Authors: Cherie Shaw
Logan
advised Claude
that he needed to purchase some western wear, if he was going to ride
horseback, as the nice tailored suit that he was wearing, would be shredded
within miles, and would be too hot to ride in anyway. He said that he and
Ricardo had already gotten what they needed to wear, though he would return to
the store and show him what he needed to get. As for Logan and Ricardo, it
would be good to get back into western garb once more, and also see the
countryside from between the ears of a good western horse again too. Logan, for one, was tired of dressing fashionable in eastern suits, though they sure beat
the rags he had been forced to wear while on the ‘Red Dragon’. But now he
needed to be himself again, and in the morning when they rode out, he would
be.
Olivia had just finished purchasing a few personal
items for the trip by stage, and was carrying her bundles toward the door, when
her uncle came in followed by Logan. Her heart skipped a beat, when the tall
green-eyed rogue nodded to her. She covered up quickly enough with one of her
haughty expressions, and a toss of her pretty golden-blonde head, then turned,
innocently enough, to her uncle and smiled. “I’m quite finished, Uncle, and
will be returning to my room. Are you going to be long?” She asked.
“Why don’t you wait here in the store, Ollie, then
we’ll walk you back when we’ve finished here. I won’t be but a few minutes.”
Claude said.
“I’ll be fine, Uncle, and I’m a little tired so I’ll
go on ahead.” She answered.
“Alright, Niece.” He knew it would do no good to
argue with the strong-minded girl.
Olivia had seen the sudden familiar sparkle in Logan’s deep green eyes as he looked at her, and she needed to get out of there.
She walked quickly to the door, but Logan was ahead of
her, and he opened the door for her then grinned as she, head tilted high,
walked through, then out into the street, looking straight ahead.
There was a lot of activity along the main street of
the town, horses, cowhands, buckboards being loaded with supplies, and several
women with children in tow. The women were mostly dressed in homemade gowns,
made from homespun material. Though a few ladies were well-dressed, probably
wives of the business owners in town. Most of the women though wore large sun
bonnets, to shade their faces from the hot Texas sun.
Olivia wore a perky little bonnet, that did nothing to
shut out the glare of the sun, but it was for show only, and matched her pretty
blue dress.
A few of the ladies walking by, nodded to her, and she
smiled back. A couple of cowboys tipped their tall western hats, though more
than a few just openly stared at her, as she walked quickly to her hotel,
thinking that maybe she’d been a bit impulsive to not wait for her uncle to
walk her back.
This was a strange town, and a strange country, and
she didn’t really know what to make of it all, or how to react. She chose to
head for the safety of her room.
<><><>
Logan
awoke early the
next morning, just as the sun was rising in the east. He quickly bathed, then
shaved off his twenty-four hour growth of dark whiskers. Donning one of the
two new pairs of jeans he’d purchased, he then brushed and combed back his
shoulder-length head of thick black hair, then slipped on the new plaid dark
blue cotton shirt, he’d purchased at the mercantile the day before.
Logan had gotten his hair trimmed back in New York,
though it had grown fast, and was back down to his broad shoulders already, but
there had been no time for a haircut here in the small out of the way place of
Nowhere, so that would just have to wait until they reached their destination.
He now reached down inside the saddlebags he’d packed
the night before, and drew out the new colt .45 caliber six-gun he’d stashed in
there the night before, spun the cylinder to be sure it was fully loaded, then
slipped it into the holster on his right hip, tying down the thong around his
thigh. He’d buckled on the leather gun-belt out of habit, right after he’d
dressed. Old habits never die, even after so many years.
After pulling on a pair of new black cowhide boots, Logan
snatched up the saddlebags, one small satchel, and a bedroll, that he’d
purchased, for just in case. Then after donning the black felt flat-brimmed Stetson
hat, he opened the door of his hotel room, turned to take one last look around,
making sure he wasn’t over-looking anything, and stepped out into the hallway,
colliding right into the softest bundle of femininity that he’d ever felt.
Logan
felt a jolt as
he caught Olivia in his arms, dropping his valise and bedroll in the process.
“Oh, my,” She stuttered, trying to collect her balance
and her nerves at the same time, as she felt strong muscular arms holding her.
Then she noticed the western garb, and her heart fluttered dangerously. Her
instant reaction was that now this was truly the type of western hero those
dime novels were written about. That is, until she looked up into that
grinning devilish green-eyed silly expression on his dark face.
“Oh, it’s you!” She exclaimed, flustered. “Take your
hands off of me immediately.”
“I was only trying to keep you from falling.” He
spoke to her ever so softly, with that deep soothing voice of his. “And I
apologize for being in your way. It won’t happen again.” He let go of her
like he would a hot coal from the fire, then bent to retrieve his valise and
bedroll.
Claude had just stepped out of the room from across
the hall, and called to her. “Are you alright, Olivia?” He asked.
“Yes…..yes, of course, Uncle Claude. We….we, just
collided. That’s all. No harm done.” She struggled to regain her poise.
Olivia didn’t notice the grin that spread across her
uncle’s face. Claude had never seen his niece so unnerved by a man before, and
it was quite a sight.
Olivia did an about face, and took a second look at
her uncle. Heavens, the old fool was dressed the same way as that ‘cowboy’ Logan person. She’d have to find out what that was all about. All he lacked was a
‘dangerous-looking’ weapon on his hip. “Oh well.” she thought to herself,
“Boys will be boys. Will men never grow up?”
When they had taken the stairs to the lobby, she saw
that Ricardo was dressed even worse. He had on tight black shiny pants, flared
at the hemline, with some kind of silver-toned round metal decorations running
down both sides, she found out later on that those decorations were called ‘conchos’
and were widely used in Mexico, and parts of the southwest territory. He also
had on decorative black boots, a black shirt, and wore a huge tall black
sombrero which had a drawstring under the chin. The perfect ‘caballero’. He
wore a wide grin, and sported a low-hanging gun belt with some kind of a weapon
in the holster, which was tied down of course, as Logan’s was.
Maria however, appeared proud of her vaquero, and she
also was dressed different, wearing a beautiful white decorative blouse,
gathered at the round neckline and sleeves, and a full gathered aqua-colored
skirt. Maria was still a very beautiful, vivacious woman, even at her age, and
her dark eyes sparkled with pride, as she stood next to Ricardo looking up
adoringly at him.
“Oh well,” Olivia thought, “to each his own.” Though
she did think the men looked rather ridiculously foolish, she figured maybe
this was just all new to her, and she just wasn’t used to the ways of the west.
The stage was late. It was ten-o’clock and it just
now was rocking and rolling into town. No excuses were made, just the usual
changing of the team to fresh horses, then loading the luggage on top of the
conveyance. The be-whiskered, weather-beaten old driver, Joe Carlson, had to
check all the wheels to make sure they weren’t about to fall off the old
vehicle, then they were ready to admit the passengers to the hot interior.
Olivia and Claude found out what ‘riding shotgun’
meant. No need for Ricardo to ride ‘such’. There was one tough-looking
hombre, forty-ish, who sat next to the driver. The man was a brute, huge
shoulders, eagle-eyed, and mean-looking. He had a no-nonsense way about him
that spoke of ‘don’t mess with me’. He also carried a very serious–looking Winchester rifle, as well as a side-arm. If that wasn’t enough, he had some kind of knife
in a holster strapped to his left leg. The driver referred to him as ‘Wolf’.
Well, the name did fit him with his gray curly sideburns and slanted red-rimmed
black eyes.
Olivia certainly felt well-protected now, so why in
the world were Logan and Ricardo armed? That was a puzzle. Was this dangerous
country after all?
There were three other passengers, and when they first
climbed into the coach, Claude decided to ride inside with Olivia and Maria for
awhile, so he tied the black mount to the back of the stage, then climbed up
into the coach taking the seat across from Olivia. Maria sat next to her.
There were three seats, two people per seat.
As the stage took off swaying and creaking, Olivia
looked out of the window to see where Logan and Ricardo were riding, but Maria
said, “Don’t worry, señorita. My Ricardo, he would not desert us. I believe
they rode on ahead.”
“Oh, no, Maria, I wasn’t worried, really.”
The three other travelers were two polite, though
rugged looking, young cowhands, who sat on the rear seat, and one lady, who sat
next to Claude, facing Maria and Olivia, who both sat in the middle seat, and
had a good view out the side window.
Olivia pointed out some distant mountains, and said,
“Mercy, I have never seen mountains that high. Are we going over those?”
Maria answered, “No, no, those are miles and miles to
the west, and are much farther away, and higher than they appear. There are
beautiful tall pine trees, and cool running streams and lakes in those
mountains.”
“Oh, that’s hard to believe, with such heat and dry
desert growth where we are.”
“Oh yes, Señorita Olivia. It is cool up there, but
distance fools you here in the west, much different from back east. But I love
it here. This country is where life is.”
Olivia didn’t know whether to believe the Spanish
woman or not, but didn’t disagree.
Then Maria continued talking, “We aren’t going towards
the mountains though, they are to the west, and we are going southwest.
Ricardo, he and Logan talked, and they know the way to this rancho of your
uncle’s, and it is in much prettier land than what you have seen so far. We
will be entering into cattle country and towns where there is much activity..
“Believe me, Señorita, you will love it here, and may
never wish to leave Texas.”
Olivia seriously doubted that too, but again didn’t
answer.
Claude had been listening to the conversation, and now
joined in. “Yes, Ollie, Ricardo told me as much. The scenery does get
better. He said that where my ranch is located, is in the center of a verdant
valley, rich with rolling hills, trees, and streams. Not in the mountains
though, but on a higher plain than where we are now.
“Logan also said that if the ranch is located where he
believes it to be, that it probably is a profitable venture, and worth holding
on to.”
Olivia was interested in Logan’s opinion. Well, she
guessed he was supposed to be some sort of ‘guide’ for them on this venture
anyway.
The lady who sat next to Claude, was dressed a bit
gaudy, and wore lots of obviously fake jewelry, and a bit too much theatrical
makeup. Maybe she was an actress, who knows? She had been noticeably taking
in the whole conversation, and now turned to Claude, saying, “You own a ranch?
Oh my, I just love ranchers. They are real he-men.”
Olivia smiled to herself, and figured the woman hadn’t
noticed Claude’s definite British accent. She guessed the western garb he wore
fooled the woman.
Olivia stared out the window, while she allowed her
uncle to try to squirm out of the strange woman’s attentive questions.
Logan and Ricardo came into sight. They had been
riding ahead of the stage, though now the team of plodding horses, pulling the
creaking stage, were catching up to them.