скачать книгу бесплатно
Olney grudgingly obliged. “If it was up to me,” he grumbled, “I wouldn’t be letting you out, Brown.”
Elizabeth held out one gloved palm. “I’d like a receipt for my bail money, Harris.”
“We don’t have anything as fancy as receipts.”
“I would like a guarantee on my money. When Aaron shows up for his trial, I want every cent of it back.”
“Women! We don’t have any paper.” Elizabeth pulled two sheets of onionskin paper from her purse and handed them to Olney. The marshal hung the keys back on the peg, dipped his pen in the inkwell and began to scribble.
I, Aaron—a blotch—Brown, do solemnly swear to be at the Tin Cup Town Hall for the trial—another blotch—murdering Marshal Harris Olney by shooting him in the back.
“How can you write something about me murdering you? You’re standing right in front of me wording the thing.”
“Well, I’ve got to make you sign something now that I’ve turned you loose. Got to make sure you’ll come back for the trial.”
“Here.” Aaron reached for a second sheet of paper. “I’ll write it.”
“You go right ahead.” Harris dipped the pen and handed it to him.
I, Aaron Brown, do solemnly swear to appear at the Tin Cup Town Hall on the scheduled date at the scheduled hour to attend a trial in the court of law...
“Confound it.” Harris spit a wad of tobacco into the brass spittoon in the corner. “That’s enough already. Sign your name to it and be done.”
“Very well.” Aaron brandished the pen.
“Don’t forget about my receipt,” Elizabeth reminded the marshal, handing him another sheet of paper.
“I do hereby—blotch—acknowledge receipt of $500 for the bail of Aaron Brown. The money—blotch—be returned to Elizabeth Calderwood when Aaron Brown arrives to attend his trial. Signed on this day, April 25th, in the—blotch—year of 1882. Marshal Harris Olney.”
“Thank you, Marshal,” Elizabeth said, retrieving it victoriously and waving it so that the ink would dry. “We’ll see you on the day of the trial.”
“The trial is two days from now, Beth. We’ll expect Aaron there at nine on Thursday morning. I figure the hanging will be Friday.”
“We’ll see, Harris. We’ll see.”
“Beth.” Aaron touched her delicate, straight back with one of his grimy hands. “We’d best be leaving.”
Together, they marched out into the street where Elizabeth’s thirty-some-odd admirers were still waiting with profound patience.
“Show’s over, gentlemen.” Aaron kept his hand on the buttons at her waist. “The lady’s with me.”
“She won’t be with you very long, Brown,” Lesser Levy shouted. “Better enjoy the lady’s company until Friday. After that, it’ll be somebody else’s turn.”
“Ignore them,” Aaron whispered to her, pulling her closer.
“I have been.”
“Wish Olney had given me my gun back.”
“I can certainly see why he didn’t.”
“Where do you have us?”
“I’ve moved you to the Pacific Hotel. Thought it might be quieter over there.”
“I’m surprised Frank Emerson would let me stay there, being suspected of murder and all.”
“He doesn’t know you’ll be there, Aaron. I booked my room first. The way everyone acted when I came into town, I figured it would be a fair trade for Mr. Emerson. Figured they’d do anything to house a lady. If he gives me a fight when you book your room, I’ll just tell him I’d just as soon stay down at the Grand Central.”
Aaron had to smile at her. So Elizabeth wasn’t above concocting a bit of blackmail on her own.
They walked up the street toward Otto Violet’s law office, their heads together as they whispered, the hem of Beth’s sky-blue skirt flipping in the breeze, Aaron’s hand planted firmly against the small of her back, his fingers splayed against the fabric.
* * *
Uley rode behind them, astraddle one of the Gold Cup’s mules. She stopped Old Croppy dead in the middle of Washington Avenue. She felt something horrible down deep in her stomach, a grinding...as if she hadn’t had enough to eat...as if her belly wanted to consume itself. It wasn’t bad enough watching everyone following Elizabeth Calderwood all over Tin Cup. Now that Aaron Brown was out of jail, she’d have to watch the two of them sashaying along the streets, so happy to be together they might as well be at a barn dance instead of planning a defense at a trial.
Well, she’d just pretend she didn’t care. She didn’t care that Elizabeth Calderwood was the prettiest thing on two legs. She didn’t care that Aaron Brown walked along with his hand on Elizabeth Calderwood’s back as if he owned the whole town.
The problem was, she’d enjoyed having Aaron Brown all to herself, locked up behind bars, where she could talk to him.
Uley figured she was jealous. Only problem was, she couldn’t figure out exactly what she was jealous about.
She’d come to town to buy supplies for Carl Hord and Captain Hall up at the Gold Cup. They wouldn’t take kindly to her being gone this long. She knew she had to start up Old Croppy and ride him right by those two lovebirds on the street.
She kicked the mule once, and he bolted forward. She sat as straight as a new nail on his back, her knees locked around his bloated stomach, her hat pulled low over eyes that didn’t look anywhere except straight down her nose.
The old mule walked right past Elizabeth and Aaron, his hooves sinking into the mud from the melted snow. Uley adjusted the seat of her britches in the saddle, knowing full well that she was covered with mud and mine dust. Would Aaron Brown stop her? Would he offer a kind word? Assuredly not. But still, for some absurd reason, her heart pounded as hard as a miner’s hammer.
Old Croppy threw his head back, exposed most of his green teeth and brayed.
She’d give anything if Hall and Hord hadn’t asked her to come back into town just now.
Just as she expected, Aaron Brown gave her no sign of recognition. She stopped the mule in front of Campbell, Stahl & Company and climbed off. She didn’t have to worry about looping the reins over the hitching rail. There wasn’t much of anything that would make Old Croppy move. She knew he’d be standing in exactly the same position, right where she left him, when she came out of the supply store.
Out of the corner of one eye, she saw Elizabeth Calderwood and Aaron Brown strolling toward her. She didn’t dare glance that way. She kept her eyes straight ahead, shooting in exactly the same direction as her hat brim.
Men!
She decided right then it was easier to just be one than it was to try to figure one out.
* * *
The first thing Aaron wanted to do when he saw Uley riding by on that mule was holler at her and run to her out in the street. But he couldn’t very well say the things he wanted to say with Beth standing at his side. He’d made Uley Kirkland a promise, after all.
He didn’t like keeping secrets.
He made a vow, right then and there, that he’d go after Uley just as soon as he got time to himself. He needed to offer his thanks when they were alone and bars didn’t separate them. She’d posted the letter that had brought Elizabeth to his aid. He wanted her to know he didn’t take lightly the things she’d been willing to do. Doesn’t matter whether I blackmailed her or not, he thought.
All the while Beth chattered to him, outlining the plans for his defense, Aaron kept his eyes on Uley, watching as she swung one leg over that dilapidated excuse for a mule and tramped into Campbell, Stahl & Company. Now that he knew that a young woman was hidden beneath those nubby breeches and that shapeless sweater and all that mud, he could easily see her womanly features. Uley wasn’t all blustery and big around the middle like the fellows in this camp. When he watched her walk away, she looked all small and round and full of punch—like a fawn that leaped out of nowhere, turned its tail and bounded off into the forest. A gal, no doubt about it.
Every soul walking along the street tipped a hat and spoke to Elizabeth.
No one paid any attention to Uley, whatsoever.
It made for slow going. At this rate, they’d be lucky if they walked two blocks before Otto Violet’s office closed at sundown. Aaron wondered how much of a turmoil Uley would create if she stepped out wearing skirts one morning? Skirts...on top of the silhouette he’d seen as she’d alighted from the pack mule.
It was quite a thing for a gentleman to ponder—if you could call somebody on trial for murder a gentleman. Aaron decided right then and there that he’d like to see Uley Kirkland wearing yellow muslin. Yes, yellow it would be. The color would look just perfect with that red-honey hair of hers.
Hair he’d only really seen once.
Hair he’d been dreaming of, he realized.
Before he and Elizabeth were able to move even a few yards up the street, here came Uley again, tramping out of the supply store, her miner’s boots covered with dirt, her arms full of trowels and buckets and little orange boxes of square-headed nails. She started shoving things into the leather packs on the mule’s back, shifting the weight around, pausing once or twice to eye the load and make sure it wasn’t listing to one side.
She took up the rope and began working on the diamond hitch, working the hemp around and across and over so that the leather pouches wouldn’t slip sideways. She got up almost underneath that animal and started tying knots. When she did, she glanced up, and before he could look away, she caught him staring at her, as unable to draw his eyes away from hers as a moth was unable to draw its wings from molasses.
Goodness, he should say something. But what?
Hey, Uley. You’re doing a fine job of packing that mule.
Nope. He could do nothing with Elizabeth still beside him. Elizabeth, who was nodding her head every which way, as if she were a queen acknowledging her subjects.
He placed his hand on Beth’s elbow and did the only thing he knew to do. He met Uley’s gaze again. He grinned. And he winked at her.
Aaron wasn’t used to winking at women. Just as soon as he did it, he felt himself go red in the face.
She sure didn’t wink back. She glared out at him from between the mule’s legs, her gray-green eyes pinpointing him. She looked like a wolverine that was just about to attack.
He figured he’d been crazy to picture her in a dress. With Elizabeth beside him, there did seem to be a big difference between a lady in a dress and a mud-covered young girl who didn’t want anyone to see who she really was.
Father, came the prayer from his heart. You look upon hearts and not on the outsides. Would that You didn’t know the hatred for Olney that’s in my heart. Even in the middle of my punishment for it, I cannot make it go away.
Chapter Five
“I don’t care what I told you earlier, Miss Calderwood.” Otto Violet stared across the desk at both of them, little round spectacles perched precariously on a monstrous nose that looked as if it might pitch them off at any second. He pointed to the dusty red book on his desk. “I cannot find any defense in my law records for you, Mr. Brown. You have committed an actionable offense, and I believe you should be punished for it.”
“But I’ve given you a retainer,” Elizabeth reminded him.
“That you have,” he said. “So now I’m giving it back.” He slid the money she’d given him just this morning across the desk at her. “I won’t defend Mr. Brown. You went after our town marshal, sir. That is a case of public hanging, to be certain.” He thumped the book for good measure and sent whorls of dust into the air. “I’ve been thinking of it all day. I don’t like to lose cases. It mars my reputation. Therefore, I will not take this case at all.”
“But you promised.” Beth hadn’t touched the money on his desk.
“I don’t want you to worry yourself with this any longer. Come on.” Aaron squeezed her shoulders. “We’ve other lawyers in this town to choose from. I’d rather argue on my own behalf than trust someone with my life who doesn’t trust me.”
She gathered the money into her reticule, and together they returned to the street. But Violet’s refusal to represent them had been a blow to her. “There are only two others to choose from.” She dabbed at her eyes with a perfectly folded linen handkerchief. “And of the three, Otto Violet is the best.”
“I wonder,” Aaron said speculatively, “if Harris Olney is passing his own money around in this town.”
For all intents and purposes, Aaron might have been a different man when he and Elizabeth marched into Seth Wood’s esteemed law office an hour later. He’d had his first bath in three weeks. He’d shaved, too. And he’d splashed himself with bay rum and had put on his very best Sunday suit. He hoped the physical improvements would make him look more defendable.
He held the door open for Beth as the bell tinkled sharply to announce their arrival. And, strange as it might seem, Seth Wood was sitting at his desk looking as if he’d been waiting for their arrival.
“Ain’t no use you two coming in here,” he said brusquely. “I ain’t gonna represent you, neither.”
“You all been meeting and discussing my case?” Aaron growled. “Seems like everybody’s decided not to get involved with this at once.”
“We’ve decided we won’t be crazy, that’s all.”
“Has Harris Olney been sniffing around offering to pay you money if you’ll turn me down?”
“That’s no business of yours, Brown. You know that.”
“I know what’s fair,” Aaron said. “I’m entitled to a fair trial with a jury of my peers. Doesn’t look like I’m gonna get that.” He pointed a finger right between Seth Wood’s eyes. “My blood will be on your hands, Wood.”
“Nope,” the lawyer said stiffly. “You’ve brought the blood on yourself.”
By the end of their meeting with Wood, Aaron was as mad as a bear. “Beth, there’s no use you traipsing around all day at my side. You’re going to wear yourself out and not be any good to anybody tomorrow.”
“I thought I could help.”
“Well, I don’t see that your presence is doing anybody any good.” He didn’t mean to be unkind to her. It was just that he was as frustrated as he’d ever been in his life. And he figured that, at this rate, he wouldn’t have a life very long.
How he hated to see Olney win.
“Aaron.”
“I’m takin’ you back to the Pacific Hotel. You’ve helped me by coming, Beth. If nothing else, you got me free to walk the streets for two last days before I go on to glory. At this point, I’m appreciating every extra minute I get.” He had only one more chance at a lawyer. He wasn’t placing too much hope in that one, either. He figured Harris had made a point to get to all of them before he did.
He delivered Beth to the hotel and saw her safely to her room. Then he went to visit John Kincaid, the third and last lawyer to set up business in Tin Cup.
“Now look,” he said to Kincaid when he stomped in the door and saw the man sitting with feet crossed atop his desk, just waiting for him to walk in like all the others. “I don’t like this cat-and-mouse game.”
“Neither do I,” Kincaid said, swinging his boots to the floor.
“I guess I just went and got my hopes up,” Aaron went on. “Last week, I thought I was hanging for sure. This week, I start to see possibilities. Next thing I know, those possibilities are slipping away. I’m not a trapped animal, Kincaid. I don’t take kindly to being pounced on and played with.”
Kincaid rose slowly and went to stare out the front window of his office. “Never was too fond of Harris Olney myself.”
“You’re saying you’re not gonna take his money to tell me no.”
“I’m saying I’ll decide the merits of taking your case on my own, Mr. Brown. Whoever represents you Thursday is going to have a tough go of it. Everyone’s hungry for your hanging. And everyone’s hungry for a hero. Unfortunately, you gave them one when you got tromped on by Uley Kirkland.”
“Are you saying everybody wants to hang me just for Uley’s sake?”
“It would seem a proper show of respect for what that kid did.”
“I suppose I’m in trouble.”
