by Ginny Aiken
She shrugged. “I’ve been better, but it’s been years since that.”
“You do know there is a chance to make things, if not as good as they were back then, at least some better than they are right now.”
For a moment, a spark of hope burst to life inside her. “Oh. You still think marriage is the solution.”
“It might not be the solution, but it could be one solution. And I’m not the only one who thinks so.”
“You’re not the only one?”
“No. Eli and Mr. Peterson both think it’s worth a try. A proper marriage, and then paying off your debts. They both believe they can talk Theo into dropping the charges against you once we’ve made restitution, and you’re not likely to appear a threat to his finances. I care…I—I care what happens to you, and I’d be honored if you would take my name and all the protection that could bring you.”
Tears burned behind her eyelids. Why would the Lord let this happen again, when she’d been longing for all that Nathan represented? “I haven’t changed my mind,” she said, her voice little more than a murmur. “And I know circumstances haven’t changed, you can’t say you now feel…love.”
“I can’t say anything to make you reconsider.”
“No.” She smiled. “Your kindness is endearing, and I appreciate all you’ve done for me. You do need a wife, and you should consider finding one. I confess I envy the lady who’ll be so blessed as to win your heart.”
He looked up, and, with a thoughtful expression on his handsome face, he studied her for a minute…two. A slow smile widened his mouth. “You could take the chance I offer and be the one to win my heart. There’s no one else who has set her cap for me, you know.”
She smiled wider and shook her head. “You can be persuasive, can’t you?”
He crossed his arms and his smile broadened even more. “I’ve a mind to show you how persuasive I can be. And just so you know. I don’t give up easily.”
“It never occurred to me to think otherwise.”
“So we’re agreed. I’ve offered, you’ve said no, I’m decided to change your mind, and…well, from what you’ve said, you’re accepting the challenge.”
Alarm made her open her eyes wide. “I said no such thing. I acknowledged your dogged nature. That’s not accepting a challenge.”
“You’ve acknowledged I’m persistent.” He chuckled. “I’m setting up to show you how persistent I can be. You’re not done with me yet, Faith Nolan. Not by a long shot.”
She had no idea what to say to that, so she kept her peace. A moment later, he stepped up to mere inches away, and looked steadily into her eyes. Slowly, with heartrending tenderness, he ran a finger down her cheek. It had been so long since anyone had touched her with such gentle kindness, with such delicate warmth, with such honorable admiration, that tears pooled in her eyes. She couldn’t keep them from spilling, and with that same soft touch, Nathan wiped them away.
“You’re not alone,” he whispered. “I’m here. Whenever you need me. Remember that.”
Remember? Oh, indeed. She would remember. As long as she lived. And that was where she found the greatest problem with his words, his actions. It would be best if she could find a way to forget. What good would it do her to hold the memory of something she dearly wanted but never could have?
What good would it do her to constantly wonder what it might have been like, if only she’d said yes?
Chapter 19
A short hour after Nathan left, the marshal came to fetch Faith to court again. “Are you ready?” he asked.
She nodded, not trusting her riotous emotions to even try to speak. She couldn’t deny the feminine part of her heart that had woken up after Nathan’s latest proposal. Thoughts of a future filled with more of those sweet caresses coursed her mind, and even the notion of a kiss or two taunted her with what she’d refused.
How was she going to react when she next saw him?
How was she going to greet him amid the judgmental eyes of Bountiful’s men?
How would she feel when the verdict came down, and she looked into his eyes?
Once they arrived at the saloon, Faith was relieved to learn she’d been granted a minor reprieve. The jury was called back from their deliberations, since the soldiers had been called in to testify. She sat in her chair again, laced her hands in her lap, and settled back to listen, a silent prayer running over and over in her mind.
To her dismay, however, the military men had nothing to add to what had already been presented to the court. Captain Roberts, Sergeant Graves, and Private Fowler, the men she’d seen in the cabin the night of Roger’s death, confessed that they’d spent the evening drinking far too much in the company of the Nolan brothers. They also conceded it hadn’t been the first time they’d made the same questionable choice in evening entertainment.
More important, none of them had any knowledge of the fire, or Roger’s murder, much less any of the other crimes of which Faith stood accused. At the very least, she couldn’t fault Mr. Peterson’s performance or his persistent efforts to extract any scrap of information that might be of help.
“Thank you kindly, gentlemen,” Judge Hess said when the last soldier finished his testimony. “You’ve borne up well under Mr. Peterson’s vigorous questioning, but I’ll be dismissing you now. The court won’t be needing you further.” He turned to the six men seated to his right. “Gentlemen of the jury, remember your responsibility. A woman’s life hangs in the balance. Be fair, be diligent, stick to the facts and not your feelings as you deliberate the matter.”
He waited for each man to nod. “In the spirit of compassion, don’t draw this out unnecessarily, either. Have compassion on Mrs. Nolan’s need to know her fate. Again, a woman’s life is at stake. Please go do your job, as I said before, with diligence and deliberate attention. We’ll be waiting for your verdict.”
The jury trooped out to the future saloon’s storage room, which the judge had deemed suitable for deliberations. As they walked by, Faith forced herself to look each one in the face. Not a one was willing to meet her gaze.
Dread made her wonder again about the wisdom of rejecting Nathan’s offer.
His proposals.
An odd hitch in her heart caught her off guard. It was wondrous in its own way. Nathan Bartlett wanted to marry her, never mind the reason why. He’d offered to make her his wife. To be at her side, to support her, encourage her, comfort her, and even to…care for her. She couldn’t keep her gaze from straying toward him. She caught her breath when she realized his eyes were fixed on her.
What if they married, and then reason prevailed and the jury found her innocent? Would the kind of marriage Nathan offered be enough? Years and years down the road?
Time seemed to stop. The sounds of the crowd faded. The sights around her didn’t register. For long moments they stared at each other. Finally, that slow smile appeared again on Nathan’s face. Faith couldn’t tear her gaze away.
A warm flush rose up from her neck, to her cheeks, all the way to her ears. Oh, my.
Nathan Bartlett was indeed, as she’d thought a number of times before, a splendid figure of a man. And he wanted to marry her. Her heart kicked up a fast little beat. She’d never been on the receiving end of a smile like that—intimate, private, full of meaning for only the two of them. She shivered and allowed herself to respond with a tiny mirror image of his grin.
Bolstered by the silent exchange, Faith settled in to await the jury’s return. She needed the verdict, no matter whether it favored her or not. The waiting was the hardest thing.
Harder still than turning down the most splendid man she’d ever known had been.
As it turned out, she didn’t have more than an hour to wait. The judge resumed his place behind his table, gavel in hand. When the audience noticed and took their seats, he clapped the hammer down, and looked over the crowd.
“The court will come to order again. Marshal Blair tells me the jury has their verdict. They’re about to come
back in here, and let us know. Mind you”—he glowered at those in attendance—“I will have order, understood? Even after we hear that verdict.”
Not a breath disturbed the silence. Faith’s pulse beat in a breath-stealing pace, so loud it rivaled the judge’s heavy gavel strikes. Then, in that deep hush, the six men marched in, led by the grim-faced marshal. Faith’s shivers turned to shudders.
Maybe she should have told Nathan yes and perhaps managed to avoid this horror.
And yet…and yet, a glance at him told her another marriage arrangement wouldn’t do. Certainly not with Nathan Bartlett. Both she and Nathan deserved a marriage like the one her parents had shared, a deep affection that showed in all their conversations, their every laugh, their every moment together.
Determined certainty set in.
The men sat.
Judge Hess banged his gavel.
Marshal Blair approached the judge’s table. The judge looked up at the lawman. “You have the verdict?”
“I do indeed.”
“Then let the court hear it loud and clear.”
Marshal Blair nodded and swallowed hard. “Guilty, your honor. The jury finds Mrs. Faith Nolan guilty of murder, attempted murder, and theft.”
Gasps broke out across the room.
At the sound of the dreaded words, Faith felt as though she floated high above her body, still seated to the right of the judge. She watched those in the audience turn to their neighbors, whisper, and stare. Some shook their heads, most smirked.
Out of the corners of her eyes, she saw Nathan continue to stare at Theo, powerful emotion seeming to harden the lines of his face.
Judge Hess clapped his gavel again. “Order, folks. Remember? Order in the court.” He gave the crowd a moment to settle down, which it did, in view of the stern expression he displayed. When all fell silent again, he nodded toward the jury. “We will recess again while the six of you take on the matter of the defendant’s sentence. Once again, I plead with you for your serious deliberation, your conscientious consideration of Mrs. Nolan’s actions, of the evidence—evidence, gentlemen—as well as the lack of evidence presented, as you come to your decision.”
He waited for his words to sink in. Then, “Please present this court with the lady’s sentence—”
“Sentence?” Theo roared, bolting to his feet as though shot up by a spring. “What sentence do ya want, Judge? They say she’s guilty, and we hang horse thieves and murderers in these parts. That’s all ya need ta know.”
A numb feeling settled over Nathan as Adam Blair revealed the verdict. Buzzing rang in his ears when Theo burst out with his demand for Faith to pay the ultimate price.
The jury didn’t take more than ten minutes to decide her fate and return. Ice filled his veins when the sentence echoed Theo’s words.
Hanging. They wanted to kill Faith. To hang her.
Only two thoughts found a place in his mind. First of all, the thought of actually losing her made him realize, without a doubt, that he wanted Faith Nolan to be his wife. And second, he had to know why. Why had it turned out like this? Why had the judge let it all come to this?
Mr. Peterson had asked to have the charges dismissed. With one smack of that little wooden hammer, Judge Hess could have brought it all to an end. He hadn’t. Nathan needed to know why.
As though from miles away, he heard the swish of the ladies’ skirts as they left the saloon, their faces drawn, tears in many eyes. He also heard the crack of the men’s boot heels as they followed the women on their way outside. The men, however, weren’t as thoughtful as the women. They slapped each other’s backs, some whispered comments, others allowed themselves a smirk or even a chuckle here and there.
Anger bubbled up in Nathan. He fisted his hand, ground his teeth, leaned forward, and began to stand.
“Easy.” Eli laid a hand on Nathan’s shoulder. “Let them go. Don’t do anything that might make matters worse.”
Aware of the wisdom in his friend’s words, he nonetheless glared as he forced himself to stay put. “This cannot be allowed to stand.”
“I agree. But this is not the time or place to act. Let them go.”
Nathan pulled away from Eli’s grasp, and leaned back in his chair. He didn’t say another word, but watched Adam lead Faith out of the saloon, the metal handcuffs large and unnatural on her delicate wrists. The jury left directly after her, and the last one in that wretched party, Judge Hess, followed behind them all.
Only then did Nathan stand. With singular focus, he matched his steps to those of the judge, keeping an even distance between the two of them. Once outside, he continued in his pursuit, growing aware of the destination of those who’d left before him. And of the judge.
They were all headed to Folsom’s River Run Hotel, most likely to enjoy some lunch and raise a drink or two in celebration of a job they considered well done. Anger burned in his gut again, but Nathan fought to tamp it down, to ignore it.
Then he heard a familiar voice crow in triumph. “Toldja, dinnent I?” Theo bellowed, as he and Hector Swope marched to the hotel, smirks on their faces. “It weren’t jist murder Roger they say she did. They said she did attempted murder—that bank fella, you know.”
Hector nodded, his attention fixed on his pal.
Theo laughed. “They couldn’t not find her guilty, what with the rat poison in that box lunch she fed ’im, and all. I tell ya, I never seen a woman like to kill rats as much as that Faith. She spent half her time up to the store sprinkling that stuff like it was sugar or salt…”
Nathan halted in the middle of the street. He stared after the two ne’er-do-wells. Bits of information seemed to come together to form a new picture in his head. Had he missed it all along? Did he have all the parts of the puzzle now?
Try as he might, he couldn’t make it all fit. Not yet. Still, some things had come into focus.
He shot a sideways look at his companion. “Eli…did you hear what Theo just said?”
“Sure. The same things he’s been saying ever since the night his brother died.”
“Yes, but that’s not all. Did you know what it was that poisoned Parham?”
Eli nodded. “Doc told us at the church that day. He said it looked like rat poison—”
“Exactly! He said it that day, but I don’t recollect him telling anyone but those who were left at the church at the end—you and Olivia, the Altons, Adam, Faith, and me. Theo wasn’t there.”
Eli’s eyes widened. “Are you saying…?”
“I never said anything about it being rat poison to anyone. Did you?”
“Only when Olivia and I talked it over after we went home. And that was only once or twice.”
“Right.” Excitement began to build. “And you know Doc as well as I do. Adam, too. Do either one of them strike you as having flapping lips, to go talking about such things all over town?”
“Never.”
He smiled. “Now, the ladies are different, but I doubt they talked about the rat poison with anyone.”
“No. They only care about Faith. They’ve wanted the charges dropped all along, saying they’re nothing more than the foolish ramblings of the town’s drunk. They wouldn’t have given any fuel to the rumors.”
Nathan began to walk toward the hotel again. “He may be the town drunk, but he’s looking like a whole lot more right about now.”
“He knew about the rat poison.”
“Who, besides a handful of us, would have known what sickened Parham? Especially, since Marshal Blair didn’t want word of it spread. He wanted to keep it silent, to make sure only the few of us and the culprit would know it was there. He never believed Faith had anything to do with it.”
“Yes, the one who put the poison in the food would know.”
They picked up their pace, the hotel at the other end of town their goal. They had questions for Theo Nolan, questions he’d have no choice but to answer fully this time. In front of all the men from Bountiful.
And the judge.
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“I didn’t kill nobody, I tell ya!” Theo hollered. “Poison is poison. I reckon…rat poison, well, we always had plenty of it up to the store. Faith used it all the time. She’s the guilty one. Jury said so. I jist…jist made a good guess. No, no! I heered it. I heered…um…the marshal! Yes, the marshal said it were rat poison what kilt my brother. That’s it.”
Adam’s face looked like a granite statue, its lines hardened from the moment Nathan confronted Theo in the hotel. “I never said a thing about rat poison to you, Nolan.”
Theo’s eyes couldn’t seem to find a spot to look at. He glanced from table to table, man to man. “Nah…not to me, you dinnent. Ah…I heered you talk to—to…Folsom! That’s who. At supper one night.”
“Me!” the hotel owner objected. “I never heard a word about rat poison. Weren’t me he told.”
Theo blanched, then seconds later turned the color of well-cooked beets. “Then it musta been…musta been Whitman. Sure. The banker fella’s boss. And they’re friends, too.”
Adam glanced at Eli, who shook his head.
“Seems to me,” Adam said in his lazy-sounding drawl, “you know a mite too much about Parham’s poisoning. Looks like you’ll be spending some more time as a guest down to my jail. Starting now.”
As he led Theo out the door, his prisoner yelled one more time. “I tell ya, it weren’t me! I dinnent do it. It were—”
He cut off his stream of defenses, cleared his throat, then seconds later, from outside the building, those inside heard him start it up again. “I mean to say, it musta been someone else, seein’ as I dinnent come up with no notion of killing no one. I don’t even like rat poison, it smells so sick and sweet and…and it kills…”
The silence in the room slowly ended, as the occupants began to talk among themselves. Eli turned to Nathan.
“What do you think?”
More pieces of the puzzle had begun to move around in his head. “I’m not sure. Do you think Theo’s got the wits to figure all that? To plan to kill Parham for—”