Rue Allyn (22 page)

“Mr. Alvarez has related to me some very convincing details about the attack on Marshal Quinn and Miss Alden in the Wind River mountains and the reasons for falsely accusing her of these crimes.”

“Stuff and nonsense! Marshal Quinn presented that faradiddle during his testimony. His tall tale was refuted on every point.”

“By a witness proven to be a perjurer,” stated Boyd.

“By a witness who was killed under suspicious circumstances before he was able to offer further testimony and in person discredit the marshal’s deluded statements,” countered Richter.

The colonel looked taken aback. “Is this true, Mr. Alvarez?”

Boyd’s expression became grim. “It is true that the perjured witness, Davis, was killed during a gunfight before he could be recalled to the stand. That doesn’t make his testimony any less false. Even the complainant, Big Si Van Demer — the man who shot Davis — agreed that testimony was lies.”

“Nonsense … ”

Colonel Brackett waved the judge to silence. “Obviously there is enough doubt surrounding this trial and Miss Alden’s conviction to … ”

Pounding sounded on the closed doors.

Kiera’s gaze followed the look Colonel Brackett cast toward the back of the room. “Corporal, find out what that commotion is all about.”

One of the soldiers slipped out the door. He returned moments later. “Marshal Evrett Quinn and Miss Elise Van Demer wish to enter. They claim to have evidence pertaining to Miss Alden’s trial.”

“Let them in,” ordered the Colonel. “If they can help to clear things up, so much the better.”

Miss Van Demer entered, stopping beside Colonel Brackett. Ev followed; he carried Kiera’s battered leather packet of photographs. He positioned himself so he could speak to the colonel but keep his eyes fixed on Kiera. His smiling glance met hers, and instantly her heart steadied. She’d accept whatever fate offered now that she could see Ev.

“As I was saying,” stated the colonel, “sufficient question surrounds this trial and Miss Alden’s conviction to warrant a new trial at the very least.”

“Can’t do that,” exclaimed Judge Richter. “She’s already been convicted.”

“If a mistrial is declared, a new trial is possible.”

“I’m judge in this district, and I won’t declare a mistrial.”

“As the ranking governmental authority in this district, I will declare a mistrial and relieve you of your judicial duties for the duration.”

“Excuse me, Colonel,” Ev’s voice was calm and strong. “Miss Van Demer and I have evidence that may eliminate the necessity for any retrial.”

“By all means, then, present your evidence.”

“Yesterday after the jury was dismissed, I returned to my hotel room to find Miss Van Demer waiting for me. She had this packet of photographs with her. The photographs are images of the horses supposedly stolen by Miss Alden and prove conclusively that the horses belonged to her friend Muh’Weda of the Wind River Shoshone, as he is standing with the horses in several of the pictures. The photographs were made by Miss Alden about a year ago, at least six months before the horses suddenly appeared on Big Si Van Demer’s ranch.” He gave the packet to Colonel Brackett.

The colonel removed the photographs and paged through them.

“Miss Van Demer,” he said. “Can you confirm that the animals pictured in these photographs are the same horses your father claimed were stolen by Miss Alden?”

“Yes, sir. I can also testify you that the person who shot Sheriff Sam Boswell is my father, because I saw him do it. I also saw him talking with Judge Richter and heard them discuss bribes that my father had given the judge and the prosecuting attorney to guarantee that Miss Alden was found guilty and sentenced to hang.”

“You realize the seriousness of these statements?” asked the colonel. “If convicted, the judge and prosecutor would certainly go to prison. Your father could be sent to prison or hung.”

“That would be up to a judge and jury, Colonel. However, Miss Alden should not be required to pay for my father’s sins, nor should Judge Richter and the prosecutor profit from such a miscarriage of justice.”

“Do you have any evidence to support your statements, Miss Van Demer?”

“Why else would my father bribe the judge and the prosecutor to make certain that Miss Alden was convicted and hung?”

The colonel looked at the judge. “Is this true?”

“Ye … No, of course not.”

“Hmm,” muttered the colonel. “Why do I have my doubts? Sergeant, take Judge Richter into custody, and send men to the hotel to escort Mr. Van Demer to this building.”

“Yes, sir.”

Immediately, four soldiers surrounded the judge while four others left for the hotel.

“You can’t do this! I’m innocent, I tell you.”

“If you know what’s good for you, Judge, you’ll keep quiet.”

The judge fell silent.

“Excuse me, Colonel, Miss Alden could not possibly have shot Sheriff Boswell,” interjected Ev and Muh’Weda almost in unison.

The Colonel raised both brows. “Why not?”

Eyes full of love and lips tilted up, Ev looked at Kiera, “Because she can’t hit any target farther away than three feet.”

“In addition, she was with me at the Van Demer corral.”

The colonel ignored Muh’Weda. “Can you prove that business about firing a weapon?”

“Only if you’re willing to accept a demonstration,” replied Ev.

“What would keep her from deliberately missing the target?”

“Well, you could repeat the test several times and under different circumstances, but I think you’ll be convinced with the first try.”

“All right. Let’s take this outside to a safe place.”

As one, the crowd left the building and re-assembled behind Kiera near the stable at the far end of town. Muh’Weda marked a target on the side of the stable while the stable hand moved the horses to safety. Then her friend went to join Kiera, Colonel Brackett, Boyd, and Ev who stood about four feet away, facing the target.

“Since I’m certain my pistol shoots true, I want Miss Alden to use it.” The colonel pulled his revolver from his holster and handed it to Kiera.

The men stepped back. Kiera took up a firing position, facing the target. The gun gripped in both hands, she raised the weapon to shoulder height. As had happened on every occasion since that horrifying night in San Francisco, her hands began to shake. Her fingers twitched at the memory of the loud bang that came when Madam Duval’s finger had pressed down on Kiera’s and the gun had fired. The same chill washed over her that had flooded her when she saw the blood trickle from the hole in Herbert’s forehead and he’d fallen over dead.

Kiera’s grip on the pistol butt tightened as her mind’s eye saw Herbert bleeding at her feet. Her thumb slipped off the safety three times before she managed to cock the revolver. Remembered scents — acrid smoke, metallic blood, exotic perfume — attacked her. Her entire body tensed, and breath clogged her throat. In total panic she finally fired the gun.

The shot went wide and high. Her arms dropped, and the pistol fell from her hands as tremors moved up her limbs to occupy her entire body.

Ev’s strong arm came around her. His heat encompassed her, chasing away the chill she’d been shaking too hard to feel. Her heart rate settled.

Beside her, Colonel Brackett bent and retrieved his revolver. “I’ll be damned. Pardon me, miss. I’ve never seen anything like that in my life. I doubt very much that anyone could fake such fear.”

Kiera waited for the colonel to ask why she couldn’t steady herself. Waited for his decision to arrest her again and send her to San Francisco to be tried for a murder she’d been too deep in shock to prevent. She should have known she couldn’t escape, that not even the truth would free her from the past.

“Me neither,” Ev spoke over her head. “Least ways not until the first time I saw Kiera try to fire a gun.”

“Miss Alden. I believe you’ve proven your innocence sufficiently. I officially declare this a mistrial and will publish announcements of your innocence along with notice of the new suspects.”

Kiera raised her head. “Thank you Colonel.”

“C’mon Kiera. Let’s go back to the hotel. I want to talk to you in private.”

Ev was looking down at her in a way that indicated he had more than talking in mind. She grinned. “By all means.”

“Muh’Weda, Boyd, do that favor I asked, and we’ll see you tomorrow.” Ev swept her away before any more words could be exchanged.

Van Demer passed them on the way, but surrounded by his escort, he didn’t speak.

• • •

“I’ve wanted to get you alone and keep you there since the moment I first saw you.” He closed the door of his hotel room, locking it behind him.

Kiera studied his face as Ev reached for the buttons on her shirtwaist. The light in his honey brown eyes mirrored the joy in her heart at being free, at being with him.

“You did not,” she teased. “You wanted me in chains. Manacled and hobbled, so you could control me until you could get rid of me.”

“Hmm,” he mused as his fingers spread the open plackets of her shirt, tracing the aureoles that she knew showed through her chemise’s thin lawn. “Doing my job doesn’t mean I didn’t want you. ‘Sides, you gotta admit, you were a bit of a wildcat at our first close encounter. Since I plan on encountering you real close, manacles might be a good idea right about now, but hobbles would just get in the way.”

She would have smiled, but he chose that moment to flick her nipples to aching life. “Ohh.”

“Yeah, ohh.” His gentle growl purred against her lips just before he plundered her mouth with devastating skill.

The world swayed. A maelstrom of sensations spread through her. He seemed to touch her everywhere at once. The whirlwind started and ended with his mouth, and only his arms kept her anchored to sensation-dizzied reality.

When he lifted away, deprivation made her want to beg. She found herself on the bed, naked and turned a pleading gaze to him. “Plea … se … ”

He tossed away the last of his clothing as she stuttered to silence. His raw beauty strangled her words, but it was the emotion in his eyes that stole her breath. Could he possibly feel so much for her? Her heart spilled over with love for Evrett Quinn. What he felt for her didn’t matter. She would love him for as long as she lived, even if she had to let him go.

She raised her arms in welcome.

Wordless, he lowered himself to her, kissing her cheeks, her nose her eyelids, and finally her mouth. Her hands worshipped his body — memorizing every shape, imprinting every texture, savoring every taste and scent. This much she would have always.

Desire writhed in her belly, momentarily satisfied only when his hips settled between her thighs. She wanted him inside her, pounding into her, compelling her response.

But he only teased, stroking her liquid hot seam with his erection, nudging open her slick swollen folds, torturing her throbbing nub.

Her hands found his buttocks, pressed, squeezed, tugged.

He refused to be moved. He nuzzled each breast then suckled her into raging madness to have him fill her.

She would not be denied this last pleasure. Tilting her hips, she impaled herself and prompted a heart clutching thrust from him. He groaned and thrust again and again and again. Each plunge pulled her higher into the madness, each pull dragged her deeper into a longing to be with him. Her body answered his.

Twisting, lifting, caressing, she brought him closer and deeper. His thrusts came faster, harder. She lost all sense of the world. There was only Ev. There would always be only Ev.

He filled her gaze, her body, her heart.

“Say my name, Kiera.” It was a plea and a song.

“Ev, Ev, Ev … ” she sang in response, until response became a soul deep scream of joy.

Somewhere, far from the bed and their joined bodies, Kiera sailed with Ev in a heaven of ecstasy — a delight so blissful it must be eternity.

But eternity was short lived. Too soon she became aware of his weight as he shifted from her, his breath as it slowed, his warmth as it soothed. She battled despair to grip the feelings, sensations, love until the moment when they faded to memory.

“I love you, Kiera Alden. Please, marry me?

Knowing he asked the impossible, she believed him. In these minutes of shared passion, he would of course lay claim to that deepest of emotions. As much as he felt, she was certain he didn’t mean the words. His background had convinced him he couldn’t settle down. A few bouts of lovemaking wouldn’t really change that. Would it?

She studied him for long moments, wondering if he was ready to put down roots, raise a family, grow old together, and knowing that she couldn’t ask him to give up his work. Neither would she give up her dreams of a home, even if it didn’t include a family. “I can’t, won’t, wander with you.”

She cast her eyes downward.

His finger beneath her chin urged her back to look him in the face. He smiled. “I asked you to marry me, not go gallivanting all over the wilderness. You’re still planning on getting your sisters to come west and settle Smoke Valley with you, aren’t you?”

She nodded.

“You want them to have homes to come to?”

Another nod.

“After that fire, you’ll need someone to tote and carry with you, build and plan with you, yes?

“Yes.” She whispered afraid any sound louder would shatter the fragile hope growing in her heart.

“I’d like to be that man.”

“What about being marshal? You told me once that your daddy was a wandering man and settling with your mama destroyed them both.”

“I’m not my daddy, and you sure as heaven aren’t my mama.”

She smiled and kissed him. Maybe she had a chance for complete happiness. They’d talk more, but only after she loved him into tomorrow.

Later, as she drowsed toward sleep Ev stirred, settling her snugly in his arms.

“You never answered me.”

“I got distracted.”

“Me too, but I need to know. Will you marry me?”

“I’ll tell you in the morning.”

• • •

Pounding on the door woke Ev from heaven-induced slumber. Curled beside him, Kiera stirred to wakefulness.

“Marshal Quinn,” Muh’Weda shouted through the door. “There’s folks from San Francisco at the depot asking about Dabai’Waipi. They mentioned a person named Duval. I couldn’t make out everything ‘cause I was headed away from the train station.”