Excited whispers made their way through the room, growing and building like a tidal wave.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Jed muttered. “You were right all along.”
The crowd grew louder; people no longer whispered or remained in their seats. Everyone reacted in one way or another to the outbursts. Hannah rose up on her toes, but she couldn’t see anything, not even Rose. She couldn’t move, as the crowd pressed around her, jostling her and threatening to push her back.
Jed took her arm and made his way through the crowd easily, guiding her alongside him. He headed straight for the baffled judge.
“Your Honor,” he said as he approached the table where the judge sat.
The judge, a younger man than Hannah had expected, laid his eyes on Jed. “You,” he breathed with evident animosity.
Jed smiled down at Hannah. “Harry and I are old friends.”
“I can see that.”
He returned his attention to the judge. “Harry...” In apparent apology, he offered a sheepish smile. “Your Honor, I have something to say.”
The noise from the crowd eventually died down, until all was silent but for the occasional sob from a distraught Rose.
“Your Honor, the jury has found Baxter Sutton guilty of murder, but you’re the one who sets the sentence. Now, I know murder is a serious charge, and under the usual circumstances a hanging would be forthcoming.”
Rose wailed.
“But the fact of the matter is, Reverend Clancy was a no-good backstabbing womanizer, and Sutton was just defending his wife and his family. I would’ve done the same thing in his shoes.” He leaned close to the table and lowered his voice. “Of course that’s the kind of man I am. I have honor, Harry. I defend my own. And I can be trusted with even the most scandalous secrets.” He winked at the suddenly pale judge.
“What do you suggest, Mr. Rourke?” Harry asked, his left eyebrow twitching nervously.
“Sutton has served over a month in the Rock Creek jail. I’d say that’s good enough.”
There was a moment of hesitation while the judge pursed his lips and shook his head. Finally, he brought down his gavel. “Time served.”
A puzzled Baxter looked at Hannah and Jed, and then at the judge. “Are you saying I’m free to go?”
The judge shook his head. “Yep. Try not to kill anyone else. And in the future keep knives out of your wife’s reach. I don’t want to see either of you ever again.”
“You won’t,” Baxter promised, and then he ran through the mob to the row where Rose sat, still sobbing.
Hannah smiled up at Jed. “You’re amazing,” she whispered.
He grinned down at her.
“Now all we have to do is find the man who really killed Clancy,” she said. That man was no doubt the one who had tried to kill her. Where would the trail the sheriff and his friends tracked lead?
Jed’s smile faded. “Honey, Rose killed Clancy. Mystery solved.”
Hannah could not believe what she was hearing. “She did not. When she said that she was just attempting to get Baxter off. They were covering for each other.”
“No. I saw her face when she confessed. She did it.”
“Did not.”
“Did.”
Hannah glared at him. “Then who tried to kill me yesterday?” Ha! Let him come up with an answer for that one.
“Oh, could be one of many,” he grumbled. “You’ve managed to piss off a shitload of people since you got here.”
“No one who would... who would”—oh, she couldn’t catch her breath!—“who would go to such extreme measures.”
“Hannah,” Jed said, lowering his head and his voice, “you provoke extreme at every turn.”
“You obstinate miscreant.”
“Stubborn wench.”
“You need a bath.”
He grinned. “So do you.”
Hannah spun around and stalked away, her spine straight and her chin high. She couldn’t get near Rose at the moment; her sister was so completely surrounded by friends and the out-and-out curious. Besides, she felt too close to losing control, too close to hysteria. That simply would not do.
Clinging to what was left of her poise, she made her way to the stairs and her room. She scanned the faces she passed, faces most often smiling or confused. One face she spotted that did not give in to a smile belonged to the widow Clancy, who glared at Jed and then at Hannah. Sylvia couldn’t be happy about Jed coming forward to see that Baxter received the lightest possible sentence, especially since she’d specifically asked him to see that Baxter hung for his alleged crime.
Baxter was safe, but that wasn’t enough. Justice would not be served until the real killer was caught and Baxter’s and Rose’s names were cleared. If she had to continue the investigation on her own, then so be it.
In the safety of her room, she locked the door and leaned against it. So much had happened in the last twenty-four hours! She didn’t think she would be able to absorb it all until she’d had a bath, a meal, a shot of whiskey, and a good night’s sleep in a soft, warm bed.
She peeled off her cloak and had begun to unbutton her jacket when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her hair stood up and fell down, tangled and shooting out in all directions. Her suit was ruined, filthy and torn in several places. Her face was pale, there were dark circles under her eyes, and worst of all, most mortifying, were the red places on her chin and cheek. The marks had been left by Jed’s beard, certainly. Everyone who had seen her downstairs surely knew...
No. No one had been looking at her. All eyes had been on Baxter and Rose, and then on Jed.
I look horrendous, Hannah thought with dismay as she raised her hand to the mark on her cheek. No wonder Jed had called her a... a... What had he called her? A stubborn wench.
Hannah smiled at the horrid reflection in the mirror. Well, she was stubborn, and he’d called her much worse names than wench.
She and Jed Rourke had nothing in common; she knew that well. He was a self-professed wanderer, a crude man who valued his freedom above all else. She had more responsibilities than most women would know in a lifetime. She had a home, and a plantation, and a family who needed her to step in and straighten things out when they fell apart.
Hannah caressed the red mark on her cheek. All her life she’d been a dutiful daughter, a fair if stern employer, and a responsible member of the community. For the first time in her life, she felt like a woman.
It had been easy, last night, to forget who and what she was. She could forgive herself the foolishness of surrender, given the circumstances, but she couldn’t allow it to happen again. There was too much at stake. She had too much to lose.
Her heart.
Chapter 13
Sullivan, Rico, and Reese returned with nothing to show for their efforts. The bushwhackers had been careful, backtracking and then leading their horses over rocky terrain impossible to track. Jed told them what had happened at the trial, leaving out his parting argument with Hannah.
“You were right about one thing,” Sullivan said as they walked into the deserted dining room. “There were two of them, a big man and a smaller accomplice. The second shooter could’ve been a kid, but I couldn’t tell.”
“It could have been a woman in a man’s boots,” Rico added.
Sullivan shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“Sullivan just doesn’t think a woman would be devious enough to sneak up and shoot another woman,” Reese added with a tired smile.
“The second shooter was either a kid or a skinny man,” Sullivan insisted.
“I think Eden has influenced your thinking where women are concerned,” Reese said.
“All right,” Sullivan conceded grudgingly. “The second shooter might have been a woman.”
“Oliver Jennings,” Jed said thoughtfully. “He pulled a gun on Hannah once, when she asked him about his sister and Clancy. He wasn’t happy to have that old rumor dug up again.”
Sullivan shook
his head. “Maybe, but then who was the larger man?”
“Coulda been anyone.”
“Anyone wearing a new pair of fancy boots,” Sullivan added.
“Wouldn’t hurt to talk to Jennings, now would it?”
Sullivan nodded. “Tomorrow morning.”
Eden, hearing the voices, rushed into the room and straight to her husband. “You must be starving,” she said as she went up on her toes and gave him a hug. “You will all stay for supper.”
Rico and Reese declined the offer and headed home to their own wives.
“Oh, Sin,” Eden said as she took Sullivan’s arm and walked with him to the nearest table. “It was so exciting! Rose stood up and said she did it, and then Baxter stood up and said he did it, and then Jed spoke to the judge and Baxter was let off with time served. I still don’t know who did it!”
“Rose did it,” Jed said through gritted teeth. Had no one else seen the expression on her face as she confessed? She had been terrified, but she had not been lying.
Eden looked at him, wide-eyed. “I don’t think so. Not Rose.”
“That’s right. Rose is incapable of murder.”
Ah, that stern voice. Jed turned to watch Hannah walk regally into the dining room. She had taken a bath, had a nap, and dressed in a simple outfit consisting of a prim white blouse and a full plum-colored skirt. Her hair was tamed and piled on top of her head. The rash on her face had faded, quite a bit, or else she had disguised the marks with face powder.
She definitely did not look like she’d spent the night trapped in a cave, sleeping on the hard, cold ground... wrapping her legs around him and moaning his name.
“Everyone is capable of murder,” Jed argued, “in the right circumstances. Have you spoken with Rose yet? Have you asked her?”
“No.” Hannah met his stony gaze with one of her own. “I fell asleep and just woke a short while ago. It’s so late, I decided to wait until morning to speak with my sister.” She turned her attention to Eden, and her entire face softened, became unbearably beautiful.
“I was wondering if it’s too late to get something to eat. I am positively starving.”
Eden smiled widely. “How about a late supper for four. I was waiting for Sin to get home, and Jed didn’t eat earlier, I know.”
A touch of mild distress crossed Hannah’s face. “That would be lovely.”
* * *
“You two look none the worse for wear,” Eden said cheerfully as they passed around butter and jam for the biscuits. Scrambled eggs and thick slices of ham finished off the full plates. “You certainly don’t look like you spent the night trapped in a cave. It must’ve been dreadful.”
Hannah had the urge to reach across the table and slap the sheriff, who looked as if he were about to burst out laughing. He contained his hilarity very well, though she imagined he would share his suspicions with his wife later. Hannah was only slightly mortified.
“It was quite dreadful,” she agreed, spooning a dollop of blackberry jam onto one half of her biscuit, unable to look at Jed, who sat silently at her other side.
“You’re lucky you had Jedidiah with you,” Eden said softly. “He can be handy to have around in a crisis.”
“Handy,” Hannah agreed simply, studying the blackberry jam with great interest.
The sheriff almost choked on his biscuit.
Hannah cast a quick sideways glance at Jed. He looked annoyingly wonderful, in spite of the ordeal they’d survived. He’d bathed and changed into clean clothes, and his hair hung in waving, golden strands to his shoulders. His eyes were the most beautiful thing about him, she decided as she cut a bite-sized piece of ham. Blue and spellbinding, they were his best feature.
Of course, his nose was quite nice, too. Long and straight and lovely, a man’s nose set in a harshly strong face. The hair was nice, too, she conceded silently. Unfashionable, perhaps, but lovely. And his body was...
“Are you all right?” Eden asked softly, laying her hand over Hannah’s.
Only then did Hannah realize that she’d cut a portion of her ham into tiny, tiny pieces. “I’m fine. Just very tired, still.”
“Of course you are,” Eden said, patting Hannah’s hand affectionately. “As soon as you’ve eaten, it’s off to bed with you.”
“I slept all afternoon”—Hannah sighed—“and I’m still exhausted.”
Eden smiled and laid a hand over her stomach. “I know what you mean. It’s impossible to fight exhaustion. I wasn’t sick at all with Fiona, and so far I haven’t been sick with this one. But sometimes I feel like I could sleep twenty hours a day!”
Jed mumbled something low and indecipherable. Hannah decided it was just as well no one knew what he was grumbling.
But Eden’s rambling had Hannah wondering. What if last night or this morning had left her carrying Jed’s child? She hadn’t thought of the possibility until now, and strangely enough she found she was not at all distressed by the idea.
If, when she returned home, she found herself with child, she’d handle it as she handled everything else. The best she could. She might take that long trip abroad she’d always wanted to take, and while she was there she’d have her baby. When she returned home she could say she’d adopted the child on her journey.
Or she could tell the truth and the rest of the world be damned.
Eden finished eating and began to carry plates and glasses to the kitchen. Her husband helped her, leaving Jed and Hannah alone at the table, two cups of weak, sweet tea before them.
“I could use a shot of whiskey,” Hannah said to herself.
“Me, too,” Jed grumbled. Without another word, he stood, took her hand, and pulled Hannah to her feet. “Come on.”
When Eden entered the dining room from the kitchen, Jed thanked her for dinner and continued on, practically dragging Hannah into the lobby.
“Jedidiah,” Eden called, “Hannah needs to get to bed!”
“I know,” he mumbled as he pulled her onto the boardwalk and into the street.
They walked across the street to Three Queens, which was by far the liveliest business in Rock Creek. Music drifted toward them, the notes of a well-played piano and a lovely voice filling the air.
“Jed, really...” Hannah protested.
“This is the only place in town to get a decent drink, these days.”
“I don’t really need a drink.”
“I do,” he grumbled.
The place was pretty crowded, for a Monday night. A few people drank and played cards, but most of them sat and listened to the singer, Lily Salvatore.
Lily was dressed in a fancy silk gown, her hair was elaborately styled, and she was stunningly beautiful. The kind of beauty that could make a man stop in his tracks. Was that lip rouge?
Jed nodded to Rico, who stood near the stage. They weaved around tables and past the bar, to the back of the room. There, Jed opened a door and pulled her inside.
Hannah found herself in a large storeroom. Shelves were lined with glasses and bottles and trays, cartons had been shoved against the walls, and a table with a broken leg sat in the middle of it all.
Jed lit a lantern, set it on a bare space on the shelf, and closed the door.
“Sit down,” he said, tipping his head to a sturdy-looking carton.
Too exhausted to argue, she sat.
Jed grabbed a bottle from the top shelf and two glasses from just beneath. He placed the glasses on the precariously balanced table in the center of the storeroom and poured.
Her brain told her clearly that last night had been a terrible mistake. But even now, exhausted and angry and befuddled, her body told her differently. All she had to do was look at Jed and her heart beat faster. A warmth, radiating from the inside out, filled her. The world became a softer, gentler place. She wanted, more than anything, to touch Jed again. To hold him.
To shift her traitorous thoughts, she spoke. “Your sister and her husband are a lovely couple, even if the sheriff is a moron.”
He snorted as he placed the bottle aside and lifted their glasses. “Lovely couple, my ass. Eden could’ve done better. A lot better.”
She took the glass he offered, but did not take her eyes from his face. “How can you say that? She obviously adores him, and he...”
“He can’t keep his damn hands off her,” Jed interrupted, as he sat on the crate next to hers. “So here she is in Rock Creek, working too hard running that hotel, raising three kids that aren’t hers, one that is, and now there’s another one on the way. God in heaven, I can just imagine that hotel a few years from now. If they keep this up there won’t be any room for paying customers!” Hannah smiled and took a sip of the whiskey.
“It’s nothing to smile about,” Jed snapped. “She could’ve married someone with money”—he took a quick drink of his own—“and a little self-control.”
Hannah’s smile died. “Eden is wonderfully happy here,” she said. “Trust me when I tell you that money doesn’t guarantee such happiness.”
He cast her a suspicious glance. “I know, but...”
“And marrying for money is the worst kind of folly,” she interrupted.
Jed reached out one big hand and caressed her cheek. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Don’t be.” She sighed when he dropped his hand. “I just have a different point of view on the subject, that’s all. Do you think no one has ever proposed marriage to me? I might not be a great beauty, and I might not have your sister’s charm, but I do have the one thing some men run willingly and unerringly to. Money.”
She would trade everything she had for someone to look at her the way the sheriff looked at his wife. She would gladly give away the plantation, the cash, the things she surrounded herself with, for that kind of happiness.
“How can you say you’re not beautiful?” Jed asked gruffly.
“I have a mirror, Jed,” she said, not allowing her sentimental introspection to show on her face or in her voice. “I know well my strengths and weaknesses.”
His hand wandered back to touch her cheek, there where he’d left his mark on her last night. “The only weakness you have is that you’re a bit too stubborn.”
Jed (The Rock Creek Six Book 4) Page 15