Authors: Stolen Ecstasy
Hannah Howell (26 page)
“You all right, Leanne?” Charlie asked as he and Jed crouched in front of her.
She looked at her two friends and sighed, knowing they were not going to like what she had to say. “I’m afraid I can’t ride like that again. Covering distance quickly is something I will have to forgo.”
“It’s probably just that you’re not used to riding hard no more.”
“No, Jed. It’s a little more than that. I am going to have a baby.” For a moment, they only stared at her as if she had suddenly sprouted another head. Tentatively she asked, “Could you please lay me out my bed?” Then Jed scrambled to do that, and she added, “With something to rest my head on and something to put my feet up on.”
Within minutes she was settled on her bedding, feet up. Slowly she began to feel better, her fear easing. Charlie and Jed set up camp but kept a very close eye on her. When a nervous-looking Charlie brought her a plate of beans and a cup of coffee, she sat up.
“You’re all right? Haven’t hurt yourself or nothing?”
“No, Charles. I’ll be fine. I think it was just a warning. The doctor I worked with when I was at school told me that a body does give a warning, and a lot of problems are caused because people simply don’t heed it. That was what this was—a little warning. I’m already feeling better. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll leave everything to you two, however, and stay right here with my feet up to be sure.”
“That’s fine, Leanne. You rest all you need.”
She concentrated on eating. There was one positive thing about her condition at the moment, and that was that her body was so desperate for sustenance it could even tolerate Charlie’s coffee. When she set her plate and cup aside and started to undo her shoes, Charlie was immediately back at her side. He gently pushed her back onto her bedding and took off her shoes for her.
“You don’t have to do that. I’m fine. Really. I don’t need this much pampering, nice as it is.”
“Me and Jed have been talking,” Charlie said, setting her shoes aside.
“I saw you two whispering.” She prepared herself for the argument she was sure was coming.
“We think you ought to go back.”
“Well, I don’t.”
“It’s Hunter’s baby.”
“And mine. I told you he doesn’t wish to marry me now.”
“But he doesn’t know about the baby.” Jed moved to crouch at her other side. “It’d be different if he knew.”
“I don’t want him to marry me just because I’m carrying his child.”
“Yeh, but if you don’t get married, it’ll be a bastard.”
“Did you two happen to notice what Sloane Walsh’s marriage was like?”
“What’s that got to do with this?”
“Just answer the question, Charles.”
“Yeh, it was bad. Ain’t seen many that poor, ‘though they’re real civilized about it. I woulda tossed her out. She don’t even do any work.”
“Well, I don’t want to end up like that. Don’t argue,” she said when they both opened their mouths to speak. “Marriage between me and Hunter could turn just as sour. Sure he would want the baby, but he doesn’t want me. He wants to marry Patricia Spotford. He loves her. He’s going to be angry and resentful if he has to turn his back on her. That’ll sour our marriage. Better the child be a bastard than suffer in an unhappy home.”
“A child oughta have a pa.” Jed frowned then brightened. “One of us could marry you.”
“That’s very sweet, but friends don’t necessarily make good marriage partners. I know a child should have two parents. That is the best way. I can’t have that now, so I’ll make do with what I’ve got. As for a father—well a lot of friends who just happen to be men can almost be as good. I’ve got you two, O’Malley, and his sons. Plenty of good examples for the child to look up to.”
“Well, I don’t think me and Jed can be called good examples.”
“Of course you can. You aren’t perfect, to be sure, but I think that’s better. Perfection can be very trying to have around.”
“Aren’t you ever going to tell Hunter?”
“I can’t answer that just now, Jed. It depends on so much—What happens in Hunter’s life and what happens in mine. There’s plenty of time to make a decision. Considering how I feel about Hunter just now, I don’t think it’d be a good idea for me to make any decision that concerns him.” She could not fully stifle a yawn, her body’s need for rest blessedly stronger than her inner turmoil.
“Here now, Jed, we better let her rest. We’ll go easy from now on, Leanne. Any old time you want to stop, you just call out.”
“Thank you. You are being very good to me,” she murmured as she closed her eyes.
In the morning she felt as good as new, although it took a little while to convince Charles and Jed of that. They proceeded at a pace she thought a little too slow, but it was not until after their noon rest that she was able to convince them to go just a little faster, that it was only the hard riding for several hours that had caused the problem.
As they continued on, she looked back in the direction they had come from. Crumbled dreams were all she left behind, except for a budding friendship with a lonely young girl. She hoped Laurie would not return to her mother’s shadow.
Even as the buggy drew to a halt before the house, Laurie knew something was wrong. Her father’s immediate appearance on the veranda to demand if they knew where Leanne was made it very hard for her to act calm as she got out of the buggy, but she struggled to do so. By the time she was in the house, talk of supplies and horses gone—as well as Charles and Jed—told her Leanne was gone. Still fighting to act as if she did not care, she meandered up to her room. Dropping her pose only after she was inside of her room, she looked around frantically, then snatched up the note left by Leanne.
“I’m sorry to leave without saying good-bye,” she read. “In fact, I’m sorry to be leaving at all, as I think we were near to being very good friends. In case ‘Mother’ doesn’t ‘says’ this time, I’m leaving because Hunter loves and intends to marry Patricia Spotford. Your mother showed me a letter he wrote the woman saying just that. As soon as I calm down, I promise I will write to you. Please, do not stop looking for answers, looking at the world through your own eyes. Much love, Leanne.”
Laurie slowly sat down on her bed. She read the letter over and over again. Each word made her recall the overheard conversations between Patricia Spotford and her mother. They were behind this. She was sure of it.
Looking at the letter she held, she muttered, “I’ll keep looking for answers all right—and by the time Hunter gets home, I’ll have them!”
“Damn it, why is this dragging out for so long?” Hunter growled as he strode toward the saloon with Sebastian and Owen.
“That’s what you pay a good lawyer for,” Sebastian drawled.
Hunter silently cursed all lawyers as they found a seat in the crowded saloon and Sebastian ordered them some whiskey. He was accomplishing so little and using so much time to do it in, Hunter reflected. After downing a shot of whiskey, he felt a little calmer.
“I figure a day, maybe two, more, then it has to go to the jury.”
“Sebastian’s right, Hunter. That lawyer’s dragged it out as long as he can.”
“I told Leanne I’d be home in a month. That’s come and gone.”
“You’d better send her word telling her why you’re not.” Sebastian laid out his cigarette makings on the table.
“It’d cost me a fortune to tell her everything that’s gone wrong. You’d never know they wanted this man so bad.”
“They’ve got him. No rush now. Of course, if you weren’t so determined, the lawyer could have succeeded just by delaying long enough for you to up and leave. The fewer witnesses, the better. That’s also why he’s called on you more than once and tried to discredit you. That little game has sent witnesses storming off before. It seems longer than it’s been, too, ’cause it started so much later than we thought it would—the judge being sick, the backlog of trials. He’ll still hang.”
“Sure about that? Watkins’s lawyer’s one good talker.”
“Not that good, Hunter. He can’t talk down the truth or make that trail of robberies, murders, and rapes less offensive than it is.”
“Well, at least we managed one thing—Leanne’s name and mine are clear, and Charlie and Jed are pardoned. They’ll be glad of that. You can talk a damn good show, too, Sebastian. And that reminds me—something that lawyer asked, but I didn’t catch the answer. Just what was a federal law officer doing crossing into the sovereign territory of Mexico?”
“I was relieved of duty when I set out after Watkins and reinstated the minute we arrived in Little Creek with him. I was not acting with the government’s knowledge or approval, but as a private citizen.”
“Hell, maybe you oughta be a lawyer too.”
Sebastian half-smiled as he lit his cigarette. “Trying to make Watkins’s capture and all that look illegal didn’t work anyway. You could see it in the jury’s faces. They saw that tactic as a waste of time. Just like everyone else in the area close enough to Mexico to make it a problem, they’re sick to death of having outlaws commit their crimes here, then dart across the border into the safety of Mexico.”
Finishing off his whiskey, Hunter stood up. “I’m headed back to the hotel now.” Looking around the saloon he grimaced. “This isn’t really where I want to be. See you later.”
As he walked to the hotel, Hunter yet again talked himself into just a day or so more of patience. The way the matter dragged on was frustrating beyond words, but he had to see it through. He had to finish what he had set out to do—to see that Watkins paid and to hear the sentence passed, to know the man was finished.
He missed Leanne, missed her more than he would have thought possible. All he wanted to do was get back to the ranch, marry her, and get started on their life together. It was small comfort knowing that she would understand all the delays, that she too wanted to be sure Watkins got what he deserved. That did not make his bed any less empty.
Hunter struggled through another three days before it was over at last. Watkins’s lawyer finally finished pleading his case. The jury, for all the man’s cleverness and eloquence, took barely three hours to reach their verdict of guilty on all counts. When handing down the sentence, the judge expressed the regret that it was impossible to hang a man more than once, for Watlcins had been convicted of more hanging crimes than any other man ever set before him.
Feeling a weight lifted from his shoulders, Hunter started out of the courtroom only to be confronted by a wild-eyed Watkins struggling in the hold of his guards.
“You’ll pay for this, Hunter! You’ll pay dearly.”
“In three days time, you’ll be past making anyone pay for anything. You’re for hanging, Watkins.”
“I’m not dead yet, you son of a bitch.”
“Get him outta here,” growled Sebastian as he stepped up beside Hunter.
The guards dragging him off, Watkins screamed, “There is no place you can hide, Walsh! No place. And you won’t be dying easy. Neither will that little bitch of yours. You and that whore are as good as dead.”
For a long moment after Watkins was gone, Hunter stared after the man. Then he looked at Sebastian. “There isn’t a chance he can get out, is there? That he can fulfill any of those threats?”
“I’m not going to tell you it’s impossible—nothing’s impossible. But the chances of it happening are damn slim.”
“Hell, I don’t like hangings but maybe I . . .”
“Go home. Tuckman’s staying for the hanging. He’ll let you know. Go home.”
“Will Martin’s trial take long?”
“It starts in less than an hour. I have a feeling it won’t even go until suppertime.”
“Then I’ll stay.” Hunter returned to a seat in the courtroom.
There were several surprises in Martin’s trial. Hunter was relieved to see that the revelations startled Sebastian as well. Before hiding behind a badge in Leanne’s hometown, Martin had cut a lurid trail of crimes through the territory. There was more than enough to hang him.
For a brief moment, Hunter was dismayed to see that Martin was using Watkins’s slick lawyer, but either the lawyer realized he was wasting his skills before this jury or he was dispirited, for he did his job efficiently but quickly. In less than four hours, Martin was tried, convicted, and sentenced. He would hang right alongside Watkins.
Martin said nothing as he was led out. Hunter felt compelled to meet the man’s fixed glare. In Martin’s look was an echo of all of Watkins’s hissed threats. It robbed Hunter of the feeling that the matter was finally finished.
It was not until he, Hunter, and Sebastian were seated in the saloon, each of them sipping at a beer, that Owen broke the silence between them. “There’s not much reason to stay around here, Hunter. It’s done.”
“I know.” He shook his head. “Yet I don’t have that feeling of something being finished. Y’know the feeling I mean?”
“Yeah, like you want to kick up your heels or something.”
“It was there for a minute when the judge pronounced sentence on Watkins, but it didn’t stay long.”
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