Dark Journey Home (20 page)

Ricardo just shrugged, “Si, and it did not bother me
in the least……though my Maria, she doesn’t like me so much now.  But my lovely
wife will miss me so much while I am gone these few days, that she will welcome
me with open arms when I return to her.”  Ricardo’s expression turned serious
then, as he changed the subject.  “What do you suppose we will run across at
this rancho?”

Logan
thought a
moment, then said, “First, before I make any guesses, we need to check out the
layout and then, like the ramrod said, we break a few mustangs, or our necks,
whichever comes first.”

Ricardo laughed, “Ha, Señor Logan, it has been many a
year since I have tangled with the wild ones, as it has been for you also,
though I am sure that we will give it our best.”  He sighed, then breathed
deeply of the cool morning air, as they rode further, now entering the
foothills, of scrub oak, small pines and wildflowers scattered throughout the
area. 

Logan
gazed off into
the distance, “It’s a beautiful land.”  He said, “Magnificent.  Lots of good
grazing around here.”

“Si, the longhorns seem fat, lazy and contented, from
what I can see from here.”

“According to directions, we must be on Lord
Beckford’s range right now.  It’s a big spread, and covers many square miles.” 
Logan offered. 

The two rode quietly for awhile, enjoying a brisk,
cool breeze, which was now softly blowing from the pine-studded mountain range,
and the horses began a slow, but steady climb to the majestic forest.  After
about an hour’s ride, the trail wove through an ever thickening grove, heavily
overgrown with the tall sweet-smelling pines, then after rounding a bend in the
trail, the forest opened up to present a huge verdant valley, breathtaking in
it’s view.

The two men pulled up on the reins, then slowly
scanned the wondrous scene below.  Numerous buildings came to view, with smoke
pouring from various chimneys, as cook stoves were being tended for morning
meals.  This was truly a working ranch, and from all appearances, an extremely
wealthy one.

“Would you look at that, mi amigo?”  Stated Ricardo,
as he took off his tall sombrero, and slapped it against his thigh, then
slammed it back on his head.  “There must be at least a dozen buildings on the place
and each one the size of a mountain.”

Logan
answered slowly,
“Makes my pa’s horse ranch look like a chicken coop.  And Pa’s spread is
large.”

“Señor Beckford has no idea, mi amigo, no idea at
all.”  This is mucho wealthy spread, no?  This rancho looks more like a small
town, than a rancho.  The buildings, they are magnificent.  Then see the
hacienda, over there to your left, apart from the other buildings.  It would be
fit for royalty, no?” 

“I’m more than impressed, Ricardo.  This is much more
than our friend, Claude, has expected.  What a wondrous place.”  Logan paused, then added; “Now let’s head on in, and see what we can find out.  Just be
extra cautious.  We don’t know just who to trust once we hire on there.”

“Si.  Let’s just hope the chow’s good.  My stomach
tells me, it’s long past chow time.”

Logan
touched his
heels to his horse’s sides, then Ricardo followed.  They began a gradual
descent to the wide picturesque valley below, and to whatever game awaited them
at the ‘triple-B ranch’. 

As they slowly rode into the huge ranch yard, Logan assumed a devil-may-care attitude, and he casually scanned the surrounding area. 
Ricardo only shrugged his shoulders, as he took on the attitude of just a trail
hand looking to hire out for a working man’s wage.  Though a few heads turned,
and nodded as they rode in, most of the attention was on what was happening
inside the corral. 

The entertainment, at the moment, was centered on the
young rednecked bronc buster who had just climbed onto the back of a
not-so-broke-yet black stallion mustang.  The wiry young cowhand, with the
thick wavy blonde hair, had just lost his black Stetson to the dusty ground,
and was having a rough time staying in the saddle.  He was determined to ride
that bronc though and gave his best effort, or so it seemed. 

Well, that black mustang just rolled his bloodshot
eyes, and leaped straight up with all four feet suspended in midair, humping
his sweaty back at the same time, and trying his best to do a sideways
cartwheel, sending the young ambitious cowboy flying through the air, and
landing with a thud in an ungraceful manner onto his Levi-clad backside.  He
quickly rolled over and grabbed his battered Stetson from the dust, and
hightailed it for the nearest rail fence, with the maddened black bundle of
horseflesh following after, nipping at his shirt with strong white teeth, lips
curled back in a threatening manner.

“Hey, what’sa matter, Smokey, you let that tame little
mustang get the best of you?”  One of the onlookers called out as he helped
‘Smokey’ escape over the fence, and from the aggressive teeth of the black
stallion.

“Dang it, Rusty, that’s my third attempt on that wild
stallion.  Thought sure I’d have ‘em tamed this time.  He’ll sure make one hell
of a cow pony, once he gets broke, but he’s sure a determined devil.  Maybe you
can try ‘im later, I’m all in for now.”

Rusty, the older red-haired cowhand said, “Let it go
for a while, Smoke, it’s chow time anyhow, an’ we may not get fed if we don’t
head over there now.  We’re supposed to ride fence today, remember?”

Smokey looked back over the corral fence, as the black
stallion trotted around possibly searching for an escape route.  Then the
blonde-haired cowboy slapped his black hat onto his full head of wavy blonde
hair, and chuckled as he followed the older man across the ranch yard. 

Logan and Ricardo had been sitting on their horses,
quietly watching the display.  Then noticing that most of the onlookers near
the corral fence had left and were ambling on towards what was obviously the
‘chow’ hall as that was where the aroma of coffee and frying bacon was coming
from, they dismounted and began leading their horses towards that building. 

They’d decided to ask someone where the ramrod of the
place was, when the boss himself stepped out from the doorway of the large
building, obviously having just eaten, and was carrying a cup of coffee in his
hand. 

“Howdy.” Logan spoke, as he recognized the cold, hard
countenance of Jinx Holderman, the foreman of the ‘Triple B’.

Obviously no formalities were required for Mr.
‘Full-of-himself’, as Holderman spoke quickly and abruptly, in just about the
meanest tone of voice they’d ever heard.  “If you haven’t had breakfast, chow’s
in that building.”  He pointed behind him, as he growled, “I expected you two
hands earlier than this.  Thought you needed work.  I’ve no time to show you
around now.  Go fill your stomachs, then head on over to the stable and  report
to Chester Burns.  He’ll show you where to stow your gear at the bunkhouse,
then put you to work.  If you don’t like to work, you can leave now.”  Without
waiting for a response from either one of them, he turned gruffly and stalked
away, headed for the large two-story mansion, entered the walled-in courtyard,
then walked toward the large heavy carved door of the entrance. 

Logan
watched his
retreat, and Ricardo said, “That hombre, he has about as much personality as a
soaking wet panther on the prowl.”

“Yeah.”  Logan drawled, “It appears that our ramrod is
one busy man.”

“Si, mi amigo.”  Ricardo answered, “A mucho busy
hombre, though I can think of many more colorful names for the señor, only in Spanish
would I say them though.”

Logan
chuckled, “I’m
sure you could, my friend, though I do speak and understand Spanish
fluently…….just thought I should let you in on that bit of information.  So
feel free any time you want to use some of that colorful language in describing
our boss man.  Just make sure he isn’t within hearing distance, at least until
we find out what we want to know, then, by all means, be my guest.” 

Ricardo stared at Logan, and scratched his head, as he
grinned knowingly, then slapped the huge sombrero back onto his head as they
headed over to the chow building to eat.

As they walked, Logan grinned and said, “The man
really is full of his own importance, isn’t he?”  He slapped Ricardo on the
shoulder, and continued, “Well, the bigger the donkey, the louder it brays.  Let’s
go eat.”

As they stepped through the doorway of the building,
where numerous tables were set up, with long benches at each side, they
immediately noticed the two hands, who had been riding the stagecoach, had just
finished eating and were headed for the doorway.

The two seemed sincere in their greeting, and shook
hands.  The older man, Bart McCain, said, “Say, it’s good to see you two.  I
hope this means that you’ve hired on.”

Logan
nodded, as
Ricardo said, “Si.  Hope the chow’s as good as it smells.”  Then he headed over
to the nearest table, and took a seat on one of the long benches.  Logan remained for a few moments more to talk to Bart, as the other man, Cougar Olson,
nodded and picked up his hat off a hook by the door, and stepped outside.

“Well, I heard this place was hiring so decided to
head out this way.  Always ready to pick up a little extra pay and investigate
new surroundings at the same time.”  Logan slowly drawled, in an offhand
manner.

“You couldn’t have chosen a better outfit. 
Least…….the chow’s good, an’ the pay’s even better.”  Bart said. 

Logan
, taking on an
offhand attitude, said, “Say, that foreman, Holderman…, he seems a bit abrupt. 
Is he a hard one to work for?”

“Jinx?  Nah, he’s okay.  Well, that is, once you get
to know him.”  Bart stopped, and then added, “He just expects a day’s work for
a day’s pay, no more’n any other place would expect.  Only stay loyal to the
brand is all.  That’s all the owner wants too.”

“That a fact?”  Logan raised his eyebrows, took off
his Stetson, and hung it on the nearest hook by the door, then combed his
fingers through his thick black wavy hair, and continued on, “I can surely do
that.  Absolutely.  I’ll be sure to be as loyal to the ‘owner’ of this spread
as can be.  They can surely count on that.”  Logan grinned, and added, “I’m
sure I can speak for my new friend, Ricardo, as well.  Well, nice to see you
again, pard.”

“Same here.”  Bart said, then stepped out through the
door, stood on the porch breathing in the cool mountain air for a moment, then
turned and stared back towards the doorway with a puzzled expression.  Shaking
his graying head, he then ambled on towards the stable to saddle his bronc. 
Cougar Olson was already saddled up and ready to ride, but waited for his friend. 
They then headed out towards the north range to check on the herd. 

Logan
seated himself
across from Ricardo, reached over for a cup, and the pot of coffee, and saw
that it was strong and black, with a touch of alkali in it.  Just the way he
liked it.

Ricardo put on his most impressive thick Spanish
accent.  “I heard what was said, amigo.”  With emphasis he slowly added, “We
most certainly will be loyal to the owner of this fine spread.  Mucho loyal,
no?”  The breakfast was good and they ate their fill. 

<><><> 

Chester Burns, right hand man to the foreman, was a
careful man.  A no-nonsense serious westerner, who didn’t smile, probably never
had, and after showing the two newest hands where to stash their gear in the
bunkhouse, and assigning bunks, he motioned them to follow him to the stable
and began introducing them to about a dozen of the wildest appearing mustangs
they’d ever seen. 

“You two boys can spend the next two days working
together, taming down as many of them ornery cusses, as you can.  Keep tryin’
that mean black stallion over there, though some say it can’t be done.  He’s
put two of our wranglers to bed with sprains awhile back.  If he cain’t be
broke soon, we’ll just shoot ‘im.  The boss, the foreman, Jinx, that is, wants
to shoot ‘im, but the owner, that’s Woody Perkins, now he’d just as soon have
‘im broke.  See what you can do.  The rest of them shouldn’t be too much
trouble.”