The Wrong Brother's Bride (24 page)

August swallowed the lump in his throat. Stine didn’t make promises about getting the charges dropped. He plowed straight ahead. It should have bothered him, he supposed, though it didn’t.

“I did take the pinto horse more than once. I worked at the livery for a few months and it was a fine piece of horseflesh. Buddy Coleman knew about it and he never raised a fuss, because he knew I wouldn’t let any harm come to it. If there was one thing I respected, it was animals.” He lowered his gaze again. “I’d been in trouble for stealing other things. Usually food or not paying for drinks at the saloons. Starting fights and sometimes for selling illegal alcohol, but cattle…”

He trailed off. Unthinkable. “I never committed a crime I thought I’d get hanged for.”

Stine made notes in his book. “Alright. You have a record and Mrs. O’Dell explained your relationship with Sheriff Fowler is strained at best.”

“Mrs. O’Dell minces words if that’s what she’s saying. Fowler and I have a long history. He has good reason to dislike me.” He closed his eyes, cursing himself for being such an ignorant boy.

“What’s your relationship with Mr. Carroll like?”

“I don’t remember him. If we’ve ever met, the memory didn’t stick. I saw him at Gideon Redfearn’s church a few weeks ago. He accused me of stealing then, but I couldn’t place him.”

“I see.” The pencil tip scraped against the paper. “The sheriff claims the event happened on November 10th, 1875, around dusk. There was enough light left for Mr. Carroll to make out your horse and your hair color. Does that date seem familiar?”

August rubbed his forehead, willing his memory to come up with something that would free him from this situation. “My father had passed away about six months before. Jeremiah was talking to the bank about mortgages. He never stopped talking about money. I tried to get him interested in moving to the bootheel because of the logging. He—”

The night they’d had their final argument came back with perfect clarity. When blows were exchanged over Loyal. Angry and hurt, he’d left the ramshackle house they’d lived in, walking for miles in the cold without his coat until he found himself sitting on the Redfearn doorstep. He thought he might get one more look at Loyal before he left for good.

Loyal’s mother, Elizabeth, had invited him in because of the temperatures, and cleaned the cut above his eyebrow made by Jeremiah’s fist. Gideon was away, she’d explained, visiting with a sick church member. Elizabeth had known where August was at dusk. A sick feeling crept into his stomach. The one person who could have testified for him was dead.

“I went to the Redfearns’ that night.”

Loyal gasped. “Why?”

He took a deep breath. “I lied the day you asked when I fell in love with you.”

“I don’t understand,” she whispered. “Why would you lie about it?”

“Because I didn’t want to tell you… Hell, Loyal. I’ve been in love with you since we were kids. Remember when I dared you to climb the apple tree? You were about twelve.”

She nodded, brown eyes wide. “All that time? But…you never said anything.”

“Because of Jeremiah. He fell in love with you first. I hated him for it, knowing he’d have you while I was alone. Again.” He wasn’t proud of the admission.

Loyal’s grip slackened and she looked astounded by his admission.

“What does it have to do with the night the cattle were stolen?” Stine asked.

“I went to see Loyal. She wasn’t home. I don’t think Elizabeth—her mother—mentioned where she was. Jeremiah and I had a fight. Just about knocked each other senseless because he said I’d never be good enough for Loyal or anyone if I didn’t straighten up. I spent the night in the church. Elizabeth told me to. She said she wouldn’t tell anyone. I left the next morning and headed east.”

“Mama…” Loyal shook her head. She clutched August’s hand harder. “She never said a thing. I had no idea. I can’t believe it. Why didn’t you just tell me years ago? Or when you came back?”

“I could never find the right time or the words to say it.” He looked at the floor. “It wouldn’t have mattered. I couldn’t give you what he did. You wouldn’t have gone to the bootheel with me.”

“Everything might have been so different.” She stroked his face. “All that matters is what happens now. We’re together and we’re happy. After this is over, we’ll be even happier.”

They shared a long look. Her fingers cupped his jaw. The misery he’d felt melted away with a caress from her loving gaze. Stine cleared his throat and August managed a smile as Loyal’s face flushed.

“Mrs. Redfearn is deceased, isn’t that correct?” The attorney tapped his pencil on the notebook. “So it’s your word against a list of crimes, an old man who claims he saw you drive the cattle away, and the hat you lost.”

“You can help him, can’t you?” Loyal asked.

Stine’s gaze was steady, giving away nothing. “Were you aware of the hour Pastor Redfearn returned?”

August shook his head. “After dark is about all I can say.”

“His wife gave you sanctuary, but didn’t tell him. If he knew, it could change everything. If he didn’t, things are still complicated, Mr. O’Dell.”

Hope abandoned him. “He couldn’t have known. Gideon hated us. He wouldn’t have let me stay in the church for fear I’d rob him blind or desecrate the building.”

“We’ll talk to Papa. Don’t give up.” Loyal rubbed her fingers through the beard growing on his face. “I love you and I will not allow them to hang you for a crime someone else committed. Do you understand? You’re not to lose hope. No more talk about wills.”

She had tears in her eyes, but her face was set, determined to see him freed. Heart in his throat, he couldn’t do anything except nod.

“I’ll talk to the prosecutor and we’ll arrange a court date after I speak with Pastor Redfearn. There’s no need to draw this case out.” Stine rose from the chair. “I’ll give you two a moment, then we should be going, Mrs. O’Dell.”

He left, but the deputy peered around the corner, eyes cold as he glared at them.

“He thinks I’m going to hang,” August whispered. “We can’t win this, Loyal. I’m sorry. Dammit, I’m so sorry.” He barely held his own tears back as hers slipped down her cheeks. She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face against his shoulder. August slipped one arm under hers and touched her stomach with his free hand. “You have to be strong. The baby needs you. Don’t let your father talk you into giving it away, either. You’ve got to take care of him.”

He deliberately called the baby a boy, hoping she’d contradict him. She didn’t respond, just stroked his back while her shoulders shook.

The family he’d ached for was in his arms, but he’d lost them just as quickly as they’d come into his life. He wasn’t afraid for himself, only for Loyal and the baby.

18

August pulled at his shirtsleeve, tugging it over his wrist as he watched Circuit Court Judge Washington Geiger enter the courtroom. After he sat, the room’s other occupants followed suit. He was surprised he had enough strength to stand. Loyal sat behind him and he could almost feel her eyes watching him.

Two weeks ago, Stine had entered August’s plea of not guilty, and now they were seated before a jury and a crowded courtroom filled with spectators. Judge Geiger slipped on his spectacles and looked at the docket with the case information.

“Today we’re here to decide the fate of a man charged with stealing a herd of cattle five years ago.” Geiger indicated the circuit prosecutor. “Mr. Boyd, present your case.”

August wiped sweat from his brow as he listened to the prosecutor relay the misfortune apparently caused by the theft. Carroll’s lifestyle had depended on the herd. He defaulted on a loan because he had no livestock to sell. His wife had become ill and died because they had no money for the doctor’s care. Though August couldn’t see how crippling arthritis was the result of cattle theft, the lawyer carried on about it for several minutes, and the poor state of Carroll’s life now.

Boyd called Carroll to the front of the room. The old man limped to the stand. Dark eyes glared at August. Unable to watch as the prosecutor questioned Carroll about the rustling, August stared at the floor.

“Is the man who stole your livestock present in this courtroom?”

Carroll tapped his cane on the floor. “Right there. I know it was him because of his hair color. He used to steal the same horse from Buddy Coleman at the livery every weekend, and he wore a coachman’s hat. I found it in the field. Has his initials on the band inside. You ask me, Coleman should be here beside me, filing charges against him for the horse.”

“That will do, Mr. Carroll. You may return to your seat. Your Honor, no further questions.”

Stine rose and approached the bench. “Your Honor, my client August O’Dell, is certainly guilty of a few crimes. Of repeatedly committing them. However, he has an alibi for the night of November tenth.” He launched into the tale August had told, pointing out August had gone to the Redfearns’ home and Mrs. Redfearn had put him up in the church. “I’d like to call Pastor Gideon Redfearn to the stand.”

August’s shoulders tightened. Anything Gideon said was liable to make him look bad. He slipped his finger beneath his collar, pulling it away from his neck as they swore Gideon in and the preacher settled into the chair on the stand.

“Pastor Redfearn, it’s no secret you’re not fond of your son-in-law. That’s true, isn’t it?”

August’s throat was so dry, he nearly choked. What was Stine playing at?

“We’ve had our differences, yes.” Gideon’s mouth tightened.

“You didn’t speak to your daughter for weeks, or officiate at her wedding?”

“No.”

Stine tucked his arms behind his back. “Recently, we suffered some bad weather. Who rescued you when the parsonage was destroyed?”

“August did.”

“Irrelevant,” the prosecutor interrupted.

“Indeed. Your point behind these questions, Mr. Stine?” Geiger asked.

“Establishing Mr. O’Dell’s character, Your Honor.” Stine seemed unperturbed by the judge’s question.

“I can’t say I understand what O’Dell’s character has to do with a theft five years ago, but I’ll allow it. Carry on, Mr. Stine.”

“When your house was deemed unsuitable for living, who took you in, Pastor?”

Gideon frowned. “August did.”

“Who put together a crew to rebuild the parsonage?”

“Honestly, Mr. Stine, I have no idea. I was under the impression the congregation got together.” Gideon’s brow furrowed. “August did that?”

“If the townspeople and businessmen I talked to are reliable, they were approached by Mr. O’Dell. The answer is yes. He also quietly purchased furnishings for the parsonage as an anonymous benefactor.” Stine paced between the witness stand and the bench. “When your daughter needed someone to manage the farm and stand in as a husband figure, wasn’t it Mr. O’Dell who ventured here from New Madrid to take on those tasks?”

“It was,” Gideon answered.

Stine nodded. “Where do you think your son-in-law appropriated the funds for travel, for wages to pay his hired workers, and for the parsonage furnishings?”

Gideon shrugged. “Working for the Missouri Mining and Lumber Company, I suppose.”

“Do you believe he’s a thief?”

Gideon hesitated and August clenched his fists.

“No, I don’t believe he is.” The preacher’s gaze didn’t waver from the attorney’s. “I’m sure he had money saved from working with the lumber crew.”

“So, you don’t think he led a band of outlaws around the country, stealing cattle for profit?” Stine folded his arms over his chest.

“I don’t think so.” Gideon looked at August. “No, I feel certain he didn’t.”

“Perhaps you could tell us about November tenth, 1875.”

Gideon’s brow wrinkled again. “I was visiting a member of my church. She was an older woman, plagued by heart trouble and not expected to live much longer. She died a few days after my visit. I was gone between four and six in the evening. When I returned home, Elizabeth had kept dinner warm for me. I worked on my sermon for a while, and then I noticed a lit candle in the church.”

“Did you ask your wife about the light, or otherwise react to it?”

“Yes. I asked if she knew someone was out there. She said she’d sent them. When I asked who, she didn’t answer right off, although I pressed her until she admitted it was August.” Gideon’s dark eyes met his again. “She said he’d fought with his brother, Jeremiah, and he intended to leave Wilson township in the morning. I was very displeased, because August was a miscreant. He was always in trouble. Elizabeth had a soft spot for the O’Dell boys. I wanted to turn him out, but she begged me not to.”

Stine nodded again. “Did she say how long he’d been at your residence?”

Gideon’s eyes wandered around the room as he thought. “Shortly after I left, perhaps a quarter after four was when he arrived. I didn’t sleep well, knowing he was out there. I stayed by the window, watching to see if he’d make off with anything from the church. He didn’t emerge until five-thirty the following morning. Nothing was missing. Everything was left exactly as before. Except a blanket she’d given him to stave off the chill. It was neatly folded on the front pew.”