Sister's Choice (28 page)

Fortunately, the cows knew it was time to come in, and she didn’t have to give them much thought when she brought the two milk cows into the barn. And she certainly didn’t have to think about the milking. So her mind picked away at the problem of the trial. It didn’t take long for her to decide that she had to lie. It would be her word against the deputy’s, if indeed he was the one who had clued Mr. Cranston in on her secret. Not exactly just his word, now that she thought about it. Evan knew. Would Cranston question Evan? Could he question the opposing lawyer? Tommy also knew, but he wouldn’t contradict her.

Lying was her only choice. But she wasn’t very good at lying. Mama might have told her often that she had a cunning way of sidestepping the truth, but that applied only to harmless fibs. This was pretty big. She was intimidated by the sheriff and probably would be by Mr. Cranston, as well. What if she babbled or couldn’t get her story straight?

Perhaps the best approach would be to just say she couldn’t remember. It had been a couple of months. They couldn’t expect her to remember a conversation that far back, could they?

She imagined the scene as she milked Bessie.

“Miss Newcomb, did you have a conversation with Tommy Donnelly
regarding his desire to ‘get back’ at his father?”

“I don’t recall.”

“Come now. Surely you would remember when someone threatens their
own father.”

“I can’t remember.”

“Your Honor, this girl is obviously lying. She must go to jail!”

Dismayed at her own dismal rendering of the courtroom scene, she yanked too hard on Bessie and was nearly knocked off her stool.

“Sorry, Bessie, but I don’t know what to do! I can’t lie, yet I can’t betray Tommy. And no matter what Evan says, I think when folks hear what Tommy told me, they will think twice about self-defense. What would you do? You and Blackie are close. Would you send her to the slaughterhouse? No, you’d lie to protect her, wouldn’t you? It’s the decent thing to do. Sometimes lying isn’t wrong if it’s done to protect someone. Right?”

Besides Evan, there was only one other person Maggie could talk to about this. But Zack was really busy lately, spending much of the little spare time he had in St. Helens with Reverend Barnett. Even Ellie didn’t see him very much. When Zack had been a fake minister, he had counseled Maggie to keep quiet about what Tommy told her. He probably would have had no problem back then to also agree with her about lying. But now that he was about to become a real minister, would he feel the same?

She knew she was grasping at straws to even ask the question. There would not be a single person, except perhaps Tommy himself, who would counsel her to lie, especially in a court of law where the consequences would be dire. But wasn’t that what friendship was about, making sacrifices for your friend? Wasn’t that called “the greater good” or something? A lie would save a person’s life. That had to be the greater good.

Her head started to ache with these deep musings. She was glad when Georgie came in to help with the chores. He began forking hay into Jock’s and Samo’s stalls.

“Are Mama and Ellie home?” Maggie asked Georgie as she began milking Blackie.

“I didn’t see ’em when I went in to change,” Georgie replied. “Hey, Maggie, next time you see Evan tell him how much I like that hat of his.”

“Why don’t you tell him yourself?”

“You see him a lot more than I do. Tell him that Cissy Fergus thought I looked right natty in it.”

Georgie’s interest in Cissy was certainly persisting. Well, at least Cissy was not at all like her homely, somewhat uncouth sister Iris who, at twenty-two, was probably going to end up an old maid. Cissy was pretty with red curls and freckles. She giggled a lot, though basically she was pleasant company. But Georgie was too young to be so serious about one girl.

She glanced at her brother and was more aware than ever at how grown-up he was becoming. He would soon be fifteen and was as tall as Dad, if not taller. The rigorous farm work was building a muscular physique on him. In a few years he would vie with Colby in good looks. And now she realized Georgie would surpass him where character was concerned, too.

Seeming to prove this observation, Georgie said, “You know, that Evan is a real nice person, not at all like his snooty sister or his mother. Must take after his dad, or maybe it was because he was away from home so much. Are you sweet on him, Mags?”

“What?” Had Grandma put Georgie up to this?

“Well, he’s here a lot. I was just wondering.”

“Of course not!” she said with more force than was needed.

Shrugging, Georgie went about his work, saying no more. Maggie returned her attention to the milking, her thoughts wandering again. She tried to think of the trial, but that went nowhere except to the moral question, which would only be answered when she took the stand at the trial. So, try as she might to concentrate on serious matters, she kept thinking about Evan. She thought of their first meeting when he tripped on the carpet and spilled his punch all over her. She thought of his accidentally letting the chickens out, then grinning as together they chased them down. She thought of his stepping on her toes as she tried to teach him to dance. And of the time he slipped down into the muddy ditch, pulling her after him.

All those thoughts made her smile. Evan made her smile. Not because he was funny and clumsy, but because every time she was with him, she felt happy. Even the time she had felt most miserable about the rumors, he had literally turned cartwheels just to make her smile.

Then she remembered how badly she had treated him today. She felt a sudden impulse to saddle one of the horses and ride to his house right then and there to tell him how sorry she was.

Yet what would be the point? If she could not respond favorably to his words of love, would he want to see her? He’d risked a great deal to say them. He’d risked rejection certainly, when he no doubt still felt the sting of Tamara’s rejection. And he’d risked their friendship. She knew Evan well enough to know he wouldn’t have done so lightly. He’d meant what he’d said.

How could she face him if she did not feel the same way? She cared too much for him to risk breaking his heart, as Tamara had.

TWENTY-FIVE

The courtroom in the St. Helens courthouse was small but seemed even more so now with perhaps a hundred folks crowded in the room. Maggie didn’t know even half the people. She thought many were simply seeking cheap entertainment. Well, the county had no theater, and few acting troupes ever graced the community, so the folks had little else but this kind of amusement. The level of noise and activity in the room resembled a fair more than a serious legal proceeding.

Though Evan had described some court protocol to Maggie, she still felt as though she had entered foreign territory. She thought Dad and Mama felt the same way as they stood beside her at the doorway, hesitant to proceed farther into this strange and forbidding world. There were some familiar faces. Several neighbors who could get away were present, but she suspected most were there to testify, not to be mere spectators. She saw Zack on the other side of the room and waved. Ellie had stayed at home with Grandma and Georgie to do all the chores that could not wait till the end of the trial. Dad, Mama, and Maggie would stay in town for the duration rather than make the arduous drive twice a day for who knew how long. Evan thought two or three days.

The spectator seats were filled to capacity, with many folks standing in the aisles. A railing separated the litigators’ tables and the judge’s bench from the assembly. The first row of seats was almost empty, obviously being saved. Maggie saw that Jane Donnelly was the only one in the row. Just as Maggie wondered if she and her parents could be so bold as to take these vacant seats, the only seats left in the room, Mrs. Donnelly turned and waved for them to join her.

“I saved the seats for you folks,” she said to Mama. “I wanted friends close by.”

“I’m glad you did, Jane,” Mama replied, taking the seat next to Mrs. Donnelly. Dad took the next seat and Maggie the one beside him. “We are here to support you,” Mama added with a caring smile.

Maggie knew that Mrs. Donnelly had no family close by because she and Tom had migrated here twenty years earlier from California. No sisters, no brothers, and no parents—it was almost as if Tom had wanted to drag her away from all her loved ones. But seeing Mama clasping Mrs. Donnelly’s hand, Maggie realized that the horrible man hadn’t been entirely successful. Mama and Mrs. Donnelly were almost as close as sisters.

“I can’t believe so many people have turned out for this,” Dad commented.

“Morbid curiosity,” Mrs. Donnelly said, her lips tightening with her disapproval. Naturally she’d be upset that her son should be the object of such a thing, that folks wouldn’t have come if they thought everything was going to turn out happily. Some were probably even hoping the spectacle would culminate in a hanging.

There had never been a legal hanging in the county, and Evan felt strongly that Tommy wouldn’t hang. But he might go to prison, and from what Maggie had learned about the state prison, going there was a fate worse than death. One way or another Tommy’s life hung in the balance here, and she became more and more determined to lie about what Tommy told her.

Soon the attorneys entered the courtroom. Mr. Cranston had a strut to his step. He grinned at the spectators. She had never met the man before the events involving Tommy had occurred and had only known his reputation for being drunken and lazy. But he looked quite in command of himself now. He must realize that winning a trial like this could be a huge boost to his career. Not only was there a reporter from the local newspaper, the
Oregon Mist
, but someone had said a reporter from the Portland newspaper, the
Morning Oregonian
, was also present.

Maggie knew Evan had not taken this case out of ambition, but she saw now how winning could favorably affect his future. Maybe it would boost his confidence to the point where he would feel able to return to the law firm in Boston. She knew his mother was pushing him in that direction. Maggie didn’t like this line of thinking. He had to win this trial, yet it made her stomach queasy to think of him leaving.

Evan’s entrance was far more thoughtful than his opponent’s. He looked directly at Mrs. Donnelly and offered her an encouraging smile. Maggie thought he looked pale, more so than his usual city pallor, which had been darkening since he was spending more time outdoors. Though the swelling of his jaw had subsided, an ugly bruise remained. Perhaps that’s what gave his skin such a greenish cast.

Maggie tried to get his attention with her eyes. She was only three seats away from Mrs. Donnelly, but his gaze did not reach her. She wondered if he was purposely avoiding her. She smiled in his direction, desperate to communicate to him—what? That she was no longer mad at him? She didn’t know except that she wanted things to return to the way they had been. She wanted to return to their easy, enjoyable friendship. She should have followed the many impulses she’d had since that terrible day of the fight to go see him. She needed him now more than ever as she faced the possibility of betraying Tommy. Even if she had planned to lie, Mr. Cranston might somehow ferret the truth from her. Evan would never support her lying, so she needed to hear his assurance that all would be well if she told the truth.

In another moment Tommy himself entered the courtroom, led in by Sheriff Haynes. Tommy was dressed in his Sunday suit, and his hair was neatly brilliantined and combed. He didn’t look like Tommy at all. He looked small and helpless sitting at the table beside Evan. He glanced briefly at his mother and smiled, but his lips shook a little. He was very nervous, probably more at having to be the center of attention than he was at the prospect of hanging. He was so simple and harmless. How could anyone think he’d maliciously hurt anyone? All he wanted to do was fish and hunt in the outdoors he loved. He did not deserve any of this.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the bailiff ’s strong voice calling, “Order in the court!” He had to say this once more before the noise dwindled to a halt. Then he announced, “All rise for the Honorable Judge Lionel Olsen, circuit judge for the Fifth District.”

Maggie rose with the rest of the crowd, and for the first time that day, truly felt the seriousness of what was about to happen. She could not help being a little awestruck by the impressive presence of the man in a flowing black robe who strode to the raised bench at the front and took his seat. He looked like an Old Testament patriarch, perhaps Moses or Aaron. He even had a beard, though his was shorter than the long white beard she’d seen in Bible pictures. But his beard was almost as white, contrasting sharply with his shrewd black eyes. She had hoped for a benevolent grandfather type to be Tommy’s judge. This man was far from that. The words
hanging judge
popped into her mind. Not that she’d heard these applied to Judge Olsen, but he looked as if he could be such a one. Evan had said he was firm but fair, and she clung to that now, though her hands trembled as she clutched them together in her lap.

After everyone had been instructed to sit, Judge Olsen spoke. “Let us begin the proceedings in this action, the State of Oregon versus Mr. Thomas Donnelly.”

The judge introduced the lawyers and instructed them to begin the process of selecting the jury. Maggie realized then that many of the people in the spectator area were prospective jurors. Cranston rose and questioned the first juror, asking him his name and where he lived, if he knew Tommy, and if he could be fair and impartial. The man answered yes to all the questions. Cranston accepted the man.

Then it was Evan’s turn to question the man. As Evan rose, the hem of his jacket caught on a stack of papers sitting before him on the table. The papers were swept off the table, scattering all over the floor. Maggie saw red creep up Evan’s neck.

“I beg y-your pardon, Y-Your Honor!” he said, bending to collect the papers. Maggie saw his hands were trembling almost as much as hers.