Judith French - Morgan's Woman

"Marlborough-"Judge Steele began.

"Shut up, Henry," Marlborough said. He rapped the table again. "Henry Steele to pay the fine of one hundred dollars for contempt of court."

"One hundred dollars?"

"Make that five hundred dollars. Fine dismissed if Judge Steele provides this court with proof of his marriage to Mrs. Samuel Steele within twenty-four hours."

"That's blackmail," Henry retorted.

Judge Marlborough fixed him with a steely, if somewhat unfocused, gaze. "Will you or will you not do the honorable thing by this lady?"

"But you're going to try her for murder."

"I am. But that doesn't mean you don't have a responsibility toward her child."

Sarah looked at Henry hopefully.

"I will, damn it," Henry replied.

"Good." Marlborough stood up unsteadily. "Dimitri, your client is free to go."

"Which client, your honor?" Zajicek asked. Bucky Marlborough chuckled. "Mrs. MacGreggor. You'll have a more difficult job defending the other one."

"Perhaps," the lawyer replied. "But there are extenuating circumstances."

"Aren't there always?" Marlborough slammed his Colt down a final time. "This court is no longer in session."

Tamsin and Ash returned with Dimitri to the boardinghouse, where his wife, Helen, joined them for a celebration supper. The owner had set up a private table for the four of them in a small chamber off the main dining room.

"How brilliant of you to suspect Mrs. Steele," Helen remarked.

Dimitri smiled and patted his wife's hand. "Hardly brilliant. We were running out of suspects, and Mrs. Steele had as much reason to want to be rid of her husband as Judge Steele did. And she seemed entirely too sympathetic toward Mrs. MacGreggor. Naturally, if Ashton hadn't identified the livery owner as a wanted criminal using an alias, we would have been in a difficult position with that jury."

"Edwards's escape attempt didn't do us any harm either," Ash put in.

"I don't care. You're still a brilliant lawyer," Helen said. "You would have thought of something. You always do."

"Thank you, my dear. I'm glad you think so," Dimitri answered, and then went on to explain the details of Sarah Steele's confession.

"But how will you defend her?" Helen asked. "Since she's already confessed to the shooting."

"Extenuating circumstances," Tamsin put in.

Dimitri nodded. "Exactly."

Ash hardly heard a word. He was as jittery as a steer at a barbecue, and he couldn't take his eyes off Tamsin. There was so much he wanted to say to her, so much that they needed to settle as soon as they were alone together. But he couldn't be rude to Dimitri and his wife by refusing their hospitality after all they had done for Tamsin.

Supper was steak, potatoes, and gravy, with homemade biscuits, and gingerbread for dessert, better food than he'd had in a month. He couldn't help noticing that Tamsin was pushing her food around her plate, barely nibbling at her meat. He supposed that the trial had made her as nervous as he was.

Dimitri and Helen kept up the conversation during the meal, more than making up for Tamsin's unnatural quiet. Ash didn't say much either, but he managed to finish his gingerbread and hers, then washed it all down with two cups of strong black coffee.

"Would you like to go walking with me, Tamsin?" he asked when they'd finished supper, and she folded her napkin and laid it on the table. As soon as they got outside, out of earshot of eavesdroppers, he meant to ask her to marry him. He even had Aunt Jane's wedding ring in his shirt pocket. He hoped it would fit her finger.

Tamsin frowned. "I'm sorry," she said hesitantly. "I'm really feeling very tired. Perhaps in the morning-"

Confused, he rose to his feet. "What do you mean in the morning? I've got-"

She looked at Dimitri's wife and two spots burned red on her cheeks. "Mrs. Zajicek has kindly offered to share her bedchamber with me tonight."

Dimitri laughed. "I'm afraid you'll have to bunk with me in the attached parlor, Ashton. There are so many people in town for the trial, the only other rooms available are those on the second floor of the Rooster."

"Mr. Zajicek!" Helen admonished. "Sorry, my dear. My apologies, Mrs. MacGreggor," he replied with a chuckle.

Tamsin shook her head. "No, don't apologize. After what you've done for me, nothing you could say would offend me."

"Don't be too sure," his wife remarked. "My Mr. Zajicek can be quite rowdy when he's taken a nip. And I fear he's had more than one today."

"Good night, Ash," Tamsin said. "I really am tired." She walked through the doorway into a narrow hallway lit by a curtainless window.

He followed and grabbed her arm. "Why?" Ash demanded.

Brilliant green eyes framed by thick lashes stared into his. "I'm telling you the truth, Ash. I'm not feeling well. And Mrs. Zajicek invited me to stay with her. What was I supposed to say? I'm sleeping with Ash Morgan? Announce to the whole town that no, I'm not a murderer, but I am a loose woman?" She pulled away. "We're not in the mountains anymore, are we? There is a code that good women live by, and… I may have strayed, but I've not fallen, Ash. I can't be that easy anymore."

"Hell, I thought you and me…"What had come over her? She seemed a stranger, making him suddenly at a loss for words.

"I'm not ungrateful for what you've done," she said. "I don't blame you for anything that happened. No one forced me to become intimate with you."

"What are you talking about? You know what we have together, you and me."

"No… I don't know. And that's what I have to think about." Flushing, she turned abruptly and started up the stairs.

"Tamsin?"

"Tomorrow."

He didn't know whether to swear or go after her and kiss her. Having the charges dismissed should have made her happy… And if she wouldn't talk to him, how was he going to tell her that he wanted to marry her?

"Women," he muttered. His arm was aching where the bullet had nicked him, and he was working on a hell of a headache. Damn if he wouldn't go back to the saloon and have a drink himself.

Tamsin closed the bedroom door and leaned against it. Her heart was beating rapidly, and she felt lightheaded. Either she was coming down with the ague or she really was with child.

She went over to the bed and sat down. She'd hurt Ash, and she hadn't meant to. The moments of elation when the judge had dismissed her charges had given way to uncertainty.

California seemed farther away than ever.

Since her husband's death, her dream had kept her going. She'd been determined to prove wrong Lawyer Crawshaw and all the others who'd laughed at her.

If she told Ash that she thought she was carrying his child, she knew that he'd take care of her, might even feel that it was his duty to marry her. She loved him, but that wasn't the way she wanted to start a marriage. And suppose she wasn't pregnant at all? Her body might simply be reacting to the ordeal she'd been through. Could she say to Ash later, "Well, I thought I was in the family way, but I'm not? Sorry, my mistake."

He'd never promised her anything beyond what they had, wonderful memories that she would carry with her for the rest of her life. Forcing him into marriage by holding fatherhood over his head didn't seem to her to be the most sensible of plans.

Could she simply ride away and give him up, loving him as much as she did? That was as bleak a thought as bearing a child without a father.

Slowly, she unbuttoned the bodice of her black dress and pulled it over her head. Next she struggled with the cursed steel-hooped crinoline, removed two petticoats, her shoes, and her stockings, leaving her standing barefoot in a simple linen chemise and calf-length cotton drawers.

All these fine garments were borrowed, too loose and too short in some places, too tight and confining in others. In truth, she had less now than when she'd come to Sweetwater. Her riding outfits, her spare clothing, and all of her personal possessions were lost. She had no money and no hope of earning more if she wished to reach California before winter snows blocked the passes.