He sat there across from me with a sickening smile on his face, his quill and parchment poised on the small wooden desk in front of him ready for the words to come. There was protection between us and he was so sure of his position and the final outcome that he was actually humming to himself. He was obviously a rationally minded person, someone who took pains to see both sides of an argument. Only this time, he wasn't looking. He wasn't thinking. The situation was so cut and dry it required no thought at all. I was guilty. I could see it in his every movement. He opened his mouth and I knew, just knew, what his first words would be.
"Ahem. Now then, I want you to tell me what happened. Take your time. I will write it all down so we can have a record of it."
His words were unusually loud to my sensitive hearing and the slow, methodical way he spoke told me that he had already formed an opinion of my intelligence. He did not think I possessed any. I said nothing.
"You tell me what happened and I will write it down." Now he was using hand gestures and speaking even louder, with more enunciation. "Tell me your name."
I smiled. No one knew my name except her and her father and I wanted to keep it that way, at least for a little while longer.
"Sheriff," he called over his shoulder to the other room, "shall I just make one up?"
There was no answer. Ah, I thought I heard the door earlier. That meant the sheriff really had stepped out of the office. Should I take a chance on this man or wait for the sheriff? I watched him as he sighed and muttered to himself.
"I suppose I'll just have to make one up. 'John' will do."
"I reckon so, but it would be incorrect," I offered. "You wouldn't want something as important as a confession to be incorrect, now would you? Surely a lawyer like yourself would take great pains to ensure that all i's are dotted and all t's crossed."
His hand was arrested on its way to the paper and a tiny drop of ink spattered on the blank page. He blinked and looked at me, obviously not believing his ears.
"My word! You spoke!"
I grinned at him. "Most humans do communicate with some form of speech. You seemed set to take down my words so I thought I would oblige you. Or were you just going to write something and have me nod my life away?"
"But I…I mean you…This is highly unexpected."
"Not to mention inconvenient. If you're going to railroad a man into a death sentence, it's always handy to pick one who can't defend himself."
He had recovered his wits and his eyes narrowed. "I hardly think you are being railroaded, young man. There are witnesses."
I leaned forward so the cell bars between us were inches from my face. "There are witnesses that will say I hit another man, yes, and I would gladly kill him with my fists for what he has done. Since I did not kill him, I don't see why I'm on trial for my life. If anything, he should be in here, not me."
A haughty demeanor crept into his body language. "The assault on that man is not the issue here. You are on trial for the rape and attempted murder of Miss Marie D'Ancanto. In this part of the country, the mere molestation of a woman is a hanging offense."
Her name sent a spark of anger through my veins. I had figured out what had happened and had gone through every saloon in the town the next day until I had found him in the worst one, huddled with another man at a table hidden in the corner shadows. The bastard was chuckling and whispering with his friend. I recognized at once that this was the man I was after and I had hit him as hard as I possibly could. My rational mind had told me to wipe him off the face of the earth for what he had done to my precious Marie.
"Then get your quill ready my friend," I said as I gripped one of the cell's metal bars tightly in my fist at the memory. "Let's see just how sure of your judgement you are after hearing what really happened."
The call to court, the seating of the judge, and the swearing in of the jury had already occurred. The trial was being held in the meeting house, which also served as the church and school. A small town like this one did not have funds for a separate courthouse. The west was a still a far cry from the New England I grew up in, even as we neared the coming of a new century.
Mine was the only case going to trial this fortnight. I glanced over at Mr. Grimmauld. The small trickle of sweat on his temple didn't worry me. It was due to the heat, not the situation. Even with the windows open, the room was stifling and there wasn't a breeze to be had. His demeanor had changed considerably, once he found out what was going on. The more we spoke, the more I found him to be a man to count on and thanked the fates for bringing him into that cell to take my confession instead of the sheriff. He had been doing LeBeau a favor but once he heard what really happened he had taken me as his client then and there.
The jury was comprised of twelve men of the town whom I had never met. That could be good or bad, depending on how you took it. I hadn't been in town more than a month, so it wasn't surprising that they studied me carefully. I didn't sense any open hostility, not from the jury anyway. The sheriff was a different matter. He was fit to be tied. This was to have been an open and shut case, using a confession as the main body of evidence against me. Since Grimmauld had said there was no confession and had even taken my case, he was going to have to work for the conviction.
"Sheriff LeBeau, you've had the prisoner for a few days now. Couldn't you have taken the time to have him cleaned up for my court?"
"Your Honor, his clothes are part of the evidence."
"Then should he be wearing them?" The judge's voice sounded like he was reasoning with a small child.
The courtroom tittered and I took a better gander at the judge. His name was Drake. Grimmauld had said he was fair to the point of being unemotional. He also said the man was capable of delivering justice with a chill akin to the snows of winter. I thought I saw a spark of amusement in Drake's eyes. Something in him liked getting LeBeau's goat, that's for sure, and that set a good tone for my trial. I was careful not to grin, though, as I caught the judge looking me over. I didn't want to give the wrong impression.
"Charges, Sheriff LeBeau?"
"This man is charged with the rape and attempted murder of Miss Marie D'Ancanto, Your Honor."
The judge frowned. He had only arrived early this morning on the stage and had not had time to hear the local gossip. I had heard the talk. Some of the townsfolk had stood under the window of my cell to make certain I had heard it. They were so sure the stranger had done it they didn't think anyone else could possibly be guilty. They didn't know what I knew. I couldn't help it, I closed my eyes in a reflex of the thought of that bastard touching my fiancée. When I opened them I found the judge looking at me strangely and I wondered just what kind of emotion showed on my face.
"Does this man have a name, sheriff?" Drake spoke softly, as if choosing the words carefully.
"If he does, he's not giving it," growled LeBeau.
The sheriff then proceeded to tell the jury about the crime and how it related to me. According to him, I attacked Marie D'Ancanto at her residence, tore her clothing, and, when she resisted, tried to kill her, hoping to leave no witness of my crime. It sounded convincing and the jury was definitely eyeing me now. The sheriff was good, no doubt about it. The man must have been a lawman for a while and it was obvious he knew which end of a boot to use and when. Then again, he wasn't telling the whole story because he didn't know everything that had happened and that was going to be Grimmauld's defense for me. If the sheriff had known everything would I have lived to see a trial? Would he have lynched me? For all intents and purposes, LeBeau came across as a straight-shooter, an arrogant cuss, but a fair man, nonetheless. Grimmauld had told me the name of the man I attacked and it was then I realized the danger I was in. When things did come to light, the sheriff's mettle would be tested, that's for sure. I almost felt sorry for the man.
There was a slight distraction. A boy of about twelve snuck into the room, panting heavily, and slipped a note to my counsel before running back out. Grimmauld read it and I itched to lean over and see what was on the paper that would make him choke down a smile like that. Then he started frowning and I knew I had to do something. To my surprise he folded the note and pocketed it in his coat then leaned over to me and began to whisper what I wanted to know.
"She's on her feet and doing better. She heard the judge is in town and wants to be a witness for us."
I interrupted him. "No. She's still hurt. I don't want her to risk a ride into town and I don't want her to have to relive what happened by being here. That lunatic is still running around free."
He nodded, "That he is, until we can get the true facts out." He sighed. "I can't stop her. I thought you knew how headstrong she is, seeing as how you are affianced to her. You can't talk that woman out of anything once she has her mind set. Besides, I'd feel more comfortable if she's in here with us. It's getting her here that's the danger. I just hope she has the good sense to ask her cook to come with her.
"There's a new development, too. A stranger that disembarked from the morning stage the judge came on has been listening to the gossip and asking a lot of questions around town. Odd fellow, about your age, maybe slighter built, dark haired, and wears a tailored suit and funny looking spectacles with dark glass in them. Know him?"
The thought of Marie in this courtroom with that bastard still out there and the description of a man with dark spectacles had sufficed to confuse me and I shook my head. At that point, the judge broke my concentration on this new set of circumstances by stating that the first witness could take the stand.
The first witness was Mrs. Munroe, the woman who ran the boarding house. She's a nice enough lady but a bit snoopish. She and I had to have a meeting of the minds on the first day when I checked into her establishment. My room was off limits for cleaning or visitors, including her, until I checked out. I would have gone to the hotel, but I was on the last of my stake and needed to watch my spending. I wasn't about to wire for money, not when the town telegraph operator could prove to be the biggest gossip around.
Mrs. Munroe was a handsome sight, a pale mulatto with the sweetest face you ever did see and a figure that cloth just naturally clung to, emphasizing every pretty curve. As for her background, the small amount of color in her skin only made you sit up and take more notice. It's a shame about prejudices down south. Of course there are quite a few people up north who could learn a few things about not judging others before you get to know them, too. Her husband had run off with another woman, someone more pure blooded, and left her the family house. She had the brains and the gumption to rent out the rooms and serve meals to people who didn't care much for hotel living. From the way people talked she was in a better situation now than when the husband had been around.
As she took her seat I noticed that the sheriff gave her more than a once over. That was the look of appreciation given to something you had experienced and would like to do so again. She didn't pay him any mind, though, which might mean something or nothing depending on how you view women.
"Where's the Bible?" Drake waited until she had placed her hand upon it. "Do you understand that the testimony you give here today will be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but, so help you God?"
"I do."
"Your name?" The judge asked but I could tell he already knew.
"Ororo Winnifred Cooper Munroe." Her voice was calm and kind of low.
"Mrs. Munroe," began the sheriff, "do you recognize the man seated at that table?" He pointed to me.
"Yes, he's one of my current boarders."
I wondered if she had gone through my things yet, not that I had much in the way of luggage with me.
"What's his name?"
"He never said."
There was a murmur in the courtroom and the jury focused on me for a moment before looking back at the witness.
"He didn't sign in?"
"I don't run a hotel, sheriff." There was a slight stress on the last word. "I take in people who are willing to pay for a decent room and some good food. I don't ask questions."
"We didn't find any luggage when the deputy and I searched his room." She offered no comment so he tried again. "Do you remember seeing any luggage in that room when you went in to clean it?"
"I've only been in the room twice since he's taken it. Once to show him where it was and once to check on him when he didn't come down for breakfast four days ago. He had made arrangements that the room not be cleaned."
Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Grimmauld stiffen ever so slightly.
"I asked you when we searched that room if this man had any luggage and you said you couldn't remember. Do you remember now?"
She batted those long eyelashes at him and the sheriff blushed. "I remember lots of things, sheriff," she drawled, "but I can honestly say there are no bags in his room now."
Grimmauld relaxed but now it was my turn to stiffen. I had one piece of luggage, a carpet satchel, and she had definitely seen it when I checked in. I couldn't fathom why she was skirting the truth. Had she taken it? Or had someone else?
"Let's go back to your comment about checking on him. You say he wasn't there four nights ago?"
She coughed a little before replying. "Yes. As far as I could tell, he did not sleep in his room the night of the 24th."
The sheriff grimaced and looked at the jury. "That is the same night that Miss D'Ancanto was attacked. When did he come back to his room?"
"He didn't. I heard he was arrested after hitting a man in a saloon later that morning."
"The morning of the 25th?"
"Yes."
"Thank you, Mrs. Munroe. That will be all."
My solicitor stood. "One moment, sheriff. If you want to have a fair trial and present all the facts to the jury I need to ask the witness some questions, too. Your Honor?"
Drake nodded. "Please proceed, Mr. Grimmauld."
"Mrs. Munroe, if you did not clean the room how do you know this man didn't sleep there on the night of the 24th?"
She paused and began to blush. I knew she had been keeping an eye on me since she found out Marie and I were interested in each other. The sheriff cut his eyes from her to me and began to get red himself and it wasn't from embarrassment. I swallowed a grin. If he was that jealous he should marry her and get it over with.
Grimmauld smiled kindly. "Perhaps you can answer this question instead. Are you a good friend of Miss D'Ancanto's?
Her chin tilted up. "I consider her a very good friend."
"And as a good friend, you would want to protect her from harm?"
"Yes."
"Did you know she was having problems with her horses getting out of the barn at night?"
She looked at Grimmauld, a little surprised at the question, then she glanced quickly at me before answering. "Yes. Someone had been letting the horses loose at night as a prank. She told me she had to check on them before she retired in the evenings to make sure they were still in their stalls."
Grimmauld took off his pince-nez and twirled its string, then placed the spectacles back on his nose. "Did you tell anyone else this?"
"I…I mentioned this to…this man this past week after dinner." She nodded in my direction.
"Anyone else?"
"No sir."
"What day was this?"
"The 24th."
"The same day her father left on a business trip?"
"Yes."
"Why did you mention this matter to him?"
She paused, choosing her words carefully. "I believed it would be a subject he would be interested in."
"Thank you Mrs. Munroe," Grimmauld said cheerily. "That's all I needed to know."
LeBeau looked as clueless as the jury and the judge.
"She was agitated, her throat had some bruising, her wrists were sprained and marked, and she had suffered a heavy blow to the side of her face. My guess is it was a man's fist."
Dr. Rasputin was a rather large man with a blustery manner. He had his eyes on me the entire time he was giving testimony and I could see where his suspicions lay.
"So she was molested?"
"Yes, sheriff, she was definitely molested, although I believe her honor was never compromised. She fought too hard for that."
The sheriff glared at my solicitor. "Thank you, doctor. Your turn, Mr. Grimmauld."
I readied a sheet of paper and a quill as he rose and approached the witness. While he talked, I wrote.
"Dr. Rasputin, what made you aware that Miss D'Ancanto needed medical attention?"
"As I said earlier, I found a note tacked to my door. I often get notes on my door since I'm usually out of my office treating patients."
Grimmauld walked over to our table and took the sheet from me. He strode back to the doctor and handed him the note I had just written. Dr. Rasputin made an exclamation and dropped the note, staring at me with an entirely different expression.
The sheriff jumped up and made a move to retrieve the note from the floor. Grimmauld stepped firmly on it, preventing him from picking it up or even seeing it.
"Sheriff, where's the note you took from Dr. Rasputin?"
Dr. Rasputin bent over and picked up his worn leather medical case. "He never took it. I have it right here." He opened it up and pulled out a crumpled paper.
Grimmauld retrieved it and the note from the floor. He handed both to the judge. The sheriff read over Drake's shoulder, much to the judge's displeasure. LeBeau's face was mean as he glared at me when he was done.
"This doesn't mean anything, "LeBeau snarled. "He could have written it because he wanted to hide his back trail. Maybe his conscience got the better of him."
Drake, however, was sharp enough to spot what Rasputin did. He looked at me, then at Grimmauld.
"The handwriting is the same and the note is word for word, but I want to know why the last sentence is underlined on the second paper and not on the first."
I felt the heat rise in my cheeks. In my note to the doctor I had asked him to go check on Marie. The last line I wrote was: Make sure she shows you her right hand and her left leg. I stared at the doctor, who was now facing the judge.
"I did check her right hand. Two of her nails were broken and torn. She would not let me see her left leg, no matter how much I argued with her."
Grimmauld flashed me a curious glance. I hadn't mentioned her leg to him, just her nails.
"That's because it's my leg and no man is going to look on it except for my husband."
Stillness settled over the courtroom at the sound of that low, strong, musical voice. My Marie had come to town.
Mark Twain once wrote, "All emotion is involuntary when genuine." I guess that sorta sums up how I feel when it comes to Marie. I had sworn never to look at any woman again with an interest in attaining her affections, not after what happened in Boston nigh on four years ago. It was a good rule to live by until I arrived here. One moment I was in this little town with nothing more on my mind than doing a quick favor for a friend and the next? Well, I saw Marie in that little buckboard with her hair all which way and a charming smile on her face, not even directed at me, mind you, and the jig was up. I fell in love and I fell hard.
If she wanted to make an entrance into the court, she made a good one. Down between the rows of seats she walked, slowly and stately, using a cane as a support for her left leg. Damn that woman anyhow. Why couldn't she let that doctor take a look at it? The closer she came the more I forgot about the leg, though. Her eyes were enough to make a man wonder about the beautiful soul behind them and her mouth could curve into the sweetest smile you ever did see. It was her heart, though, that had won me over and she showed the same courage and fire now in facing this situation as she had that night when she had been attacked. She's all woman, that one, and all mine. My mouth went dry at the thought.
"Miss D'Ancanto," said Grimmauld giving a slight little bow.
I was going to stand but, when I looked back at the judge, my eye caught movement and I saw the sheriff's hand slip the thong off the hammer on his holstered pistol. That piece was now ready to be pulled at a moment's notice. His was the only gun in that courtroom except the judge's and I wasn't about to be shot in the back for approaching my fiancée, not when almost everyone in the room thought I had tried to kill her or worse. I kept my seat.
Damned if she didn't walk right up to me and stop. She bent over and kissed my cheek and whispered, "Thank you for saving my life."
I stood, risking the bullet, and kissed her on the top of her forehead. "You're quite welcome," I whispered back.
She approached the now astonished judge, sheriff, and doctor and nodded at the witness chair. "Mind if I take that seat for a moment?"
The doctor rose in a hurry, vacating the chair and holding it for her as she sat. I swear that woman has the grace of a cat. She makes every movement look easy.
"Sheriff," Her tone of voice brooked no argument, "I understand you have this man on trial for his life because of what happened to me. I wished you had taken the opportunity to ask me some questions before you fulfilled your duty and arrested him. I could have saved you the trouble. He didn't attack me."
LeBeau scraped his jaw off the floor. "Who did?"
"I don't know. He wore a scarf over most of his face."
The sheriff's eyes now looked triumphant. "We found this in your carriage house." He held up a scrap of cloth. "It fits the hole torn out of the back of this man's shirt sleeve. He's also covered with soot from the fire and his clothes have some charring. He was there, Miss D'Ancanto. He attacked you."
Marie turned her perky little bonnet my way. "Yes, he was there." Her smile was grateful. "He carried me out of the carriage house and tore his shirt as he scraped by the rig. He was the one who chased off the attacker, sir. He was the one who put out the fire. He also carried me into the house and stayed with me that night until my cook came in the morning."
"Your father was not there that night…" LeBeau started.
My face flushed as I stood and defended her honor. "I laid her on the settee in the parlor, sheriff. I could not leave her alone knowing that man might come back. I slept on the floor beside her. When I slept that is. She was in no danger from me, I assure you."
I thought I spotted an amused twinkle in the judge's eyes as he banged on the table with a gavel to silence the uproar in the courthouse. Someone pulled at the back of my vest and I turned. It was the small boy who had brought Mr. Grimmauld a note. Now he was bringing me one. Grimmauld was as astonished as I was. I took the note and opened it, noting that the boy was hanging around as if waiting for a reply. My legs slowly folded me back in the chair as I read the words on the paper.
It said: You're three weeks late. Came in on the stage. Found the man you slugged. Want him in court? Scott.
The man with the dark glasses, of course. I had forgotten about Scott's accident four months ago. I turned the paper over and scribbled: No. There's complications. Come to court and keep an eye on Miss D'Ancanto. Hope you're still sporting that new piece. It might come in handy. Logan.
I fished in my pocket and handed the boy two bits and the note. He was off like a shot just as the populace in the room was settling down.
"Your Honor, may I ask the witness a question?" Grimmauld was purring like a cat with cream.
"Your Honor, she is not my witness and should step down. I can clear this whole thing up with my next witness. I demand you let me proceed." The sheriff was turning red again. Was I the only one that noticed his gun was at the ready?
Drake was cold. "Let us not rush so quickly to follow procedure that we let the wheels of justice roll over the innocent. Mr. Grimmauld, you may ask the question."
"How did you injure your hand?"
Marie carefully removed one of her gloves and held up her fingers to show the torn nails. " I injured my hand, Mr. Grimmauld, while trying to defend myself from a cowardly man who intended to do me harm. I hope I marked him as the dog he is."
"But you don't know that you did," interjected the sheriff. "And he could be sitting right in front of you now." He glared at me. "Do you know for a fact that this man was not the one who attacked you?"
She had been out cold when I found her. How could she say I wasn't the one? My heart caught in my throat as I realized just how close I was to swinging in the wind.
"Your Honor! I object to the sheriff's outburst." My counsel turned to the judge.
"So noted." Drake was grim. So was the jury and I could see they were of the opinion that I could have done it and were willing to read to me from the good book. This did not look promising. "I would like to hear the answer to that question, though."
Marie raised her chin. "The man who attacked me was wearing gloves and a homespun shirt, not anything like the tailored shirt and vest this man is wearing." She pointed a dainty finger at me.
God bless those sharp, pretty eyes. Drake slammed the gavel down again and again in an attempt to quiet the court that had started spouting off comments. I believe in all that noise and confusion I began to breathe again.
The trial was essentially over. Not wanting to lose the case and not be able to try me again, the sheriff and the judge had been willing to stop it in order to find out more about what happened. LeBeau proceeded to empty the court of everyone except me, Grimmauld, Dr. Rasputin, Marie, and Drake. He leaned out and called in Marie's cook who was waiting outside. Just as he was shutting the door, a boot toed in and stopped it cold. The sheriff was about to have a fit until something stopped him and he opened it wide to let in one more person.
I shook my head. It was Scott. Cocky as the devil, he folded his leather wallet case back and tucked it neatly into his breast coat pocket as he waltzed between the rows of seats.
"Who is this?" Drake was in no mood for more legal sloppiness from LeBeau and his voice showed it.
"I do consultation work for the Pinkerton Detective Agency, Your Honor," replied Scott. "My name is Scott Summers and I am looking for my business partner." He pulled up a seat behind me and sat. "Looks like I've found him."
The sheriff was apoplectic. "Hold on there, you said you had business with the court and showed me a badge."
"I have a detective badge and I do have business here. This is my partner and his welfare is my business." Scott cocked his head at LeBeau. "I'm surprised at your lack of intelligence, sheriff. This case is so cut and dry it's painful to see."
That's my logical friend, all right. He can stir up more trouble with words that a child with a stick in a hornet's nest.
"What do you mean by that, sir?" Drake was curious and angry at the same time.
"Hold it." I managed to stop Scott before he made things worse. "I believe I have the explaining to do."
The sheriff moved his and the judge's chairs to the other side of the defense table where I was still seated. With them so close it made it a little easier to see the sincerity in my words, or at least, that's what I hoped for as I began to tell them everything.
"I came to town to do a favor for a friend. In the process, I fell in love with Miss D'Ancanto, here, and asked for her hand from her father. He went to Boston to meet with my parents while I stayed here to finish my…the favor for my friend. Mrs. Munroe found out about my proposal and told me about Miss D'Ancanto's problems with her horses. I became suspicious of such a prank and borrowed a horse to ride to her ranch. I arrived in time to hear her scream and ran into the carriage house. By then the attacker was gone. I put the fire out, woke Miss D'Ancanto, and carried her to safety. I prowled the grounds around the house to make sure the intruder did not return."
"Wait. Miss Marie's cook says you attacked her."
"No, sheriff. That is not what I said." The little Chinese girl piped up behind me. "I said I smelled smoke when I arrived at sunrise and I ran to the house where I found this man in the kitchen. We surprised each other and I…"
I snorted. "Go ahead. Tell them you threw me across the room, Miss Lee." I looked back over at Scott. "Darnedest thing I ever did see." I faced the judge again. "Once I knew she could do that I left her with Miss D'Ancanto, knowing she'd be safe. I rode to the jail and couldn't find the sheriff so I ran to the doctor's and left the note. That's when I went through all the saloons. I figured anything that had ripped a woman's nails like that was bound to have a mark."
"So the man you assaulted at the bar…" LeBeau was beginning to see the light.
"Was the only man I found with fresh scratch marks on his face and neck." We looked at each other, he and I. His face went pale. I shook my head and gave him my sympathy. "I had no idea, sheriff. I really didn't. Mr. Grimmauld told me who he was."
LeBeau rose slowly from his chair and left the building.
Drake raised an eyebrow at my counsel.
Grimmauld cleared his throat. "It was Jack, Robert."
Drake was obviously shocked. I heard Marie and Dr. Rasputin draw in a breath behind me.
"Who is Jack?" Scott leaned forward.
"Jacques LeBeau is Sheriff Remy LeBeau's son." Drake couldn't keep the wonder out of his voice. "Why, though? Why would he do such a thing to her of all people?"
"I'll tell you." The small cook piped up again.
"No, Lee, I'll tell them." Marie had a strange look on her face as if she had known something all along but couldn't face up to it. "Jack was in love with me but I didn't love him, not like that. He had asked me to marry him a couple of months ago, but I laughed at him. I thought it was a joke. He even laughed." Her eyes were pleading with everyone to understand. "I'm sure he never meant to hurt me. The horses must have been his way of getting me to come out of the house at night so he could watch me. He must have been jealous of the attentions I was giving Logan."
"I take it you're Logan?" Drake was listening intently but wanted to know.
"I am." I offered nothing else.
"Anyway," she continued, "that night papa was gone and I went to check the horses. He grabbed me and pulled me into the carriage house but I didn't know who he was so I fought him. I must have broken his heart. He never would have hurt me…"
"Marie." I tried to stay calm as I twisted in my seat to try and catch her attention. "You said you marked the cowardly dog for what he was. Trust your first instincts. He didn't try to set the carriage house on fire. He smashed your lantern on you as you lay unconscious in the dirt. You were the only thing he wanted to burn that night. Your skirt was in flames when I grabbed the carriage blanket and smothered you in it." I looked over at the doctor. "Her leg may have been badly burned, I don't know."
Marie slapped Rasputin's hand away. "Oh my God, what have I done?" She broke down into tears.
Drake stood and came around the table. He put a finger under her chin, raising her eyes to meet his. "You've done nothing, child. I've known the LeBeaus for a long, long time. His mother ran out on them when he was young and Jack has never been the same. You were probably the only one in town that didn't see Jack for what he was becoming. He was hanging around with the vilest sorts of men and was growing into one of them. Remy was worried sick and asked me for advice. To you he was always a childhood friend and he didn't get that innocent treatment from anyone else. He wanted you as a refuge. It's not your fault that you chose a better man to spend the rest of your life with." The judge gave me the eye. "Everything I've heard tell today convinces me of this. Come on, Foster, I have the unfortunate need to see a man about his son." Grimmauld followed him out the door.
I scrambled around in my pockets trying to find my handkerchief then remembered I had wrapped her hand in it that night. Scott tapped me on the shoulder and I took his, offering it to Marie in an attempt to help her with her tears. The mood was definitely somber as we left the meeting house.
"Are you going to introduce me or not?"
I turned to Scott even as I supported Marie on my arm. "Pipe down. Give her a minute."
Ever the lady, Marie tried to smile. "No, it's all right. I would love to finally meet your partner."
I gave a glare to answer Scott's cheeky grin and turned to my fiancée as we stopped on the walk in front of the general store. If people around us were puzzled by me walking with Marie they either kept it to themselves or I just wasn't noticing.
"Miss D'Ancanto, this is my school chum, business partner, and all around trouble-making friend Scott Summers. Mr. Summers, this is my enchanting fiancée Miss Marie D'Ancanto."
"Pleased to make your acquaintance." Even after tearing up some, she was beautiful, shiny red nose and all.
"Likewise." He bent and took her hand, touching her knuckles gently to his mouth.
Now I could swear I've seen him do this gesture to hundreds of women and it never got to me before. After all, I've done it myself. It's simply a form of greeting in civilized society. For some reason, though, I could have sworn I growled, actually growled, when he touched his mouth to her glove. I don't know what came over me. He looked up in some consternation and then realized I was as astonished as he was.
"This must be the one. You've never acted this way about anyone, including Miss 'you-know-who' from Boston." His smile was genuine and I relaxed.
Her puzzled face looked from me to him and back to me. "Someone I should know about?"
"No," we both replied.
That was one of the reasons I liked Scott. He did have good sense at times.
"I need to get you back home, my dear lady," I said as I began to escort her toward her buckboard again. "You need rest."
Lee was already in the seat with the reins in hand. As we approached, however, a shadow seemed to fall across the town.
"Whore! You're just like my mother. You're as worthless as any woman and don't deserve to live!"
We turned and saw Jack across the street, gun in hand at his side. The gun was coming up and I moved swiftly to protect Marie. If he had tried to kill her once, that was probably his intentions now. The first shot must have hit the dirt for I saw a cloud of dust rise up. After that, I had my back to him as I grabbed Marie and pulled her down. I heard another shot before there was a roar of sound next to me accompanied by the screaming of horses.
I'm not sure what I expected but when I opened my eyes and realized I was in my room at the boarding house I was a little surprised.
"What happened?" My head was throbbing and my mouth was dry but I managed to get the words out.
"It's a lucky thing you have such a thick skull, Logan. That bullet didn't have a chance. Rasputin says you'll be just fine."
I looked over in the dim light and saw Marie sitting on a chair at the side of the bed and Scott standing behind her. She adjusted the flame of the lamp on the bedside table and the room became a bit brighter.
Scott continued. "You took two bullets. One glanced off that thick leather belt you wore and nicked your hipbone and the other creased your noggin. I shot him but not before the sheriff put some lead into him as well. Seems he was tracking his son down, bent on making sure he didn't hurt anyone else. Jack never saw him coming, just wanted to hurt Miss D'Ancanto, here. Good thing you warned me to carry my toy with me. I had to make a special trip to the hotel to retrieve it before joining you at the trial."
He held up the wicked looking weapon. It was a modification of one of the newest German automatic pistols. The damn thing could fire seven shots in the span a normal man could fan out three. I watched him tuck it out of sight again in his waistband.
"I was hoping your eyesight was better."
Scott nodded. "I'm fine. That misfire at the range didn't catch me full in the face and the good doctor said I didn't need the glasses anymore. I just like them because they allow me not to squint in bright sunshine." His pale blue eyes were laughing at me as usual. "I'm not the one with the propensity for being damaged. That belongs to you, my friend."
He's right. If I look back over time, I have to admit I'm the one that usually gets the worst of it when he and I go on an adventure.
"That may be true, but I usually don't get 'damaged' unless you're around me."
"Go away, then," Marie slapped playfully at Scott. "I don't want him hurt anymore." She gently took my hand and her expression became grave. "I'm so sorry."
"Don't you go apologizing for that…" I stopped because I didn't want her to hear what I would normally call a bastard like that.
The door opened and in swung Mrs. Munroe, balancing a plate of food with a glass on a tray with one hand and carrying a pitcher in her other.
"Make yourself useful, will you?' She shoved the pitcher into Scott's astonished hands and landed the tray in Marie's lap. "Not that you should be spoon feeding him or anything, Marie, but he does deserve something for being sensible enough to keep you safe." She jerked me forward and shoved a few more pillows behind me so I could sit up. My head started to spin but I kept quiet. She stopped her whirlwind activities and put her hands on her hips. "Your bill is due. I'll return your luggage when you've paid up," Mrs. Munroe headed for the door and looked coyly back at me, "Mr. Richards." She turned serious. "By the way, don't worry about the sheriff. Maybe now I can get him to see the sense in moving away from this little town and starting a new life. Best thing that ever happened to him, sad to say, but true. Jack was as bad as Remy is obstinate." The door shut quietly behind her.
There, what did I say? The woman's nosey as hell but has an extremely sharp mind. Just like someone else I know. I glanced at Scott.
"I'd say we've found our New Orleans representative, don't you think?"
He looked at me and smiled. "You're one for picking 'em. If this place is any indication, she's a woman of good business sense. I trust she's as sharp as her cooking is good." He snagged a piece of the chicken and nodded after a bite. "She's hired. I'll go talk to her."
Now that Marie and I were finally alone, there were a couple of things I wanted to say to her but she beat me to the punch.
" I love you James Logan Richards, but I don't know what to make of this. I mean we haven't even started a life together and already this kind of thing has happened and it's all my fault."
" I told you…" I began.
"I've sat here at the side of your bed for 22 hours now and I'll just explode if I don't say what's on my mind." She looked at me expectantly.
Somewhat abashed, I replied, "Of course, please continue." Twenty-two hours? Damn.
"Thank you. Here I am sailing along merrily, not realizing what kind of an effect I have on those around me. Poor Jack, I never should have laughed. None of this would have happened if it hadn't been for my callous treatment of him. What kind of woman does that make me? How can I deserve you if I'm such a…well a…"
Finally, she was at a loss of words and I jumped in with both feet. "Marie." I made sure I had her hand clasped in both of mine so she couldn't get away. "My dearest lady, I need to tell you something I haven't told anyone else. Please understand this is not easy for me to tell you, but you obviously need to know."
I paused for breath and tried to keep the room from spinning by focusing on her. "When I came upon Jack in the saloon he and his friend were chatting about the 'whore' that had given Jack a fight last night. Jack made it sound like he had given her the best of him and obviously wasn't getting anything in return so he had decided to get rid of her. He thought you were dead and he was laughing. He wasn't right in the head, Marie, and nothing you could have done or did would have made any difference."
She brushed a stray tear from her cheek with the fingertips of her free hand. I saw the fire burn brightly for a moment in her eyes and knew I had made my argument heard. As I said, it may have been her wildness and smile that had captured my attention but it was her spirit and wonderful heart that made me understand she was the one I had to share my life with.
"I've been a fool." She finally said, low and with an emotional tone.
"No more so than I. I actually thought I could live my life without love. At least you shared your heart with others. I locked mine away for a few years and wallowed in self-pity. I may have saved your life but you saved my soul."
That got a small smile and the twinkle in her eyes told me she had decided to lighten the tone of the conversation. "Well, Mr. Richards, have you collected enough botanical samples from Caddo Lake for your dear friend Dr. McCoy? Or shall you stay here another few weeks?"
"Oh no. If he needs any more, he can come and collect his own samples from the only natural lake in Texas. My job here is over and I need to get back to the civilized life of the east." I grinned and pulled her closer. "Of course, I'm not opposed to taking some of the wildness of Texas with me, if you still want to share your life with me that is."
There was mock horror in her voice. "Why Mr. Richards, anyone would have thought that bullet had knocked all the sense out of your head. Of course I still want to marry you, you foolish Yankee. I just wasn't sure if you deserved me, that's all."
"Oh I may have lost my heart to you, Miss D'Ancanto, but I still have a great deal of common sense. Right now that common sense is telling me that anyone with a rational thought in his skull would be a fool to pass up on a wonder like you and I'm always a rationally minded person."
The tray hit the floor as I took the liberty of bestowing a kiss on my future wife's lips. Damn, she's all woman that one, and all mine at that. Am I lucky or what?
The three of us were on the train to Boston. Finally, after four years I was ready to go back. Finding the business opportunities without letting on who I was to competitors had been the easiest part of my mission and I felt Scott and I could bring both our fathers some prosperous good news. Finding my heart had been unexpected and a wonderful surprise. I clasped the gloved hand beside me and thanked God for my good fortune.
"I must say, you have to find time to let go of her sometime, Logan. I will need to borrow you when we get back. As I wrote in that note, you're three weeks, well now four weeks late in getting back. I'm afraid I can't wait any longer for you to be the best man at my wedding." Scott, who sat opposite from us, folded his arms across his chest and smiled.
"Your what?" I was stunned. "Don't tell me the good doctor's assistant finally broke down and gave you the time of day."
He was smug and turned to Marie. "Miss D'Ancanto, can't you teach this oaf some manners in speaking about the fairer sex?"
"I believe his doubt is not with the lady in question but with your tale of winning her affections." Marie batted her eyes innocently.
"She's as bad as you are," Scott harrumphed.
"Not at all. She's much better. And if you are going to get used to a life with that sharp little red-headed Miss Grey on your arm, you had better learn how to take as well as dish out my good man." I grinned at Marie and she grinned back. "I suppose this means we will both have to curtail our craving for adventure, now that we are to become settled young gentlemen."
Scott's face fell. "I suppose so. No more freelancing for the Pinkertons and no more trips out west unless it's for business reasons."
"My dear sirs," exclaimed Marie. "Such long faces. I for one have an adventurous streak as wide as the Mississippi. If excitement is what you crave, count me in. And as for this pretty little red-headed woman you are so enamoured of, Mr. Summers, give her the option of deciding what her married life will be like for herself. She may have a stronger constitution that you might believe."
Scott looked at me and cocked his head. "I'm beginning to have the impression that nothing in life has prepared us for the adventure of marriage."
My eyebrow rose as I took in the twinkle of my fiancée's eyes. "I believe you are right, my friend. What were we thinking?"
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
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Story Notes:
A little (western) flight of fancy. Hope you enjoy it.