Dark Journey Home (28 page)

PA,

WANTED YOU TO KNOW THAT STILL ON MY WAY HOME.  TAKING
THE LONG WAY THROUGH A PLACE CALLED COYOTE SPRINGS IN TEXAS.  DID MY THREE
FRIENDS SHOW UP YET HUNTING WORK? JIM REYNOLDS, MACK PARSONS, AND GABE JOHNSON?
GOOD MEN, OLDER MEN AND EXPERIENCED HANDS.  THEY WILL WORK HARD FOR YOU.  TELL
THEM NOT TO WORRY ABOUT CAPTAIN DEVLIN ANY MORE. WILL EXPLAIN MORE WHEN I GET
HOME.  LOVE TO YOU AND MA.

YOUR LOVING SON,

 LOGAN

He then gave the agent his father’s name and the
address to send the wire to, in Wyoming territory.  Homer got busy sending out
the wire, and then he asked, “You want to wait around for a reply?”

“No,” Logan answered, “if one should come in, just
leave it at the hotel desk and I’ll pick it up later.  Thanks a lot.”

After paying the clerk the amount required for the
wire, Logan put his hat back on and stepped out into the still pouring rain. 
He realized it was still too early for the General Store to be open, so he
quickly ducked back into the hotel lobby, figuring on one more cup of strong
black coffee.  It was going to be a long busy day……….maybe. 

Olivia was walking with Maria across the lobby from
the restaurant, towards the stairway to return to her room, just as Logan
rushed through the entrance door, presenting quite a sight, as water dripped
from his wide hat brim, and down onto his shirt, and she suppressed a giggle,
covering her mouth with her dainty small hand.

Maria was not so tactful, and laughed out loud,
saying, “For heaven’s sake, Logan Wakefield!  You gringos do know how to come
in out of the rain after all, do you not?” 

“Well, I’m certainly glad to be so entertaining to you
ladies.”  He retorted.  “Always ready to please.”  He looked at Olivia, and
added, “And you may go ahead and let out the laughter too, before you choke on
it.”

“Well, you do know how to make an impressive entrance,
Mr. Wakefield.”  Olivia laughed out loud then.

“I’m still ‘Mr.’ to you, after all we have gone
through together?”  Logan quipped, feeling like he had just struck gold.  Prim
and proper Olivia Worthington, joking with him?  Well, life certainly was
taking a turn for the better, day by day.

He asked then, “Aside from enjoying my obvious
discomfort, did you ladies enjoy your breakfast?”  Logan had liked hearing
Olivia’s laughter, a rare sound indeed.

Olivia was dressed in a pale blue cotton day gown,
with tiny pearl buttons running down the front of the bodice, and white lace
enhanced the neckline.  Logan couldn’t stop enjoying the sight, but he realized
that if he mentioned how lovely she looked at that moment, she would probably
dart up the stairs to her room, so he held his thoughts. 

“Well?” She was tapping her dainty foot, and he
realized that she was speaking to him.

“I’m sorry, what was it you were saying?”  He blurted.

“I only said that the breakfast was delicious, and
asked if you were going back in the restaurant for hot coffee.  My uncle and
brother are in there now.”

“Oh, yes, of course.  That’s exactly where I was
headed.  Well…….I will see you ladies later.”  Logan gave Olivia a grin, and a
lingering look, then he turned to the restaurant. 

Olivia only nodded, gave Logan a brilliant smile, then
after another burst of laughter, she quickly walked toward the stairway.

“Adios, Señor.”  Maria waved at Logan, then followed
Olivia up the stairs, as she loudly declared, for everyone within hearing
distance to hear, “When Ricardo and I leave for our visit to relatives in
Mexico, I shall miss all further developments in this blooming romance, that
neither one of you will admit to.”

“Maria, really, I haven’t the slightest idea what you
are talking about.”  Olivia huffed, as she hurried up the stairway, though she
did let out a slight giggle, as she added, “He did look kind of…um…attractive
though, didn’t he?”

Maria just shook her head, and said, “You gringos, you
play games with this romance thing.  We Latinos, we are straightforward with
our feelings, and say what we feel, and you do not even address each other with
first names either.  For shame.”  She scolded. 

Once alone in her room, Olivia took in a deep breath,
and wondered why her heart was pounding so hard.  “Well,” she thought to
herself, “Since Logan Wakefield has sufficiently recovered; he does present a
rather devilishly handsome appearance, and those eyes of his.”  She sighed,
then caught herself, thinking.  “Come now, Olivia, you certainly are not besotted
with that rogue!  A cowboy at that!  Absolutely not!  Never!”

She walked across the heavily carpeted floor of the
room, and jerked open her valise, pulling out her umbrella.  She and Maria were
going shopping.

Ricardo was now clad in typical conservative western
wear, jeans, a blue plaid shirt, scuffed cowhide boots, and his flat brimmed
beat-up black cowboy hat hung on a nearby hook, as he lingered at the table in
the restaurant, over coffee and a long, possibly Cuban, cigar.  His dark
flashing eyes watched the movement of the smoke rings he blew towards the
ceiling, though in reality, he was also watching the patrons as they filed into
the restaurant for their morning meal.  Always alert, he had learned from an
early age to always be aware of his surroundings, though casual in appearance,
no one could guess the depth of his attentiveness. 

Dolly was busy now, pouring coffee at most tables,
then refilling cups, serving food as it was prepared in the kitchen.  She
enjoyed her customers, and even after years of waiting tables, she still felt
the restaurant to be near to a second home, and when she noticed the
white-haired Englishman enter the dining room with his nephew, she welcomed
them, and hurried to take their breakfast order, as she set two fresh cups on
the table and poured their coffee, then refilled Ricardo’s cup, before
returning to the kitchen. 

Garth explained that his wife, Bridgett had ordered
him to bring her breakfast to her on a tray when he returned, so that was just
what he would do.  “Always keep the ladies happy.”  He grinned.    

A while later Lord Beckford and Garth were heartily
putting away their own portions of breakfast, when Logan joined them at the
table, after first hanging up the dripping wet Stetson, then he said to
Ricardo, “Guess we’ll wait until the mercantile opens to pick up those
slickers, amigo.”

Logan
noticed
Ricardo’s attire, and said, “Now you look like a real Texan, amigo.”

“At least I am not wearing the rainwater, as you
are.”  Ricardo retorted, “It seems to me that it would be a little late for you
to buy a slicker, it would serve no purpose now, as you are wearing half a
year’s rainfall, and have tracked the other half all over the floor.”

Dolly spoke up, as she poured Logan’s cup full of the
steaming brew, “Oh we don’t mind a little water on the floor.  Won’t be the
first time, just look around,” she gestured toward the other guests, “they
ain’t exactly many other dry folks in here either.” She walked over to a nearby
table, and began taking more breakfast orders. 

Ricardo spoke up, “Logan, Garth and I have been
informing Señor Beckford as to where we deposited the cumbersome baggage last
night.”

“And just where was that?”  Logan asked, as he sipped
his coffee.

Dolly walked by again, gave Logan a flirtatious smile
then a wink, and left the room.

Ricardo laughed, “Oh, that señora, she likes you young
gringo cowboys.”

Garth hid a grin, as he changed the subject, “Back to
Henry  Adams.  As far as Ricardo and I are concerned, we treated the chap
bloody well, just like a perfect English gentlemen would, that is, once Ricardo
arrived outside the clinic, just as I was hauling old Henry from the back of my
horse.  Our Latino friend here only assisted me.” 

Beckford, raised an eyebrow, as he listened to the two
describe the previous evening’s events.  Ricardo took over the conversation,
“That Doctor O’Brien, he would not even allow either one of us to go into the
clinic with the ‘patient’.  He himself assisted Henry into the clinic, that is,
after he insulted both Garth and me.”

Logan
asked, “Is that
possible?”

“H’mph!”  Garth grunted, then took over the telling,
“Yes, he did bloody well thank us for delivering the patient, then he had the
nerve to say we were……….how did he put it?”  Garth then looked to Ricardo for
help.

Ricardo put on his most hurt, bland expression,
“O’Brien, he said we were…..harassing, that was the word…….harassing his
patient.  His exact words, Señor.”

Logan
chuckled, “You
two?  No!”

Garth added, “We even offered to drop by in the
morning to deliver Henry back to his boarding house, but Doc O’Brien wouldn’t
hear of it.  Said he’d only release the patient to ‘friendlier’ people.  Can
you beat that?  Now who is friendlier than yours truly and my Latino friend
here?”

Beckford raised a hand, “I believe we get your point,
nephew, and thanks for the input.  Though maybe the good doctor would rather
the county Sheriff picked up old Henry.”

“Now that’s a thought.”  Logan said, “Though Henry’s
probably left the sanctuary of the clinic by now anyway, probably the doctor
got tired of him, and made him leave.”  Logan leaned back in his chair,
thinking that Garth and Ricardo were holding back a few facts about the
delivery of the patient to the clinic, though they probably wouldn’t want to
hear more details anyway. 

Beckford was smiling to himself, and thinking, “How
did I manage to raise such a nephew as Garth?”  He made no further comment. 

The day’s plans were discussed, as the rain continued
to fall heavily, spattering against the side window of the room, and splashing
in from the outside entrance as folks continued to burst into the room, in a
hurry to escape the heavy downpour.  Some came through the hotel door from the
lobby, but most burst in off the boardwalk through the other entrance of the
restaurant. 

Instead of letting up, the showers commenced to get
heavier, and now thunder rolled heavily across the turbulent skies, with jagged
streaks of lightening bolts lighting up the whole area, striking repeatedly
somewhere off in the hills. 

This would not be a good day to be on the trail, with
the flooded arroyos and washes, and Logan finally voiced what they all had been
thinking.  “You know, sir,” he began, “these plans we have are good, but they
will still be good when the weather clears up.  It wouldn’t be right to risk a
ride up the trail with all the flooding going on.  Wouldn’t be safe, and we’d
be better off to postpone any travel in this weather.  We wouldn’t gain
anything by getting ourselves stranded out there along the trail somewhere, or
floating around in one of those flooded washes.” 

“You know this country better than I do, Logan.”  Beckford said.  “I was wondering the same thing.  I have never been known to be a
careless man.”

Garth nodded in hesitating agreement, as Ricardo
added, “I’ve seen cattle floating down arroyos a time or two, Señor, and much
as I hate to see another day go by, that those hombres have control of your
property, I believe it would be foolhardy to attempt travel in such weather.” 
He took a puff from his cigar stub, then snuffed it out on a plate, and
continued, “The mountains will be higher ground, but between here and there
will be washes running deep and the lightening is not safe.”

“We shall wait then.”  Lord Beckford decided.  “Let
those scoundrels worry a bit anyway.  I’m sure they know by now that something
is in the wind.”

Logan
joined in, “The
boys up at the line shack have probably figured out that the turn in the
weather would prevent our chance of taking back the ranch today.” 

Beckford said, “I have always preferred the old saying
‘Tomorrow’s another day’.  And that just about sums it up; if the weather clears
up tomorrow, we ride that horse then, or whenever it does.” 

Ricardo chuckled, “Spoken like a true westerner,
amigo.  We shall make a westerner out of you yet, Señor.”