Lorraine Heath (26 page)

“Can’t do that. My job is to see that justice is served, and six years ago an injustice was done that I can’t overlook.” He jerked his head to the side. “You want to talk to her?”

“No, I don’t by God want to talk to her.” He spun on his heel, stalked through the office, and slammed the door in his wake.

If he saw her, he was afraid he would tell her that by turning herself in, she had taken from him the most precious dream he’d ever held.

And what good would that knowledge do either of them?

Austin laid his sleeping son in the cradle. Three days had passed—three days without Loree—and every minute had been hell. He wanted to see her like he’d never wanted anything in his life, but he was afraid looking at her behind bars, caged like an animal, would bring him to his knees.

As quiet as a mouse, he tiptoed from the room.

“You look like hell.”

His head came up, and he glared at Houston, standing in the front doorway. “I feel like hell. You want some coffee.”

“Nope.” Houston stepped inside, his hat in his hand. “Just thought you’d want to know that the circuit judge arrived. Loree’s trial will be tomorrow.”

Austin’s stomach clenched. “Considering the fact that McQueen killed her family, maybe they’ll let her go,” he said hopefully.

“If you’d been meeting with her lawyer like the rest of the family, you’d know Boyd ain’t the one on trial here.”

He didn’t like the censure he heard in his brother’s voice. “What do you want me to do, Houston? My responsibilities didn’t go away just because my wife decided to clear her conscience. I’ve got chores to take care of along with a baby. Takes me hours to get any milk into him. Every time I go to change him, he pisses on me—”

“I knew he was smart.”

“What does that mean?”

“You told me once that if a woman loved you as much as Amelia loved me, you’d crawl through hell for her.”

“I’ve crawled through hell. I don’t recommend the journey.” The fury that had been building inside him burst through unexpectedly like a raging river. He planted his hands beneath the table and sent it crashing to its side. “And now Loree’s gonna crawl through hell. I told her I’d take care of everything.” He spun around, the anguish nearly doubling him over. “Why did she have to confess?”

He heard Grant’s startled cry and felt as though the roof would cave in on him at any moment.

“Let me get him,” Houston offered, crossing into the bedroom without waiting for an answer. Austin heard the blissful silence and wondered how long it would last. Houston came out of the bedroom, holding Grant in his arms. “Why don’t I take him home? Amelia can feed him—”

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do, Houston. I can’t stand the thought of her going to prison.”

“See if you like this thought better. Duncan has petitioned for her to hang.”

A
ustin stood inside the doorway, staring along the length of iron bars that made up the jail cells. He saw Loree in the cell at the far end, the cell in which he’d once slept, ate, and worried while awaiting his trial. He hadn’t meant to abandon her, but he realized now with startling clarity that he had.

She stood on her cot beside the brick wall, stretched up on her bare toes, hanging on to the bars of the window, and looking into the night.

“What are you doing?” he asked as he ambled toward the last cell.

She spun around and nearly toppled off the cot before catching her balance. Her eyes wide, her hand pressed just below her throat, she grabbed onto one of the iron bars and stepped off the cot onto what he knew was a cold stone floor. “I was looking for a falling star so I could make a wish.”

“What’d you wish?”

She angled her head slightly and gave him a quivering smile. “If I tell you, it won’t come true. But then it probably won’t come true anyway. I was wishing you’d forgive me.”

She looked so damn tiny standing in that cell in her yellow dress and bare feet. He furrowed his brow. “That a new dress?”

She nodded quickly. “Dee brought it over. She made Larkin take me over to the hotel so I could have a bath. He didn’t want to, but when she started shouting, he jumped. I wish I had her courage.”

He smiled slightly at a distant memory. “You should have seen her when she first married Dallas. She hid under his desk on their wedding night.”

Her eyes widened. “I can’t imagine that.”

“That’s the way it was.”

She gnawed on her lower lip. “How’s Grant?”

“Missing his ma.”

Tears brimmed in her eyes.

“He wouldn’t eat much so Houston took him to Amelia so she could nurse him.”

“I wouldn’t be able to do him any good anymore. My milk dried up … on account of the worry I

guess.”

Against his will, his gaze dropped to her breasts … and her tiny waist … and her rounded hips. How would she survive the harshness of prison?

“Why did you have to come here and confess? I told you I’d take care of it.”

“By admitting that you’d killed McQueen. Isn’t that how you took care of it? Isn’t that what you told Dallas to make him send the telegram to the detective?” Wrapping her arms around herself as though she were in pain, she spun around. He saw her narrow shoulders shaking. Even if he reached through the bars, he’d be unable to touch her.

“Loree?” he rasped.

She turned slowly, tears spilling onto her cheeks. She walked toward him, and her hands clasped the bars until her knuckles turned white. “Austin, don’t you see? You lost five years of your life because of me. If it weren’t for me, you never would have lost the music to begin with, you could have your dream of playing your violin with an orchestra. If it weren’t for me, you would be married to the woman you love.”

Tears clogged his throat and burned his eyes. Reaching through the bars, he cupped her cheek. “Loree, I
am
married to the woman I love. Have I been so poor at showing you?”

A ragged sob broke through from her chest. Austin pulled her close and felt her arms go around his back.

“Larkin!”

The sheriff ambled over and leaned against the doorway.

“Unlock the cell so I can go in.”

Larkin removed the match from between his teeth and shook his head. “Can’t do it.”

“She’s not going to escape. Just let me go inside.”

“Every time some member of your family walks in here, I’m having to bend the rules. Not this time.” He walked away.

Loree sniffed. “It’s all right, Austin.”

“No, it ain’t.”

He released his hold on her, walked to the wall, and slid down it until his backside hit the floor. Loree strolled over and did the same. He slipped his hand through the bars and wrapped it around hers.

“You scared?” he asked quietly.

“Terrified.”

A suffocating silence began to spread between them.

“Will you do me a favor?” Loree asked.

“Anything.”

“Will you think of something nice to tell Grant about me when he’s growing up? I think that’s gonna be the hardest part, having to miss watching him grow up … and watching you grow old.”

He couldn’t argue with that. He thought of all he’d missed out on—how quickly his nieces and nephew had grown and changed and become people he’d barely recognized. “I’ll tell him how much you like sugar and how sweet it made you.”

A corner of her mouth lifted momentarily, then dipped lower than before. “I want you to divorce me.”

“What?”

Her fingers tightened around his. “My lawyer thinks I’ll get at least five years, maybe more. I’ve already told him to draw up the papers so we can sign them before I go. I want you to marry someone who’ll be a good mother for Grant.”

He shifted onto one hip so he faced her squarely. “No. I’m gonna wait for you, Loree. The day you get out of prison, I’ll be standing at the gate with Grant beside me.”

She shook her head vigorously. “We both know how easy that promise is to make and how hard to keep.”

“Ten years, twenty, twenty-five. It won’t matter, Loree. I’ll wait.”

He reached through the bars, drawing her as closely as he could with the damn iron separating them, wishing he had the power to hold back the dawn.

Dawn arrived, shafts of sunlight piercing the gloom of the jail. Austin had brought Loree a meal from the hotel and watched as she nibbled on the toast he’d coated with butter, sugar, and cinnamon. He’d poured so much sugar into her coffee that the bottom of the cup felt like the silt of a river when he’d tried to stir it.

Now they stood, toe to toe, fingers intertwined, words insignificant as they waited for Sheriff Larkin. The only thing Austin found to be grateful for was the fact that Leighton now had a town hall and her trial wouldn’t be held in the saloon.

“Aunt Loree?”

Austin jerked his head around at Rawley’s hesitant voice. He felt Loree’s fingers tighten around his, and he knew she wished the boy hadn’t seen her here. “Hey, Rawley, shouldn’t you be in school?” Austin asked kindly.

Rawley took a step toward him. “Ain’t no school today on account of the trial.”

Loree looked at him as though she wished she were anywhere but where she was.

“Aunt Loree, they’re saying you killed Boyd McQueen. Did you?”

“Rawley—” Austin began, but Loree pressed her finger to his lips.

She angled her head, tears glistening within the golden depths of her eyes. “Yes, Rawley, I did.”

He removed his dusty black Stetson as though he’d just walked into church. “Then I’m obliged to you.”

Loree jerked her baffled gaze to Austin, then looked back at Rawley. “Rawley, I’m not proud of what I did.”

“Didn’t figure you were. Once Mr. D told me that there’s a difference between being good and doing bad things. Sometimes, a person does something because he don’t have a choice. He might not like what he did … but it don’t make him bad. I reckon that’s the situation you’re in, and I’ve been there myself.” He settled his hat into place. “I aim to take good care of Two-bits for you till you get home so you don’t have to fret over that.”

“I appreciate it,” Loree said softly, giving him a warm smile.

He gave her a brusque nod before walking out.

She squeezed her eyes shut. “At least McQueen will never touch our son.”

Heavy footsteps echoed outside the hallway. Larkin strolled in, twirling the key ring around his finger. “Well, it’s time.”

Austin stepped aside and Larkin jammed the key into the lock. He grated and ground it until an audible click echoed between the cells. He swung the squeaking door open. “Step out.”

Loree walked hesitantly out of the cell. Austin drew her into his arms, ignoring the scowl Larkin threw his way.

“It’s gonna be all right, Sugar.”

She nodded against his chest.

“Remember that I’ll wait, no matter how long.”

She lifted her face away from him, tears brimming in her eye. “I wish you wouldn’t.”

He gave her a warm smile and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “You were right, Sugar. If you tell me what your wish is, it won’t come true.”

He heard the clanging of chains and looked over Loree’s shoulder to see Larkin unlocking the shackles.

“Jesus, Larkin, don’t put those on her.”

“I’ve got no choice. It’s the rule.”

“Whose goddamn rule?” Austin demanded. “She turned herself in, for Christ’s sake. Show her some respect for doing that.”

Larkin rolled the match from one side of his mouth to the other. “All right,” he said reluctantly. He jerked his head to the side. “Let’s go.”

Loree took a step forward, halted, and glanced over her shoulder. Austin shook his head. “I can’t go, Loree.”

She gave him a smile filled with sympathy and understanding. “I know.”

She angled her chin proudly, squared her shoulders, and followed Larkin down the hallway and into the front office. He waited until he heard the front door close before he gave into the pain. His agonizing wail echoed between the empty cells. He pounded on the brick wall until his knuckles were scraped raw and bleeding.

Somehow, in spite of all she had endured, Loree had managed to maintain an aura of innocence and sweetness. Prison would do what Boyd McQueen had been unable to do: It would kill her spirit and rip every shred of kindness from her.

He slammed his palm flat against the wall and pain ricocheted up his arm. Even knowing the hell that waited, he’d gladly go to prison in her place.

Loree decided it wasn’t a trial, but more of a hearing. People got to hear her say how she’d killed Boyd McQueen. They got to hear Duncan demand that she hang for killing his brother. And they got to hear her lawyer ask for leniency because she’d confessed.

And now Judge Wisser was pondering her fate, although it looked to her like he’d fallen asleep, his hands crossed over his stomach, his lips pursed, his eyes closed. Only the flies in the crowded room dared to make a sound.

She was glad that Austin hadn’t come with her. She thought she could accept hearing her sentence with dignity as long as she didn’t have to see how much her going to prison would hurt him.

Judge Wisser popped his eyes open and leaned forward. “Loree Leigh, it is the decision of this court that you are indeed guilty. Do you have anything to say on your behalf before I pronounce your sentence?”

Loree’s mouth went as dry as the parched earth, and her heart was pounding so hard against her ribs that she was certain they would crack. She could do little more than shake her head.

“Very well, then. In light of the circumstances—”

“I’ve got something to say.”

Loree twisted around. Austin walked down the aisle between the bench seats, a purpose to his stride, while people craned their necks to see around each other, whispering and muttering.

“Six years ago you sent me to prison for a murder I didn’t commit.”

“An injustice I intend to set right today …”

“You can’t set it right,” Austin told him. “No matter what you do, you can’t undo what you’ve already done. I lived in hell for five years, not because of Loree, but because of Boyd McQueen. He was a mean-spirited man who hurt children for the pleasure of it. She listened to the screams of her fourteen-year-old brother while McQueen tortured him. Then she had to watch while he hanged him. McQueen shot her, her mother, and her father. He paid a man to kill my brother, slit the throats of three men on the prairie—”

“You can’t prove that!” Duncan roared.

Austin spun around. “Then who did it, Duncan? You? Cooper told Dee that her brother paid him to kill Dallas. If it wasn’t Boyd, then it had to be you because I damn sure know it wasn’t Cameron.”

Duncan paled and dropped back into his chair. “It wasn’t me.”

Austin turned back to the judge. “I know we can’t take the law into our own hands. I’m not saying Loree should have gone after Boyd, but I know the man isn’t worth all our worry. An injustice was carried out here six years ago. Don’t worsen it today by seeking justice for a man who didn’t know the meaning of the word.

“I gave up five years of my life for his murder. Let those years serve as Loree’s and if that’s not enough then send me back to prison—”

Loree jumped to her feet. “No!”

“Duncan wants somebody to hang, then hang me—”

“No!” Loree cried.

“Because by God if you take her from me now I’m gonna die anyway—and where’s the justice in that?”

Loree had never been so terrified in her whole life because it looked to her as though the judge was seriously contemplating what Austin had just said.

Judge Wisser sliced his gaze over to her. “Loree Leigh, I sentence you to life …”

Austin slammed his eyes closed, bowed his head, and clenched his fists.

“With this man.”

Austin jerked his head up.

“May God have mercy on your soul.” Judge Wisser slammed his gavel down. “This court is adjourned.”

The courtroom erupted with shouts and cheers. Loree looked at her lawyer. He smiled and nudged her arm. “Go on. You’re free.”

She turned and found Austin waiting for her. He spread his arms wide and she fell against him, entwining her arms around his neck. He enfolded her in his embrace.

“Ah, Loree,” he whispered near her ear. “You should hear the music.”

Exhausted, Loree sank into the steaming hot water. The day had been spent enjoying her freedom: feeling the breeze blow over her face, listening to each of the children tell her how much they’d missed her, holding Grant close, enjoying the warmth of Austin’s hand wrapped around hers.

And now they were home, and he was rubbing the soap filled cloth over her limp arm.

“You don’t have to wash me,” she said softly although she wasn’t certain she had the strength to do it herself. She hadn’t slept at all after she’d turned herself into Sheriff Larkin.

“I want to.”

He stroked the cloth slowly over the curve of her breasts.

“Dr. Freeman said if I let Grant suckle, my milk might come back.” Her eyes drifted closed. “I’d like that.”

“Then I hope it happens.”