Page 34 of Love and Order

CHAPTER 4

It had been a long day of travel. Once they’d reached the boardinghouse, Mrs. Ingram had graciously fixed them a light supper, despite it being late. The other boarders were cordial and sat in the parlor, passing the time. But everyone filtered off to their respective rooms for the night, leaving only Joe and Calliope with Andie.

“I’m so happy you’re here.” Calliope leaned her head against Andie’s shoulder.

“It feels like a dream.” And it had finally come true, though not without some rough patches. Learning of Rion’s legal troubles had been an unwelcome turn. Could she defend him in court? She’d never taken the lead before—particularly not in a murder case. In fact, she’d had little courtroom experience, other than watching Papa argue his cases since she was a child. If the timing were better, that’s what she would do: ask Papa to defend Rion. But he had several big cases he was scrambling to prepare for, especially since she was now here. To make matters worse, he’d fallen from a ladder and broken several ribs, which allowed pneumonia to take hold. He was on the mend, but it had slowed him down. With all that, she couldn’t ask Papa to come. If Rion needed an attorney, how could she not try? Their brother could lose his life if she didn’t.

He could also lose his life if she failed. The thought turned her stomach.

Oh, Father! How should I answer this request? I feel unequal to the task.

There would be no trial until Rion was captured again—or turned himself in. Papa’s schedule might very well clear before then.

Please, let that be the case, Lord. Rion needs a competent attorney. Not me!

Something struck the window nearest them, a rapid succession of light taps, almost like rain splattering the window. Both she and Calliope looked at the window. Joe also perked up. After several seconds, the unusual sound repeated, then again some seconds after that.

“Callie, turn down the lamp.” Joe paced toward the window while she did.

As the light dimmed, Joe peeked into the darkness beyond.

Again, the faint taps came—and Joe cupped his hand over his eyes to see out.

“Oh my word! I think Rion’s outside!”

Calliope launched from the settee. “He is?”

Another series of taps came.

“What’s making that sound?” Andie also rose to stare at the window.

“I think he’s throwing pebbles at our window.”

“I’m going out there.” Calliope headed for the front door, but Joe whipped around.

“Calliope, no.”

She turned on him. “He’s my brother.” Her voice was an urgent hush. “ Our brother!”

“Let me check first. I’ll make sure it’s him and not whoever’s been masquerading as him. If it is, we’ll all meet at the barn.”

Calliope sobered. “You’re right. But hurry, please!”

Joe walked past, pausing to kiss her forehead before moving to the front door where his gun belt and pistol hung. He unholstered the gun, unlocked the door, and slipped out.

Calliope hurried back to Andie’s side. “If it is him, that would make today perfect.”

Excitement warred with dread in her heart. Yes—perfect to meet both her brother and her sister in the same day. But professionally, it would mean she could be forced to defend him in court—and risk the shame of losing his freedom or his life if she failed.

Joe returned minutes later, reholstering the pistol.

“Is it him?” Calliope’s voice was still cloaked in whispers.

Joe swung the gun belt around his hips. “It is.”

Andie’s breath caught, and her head swam.

As he buckled the belt in place, he nodded toward the back of the house. “We’ll go out that way. He’s heading there now.”

Calliope grabbed her hand and almost dragged her toward the back door. They eased past Mrs. Ingram’s and Hattie’s rooms, and Joe unlocked the door.

Once outside, Calliope bounded down the porch steps and toward the barn, where the door stood slightly ajar. Joe locked the door, pocketed the key, and waved Andie toward the path Callie had taken. In the barn, Joe lit a match, where her sister wept in the arms of a large, unkempt, dark-haired man. He looked her way.

“Andromeda?”

A knot lodged in her throat until she could only nod.

His eyes glistened. “I can’t believe it. I’ve been lookin’ for you. For years.” One-armed, he hoisted Calliope and carried her to where Andie stood, then pulled her also into the hug.

For the second time that day, emotions broke free, and Andie wept in her brother’s arms. When finally the emotions abated, she pulled back.

“Calliope said you were hurt.”

“I’m better. Shoulder’s still tender, but that happens with a bullet wound.”

“Wounds.” Calliope overemphasized the s . “The bullet went through—here and here.” She touched the front of her shoulder, then the back.

Rion glared. “So much for not worryin’ her.” He grinned. “Wounds. Two. They’re healin’ just fine. And what about you?” He shrugged. “Tell me … everything.”

Something between a laugh and a sob bubbled up, and she shook her head. “We haven’t time for everything now. But I’m well. I was adopted by a wonderful, childless couple who doted on me and treated me like their own. I’ve led a wonderful life.”

“Good.” His jaw firmed, and for a moment, he looked like he might succumb to his own emotions, though he breathed deeply until it passed. “It eases my guilt, knowin’ y’all both led good lives.”

Joe cleared his throat. “Rion, I think it’s time you turn yourself in.”

He shook his head. “I haven’t found the fella with the similar boot tracks yet.”

“And I doubt you will. If that fella, whoever he is, knows Miss Hattie’s been found—”

“How is Hattie?”

“She’s mending. And she’s said she knows it wasn’t you who took her.”

Rion nodded.

“As I was saying, if the imposter knows Hattie’s in town, it doesn’t make sense for him to keep leavin’ boot tracks like yours. If he could’ve found her, he’d have left boot tracks like yours while he finished the job he started. But when we found her and brought her home, if he was smart, he’d have changed out of those boots.”

Rion nodded. “I had similar thoughts.”

“All right. So you’re not gonna find him. At least, not by his tracks—and probably not easily.”

“But I been checkin’ on the wanted posters we pulled out. Looked into three of ’em. I got three more to go.”

“Callie and I can take that over.”

Again, Rion shook his head. “I know the cases, the people. I can get it done faster.”

“Not when there are people lookin’ for you. You could be shot again. Killed. You’ve done half the work. Callie and I can finish the rest while you stay in the safety of the jail.”

Rion grinned. “I’ve proved how unreliable those jail bars are.”

Joe folded his arms. “And I trust you’re not going to again.”

Callie tapped his arm. “Rion, Andie’s father is an attorney, and so is she.”

Andie’s heart sank, especially when his eyes rounded.

“You’re joshin’.”

“No—not joshing. But—” How could she say this? “I’ve never tried a case in court. I’ve only helped Papa prepare his.”

“But you could, couldn’t ya?” The hope in Rion’s eyes was unsettling. “Because I’m in a lot of trouble.”

“I—” Her stomach knotted until it hurt. Oh, dear Jesus. “Of course I can. I—I will.”

He engulfed her with another hug, and she fought the urge to vomit.

“All right. If you and Calliope will keep searchin’ and Andromeda will defend me … I’ll turn myself in.”

She couldn’t breathe. Lord, how can I live with myself if Rion loses his life because I failed?

Sunday, July 13, 1873

The itinerant preacher wasn’t in town this weekend, so first thing after breakfast, Daniel put on his best suit and headed toward the sheriff’s office. Hopefully, Downing would be in so he could get more details on the murdered women. As a lawyer and an officer of the court, there might be work he could do to help the sheriff—and as tight as his finances were after weeks away, any work was welcome.

Rounding the last corner, his steps faltered. A crowd surrounded the log building, filling the porch outward toward the big pine that once served as the jail. He hurried on, weaving his way through the crowd to the door. The door was locked. Sweeping his hat off, he peered in the window.

Another smaller crowd occupied the office, but when he rapped on the glass, a sullen Downing glared his way then beckoned him in. Daniel mouthed, It’s locked. The sheriff flicked the key and jerked the door open.

“All of you, git!” He flung a hand at the crowd. “Go on now or I’ll start makin’ some arrests.”

“For what?” someone shouted.

“I’ll come up with somethin’!” He turned Daniel’s way. “You. Inside.” He addressed the mob. “Everyone else better be gone next time I stick my head out this door.” Once Daniel slipped inside, Downing slammed the door and locked it again.

Aside from Downing was the big bounty hunter, Braddock, Stephen Nesbitt, and Kezia Jarrett, and another brunette woman—childlike in size and stature and with a baby face. But the adoring way she and Braddock looked at one another said she might not be as young as his first glance indicated.

In the corner near the stove, the shrew from the train looked puzzled at him. Perhaps it was the fancier duds.

“Morning, Miss McGovern.”

She cleared her throat softly. “Mr. Littrick.”

“I’d say it’s a pleasure, but that hardly applies to our past encounters.”

“At least you’ve proven you understand the value of cleanliness.”

“Well, as the great John Wesley said, ‘Cleanliness is next to godliness.’ ”

She arched a brow. “Too bad you didn’t apply that principle yesterday. You were in a most ungodly state.”

Heat washed through him. “You know, I wasn’t gonna bring it up, but since you broached the topic—you looked shiny and fresh, miss, but you smelled a little ungodly yourself.”

She gasped, and her face turned a deep red.

“Littrick!” the sheriff bellowed, drawing both his and Miss McGovern’s attention.

Braddock now occupied a cell, and Miss Jarrett comforted the youthful woman.

Downing waved him into the storeroom and closed the door after them.

“Yes, sir?”

“I already contacted the marshal to see when we can get Braddock on the judge’s schedule.” He spoke in a tone only Daniel would hear. “Since he’s already escaped once, it needs to be soon. He said it’d be six weeks before they can get here.”

“All right?”

“So … find me that justice of the peace, Judge Oakwell.

He’ll get here sooner.”

It wasn’t unusual for territorial judges to be booked out for months. Zebulun Oakwell was usually available—but only because he was such a poor judge. “Why the rush?”

The sheriff snorted. “That bounty hunter’s a pain in my backside. He won’t escape me again.”

“All right, but do you mind if I look for a more competent judge? Oakwell’s the worst.”

“He’ll be available. A quick trial’s important to me.”

Not what Daniel wanted to hear, but he nodded. “Talk to you once I know anything.”

The sheriff reached for the door, though Daniel stopped him.

“How’s Miss McGovern mixed up in this?”

“Who?”

“The woman standin’ by the stove?”

“Oh.” Downing smirked. “Her.” He chuckled. “Considerin’ I’m expecting you to prosecute, she’s your courtroom opponent: Braddock’s attorney.”

With that, Downing motioned Daniel out.