Mountain Wild

by Stacey Kayne

  “Certainly. I’ll see you in the courthouse.” Strafford and his cronies walked outside and Garret glared at Bartley.

  “So that’s how it is? I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner.”

  “See what?”

  “The imprint of Strafford’s back pocket across your face.”

  “I’m just doin’ my job.”

  “The hell you are. It ain’t a wonder you haven’t caught any rustlers. Take me to my attorney so we can get this over with.”

  “You hear that?” Everett said when they stepped outside. Sounded like a swarm of bees. The steady buzz grew louder as they walked along the boardwalk. Reaching the end of the block, Bartley swore beneath his breath.

  It looked as though every citizen of Bitterroot Springs swarmed around the small courthouse, making the white building look more like a circus big top. As they caught sight of them the hum of conversation became angry shouts.

  “There he is!”

  “The cattle rustler!”

  “Traitor!”

  The deputies and ranch hands closed in around Garret and pushed into the scrum of people.

  “Let us through,” Bartley shouted. “Courthouse won’t open until one o’clock.”

  Shouts and jeers followed them up the steps.

  “This is not good,” Kuhana said from behind him.

  Bartley banged on one of the double doors. “It’s the sheriff. Let us in.”

  A gray-haired man looked out, then opened the door for them. The men at the back of their group were quick to shut out the noise and mayhem.

  “It’s crazy out there,” said one of the deputies.

  “First trial in the new courthouse,” the older man said.

  Everett stepped beside Garret. “Looks like a church, don’t it?”

  Rows of chairs on each side of the room led up to what did look to be an oversize pulpit. The room reeked of fresh paint.

  “Sure does,” he agreed.

  Bartley and his deputies led them to the room to the left of the judge’s podium. He opened the door so Garret could pass through and said, “The rest of you can wait out here.”

  “You can wait out there, as well,” Patterson said, greeting them in the doorway. “I need time to confer with my client.”

  “I’ll be right outside the door.”

  Garret moved into the small office and spotted his sister in her Sunday best beside Tucker. Chance held the arm of a woman bound in a shiny royal-blue gown and topped with a fancy black-feathered hat. Half Cora’s size, she wasn’t his wife.

  “Lucky for us they kept him handcuffed,” said Chance.

  Garret tensed. The woman in blue pushed back the black mesh on her hat, and Garret stopped breathing.

  Maggie.

  “Get her out of here!”

  “Calm down,” said Skylar.

  “I told you,” Chance muttered.

  “I trusted you!” he shouted at Chance.

  “This was your attorney’s idea!”

  Garret turned his glare on Patterson. “You’re fired.”

  “Garret, we’ve—”

  “Strafford just told Bartley to assemble a posse to hunt her down and you bring her here!”

  “I’m here of my own volition,” Maggie said as she stormed toward him.

  “He’s in the next building.”

  “We just walked right past him and he didn’t recognize her,” said Skylar.

  Holy hell.

  “Everyone thinks she’s my wife,” Chance informed him. “Cora Mae’s never been to Bitterroot Springs.”

  “I’m here to help you,” Maggie said.

  “I won’t risk your life.”

  “I won’t have one without you!”

  “She’s not going into that courtroom,” he shouted to his attorney.

  Maggie’s hands on his chest stopped his protest. The sheen in her eyes took the fight out of him. Her gloved fingers fisted his shirt, tugging him toward her.

  “I’m glad to see you,” she whispered.

  He lifted his cuffed hands and she stepped close, banding her arms around his waist as his arms encircled her. Holding her didn’t ease the panic raging inside him.

  “I don’t want you to become part of this trial.”

  “Lots of things happen in life we don’t want,” she said, looking up at him. “You told me we’d face Nathan together. That’s what we’re going to do.”

  He looked to the men standing behind her, frantic for backup.

  “Don’t look at me,” said Chance. “I was up against three strong-minded women and your slick-talking attorney.”

  “She has every right to be here,” said Patterson. “And we need you on board with our defense.”

  “I’m paying you to defend me.”

  “I am defending you. But I’m not a magician! You’ve admitted to going onto Mayor Strafford’s ranch and shooting his men. You say Maggie was in danger, they say she’s your accomplice. He says you were trying to steal his cattle and this town is eager to hang a cattle thief. Were we merely talking about missing cattle, Maggie’s testimony wouldn’t do more than earn a double hanging. This is why our defense is not to defend your actions, but to expose the truth behind Nathan Strafford’s and that lies in your lady’s testimony.”

  His lady wasn’t fond of crowds and she hadn’t eased her hold on his waist. Her tight embrace told him she was terrified, a fear that didn’t show through the determination burning in her eyes.

  “I’m doing this, Garret. I want them to see him for what he really is.”

  “If he recognizes you—”

  “Haven’t you noticed? I’m wearing a dress.”

  Despite the tension eating a hole through his spine, he grinned. “I noticed. You look beautiful.” He touched his lips to hers. “You look beautiful no matter what you wear.”

  She leaned up, whispering into his ear. “I didn’t tell them I’m wearing buckskins and a blade underneath.”

  He laughed and pulled her closer. “That’s my girl.”

  The door thumped behind Tucker, jostling his shoulders as he reclined against it.

  “Hey!” Sheriff Bartley shouted from the other side.

  “Best release her,” Chance said in a low voice. “We got ’em convinced she’s Cora Mae.”

  “Are you sure about this?”

  She tugged him back to her lips. “You’re worth the risk,” she whispered, giving him a quick, hard kiss.

  Any other time he’d have been elated by such a confession.

  She stepped back and he reluctantly lifted his arms.

  “If anything goes wrong,” Chance said as Bartley pounded on the door, “we’ll get her out.”

  “Not unless I’m dragging you with me,” Maggie said to Garret.

  “Maggie, promise me—”

  “Don’t even ask,” she said, the steel in her voice telling him she wouldn’t be swayed on leaving him.

  Tucker stepped aside as the sheriff gave a hard shove and stumbled inside. The murmur of folks packed into a crowded courtroom followed him. His narrowed gaze whipped around the room. “Time’s up. Judge wants everyone in the courtroom.”

  Chance slid his arm around Maggie’s shoulders. “Time to take our seat, darlin’,” he said, and tugged down the veil of her hat to hide her face.

  “Don’t get pushy,” she warned, her gloved hands lifting the hem of her blue skirt.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it, dearest,” he said, ushering her out the door behind Skylar and Tucker. He glanced back at Garret, his hard gaze telling him he’d fight her tooth and nail to get her to a safe place should all hell break loose.

  Sheriff Bartley stepped up to him. “You find a better alibi?” he asked.

  Even worse. His alibi, dressed in royal-blue, had found him.

  The heat and stagnant air were nearly unbearable. Maggie tried not to fidget beneath the constricting mass of blue taffeta and bulky petticoats. Wedged between the broad shoulders of the Morgans, she felt all but invisible in
the massive crowd of nearly a hundred onlookers who’d met Nathan’s attorney’s depiction of Garret as the mysterious cattle bandit of Bitterroot Springs with an outpour of applause. They had since been fairly silent.

  At the front of the room Judge Thornton reclined in his chair, his thick gray eyebrows pinched in a scowl. His threats to issue fines and clear the courtroom upon further interruptions had been taken seriously.

  “How can you claim his innocence when he admits to shooting both men dead?” asked the judge.

  “Self-defense,” said Patterson.

  Maggie watched as he looked at Garret.

  “They were about to kill an unarmed woman,” Garret told him.

  “So you claim,” the judge replied, his expression unmoved. “The infamous Mad Mag?”

  Garret glanced at Patterson who gave a nod. “No, sir,” Garret answered. “Her name is Margaret Grace Strafford, the mayor’s own sister.”

  Gasps ricocheted through the room followed by an eruption of conversation.

  “I won’t have him insulting my family!” Nathan shouted. “You know my sister died years ago,” he said to the judge.

  The Morgans leaned in, as though to hold her in her seat. She wasn’t anxious to stand, and hadn’t forgotten Patterson’s instructions to wait until he’d called her.

  “Quiet down!” Judge Thornton rapped his gavel and waited for the room to settle to a hush of soft whispers. “Mr. Patterson, you’d best confer with your client because I will not tolerate such lies in this courtroom.”

  “He’s not lying,” Patterson answered directly.

  “I don’t know what you’re trying to pull,” he said, looking at Garret, “but I can attest to the passing of Margaret Strafford. I was a frequent guest in the Strafford household and I attended her funeral.”

  “You were misled,” said Patterson. “We’d like to call our first witness. Margaret Strafford.”

  Patterson’s request was met by a charged silence. Maggie knew Nathan must be searching the room, but she kept her gaze on Judge Thornton. Shocked that he’d attended her funeral, she wondered if she should recognize him? Her father had many guests to the house, both local and from back East. She glanced at the nameplate on his desk, William P. Thornton.

  “You ready?” Chance whispered beside her.

  She stood, as did both of the Morgans.

  “This is an outrage!” Nathan shouted. “Putting that woman in a dress does not make her my sister. Arrest her!”

  Chance and Tucker stayed at her sides as she moved into the center aisle. Maggie glanced at Garret as she reached the attorneys’ tables. His gaze didn’t waver from her brother sitting on the other side.

  “Young lady.” Judge Thornton’s voice boomed over Nathan’s protests. “Do you understand that lying in this courtroom is a punishable crime?”

  “Yes.”

  His eyes narrowed as he stared at her.

  “Come here.”

  She stepped forward, the Morgans moving with her.

  “Just the lady,” the judge instructed.

  “Your Honor,” said Patterson, “we have obvious concerns for her safety.”

  “Sheriff, escort the lady to the bench.”

  Bartley rushed forward, his eyes wide with disbelief as he held his arm out to her.

  “I won’t stand for this,” Nathan raged.

  “Mayor Strafford,” the judge shouted, “you will sit down.”

  “That woman is not my sister. Arrest her or I will!”

  Ignoring his threat, Judge Thornton leaned forward as she approached him. “What is your name? I’ll warn you to think hard on that. I had supper at the Strafford table many times.”

  William. That was what her father called him. The passing years had aged the dark-haired man she now remembered as a friend of her father’s. “I do recall,” she said softly. “I believe I ruined one of your white shirts with a slice of cherry pie.”

  He stared at her a long moment. “My God,” he whispered. He slighted a quick glance in her brother’s direction, the indifference in his expression hitting Maggie with a fresh wave of fear. Just because he believed her identity didn’t mean he wouldn’t side with her brother.

  “Garret hasn’t stolen any cattle,” she said in the same hushed tone. “The rustler is Nathan. Just as he killed our father to claim his inheritance, he’s been forcing folks off their land and stealing cattle. I know where he hides the stolen stock. I could even draw you a map.”

  Judge Thornton’s gray eyebrows shot up, the first shift in his staunch expression. “And you, where have you been all these years?”

  “The mountains.”

  “Are you the one they call Mad Mag?”

  She hesitated, his reaction not giving her any indication how he intended to use all she’d revealed so far. “I am.”

  “What is she saying?” Nathan shouted. “I won’t have lies said about me in my courthouse.”

  Judge Thornton stood. “This is my courthouse, Mayor Strafford.”

  Maggie didn’t trust herself to look at him.

  “You will sit down.”

  “The hell I will!”

  A rash of screams split the air. Garret shouted her name and Maggie looked back. He leapt over the table like a madman. Gunshots exploded as he dived for her.

  He slammed her to the floor as several blasts echoed through the room. His palms cradled the back of her head as his body crushed her.

  Maggie struggled to catch the breath he’d pounded out of her.

  “Are you hurt?” Garret eased back. “Maggie?”

  “No,” she said in a shallow breath.

  He stood, lifting her in the same motion. She glanced in the direction of her brother but couldn’t see anything beyond the barrier of Garret’s crew and the Morgans.

  “Out!” the judge shouted above them. “Everyone out!”

  Garret pulled her close and Maggie startled at the sight of blood on his upper arm. “Garret!” She reached for the tear in his jacket. “You were shot?”

  “Barely a nick,” he said, glancing briefly at the injury.

  Nathan had tried to shoot her, and would have if Garret hadn’t tackled her.

  A sigh broke from his chest as he pulled her close. “You’re hard on a man’s health, Magpie.”

  The ranks of men around them having loosened, she caught a glimpse of the prosecutor’s table, and Nathan. He lay facedown over the table, his blood pooling onto the floor.

  She shivered and Garret shifted, blocking her view. “I’ve got you,” he whispered, holding her tight. Maggie shut her eyes and tried to absorb the comfort of his embrace.

  “I had to shoot him,” Sheriff Bartley said to the judge. “He wouldn’t drop the gun.”

  “Take Daines back to the jailhouse,” Judge Thornton instructed. “We’ll take statements later.”

  Maggie tightened her arms around his waist as Sheriff Bartley moved toward them.

  “I’m not leaving Maggie out in the open,” Garret protested. “He’s had a group of hired guns after her!”

  “I will not allow Miss Strafford to come to further harm. She can wait under guard in my chambers.”

  “Not unless my sister and brother-in-law accompany her.”

  The judge stepped down from his high seat, his gaze hard on Garret’s as he approached them.

  “Very well. If you will unhand her, the Morgans and the deputies will escort her safely to my chambers.”

  She stepped back, feeling his reluctance to let her go.

  “Why not just set Garret free?” asked Skylar.

  “Proclaim him innocent and we’ll leave,” Chance said from beside her.

  “This is my court, Mr. Morgan. I don’t give rulings while blood is dripping on my floor! Garret Daines will remain in custody until I say otherwise! Sheriff, get him locked up now.”

  Garret released her, his eyes dark with worry.

  “I’ll be all right,” she said.

  It had been hours since the judge had a
sked her to draw the map of the canyons and had left with the sheriff and his band of deputized citizens to investigate her claims. Maggie slumped in the overstuffed chair behind his desk while Skylar sat with Tucker and Chance near a small fireplace on the other side of the room. She didn’t feel up to being social or eating the meal a deputy had brought over for them. Just like the night spent in the Morgan house, she felt caged in. She wanted out.

  A high window revealed a patch of blue sky. She wasn’t going to spend another night in forced confinement.

  “Mag?” Chance moved to sit on the edge of the desk. He glanced at the untouched food on her plate. “You feeling okay?”

  Movement at the door saved her from another awkward conversation. She straightened as Judge Thornton walked in.

  Garret didn’t follow, delivering a sharp sting of disappointment.

  “Sorry for the long wait,” he said. “We rode out to Strafford’s place and sent men to the locations you’d specified.”

  “Did you find the cattle?” she asked.

  “We did.”

  “So the charges against Garret have been dropped?”

  “They have.”

  She surged up and moved past Chance. “We can go?”

  “Not just yet.”

  Maggie bristled.

  “Your brother’s death has left a few unresolved issues.”

  She noticed a parcel of bound papers tucked beneath his arm. Her apprehension mounted.

  “I can still remember you quite well as a young girl,” he said. “Your father was a good friend and mentor of mine.”

  She didn’t want to talk to him about her father. She wanted to see Garret.

  “We were told you’d been killed by Indians,” he said.

  Maggie shook her head. “It was Nathan.”

  “Had I even suspected…”

  “It’s all right,” she said, ready to leave.

  “No, it’s not. You won’t have to scavenge in the mountains any longer.”

  Scavenge? She didn’t scavenge!

  He held out the thick parcel of bound papers. “All of the Strafford estate belongs to you now.”

  “What?”

  “He wasn’t married. Had no children. You are the sole surviving relative and beneficiary to his estate.”

  “I don’t want it.” She took a backward step and bumped into Chance. His hands closed over her waist to steady her, which she instantly brushed away. “Half of that land was stolen.”