Dark Journey Home (49 page)

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The rain had slowed to a light drizzle early
afternoon, leaving a distinct chill in the air, just as the Beaver Creek
Trading Post came into view.  Olivia and Amelia pulled their heavy shawls
tighter around themselves, and the men buttoned up their coats, just before
exiting the stage to make a mad dash for the old weathered building.  They hoped
for a hot meal, and hot water to freshen up.  They found the meals to be hot,
however leaving much to be desired in quality and taste.  As for hot water, it
would take too long to heat, so they settled for a pitcher of cool water and a
basin, in a long hallway just off the main room.  Half an hour later, they were
back in the stage, with a fresh team of horses sloshing through the muddy
trail, and a driver, whom they had recognized as Joe Carlson, from their
previous journey, along with “Wolf” riding shotgun, both men wearing slickers
over heavy coats. 

Two miles down the trail, Logan looked over at Claude
Beckford, “Guess we’re leaving the rain behind.”  He said, then continued, “If
I’d known that, I would have ridden horseback for a while.” 

“Yes, same here.”  Claude answered.  “It would be good
to ride, but there will be plenty of time for that later on.” 

“Seems like we’ll have a cavalry escort for awhile
now.  Up ahead of us.”  Logan stated, matter-of-factly, as he peered through
the rain-streaked window.

Claude leaned forward to look, “By Jove, Logan my boy,
you don’t miss a thing.  So that’s a cavalry outfit?”  He asked. 

“Yes sir.  They’re still a ways ahead of us, but we’re
gaining.  They’re riding slow.  Must have seen the stage comin’, and will have
a word with Carlson.  Seems like a troop of about fifteen men, or so.” 

Both hardened riders on the rear seat of the stage,
had leaned forward to take a look, then smiled, leaned back and closed their
eyes.  Nothing unfamiliar to them out there. 

Olivia shivered, clutching her shawl tighter, then
spoke, “It looks like they’re pulling off the trail, Uncle Claude.  Do you
suppose Mr. Carlson will stop the stage to talk to the soldiers?”  She queried. 

“I’m sure of it, Ollie.”  He answered. 

Logan
looked down at
Olivia, and grinned, “Old Carlson knows what he’s about, ma’am.  Don’t you
worry your pretty little head none.” 

Startled at his remark, Olivia gave Logan a hard look,
which said more than words, could impress upon him, in regard to his
statement.  She hadn’t asked his opinion, and couldn’t care less what he
thought anyway.  She was not, and had never been, just a dumb female, to be
pacified with soothing talk from ‘big strong men’, and it was about time that Logan understood the fact.  She still did not understand this big green-eyed cowboy, nor,
at this point, wanted to.   

Her Uncle Claude hid a wide grin behind his hand, and
Amelia wrinkled her brows with an attempt to keep from laughing out loud.  Logan was, once again, getting a first hand introduction into the real temperament of Miss
Worthington.  Hers was a strong-willed nature, not to be undermined by anyone’s
male ego.  To those who knew her well, her strength of character showed more
often than not, and at times, her sarcasm sprinkled generously with tears of
frustration. 

It seemed Logan Wakefield still had a ways to go with
learning the ways of strong-minded women, especially those of high intelligence;
a description which certainly fit Miss Olivia.  Many others before him had
learned painfully of Olivia’s belief in equality, and she would accept nothing
less than just that from anyone.  Though, deep down, she now knew she had met
her match, though why did she have to be so attracted to the rogue?  Well, the
cold shoulder would be her best defense, for a while anyway.  She shifted even
further along the seat and leaned against the window looking out once again at
the wet countryside, tilting her pert little chin higher in the process.  Logan wondered to himself, ‘Now what did I say wrong?’

The Lord of Beckford Manor had always been proud of
his niece’s independence; that is after he had learned the hard way to live
with it.  Now it would be a sight to behold when this young man had finally
learned to accept her strong independence as fact, and, by all means, not to
insult her intelligence during the process.    

As the horse soldiers began dismounting, then removing
glistening-wet slickers and rolling them up to tie behind saddles, Joe Carlson
pulled on the reins and brought the team to a halt at the side of the trail,
set the brake, then climbed down from his seat on the stage.  Wolf chose to
remain at his post with his rifle across his knee, a sour look on his face, and
a curse word, or two on his lips. 

Carlson, his boots sloshing through mud, approached
the soldiers as Colonel Jeffrey Winters dismounted his horse and reached out a
welcoming hand to the weathered driver of the stage.  “How are you, Carlson?” 
He asked.  “Nice to see you again.”

“Been awhile, Colonel.  What brings you to this part
of the territory?”  Carlson asked, as they shook hands. 

“We’re heading up to Ft. Laramie.  I have a fresh
young officer who needs some desert training, and Wyoming’s as good a training
ground as any.  In the spring, we’ll be stationed at Ft. Dodge for a while.”

“I hear Dodge City is a fast growing town too. 
Eastern cattle buyers have found it a good place to buy herds, then ship them
back east.  They don’t have the cattle ranches back there and the need for
cattle is growing.”  Carlson offered. 

The Colonel added, “I was stationed at Dodge a few
years ago, and kind of look forward to seeing the place again.  It’s a tough
part of the country, but, as you say, it’s growing faster now since the
railroad began shipping cattle from there.  I hear they have some good law
enforcement in Dodge now though.  A young straight-shooter.”

“Well,” Carlson began, “Good luck to you, Colonel,
“Sure nice to see you again.  Been years.” 

Colonel Winters answered, “Maybe we’ll meet again soon,
on the road.  You never know just where we’ll be.  Sometimes we’re stationed in
a place and then get orders to head for some unheard of camp.”   

Carlson gave a loud guffaw, then took off his old
battered Stetson, gave it a couple of shakes to get some of the rain drops off
the crown, then shoved it back on his head, thought a moment, “Well, we need to
pull out, make our schedule.”  He added. 

“Never knew you to be concerned about schedules in the
old days, Carlson.” 

The driver chuckled, “Now, you just may be right about
that.”  He said, then added, “No matter, we usually seem to be on time, within
an hour or so, anyway.”    

Logan and Claude had walked over from the stage, and
introductions were made.  After a brief conversation with the Colonel, they
walked back to the vehicle with Carlson. 

Claude ventured, “It’s nice to know that group of
soldiers will be in the vicinity while we ride to the next town.”

The driver laughed, “Don’t let my partner, Wolf, hear
you say that.” 

“Why not?”  Logan asked. 

“Not sure why, but he feels the Cavalry has only one
purpose and that’s just to get in his way.  As long as I’ve known Wolf, he’s
strongly disliked anything about the Military.  He believes he can handle
anything without their interference.  He first hired on with the stage company
‘bout six years ago, an’ been like that since I’ve known ‘im.  We mostly work
to an’ from the town of Nowhere.”

“Yes, that’s where we will be staying tonight.  Next
town, isn’t it?”  Beckford asked. 

Carlson nodded, then added, “Never have known why Wolf
feels the way he does, an’ prob’ly never will, an’ I don’t intend to ask.”

Logan
pondered, “It’s
hard to understand why.  He’s a quiet man, never says a thing.” 

“You bet he is, but he’s a mighty good man to have on
your side, though for some reason folks seem to steer clear of ‘im.  We get
along though.”

“The Colonel said they would rest up here about twenty
minutes, then head for Nowhere.”  Logan said, then added, “He said we could
meet in town and talk awhile.  It will be good to talk with some of the
enlisted men too.  I noticed, by the stripes on his sleeve, a Lieutenant in the
group.”  Then as Logan looked around, he noted that the young Lieutenant had
walked over to the stage and, while touching the brim of his hat, was looking
into the stage window; a wide grin on his young face.  Logan scowled. 

Lord Beckford had noticed the Lieutenant at the same
time, and the scowl on Logan’s face.  He thought, “This situation is getting
more interesting as time goes by.”

“I see the young Lieutenant has spotted our women in
the stage.  Well, he doesn’t need to be bothering them.”  Logan growled. 

“I’m sure he means no harm, only being friendly.” 
Claude ventured, as he chuckled inwardly. 

Logan
continued
scowling, until he noticed that the shotgun rider, Wolf, had quickly dropped to
the ground, from his seat on the stage, and was rapidly approaching the young
Lieutenant, his working rifle in hand pointed dangerously at the young
officer.  He waved the weapon from the officer, pointing it in the direction of
the military troop, motioning him in no uncertain terms to return to his
group. 

The young red-faced Lieutenant nodded at the ladies in
the stage, then walked hurriedly, posture straight as a board, to his troop,
and Logan then grinned, as he noted the Colonel talking in no uncertain terms, to
the young officer. 

Once seated back in the stage, Logan heard Olivia say
to Amelia, as she batted her long eyelashes, “My, that was a nice-looking young
officer, wasn’t he, Auntie dear?  So polite and respectful.”  Logan scowled
again and kept the expression during the remainder of the ride to the town of
Nowhere. 

In the still of a cool and somewhat wet autumn
evening, the tired team pulled the creaking stage to a rumbling halt in front
of the small two-story ‘Nowhere’ hotel, with its faded sign, and rough siding.

The travelers remembered that, though the exterior of
the establishment had not been in the most presentable condition, the rooms had
been clean and, in the restaurant, the waitress had made a pot of tea and brought
beef sandwiches to them.  With a little luck, maybe they would now have the
same fare.  Leaving early in the morning, and not taking the train as it would
be going out of their way, they would be heading north on a different stage
route.  The journey would be long and Olivia, at times, wondered why she hadn’t
just stayed on at the ‘Triple-B’.  She missed Maria terribly and needed her companionship
and wise advice as never before.  Well, she would see her again in the spring,
and, of course, her dear Amelia was with her.

Logan
had
assured them that winter would soon cover the whole of Wyoming with a thickness
of white snow as far as the eye could see, and there would be no travel to
return to the ranch until the spring thaw.  Olivia was suddenly ashamed of
herself.  What was she thinking of?  Her uncle seemed to be enjoying himself,
and Logan had been away from his home for many years.  She needed to get hold
of herself.  Well, that young blonde officer would be here in town, maybe eat
at the restaurant, while they were there.  She hadn’t gotten his name and Logan hadn’t seemed to take a liking to the cavalry officer, and, for some reason, had
even frowned at the poor young man though he hadn’t even met him.  Interesting!

‘Perhaps,’ Olivia thought to herself, as she entered
the hotel, on the arm of her uncle, ‘if I could get the officer’s name, then
introduce him to Logan, maybe the two men would at least be friendly to one
another.  Well, then again, maybe not.’  She hesitated a moment, then thought
again to herself, ‘I wonder if the Cavalry will be traveling the same way we
will be going in the morning.’

Wolf, without a word, wearing his usual sour
expression, had already disappeared through the bat-wing doors of the nearest
saloon, so Logan helped carry the luggage into the hotel as Claude walked in
with his wife and niece to arrange for rooms.  He had wired ahead so accommodations
should have been ready.