Deborah Camp (25 page)

“This is me you’re talking to, Regina.” He captured her chin and brought her gaze up to his and then his gaze slipped to her mouth. “You’ve been very good to me.”

“But I’ve never trusted you, and I’m glad for that.” Regina lifted her chin from the shelf made by his finger and thumb. “As you proved to be untrustworthy, I have nothing more to say to you.”

“Has Jack been around here?” He pulled a piece of grass from her blond hair.

“Did you hear me? I don’t want to talk to you.” She tossed her head and her hair settled over her shoulders.

“I didn’t know that you had read my mother’s articles. There was no reason for me to tell you about her.”

Her eyes were stormy gray, but cleared after a few moments. “You should have told me about her, Theodore. I admire your mother so much. She’s the reason I’m here. Her articles made me see that I could accomplish so much, be so much more than just a singer for some drunks. She saved me from becoming a pillow friend for whichever man came up with the most money.”

Theo pressed a finger to her lips, not wanting to hear more of such talk. He couldn’t bear the thought of her selling herself.

She swallowed with difficulty and moved her mouth away from his finger. “Why can’t you be
more like her? Why do you have to ruin everything?”

“I ruined everything because I’m my mother’s son?”

“No.” She stamped one foot. “Because you’re going to court soon. That will ruin all our good work. Your mother’s good work, too! We can’t afford to pay a big fine, Theo. Don’t you understand that we’re living hand-to-mouth here?”

He gritted his teeth and stared up at the fleecy clouds. “Regina, don’t you understand that this is my job? My feelings for you and my mother are separate from my work. Can’t you get that through that hard head of yours?”

“What I can’t get is why you’d set yourself against your mother. You didn’t know me when you took this case, but you knew that your mother and Mrs. Nation were fighting the same battles.” She lifted her hands and let them fall back against her skirt in a gesture of hopelessness. “You refuse to change or grow or even bend a little. I don’t know how you can be around your mother and not be inspired by her.”

He caught her hand. “You inspire me. I might change for you, sweet Rosy. I might move heaven and earth for you.” A little shock of alarm went through him. God help him, he meant it! This woman … this infuriating, impossible, confusing woman had somehow enchanted him, blinded him to other women’s charms and favors, made him want to be her everything.

Her eyes filled with tears and she shook her head. “No, I can’t.”

“Regina, after the court case, there will still be you and me and this attraction we have between us. What are we going to do about that?”

“Nothing.” Her mouth twisted out of shape and
she tried to turn away from him, but Theo pulled her closer and his mouth sought hers.

Her lips were warm, but unresponsive. He kissed her eyelids, her nose, her flushed cheeks. She kept her eyes closed and he examined her every feature, loving the shape of her eyes, her short-bridged nose, the dimples that bracketed her mouth. He ran his hands down her arms, kneading her giving flesh, capturing her delicately boned hands.

“Regina, you like being with me. I know you do. Remember the cotillion? Ah, honey, you were so beautiful. Regina, I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.”

She opened her eyes and tears stood in them. “I can’t … be with you.”

He ground his teeth together, sensing impending defeat. “Why not?”

Sadness trembled on her mouth and sent the tears spilling down her cheeks. “That you have to ask is an answer in itself.” With an effort, she disengaged herself from his clutching hands and went inside.

Theo slammed his eyes shut against the bright day. Damn it all, he’d be glad when the trial was over and no longer wedged between them. He marched around to the front of the house, cussing a blue streak and wishing to hell he’d never met Tom Wilson.

D
uring a recess, Theo turned and looked at the packed courtroom. The circus didn’t draw this kind of crowd, he thought, catching sight of many people he knew, many he didn’t. Beside him, Tom Wilson tapped his feet, drummed his fingers on the desk. The women staying at Mrs. Nation’s house sat in the front row. Regina never glanced Theo’s way, and he was glad. He needed to keep his mind on business and not on the sheen of her hair or the attractive way she’d braided it, making a crown of it on top of her head.

“How’d I do?” Tom asked, elbowing Theo.

“Fine.” Theo faced front again. The judge hadn’t returned from chambers.

“People were laughing.”

“They weren’t laughing at you, but at the situation. It’s not every day that a woman barges into a saloon and takes an ax to the bar.” He glanced at Tom’s thunderous frown. “Take it easy, will you? This isn’t a murder trial.”

“What’s that mean? You think I’m out for blood or something? I don’t want to hurt Mrs. Nation none. I just want justice. Mostly, I don’t want her coming into my place again. I can’t have that. It’ll drive my customers away.”

“Drive them away? Seems to me your business
has picked up since that night. I think they’re hoping she’ll come back and they can see her in action.”

“Well, I hope she don’t,” Tom grumbled, then fell silent for a minute. “You know what, business has been mighty good. I hadn’t given it much thought until you mentioned it, but you’re right.” He smoothed his mustache with a finger and thumb. “People are right peculiar, if you ask me. They fuss about that old gal, but they kinda like her, too.” He leaned forward to see past Theo and study Mrs. Nation. He frowned. “But that new bar cost me plenty.”

“And she’ll pay for it,” Theo assured him. “If she can’t come up with the money, I’ll see that she works it off.”

“Works it off?”

“Yes. It won’t serve any purpose to have her thrown in jail. In fact, the townspeople will think you’re no better than a slop bucket if you do that. I hear she has very little money, so that leaves labor.”

“Work … labor where?”

Theo met his worried gaze and struggled to keep from grinning. “Your place, of course.”

“Uh-uh!” Tom nearly dislocated his neck by shaking his head. “Not my place. I don’t want her nowhere near my place, Theo. That’s why I’m goin’ through this here court.”

“Well, Tom, I don’t know what to say….” Theo let his voice drop and fixed a vexed look on his face. “I suppose we’ll insist that she be taken to jail then.”

“Why can’t we insist that she pay for my new bar?”

“Because, Tom, she very likely doesn’t have the money. You can’t get blood from a turnip.”

Tom huffed out an agitated sigh, then swung his
face around to Theo. “What about your mama? Doesn’t she have some money she could loan Mrs. Nation?”

Anger flashed through him. He knew his face reflected it when Tom paled. “If she does, it’s not my place or yours to ask her for it. This is between you and Mrs. Nation. Let’s leave my mother out of it.”

“She’s gonna get up there and sing that woman’s praises, isn’t she?” Tom demanded. “Then she ought to cough up some money to help her out of this fix. We’re gonna win, right, Theo?”

“Yes, Tom. The judge and jury would have to be dunces to let Mrs. Nation off without a fine.”

The door to the judge’s chambers opened and the black-robed Judge Langarten emerged. Theo swayed closer to his client to give him one more bone to chew.

“It’ll be up to the jury to determine damages, but you ought to be ready to compromise, Tom. Sending Mrs. Nation to jail won’t win you many friends. Think about it.”

“I don’t want her working for me,” Tom whispered back, almost hissing. “I know that for damn sure.”

“Hear ye, hear ye, all rise and come to order. This court is again in session with the Honorable Judge Claude T. Langarten presiding,” the bailiff intoned.

Judge Langarten sat behind the desk placed on a dais and looked above his half-moon glasses at the courtroom. “Be seated. The prosecution has rested. Is the defense ready to call its witnesses?”

“Yes, sir,” Morton Potter said, surging to his feet. “The defense calls as its first witness Mrs. Theodora Beatrice Dane.” His piggish eyes found Theo and he grinned. “She’s the prosecutor’s mother.”

Gasps and murmurs erupted in the gallery and Judge Langarten pounded his gavel several times to restore order.

“Enough of that. Mr. Potter, we don’t need a family history of every witness. Just question your witness and let’s get on with it.”

“Yes, Your Honor.” Potter mopped his brow with a damp handkerchief while Bea was sworn in, then he approached her with trepidation. “How do, Mrs. Dane? You are the mother of the prosecutor, are you not?”

“Objection,” Theo drawled, thinking that Potter was the biggest buffoon to ever pass the Bar. Before Carmichael and Dane set up practice in Eureka Springs, court must have been as orderly as a barrel of monkeys.

“Sustained,” Judge Langarten ruled. “Get on with it, Mr. Potter. You’re trying my patience.”

Potter jerked at his waistcoat and looked peeved. “Yes, sir.” He cleared his throat importantly. “Mrs. Dane, you’re acquainted with the defendant?”

“Yes, I am,” Bea answered in a clear, confident tone. “I’m proud to call her my friend.”

“The defense asks that you shed light on the character of Mrs. Carry Nation. Would you say that she is a good woman, a giving woman?”

“Certainly. She’s totally selfless.”

“Do you think she’s unstable?”

“No. I think she’s brilliant.” Bea confronted the courtroom giggles with a frosty glare. “She has the same courage as Joan of Arc. When she sees injustices, she doesn’t hide her eyes, she confronts them and challenges them. Mrs. Nation is a crusader in the best sense of the word.”

“Then she’d have a good reason to, say, chop up a bar in a saloon?”

Theo propped an elbow on the edge of the desk
and pressed the lower half of his face into his palm to hide his grin. What an incompetent! Why, he could make mincemeat of his mother in the cross-examination. Uneasiness stole through him, robbing him of his jubilation.

“Mrs. Nation has tried everything to make people listen to reason,” Bea explained. “She isn’t a violent woman. You know the old story about the farmer taking up a stick of wood and hitting his mule between the ears with it just to get his attention? Well, that’s what Mrs. Nation was doing that evening. She was getting their attention, that’s all.”

Potter turned and smiled confidently at the jury, then at the gallery. “Thank you, kind madam.” He bowed toward Theo. “Your witness.”

Theo felt his mouth drop open. That’s it? he wondered, then looked at his mother, whose shocked expression mirrored his own. Someone needed to take a board and hit Potter between the ears. Bea Dane was a key witness and he’d wasted her. For a fleeting moment, Theo thought to dismiss his mother without questioning her, but the professional side of him forbade such poor judgment. He was being paid to win, not to coddle his mother on the witness stand.

Rising from his chair, Theo smiled at the woman who had taught him about love and life. “Mrs. Dane, you came here from Kansas to speak on behalf of Mrs. Nation?”

“Yes, I did. I wouldn’t have passed up the chance.”

Theo nodded and pretended to refer to some notations among the papers on the desk. “And how long have you known Mrs. Nation?”

“I’ve read her writings since—”

“Excuse me, Mrs. Dane,” he interrupted, keeping his voice friendly but firm. “I didn’t ask how
long you’ve known
of
her, but how long you’ve actually known
her
. When did you meet her in person?”

Bea pursed her lips and her eyes reflected her irritation with him. “Two weeks ago.”

“Two weeks ago,” Theo repeated for the jury’s benefit. “You’ve known her only two weeks. Not a very long time, is it?”

“I’ve been familiar with her writings for—”

“Thank you, Mrs. Dane. That will be all.”

“I know her through her writings and I—”

“You’re dismissed, Mrs. Dane,” Theo said, relishing having the last word with his mother for once in his life. “We have no further questions for this witness, Judge Langarten.”

Judge Langarten peered over his glasses at Potter, who was in deep conversation with Sheriff Stu. “Mr. Potter, redress?”

“Uh, what did you say, Judge?” Potter asked, pulling away from Stu.

“Do you want to question your witness again?”

“No. No more questions.”

Judge Langarten traded incredulous glances with Theo. “Mrs. Dane, you seem to be excused. Thank you for your time.”

“But I wanted to talk about—”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Dane,” the judge said. “You’ve been dismissed. Mr. Potter, let’s have your next witness.”

As his mother approached, Theo opened the gate for her to enter the gallery. He squeezed her hand as she went past him. She shook her head in a way that spoke of her bafflement and disappointment. Theo shrugged in answer. When he sat back down, Eric clamped a hand on his shoulder from behind.

“Good work, Theo.”

“Any ten-year-old could have done the same,”
he said out of the side of his mouth. “Potter is handing this to me on a platter.”

“Morton Potter don’t strike me as being very smart,” Tom said, joining the whispered conversation. “Does he you?”

“No, no, he doesn’t,” Eric said, chuckling. “It’s hard to believe that he’s well thought of in this town.”

“We didn’t have much to brag about where lawyers were concerned until you two put out your shingle,” Tom said. “Course, there hasn’t been much use for lawyers either. We’re pretty good at handling our own affairs.”

Theo contemplated that, and wondered if Tom might have handled his dispute with Mrs. Nation without court interference if he and Eric hadn’t come to town. New attorneys—especially ones who have made a name for themselves in bigger cities—usually started people to thinking about lawsuits and the notoriety of jury trials. If he and Eric hadn’t been around, would Tom have scolded Mrs. Nation, received her apology, and forgotten the whole incident?