Judith French - Morgan's Woman

"You found him?"

"Workin' on a spread east of here. He pretty much backed up your story of what happened that day. He said he threatened Sam but he wouldn't have killed him."

"See? It happened just like I told you."

"I tried to ask Henry Steele, but he won't talk to me. Either he's protecting himself or his brother's wife."

"Widow."

"Yeah, widow."

Tamsin's fingers ached from holding on to the plaster. "Can you come inside?"

"Not until morning. The office is locked tight as a drum. Joel Long is the deputy on guard duty, but he's probably asleep."

"Oh." She wanted to touch Ash… to have him hold her in his arms and tell her everything would be all right. She would have traded this cell for a mountain campsite, Indians, cougars, and all.

"I brought you something," he said.

She peered through the shadows, but it was impossible to see more than his silhouette. "A hacksaw?"

He laughed softly.

She heard Shiloh take a few quick steps, and then flowers rained around her face. Surprised, she dropped down to the floor and sat there.

"Tamsin?"

"Yes?"

"Are you hurt?"

"No."

"What's wrong?"

"You brought me flowers?"

"Fireweed and candytuft."

She swallowed, trying not to cry, as she picked up the scattered wildflowers.

"What's wrong, Tamsin?"

"Nothing." Tears stained her face.

I love him, she thought. I really love him.

"Don't you like them?"

"I can't see them. It's dark."

"The fireweed is about the color of your hair." His voice was husky, full of emotion. "Candytuft has a yellow center with white petals."

"Thank you." She gathered them against her breast.

"We're going to get you free," he said. "One way or another, Tamsin. You're not going to hang."

"That's what my lawyer tells me."

"He's a good man, darlin'."

"He said the same about you."

"Well, I'd best get Shiloh to the stable. He's had a long ride. I'll check on Dancer and Fancy for you."

"You didn't put them in Edwards's barn? After what happened before?"

He laughed. "No, I didn't leave them there. Good night, woman."

"Good night, Ash." She waited for him to say the words she wanted to hear more than anything. And when he didn't, she did. "I love you."

He didn't answer.

"I love you," she called again. She pulled herself up and looked out onto an empty alleyway. "Oh, Ash," she murmured. Then she dropped to the floor and gathered her flowers again, watering them with her own abundant tears.

"Ash!" Tamsin sat bolt upright on the wooden bunk. Her heart was racing, and she was visibly trembling. Rubbing her eyes, she got up and went to the barred jail window. She could have sworn she heard a shot, but it was barely light out.

No one seemed to be stirring in the town.

She returned to the bunk and began to unplait her hair. She was fully dressed, which made for a decidedly uncomfortable night. She'd slept poorly, but she couldn't remember any nightmares, not until the awful dream that woke her.

Tamsin pulled the scratchy wool blanket around her. She felt icy cold, despite the already rising temperature outside. She couldn't shake off an uneasy feeling that something bad had happened to Ash.

She brushed her hair and pinned it into a knot at the back of her head. She poured water from a tin pitcher into the matching bowl and washed her face. Soon Walker or Deputy Long would come to escort her to the boardinghouse to use the ladies' bathroom and outhouse. She hoped there wouldn't be a repeat of the first day's ordeal.

People had stared at her and called her names. A little boy, no more than eight years old, had spat at her. Back shooter, they'd called her. Murderess!

It seemed the townsfolk weren't waiting to hear her side in a court of justice. They'd already convicted her in their minds. She hoped none of her accusers would sit on the jury.

Tamsin heard the door to the street open. Shaking the water from her hands, she turned hoping to see Ash or Dimitri.

"Are you comfortable?" Henry Steele's angry gaze met hers. "We usually don't go to such pains for a horse thief and murderer."

"You know I didn't kill your brother!" Tamsin balled her fingers into fists and glared through the bars at the judge. "Not only didn't I commit the crime, but I think you know who did."

Henry Steele scowled. "Your lies are growing thin, woman. And your lawyer's tricks won't help you on the stand. You shot my brother in the back for those horses, and you're going to pay dearly for it."

She stiffened. "There's really no point to this conversation, is there? I'd prefer you spoke to Mr. Zajicek until we meet in court."

"That suits me as well."

He was barely out of the sheriff's office before Ash, Dimitri, and Helen came in. Tamsin knew by one look at their faces that they had bad news. "What is it?"

"Simply appalling," Mrs. Zajicek murmured.

"Henry Steele is going to preside over my case?"

"Not that either," Dimitri said. "We've heard no word on our request for an unbiased-"

"What, then? "Tamsin persisted.

"It's that poor boy," Mrs. Zajicek said. "The one from the stable."

Tamsin glanced at Ash.

The barrister continued: "I spoke at length with the boy yesterday. He was terrified, but he seemed sympathetic to our case. I'm afraid Javier Chispero won't be able to testify on your behalf. He's been found dead."

"Dead?" Tamsin felt sick. She remembered the boy's plain brown face and his dark, frightened eyes. "I thought I heard a shot about dawn."

"The stable owner, your Mr. Edwards, found him this morning in one of the stalls," Ash said. "It seems there's been an accident."

Tamsin sank onto the cot. "What kind of accident?"

Ash's eyes were hard. "According to Sheriff Walker, the boy fell from the hayloft onto a pitchfork."

"Poor Javier," Tamsin said. "Oh, God, I hope it's not my fault that he's dead. First Sam Steele, now the boy."

"But how could you be responsible?" Mrs. Zajicek asked. "You were here in jail. It's simply a terrible coincidence."

"It's no coincidence," Ash said. "Somebody killed Javier to keep him from telling what he knew about the missing horses."

"My thoughts exactly, Mrs. MacGreggor," Dimitri agreed. "All we have to do now is find out who murdered Javier, and that may tell us the identity of Sam Steele's real killer."

"If the murderer killed this child, Mrs. MacGreggor may be next," Helen said. "She's in great danger."

"I'll spend the next week sitting outside this cell," Ash replied. "No one will get past me to harm her."

"No," Dimitri said. "You're both wrong. Mrs. MacGreggor is as safe as in God's hands."

"How so, my dear?" his wife asked.

"The killer wants Mrs. MacGreggor alive and well to stand trial for the crime. Without her, the blame might fall elsewhere."

"You're right," Ash agreed. "I hadn't thought-"

"If you want to help, I suggest you follow Henry,"

Dimitri said. "Shadow his every move. See who he talks to and where he goes."

"That makes sense to me," Tamsin said. "I've known all along who killed Sam. I just couldn't convince any of you."

The day dragged into afternoon and finally evening. Dimitri and his wife brought her supper and told her that Ash was watching the judge as they'd planned.

"I don't care what they think," Helen said. "I'm still worried about you."

"I'll be fine," Tamsin replied. "At least until the trial. I can't say that the accommodations are the finest I've ever enjoyed, but no one has bothered me."

"And let's hope it stays that way," the older woman said. "Court day can't come too soon to suit me."

Sometime after midnight, Tamsin was awakened by coarse male voices and the stamping of feet. Curses and laughter followed, and shortly the deputy entered the cell area carrying a kerosene lamp. "Got company for you, woman."