An Uninvited Bride on his Doorstep by Ava Winters
Chapter Twenty-Seven
A memory stirred in Logan’s mind. He remembered his father taking him to town when he was a boy. A store under construction had a false front created, a tall front with gables that didn’t represent the architecture of the squat, single-story rectangle of the actual building behind it. The false front even had windows with drapes and a wooden box behind the window. His father said the box was to keep it from being obvious the front was false.
At the time, Logan thought the false front was a silly thing, something he couldn’t understand at all. Why would someone want to pretend to be something other than they were? Why would someone want to pretend a store was something other than it was? His father explained the façades were something that would make the store seem established, more than it was, so people would feel more confident about shopping there.
Since people came from larger towns and cities back East, they were used to seeing larger buildings and nicer decorations. It made people comfortable and in most of the towns in the west, when stores became successful, they would move to larger buildings that didn’t need a façade to be grandiose. Even with that understanding, Logan hadn’t been able to get past the idea of a customer stepping into the store and realizing the outside was all a lie.
The memory came to him because he stood on the roof of Smythe’s Haberdashery, a one-story building. The false front came up eight feet above the roof itself. The building was joined to another, sharing a wall. The second store, a seamstress shop that had changed hands four times since Logan first noticed it as a child, had a false front as well, and the space between the false fronts provided perfect cover from which Logan could observe the church.
His father had been wrong. Smythe’s Haberdashery was very successful, successful enough the general store stopped selling hats, belts, suspenders and ties, and left those products to Smythe’s. The building still wore a false front, though. Logan imagined false fronts eventually grew so identifiable with a store that changing them seemed an unthinkable thing to do. The part that he still didn’t understand, though, was how a man could step right in and buy a bolo tie or how a woman could step right in and buy a feathered hat just like those worn in Paris. How could they do that and not immediately be put off by the false front?
He supposed he understood the recalcitrance of the folks in town to act immediately against Koch. When his false front was revealed, there were still consequences to consider—consequences that had the potential to take food from tables or livelihoods from families. They’d come around, though, once they’d become fully convinced of just how false the Koch front was.
On the other hand, the process required also tearing down an altogether different false front, the one Heath constructed for Logan’s family name and then tore down in front of the town.
He thought about how free he felt now, how the shame of his family history was gone, or if not gone yet definitely on its way to being gone. He thought about how powerfully that dark cloud had followed him around, had followed his entire family. Now, there was brightness upon them, and it was love for Winona that made it happen. Not only Logan’s love for her but her father’s love, stronger than his pride and shame, such that he was willing to confess and set things right.
To think all of it—what happened with his family as well as what happened at this very moment—came from greed. It made what the preachers said about love and money and the root of evil make a great deal more sense. Positioned on the roof because of the excellent but concealed view of the church it offered, Logan looked down and saw preparations for the wedding.
Ten guards. Logan knew there were ten guards outside of the church because he’d counted them almost a dozen times by now.
It occurred to him the Koch family was brazen in its behavior. They were so confident in their façade, their false front, that they could put armed guards in front of a church without bothering to think about how it would look. Of course, over the years they’d developed the front in such a way that people in town would likely make excuses, essentially thinking if the Koch family put guards in front of the church there had to be an important reason.
Logan imagined there were plenty who would just assume future weddings ought to have guards as well. Now, all of that façade was falling apart, and the Koch truth was revealed to everyone, or if not to everyone, to enough that everyone would soon see it.
The sight of an approaching stagecoach immediately drew him from his musings and Logan watched as it pulled in front of the church. Two people emerged but the angle and the distance made it impossible to be certain of them.
But he felt certain nonetheless that one of the two was Winona, the woman he loved.
Loved.
Absolutely. There was no way for Logan to deny that now. It became clear the moment she was taken from him. The clarity settled on him then and solidified now. He loved Winona more than he loved himself, and she was in the clutches of a madman. He felt energetic as rage filled him—anger mingled with a protective urge that was almost panic-inducing in its desperation.
He’d spent days in agony fighting to keep himself from charging the Koch ranch alone. Now, the sight of what had to be Winona forced to participate in this farce fueled even greater anger, greater panic and greater agony. He stood without thinking and then crouched again behind cover. The best shot he had was to follow the plan, he reminded himself.
Logan heard the long, low whistle from Gregory. The men were gathered. He scrambled from the roof down the back and to the ground where the groups now emerged. He nodded to Gregory and Heath and then rushed around the side of the building. Things would have to move very quickly now. He moved toward the front of the building and then into the high brush in the vacant lot next to it.
He ducked back on Willow Lane and ran about fifty yards away from the church before crossing the street, passing between the druggist’s shop and a vacant home and into the trees beyond. From there, he ran toward Main Street, emerging about a hundred yards from the church. Nobody appeared to be looking his direction, so he rushed across the street and into the brush on the other side.
He hurried as fast as he dared until he was behind the church, confident he was undetected. A lone guard seemed bored, leaning against the back porch rail, rifle slack at his side. Logan rushed up as silently as he could and a blow from his pistol knocked the man to the ground, unconscious. Thankfully his rifle slid through the railings and landed with a dull, quiet thud on the ground instead of the sharp clatter that might have happened had it landed on the porch.
He took a moment to breathe. Four minutes, maybe five had passed, he thought, from the time he left the others. Everything moved quickly, according to plan. Things were proceeding exactly as they should, and he felt a surge of triumph as he climbed onto the porch and threw the door open. In a moment, Winona would see he was there.
But Winona was not there. Nor was Jude.
A trap.
Logan’s heart sank as he saw the men, smiling wickedly and triumphantly at him, guns drawn. There were two of them. He could almost feel the barrel of a pistol one of them held against the preacher’s temple. The other said, “If you ever want to see you pretty little wife alive again, you’re coming with me.”
“Coming where?” Logan asked. It seemed to him his voice came from somewhere other than his mouth.
“We’re going to Mr. Koch’s ranch, just you and me, and you’re not going to give me no trouble at all because you love that little wife of yours and you don’t want nothing to happen to her.” There were a great many things about the situation worthy of hate, but Logan believed he hated most of all that the man was right.
Certainly, there was a great deal of frustration about the situation, but the smugness in the man’s expression really grated on him. It grated enough that Logan had to remind himself of the stakes involved as he holstered his gun.
The gun remained in his holster as he exited the rear of the church along with the man with the smug smile. He found that surprising. He found it even more surprising that the man didn’t take it from him when they mounted horses hitched at the edge of the church and set off toward the Koch ranch.
As they rode, Logan found his hand moving time and time again toward his holster only to stop and return to the reins when he thought about the man’s words. The effect was terribly distracting and more than just a little bit frustrating. It added to the anger, specifically to the anger at the smugness of the bastard who’d tricked him or, at least, been the voice of the trick.
The journey to the Koch ranch seemed particularly strange. On one level, it seemed to take forever. It seemed as though time slowed and for some reason, despite the danger of his current state, Logan felt like he had to get to Winona immediately. On another level, though, it seemed as though no time passed at all before they passed guards posted at the courtyard of the Koch farmhouse. They called the two to a stop and one said, “Why the hell didn’t you disarm him?” as he reached up and removed Logan’s revolver from his holster.
“He’s been a good boy,” the other man said. “He knows what happens if he’s not.”
“All the same, you should’ve disarmed him.”
“Why don’t you stand your post and shut up,” the man said. To Logan he said, “Come with me and keep being a good little boy.” Logan wanted to punch the man. He wanted it more than he could recall ever wanting anything, but the emptiness in his holster had an effect. The precariousness of the situation grew stronger. The man led him right to the front porch of the ranch house and a moment later led him into the house.
The moment he stepped inside; he saw Winona. She sat on a high-backed chair, the kind very much in fashion among the wealthy at present. Beside her stood Sterling Koch, who had his hand on her shoulder. From the look on her face and the way her shoulder was slightly depressed, Logan could tell he held her down. “Let her go, Koch,” Logan growled.
Winona breathed out, “Logan!” and the hope in her voice might have been the most encouraging thing Logan had ever heard.
“Glad you could join us, Logan,” Jude said. Logan turned and saw him with two other men. Jude said, “You know, every man has a price, Logan. This here’s Judge Petticock. I know, it’s a funny name but he’s a judge and he’s going to help us out with your annulment.” He gestured to the other man, “and this here is the Right Reverend Arthur Pent. He’s here to marry me and Winona.”
Logan looked at Winona, looking her up and down quickly. She nodded slightly and Logan realized she knew he wanted to know if she was okay, and she’d responded. Neither of them had to use words to make that clear.
He loved her.
He loved her and he’d do anything for her. It was that simple.
“You should be ashamed of yourself,” he said.
“Save it, young man,” Sterling Koch said. “You’re beaten. Just accept it and get it over with.”
“No, Pa,” Jude said. “I’d love to hear this trash tell me how ashamed I ought to be.”
“I’m not talking to you, Jude,” Logan said. He looked at the judge and shook his head. “You took an oath before God to be honorable and just.” He looked at the priest. “And you took an oath to God. I seem to recall something in the Good Book about it being better not to make a vow to God than to make it and fail to live up to it.” He saw the expression on both faces change. There was shame. Logan doubted there was enough to make a difference, though.
“You know, you’re right,” Jude said. “And I don’t want to be responsible for them breaking their vows. You did me a real favor here. Winona won’t need an annulment at all. Why bother with an annulment if she’s a widow?” he laughed as he leveled his pistol at Logan, and Logan realized dying for Winona was something he was willing to do.
Gunfire sounded suddenly from outside, though. Jude was very clearly startled, and Logan ducked behind a settee as the man fired. He heard the shot impact the wall. Outside someone screamed in a panicked voice, “Mr. Koch! There’s too many! Mr. Koch!”
“The whole town’s against you now, Sterling,” Logan said. “It’s all over. You’re beaten, old man. Just accept it and get it over with.”
He peeked from the side of the settee and cursed as he saw Jude pulling Winona away. He held his still smoking gun against her head. “We’re going out the back,” he said. “I’d hate to have to ruin your wedding night, so you behave.”
Logan stood as they ducked around a corner. Sterling Koch stared at him with his pistol trained on his chest. Logan rushed forward, startling him, shouting, “I said you’re beat!” He crashed into him, and they fell against the high-backed chair. Koch beat at his sides, but Logan forced himself back and stood. Sterling stood as well but Logan lunged toward him, his swing a wide arc and aided by the momentum of his lunge. His fist impacted the man’s face and caught Koch as he tried to stand. Koch’s gun fell to the floor and his face seemed for just a moment uncomprehending, as though he’d never felt a punch in his life. Logan imagined that was possible. Then, Koch crumpled to the ground and was still. Logan reached down and took the old man’s pistol. He glanced at the priest and the judge. They stood wide-eyed and lifted their hands. “Shame on you,” Logan spat.
Then he ran from the room to find his wife.