Ferd's Fair Favor: Tales from Biders Clump, #8

By Danni Roan

Determined to track down the men who left another to die, Ferd Wallace ranges the long hills in search of answers. Unprepared for what he finds, the young deputy from Biders Clumps must find a tender strength to earn the trust of those in need of his help and still put a mystery to rest.
Constance Jupiter, is struggling to keep her Abuelo alive as influenza wracks her tiny home and has little strength left to combat the invasions of her quiet world. Alone and frightened she is unwilling to trust the word of a stranger who's only goal is to help, resisting until it's almost too late.
Can a stubborn determination and an overpowering will find compromise long enough to protect the one they have both learned to love, or will disaster, danger, and past deeds create an insurmountable abyss that dooms them all?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Danni Roan
• Release date: Mar 15, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201573492

Danni Roan

About the Author Danni Roan, a native of western Pennsylvania, spent her childhood roaming the lush green mountains on horseback. She has always loved westerns and specifically western romance and is thrilled to be part of this exciting genre. She has lived and worked overseas with her husband and tries to incorporate the unique quality of the people she has met throughout the years into her books. Although Danni is a relatively new author on the scene she has been a story teller for her entire life, even causing her mother to remark that as a child “If she told a story, she had to tell the whole story.” Danni is truly excited about this new adventure in writing and hopes that you will enjoy reading her stories as much as she enjoys writing them.

Book preview

Prologue

Ferd swung down from his tired bay, pausing to give the horse a pat on the shoulder while he gazed around the quiet homestead. From a distance, he’d seen the heavy team of horses in the corral and had immediately turned his mount down the valley in hopes that his long hunt was at an end.

The little house was neat and clean if somewhat the worse for wear from the elements. It’s unpainted boards, graying and bleached by the sun in some areas, and the barn needed a few repairs, but the stock in the rail corral were well fed and content, even as they scrounged for any spare wisp of hay on the hard packed earth.

As he scanned the dusty yard, his keen eyes beginning to pick out elements around the place that indicated that not all was as it seemed, Ferd began to feel a strange unease creeping up his spine. First he noted the hand pump on the far side of the house that stood dripping, its handle raised like a flag in the air.

On closer inspection, the water trough in the corral was nearly empty, and one wide barn door hung partially open like a winking eye. Even the smoke from the little house itself seemed intermittent and forlorn.  

Leading his horse toward the trough, Ferd kept studying the horses, already there, more closely, pulling a slip of paper from his pocket he read through the detailed description comparing it to the horses themselves. The darker horse had a white sock and a wide blaze down its face while the pale buckskin bore only a snip on the black of its nose.

I don’t know who you are mister. A scratchy voice sounded from the front porch freezing Ferd in his steps, but those are my horses and no business of yours.

Slowly Ferd turned looking up into the darker shadows of the small front porch and directly into the flashing black eyes of a black haired woman in a white dressing gown who held the double barreled shot gun to her shoulder as if she knew how to use it.

Ma’am. Ferd spoke, his voice sounding high and reedy in his ears as he carefully put his horse in front of him.  Ferd held his hand up. I’m not here to cause no trouble. I’m a deputy from down in Biders Clump, and I’m trying to find the fella that used to have them horses.

I told you they are my horses. The barrel of the shotgun wavered causing Ferd to flinch.

Ma’am, I’m the law. I don’t mean you no harm... Ferd began, but before he could finish his thought the young woman lowered the shotgun as she began to cough, sagging against the porch post for support.

His hands still in plain view Ferd stepped around his bay and headed to the porch, Ma’am, I don’t think you’re feelin’ too good. Maybe you should step back inside. A cool breeze rustled the weeds in the front yard, tugging at the hem of her white gown and exposing shapely ankles and bare feet.

You say you are the law? the woman managed between ragged coughs.

Yes, I’m Sheriff Pike’s deputy.

Show me a badge. The girl waved her hand in his direction, then placed a hand on her chest as another wave of coughing took her.

Carefully Ferd pulled his coat aside revealing the badge pinned to his heavy corduroy vest.

Still coughing the girl nodded, sagging further against the wood frame.

Ma’am, I don’t mean to be forward but I think you’d better get inside before you catch your death. Boldly he stepped up to her side and took the weapon from her slack hands, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and helping her into the cabin, beneath her thin night wear he could feel her skin burning against his hand.

Abuelo. The girl choked, raising her arm and pointing at a cot by a nearly dead fire. help Abuelo. She said, doubling over in a fit.

All right, now don’t you worry. First you drop on into that bed there and I’ll check on this Abuelo fella’. Ferd insisted, helping the girl to another cot and pulling the blankets over her chilled feet. You sure are mighty sick. He added, tucking the blankets to her chin.

The girls fevered gaze snapped with fire at the obvious quip but the coughing had left her weak and her throat was too raw to speak.

Dropping the shotgun on the table in the middle of the open room, Ferd moved to the other cot where an elderly man, his snowy hair disheveled and standing out from his head like a halo lay perfectly still, his once muscular chest rising and falling slowly.

Ferd placed a hand on the man’s forehead and took it away cool. It was obvious from the sallow cheeks and pale skin that the man had been ill but he wasn’t burning with fever like the girl. Now Mr. Abuelo, you don’t worry none sir, just rest there and I’ll get that fire going again. Everything will be all right you’ll see.

Smoothing the blankets on the quiet man’s bed, Ferd rose and picked up the last few shards of wood that sat in the box by the stone mantle tossing them onto the embers and coaxing it back to life.

Moving over to the girl’s bedside, he addressed her. I’m goin’ outside now to put my horse up and fetch some wood, you just stay here and try to rest. But as he finished another coughing spell wracked the woman’s form, and he hurried to the bucket to fetch her a cup of water offering her a sip, before slipping back outside into the late winter chill.

Baylor, I hope Ma packed some of Grandma Wooster’s medicine? the young deputy spoke to his horse as he led him to the barn and quickly placed him in a stall. I think we’re gonna need it.

Wrinkling his nose at the state of the small farm, the condition of the barn and the lack of feed for the stock, Ferd, straightened his coat and started toward a stack of logs. The people on this place must be bad off, but he stopped short as he came to an odd contraption with a big cross cut saw attached to it.

The device had a rounded clamp like base where a large log rested, and an arm mechanism that suspended the saw with a long handle attached.

For several moments Ferd stood scratching his head and studying the device until he realized it was a one man operated saw. Putting his back into it he quickly cut of several large discs, stacked them and carried them to the house.

Chapter 1

Stepping into the chilly cabin, Ferd noticed that the girl had collapsed on her cot where she lay shivering under her blankets.

I’ll get a fire really goin’ ma’am. The young lawman spoke hurrying to the fireplace and stoking the coals to a blaze as he laid the seasoned wood in the center with care.

He could feel the woman’s dark eyes following him but the coughing had left her so weak she didn’t seem able to speak.

From the other cot indistinct mumblings could be heard and a shiver ran down Ferd’s back.

As a fire lapped at the dry tinder, he piled on more wood, eased the damper on the flu and straightened once more.

The girl was once more struggling to her feet as sweat covered her brow.

Oh no you don’t. Ferd spoke, stepping to her side and pushing her back. I’ll see to your Abuelo.

Water. She said, looking up at him, he needs water. Her voice a bare whisper.

You rest now.  I’ll fetch water. He added more softly.  He could see the determination in her eyes, but her body was weak with fever.

Realizing the water carafe was nearly empty, Ferd looked around spying a water bucket and grabbing it up headed for the pump. A chill breeze blasted him as he stepped outside and he pulled his coat tight.

Winter was no time to be out here traipsing about the hills, but he’d given Jill Nelson his word that he’d find out the truth and track down the man who had killed her first husband.

Her new husband Tywyn had been a U.S. Marshall when they’d first met, but was now settled in to family life.

Filling the bucket from the rickety pump, Ferd hurried back to the house, noting the attention that the whole place needed.

When the wind shifted he could smell the chicken coop, and wondered if the hens had food and water.

He’d see to the people first then tend the animals.

Here now. He started as he walked through the door and found the young woman bending over the old man. You shouldn’t be up.

Water. She said, with no apology.

Hurrying to her side, Ferd lifted the bucket and she scooped the clear liquid in a tin cup.

Please Abuelo, drink. She urged.

Let me. Ferd spoke, taking the cup from her hands and lifting the man’s thin frame from the bed easily.

The man drank thirstily, then sagged back onto the bed.

Thank you. The girl finally addressed Ferd, as she leaned on the cot, I am Constance.

Well Constance, you need to be back in that bed. No arguin’ now. You get snugged in and I’ll see if I can fix some vittles.

Gently taking her elbow he guided Constance back to the bed and tucked her in. I’d appreciate it if you’d stay there. He chided his voice gentle but firm as he reached to scratch the week’s worth of stubble on his