Authors: Cherie Shaw
As Logan stepped onto the board walk, loaded down with
bags, he noted the two well-armed men from the rear seat in the stage. They
hadn’t said much on the trip and had only nodded and waved as they walked away,
toting saddlebags and two saddles they had lifted from atop of the stage. The
two were now walking towards the Sheriff’s small building at the far end of the
road.
Logan
would bet the
two were Texas Rangers, hell-bent on a mission. He’d seen enough Rangers in
the past to know one or two when he saw them. Each toted a Winchester rifle
and a six-gun in a worn holster with plenty of ammo in their belts. He figured
each had a silver star in his vest pocket. At times they worked undercover, as
did Logan’s friend, Jake Welby. Watching the two as they entered the Sheriff’s
office brought back old memories for Logan. His thoughts then turned to
Olivia, and he wondered why her attitude towards him had, once again, changed.
He’d never really understood women and probably never would.
As Logan managed to open the door to the hotel, he
heard the sound of pounding hooves in the road, and, looking back, he noted the
Cavalry troop entering town at a gallop with the young blonde Lieutenant now in
the lead, eager eyes front, back straight. Logan began scowling again. “Well,
you dashing young ladies’ man,” he mumbled, “let’s see you figure out her
haughty ways. She’ll stomp on your pretty face, and make you like it.” Logan let the door of the hotel lobby slam shut behind him as he dropped the bags onto the
floor, making enough noise to wake all inhabitants of ‘Boot Hill.’
Walking briskly past Olivia, not looking at her even
though her head turned slightly his way, Logan approached the hotel desk as
Claude was walking away holding three keys. He handed a key to Logan, saying, “Here you are, son, this is for your room. First one at the head of the
stairs.
“Sir, you didn’t have to do that. I would have gotten
my own room.” Logan frowned.
“Nonsense, Logan, don’t be so proud. You can pay for
my dinner then, if you feel the need. Believe me; you have more than helped me,
you and Ricardo both, when you got my ranch back for me. I doubt if I could
have done that without your help.” Claude stated firmly.
“Ricardo and I were glad to help you in any way we
could, sir. You should know that, and, as for dinner, it’s a deal. I’d be
pleased.” Logan answered as he turned and walked toward the stairs, though on
second thought he strode over to retrieve the carpetbags and one small trunk he
had abandoned just inside the door. “I’ll haul these up the stairs.” He said
offhand to Claude, who had started to protest, but Logan was already halfway up
the stairs before he could get the words out.
Claude shook his head, and chuckled as he took
Amelia’s arm in his, Olivia on the other arm, then strode toward the stairway.
“That young man really has it bad.” He leaned and whispered into his wife’s
ear.
“I can’t hear a word you are saying, you old fool.
Speak louder so we all can hear.” Amelia retorted loudly, then giggled.
Olivia pulled away from her uncle’s grasp, and,
clutching the front of her skirt with both hands, began hurriedly climbing the
stairway to the second floor. As she reached the top, Logan was setting the
bags on the floor in front of her room and she gave a very briskly grudging,
“Thank you!” Sticking her nose in the air, she shoved past him, then on into
her room, without her luggage, slamming the door hard behind her.
Logan
hesitated, then
gave a light tap on her door. “Who is it?” She questioned sweetly. However,
Claude had walked over, and said, “I’ll take the bags in, Logan my boy, and
thanks for your help.” Then as Logan nodded and walked away, Claude turned and
called out, “This is your Uncle Claude, Ollie, open the door and I’ll bring in
your luggage.”
“Oh!” Olivia sheepishly opened the door to admit her
uncle, feeling rather foolish and ashamed of the way she was acting. Maybe she
was just tired and needed a good meal. After leaving her bags with her, Claude
left to go to his and Amelia’s room, after making arrangements to escort his
niece to the dining room in one hour.
Olivia wondered again if the young Lieutenant would be
in the dining room at dinner time. She’d seen the Cavalry soldiers riding into
town, and thought again how attractive the young officer was, but then in her
mind, she quietly compared his looks to Logan’s darkly handsome features and
realized at once that had been a mistake. She knew in her heart that there
could never be another to compare to the cowboy.
‘Oh he can be so frustrating at times.’ She inwardly
stormed, as she prepared to change for dinner, wishing that somehow she could
avoid going to the dining room, but she knew there was no chance of that. She
was also very hungry. Wishing she could make amends for her actions, she also
knew that she would be forever doomed to apologizing every time she lost her
temper, if she gave in even once. Uncle Claude always accepted her
independence, so why couldn’t Logan? Even her brother, Garth, thought her
temperament very acceptable and, at times, downright entertaining.
One hour later, Olivia, accompanied by her uncle and
Amelia, descended the stairs. They noticed the young blonde Lieutenant standing
in the lobby. When he spotted Olivia, he rapidly approached, speaking to her
uncle after flashing her a gleaming white, and obviously well-practiced,
smile.
“How are you, sir?” He spoke, reaching out a hand.
“My name is Lieutenant Augustus Harrigan, recent graduate of West Point Military Academy, and presently assigned to Colonel Winters’ Cavalry Troop, whom you
met on the trail.”
“How do you do, Lieutenant.” Ignoring the
outstretched hand, Claude continued to hold onto his wife’s arm, and Olivia’s,
as he continued, “I am Lord Claude Beckford, of London, England, and may I present my wife, Lady Amelia Beckford, and my niece, the Duchess of Beckford
Manor, Olivia Worthington. We are pleased to meet a member of the American
Military.”
Claude’s expression was bland, and bored, as he
immensely enjoyed watching the effect of his statement, on the young
Lieutenant’s face, just as he had planned. The officer’s pained expression was
enhanced with bitter frustration as he stuttered, not knowing whether to
salute, shake hands, bow, or run for the nearest saloon. He chose the latter,
as he backed towards the door, and said, “Oh, I…..wasn’t aware. It’s a
pleasure, sir, and uh…..ladies.” However, with a return of bravery, he moved
forward again, then began a much rehearsed speech, “I was wondering if you
would allow me to escort your lovely daughter…..that is…your niece, to the
dining room, to have dinner with me?” His voice became high-pitched, making it
a question, rather than a statement, as he had planned.
Olivia suddenly wanted to snicker at the officer’s
discomfort, but withheld the temptation. How could she have thought this young
man to be even slightly appealing? Heavens, she actually wished that Logan would show up to rescue her, though she needn’t have worried, as her Uncle Claude
was doing just fine on his own.
She almost laughed out loud, when Lord Beckford spoke
in a rather stiffly, though elegant, manner. “I am extremely sorry, young
chap. I presume you misunderstand my niece’s status. We are meeting the Duchess
Worthington’s betrothed, in the dining room. Lord Wakefield has reserved a
table for us, and we are late, so if you will excuse us. It was a pleasure meeting
you.” He gave a most dignified, reserved nod to Amelia and Olivia, moving them
towards the entrance to the dining room.
Lieutenant Augustus Harrigan, having been trained in
the strictest discipline, saluted then turning on his heel and walked out the
door. After leaving the building, he rigidly moved, as if in a trance, down
the board walk and through the town of Nowhere, stopping only at the Livery
Stable to retrieve his horse, then on to the military camp in the desert
outside of town. Upon his return to camp he spoke to no one.
“Uncle Claude,” Olivia said, as they entered the
dining room, “that wasn’t very nice, but thank you for saving me, though you
did tell a fib. And, Lord Wakefield? Indeed!”
“Oh just a slight fib, Ollie.” Claude’s blue eyes
twinkled, as he added, “Logan actually is waiting in the dining room, with a
table reserved. He is going to buy our dinner, so I merely stretched the truth
a bit. Why can’t you allow your old Uncle Claude a bit of enjoyment, child.
It isn’t often I get to have so much fun.”
Amelia laughed out loud, as Olivia said, “You are not
old, Uncle Claude. Oh well,” she heaved a deep sigh, “Let us find that
reserved table, and ‘Lord’ Wakefield, and go eat.”
Once in the dining room, they approached a large,
white linen-covered table, where Logan was waiting. Setting his coffee cup
down, he arose to pull out a chair for Olivia. Claude seated Amelia.
The waitress had gone all out to prepare a nice
setting, as Logan had requested. Two candles were lit and the table setting
could now compare with any fancy restaurant in any large city in the world.
Logan
was dressed in a
black western style suit, with a white shirt, and a bolo tie that had been braided
from leather strips. His shoulder-length, thick ebony hair had been tied at
the nape of his neck, giving him a dashing appearance. If it hadn’t been for
the black flat-crowned cowboy hat, hanging on a hook behind his chair, she
would have sworn him to be a pirate, lacking only the colorful scarf around his
head. Olivia caught her breath as she sat down, glad that she was wearing her
nicest dinner gown of light blue, matching her eyes, with the antique lace trim
about the neck and sleeves. Her blonde hair had been brushed until it shone,
then styled atop her head to perfection.
Amelia spoke, “My! Logan Wakefield, you must have
bribed that waitress to fix up such a nice table setting, complete with a white
lace tablecloth too.”
“Not really.” He grinned. “I only gave her a long
story of how we have such a long journey ahead and it would be so nice to dine
in style before the long trek across mountains, desert, and prairie. I told
her that we were camped outside of town in a covered wagon, actually a prairie
schooner, and that you ladies will be cooking wild meat over a campfire, from
now on, and we had just barely enough supplies to get us to where we will
homestead.” His green eyes glittered with mischief, as he spoke so
innocently.
“Oh, Logan, really.” Olivia laughed, and it felt
good.
“I don’t believe a word of that story, young man.”
Amelia stated firmly, as her husband chuckled.
“Actually,” Logan grinned, as he looked at Olivia, “I
told her that I would like a nice setting to go with an apology I would be
giving to a lovely lady, for something I must have said wrong, but haven’t the
slightest idea just what it was. I’m sorry, Olivia. For whatever it was, I
apologize.” His smile, though genuine, was designed to penetrate the strongest
of feminine resistance.
“Oh, my…..I….I guess, well of course, Logan, I accept your apology. I honestly can’t remember just what it was either, so it
must not have been all that important. I apologize also, though I don’t know
why I……well, anyway….” The waitress walked up to take their orders, saving
Olivia from further explaining. She had never in her life, apologized to any
man, what in the world was wrong with her? She couldn’t even remember what she
had been so upset about. Oh, she missed Maria. Her Spanish friend had such a
way with words. She even missed the hot Mexican fare she whipped up in the
kitchen.
After the waitress had gone from the room, Olivia
looked over at Logan, and asked, “By the way, just what is a covered wagon?”
He looked her right in the eye, and answered with a
straight face, “It’s a Prairie Schooner, usually anyway.” Though, after he
stopped laughing, he knew by her expression, that he’d better explain, and by the
time he finished seriously telling her all about the pioneers, who were
migrating to the west, the waitress had returned carrying trays of steaming hot
food, which was a welcome improvement over the last time they’d been there, and
had been offered hash or hash and eggs, or hash, eggs, and gravy. This was a
different waitress. According to the menu, there must be a new cook in the
kitchen also.
The food had been well prepared, roast chicken, gravy,
string beans, potatoes, and the most delicious apple pie. As usual, Logan
Wakefield had made a lasting impression on the middle-aged waitress, and as he
was still living up to his reputation of leaving a string of broken hearts
along the western trails, the town of Nowhere would be no exception. He left
more than a sufficient tip, and, with a devilish grin, left the waitress blushing
and offering a very acceptable breakfast for the next morning. Olivia and
Amelia both groaned, as they left the dining room, when they heard the waitress
give a deep sigh.