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Authors: Cherie Shaw

Dark Journey Home (31 page)

BOOK: Dark Journey Home
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Inside the store, Lulu approached the counter, where
Clara was working.  “”The nerve of that man.”  She said to her sister.  Clara
looked at her questioningly, as Lulu continued, “I have just decided, sister
dear, that working here with you in this store isn’t the worst thing that could
happen to me after all.  It’s a respectable position, and better than listening
to some middle-aged, over-the-hill Casanova moaning over some young beauty who
wouldn’t even wipe her dainty little feet on him.”

 

“Well spoken, sis.  Welcome home.”  Clara smiled and
reached over the counter to clasp her sister’s hand.

 

Lulu glanced back over her shoulder, to gaze out the
front window to where a few folks stood awaiting the overdue stage, then let
out a deep sigh of resignation.

 

Lord Beckford had been puzzled by the loud disturbance
from across the road, and wondered what Henry Adams had been up to now, but
then his thinking was distracted by the loud creaking of the oncoming stage, as
horses’ hooves clattered heavily across the wooden bridge, at the edge of town,
then within seconds the vehicle pulled up in front of the hotel/stage stop,
sloshing mud every which way.  A disheveled bunch, the passengers, as they
slowly and achingly alit from the stage interior into the still-pouring heavy rainfall
and Lord Beckford grinned appreciatively at the bedraggled, frowning
middle-aged lady, as she alit the vehicle, and then glared in his direction. 

 

Noticing his western garb, she moaned aloud.  “I see
those injuns haven’t scalped that white head of yours yet, you old scoundrel,
you.”  She snapped, as her heavy mud-soaked skirts followed her to the
walkway.  Lord Beckford took her arm, then grabbed her two small valises in one
hand from the walk, where the driver had set them, and whispered into her ear,
“I believe, my dear Amelia, that little temper of yours is why I love you so
desperately.  Quite a refreshing change from the sniveling, gushing females of London society.” 

 

Her lips quivered in a half smile, as she whispered
back, “Oh shut up, you old fool.”

 

<><><> 

 

A steady rapping on her door awoke Olivia from a
restful nap.  The first thing she saw when she sleepily opened her eyes, was
the lovely rose sitting in a vase on the dresser.  She’d fallen asleep with a
smile on her lips.  The rapping continued, and as she remembered her uncle’s
warning to always ask before opening her door, she called, “Who is it,
please?” 

 

A very agitated female voice answered, “Olivia, are
you alright?  Open this door immediately.”   It couldn’t be, but it sounded
like….Olivia quickly turned the key in the lock, then flung open the door, just
before a bedraggled Amelia, all the way from England, hurried in and grabbed
Olivia in a bearlike hug.  All Olivia could do at this point was sputter,
choking back a sob. 

 

“Amelia….how in the world did you get here?” 

 

“The same way you did, child.  Now just let me take a
look at you.”  The older woman stepped back, and eyed Olivia up and down.  This
was the most pleasant surprise Olivia could imagine.  She had loved this woman
as a second mother, for so many years.  Amelia had given so much time and love
to caring for Olivia and Garth, that they often wondered if they deserved it. 

 

”Uncle Claude,” she laughed, as he stepped into the
room toting two small valises, “You knew all along that Amelia would be
following us here, didn’t you?” 

 

“No, Niece, to be honest, I had discussed it with her,
but we hadn’t come to a decision when we left.  I sent her a note, just before
you and I boarded the Silver Princess, as I had decided at the last minute,
that you probably would like her for a companion.  I had planned on asking
Maria and Ricardo to travel with us, but wasn’t sure if they would agree.  And
then there was Logan, and I knew you would need a female companion with you
after all.”  With this, Claude chuckled. 

 

Amelia looked at Claude, “Logan?  Logan who?”  She
continued to stare at Claude.  “Is there something you aren’t telling me?”  Her
brown eyes were snapping sparks now.  When neither spoke, she said, “Oh well,
shame on you anyway, Lord Beckford, for dragging my Olivia to this God-for-saken
no-man’s land.”  She turned back to Olivia, “Are you sure you’re alright,
dear?”  She worriedly asked.

 

“Of course, dear Amelia.  In fact I couldn’t be better,
especially now that you are here.  Speaking of being alright, your clothes are
soaking, and I can see that I’m going to be taking care of you for a change.” 
Olivia smiled.

 

“Nonsense child, I didn’t follow you across this
uncivilized land for you to care for me.”

 

“You will have absolutely no say in the matter.  I am
so glad you are here.”  She turned to her uncle.  “Uncle Claude, will you order
hot water to be brought up……oh, and an extra bed to be set up in here, along
with linens, towels, then maybe a pot of hot tea?” 

 

“Of course, Ollie.”  He turned to go, then looked back
at Amelia with a smile, winked at her secretively, then hastened down the
hallway.  Amelia actually blushed, then to cover up, she said, “Bloody old
fool.”  Olivia looked puzzled for a moment, and then smiled in understanding,
as the rain continued to pour outside the warm comfort of the room. 

 

The rain continued for two more days, only
occasionally letting up, while Olivia enjoyed conversing with Amelia, and
introducing her around.  Of course Garth got a tongue lashing from the older
woman, for not returning home to the manor in all those years, but deep down,
they were both glad to finally be together and she felt that Garth couldn’t
have chosen better in a wife than Bridgett.  She, if it could be done, would
certainly tame this young man, once and for all. 

 

When Amelia had met Logan at dinner that evening, her
woman’s intuition told her that this was one fine young man, and she also noted
Olivia’s demure, then at times antagonistic, attitude toward him.  However,
after conversing with Maria in private, this Latino Señora certainly had her
own opinions on the subject of romance; she decided to just let matters follow
their own course.  Olivia had waited all her life for this, and she had hoped
she would choose well.  Though the course of true love never ran smooth, she
hoped there wouldn’t be too many battle scars left on each participant. 

 

On the third day after Amelia’s arrival, the sun
managed to peek bravely from behind the few remaining clouds, and the town’s
citizens were finally able to leave umbrellas and slickers behind, as they
began a steady cleanup of yards, walkways, and roads.

 

Plans for re-claiming the Triple-B had been postponed until
the weather had cleared.  Bart McCain, the older ranch hand, had ridden out to
the ranch early figuring to talk to Cougar Olson and Ranger Welby.  It had been
decided that in such weather, nothing much could have changed with the ranch
situation, though now he needed to see how things were going.

 

Arroyos still seemed to be running full, but McCain
would keep to high ground, and was familiar with the trail.  His horse, after
several days in the stable, and full of oats, was raring to go and straining at
the bit. 

 

<><><> 

 

Henry Adams had not been seen around town since his
‘visit’ with Lulu.  However the doctor had gone by the boarding house twice to
change the bandage, and check Henry’s wound, which, he informed folks, was
healing nicely.  The doctor’s opinion of his patient was wisely kept to
himself, though deep down, he began to see this character as nothing less than
shady, however entertaining, according to local gossip.  He wouldn’t be at all
saddened to see the varmint leave town on the next stage.

 

A few citizens had even suggested taking up a
collection to buy the middle-aged Casanova a ticket, but they couldn’t decide
where to send him.  One fellow suggested a one way ticket to the nearest Apache
camp, but, on a more serious note, had added that he didn’t “think that would
be on the stage route”.  News of the man’s evil intentions had somehow made the
local grapevine and now more folks than usual were carrying arms for protection. 
They said, in case ‘dangerous’ ole’ Henry decided to purchase another one or
two-shot derringer.

Claude and his nephew, along with Logan and Ricardo,
had just finished an early breakfast in the hotel restaurant, and were now on a
second cup of coffee, as Ricardo lit up a long cigar.  “Well, what do you say, Señor
Claude?  Shall we pay this attorney Phillips a visit?”  He asked. 

 

“I believe we have put off seeing the chap long
enough. We’ve let him stew a few days longer than planned.”  Claude’s blue eyes
twinkled, enjoying the thought.

 

After taking a swallow of the strong coffee, Logan joined in, “I’ll enjoy seeing that crooked lawyer try to explain himself out of the
mess he’s gotten himself into.”

 

“Uncle Claude,” Garth began, as he settled his coffee
cup into the saucer, “when we go, we should go together, quietly and early, as
we spoke of last night.  That is before the ladies come down for breakfast.  If
I know my wife, and I do, I know she’ll not want to be left out of this
venture.  I’ve kind of spoiled her and now it’s hard to say ‘no’ to her, short
of tying her up that is.” 

 

Claude chuckled at the thought of his nephew’s
strong-willed wife wrapping his nephew around her dainty little finger, much
less the thought of Garth actually tying her up.  That would be the day.  “I
know what you mean, Garth.  What do you say we head down the road a bit, get
this thing over with?” 

 

Ricardo joined in, “I asked Maria to try to keep
Olivia and Bridget engaged in conversation for as long as she can, then when
they do come down to breakfast, Dolly can inform the ladies that we all had an
‘errand’ to run.” 

 

“Good enough.”  Claude stated.  “Let’s go boys.” 

 

Logan
led the way out
the door, anxious to face this Claybourne Phillips.  He hadn’t liked the man
the first time he’d seen him, and was sure he would like him even less now. 

 

Claude had already spoken to the town marshal of
Coyote Springs, Dayton Rhodes, and in case of trouble in town, the marshal was
available, but anything occurring outside of the town limits, would have to be
handled by Sheriff Paul Denton, although chances were that this was a private
matter, and neither the marshal nor the Sheriff would be needed.

 

Marshal Rhodes had mentioned, off-hand, that he had
thought it a bit strange at the time many years ago how someone like Perkins,
who was near penniless, could afford a thriving ranch like the Triple-B, but
hadn’t felt it was his concern at the time.  Ownership would have had to be
questioned in court, and Marshal Rhodes certainly knew the law, but was,
admittedly, unfamiliar with most legal proceedings; the same with Sheriff
Dayton.  

 

Should the local ‘outcast’ Henry Birch, in any way,
bother Claude’s niece, that’s when the marshal, and the sheriff, would step
in.  Henry didn’t know what he was dealing with.  Bothering a lady in any part
of the west, especially Texas, was the ultimate of crimes, and took precedence
over just about anything, short of murder, even bank robbery and cattle
rustling weren’t considered as bad. 

 

Logan Wakefield, for the last few days, had been
quietly watching for Henry to show his face anywhere near the hotel where
Olivia was staying.  He had his own way of dealing with men of Adams’ brand, and he hadn’t forgotten how either.

 

<><><> 

 

As the four men crossed the road, then headed towards
the small law office of Clayborne Phillips, Claude mentioned his previous talk
with Sheriff Dayton.  “This Dayton is a nice enough chap, probably a good
Sheriff too.”  He explained, “He said he could help remove a squatter from the
ranch, if necessary, but as far as getting a posse together to remove that
Perkins chap, he didn’t think that many townsfolk would go up against the
ornery bloke.  They seem to think that Perkins is one tough character.” 

 

Logan
, Garth and
Ricardo all laughed at that thought, and Ricardo offered, “I think we make our
own posse, no?” 

 

The others nodded in full agreement, as they reached
the door of the small law office, which was only a short walk from the hotel,
and across the road, also situated right next to a ladies’ dress shop, in a
false-fronted building.  Potted plants lined the boardwalk, and the small
fenced yard was clean and well-kept.  ‘ATTORNEY AT LAW” the sign over the door
said, so with Logan leading, the four men just plowed right on into the room.

BOOK: Dark Journey Home
5.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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