Logan's Land

by Serita Stevens

  “Have the horse pull, I said.” I reached up and shook the doctor. He woke from his momentary stupor and nodded and cracked the whip.

  The horse made another valiant effort, but it wasn’t enough.

  Once more I got down and scooped out snow.

  “Now.”

  This time the buggy returned to the road.

  I blew on my hands now white with cold and so numb that I had no feeling in them.

  Quickly, I remounted the buggy and grabbing the reins from the fatigued doctor. I drove us the rest of the way back to the ranch.

  ~

  They had put Logan in bed; Petey and several of the other hands were grouped around him. Mr. Sparks stood outside the room, the outsider looking in.

  “How is he?”

  “Lost a lot of blood.” The black man shook his wiry head.

  “Did you get the bullet out?”

  “No, ma’am. In too deep. Couldn’t do it.”

  I pressed my lips together and poured a stiff drink of brandy for the doctor and one for myself. Then I escorted him into the bedroom. “Heat some water for us,” I told Sparks. “Now! We’re going to need it.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I cleared the others out. And when I was alone with just him and the doctor, picked up Logan’s heavy hand. It was almost as white and cold as mine.

  To my own amazement, I found myself lifting his hand to my lips and kissing it.

  I didn’t realize he’d woken so it startled me when he opened his eyes for a moment and stirred.

  “Don’t worry.” His voice cracked. “You haven’t seen the last of me yet.” His eyes shut again.

  Was that a promise or a threat? Whatever happened, I told myself again he would not die until I had justice done.

  “Mayhap you’d best leave.” The doctor, now somewhat recovered, came forward to the bed as Sparks brought in a steaming water basin.

  “I’ve seen blood before, doctor. I’ve assisted at the children’s hospital in Chicago.”

  He shrugged. “If you’re sure. Some people get mighty uncomfy with this.” He indicated the smelling salts in case I needed them.

  Blood spurted everywhere. Several times I had to avert my eyes. I did so by looking at Logan’s pale features and wondering what would happen after he recovered.

  Despite the queasiness, I stayed there, along with Mr. Sparks, and held Logan’s unconscious form as the doctor probed for the bullet.

  Immersed in my thoughts I didn’t move until the doctor tapped my shoulder.

  “Done.” He held up a small, round, and bloody lead pellet. “I’ll place a pressure dressing on him. Then we’ll pray for the best.”

  I swallowed hard. “He’ll survive?”

  “Don’t know. Depends on how much he wants to live, Mrs. James. Man’s lost a lot of blood. But sure, glad you fetched me. Wouldn’t have had a chicken’s chance if’n we hadn’t gotten this outa him.” He touched Logan’s brow. “Still cool. Probably have a fever by evenin’. Next twenty-four t’forty-eight hours’ll tell us what’ll be.”

  I nodded. “I’ll stay up with him, after I talk to Sara.”

  Doc Martin smiled at me and shook his head. “If I were you, Mrs. James, I’d get some sleep first. Then you can stay up with him.” He paused. “You’re one brave and determined lady. Sure lucky he has you on his side.”

  I flushed and glanced down at the pellet which the doctor had put on the table. It looked oddly familiar.

  “Doctor, what type of gun do you think this came from?”

  He put on his gold-rimmed specs and picked it up, holding it up to the lantern light. “Looks to me like a mighty small gun, one of those pocket jobbies. I’d say a 12mm.”

  I sucked in my breath and forced myself to nod. “Thank you, doctor. Will you rest a bit before you head back to town?”

  He smiled at me. “Don’t mind if I do.”

  I waited until he and the others had left the room. Then alone with the unconscious Logan I picked up the bullet. It was the same caliber as the gun I had been carrying, only now did I realize that it was no longer in my boot.

  Shivering, I put the bullet into the pocket of the jeans I still wore and hurried upstairs to bathe and change my clothes.

  Chapter 27

  As the doctor predicted, Logan did develop a high fever. In his delirium he tossed and turned. I tried to hold his hand but every time I did, he’d open his eyes and call me “Ginny.” So I stopped that and contented myself with changing the rag which cooled his fevered brow.

  I kept the fire stoked and fed him soup whenever I could encourage him to swallow.

  Reluctantly, the doctor had shown me how to change the dressing on the wound. It wasn’t something I relished, but I did not want anyone else to do it. Someone, using my mother’s gun, had shot Logan.

  I suspected they’d been aiming at me, but I had no proof. Until I knew what was transpiring, I was going to protect him.

  Confusion flooded my thoughts. One moment, I felt warmth and love for Logan and recalled the pleasure he’d brought me while on the other hand I rehashed how the man had shanghaied me into marriage and, worse, how he’d undoubtedly killed my brother.

  It was true I had the letters, the watch fob, and the other things which I had found in his desk drawer. But that was still only circumstantial evidence, I told myself. Anyone could have planted that there. Couldn’t they?

  I wanted to believe that and yet I didn’t.

  What did the Lord want of me?

  Strange as it might seem, staying at his side day after day, I found myself examining everything I knew. Could Logan be innocent?

  Yet someone had killed my brother. Someone had taken over his claim and made it part of the James property. Someone had stolen his letters from me.

  It surprised me Sheriff Washburne didn’t stop by to take any statements or question anyone about the shooting. Probably because he assumed Logan near death, but…

  Doc Martin stopped by at the end of the week.

  He pronounced Logan would live thanks, he said, to my constant care. Still it would be weeks before he’d be out of bed and several more before he’d resume his duties around the ranch. Meanwhile, along with Henry, I had done what I could.

  All the snow from that freak storm had melted and the grasses waved invitingly once more in the distance. The air was definitely colder and there was no doubt that winter was on its way out, but not yet.

  Two weeks from the day Logan had been shot, I entered the room to find him sitting up in bed, wide awake.

  “I hear I have you to thank for my life.”

  I flushed and said nothing as I placed the tray of hot soup on his lap.

  “Why did you come out to the range like that?”

  I shrugged and looked at my hands folded in my lap, not knowing what to say.

  He reached out his hand to touch me and just the feel of him made me jump.

  “Perhaps you’d better eat your soup.” I blushed.

  “Perhaps I’d better.” Slowly he began to sip, but his eyes never left mine.

  Once again, I was reminded of the fact that my monthly cycle had not yet come. But I told myself that it would shortly. The stress I had been under was surely the reason it had delayed. Or perhaps I’d miscounted.

  “I can’t tell you how good it is to look at you again.” He smiled at me and I felt my heart race a little.

  “Is it?” I heard the trembling in my voice as I tried to calm myself. “Do you know every time I touched you or changed the cloth on your brow, you called out Ginny’s name.”

  It was Logan’s turn to blush. I never thought I’d see his rugged weather-beaten features redden like that. But with the loss of blood and time in bed, he’d become pale and wan so that the coloring stood out.

  Again, he reached out his hand. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. Ginny means nothing to me anymore. She’s dead and buried. You’re my wife now, Elisa.”

  A chill went through me. But I did not want to b
e his wife, or did I?

  I took a deep breath, knowing that I had to ask until I found out. “How did Ginny die?”

  He quickly turned toward his soup and began eating. I knew he was hungry, but I was determined to press my advantage. “Logan, I think it’s important for me to know more about her, and how she died.” I paused. “Especially since Sara keeps a picture of her in her room... and I seem to look a lot like her.”

  He continued to eat the soup in awkward silence. “You do have some resemblance, but Ginny was a lot more passive than you.”

  I met his eyes now, questioning, waiting.

  His tone was strained as he began to talk. “To tell you the truth, I really don’t know how she died. She went out one day saying she was going to pick wild blueberries. She didn’t come back. When I went out to look for her, I found her ‒ with a small hole in her skull.” His voice cracked then and I could feel his pain.

  Until I recalled that his story differed greatly from Morgan’s, I wanted to believe him. Truly I did. But I feared I could not.

  I wanted a moment for both our emotions to calm. “And the wedding dress?”

  This time he would not meet my eyes. “It was hers. I wanted to banish her memory and replace it with my memory of you.”

  “Oh.” I was beginning to think that I had sadly wronged him by not starting our relationship as he’d wished, for I wanted him to think of me and not Ginny – and then I realized with horror the direction my thoughts had taken me. It was wrong, I told myself. This man is a murderer. It was wrong to think about him the way I was.

  I met his eyes, unable to be silent. “If that was the case, then why did you not say something on the day of our vows? If you had given me a reason like that, do you think I would have objected?”

  He shook his head and once more I could hear the pain. “I couldn’t speak to you of Ginny.” He sighed. “I’m rather tired. Elisa. Will you leave me now?”

  An ice block seemed to slam down on my heart and it was just as well he said what he did just now for it helped me to realize that my first thoughts were right. I nodded and stood.

  ~

  I was shocked to find Morgan waiting for me in the parlor. He had come to visit his brother only once or twice in the past few weeks. One could easily have gotten the impression that he did not care, and yet I was sure, despite all he’d told me that he did have love for his brother. How could he not?

  Morgan was drinking some of Logan’s special imported liquor and he waved me over, offering me a drink.

  I shook my head.

  “I thought you liked this?” He held up a bottle of French brandy.

  “Sometimes I do.” I eyed him, wondering what was so important that he had summoned me from the sick room. “But not today.”

  Morgan shrugged. “Yes, perhaps you’re right. I can see you have a lot on your mind.”

  “As I’m sure do you.” I responded, taking a seat on the horsehair sofa. “What did you need to see me about, Morgan?”

  He grinned at me and took the chair opposite. As he sat back, he smiled again. “I always liked this chair. It makes me feel quite regal.”

  “Morgan. I... ”

  He held up the hand that still gripped the bottle and refilled his empty glass.

  “My brother will soon be on his feet again.”

  I nodded because I wasn’t sure from his tone if it was a statement or a question.

  “Have you given thought as to how you’ll proceed?”

  “What do you mean?” I stared at him blankly.

  He sipped more of the brandy and then, realizing that the bottle he held was empty, tossed it against the fireplace, smashing it to pieces.

  I winced.

  “Clay told me you found conclusive evidence that Logan killed your brother.”

  My mouth fell open. “I didn’t say that.”

  “Oh?” He leaned back in his chair. “What did you say, sister dear?”

  I flushed. I did like Morgan. Except that day of the wedding, he’d been nothing but pleasant to me, and yet there was a reluctance in me to speak to him of these matters.

  “What did you say?” he repeated.

  I sighed. “Merely that I found something that... that belonged to my brother.”

  A smile went from one ear to the other as Morgan stood and helped himself to one of Logan’s other bottles. “You are sure then that my brother is your man.”

  Once again, I flushed. “I wouldn’t have said anything to the sheriff if I wasn’t sure.”

  “I thought so.” He paused to drink more. “In that case, my dear, since you insisted on seeing that my brother survive the gunshot, which you might want to consider that it might have been meant for you... ”

  I blushed.

  “After all, he could easily have arranged for that shot and the killer missed.”

  “But that would mean he’d have known it was me at the camp that night?”

  Morgan shrugged. “I did. No reason why he wouldn’t have.”

  My eyebrows rose. “You did?” My heart stopped for a moment. I could have sworn that Logan hadn’t recognized me until my hat had come off.

  “Anyway,” as I started to say, “I believe your best course of action would be to leave now before my brother is well enough to leave his room.”

  Once again, I felt myself paralyzed as I stared at Morgan. “Leave now? Before I see justice done?”

  His eyes met mine. “I promise you, Elisa, I will see that justice is done. I will see that your brother’s death is avenged.”

  I pressed my lips together and then slowly shook my head. A slight dizziness assailed me. “No. I can’t. I’ve gone this far. I... I have to stay. I... excuse me. Sara needs me.”

  I fled the room knowing that what my brother-in-law said was very reasonable and I was feeling more confused than ever before.

  I thought about Morgan’s words for the next few days. But every time I went in to take care of Logan my resolve to leave would fail. I could not leave now until I had seen justice done, I told myself. And as I looked at him sleeping peacefully in the bed, my heart told me that there were other reasons why I did not want to leave. Reasons which I refused to admit to myself.

  Two weeks after he’d been shot, Logan was up and about, insisting on at least partially returning to his duties. The roundup had been finished by Morgan, Henry, Petey and the others. But now there was the chore of driving the cattle to the stock yards and rail head where they would be sold then shipped east.

  “Surely, you’re not going with them.”

  Logan ruefully shook his head. “I would have, but there are too many things to get done around here before the first big snow.” He looked at me then. I wondered then if any of those projects had to do with me or with Elliot.

  Chapter 28

  I waited almost impatiently, dreading the day when he’d walk back into his study. Would he notice the drawer of Elliot’s things had been touched? I had tried to put things back in the same position when I explored, but I had taken the letters. He might miss that very thing.

  If he noticed anything, he said nothing of it to me.

  ~

  Three days after he had started back at his chores, I stood out in the corral, watching Mr. Sparks break one of the mustangs they’d captured while on roundup. It wasn’t unusual to find wild horses in the canyons and passes while they were searching for the cattle. Usually they let them go, but this one was a beauty and I could see why he’d been brought back. If the horse could be tamed, he’d make a good sire.

  The thought of that reminded me again I had not had my cycle. I wondered if I should consult Doc Martin, but decided that the stress I’d been under, with the caring for Logan and all, had been more than enough to stall me several weeks, if not more. I told myself that I wasn’t worried. And yet it was impossible not to look toward my stomach to see if I noticed any changes.

  Since it appeared it would be one of the last nice days before winter set in, I’d brought Sara o
utside to play in the yard.

  We were both caught unawares as Morgan rode up, greeting us in a friendly manner.

  As he dismounted, he motioned me over. “Where’s my brother?”

  “Logan’s in town. I expect him to be back in another hour or so. He left early this morning.”

  “Good. It’s you I wanted to talk with.” He paused. “You didn’t take my advice.”

  I shook my head. “I had to stay until proof is found.”

  “Well if it’s proof you want, then proof you’ll have.”

  My eyes widened. “What have you found?”

  “Your brother’s mine for one.”

  I stared at him. “You mean you didn’t know where it was before?”

  “How could I?” He shrugged. “It was Logan he was working for and Logan who had the claim taken over in his name.”

  I recalled the book I’d found and then nodded. What Morgan told me seemed plausible enough and yet...

  “If you want, I can take you to it. Then you can go down and explore. I’ll bet you anything that we find your brother’s body there.”

  My mouth was dry. I looked back at Sara playing.

  “So, you want to come with me? Or do you want to continue risking your life here?” He remounted.

  A cold chill swept over me like the wind from the mountains. But I had to know. Shielding my eyes from the glare of the sun, I looked up at my brother-in-law and nodded. “Wait right here. I’ll go change.”

  He nodded. I thought I saw him smile as I turned to pick up Sara.

  “Want to play!” She signed with her fingers as I’d taught her.

  “Inside, sweetie.” I kissed her and held her as I carried her into the house and set her up in her room with the colors and blocks.

  Quickly, I put on my riding clothes and then took Logan’s old coat, the same one I had used that day on the range. I feared that it would be cold up near the pass and certainly if I went into the mine.

  I started down the stairs and then as a precaution stuck sulphur matches, a small candle and a rope in my pocket. I didn’t know why I’d need it, but if the mine had no lanterns...