“I missed you, Aaron” she said as they walked past the other couples on the boardwalk. “I missed you terribly.”
He put his hand over hers. “I missed you, too, but sending you away was the best way I could keep you safe from the Hancocks.”
“I know. But a woman can still miss her fiancé, can’t she?”
He smiled at the thought of their marriage. He had not properly proposed to her, but after all they had been through since his wife Mary had left, the idea of marriage was only a formality to him. In his mind, they were already man and wife. “You still want to go through with that? Even after what you heard back there?”
Her reply was immediate. “Now more than ever.”
“Even after knowing what I did.”
“To men who had done it to innocents dozens of times over,” she said. “You were following orders, and even if you weren’t, whatever you did probably put the fear of God into any other young men like that Diablo fiend who were looking to do the same thing. You did good, Aaron, even in something horrible, so yes, I still want to marry you.”
“Even after I saddled you with Pappy for two months?”
“He was a delight,” she laughed. “A perfect gentleman. Always charming and sweet. And he never allowed me downstairs without looking the lobby over first. It’s a shame he never married again after your mother died.”
Mackey did not have the heart to tell her that Brendan Mackey had never lacked female companionship. There was always some lonely widow or unhappy housewife in Dover Station who gladly welcomed his attentions. Mackey had always been amazed that none of Pappy’s illicit relationships had never become a scandal, but they had not. If anything, his lovers had always remained admirers without their husbands becoming any the wiser. Or if they did, they were wise enough not to demand satisfying their honor.
Mackey rubbed his jaw. At almost sixty, the old man still kicked like a mule.
Katherine hugged Mackey’s arm. “There you go again, disappearing inside that head of yours.”
Mackey felt himself blush. “Sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“You always have a lot on your mind. Back in Dover Station, it was Darabont, or Grant, or Mary, or any of the dozens of thugs you went up against. Now it’s Nellie Hancock and Judge Forester and being marshal of the territory. You’re a brooding man, Aaron, which is why I love you. You never do anything lightly. Not even loving me.”
He found himself gripping her hand even tighter. “I’m glad you noticed.”
“I noticed clear enough to know I want to be your wife. Not just your woman, Aaron. Your wife. I want to have your name. Legally.”
“My name might not be worth much for much longer,” Mackey admitted. “I’ve got a territorial judge who doesn’t like me, two prisoners who are going to be looking for blood the second they’re freed from jail, and every blood relative of the Hancock clan who wants me dead. I wouldn’t want to make a widow of you again, Katie. I wouldn’t want you to live with the heartache.”
“I’ll live with it anyway.” She surprised him by stopping and taking his head in her hands. “But I won’t have to. I can remember a time after Darabont took me when I was too afraid to leave my own hotel. You helped me through that. I can remember a time when I didn’t know where I fit in this world anymore, but I came out here and you helped me through that, too. You haven’t just saved my life, Aaron. You’ve shown me how to live. I’d be a fool to let that go, and I want it to last for however long it can. And for however long it is, I want to spend the rest of it with you.”
Mackey felt his face grow warm and his throat close. “Okay, Katie” was all he could manage to say. “Okay.”
She pulled his head down and kissed him. He put her arms around her and kissed her back, ignoring the gasps such a scandalous public display of affection caused among the townspeople.
She eased his head away and threw her arms around him. “And I’m not worried about becoming a widow, Aaron Mackey, because you ain’t gonna let that happen.”
He eased her back an inch to get a better look at her. “Did you just say ‘ain’t gonna’?”
“I certainly did,” she said proudly. “And I meant it, too.”
Mackey turned when he heard a man begin to clap. “Well would you look at that, J.D.? True love blossoming right here before our very eyes.”
Mackey recognized Rigg’s voice and drew his Colt as he pulled Katherine behind him.
Nathan Rigg was leaning against a porch post, cheroot hanging out of the corner of his mouth, grinning at them. “Now that’s the second time you’ve drawn on me today, Aaron.” He made a show of opening his jacket to show he was still unarmed. “And for the second time today, I’m not heeled.”
Mackey did not lower his Peacemaker. “You’re always heeled. Probably have a hideout gun tucked in the back.”
“What a scandalous accusation.” Rigg looked down at Rhoades. “You’re a lawyer, J.D. That’s a scandalous and libelous charge, isn’t it? Why, I could sue the marshal here for besmirching my good name, couldn’t I?”
“Only if it isn’t true,” the lawyer said, “which it is.” He looked at Mackey. “He’s got a Remington tucked in the back of his pants.”
Mackey could see Rhoades had aged some in the years since Mackey had last seen him. He’d grown rounder since leaving the army. Balder, too, and he wore a pair of thick, wire-rimmed glasses. “Good to see you, Aaron.”
Mackey did not take his eyes off Rigg. “Wish I could say the same for you, John. Wish you chose your clients better.”
“I’m a lawyer. I go where the clients are, and I don’t always have the luxury of picking who I represent.”
“Especially when they pay so well.”
“I didn’t take an oath of poverty, Aaron. You make your living with a gun, I make mine with the law.”
“So do I,” Mackey said. “By enforcing it, not by letting guilty men like Grant and Brenner go free.”
“Everyone’s entitled to a defense,” Rhoades sighed. “You ought to know that better than anyone. I defended you once upon a time.”
Mackey was about to say he was not a murderer, but the words died in his mouth. He kept looking at Rigg instead. “Your taste in friends isn’t the best, either.”
“You’ll get no argument from me there.” The attorney looked back at Rigg, then at Mackey. “But we’re not friends. We’re partners. There’s a difference.”
“Not to me.”
Rigg laughed. “You’re getting virtuous in your old age, Aaron. I can remember a time when there wasn’t much of a difference between you and me.” He looked around Mackey at Katherine. “But I wouldn’t want to discuss such things in front of your beloved here.” He touched the brim of his hat. “Evening, Mrs. Campbell. You might not remember me, but I had the honor of being a guest in your home back in Boston many moons ago. Forgive me for being somewhat forward, but I must say the years have been most kind to you.”
“I remember you, Captain Rigg,” she said as she stepped out from behind Mackey. He tried to hold her back, but she avoided his grasp. “It was Captain Rigg, back then, wasn’t it? Then Major Rigg and finally Colonel Rigg from what I understand.”
“You’re surprisingly well informed,” Rigg remarked. “You seem to have followed my career with some interest.” He looked at Mackey. “Guess you’re not the only man in uniform who made an impression on Mrs. Campbell during one of her famous parties.”
“No,” Katherine said as she took another step forward, “you didn’t leave much of an impression at all. But I have seen you many times in the years since.”
“You have?” Rigg’s brow furrowed. “That’s strange. I haven’t been to Boston in years, and this is my first time in Montana. You must have me mistaken for another dashing Virginian.”
“No, it’s you. Or, rather, men like you. Men who stood exactly where you’re standing right now, so confident. So sure of themselves that they had Aaron all figured out. That they had the drop
on him, as I believe men like you say when they feel they have an advantage on a man.”
She stopped just before blocking Mackey’s line of fire and looked Rigg up and down. “Men who have talked a good game and made all sorts of threats on Aaron’s life. Some of them veiled, like yours. Some of them overt. Either way, it didn’t matter. All of them poked and prodded him as far as they thought they could until that one, brief moment when they pushed him just too far. I’ve lost count of all the men like you who stood before him, but the number doesn’t matter because they’ve all ended up the same. In a pine box in a shallow grave.”
Katherine smiled. “Yes, Colonel Rigg. I’ve seen you many times since Boston, and I see no difference between you and all the others who’ve stood where you’re standing right now. You’ll make the same mistake all of them did, too, and when you do, he’ll put you down just like he’s put down every other cur who thought they had him cornered. And not because he’s the Hero of Adobe Flats or the Savior of Dover Station. And not because he has men like Billy to watch his back, either. It’s because he’s Aaron Mackey. And you’re nothing.”
Rigg’s jaw tightened as his left eye twitched.
And so did his right hand, ever so slightly, toward the back of his coat.
Mackey raised his Peacemaker and aimed it at Rigg’s head.
Katherine held her ground, without fear, smiling up at the mercenary.
Rhoades laid his hand on Rigg’s arm and said, “We have to be going, Nathan. We have an appointment, remember?”
Rigg’s jaw loosened and his fake smile returned. “Why, thank you, J.D. I’d almost forgotten about our prior commitment.” He touched the brim of his hat again. “Lovely chatting with you, Mrs. Campbell, and please forgive us for intruding on your special moment. I find true love so enchanting.”
Rhoades shot Mackey a relieved look as the two men turned and walked away.
Mackey uncocked the Colt and slid it back in his holster.
Katherine turned and looked at him, quite pleased with herself. “I think that went rather well, don’t you?”
Mackey laughed in spite of himself. “Mrs. Campbell, you’ve got some mouth on you.”
“It’ll be Mrs. Mackey soon.” She slid her arm back in his and pulled him along to resume their stroll. “And it’s one of the many reasons why you love me.”
“Yeah,” Mackey said. “I guess it is.”
CHAPTER 13
Judge Forester’s courtroom was filled beyond capacity and swelteringly hot. Everyone who was anyone in Helena had come to see justice dealt in the matter of the Territory of Montana versus James Hollister Grant and Alfred Hancock Brenner. The newspapers had billed it as the most significant event in Helena since its selection as the territorial capital and no one intended on missing it.
Mackey stood next to Sean Lynch next to the door to the judge’s chambers. Grant and Brenner sat shackled at the defendant’s table. Rhoades was wearing a gray suit and regularly dabbed at the beads of sweat on his bald pate. Rigg was in the gallery behind the defendant’s table where two of Lynch’s men stood guard with Winchesters.
My men, Mackey reminded himself. I’m the marshal now.
The prosecutor was a spindly-looking young man, thin as a broom handle. Sebastian Forester was the judge’s son but looked nothing like his father. He looked like a slight breeze might bowl him over at any minute, and Mackey knew from experience that John Rhoades was no slight breeze. He was a thunderstorm in a courtroom, or at least had been when he had represented Mackey in his court-martial all those years ago.
Katherine and Pappy sat behind the prosecutor’s table. Katherine looking proud and elegant in her pink dress and wide-brimmed hat despite the outcome they all knew was coming.
“Look at them all,” Lynch said to Mackey out of the corner of his mouth. “I’d give a month’s wages to be anywhere but in this sweatbox, and they’ve been lined up for hours just to get in here.”
Mackey did look out at them and saw about half a dozen Rigg men spread out among the crowd. Men wiped away sweat with their handkerchiefs while women batted warm air at themselves with hand fans.
“Your boys see Rigg’s men?” Mackey asked.
“They’re your boys now, Aaron,” Lynch reminded him, “and they’ve seen them.” He nodded up at the upper gallery. “And I see you’ve brought some men of your own, too.”
Joshua Sandborne stood at the railing of the upper gallery, his Winchester resting on his hip. Billy stood at the highest point in the courtroom with his Sharps at his side. If any of Rigg’s men so much as scratched their leg near their pistols, they would catch a fifty-caliber round for their trouble. His Winchester was leaning against the wall beside him.
“They’re our boys now,” Mackey told him. “Remember?”
“Glad to hear you say it.” Lynch seemed to mean it, too.
The door to the judge’s chambers opened and Lynch stepped forward to bellow, “All rise!”
Everyone in the courtroom not already standing got to their feet.
“This court is now in session. The Honorable Adam Forester, Federal Magistrate for the Territory of Montana, presiding.”
“Be seated,” Forester said as he climbed into his bench. Mackey had to admit that Forester looked much more respectable in his black robe than he had in his chambers a few days before. In the army, he had seen how men changed when the mantle of responsibility was placed on their shoulders. He was glad to see it now.
As the people retook their seats, Lynch resumed his place next to Mackey. “This ought to be good. Don’t let Seb’s appearance fool you. The boy’s got more sand than he looks.”
“That boy’s going to need all the sand in Arizona to go up against Rhoades.”
“You’ll see.”
Judge Forester cleared his throat and said, “Mr. Forester, what are the charges presented against the defendants here today?”
Seb Forester got to his feet and read from his notes. “Your honor, James Grant and Alfred Brenner stand accused of attempted murder of a peace officer and conspiracy to commit the murder of a peace officer. Mr. Grant is also accused of attempted murder by means of poisoning, your honor.”
“Are these all of the charges these defendants stand accused of, Mr. Forester?”
“No, your honor.”
The courtroom burst into murmurs.
Rhoades and the defendants exchanged panicked looks.
Mackey almost had to steady himself against the wall. Almost.
The prosecutor continued. “Upon further examination of the charges brought against the defendants by Marshal Aaron Mackey and his deputies, my office has decided to level additional charges against the defendants of assault against a peace officer, disturbing the peace, unlawful resisting of arrest, and interference of a peace officer in the lawful execution of his duties.”
Forester turned his large head toward the defendant’s table. “These are very serious charges, Mr. Rhoades. How do your clients plead?”
Rhoades leapt to his feet. “Innocent, your honor. Furthermore, I protest the additional charges that have been made against my clients at this late date. As you know, I prepared a detailed brief outlining the specious nature of the preliminary charges leveled against my clients. Dover Station Chief of Police Brenner absolutely denies the confession Marshal Aaron Mackey submitted to this court as being given under great duress during his unlawful incarceration by Marshal Mackey.”
“I’ve already considered that, counselor,” Forester told him. “Do they also plead not guilty to the assault charges the prosecutor has made against them just now?”
For the first time, Mackey saw J. D. Rhoades stuck for an answer.
Forester leaned forward and bore into Rhoades, just as he had with Mackey in his chambers a few days earlier. He was glad he was not the subject of the jurist’s ire now. “It’s not a hard question, Mr. Rhoades. Enter a plea for your clients on these secondary charges brought by the prosecution. Guilty or innocent.” He rais
ed a stubby finger. “But, keep in mind that I’m inclined to go much easier on your clients if they plead guilty now as opposed to forcing the expense and bother of a trial.”
Rhoades asked, “May I have a moment to confer with my clients, your honor?”
“You can have several moments,” Forester told him. “Then you should confer with the prosecutor before talking to me. This court demands swift justice and abhors delaying tactics. And the men who use them.”
Lynch elbowed Mackey. “See? I told you there’s more to Seb than you think. He’s a damned fine lawyer.”
But Mackey was already thinking two steps ahead. “Hope him being the judge’s son doesn’t complicate things later.”
“Not a chance. The judge asked twenty lawyers in the territory to prosecute the case. None wanted to touch it out of fear that Grant will go free and hold it against them later.”
Mackey was not surprised to hear it. “All the more reason to lock the bastard up.”
“There’s more than one kind of prison, Aaron,” Lynch said. “And don’t discount the judge, either. He’s an old drunk, but a crafty old drunk who’s usually right.”
Rhoades had to practically hold his hand over Brenner’s mouth to keep the big man from yelling while Grant sat quietly, listening to his attorney.
At the opposite table, Seb Forester shuffled papers and made an occasional note.
Rhoades crossed over to the prosecutor’s desk and looked annoyed, as if his opponent was interrupting something important. Mackey liked the young man’s style more with each passing minute.
The two men spoke for a while longer before the frowning prosecutor reluctantly nodded.
Their conference ended, Rhoades said, “I believe the prosecution and the defense have reached a fair compromise, your honor.”
Forester bristled. “I’ll be the judge of what’s fair in my courtroom, Mr. Rhoades.” Over the subdued laughter that trickled through the galley, Forester said, “What sort of compromise has the prosecution agreed to?”
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