Judith French - Morgan's Woman

He held her for a long time, until she stopped trembling, and his heartbeat returned to normal.

"I suppose we need to take them back to Sweetwater for a Christian burial."

Ash shrugged. "It would be the only decent thing to do." Then he added, "Of course, we could dig graves ourselves. If we had a shovel." He buried his face in her hair and hugged her again. "But since we don't, I'd say it's best we leave them to the coyotes."

It was hot enough to fry eggs on the wooden sidewalks of Sweetwater the afternoon of Tamsin's trial. Not a breath of air stirred in the Rooster's Den, the town's largest saloon.

Judge Buckson Marlborough, presiding justice, had taken one look at Henry Steele's chambers and appropriated Howie Knight's thriving business establishment for the proceedings. So much attention had been raised by the trial among the good citizens of Colorado Territory that seating was at a premium and the street outside was crowded with gawkers. One enterprising woman had filled the back of her wagon with a barrel of sweet cider, gingerbread, and pies, and was selling slices faster than her husband could count change. Across the street from the Rooster, a Baptist minister stood on a packing crate and preached the gospel to one aging Ute Indian, a German immigrant in lederhosen and steel-toed clodhoppers, and three heavily rouged ladies currently on holiday from their positions at the Rooster's Den.

Children, dogs, and poultry wandered amid the throng of noisy onlookers. Horses whinnied, chickens scratched, dogs barked, and babies wailed. Shopkeepers had moved their goods to the sidewalks in front of their establishments and were doing a brisk trade.

Inside the saloon, Tamsin fought a rising nausea in her stomach and tried to make eye contact with the jury as Dimitri had instructed. Twelve stern-faced men sat on hard wooden benches and stared at her with varying degrees of contempt as Henry Steele completed the final minutes of his damning testimony against her.

The splintery floorboards were sticky under her feet, and the overpowering stench of years of spilled beer, vomit, blood, and stale tobacco made her light-headed. Since her grandfather had always insisted Tamsin had the strength of a workhorse, her physical weakness made her believe that her suspicions were a certainty.

In the last harried weeks, her woman's time had come and passed without a show of blood. She'd tried to remember the last time she'd had her flow. It was definitely before Sam Steele's death. But after-she couldn't remember.

She strongly suspected that her intuition had been correct when she'd felt that she and Ash had made a child that glorious day at the hot springs.

"Tamsin?" Ash laid a hand on her bandaged arm.

"Mrs. MacGreggor. Are we boring you?" Judge Marl-borough asked.

His sarcasm sliced through her reverie, and she jerked upright. To her shock, she saw that the witness chair beside the justice's table was empty. Henry Steele had already taken his seat with the prosecutor to her left. The lawyer representing Colorado Territory, Russell King, was a big man with a paunch, gray sideburns, and a double chin.

"Will you honor us by taking the stand, Mrs. MacGreggor?" King asked sarcastically. The crowd loved his remark. Even two of the jurors snickered.

"I'm sorry," she murmured as she got to her feet.

"It's all right," Ash said quietly.

She really did feel unwell. The room seemed to be pitching. She wondered if they had earthquakes in Colorado.

Dimitri took her arm and helped her up the two steps to the bottom landing of the staircase where Judge Marl-borough presided. Today the doors to the social chambers above, which Tamsin supposed to be usually well oiled, remained firmly closed. According to her friend and lawyer, the upper floor of the Rooster was given over to lodging for gentlewomen. Tamsin doubted that there was a genuine lady among them.

Russell King asked question after question, all styled in a manner to make her look guilty. Dimitri had received letters from her hometown assuring the judge that Dancer and Fancy were legally hers. Unfortunately, statements from strangers in Tennessee didn't hold much water here in Colorado.

Tamsin tried to remain calm. She answered each accusation fully and with dignity. Some truths rang harsh in the courtroom.

"You admit to this jury that you went to Mr. Steele's stable with the express intention of stealing two valuable thoroughbreds?" the prosecutor asked.

"You don't understand," Tamsin began. "These were my-"

"Answer the question," King said.

"It's not possible to steal my own-"

Judge Marlborough rapped his gavel on the table. "Yes or no, Mrs. MacGreggor."

Tamsin bit back a peppery reply and said, "No. I did not."

King smiled. "Then why, may I ask, were you trespassing on property you had specifically been ordered to stay-"

"I think you should ask Judge Steele what he was doing there in the middle of the night," she replied.

"Objection," King protested. "The defendant is evading my questions."

Tamsin felt hotter and hotter inside the layers of clothing and boned corset Dimitri's wife had insisted she wear. The black silk taffeta folds of the flounced dress with its high collar and tight waist smothered her. Sweat beaded on her face and collected in the hollow of her upper lip. If she didn't get off this witness stand soon, she'd faint.

"Mrs. MacGreggor. Mrs. MacGreggor, you will answer the questions put to you by…"

The judge droned on, but Tamsin forced herself to sit straight and keep watching the members of the jury. She shifted her gaze from one to another with what she hoped was an honest demeanor.

"Your honor," Dimitri said. "I believe my client is unwell. Could you grant a short recess?"

"Objection," King said. "This is my witness. There's no need to delay this jury-"

"It's all right," Tamsin said. "I'm fine. I'm ready to proceed."

King continued with his grilling for nearly an hour; then finally she took her seat at the defense table and Ash clasped her hand.

"Good work," he whispered. "You'd have my vote for innocent."

Dimitri put a finger to his lips, warning them to silence as Sam Steele's weeping widow took the stand.

King's demeanor toward Sarah Steele was totally different from his manner with Tamsin. He spoke softly, sympathetically. He asked only a few questions, then excused her.

As she stepped down, the widow Steele's gaze met Tamsin's. Quickly Sarah looked away, but not before Tamsin saw her flush.

"She knows more than she's saying," Tamsin whispered to Dimitri.

Next, King called Edwards from the livery to testify as to Tamsin's behavior the day she found her horses missing.

Tamsin listened in disbelief as Edwards described two totally different animals that she supposedly left in his care." He's lying!" she cried.

"Order!" Judge Marlborough declared. "Hold your tongue, woman, or you'll be removed from my court."

"Like I said," the stable owner continued, "that woman left an old mare and a black gelding, neither one worth spit. The kid what worked for me, Javier, claims she came back that night with a man that matches the description of the outlaw Jack Cannon and took the horses away. Next day, she starts yellin' she had blooded stock…"

Ash stared at Edwards, then whispered in Dimitri's ear.

Tamsin's lawyer jumped to his feet. "Your honor, this man isn't-" King turned and glared at Dimitri. "This is my witness. Mr. Edwards-"

Ash stood up. "That's the problem, Judge. That's not Edwards on the stand. At least that's not his legal name. He's really Ed Jackson out of Kane's Crossroads, Missouri. He's wanted by the authorities there for horse stealing, extortion, and barn burning. I also believe he should be charged with Javier's murder."