An Uninvited Bride on his Doorstep by Ava Winters
Chapter Twenty
Logan heard the crack of rifle fire and ducked behind their overturned wagon. Dust and splinters flew around him as the outlaws fired volley after volley at his family.
He turned to his father, who crouched next to him. “There’s too many, Pa!”
Dale Foley peered through a crack in the wagon’s floorboard. “No, not too many. Six, maybe seven. All firing at once, too. When they stop to reload, we’ll take aim and fire at anyone who pokes his head out.”
Logan nodded and looked around at his mother and brothers. Gregory’s face was stoic, but tears ran down Jay’s face. Logan’s heart melted for the boy. A moment later, rage filled him. How dare these outlaws terrorize his family? His brother shouldn’t have to cower in fear for his life because a few worthless bandits wanted his family’s money.
Well, they would get what was coming to them. All Logan had to do was wait.
He waited but the fire didn’t let up. How many rounds did their rifles carry?
He heard a cry and turned to see his mother collapse, blood spraying from her chest. He leapt up to run to her, but a hail of bullets shattered the boards around him, and he dove back for cover. He turned to his father only to find him dead as well.
This wasn’t right.
Gregory let out a choking gasp and collapsed, clutching his stomach.
Logan tried once more to move, but the storm of rife fire forced him to remain where he was. Why hadn’t they stopped to reload? This wasn’t right. None of it was right. This wasn’t what happened.
He looked at Jay. The boy’s eyes were glassy with fear. “Logan,” he whispered. Then his eyes flew wide. His mouth dropped open in a perfect O. He looked slowly down at his shirt, where a red stain appeared just below his right shoulder. He looked back up at Logan. “Logan,” he whispered again. Then he fell.
“Jay!” Logan called. He ran to his brother’s side. Miraculously, he managed to avoid the gunfire erupting all around him. He dropped to the ground next to Jay, his vision swimming with tears. He brushed Jay’s hair out of his face. “It’s okay, Jay,” he lied. “I’m going to get us out of here. Don’t you fret.”
Jay, the focus slowly fading from his eyes, only looked at him and continued to whisper, “Logan … Logan …”
***
“Logan!”
Logan’s eyes flew open. He sat up, gasping, and looked wildly around him. From a distance, he could still hear the outlaw’s rifles. His brow furrowed. Why were they so far away? And where was he? He glanced around at the wooden furniture and the wool curtains that covered the bedroom’s window. Gregory and Jay were there but they were different … older.
“Logan, are you hearing me?”
Jay’s voice snapped Logan fully awake. He was in his bedroom at the Foley Ranch. It was two years later, and his brothers Gregory and Jay were alive because they survived the outlaw attack that killed their parents.
“What’s going on?” Logan demanded.
“The horses!” Jay shouted. “They’re being rustled.”
Logan’s blood froze. He leapt out of bed and grabbed his gun belt, quickly tying it around his nightclothes. “Gregory, rouse Darrell and the others.” He strode quickly to the doorway and began putting on his boots.
“They’re already there,” Jay replied. “Darrell sent me for you.”
“How many?” Logan asked. He reached above the doorjamb for his rifle. When it wasn’t there, he panicked for a moment, then remembered he moved it to the parlor when Winona was sleeping in his room. He swore and strode for the living room. “How many?” he called behind his back to Gregory and Jay.
He reached the parlor and grabbed his rifle from its hook above the mantel. He checked to ensure it was loaded then grabbed a handful of shells from the box on the mantel. He looked up where his brothers waited anxiously. “How many?” He repeated again.
Gregory opened his mouth to reply but stopped when the door to their parent’s room opened and Winona walked out. “Logan? What’s going on?” she asked. Worry etched her lovely features and in the midst of his fear, Logan felt a strange longing to wrap her in his arms and tell her everything was going to be okay.
He didn’t have time to do that, so he only said. “The horses are being rustled. We’re going to stop them. Blast it, how many?”
“I don’t know,” Gregory finally answered. “Twenty, maybe thirty.”
Logan swore. He employed two dozen hands, not including Darrell. Including himself and his brothers, and assuming Gregory was correct, that meant he could meet the rustlers with equal force. He didn’t like that, but it was better than being outnumbered. He shouldered his rifle and walked toward the door.
His brothers followed him, and Logan saw they’d brought him a horse. That was good thinking. He wouldn’t have to stop by the stables for one. He lifted one foot into the stirrup and was about to swing into the saddle when Winona gripped his arm.
He looked at her. Her eyes were wide with fear. “Be careful, Logan,” she said.
“I will,” he promised. Then he swung into the saddle and rode off after his brothers.
His brothers led him to the west field. As they approached, Logan could see the bursts of gunfire in the distance. He spurred his horse and caught up to his brothers. “Which side of the battle are the rustlers?” he called.
Jay pointed to the right and Logan called. “Follow me! We’re going to try to flank them!”
His brothers nodded consent. Logan veered to the right, riding parallel to the battle for a minute before swinging back west. He led them behind a small rise that would shield them from stray fire and hopefully allow them to get the drop on the rustlers.
When they reached the rise, Logan pulled to a stop. He dismounted and ran to the edge of the rise, dropping to his elbows just before cresting the top. His brothers dropped down on either side of him, each carrying their own rifles. Logan surveyed the battle ahead.
It wasn’t going well. From their vantage point atop the rise, Logan couldn’t see his own hands, but the rustlers were grinning triumphantly, and the herd was slowly but surely moving toward the edge of the ranch.
Logan brought his rifle to bear, aiming at the nearest outlaw, perhaps fifty yards. His brothers aimed their own rifles, sighting carefully at the rustlers. Logan waited until the outlaw slowed his horse, then fired. The man dropped and lay unmoving. An instant later, his brothers fired. One more outlaw fell from his horse. The second round felled an outlaw’s horse. It fell, taking its rider with it. The rustler screamed in pain as his leg was crushed under the animal. The remaining rustlers looked around wildly, not knowing where the shots came from. One of them dropped, presumably felled by one of Logan’s hands, and the others turned back to the battle.
Logan smoothly chambered another round and fired, catching another outlaw. Another fell, then another as his brothers’ rounds found their home. The outlaws turned to the rise. One pointed in their direction and shouted before a spray of blood erupted from his chest. He clutched the wound and fell as the other rustlers raised their weapons toward the brothers.
Before they could fire, two of them fell, victims of the ranch hands’ shooting. The others turned uncertainly between the two groups, allowing Logan and his brothers time to shoot three more.
Their numbers suddenly decimated, the remaining rustlers drove the herd forward. The spooked animals stampeded. Several of the animals trampled the outlaw stuck under his horse. The man released an earsplitting cry then fell silent. Logan realized with a sinking feeling that any of his hands unable to avoid the stampeding herd had likely suffered the same gruesome fate.
He and his brothers ran back to their horses. They quickly mounted and galloped toward the fleeing rustlers. As they approached, Logan saw approximately half the herd break off from the others. A moment later, he saw Darrell and several of the hands firing into the fleeing rustlers. He noticed with grim satisfaction that several more of the outlaws fell.
The rest of the herd crashed into the fence that marked the border of the ranch. The stampede tore a long section of fence away and the surviving rustlers drove the herd onward into the wilderness.
They reached the hands a few seconds later. Darrell smiled grimly at Logan. “Much obliged to you, Logan” he said. “They’d have had us dead to rights if you boys hadn’t shown up.”
“How many did we lose?” Logan asked.
“Gomez and Henry went down at the beginning. Charlie and Parker are gone, so’s Curly and Frazier. Luke’s still alive but he’s in a bad way. He won’t make it through the night.”
Logan felt as though the wind were knocked out of him. Seven men dead. He knew all of them. They were good men, loyal and capable. Gomez and Henry had worked at the ranch nearly as long as Darrell. Logan’s stomach turned as he thought of Gomez’s wife and children. They were likely waiting anxiously at home, praying, like Winona, for the safe return of their loved one.
Logan sighed heavily and swore. He took his hat off and threw it to the ground, swearing again. He looked around at the others. Gregory and Jay looked sick. They stared into space, their eyes glazed. Logan didn’t blame them. Like him, they’d lost friends tonight.
Darrell lowered his head, his shoulders slumped. The other hands held similar postures. Logan’s heart went out to them. They deserved better than this. Almost immediately, anger filled his chest. Those outlaws would pay. They would get what’s coming to them.
“Get the rest of the horses into the corrals. We’ll have to hold them there overnight. We’ll rebuild the fence in the morning.”
“What about the bodies?” Darrell asked.
“Take ours back to the ranch and lay them in the courtyard. Send someone to town for the sheriff.”
“And the outlaws?”
“Leave them,” Logan spat. “We’ll burn them later.”
“We can’t wait,” Gregory said.
“What?”
“If we leave them, they’ll attract wolves and cougars. We have to burn them tonight. The horses too.”
Logan swore. Gregory was right. “All right. Gregory, take five men and begin gathering the outlaws and dead horses for burning. Darrell, take eight more and get those horses into the corral. Jay, you and I and the other hands are going to bring our men back to the ranch and wait for the sheriff.”
Everyone separated and got to work. Logan and Jay rode silently back to the ranch with the five remaining hands. Each man led a horse with a body draped over the top. Logan felt his anger rise the closer they got to the ranch.
Winona was waiting outside, pacing the courtyard anxiously. When she saw them, she ran to meet them, throwing her arms around Logan as soon as he dismounted. “Oh, Logan!” she cried. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re safe!”
He held her tightly, closing his eyes and savoring her warmth against him. He allowed himself only a moment of comfort before pulling away. Winona looked at the others. Her eyes widened when she saw the bodies. “Oh Logan,” she whispered.
Logan nodded. “Seven men dead. I’m going to send for the sheriff. Can you bring some linens out for the bodies?
“Of course,” she said, welling with tears. “Oh, Logan.”
He nodded, a lump forming in his throat. “It’s okay now. The rustlers are gone.”
Winona left for the linens. Logan sent Jackson into town for the sheriff and waited for Winona. When she returned, he, Jay, and the other hands gently lowered the bodies of their friends onto the linen sheets.
When they finished, Logan sent the other hands to help Gregory and turned to Jay. He meant to offer some words of encouragement but stopped when he saw his brother’s expression. The younger man glared at Logan, his lips twisted in a snarl.
“This is your fault!” he shouted.
“Jay!” Winona cried, shocked.
“What in blazes are you talking about?” Logan asked incredulously. “My fault?”
“If you had listened to me, we would be a cattle ranch right now, not a horse ranch. We wouldn’t be a threat to anyone, and no one would try to rustle us!”
“What are you talking about?” Logan repeated. “You think rustlers only rustle horses? We’d be in the same damned position whether we bred horses, cattle or elephants!”
“Logan!” Winona cried, shocked at his vulgarity.
“Yeah? And who’s coming after our cattle business?” Jay pressed. “We’re the smallest ranch in a sea of horse ranches a hundred miles square and you won’t take advantage of the opportunity to be the only cattle ranch.”
“Blast it, Jay, people died tonight. Now’s not the time to argue about the cattle again.”
“That so?” Jay said. “It never is the time, is it? Why would I ever get to have a say in things?”
“Grow up, Jay,” Logan spat.
Jay’s face flamed. He strode toward Logan, hands balled into fists.
Logan’s eyes narrowed. “You raise your hands to me you best be prepared to use them,” he warned.
Winona stepped in between them, placing her hands firmly on their chests. “Stop it! Both of you!” she snapped. “You’re both acting like children!”
The two brothers stopped moving but continued to stare balefully at each other. Winona looked from one to the other, pleading in her eyes. “Boys, please. We can get through this. The sheriff will organize a posse. I’ll talk to my father. He’ll help. Rustlers are a threat to him too. We’ll find the men who did this to us.”
Her voice softened. “We’ve already come through so much together as a family. We can survive this, too.”
“Oh please,” Jay interrupted. “Family? We’re not a family. My brothers and I aren’t even family. You’re just property.”
Winona recoiled as though slapped. Before he could stop himself, Logan backhanded Jay hard. The younger man fell to the ground. Winona stood in front of Logan and hissed, “Logan, you stop it this instant!”
Jay sat up slowly, chuckling to himself. He smiled at Logan, hate filling his eyes. A trickle of blood ran down his chin. “Logan never told you how he ended up marrying you, did he?”
Winona stepped back, confused. “What …?”
Logan’s eyes widened. He flashed a warning glance at his brother, but Jay only grinned evilly and said, “He didn’t tell you how he won you?”
“Won me?” Winona said. “What are you saying, Jay?”
“He won you in a game of jackstraws.”
Winona glanced sharply at Logan. “Logan?” she whispered.
“That’s right,” Jay continued. “He didn’t even want to marry you until Gregory and I showed an interest. Then he was all for the game. Just barely beat me, too. Guess he didn’t mind the thought of a pretty little wife after all.”
“Jay, watch your mouth,” Logan said.
He reached for Winona, but she pulled away and walked backwards, shock and horror in her eyes. “Is this true?” she asked.
Logan didn’t respond immediately. Finally, he said, “It was Jay’s idea.”
Winona doubled over, gasping with shock.
“Winona,” Logan said. He strode toward her. “Please—”
“Don’t you touch me!” she hissed. She spun on her heel and strode swiftly to the house.
Logan watched her leave. Jay laughed into the dirt next to him, but Logan felt no anger, only numbness.