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Authors: Cherie Shaw

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BOOK: Dark Journey Home
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“Point well taken.”  Logan mused, as he gazed across
the table at Olivia, a tender expression in his eyes. 

 

Lord Beckford explained further, “Obviously the man is
not thinking straight, or he would realize the fact that under no circumstances
would Olivia be interested in him at this time, nor any other.  He’s up to no
good, and I seriously doubt that he is aware of the fact that I know he is
here.  His every movement is being observed, as I have already spoken with the
town marshal, a nice enough older chap, named Dayton Rhodes, obviously an
honest lawman.

 

“Anyway, Marshal Rhodes, along with his two deputy marshals,
have been observing the movements of Henry Birch very closely.  So far, the
only thing they’ve suspected him of is possibly cheating at cards in one of the
saloons here in town, though they haven’t been able to catch him at it yet. 
The marshal assured me that Birch needs to take care in that respect though, as
some of the locals take matters into their own hands when someone cheats at
cards, and the local law enforcement usually looks the other way when that
happens.”

 

Claude cleared his throat, then turned to Logan, “Now fill me in on what you and Ricardo found out at my ranch.” 

 

Logan
began explaining
the events of the last few days, and what information they had learned. 
Ricardo joined in a few times to add color to the tale of course, and gave
detail as to how he had worn down the big black stallion for Logan, so that he could
finish taming the muscular animal.  The watching cowhands had then
congratulated Logan. 

 

Claude and Garth both chuckled upon hearing the
fascinating stories of how they had tamed the mustangs.  Olivia only appeared
thoughtful. 

 

Then on to the matter of the ownership of the
Triple-B, Logan also emphasized the fact that the hands were well armed, and
would possibly fight for the ranch, however, he did add that once the ownership
was questioned, ‘which owner would they back’?   Perkins may have a problem at
that point.

 

Logan
mentioned the
brief encounter with the attorney, Clayborne Phillips, in the ranch yard, also
how the man had appeared to be more than mildly upset about something.

 

“Perhaps,” Logan began, “He’d have heard a rumor about
an Englishman arriving in town, then put two and two together.  Word does
travel fast in a small town, and Coyote Springs is definitely small.”

 

“I have been keeping a low profile, Logan,” Claude
began, “however; I haven’t been able to stay in my room all the time.  I did
have to speak to the marshal about Henry Adams.  It’s entirely possible that my
arrival has been noticed. Maybe that’s what Clayborne is so bothered about. 

 

“With the information we have now, it’s at the point
where we should speak to Clayborne in the morning, take him out to the ranch,
and force his hand.  I need to take possession of my property, as soon as
possible.  I’m sure you are anxious to return home to Wyoming as quickly as we
get this business of the ranch settled.”

 

Logan
grinned, “It
seems I’ve been headed the long way home for some time now, but wouldn’t have
missed this side trip for the world.  Besides, I’ve been gone so long now, that
my folks will expect me at this point when I get there, and not a minute
sooner.” 

 

Claude nodded, “Yes, true.  And I hope you know how
much I appreciate you and Ricardo being here for us.  It’s surely more than
anyone else would have done.”

 

Logan
explained then
how he had a pre-arranged meeting for later on outside of town with his friend
the ranger, and would like for Claude and Garth to ride with.  “You will surely
take to Ranger Welby.  He’s an honorable lawman, and a no nonsense protector of
law and order once he gets started.  There’s no stopping him once he gets
rolling.  Hell on wheels, I’d say.  Others have mentioned that fact too, though
I figure that’s even putting it mildly.  He’s, of course, working under cover
now, going by the name of Butch Hogan, and waiting until we give the word. 
Perkins and Holderman never saw the likes of this man.  They’ll take off with
their tails between their legs when Jake Welby takes charge.”

 

“I’m looking forward to this meeting, Logan.”  Claude
agreed. 

 

Garth nodded as he thought to himself how ironic it
was that he was here at this time, thinking of taking on a small time crook,
after all the adventures he’d had on the high seas.  He hadn’t exactly been
sitting still, watching the waves roll by.  Garth was a big husky man, and he’d
had many a waterfront fight, and knew how to handle himself pretty well.  He
sure didn’t need a rifle either, though he was proficient in handling one.  His
fists still worked pretty damned well.  He’d even fought a pirate or two, and
come out ahead.  Well, he’d join in whatever needed to be done here.  This was
family business.  He was surely glad he’d arrived when he had.  His business in
London could wait, as this situation was just heating up, and he hadn’t had
much fun for awhile, well at least not since he’d heard that Captain Devlin was
being escorted in chains back to England. 

 

It was midnight when the four men rode out of town,
taking the back road so as not to draw attention to themselves.  They had to
take care, just for awhile anyway, as they were meeting the under-cover Texas
Ranger, and they didn’t want to cause his cover to be blown, at least not until
he was good and ready. 

 

The meeting place was two miles out of town, neath the
remains of a large cottonwood tree that obviously had been struck by lightening
in years past, and was just barely standing, being held up by the dried up
roots alone.  The sparkling streambed was about twenty feet away from where
they dismounted, and they could hear the gurgle of water rushing over rocks and
boulders.  The moon was about three-quarters full and pretty well lit up the
surrounding desert and foothills.  The gurgling stream reflected the moonlight
with glistening stars in the water.   Jake hadn’t arrived yet, and the men
decided not to risk a campfire, so they stood quietly in the shadows of
darkness, and listened for hoof beats.

 

It had been a quiet fifteen minutes while the men
waited, after having ridden into camp, yet no one had heard the sound of Jake’s
horse, hadn’t even been aware of his arrival, until he quietly walked up from a
grove of trees behind where they were standing.  He’d obviously tied his mount
back somewhere among the shadows of the cottonwoods and oaks along the bank of
the rushing stream, the same sparkling stream that, further on down the trail,
ran along just outside the edge of town.  Coyote Springs had been named for the
creek or the creek after the town, whichever came first. 

 

Logan
made the
introductions, and after hands were shook, the meeting began.  No one appeared
to notice the lone figure of the cowhand who had followed Jake from the line
shack where he had been spending the night, before he was to be helping with
the beginning roundup of cattle before dawn the following morning.  At least
the quiet cowhand had believed himself to have been unobserved.   

 

Cougar Olson was a friendly quiet spoken sort of
fella, but sometimes his curiosity got the best of him, and when he had
suddenly woke to hear Jake riding out from the line shack where they’d been
staying, his curiosity had taken over his common sense, and he had hurriedly
saddled up, then tailed the newest ‘cowhand’ through the darkened desert
trail.  He now stood on a rise about twenty yards from where the men were
standing talking in low tones.  He couldn’t hear what was being said, but he
recognized the figures of the men there.  He noted the older white-haired man,
with the British accent, who had ridden with the stage on the way to Coyote
Springs.  And the two men, Logan and Ricardo.  It was dark, but he could see
enough to establish who it was that Butch Hogan was meeting with.  Cougar
didn’t recognize the huskily built man with the massive shoulders, and the
beard, but he figured he was an impressive fella, and one who he wouldn’t want
to tangle with in the dark, and any other time, for any reason.

 

Olson wanted to scratch his head in puzzlement, but knew
that any sudden movements could possibly be noticed.  He was surprised that he
hadn’t been caught tailing Hogan, as the man certainly didn’t seem the type to
be easily fooled, nor should he have been this easily tailed.  Olson had no
intention of mentioning this meeting to any of the other hands, except maybe
his good friend Bart McCain, an older man, and one who could be trusted.  He
didn’t know what was going on, though he was sure these were honest men, and
weren’t planning anything shady.  He figured he’d trust the lot of them, before
he’d even trust the men at the ranch whom he worked for.  But then he’d stayed
on because the place paid well, though he didn’t work for the friendliest of
men, probably not the most honest either.  He’d wondered about some things, but
kept his mouth shut usually. 

 

One thing Cougar Olson had found out one morning, and
had pondered over quite a bit.  He had been looking for his tobacco pouch, and
figuring he’d lost it out on the range, he’d meant to borrow a bit for a smoke,
and unwittingly had peeked into the saddle bags lying on the cot next to his,
thinking to just borrow a bit of tobacco, but instead his hand had pulled out a
tin star, wrapped in a small piece of burlap.  The badge was the kind worn by
the Texas Rangers.  He knew it right off, as his uncle had been a ranger years
ago, until he’d lost his life in a shoot-out while attempting to stop a
holdup.  

 

Cougar Olson had quickly put the ranger badge back into
the saddlebags.  The cot next to his was where the newest cowhand, Butch Hogan
slept.  He wondered if Hogan was using an alias.  He hadn’t for one minute
thought the badge didn’t belong to Hogan.  Olson wondered what was in the air,
and who this man, Hogan, really was.    

 

Cougar decided that this meeting was probably of some
importance, though obviously none of his business anyway.  Maybe he’d talk to
Butch at some point, but as of now, his priorities were to get back to the line
shack and get his sleep.  Dawn and work came early.  He slowly backed down from
the rise among the thick foliage, trying not to dislodge any rocks with his
heavy boots, he then found his horse where it had been tethered nearby, then
headed back the way he had come from.  He’d be asleep when Hogan returned to
the line shack. 

 

Ranger Jake Welby, alias Butch Hogan, chuckled softly,
as he kept his voice soft and quiet, “I guess the young chap who was working
with me and staying at the line shack, got a little curious.  I heard him tailing
me all the way here, nice enough fella, so I figured just maybe I’ll have a
little talk with him in the morning.  See just where he’ll stand.  I’ve been
known to take chances on folks before, and usually my instincts are fairly on
the mark.  I believe the boy can be trusted.  He’s called Cougar Olson, and
he’s young, though seems to have been around the territory enough to have seen
some action, carries that six-gun tied down too.  Quiet boy, though keeps his
eyes open.  He’s probably on his way back to the line shack by now.”

 

“Isn’t that one of the hands that was on the stage
with us?”  Lord Beckford asked, looking at Logan.

 

“Yes and a right nice chap.  We saw him and the older
fella too, back at the ranch.”  Logan answered.  “They both appear to be honest
men, and I don’t believe for one minute that either of them are aware of the
shady dealings going on at the ranch. 

 

Ranger Welby began, “After I have a talk with Olson in
the morning, I’ll make some excuse to head back to the ranch, just so’s I can
be around when you boys arrive with that ‘friendly’ lawyer-man from town, and
the fun begins.  Wouldn’t want to miss it.”  Jake added with a chuckle.  Then
he added, “Not even sure you all will need my two-bits’ worth though, with all
the backup you have.”  He nodded towards Garth, Logan, and Ricardo. 

 

Lord Beckford stepped forward now and began in serious
tones, “From the information that Logan and Ricardo have given me, as to the
distance the ranch lies from town, I figure we’ll arrive sometime in early
afternoon, with Phillips in tow, willing, or unwilling, either way, no
matter.” 

 

Garth joined in as he folded his muscular arms across
a massive chest.  “Uncle Claude, now you know very well, that lawyer fella will
be willing to join us on that ride.  He’ll be our ‘special’ guest, no less.  No
question at all of him being unwilling.  He’ll be the willingest member of our
war party.  You can count on that fact.”  With that he gave a gleeful laugh
that shook the bushy auburn beard that took up the majority of the lower half
of his strong handsome face. 

 

Claude shook his white head, and nodded, “Point well
taken, nephew.”  He then turned to the Texas Ranger friend of Logan, and said,
“Have no doubt, sir, you will and have been, very much needed in this
situation, and as far as the confrontation tomorrow, although my nephew
believes himself to be a one man army of horse soldiers, we are greatly in need
of your expertise, along with your lawful backing.”

BOOK: Dark Journey Home
11.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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