So many emotions filtered across her face that Thunder wanted to scoop her up in his arms and tell her everything would be all right. But if he did, the guard would surely burst through the door, and Thunder didn’t want to damage Brandy’s reputation further. It was bad enough she’d been living at a house of ill repute.
Why wasn’t he holding her? Brandy wondered. Had he not missed her? Seeing him now and feeling her heart ache, she knew how much she loved him. Slowly, she placed her hand on his and said, “I’ve missed you.”
“I have missed you, too,” Thunder said in a husky voice. His eyes held her with the desire she saw in their depths. She could tell he felt something for her. But did he love her?
“How did you know where to find me?” Brandy finally asked.
He leaned back against the wall. “I went back to Ft. Laramie to see how you were doing.”
Her heart did a small flip. “You actually came back to see me?”
“Yes. Only to find that they had taken you to jail.”
“Did you see the children? Is someone taking care of them?”
“They are here with me.”
“Good.” She breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ve been worried about them.”
“The children are fine, but will be happy when you are released. The trial will be held tomorrow at noon.” Thunder sat beside her on the bunk and managed a businesslike expression. “Keeping with your luck, I understand he is the hanging judge,” Thunder told her, then said, “Tell me exactly what happened.”
“I seem to have gotten myself in a mess,” she said with a frown. Her eyes widened. “You don’t think they will hang me?”
“Not if I can help it. Now start at the beginning and tell me everything.”
As Brandy retold the events, Thunder’s stomach tightened. He would have liked to kill Sam himself. It was probably a good thing that Brandy had beaten him to the deed. Then pride began to take the place of his anger as he realized how Brandy had taken up for herself and the children. At the beginning of their journey, he hadn’t been too sure that any of the children would ever take up for the others. Yet, he always knew that one day Brandy would see just what the children meant to her . . . The priest had been wise, even in death.
Slowly, Thunder got to his feet. “I must go and prepare my case.”
She rose also and gazed up at him. He could see the shimmer of tears in Brandy’s eyes. She appeared frightened and he felt helpless to ease her fears.
“Please hold me,” she finally asked in a breathless whisper.
That was his undoing. His back was to the outside door as he took her hands in his and leaned down and whispered, “I would love nothing more than to take you in my arms and kiss you.” He held her hands to his lips and brushed a soft kiss on her knuckles. “But we don’t want the sheriff to get the wrong idea about you. We are supposed to be strangers.”
The outside door opened, and Thunder immediately dropped her hands and gave her a faint smile.
“Are you ready, Mr. Bradley?” the sheriff asked, then spat in the bucket by the door.
Thunder turned and nodded to the sheriff as he opened the cell door. “I’ll see you in court tomorrow, Miss Brown. If you think of anything else that you haven’t told me, please ask the sheriff to contact me.”
“Thank you for coming, Mr. Bradley,” Brandy said.
With a nod, Thunder was gone.
Brandy stared at the closed door, and for just a moment, she wondered if she had dreamt the whole thing.
21
It was just after ten o’clock when Brandy and Marshal Shelton left the jailhouse and started down the sidewalk toward the courthouse. The marshal had handcuffed Brandy to him so she wouldn’t escape, so she had to walk fast to keep up with him.
They moved past the hotel; the smell of ham coming from inside made her stomach rumble because she’d been so nervous that she hadn’t been able to eat this morning. However, at the moment, food was the least of her worries. What would happen to the children if she were found guilty?
A young woman with a child in tow came toward them. When she looked up and saw Brandy, the lady averted her eyes and took the child’s hand and stepped completely off the sidewalk to avoid contact. Now Brandy truly felt like a criminal.
The weathered, wooden courthouse was located at the end of Main Street. Worrying about her fate, Brandy entered the building, still handcuffed to the marshal. He led her to the main courtroom and down the center aisle. A large desk sat high up on a platform at the end of the aisle, which provided a good view for the judge who sat behind the desk. He was dressed in a dark suit, a gavel in his right hand. Something cold and fearful gripped Brandy; she would have turned and run if not for the handcuffs.
Bare wooden seats were located on both sides of the aisle, but they were only half-filled with people, none of whom she looked at as she passed them.
When they reached the front row, the marshal nudged her to the left. Another trial was in progress, so they would have to wait their turn. Couldn’t they just get it over with? She glanced at the judge. He did not look very friendly.
When Brandy started down the row, she noticed Thunder seated on the long wooden seat. He looked so good to her as he lounged indifferently on the bench that she wanted to fling herself into his arms. His long legs were stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles. He might look indifferent, but she could see how tightly his jaw was clenched and she knew he was ready to do battle.
He was neat and clean and dressed all in black. His new hairstyle definitely complimented him, and those vivid silver-blue eyes were as beautiful as she remembered.
She sat down beside Thunder, and Marshal Shelton took a seat to her right. Shelton pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and unlocked the handcuffs, then slipped them in his pocket.
Thunder leaned over and whispered, “Are you all right?”
She nodded as she crossed her legs at the ankles and spread out her skirt Her left hand rested on the seat beside her, and suddenly she felt warm fingers lacing through hers. She smiled, feeling somehow a little safer with Thunder next to her.
The judge hit the table with his gavel and drew her attention away from Thunder. He turned to the defendant. “What do you have to say for yourself, Mr. Allison?”
“It was self-defense, Your Honor,” Allison replied.
“Tell the court what happened,” the judge instructed.
“It started with a horse race, Your Honor. I was upset that Chuck Chiton’s horse beat mine. We agreed to mount our horses and face each other at a distance of one hundred yards. Then, at a signal, we were to run our horses toward each other, firing until one of us dropped to the ground.”
“Is that what happened?” the judge asked.
“No. We went back to Clifton House, where Chuck suggested that we eat first so that one of us would go to hell with a full stomach.”
The few in the courtroom laughed, and the judge banged the gavel on the desk again. “Silence in the courtroom!”
“Continue, Mr. Allison,” the judge instructed, a stern look on his face.
“We took our places at opposite ends of the table, our six-shooters drawn and resting on our laps. During the meal, Chuck casually dropped one hand below the table and grabbed his pistol, but in lifting the pistol the barrel struck the edge of the table and when he fired he missed me. I had no choice but to fire immediately.”
“So you killed him?”
“Yes, Your Honor. Shot him right above the eye, and he fell straight forward into his stew. But it was kill or be killed.”
“Step down,” the judge said. For a few minutes everything was quiet while the judge pondered. Finally he looked up and said, “I find the defendant not guilty.” He banged his gavel. “Next case.”
And then it was over. The bailiff escorted the man from the court as murmuring started all around them.
The next thing Brandy knew, the marshal was tugging on her arm and she had to move up to a table on the
other side of the rail. Thunder held the chair for her to sit; then he took the chair beside her.
Rap, rap, rap, the gavel sounded against the pine board which composed the judge’s desk. “Bailiff,” the judge called. “What is our next case?”
“Murder, your honor. A Miss Brandy Brown shot and killed one Sam Owens near Ft. Laramie.”
“Who represents Miss Brown?” the judge asked. “I do, Your Honor,” Thunder said. “Thomas Bradley.”
The judge adjusted his glasses as he peered at Thunder. “I don’t remember seeing you around here before, Mr. Bradley.”
“That’s because I’m from back east, Your Honor. I’m new in town.”
“I see,” the judge said and folded his hands in front of him. “How does the defendant plead?”
“Not guilty.”
“Do you have any witnesses?”
“Yes, I would like to call Miss Molly Tobin to the stand.”
Brandy watched in awe as Thunder questioned Molly as she told what it was like to be in Sam’s house and how he’d tricked all the girls into coming to him. Thunder was so professional, Brandy almost wondered if she’d imagined him being an Indian. He still moved with the grace of a warrior, but he appeared as civilized as any lawyer would as he walked back and forth, firing question after question to the witness.
Next he called Ellen, and Brandy was surprised. She hadn’t seen Ellen when she’d first entered. She turned around and saw that Mary was also in the courtroom. Brandy managed a smile, and Mary waved at her.
“Ellen, can you tell us what happened?” Thunder asked in a gentle but firm voice. She looked as if she were going to cry, but she sat a little straighter and composed herself.
“Sam attacked me while I was milking the cow.”
“What exactly did he do?” Thunder questioned further.
“He hit me. Then dragged me up the stairs to the hayloft.”
“Then what?”
“He shoved me down in—in the hay and pulled my—my skirt up,” Ellen said in a quivering voice.
“That’s enough,” Brandy said as she came to her feet. “I can tell you the rest. Ellen is only a child.”
“I won’t tolerate any outbursts in my courtroom, Miss Brown. Sit down.”
Frowning, Brandy reluctantly sank back to her seat. When Brandy was seated, the judge snapped, “Proceed, Mr. Bradley.”
“That is enough for Ellen, Your Honor. I want to call Miss Brandy Brown to the stand.”
Brandy marched to the stand and took her seat. She held one hand up and placed the other on the Bible and swore to tell the truth. Then she started from the beginning and didn’t hold anything back as she told the judge how she’d been tricked into coming out west. She told him that she had agreed to pay the money back. Then she explained what had happened that morning in the hayloft. When she’d finished, she felt completely exhausted, as if she’d relived the whole thing again.
The judge excused himself and retired to his chambers for a few minutes. There was nothing to do but wait.
“What does that mean?” Brandy asked.
“I’m not sure,” Thunder admitted. “Let’s hope that it’s good. I’m accustomed to having a jury back east, but they don’t always do things the same out here.”
Finally, the judge returned. He rapped on the desk again to bring quiet to the courtroom. “Miss Brown, will you stand and face the bench,” he instructed.
She pushed the chair back and rose.
“After reviewing all the evidence, I find—” The judge started coughing and Brandy thought she’d collapse in anticipation while he grabbed a glass of water and drank. “Excuse me.” He cleared his throat. “After reviewing all the evidence I find the defendant not guilty.”
Brandy grasped the table to steady herself. Relief swept through her.
“But,” the judge continued, “I am not sure you can properly care for children without an income. Therefore, the court will take custody of the children and place them in homes.”
“No!” Brandy screamed. “I can take care of them.”
The judge leaned over his desk. “I’m not so sure about that, but I will give you five days to show me you can provide for them before they are taken away.”
“Thank you, Your Honor,” Thunder said and grasped Brandy’s elbow, squeezing it tight so she wouldn’t say anything else and land them all in trouble.
When they were out of the courtroom, the girls ran over to Brandy and hugged her.
They started walking to the stable to get their horses. “The judge can’t take us, can he, Brandy?” Ellen asked, her expression tight with strain.
“I hope not,” Brandy said and looked at Thunder. “I think I have an idea,” Thunder said. “But first we need to go and get the others.”
“I sure hope it’s a good idea,” Brandy said when they reached the horses.
As they rode away from Denver, she asked, “Where are we going?”
“Billy, Scott, and my mother are camped outside of town by a small stream.”
“Your mother is with you?”
“Yes, she is going back to Boston.”
Brandy wondered if this meant that Thunder would be going with her. They rode to the top of a grassy knoll and then the road straightened out. She wanted to ask, but didn’t want the answer. “Thank you for coming to my rescue.”
He glanced at her as they rode. “I remember a time when you defended me.” He looked at her and grinned. “Of course, you did have an ulterior motive.”
Brandy laughed. “I was desperate.”
“Well, let’s say I, too, was desperate this time.” Brandy looked at him, puzzled. “You were? Why?” “I was afraid of losing you,” he said simply, then added, “I want to talk to you later. Privately.”
Brandy felt her cheeks warm as she shyly looked at him and smiled. He’d never spoken to her like this before, and she wasn’t sure what he meant.
He’d said he wanted to talk to her. But what about? Was he merely going to tell her goodbye and leave them again?
They were quiet as they rode away from town, and she began to think. What would happen to her and the children? They were on their own with no place to live other than the wagon, and they had no money. The judge was right, but he couldn’t take the children and separate them after coming this far. She would think of something.
Brandy sighed. Their problems always began and ended with money.
Sunset was fast approaching when they reached the wagon beneath a group of trees.
As soon as she dismounted, Billy and Scott ran over to her. Scott hugged her waist.
“Are you free? Or do we have to pack up and run?” Billy asked dryly.
“I am free, thanks to Thunder.” Brandy grinned.
A woman climbed from the back of the wagon and started toward them. Thunder’s mother looked so much like him with her long, black hair and blue eyes that Brandy would have known who she was even if she hadn’t expected to see the woman.
“So you are Brandy?” Helen said. She came closer, then gasped, “I can’t believe it.”
“What?” Thunder asked, concerned.
Helen grabbed both of Brandy’s arms. “You are the spitting image of Bonnie. She was my childhood friend from Boston. We both married at the same time.”
Hope surged through Brandy. Could this woman actually have known her mother? “My mother was from Boston.”
“I can’t be sure because Bonnie didn’t have any children the last time I saw her. Thunder told me that you were in an orphanage.”
“My mother left me at the parsonage when I was five,” Brandy said.
“If she did, she had a good reason. Not many mothers would leave their children, unless it was for the child’s safety. If you were Bonnie’s child, I remember how much she talked about wanting children, especially a girl.” Helen smiled. “We’ll talk later—I know that you must be very tired.”
Brandy nodded. “Let’s do talk later. I would like to learn more about my moth
er. If she is my mother.” Brandy squeezed Helen’s hands, then said, “Thunder has spoken of you. I can see where he gets his blue eyes.”
“Thank you. Come, you probably would like to get into some clean clothes,” Helen suggested.
“Even though it is cold, I need to wash.”
Helen smiled and then turned to Mary and Ellen. “I have started dinner. If you both will finish cooking, I will assist Brandy.”
Brandy almost smiled at how much at home Thunder’s mother seemed to be—and she had definitely taken charge. Brandy was glad to turn over some responsibility because she was very tired. All those days in jail, she had barely dared to relax much less sleep. And she wanted to hear more about this woman who Helen thought could be her mother. There would probably never be any way that they could be sure who Brandy’s mother was, but it would be nice to imagine the possibility. Right now her main concern was get-ting clean and washing her dirty hair.
“Something sure smells good,” Ellen said.
“Billy brought home a chicken and a rabbit,” Helen told them.
Brandy and Helen walked away from the group down to the small creek. “Over there is a deep place where you can bathe and wash your hair,” Helen said.
“I can’t wait,” Brandy said as she unbuttoned her blouse. She shivered as the cool wind touched her body. “I can’t remember when I last bathed. I know that water is freezing but I’m so dirty I really don’t care.”
“Here is a bar of lye soap and a sheet to dry yourself with. I will go back and get some warm water to help take the chill out of your body once you bathe.”
When Brandy was by herself, she finished undressing and slipped into the water so cold it immediately took her breath away. She wasted little time diving under the water to stop the slow torture of inching her way in. Quickly, she lathered her hands and scrubbed her body and hair and then rinsed all the soap away. Her teeth were chattering as she emerged from the water and wrapped the towel around her.
Helen appeared with a big pot of warm water. “Here, let me pour this over you. It’s warm and will take the bite from the cold.”
Dance on the Wind Page 24