Firefly (54 page)

Morgan waited patiently while Wilhelm answered first.

"My daughter is in no condition to appear in public and give testimony," he spouted, full of self-confidence.

"As the only licensed physician in this town, I have seen no evidence that Miss Hollstrom is in any way incapacitated," Morgan then replied with unruffled calm.  "When last I saw her, she was uninjured and in perfect health both physically and mentally.  I have not, however, examined her since the charges were brought against me."

Ted Phillips gave a thumbs up to that speech, but Morgan did not acknowledge the gesture.

Judge Booth raised the gavel again, as if anticipating an outburst.  When there was none, he laid the instrument down and said calmly, "Then I order Mr. Hollstrom to bring his daughter to the courtroom.  Will thirty minutes be enough time, or do you live at some distance?"

Morgan resisted the temptation to watch Hollstrom's reaction and instead kept his gaze on the judge.  But Wilhelm's anger was almost a tangible essence, a smoldering heat ready to explode.  As though the gathered citizens of Plato felt it, too, they waited quietly under the crystal chandeliers for Wilhelm's answer.

"Half an hour will be sufficient," he grumblingly acknowledged.

"Fine.  Mr. Phillips, you and a deputy will accompany Mr. Hollstrom.  Court is recessed until ten-twenty-five."

*   *   *

Katharine lamented her appearance but wasted no real time bemoaning the absence of brush and comb.  Wilhelm had brought the women a pitcher of cold water, nothing else, before he left for the courtroom.

"All right, Julie, now will you go out the window?  At least then you can open the back door and let me out of this room.  We'll get your clothes so you'll be properly dressed when you march into that courtroom and tell them the truth."

Julie, stiff from sleeping on the floor, shook her head slowly.

"No, Mama, I'm going to wait right here."

"But don't you see?  You could be here forever! He may
never
let you out!  How can you save Dr. Morgan unless you tell the judge what really happened? You love the man, don't you?"

"Yes, I think so."

"And he loves you?"

"He told me he did."

"Then you had better help me with these sheets and get downstairs before it's too late."

But they were already too late, as the sound of masculine voices and heavy footsteps told them.  Julie sighed, relieved she had not had to argue further.  She did not want to be forced to tell her mother the true reason behind her decision.  One night of confession might have been good for Katharine's soul, but it was not enough to make up for nine years of mistrust.  Julie would keep her own counsel at least a little longer.

When Wilhelm unbolted and opened the door, Julie experienced a small flush of satisfaction.  Her tactic had worked, at least in part.  Ted Phillips, standing just behind Wilhelm, wore a look of shocked disapproval when he saw Julie wearing just the thin shift.  He turned his head away politely, though she had shown him no embarrassment and made no attempt even to shield her scantily clad body from his view.

"You have fifteen minutes," Wilhelm told her.  "Dress, or I'll--"

The marshal's voice interrupted.

"The judge says you gotta come, Miss Julie," he said, keeping his eyes averted.  "Del--Dr. Morgan--says he wants to be confronted by his accuser."

"I've accused him of nothing," she answered.  "It is my father who made the charges, not I."

"Well, it's got somethin' to do with producin' a victim.  Anyway, the judge says you gotta come."

Katharine, still facing Julie and with her back to the door, silently reiterated her plea.

"Go," she mouth sternly.  "Tell them the truth."

Julie thought for a moment, then walked toward the marshal, who had somehow eased his bulk between the door and Wilhelm.

"All right, I'll go.  But I expect you to testify, Mr. Phillips, that I do so under duress."

Ted shook his head as though he weren't quite sure what the word meant, but he understood her meaning.

"Okay, Miss Julie.  Mr. Hollstrom, you give her them clothes and then we'll go downstairs.  If it takes her a little longer, then we'll just let the judge wait."

In maneuvering himself past Wilhelm again, Phillips pushed the door further open and revealed to Julie the other two men who had accompanied him.  One she vaguely recognized as a local man though she couldn't recall his name.  The other was Hans, his face a mask of fury.  He waited until the others had left and then spoke to Julie in a low, heated whisper.

"He is guilty, Julie," he warned in such a way that she could not mistake his meaning.  "If you want him alive, you will accuse him just like your papa said.  Otherwise I will kill him.  I swear it."

Then he pulled the door shut and followed the others down the stairs.

She walked to the clothes Wilhelm had laid on the dresser.  To her relief he had brought the blue calico, not the batiste blouse.  Her shoes and stockings were there as well as her comb and brush.

"Mama, I want you to listen to me." She pulled on pantalettes, then wriggled out of the shift before slipping a camisole over her head.  "I'm going to tell them the truth, all of it."

"But...but you heard what Hans just said.  Oh, damn him!  If it weren't for him, I'd agree with you.  It's what I've been telling you to do all along, but now, under the circumstances...."

"No, Mama, I have to do it.  And it's not just because of what you said earlier."

She tucked her petticoat into the dress and then slipped her arms into the sleeves.  "Here, Mama, can you get these buttons?"

"Well, I was wrong.  Oh, dear, my fingers won't hold still."  Katharine fumbled with the buttons.  "It's better, don't you think, to keep him alive?  I feel quite positive that Hans meant what he said."

"I'm sure he did, Mama, but I don't intend to let him get away with his threats any more."

Unlike her mother's, Julie's fingers were steady and sure while she began to brush her hair over one shoulder.  She remembered how Del had run his fingers through it and she wanted to leave it loose for him to see, but she knew there were other, more important considerations.  She quickly braided the long hank of pale gold hair and then wrapped it into a tight coil just above the top button of her dress.  When she had inserted the last securing pin, she took a pair of stockings and sat on the end of the bed to pull them on.

"And just how are you going to stop him? He hasn't left you much of a choice."

"Actually, he hasn't left me any choice at all.  That's why I have to do this."

She tied her shoes firmly and then stood up.

"Are you ready, Mama?"

*   *   *

The courtroom buzzed with muted conversation that subsided the instant Ted Phillips strode through the open door from the hotel lobby.  Aware that every eye was on her, Julie hung back for a brief second, but she regained her courage even before Lucas Carter prodded her with a bony finger in the small of her back.

"You can't get out, Miss Julie," he drawled.  "Me 'n' Skip's gonna be sittin' on the porch, and no prisoners leaves without the marshal's say-so."  He patted the gun at his hip for emphasis.  "Now, you just walk up there where the marshal's waitin'."

She moved, slowly at first, then more determinedly, past all those leering, accusing eyes.  Not a whisper reached her ears, but she knew the words were in their minds.  Harlot.  Wanton.  Fallen woman.  Somehow she didn't care.  All that mattered was the man she had spent one wonderful night of her life with.  It would not, she vowed, be the last.

Yet she did not look at Morgan when she reached the front of the room.  She kept her eyes on the judge.  The man's eyes, narrowed under black brows, fastened brutally on her as she approached the banquet table behind which he sat.

"Swear the witness in, Mr. Phillips," he ordered.

Ted took the worn Bible from the table and held it in front of Julie.  She lifted her hands almost mechanically, placing her left on the cracked leather cover of the Bible and raising her right palm to face the marshal.

Tears welled in her eyes as she murmured "I do" when Phillips had muttered the familiar oath.  She couldn't help but think of other vows to which the same two words could have and should have been replied.

"Please be seated, Miss Hollstrom."

She let Phillips lead her to the chair provided for witnesses and sat down slowly.

Then she saw Morgan for the first time since kissing him good-bye in the freshness of dawn.  She could read nothing in his expression; even his green eyes seemed black and lifeless.  He betrayed no emotion and gave her no hint of what he expected from her in return.

She wanted to cry, to run to him and beg for his forgiveness, but the idea of his cold rejection kept her seated, twisting a fold of her skirt around her finger.  Even when she met his eyes and stared boldly, unwaveringly, she found no response.

"Miss Hollstrom," the judge began in a gentle voice that did not fit his image.  "I am not going to question you now.  I merely want to clarify the charges against the accused.  Do you understand that?"

"I believe I do, Your Honor."

"Fine.  Now, please speak loudly enough for the jury to hear you.  I don't care if the rabble in the back row can hear or not, but it is important that those men over there hear every word clearly."

"Yes, Your Honor."

Despite her resolve, Julie could not hide her nervousness.  Her lips were dry; she kept licking them with the tip of her tongue.  Her hands perspired so that she had to wipe them repeatedly on her skirt.  Though the crowded ballroom was hot, it was not the August heat that brought beads of sweat to her forehead.

"Then we'll begin.  Do you confirm the charges brought against Delbert R. Morgan, M.D., by Wilhelm Hollstrom, that Dr. Morgan had unlawful and forcible sexual congress with you on the night of July thirty-first?"

She glanced only briefly at the judge, then turned her attention fully to Morgan.  He sat without moving a muscle, not looking at her.  She struggled by sheer force of will to draw his gaze, needing his encouragement, some sign of his love, but he continued to stare to her left, at the velvet-curtained window that faced the alley between the hotel and the general store.

How beautiful that night had been! she recalled in the split second before giving her answer.  How beautiful she had felt, letting him love her until they slept in satiated exhaustion.  He had even told her she was beautiful.  And he had told her he loved her.  He had asked her to marry him.  She could not deny that love.  If it had been hers only for a brief moment, for a single precious night, she could not now deny it.  Though it branded her for life, she would proclaim it loudly.

"No, Your Honor, it is not true at all."

A breathless cry of surprise went up from the audience at her clearly voiced declaration, but that was not what Julie noticed.  She heard only one man's quiet gasp.  At last Morgan looked at her, and his eyes were clear now, brilliantly sparkling as he tried to hide a smile.