Anyplace But Here (Oklahoma Lovers Series Book 5) (22 page)

She had to learn to stand on her own two feet and provide a living for herself. No more depending on a man to keep a roof over her head and food on her table.

But she would be a fool to deny how much she cared for him. Was it love?

“I could use a walk to clear my head.” Hunter took her hand in his as they strolled along.

“I don’t think Jesse would be too happy to see us holding hands in public.” Emily attempted to remove her hand from his.

“Honey, after tomorrow, it won’t make a bit of difference.”

“I know.” Her stomach knotted once again.

“I hate that you’re going to have to go through that.”

“And I hate what you’re going through.” She slashed her hand through the air. “Obviously, someone out there wanted Louis dead.” Coming to a complete stop, she tugged on Hunter’s fingers. “Please give me the list of witnesses Jeremy was going to speak to.”

Hunter pressed his index finger and thumb against the bridge of his nose. Once more his silky locks lay against his forehead, making her hand itch to smooth the strands back.

He studied her face, both of them ignoring the people who cast them dirty looks when they had to scoot around them to pass by. “Don’t you understand I want to keep you safe? That a murderer is out there who could be thinking about killing you?”

She blanched at his words. That likelihood had flitted through her mind once or twice, but hearing it spoken aloud made it seem all the more real. Since they had no idea who had actually killed Louis, they also had no motive. Oh, they had plenty of guesses and ideas, most likely someone who had been scammed by the business, but no strong suspect. Which could, of course, be why the district attorney had been so focused on Hunter from the very beginning.

“Millie is on the list. It certainly would do no harm to find out what the district attorney expects her to say. I can at least talk to her. There would be nothing unusual about me going to her shop if you’re so sure I’m being watched.”

When he hesitated, and before he could speak, she added, “I want to help, Hunter. I need to do something besides sit on the sidelines and watch you convicted for something you didn’t do. And it will help Jesse. He’s spending all day in court, and then hours afterward talking to witnesses. I can lighten his load.”

Hunter’s lips tightened. “I hate how helpless I feel. And I hate that Jesse is doing all this extra work because of the person I trusted to do the investigation. I should have known better.”

“Jeremy was your friend. You had trusted him before.”

He continued walking, a shroud of darkness seeming to cover them both. It no doubt hurt Hunter to not only lose the interviews and notes that burned up with Jeremy, but also to have a friend die so senselessly. How sad both her and Hunter’s lives had been the last several months.

Emily shook herself, refusing to give way to self-pity. It would serve no purpose and felt too much like giving up. She would survive this and go on. It was important to look at the bright side. She no longer had to worry about Louis, his moods, his demands, and his fists. In that way her life was already better.

And losing everything? It was almost freeing. With nothing to keep her here, once the trial was over and Hunter acquitted—
please, God
—they would leave Galveston far behind. Where she and Hunter would go from here was yet undecided. She only knew she wanted this man by her side. She might even love him already. But to love him completely, she had to trust, and that was one area where she might always hold back.

Hunter turned them to head back toward the hotel. “It’s getting late. You need your sleep.” He smiled at her, making her heart beat just a little bit faster.

Yes, this was the man she wanted.

Chapter 22

“Just answer yes or no to all the District Attorney’s questions. Don’t embellish, that will only get you into trouble.”

Emily nodded as Jesse once more prepared her for the grueling encounter with the district attorney. They stood at the back of the courtroom, waiting for the trial to resume. Mr. Sanders had just testified and she was next on the list.

Observers packed the room, word having spread that something juicy would be happening today.

Emily looked the area over. Women she had thought were friends eyed her speculatively, anxious to hear her testimony. Heads together, they whispered to each other, almost drooling as they waited for her fall from grace. Disgusted, she turned from them and made her way up the aisle to her seat in the front row behind the defendant’s table.

The State had subpoenaed her to testify as a hostile witness for the prosecution. Hostile was exactly how she felt. As well as terrified. The district attorney would use her to lay the foundation for his contention that Hunter had killed Louis to free her so they could be together. There would be no good ending to this. Her reputation would be in shreds, and the district attorney would put into the jurors’ minds that she was an adulteress and Hunter a murderer.

Jesse hoped to diminish the impact of her testimony by asking about Louis’s business practices and the beatings she had endured at her husband’s hands. As she waited for court to begin, she fought the urge to race outside and throw up. Once again she wiped her sweaty palms on her handkerchief and took a deep breath as they waited for the session to start.

“All rise. Court is in session, the Honorable Marcus Stenger presiding.”

Within minutes they were all seated in their respective spots. Emily fought the dots that danced in front of her eyes as her name was called. The last thing she wanted to do was faint.

Here it goes
. She stood on shaky legs, stiffened her shoulders, and walked to the witness box. Taking her seat, she looked out at the many eyes staring at her. She tamped down the urge to run shrieking from the courtroom.

“Good morning, Mrs. Smith.” The district attorney preened as he sauntered toward her.

She nodded, her mouth dry.

“Please state your name for the court record.”

“Mrs. Emily Smith.”

The district attorney smirked. “Actually, it’s Mrs. Louis Smith, correct?”

She raised her chin. “Not at all. My first name is not Louis.”

Titters and nods of approval swept the courtroom. The judge banged his gavel.

“Very nice, Mrs. Smith.” The District Attorney turned from her and walked toward the jury box. “Tell me ma’am, how long were you married to the deceased?”

“Three years.”

“And was yours a happy marriage?”

“Objection. The state of the witness’s marriage is irrelevant,” Jesse said.

The judge regarded him with raised brows. “Mr. Cochran, Mrs. Smith is the State’s witness, not the defense.”

“Hostile witness, Your Honor.”

The District Attorney moved to stand in front of the Judge. “Your Honor, the State’s case against Mr. Henderson stems from our belief that he killed Mr. Smith in order to free Mrs. Smith from an unhappy marriage.”

“Overruled. Proceed.”

“I repeat, was yours a happy marriage?”

“No,” she whispered.

Mr. Spencer leaned in. “Please repeat your answer, Mrs. Smith. I don’t think your voice carried to the jury.”

She raised her head and looked the jury members in the eye. “No.”

“Last spring you were absent from Galveston for several months. Can you tell the court where you were?”

“Guthrie, Oklahoma.”

“Really? Visiting family, I presume?”

“No.”

He waited as if he expected her to continue. She looked over at Jesse who gave her a slight nod.

Only answer yes or no
. The words he’d told her earlier ran through her mind. She looked back at Mr. Spencer.

“Were you visiting friends?”

“No.”

“How odd for a married woman to travel so far from home with no particular destination in mind.” He stared at her, and the knots in her stomach tightened.

“Objection, Your Honor. There is no question here.”

“Sustained. Ask a question, Mr. Spencer.”

“What was the purpose of your trip to Guthrie?”

“I took a job at the Harvey House.”

“A job? And can you explain to the court what the Harvey House is?”

She started to relax a bit. All eyes were still riveted on her, but she no longer feared the district attorney. If anything, she loathed the man. He was sneaky, and spittle spewed from his mouth every time he talked.

“The Harvey House is a chain of restaurants at train depots across the country.”

“Mrs. Smith, it turns out I am somewhat familiar with the Harvey House chain.” He returned to his table and picked up a piece of paper. “According to this ad in the Houston Chronicle, dated September ninth, nineteen hundred and seven, the Harvey House seeks to hire young
single
women to work at their restaurants.”

She fidgeted and pleated her skirt with shaky fingers, but didn’t say a word. Once more Jesse smiled and gave her a slight nod. She took a deep breath and waited for Mr. Spencer’s next question.

“So how is it that you were hired by the Harvey House, since they only hire single women?”

“I felt the need to get away for a while, so I . . . lied.”

“Ah. You lied.” He looked over at the jury and smiled. Emily felt the need to kick the man in his shins.

“Now when you were in Guthrie, did you meet the defendant?”

“Yes.”

“Did he court you?”

“No.”

“No? Yet when you were confronted by your husband, who found you after months of worry about your safety, the defendant followed you to Galveston.”

Jesse rose half way. “Your Honor, once more I ask if there is a question here?”

“Mr. Spencer. Please phrase your questions better.”

“Yes, Your Honor. Why did Mr. Henderson follow you to Galveston if he hadn’t been courting you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Ah. You don’t know. A married woman runs away from her husband, begins to see another man behind her husband’s back, and when her husband brings her back home, her lover follows her—”

Jesse jumped from his seat, knocking the chair over. “Objection, Your Honor. No evidence has been presented to indicate the defendant and Mrs. Smith were lovers.”

“Sustained.” The judge scowled at the district attorney “Don’t try those tricks in my courtroom, counsellor.”

“Yes, Your Honor.” Fighting a smile, the district attorney returned to his seat. “Your witness, Mr. Cochran.”

Jesse ran his palm down his face, then stood and buttoned his jacket. “Good morning, Mrs. Smith.”

Emily nodded, her heart still pounding from the last exchange. She patted her forehead with a handkerchief. At least with Jesse questioning her, it shouldn’t be that bad.

“Mrs. Smith, since Mr. Spencer decided to probe into your marriage to Mr. Smith, let me ask you a question. Why did you feel the need to get away?”

“Because I was frightened.”

“Of what?”

She wished for the floor to open up and swallow her whole. Even though she knew this would all come out in the trial, now that the time had arrived she was terrified. “My husband,” she whispered. She wiped her palms on her skirt, aware of the gasps and mumbling in the audience. The judge smacked his gavel.

“Mrs. Smith, will you tell the court why you were afraid of your husband?”

She stared at the kind man’s face. She hadn’t realized until this very moment how difficult it was going to be to speak of Louis’s behavior. For the three years she’d put up with the beatings she always felt ashamed, as if it were her fault. As if there was something wrong with her that caused the man who married her, promised to love and care for her, to beat her into unconsciousness. Surely no other woman provoked such anger in her husband.

“Mrs. Smith?” Jesse’s voice was gentle as he prodded her.

She twisted the handkerchief in her hands. “Because he, um, he beat me.” There. It was out. Her deep, dark secret. She’d said it. Memories of the police officers grinning and treating her like she was an idiot when she had told them, had heat climbing to her face. She raised her head and looked out at the observers. Disbelief on most of the men’s faces, disgust on several women’s, and at least one woman with sympathy and pain in her eyes.

The woman smiled softly and, closing her eyes briefly, dipped her head in acknowledgement.

“In three years of marriage, how many beatings would you say you received at the hands of the deceased?”

Hunter’s breathing sped up as Jesse questioned Emily. The embarrassment on her face hit him like a fist to the gut. She had nothing to be embarrassed about. All the blame and responsibility rested on the shoulders of her dead husband. How he wanted to stride up to the witness box and pull her into his arms. Assure her that she would never again be hurt.

The rest of her testimony continued on, with Jesse creating a picture of a man so evil that he used his fists on a regular basis on this delicate woman. He brought out the fear and disgust Emily had suffered at her husband’s hands over and over.

With Jesse’s gentle probing, the jury seemed to garner sympathy for her run from Galveston. There was no way of telling whether that would help his case or not. But at least it had hopefully explained why a married woman would leave her husband and lie about being single.

“One final question, Mrs. Smith, and I will let you go. While you and Mr. Henderson kept company in Guthrie, were you lovers?”

She raised her head and regarded him. “No.”

Jesse had been very clever. Based on the way he’d worded the question, either he knew, or suspected, they’d made love since Louis’s death.

“No further questions.”

The judge folded his hands on the desk and peered over his spectacles at the district attorney? “Any re-direct, counsellor?”

“No, Your Honor.”

Hunter was a bit surprised the district attorney didn’t want to qualify the lover statement. However, since the judge had already ruled against his previous question about it, most likely Mr. Spencer had decided to let it go.

“Good. Since it is Friday afternoon, we will stop here and have a shortened session. Court is adjourned for the day. We will resume Monday morning.” The judge smacked his gavel and left the courtroom.

Immediately a buzz filled the area, women whispering together, several of them casting glances at Emily as Jesse helped her from the witness box. She looked pale, shaky, and flat out drained. It took all his willpower, but he waited for them to join him at the table. Emily chewed on her lower lip, and blinked rapidly.

He had to get her away from probing eyes. She looked about to fall apart.

“Let’s go,” he said as soon as Jesse and Emily reached the table. Hunter gathered up their notes and shoved them into Jesse’s satchel. Taking Emily by the elbow, he propelled her through the crowd, hoping Jesse followed behind.

Once they stepped out into the sunshine, Hunter relaxed. Emily still looked pale as death. He glanced over his shoulder at Jesse. “I’m taking Emily back to the hotel so she can lie down. I’ll see you at supper.”

Jesse nodded and waved him on.

Luckily Hunter was able to secure a taxi automobile, and they were entering the hotel within minutes. By now Emily’s entire body shook and she swiped furtively at her eyes. Hunter wanted to ram his fist into the nearest wall.

He pulled her into the elevator and asked the operator for the third floor. The slow ride seemed to take forever, but once the door to her room closed behind them, he wrapped his arms around her. “Oh, baby. Please don’t cry. It’s over now.”

Her quiet tears turned into sobs as she clung to his jacket lapels. He rubbed her back, then picked her up and carried her to the bed. Laying her gently down, he removed his jacket, collar and tie, and crawled in alongside her, enfolding her soft body into his arms. He murmured soothing words until her sobs stopped and turned into gentle hiccups.

Hunter brushed back the locks plastered to her forehead and kissed her silky skin. “Feel better?”

She took a shuddering breath and nodded. “I need a handkerchief.”

He drew one from his pants pocket and handed it to her. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. “Sorry, I’ll wash this for you.”

He cupped her chin and turned her head to face him. Her eyes were red and swollen. The peak of her nose could light up the room. She worried her bottom lip, still taking shuddering breaths. Yet she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

And he loved her. Loved her so much his heart ached just looking at her.

“Sweetheart, you did a wonderful job today.”

“It was so hard.”

“I know. But it’s over now.” He studied her eyes as he lowered his head. Her lips were warm, soft, and sweet. He tasted the salt from her tears and swallowed her gasp. He nudged her lips open and swept in, teasing her tongue, the sides of her mouth, all the places he’d learned were sensitive.

“I want to make love to you.” His whispered words against her ear elicited a moan and a tightening of her fingers on his shirt. “I need to touch your skin, to feel your body underneath mine, hear you call my name as you shatter in my arms.”

“Yes.” She hissed the word. “I need that, too. I have to erase the ugliness. So much ugliness.”

His hand drifted up the side of her body, stopping to caress her curves and squeeze her soft bottom. Her breathing sped up as her fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. He made quick work of the fasteners on her shirtwaist, and helped her sit up to remove the garment. After she shimmied out of it, he tossed it to the floor.