by Deb Stover
But somewhere there were such things–electric lights, telephones and cars, too. Airplanes? Yes, there had to be. Either that or Sofie's imagination was even more dangerous than she'd realized. Redemption seemed to be in its own little world. Weird.
"It doesn't matter right now," she added quickly, realizing they were all staring at her. "There are more important things to discuss."
The marshal nodded and flashed her a heart-stopping smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "That's a fact." He turned to face Mrs. Fleming. "Sam Weathers, ma'am. United States Marshal outta Ft. Smith."
"Pleased to meet you, Marshal. I'm Anna Fleming." She waved toward the others. "My daughter Dora, Father Salazar and this is Sofie. I guess you already know everybody else."
Marshal Weathers nodded and leaned back in the chair, his narrowed gaze settling on Zeke. "Well, if you really ain't plannin' to run, Zeke, then my job here just got a whole lot simpler."
"I ain't got no more call to run." Zeke's expression revealed only resignation.
"I can't imagine why you've come for Zeke," Sofie said, trying to avoid Father Salazar's probing gaze. Why was he staring at her so?
Zeke sighed. "It's true, Miss Sofie. The marshal's gotta take me back to Ft. Smith." He lowered his gaze. "To hang."
"No." Mrs. Fleming's voice was clear and strong. "This is wrong, Marshal. Surely you realize that."
Marshal Weathers placed his hat on the table before him, staring at it as if all the answers were there in its soiled brim. After a few moments, he met Mrs. Fleming's gaze. "I don't make the laws, ma'am," he said slowly, "but I'm sworn to uphold 'em, just the same."
"I understand that." Dora gripped her mother's hand, her face reddening. "But couldn't you just leave and forget you ever saw Zeke?"
"Marshal cain't do that, Miss Dora," Zeke said. "It'd be wrong."
"No, what's wrong is hanging men and boys for doing what had to be done." Dora's voice cracked.
"Do you know what happened?" Father Salazar came to the table and he gripped the back of the chair so tightly his knuckles turned white. "Do you know why Zeke killed those two men, Marshal?"
Sam Weathers blinked once and met Father Salazar's gaze. The tension between the two men crackled through the room like lightning. Sofie held her breath, waiting for the marshal to answer.
"I do." Sam Weathers sighed slowly and shook his head. "And I would've done the same, considerin'."
"Then you realize it was justifiable homicide," Father Salazar said, his nostrils flaring and his jaw twitching. "Zeke Judson killed the men who raped and murdered his own mother and sister. How can the law condemn any man for that?"
Marshal Weathers didn't even flinch, but Sofie was mesmerized by the passion in Father Salazar's voice. At this moment, he was the most magnificent man she could imagine.
And a priest.
Why couldn't she seem to remember that fact? Looking at Father Salazar as a man wasn't allowed. He was off limits, yet knowing that didn't prevent her gaze from devouring the length of him again. Her cheeks–and other regions–warmed at the sight. He was quite impressive in civilian clothes. Too impressive.
She closed her eyes and forced her attention back to the marshal. Though he was every inch a hunk, Sofie's tastes leaned more toward men like Father–
No! Besides, how did she know what her tastes in men were? She couldn't remember any of the men in her life.
"Like I said, Father, I don't make the laws." Marshal Weathers turned to face Mrs. Fleming again. "Now, tell me about this Shane Latimer, ma'am."
Mrs. Fleming blinked rapidly, but a tear trickled down her cheek despite her efforts. "His father was a horrible man," she said, her voice quivering. "Shane and Jenny's mother came to us on two separate occasions, after her husband had–after he had..."
Dora took her mother's hand in hers and met the marshal's gaze. "Charlie Latimer was a drunk, and he beat his wife nearly to death." She paused to draw a fortifying breath. "Twice that we know of, though Lord only knows what happened before they moved here."
Mrs. Fleming nodded and met the marshal's gaze again. "Both times, Shane brought his mother and Jenny to us afterward."
"Jenny is Shane's sister?"
"Yes." Mrs. Fleming cleared her throat and drew a deep breath. "The first time, Dr. Wilson talked Shane out of going after his father, though the boy wanted to. Understandably, of course."
The marshal leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "And the second time?"
Mrs. Fleming and Dora exchanged glances and Sofie held her breath. Waiting. She'd known there was more to this than a simple case of Shane killing his father.
A noise sounded from the pantry, and Ab jumped up to open the door. Jenny stared out at them, trembling.
Mrs. Fleming rushed over to take the child's hand and led her from the large closet. "What on earth...?"
"I...I was scared," Jenny said, her gaze darting around the room. "I saw the bad man."
"What bad man, honey?" Mrs. Fleming smoothed the child's hair gently. "Only good men are here now. What's wrong, child? Don't be frightened."
"My pa...papa was a very bad man."
Mrs. Fleming tried to gather Jenny in her arms, but Jenny pulled free and approached the table. "My brother carried Mama to Mrs. Fleming's house," the girl explained, her voice quivering. "There was so much...so much blood." Her voice fell to a whisper. "Her face..."
She stood erect, her blond braids hanging neatly in front of her shoulders, her hands clasped before her. "Papa hit Mama all the time, and sometimes he hit me, too."
"Oh, God," Father Salazar whispered, followed by something too faint to identify, though it sounded a great deal like "bastard."
"I'm sorry, honey," Marshal Weathers said softly. Expectantly.
"I remember him hitting Shane, too, but that was be...before my brother got big." Jenny blinked once. Twice. "That last time, my brother went back after he made sure Mama was all right."
Sofie couldn't breathe. She was terrified to hear the rest of the story, yet she sensed Jenny needed to tell it at least once. All of it. Sofie glanced anxiously at Father Salazar to find his gray eyes wide and his mouth drawn into a thin line.
"While Mrs. Fleming and Dora were helping Dr. Wilson with Mama," Jenny continued, her expression distant as if she were in a trance, "I followed Shane."
"Jenny, no." Mrs. Fleming stepped behind the girl and gathered her back against her. "Don't do this to yourself, child."
"I got to." The child's adamance made even Mrs. Fleming fall silent. "My brother went back in the cabin, and Papa hit him. He hit him so hard Shane fell down and didn't get up."
Several moments of silence stretched between them as they all waited for the child to finish her morbid tale. Sofie wanted to tell Jenny not to torment herself this way, but by the same token, she had to know what happened. Every sordid detail.
"I thought maybe he never would get up again. Maybe Papa'd killed him." Jenny sniffled and reached up to hold Mrs. Fleming's hand at her shoulder. "But he finally did. I seen him through the window. There was blood all over his face, just like mama's."
She sniffled and hiccupped. No one said a word.
"Papa hit him again, and Shane fell again." She looked down for a moment, then aimed her gaze directly at Marshal Weathers. "Then I heard a horse."
"A horse?" Mrs. Fleming stepped around Jenny and turned the child to face her. "I don't remember you telling this before, Jenny."
"I was afraid," she whispered, her hand trembling as tears slipped unheeded down her cheeks. "Still a...afraid."
"What did you see, Jenny?" Marshal Weathers had a voice like raw silk–rough and smooth at the same time.
"I hid behind a bush."
"Who did you see?" Father Salazar's voice was gentle.
"Bad man."
"The same bad man who made you come hide here?" the Marshal asked.
"I can't tell you. He'll hurt me, too."
Luke shuddered. He was supposed to
be a priest, dammit. Surely, he could come up with something comforting enough to convince Jenny to tell them everything.
He remembered Shane's expression when the boy had asked Luke to tell Jenny he couldn't take care of her like he'd promised their mother. Luke's gut clenched and he gripped the back of the chair again so tightly he thought it would break.
His gaze drifted around the table, studying the faces as they all waited for Jenny to stop crying and finish her story. Could she clear her brother and prevent him from being hanged?
Luke wouldn't–couldn't–let Shane hang. Or Zeke either for that matter. He'd been thrown back in time and had his ass saved for a reason. Here it was right in front of him.
Two condemned men, neither who deserved their fate.
He had to stop their executions. This was his mission. His purpose. How could he deny it? Swallowing hard, he touched the crucifix, drawing strength from its smooth surface. What would the real Father Salazar have said to these people? To Jenny Latimer in particular?
"I..." Luke's voice caught and he cleared his throat. "I won't let anyone hurt you, Jenny," he vowed, praying he knew what the hell he was doing. "Tell Marshal Weathers everything you saw. You have to do it for Shane."
Jenny turned her hopeful gaze on him and his heart broke. Luke drew a deep breath, renewing his vow to protect this child and to save two men from injustice.
"Tell me, Jenny," Marshal Weathers urged quietly. "Puttin' bad men in jail is my job."
And sometimes not-so-bad men, like Zeke.
A tear trickled down Jenny's cheek and Luke stepped around the table and reached for her hand. "Tell us, Jenny," he coaxed. "Tell us everything so we can help your brother."
Her lower lip trembled and more tears followed.
"Jenny," Sofie said softly, standing to take the girl's other hand. "Do it for your Mama. She'd want you to help your brother."
The big guns. Do it for your Mama. Luke closed his eyes for a moment, then reopened them to meet Sofie's gaze. Her large blue eyes glistened with unshed tears and sincerity.
Jenny Latimer and Sofie were looking to him for support. He wouldn't fail them like he'd failed his grandparents. No way. And he wouldn't fail Shane and Zeke either, even if he had to break them out of jail himself.
So now you're Superman, Nolan?
Weeping quietly, Mrs. Fleming slumped into the chair vacated by Sofie. Dora reached for her hand, and Ab held Dora's.
This was a regular crying orgy.
"Tell us, Jenny," Luke urged. "No one will hurt you." Please, help me make it so.
"I saw the bad man shoot Papa." Jenny's voice fell to a whisper. "Papa fell and he shot again. Shane was still on the floor, and I thought the second shot..."
Tears burst from Jenny's eyes like someone had turned on a faucet, and Sofie dropped to her knees to cradle the girl against her shoulder. "There, there, Jenny," Sofie cooed. "It'll be all right. Father Salazar promised."
Sofie tilted her head just enough to meet Luke's gaze, and he held his breath. She intended to hold him to his promise. Oh, shit.
Of course, he fully intended to keep his promise, as well. To Shane, to Jenny, to Zeke...
And to himself.
"Who's the law around here?" Marshal Weathers asked, jerking Luke's attention away from Sofie and Jenny.
"Sheriff Yates died in the epidemic," Dora said. "Early on."
The marshal rubbed his whiskered chin. "I see. And when's the circuit judge due back?"
"Don't rightly know," Ab said, shooting a side glance in Zeke's direction. "Ain't seen him since Shane's sentencing, 'cuz of the quarantine."
"Well, then." Marshal Weathers twirled his hat in a circle on the table, then looked up to meet Luke's gaze. "I reckon it's up to you and me then."
Uh-oh. Luke swallowed hard. "What is?"
"Justice, Father," the marshal said matter-of-factly. "Justice."
What incredible irony. Luke almost laughed. Hell, he should laugh, after all he'd been through.
"Until Miss Jenny's ready to tell us the killer's name," Weathers continued, "we gotta protect her from harm. It's our duty."
"She's going home with us," Mrs. Fleming said, looking anxiously at the little girl. "Aren't you, dear?"
Jenny only blinked.
"We don't know who we're dealin' with here," Zeke said thoughtfully. "Beg pardon, ma'am, but if I was lookin' for Miss Jenny in this here town, I reckon your house'd be the first place I'd look."
"You have a point." Mrs. Fleming folded her hands and met the marshal's gaze. "But one thing is perfectly clear from what Jenny's told us. Her brother is innocent."
"Yep, that's the way I see it, too." The marshal looked at Luke again. "Father, you new to these parts?"
Luke squeezed Jenny's hand and flashed Sofie what he hoped was a reassuring look before he faced the marshal. "Oh, yeah, real new."
"The Padre and Miss Sofie come durin' the quarantine," Zeke offered.
"Right." Luke felt Sofie's questioning gaze on him.
"And we didn't waste any time putting you to work, I'm afraid," Mrs. Fleming said, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. "I'm convinced God sent Father Salazar and Sofie to us. She's a doctor, you know, and it's clear she has a way with children, too."
"That's a fact. Miss Jenny trusts her, and I trust Miss Jenny." The marshal shot Sofie a curious look. "I only come across a lady doctor once before, and that was down in Indian Territory. Cherokee, she was."
"Indian Territory?" Sofie whispered, renewing Luke's resolve to avoid looking at her right now.
Zeke shook his head. "Well, I'll be."
Marshal Weathers stood and walked toward the window. He stared outside for several moments, then turned to face them again. A strange light glittered in his eyes. "I got a plan."
Luke had a strange feeling he'd live to regret this. "Whatever it takes, Marshal."
A calculating grin split the lawman's face. "I'm glad to hear you say that, Father. Mighty glad."
Oh, boy. "Just what do you have in mind?" Luke could've kicked himself. Still, he meant every word. He would do whatever it took to prevent Shane's hanging, then he'd worry about Zeke.
"Where you stayin', Father?"
"Father Salazar is staying in the parsonage," Dora Fleming said. "Sadly, Reverend Bodine and his wife both perished in the epidemic, too."
Marshal Weathers was silent for several moments, then he returned to the table. "You folks have had more'n your share of grief. That's a fact."
Mrs. Fleming nodded and sniffled. "Yes, it's been hard to lose so many friends and neighbors, Marshal."
Though the man seemed completely sincere, Luke also recognized a slyness to Marshal Weathers that just might manage to save Shane Latimer's hide. The marshal wasn't old by any means–thirtyish–but he had the cunning of a seasoned professional. Yes, he might save the day, but at what cost?
The marshal looked directly at Jenny Latimer, who still whimpered quietly in Sofie's arms. "Miss Jenny, I gotta ask you one more thing now."
Jenny sniffled and looked up at the marshal. "All..all right."
"Is the bad man who made you come hide the same one who killed your pa?"
Holy cow, this guy could've been a prototype for the Lone Ranger, Matt Dillon, and Rooster Cogburn. Luke could almost see the tension in the room as every gaze turned toward Jenny.
Finally, the little girl gave Marshal Weathers the most trusting look Luke had ever seen.
And nodded.
"Do you know the man's name?"
Another nod.
The marshal leaned on the back of the chair and maintained his sincere expression, his gaze never wavering. "Are you ready to tell me the fella's name, so I can put him in jail?"
Jenny's lower lip trembled, and she shook her head so violently, her pigtails swung back and forth.
To his credit, Marshal Weathers didn't even blink, though he must've felt the same level of disappointment as Luke. What's his game?
"I understand, Miss Je
nny." The lawman straightened and released a long sigh. "We gotta protect you, then, until you're ready to tell."
If there was any possibility the killer knew there'd been a witness to his crime, then Jenny was in grave danger. Unless...
Too bad the killer hadn't been a smallpox victim. There really was no justice in this world.
"Miss Jenny, 'til you're ready to tell us everythin', I got no choice but to keep your brother in jail." The marshal looked down at his hand as if checking his nails for cleanliness. "I'll tell him we know he's innocent, but he's gotta stay put until two things happen."
"Wha...what two things?" Jenny sniffled and met the marshal's gaze.
"First, the circuit judge has gotta come set him free."
"Praise God," Mrs. Fleming said, and a bright smile lit Jenny's face.
"But there's another thing."
Sly dog. Luke knew Sam Weathers had left that statement incomplete for impact. Luke's grandfather had loved Westerns, so they'd watched them on television every weekend throughout Luke's childhood. Marshal Weathers was the epitome of the tallest, leanest, meanest, and most honorable cowboy who'd ever graced the silver screen.
No wonder Sofie was still staring.
Damn. Luke had to get his jealousy under control. He'd come here to talk to Sofie, but this situation had cut that short. Maybe for the best. Being alone with her probably wasn't a very good idea at this point.
"What other thing?" Jenny finally asked.
"The man who killed your pa is still in town," the marshal said slowly, "so you and Shane both might be in danger."
Jenny's eyes widened.
"We can protect Shane in jail easy enough...."
"Will you put me in jail, too?" The child's pupils dilated and Luke thought she might faint.
Marshal Weathers shook his head. "Nope, I got another idea."
He looked right at Luke. After a moment, his gaze drifted to Sofie. "I don't reckon that killer would look for you at the parsonage."