a baby and it occurred to me only then that my own cycle was late. I was sure I could not be pregnant, but I did not want to think about such things now.
I wondered if I had been right in not telling Clay Washburn everything I’d found. But it was too late now. Besides, I didn’t want Logan to die without knowing that I knew what he’d done, without a regular trial.
The whirling flurries were ice chips now and it was practically impossible to see the road. “Gotta stop.” The doctor said, pulling the buggy over. I could see icicles on the good doctor’s moustache and eyebrows.
“No. No, you can’t stop. I won’t have him dying on me. Not now.”
Determined to get back to the ranch. I took up the slack reins myself and cracked the whip as the exhausted animal strained to push himself forward. I realized then that we were stuck in a snowdrift.
Handing the leathers back to the doctor, I hopped out. My gloves were no good here and so with my bare hands, I began to shovel the snow away from the wheel.
“Pull.” I ordered the doctor.
He stared at me a moment and I feared that he was being overcome with the storm and the cold. A glazed look had come over his eyes.
Logan's Land Page 20
