by Bobbi Smith
"Hale was found in an alley behind the saloon. His throat was slit," Sheriff Warren informed him. "We have multiple witnesses who heard you threaten to kill him last night. I'm taking you in.''
"But I'm innocent."
"That'll be for a jury to decide. Let's go." He gestured toward the sheriff's office with his gun. "You can come along peaceful-like or I can recruit some deputies. Which way is it going to be?"
Brand was furious, but there was little he could do right then. If he tried to make a run for it, no doubt they'd shoot him down like a dog. He was innocent, so he saw no reason why he shouldn't just go along with the sheriff and wait for things to work themselves out.
"All right, sheriff. I'll go with you."
Warren was surprised by his cooperation, but figured it was just because Brand was outnumbered. He felt great relief that things had worked out so well. It never occurred to him that Brand might be innocent. He was a half-breed, who'd been heard threatening to kill Hale by a saloon full of people only a short time before. And now Hale was dead. It didn't get much simpler than that. The case was already solved. All that remained was a trial, and that would be in just a few weeks.
"Good! Take the bastard in, Warren!" another of the men shouted as the sheriff took Brand's gun and knife and directed him toward the jail.
"He's just a breed! We know how they are! We ought to string him up now!"
"There'll be none of that!" Warren warned them as he started off toward the office. "We're going to do things by the law here. We're going to have a trial."
The men were angry. Hale was dead, murdered in a bloody crime, and they were determined that somebody pay for it.
"Sheriff, there are two witnesses who can tell you that I didn't kill Hale."
"Who are they?"
"Colonel Hancock and Lieutenant Long from the fort. They should still be in town. They can tell you that I left the saloon after the initial fight and never went back."
"Just because you never went back inside the saloon doesn't mean you didn't kill Hale. Now, get on inside and head for the back room. I want you all locked up, good and tight, where I can keep an eye on you."
Brand was furious, but did as he was told. This was not the time to cause trouble. He was innocent, and surely the colonel and the lieutenant would get him out of jail quickly.
Sheriff Warren unlocked the cell door and held the door wide for Brand to enter. When he'd gone in, the lawman slammed it shut behind him and turned the key.
"You won't be causing any trouble in there," he announced triumphantly.
"I wasn't causing you any trouble, anyway," Brand told him fiercely. "Get Hancock and Long. They'll vouch for me."
"Yeah, yeah," Warren sneered, believing he had the right man and that there was no need to investigate further. "I'll talk to them as soon as I find them. You just settle in and shut up. The less I hear out of you, the better."
The sheriff went back into the outer office and sat down at his desk. He'd go look for the officers later. Right now, he wanted to get some rest. It had been a long night.
Sheri never fell asleep. Her emotions were in too great a turmoil for her to rest. Finally giving up the effort, she rose and dressed for breakfast. When Maureen knocked on her door a little after eight, she was more than ready to go eat.
"Did you sleep well?" Sheri asked her cousin as they headed toward the restaurant.
"Like a baby," Maureen assured her. "It was wonderful to get a good night's sleep again. What about you?"
"I didn't sleep much."
"Were you worrying about something? Brand maybe?"
She nodded. "I never dreamed had become so important to me, but he has."
"I understand. He's a wonderful man, and the more we learn about him and everything that's happened to him, the more I respect him."
"I love him," Sheri admitted quietly.
"I thought so," Maureen said with a warm smile.
"Am I that obvious?"
"Only to me. I know you, remember?"
"Well, just because I love Brand doesn't mean anything is going to come of it, especially with the way he feels."
"What are you going to do about it? Are you just going to leave? Can you go home and write your books about Brand, the Half-Breed Scout, and never look back?" Maureen was deliberately forcing her to think about a future without Brand. "Or do you want to stay here and fight for what you want?"
"I'm not sure it would make any difference. I can't force him to love me."
"Maybe not, but if you leave too soon, you'll never know what could have been."
They settled in at the restaurant and had just been served their meal when they saw a man rush in and start talking excitedly to the waitress.
"It looks like he's all in an uproar about something," Sheri said, watching the animated way the man was going on.
"I wonder what happened? It must be important for him to come running in here like that."
"Well ask the waitress when she comes back," Sheri told her, only a little curious. She had too much on her mind to worry about town gossip.
A minute or two passed and then the waitress approached them.
"I suppose you know the news already, don't you? What with being friends with that breed and all," she said to them, a slight sneer in her tone.
Sheri and Maureen stared at her in confusion.
"What news?" Sheri asked, sensing suddenly that something was very wrong.
"Why, there was a murder in town last night! That's what Jones was just telling me about. They found Marcus Hale in an alley with his throat cut."
Who's Marcus Hale?"
"Mostly a drunk and a troublemaker, but he ain't going to be causing any more trouble for anybody now that he's dead. Seems the breed killed him."
"You mean Brand from Fort McDowell?"
"That's the one. They had a fight in the saloon, and everybody heard the breed tell Hale he was going to kill him. They found Hale's body just before dawn. Looks like he'd been lying there most of the night."
"No . . ." Sheri went pale, thinking of Brand's injury, of the blood on him and his evasive answer about how he'd come to be hurt. Could Brand possibly have killed a man and then come to her? For an instant she considered that he might have done it, and the thought was chilling. She had seen Brand fight. She knew what he was capable of in the heat of a battle. But no matter what other people thought of him, she knew in her heart and in her soul that Brand was no cold-blooded killer.
"The sheriff has already arrested him. I don't think it will take too long for justice to be served this time. Everybody in town's wantin' a lynching."
"Brand is no murderer," Sheri retorted.
"Lady, he's an Indian. They're all murderers." The waitress dismissed her as a half-witted Easterner and moved away, confident that her own assessment of the breed was right.
Sheri had gone pale at the news, but her expression was determined. "I have to go to Brand. I know he didn't do it."
"Of course. I'll go with you," Maureen said.
The two of them quickly paid for their half-eaten meal and left the restaurant. Sheri all but ran to the sheriff's office. She entered without pausing to find Sheriff Warren sitting at his desk. He rose as they came through the door.
"Ladies . . ." He was surprised by their appearance. "What can I do for you?"
"I need to speak to Brand, please," Sheri told him.
"That's not a good idea, my dear. He's a vicious killer, you know," he said, trying to discourage her. It was unseemly that a lovely young woman like this wanted to speak to the scout.
"Brand saved my life when we were ambushed by the Apache. The man is not a murderer," she declared with conviction, her eyes flashing fire. "I want to see him now."
"Well . . ." The sheriff looked doubtful, but as he stared at the determined young woman, who showed no sign of relenting in her request, he backed down. "All right, but just for a few minutes."
"That'll be fine," Sheri said with dignity.
"Maureen, why don't you wait here for me? I won't be long."
She followed the lawman into the back room.
"You got a visitor," Warren announced flatly.
Brand had been sitting on the cot, biding his time when he'd heard Sheri talking to the sheriff. Her spirited defense of him had touched him. It had been a long time since anyone had truly believed in him that way. When he saw her come through the door, he was surprised by the feelings that surged through him. She looked like an avenging, glorious angel coming to his rescue.
"If you'll allow us a moment, please, sheriff?" She looked at him with a disdainful expression.
Warren looked from Brand to Sheri and then nodded. "I'll be right outside if you need me. If he tries anything, all you have to do is yell, and I'll come running."
"Thank you. You're very kind, but I'm sure I'm in no danger."
She couldn't wait for the man to leave so she could talk to Brand alone. She didn't speak until she was sure the sheriff was in the outer office talking to Maureen.
"What happened?" She turned to him quickly, her proud demeanor fading before the reality of his imprisonment.
"I was heading out of town, and the sheriff arrested me for murder."
"Maureen and I heard about it from the waitress in the restaurant, so I came right over. We have to get you out of here. You didn't kill anybody last night. You were with me."
"I don't want you to tell the sheriff that we were together last night." His expression was serious as he spoke in low tones, wanting their lovemaking to remain private. "I didn't do it, and once he talks to Hancock and Long, he'll Probably let me go."
"What do they have to do with anything?"
"They can tell the sheriff that I left the bar after the fight was broken up and that I didn't come back. They're the ones who pulled me off Hale and got me out of there. If they hadn't, I damned well might have killed him. . . ." He shook his head slowly at the memory. "But I didn't."
"What did he do to make you so angry?"
The look in Brand's eyes could only be described as deadly as he remembered their encounter the night before. "I'd had a few whiskeys at the saloon. Hale was drunk and talking to another man across the room." The scene replayed in his mind with graphic intensity. The other man's words had the power to anger him even now. "He said things about Becky and about you. . . ."
"About me?" She stared at him in shock. She had worried about his injuries last night, and now she discovered that he had gotten them defending her honor. Her heartbeat quickened at the realization.
"It was ugly, and I went after him. That's when Hancock and Long walked in and broke it up. They got me out of there, and I never went back."
"Has the sheriff sent for them yet?"
"I don't know. I told him to when he brought me in. I think they went back in the saloon after I left. They probably know more about what happened to Hale than I do, so I don't want you to put your reputation at risk because of this. Well just wait it out. It'll be all right."
"You're sure?" she questioned, hating the fact that they'd locked him up and he was innocent.
"Yes. Now, go on. This is no place for a lady."
"It's no place for you, either," she returned.
"I know." He grimaced.
She started to leave, then paused to look back at him. "Thank you, Brand."
"For what?"
"For defending my honor."
Their gazes met and locked for a moment as sweet memories of the night just passed swirled around them. She turned away and went back to where Maureen had been keeping the sheriff occupied.
"I'm ready to go now," she announced. "Have you spoken with Colonel Hancock and Lieutenant Long yet?"
"No, not yet. The lieutenant headed back to the fort early this morning, but Colonel Hancock is still here on business. I've left word that I need to speak with him."
"I'm sure you'll be releasing Brand as soon as you do."
"We'll see," he said evasively. He didn't know why she was so sure the breed was innocent. Everybody knew the damned half-breed had killed Hale. Talking to Hancock wouldn't do Brand any good unless he'd been with him the entire night.
Sheri had an uneasy feeling as she left the office with Maureen.
"How was he?" Maureen asked once they were outside.
"He seemed fine, but I'm sure he'll be much better once he's been released. I wish the colonel would get here."
Hancock had heard the talk of Brand's arrest, but he had not rushed to rescue his scout. He had completed his business dealings in town and then headed toward the sheiff's office.
"Sheriff Warren? I understand there was some trouble in town last night involving one of my men," he said as he stepped into the office.
Warren rose and shook hands with the officer. "Yes, sir, Colonel Hancock. Thank you for coming in. Brand has been arrested and charged with the murder of Marcus Hale."
"Hale? The drunk who was causing all the trouble at the Gold Bar last night?"
"That's the one. We have at least five witnesses who heard Brand threaten to kill him when they were fighting last night. Your man swears he's innocent and that you can prove it."
"Well, it's true that Lieutenant Long and I broke up the fight in the bar and separated the two men, but I did not see Brand again that night after he left. Long and I had a few drinks, and then we went back to our hotel."
"So you have no personal knowledge of Brand's whereabouts at the time of the murder?"
"No, I don't, and if he is guilty, I want to see him punished to the full extent of the law. I do not take kindly to men who bring shame upon the military. I expect this to be dealt with quickly and fairly."
"We're working on it. With all the witnesses hearing him make the threat and then the way Hale was killed . . ." The sheriff remembered his first look at the body.
"How was he murdered?"
"His throat was slit."
Hancock nodded. "May I see Brand for a few minutes?"
"He's in back." The sheriff gestured toward the closed door.
The colonel went to seek out Brand.
Brand had heard the sound of voices in the outer office, but with the door closed it had been difficult to make out who the visitor was or what was being said. When it opened and Hancock appeared, he was actually glad to see the man. The colonel closed the door behind him.
"Thanks for coming, colonel," Brand said as he rose to speak to him. "Are they letting me out now?" He looked past him to see if the sheriff was following.
"I'm afraid not," Hancock answered coldly. "Though I can testify to your actions up until you left the saloon, I can't really say what you did after that. So until you can prove where you were, you are the primary suspect."
"I didn't do it!" Brand said, angry and frustrated. He knew that Sheri could clear his name, but in doing so she would forever ruin hers.
"You know me. I wouldn't do anything like this."
''Know you? I know nothing about you. You're a half-breed."
"But I'm innocent!" Brand protested, looking up at the colonel and seeing the unmistakable hatred in his eyes.
Hancock smiled a feral smile at the man who'd been married to his daughter. "I'm sure you are, but how are you going to prove it? Do you have any witnesses who could testify as to what you were doing for all those hours?"
When he didn't answer, the colonel shrugged.
"I wonder what Becky would think of you now, locked up like an animal after spending the night with another white woman."
"Wait a minute . . . You saw me last night?"
"Last night was interesting. I saw a lot of things. But today . . ." He chuckled. "Today is most satisfying."
He walked out without another word.
Brand stared after him, shocked by what the man had just revealed. The colonel knew he hadn't done it, yet he was refusing to tell the sheriff. He'd always known the man didn't like him, but he'd never realized just how much he hated him until now. He sat back down on the cot and rested
his head in his hands, wondering what he could do to prove his innocence.
Hancock found Sheriff Warren waiting for him in the outer office.
"I've spoken with Brand, but I don't think there's much more I can do to help. I'll speak with the lieutenant when I get back to the fort and see if he's aware of anything that can help you."
"That'll be good. There was talk earlier of a lynching, but I think folks have calmed down for now."
"We'll wait to hear from you."
Hancock left the office and decided to stop by the Gold Bar before starting back to the fort. He was surprised to find Charles Brennan there sitting at a table, deep in conversation with the bartender and several of the customers.
"So, is that all you remember from last night?" Charles was asking, taking notes as they responded. "Did anyone else leave right before Hale or just after him?"
The three men frowned and tried to remember exactly what had transpired the night before.
"People were in and out all night. I didn't see any sign of the half-breed again, though." The barkeep was frowning in concentration. "And good thing, too, after trying to bust up the place. The colonel left, and so did the lieutenant, close about the same time as Hale, I believe. But the rest of the regulars stayed on. It was late when I closed up." The barkeep looked at the others to see if anyone could think of anything else.
"So no one heard anything unusual or saw anything out of the ordinary?" Charles questioned.
"Not after the fight. Hale kept mouthing off about the half-breed, but that was about all."
Charles waited a moment to see if anyone had anything to add. When they didn't, he thanked them and got up to leave.
"Colonel Hancock, it's good to see you," Charles said in greeting. "I've been interviewing everyone for the paper, and I wondered if I might talk to you for a minute?"
"Of course. This is all so tragic and senseless."
"Murder is. I don't know if you heard what the other men were saying, but they didn't notice anything unusual after Brand was taken from the saloon. Did you?"
"No. It was pretty quiet. I just spoke with the sheriff and couldn't help him much either. He was hoping I could tell him of Brand's whereabouts after the fight, but I didn't see him again that night."