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  LOGAN’S PROMISE

  NANCY HOWARD

  This book is a work of fiction and all people, places, and events are the result of the authors imagination, and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to events, or places, and people living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Logan’s Promise

  Copyright © 2020 by Nancy E. Howard

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner/publisher, except for the use of quotations in a book review or magazine.

  ISBN:

  Cover Art By: BookCoverZone White Rock #4426

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  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Other Books By Nancy Howard | The Alley Of Evil (Available now) | Our Place By The Sea (Available October 2020)

  “STRONG WOMEN AREN’T SIMPLY BORN. | THEY ARE MADE BY THE STORMS | THEY WALK THROUGH.” | -Anonymous-

  LOGAN’S PROMISE

  PART ONE

  PROLOGUE

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  PART TWO

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  PART THREE

  34

  35

  36

  37

  38

  39

  40

  41

  42

  43

  44

  Other Books By Nancy Howard

  The Alley Of Evil (Available now)

  Our Place By The Sea (Available October 2020)

  “STRONG WOMEN AREN’T SIMPLY BORN.

  THEY ARE MADE BY THE STORMS

  THEY WALK THROUGH.”

  -Anonymous-

  LOGAN’S PROMISE

  PART ONE

  PROLOGUE

  Tom Johnson looks up from his garden, to see five riders stopped and setting just off his property, on the main road. His wife Linda sees them, too. The riders begin to ride toward them and onto their farm. Tom can see that they’re a scruffy bunch—making him nervous. One of the men is dressed in all black with a patch over his left eye, and a beard of several days growth. He seems to be the leader. Tom is very uneasy. He thinks about heading up to the house to grab his rifle, but he's too far away. Linda is walking toward her husband to join him—curious to see who the men might be. They don't get many visitors out here.

  The riders come up to them, and the man in black says, “howdy folks. Mind if we water our horses.”

  Leery about letting them do so, Tom says, “help yourselves gents.” And points to the trough next to the corral.

  The men ride over and the horses drink—the Johnsons follow them. Then the man in black suddenly dismounts. He is standing right front of them looking at them with a wild eyed stare and an evil grin on his face, making Tom very fearful of him. Tom tells Linda to run towards the house, as fast as she can. She turns and begins to run away. Then the man in black reaches for a double barreled scatter gun in his saddle holster. Tom sees this, and quickly runs toward Linda to protect her from being shot. Then without cause or provocation the man pulls the triggers on the gun, unloading both barrels into the backs of the Johnsons—killing them both, instantly. He looks at his companions and laughs out loud at his monstrous crime. Then he walks over to them, and takes the butt end of the gun and bludgeons their dead bodies several times.

  Tom and Linda are dead, and their farm is at the mercy of these thugs. The other four men get down off their horses—laughing at the murders they'd just seen committed. They all stand and look around for a few seconds, like a group of school children looking for mischief to get into. Then they all grab their rifles off their horses and shoot and kill all the livestock, at point blank range. Then they set fire to the barn, and stand back periodically to watch it burn. Laughing at their destructive deed, in an admiring manner

  After this they quickly turn their attention to the house, walking up and into it—looking for someone else to kill—something else to destroy. They find and see no one else around, so they begin to tear up and wreck everything in the house. Cursing and laughing loudly, at the atrocious crimes they're committing against these poor innocent people. After ransacking the house they went back outside, and watched as the barn goes up in flames. It is now burning hotly—consumed in flames and smoke.

  They start to leave, but don't do that right away. Instead they decide to commit one more act of violence against the Johnsons. They walked back out to the corral, where Tom and Linda’s dead bodies are laying lifeless on the ground. Then one by one each man unbuttons his trousers, exposing and arousing himself. They rip and tear Linda’s clothes off of her—leaving her not only dead but naked. And each of them takes his turn in the sick perverted act of sexually assaulting her dead bloody body. Done doing such a dispicable act, they get back on their horses and ride away, still laughing at what they'd done.

  All this time these men were committing these dastardly deeds against the Johnsons, they were unaware of being watched by two sets of eyes, hiding in the tall grass behind the house.

  1

  It's thirty to thirty-five miles into her journey—it’s getting to be late afternoon. Logan is exhausted. She's been riding since early morning, barely stopping for any reason, except to give Warrior a much needed rest. Not wanting to push him any further, she decides she needs to start looking for a place to camp for the night.

  It's a very hot day as the afternoon sun of summer beats down on her. She's thirsty, and wants to stop and drink.

  “Whoa, boy.” She says, stopping Warrior.

  “Damn it’s hot out here.” Logan murmurs to herself, before she takes her canteen off the saddle horn, and drinks a long drink, refreshing herself. She removes her hat, and wipes the sweat from her brow with the sleeve of her shirt, and puts the canteen back on the saddle horn. She puts her hat back on, and secures it with the chin strap, and looks off in the distance. She’s seen a plume smoke rising into the air from that vicinity for a longtime. And as she rides closer, she can see that it seems to be coming from near a farmhouse about a mile away.

  This piques Logan's curiosity, as to what might have happened—causing her to temporarily forget how hot and tired she is. She decides to ride toward the smoke to investigate.

  As she approaches and gets closer, Logan could see a barn completely burned to the ground and still smoldering. She sees several dead animals laying around everywhere, in the corral, and near the barn.

  She can see two dead bodies lying next to each other near the corral. One is a man, the other a woman. Her instincts tell her that danger is either near, or has just exited the area. She stops Warrior and draws her gun. She looks around in all directions, not sure what to expect. She pulls the hammer slowly back on her gun, cocking it, holding it high, in a ready position. Then she proceeds—walking Warrior slowly and deliberately toward the carnage she sees.

  She’s close enough now that the pungent odor of blood and death are all around her. Permeating her nostrils, making her want to vomit. She pulls her neckerchief up over her face, to shield her nose from
the obnoxious smell of rotting and burned flesh.

  Riding closer, Logan becomes more leery of the situation she's riding toward. Is she riding into an ambush? She wonders. Are those who perpetrated these diabolical deeds she sees, still out there? Watching her, and her every move. Waiting. Waiting for the right time, the right minute, to pounce on her and kill her like they did to the two poor souls laying on the ground next to her. Logan looks all around one more time, before she slowly and carefully dismounts.

  Standing next to the bodies of the man and woman, she sees they're covered in dried blood, pooled all around them where they bled out. The woman’s clothes have been torn off, indicating to Logan that her body was sexually abused after she died. She knows they’ve been dead for several hours. She stands up and looks around in all directions again, still trying to spot any danger that might be close by.

  “Who did this? Renegade Apaches,” she questions? “If this was the work of Indians, they would have likely taken the livestock, not killed them.” Logan doesn't think this is the work of Indians. She knows the man and woman were executed, with what appears to have been a scatter gun. Then their bodies seemed to have been bludgeoned with some sort of club, postmortem. Indians would have scalped them both, after they killed them, or possibly taken the woman hostage.

  No, whoever committed these heinous murders is just plain mean. It makes Logan very angry when she sees something like this—good innocent people, murdered for no reason at all.

  She takes another look at the smoldering barn, it’s nothing now but a pile of burnt out rubble and scorched timbers, lying in a heap on the ground. The whole scene is like a horror story, with vultures and magpies flying around everywhere. It's a smorgasbord for them, as they each hang around waiting for their turn at a meal.

  The birds are dining on the dead animals for now. But Logan realizes that she's got to bury the two people soon, before the birds eat the human flesh, too. Before she does that, she decides that she needs to take a look inside the farmhouse, which is directly behind her.

  She walks slowly up to the farmhouse porch, with Warrior in toe. She drops his reins, and cautiously steps onto it. The front door is wide open, and is swinging wildly back and forth in the wind. Making a loud banging noise, as it slams against the wall. Bang! Bang! Spooking Warrior, and causing him to stir restlessly every time he hears it, and giving Logan goose bumps. She makes her way inside the house, still pointing her gun at everything she sees—walking carefully and deliberately through the front door. She’s not sure what kind of danger might be lurking and waiting for her, inside.

  Then she hears the floor creak in an adjacent bedroom, where the door is closed. Not sure who's in the room, Logan walks slowly toward it.

  “Who's in there?” She calls out, using a forceful tone. Her gun is pointed directly at the door, ready to shoot whoever is in there. Especially if the door were to suddenly burst open, and she would find herself in extreme danger from someone who rushes out at her, with the intent to harm her.

  No answer comes back, then Logan hears movement in the room, again.

  “Whoever you are in there—open the door and come out with your hands up,” she commands.

  Still no answer, and no one comes out. She reaches carefully for the door knob and turns it very slowly. She opens the door quickly, and shoves it in hard so it hits the interior wall of the room. Logan quickly steps back. She points her gun directly into the room, ready to shoot.

  Inside, she sees are two young girls that appear to be in their teens. One is holding a rifle, and is pointing it directly at her. Both of the girls are huddled into a corner of the room, opposite Logan. Both of them staring at her with wild looks in their eyes.

  Then the one with the rifle, who appears to be the oldest says, “don't you come any closer, lady. Or I'll shoot you.”

  Logan thinks the girl just might do that. Then she says, “whoa, easy. Put the gun down. Nobodies going to shoot anyone. I'm not going to hurt either of you. I want to try and help you, if you'll let me.”

  She said all of this using a measured tone, because she still wasn't sure the girl holding the rifle wouldn't pull the trigger, and shoot her. The last thing she wants to do is spook the girl and get shot by her. Neither did she want to pull the trigger on her pistol in a knee jerk reaction, and shoot the girl who is just a child.

  The girls were obviously scared to death of her, and everyone they see, as well as every sound they hear. The wild look of fear in their eyes tells Logan they don't trust her at all. And why should they? Logan is a complete stranger, and is standing in front of them with her gun drawn. She's sure that's doing nothing to calm their fear of her.

  They are very distraught, and they've probably been in here for several hours—possibly overnight. She couldn't help but feel sorry for them and wants to help them. But first she has to gain their trust. She has to get them to overcome their fear of her. And right now until she can get the girl to lower the rifle, she knows that's her biggest challenge with them. Getting them to trust her.

  “Look, why don't we start over here. You lower the rifle and I'll put my pistol in it's holster. Fair enough?” They shook their heads yes. “Easy and slow. Okay? Like I said, I don't want to harm you. I want to find out from you what happened here,” Logan said. Still being careful, making sure she uses the same measured tone in her voice. Calming the girls fears of her in order to gain their trust.

  The older girl eventually lowers the rifle, putting it on the floor. Logan put her gun away, then she walks over and picks up the rifle, and stands it against the wall in the corner, where it's out of reach.

  “Now, can you please tell me what happened here? And what are your names? Mine's, Logan Kincaid.”

  Then the older girl speaks up, stammering a bit, and says, “I...I'm...I'm, Libby Johnson, and this here is my younger sister, Connie. Are my parents dead,” she asks? Fearfully.

  Logan paused for a second and looks at the two of them, trying to think of a way to defer the girl's question, but she couldn't. She thinks, my God how does she tell them, they’re just kids. So she answers her, quietly, “I'm sorry girls, there's nothing that can be done for either of them.”

  Upon hearing Logan say this, the girls begin screaming in horror—crying profusely. Then the younger girl Connie puts her hands over her face, and slides down the wall—crying a silent, deep, hurtful cry.

  Then Libby, bolts for the door.

  “No, no, no,” Logan says. As she quickly jumps in front of her to stop her. She grabs her and holds onto her, hugging her tight, holding on to her to keep her from going outside. The girl is determined to do just that, go outside. Logan doesn’t want to let the girl see the bodies of her parents and the terrible condition they are in. Finally after a few seconds of struggling, she gives in, as she hugs Logan tightly—crying. Logan hugs her back, then holds her at arm's length. “You don't want you to go out there. Trust me,” she said. “Now please, ladies, tell me what happened here, so I can help you. Were you attacked by Apaches? When did this happen,” she asks them?

  Before Libby could answer her, Logan hears a wagon pulling up in front of the house. She put her fingers to her lips, as an indication to the girls, to be quiet. She whispers to them to stay put in the bedroom. She draws her gun again—suspecting danger. She didn't know who this might be, so she prepares herself for the worst. Logan walks back into the living room area, where she could now hear voices through the open door.

  She immediately hears the shrieking and crying, of at least two women.

  “My God! My God! What's happened here?” One of them exclaims!

  Then the voice of a second woman cries out loudly. “Who did this? Who would do such a vile thing? Oh, my God! This is awful!”

  Then she hears one of the women say, “Wayne, whose horse is that? Where are the girls?”

  Logan is listening and remains quiet, hidden just inside. She hears a man say, “I'm not sure, but we're gonna Bye-God, find out!”

&nb
sp; Logan hunkers down and from her vantage point in the house she could see the shadows of the two men, each of them carrying rifles approaching the front porch. They're aiming their rifles right at the door as they get closer to it, preparing to shoot at the first thing that moves. Logan isn't sure who this is and she doesn't want to have to shoot someone who's only trying to help, like she's doing. The men are now right outside the door, and one yells inside, “hey, you in there. Whoever you are. Come out with your hands up, or we're comin' in after you.”

  “Not a chance mister, and I wouldn't try that. You, and your friend should put your rifles down. And who are you,” She asks?

  “Who are we? Who the hell are you? And where are Libby and Connie?” His tone being more subtle, after he hears that whoever they're dealing with is a woman.

  “They're in here. They're okay,” Logan said.

  “Did you do this to the Johnsons?” One of the men demanded.

  “Nope. I stumbled onto all of this as I was riding by just a little bit ago. I saw the smoke and the buzzards, and decided to ride up and get a closer look.”

  “You still ain't told us your name, girl,” the other man said.

  “It's Logan Kincaid. And you ain't told me yours, either.” Logan thinks that using her name might help, that maybe they'd heard of her.

  “The bounty hunter, Logan Kincaid,” he asks?

  “That'd be me. Now please put your rifles down, and I'll put my pistol away. No one needs to get shot here today.”

  “Agreed,” one of them said

  “Fair enough,” the other man said. Then they lowered their rifles, and leaned them against the wall of the house, and rushed in. Logan returned her gun to it's holster.

  When they enter the house, they tell Logan their names are Wayne Donaldson and Roger Dillon. The two women, who Logan assumes are their wives rush in after them as Libby and Connie emerge from the bedroom. The two women go over and quickly begin to hover over the two girls, in a protective manner. Logan wasn't sure whether they were protecting themselves as they hugged the girls, or perhaps they wanted to protect the girls from her for some reason. She couldn't tell.