Rides a Hero sb-2

by Heather Graham

  "And what are we supposed to do?" Shannon demanded bitterly. "Just go home and wait for the years to go by?"

  "We'll find a way to return."

  "When?" Shannon demanded, wrenching her dress over her head. "Malachi, I don't mind—"

  He caught her against him and kissed her. He broke away from her, smiling ruefully. "That is the only way to shut you up, you know."

  "Malachi—"

  "No." He kissed her again, then caught her hand, pulling her along.

  "Wait!" Shannon cried. She pulled back, flushing as she did up the numerous little buttons on her gown.

  He paused, looking around. Shannon was about to argue again when he suddenly went very tense and brought his fingers to his lip. He drew his gun, and pulling her behind him, crept along the trees.

  A few minutes later, Shannon began to hear the sounds as well. There were men and horses deeper in the woods. She crept along beside Malachi until they neared a small encampment.

  There were about fifteen of them, all dressed in clean blue uniforms. They were a cavalry unit, and a young group at that. Two of the men were cleaning their carbines; one leaned against a tree reading, and the others were finishing a meal, laughing and talking idly.

  "Damn!" Malachi muttered. "We've got to slip back and get the others to move."

  Shannon nodded. She turned around to hurry with him, then hesitated and looked back, anxious to see if they had been spotted. They had not. The men didn't even look up. She turned again to follow Malachi, well ahead of her now and running in a half crouch through the bracken. Suddenly, she screamed, crashing straight into a blue-clad soldier who appeared from behind a tree.

  He gasped, as startled as she, and she realized that he had been taking care of personal business in the bushes.

  "Excuse me!" Shannon muttered.

  "Excuse me, ma'am," the man apologized. Then his eyes narrowed. "Hey, wait a minute," he began, his hand falling upon her shoulder.

  "Let her go!" Malachi called out. He stood ahead of them, leveling his gun calmly at the man.

  But by then all the young cavalry boys were up and stumbling around looking for their weapons, and the most prepared were already through the trees.

  "Let her go!" Malachi insisted.

  "Slater!" Someone called suddenly. Shannon saw that it was the officer in charge. And he must have known Malachi, because he raised his hands, displaying that he carried no weapon, and he walked forward.

  "Captain Slater," the officer called, "I know you—"

  "I don't know you."

  "I know your brother Cole. I'm Major Kurt Taylor. We were together in the West before the war broke out." He hesitated. "I saw him in Kansas. Before he went up against Henry Fitz."

  "Ain't that nice," Malachi drawled softly. "I don't want to hurt anybody, major. Tell him to let my wife go."

  "Captain Slater, I know that you could shoot down half my boys in a matter of seconds."

  "That's right. So let her go."

  "Captain, we were sent to find you."

  "What?" Malachi asked warily.

  "Judge Sherman Woods sent us out. I can't make promises—"

  "I wouldn't trust a promise from a Yank anyway," Malachi interrupted.

  "You've got a beautiful wife, captain. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life running? Or do you want to take a minute and listen to me?"

  "Start talking."

  "I can't leave, captain. So to get away from me, you're going to have to kill these men. If you come in with me, I'll promise you and your brothers a fair trial."

  "What's to make me think the Union will keep this promise?"

  "You'll have to trust Judge Woods, Captain Slater. You went to him for help, and he wants to help. But you have to give him the chance to do so."

  "I'm sorry—" Malachi began.

  "Malachi!" Shannon cried in anguish. "Please! For God's sake, please! Give us this chance."

  He was very still for a long time. Tall, proud, his Confederate greatcoat over his shoulders, his plumed hat waving in the breeze. His jaw was hard, his eyes cold, his chin rigid and high.

  Then he exhaled and tossed his gun down.

  "I couldn't shoot those boys anyway," he said quietly. "I just couldn't kill any more damned children. They say that the war is over. Major, we'll have to see if it is."

  Major Taylor nodded. "Captain, will you do something for me?"

  "What's that?"

  "Go talk to your brothers. If I can, I'd like to avoid being a target for a Slater."

  Malachi nodded. He reached out a hand to Shannon, and she ran to his side. Together, they walked through the woods with Major Taylor behind them.

  When they reached the others, Jamie instantly drew his gun. Cole and Matthew followed suit.

  "Kurt!" Cole said, slowly lowering his Colt. "What's going on?'' he asked Malachi.

  "You do know this fellow?" Malachi asked Cole.

  Cole nodded. "What—"

  "Judge Woods sent me out to find you. We'll give you a fair trial in Missouri. It will be fair, I swear it on my honor."

  Cole looked at Malachi, a question in his eyes.

  "I'm tired of running," Malachi said. "And honor is honor. Blue or gray. I believe this man has some. I've already surrendered to him."

  "Well," said Cole, "it's what we wanted when we talked to Judge Woods. Jamie?"

  Jamie shrugged his shoulders. "I don't trust Yankee honor much, but I'll go with you and Malachi, Cole."

  The two men dropped their guns on the ground.

  "I just hope I don't end up hanging," Jamie muttered.

  "You won't hang!" Shannon cried. She clung to Mala-chi's hand. She wouldn't let him hang. She couldn't.

  Malachi turned to her. He swept off his hat and took her into his arms and kissed her long and deep for everyone to see. Then he broke away from her, replacing his hat on his head. He strode over to the bay and mounted. "Whenever you're ready, major. Your prisoner, sir." He saluted sharply.

  Major Taylor saluted in return.

  Cole kissed Kristin, and he and Jamie followed Malachi's lead, mounting their horses.

  Then they rode away, without looking back.

  Kristin started to sob. Matthew came up to her and put his arm around her, and then he gathered Shannon to him, too. "It's going to be all right. I swear to you, it will be all right."

  "It will be!" Shannon agreed fiercely. "It has to be."

  Iris cleared her throat. "I managed to make the fire, and Jamie managed to shoot the rabbits. Let's sit down and eat. And then we can head back and plan some strategy."

  "She learns really fast," Matthew said with a grin. "Let's eat."

  She tried to smile. She could not. But she slipped her arm around Kristin's waist and led her to the fire.

  They did eat. When they were done, Kristin mounted with Matthew and Shannon sat behind Iris, and they started their cold, lonely trek back home to Missouri.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The trial took place in Springfield. The courthouse was crowded with spectators, and with artists from Harpers and from every other leading paper and magazine.

  Shannon had visited Malachi in jail, and she hated the experience. He was distant from her there. She knew that he loved her, and that he was in jail for her sake. But not even for her would he deny any of his brothers, and he explained to her that the brothers had determined to stand together. They would not opt for separate legal representation, nor would Jamie and Malachi seek lesser charges.

  Malachi smiled ruefully to Shannon through the heavy iron bars of the jail. "We are all innocent."

  "Cole wouldn't want you to hang because he rode with Quantrill."

  "Tell me, Shannon, could you bear it if Cole were to hang because he sought to avenge the death of a beautiful and innocent bride? His wife, a woman carrying his child? She was my sister-in-law. I would have joined Cole at any time; I was already in the Confederate cavalry."

  "Malachi—"

  "If you l
ove me, Shannon, you must love me for the man that I am. My brothers and I stand together."

  She turned away, tears in her eyes. Cole already would have tried to convince Malachi and Jamie to save themselves. The Slaters were a stubborn lot.

  And no…she could not bear it if Cole were to hang! They had all paid enough; the war was over. She could not accept any further horror—they had to win.

  The first day of the trial was wretched, although their lawyer, Mr. Abernathy, was a skilled defender, with a sure belief in the Slater brothers' innocence. Shannon was pleased with him, even if he didn't pressure the men to stand alone. But Taylor Green, the prosecuting attorney, scared her. He seemed to personally want the Slater brothers to hang, all three.

  When the trial started, Green immediately struck upon Cole Slater's association with William Quantrill. There were dozens of witnesses to testify to that association. But they weren't necessary, for at the end Cole quietly admitted to it. In a low, controlled voice he described the scene at his own ranch, years before, at the very outbreak of the war, when the jayhawkers had come to kill his wife. Shannon listened to him, and ached for him. He did not break or falter, but she saw it all through his eyes. She saw his young wife, she heard the woman screaming, and running, running, trying to reach her husband. He made them feel what it was like, to catch her as she fell, to feel her blood upon his hands…

  The court was still when he finished. Not even Mr. Taylor Green managed to speak for several seconds.

  And then there was a recess for the day.

  Kristin came to the witness stand the next day and described in graphic detail how Zeke Moreau had murdered their father, and how Cole Slater had ridden to their rescue.

  "Against the bushwhackers?" the prosecuting attorney asked her scathingly. "You want us to believe, Mrs. Slater, that your husband rode against his old comrades at arms? Maybe they just made a deal there instead, isn't that possible?"

  "No, sir, it isn't possible at all," Kristin said. "He came and saved our lives. And he returned with Malachi and Jamie Slater to save the lives of half a Union company when Zeke Moreau came back again."

  Kristin was fierce and beautiful and unfaltering. Taylor Green did not care to have her on the stand long.

  Malachi was called.

  He walked to the witness stand in full dress uniform, and Shannon's heart felt as if it had been torn. He was tall and straight, distinguished and ruggedly indomitable, and he was the handsome cavalier who had captured her heart.

  "Captain Slater—well, of course, you are a civilian now, aren't you, sir?"

  "The war is over," Malachi said flatly.

  "But you choose to wear that uniform."

  "We fought with honor."

  "You still deny the Union?"

  "The war is over," Malachi repeated.

  "You would like it to continue? You still think that the South can rise again and whip the North, eh, captain?''

  "No, sir. I think that the war is over, and I damned well would like it to end for good!"

  A loud murmur rose in the courtroom. Shannon smiled. It seemed the first ray of hope. The people were with her husband.

  "Did you ride with Quantrill?"

  "No."

  "Never?"

  "No, never. But I would have ridden with my brother. If you'd seen his wife, lying in a pool of innocent blood, you'd have ridden, too."

  "Captain, you seem to be an ornery sort."

  "I'm telling you the truth, and that is all. This is a court of law, and we are sworn to the truth, right?"

  "You're bold with your brand of truth."

  "I have to be. And I have to believe that there is still justice in this land. If justice has not been lost, then my brother Cole is innocent, and so are James and I."

  "You were regular army."

  "Southern cavalry. Under John Hunt Morgan."

  "Sounds like you avoided the border war, captain. So tell me, why don't you come clean, and give us the truth about Cole Slater."

  "The truth is, Mr. Green," Malachi said, his eyes narrowed sharply, "that my brother is one of the finest men I've ever met in my life. In the North or the South. And if Cole is guilty for wanting to hunt down the man who murdered his wife, then I'm guilty, too. I would have been with him if I could have been."

  "An admission, gentlemen of the jury, there you have it! You may step down, Captain Slater!"

  "Admission!" Shannon didn't know that she was the one who had shouted until everyone turned to look her way. "Admission! Why, you Yankee bastard!"

  There was an instant uproar. Some people were laughing, and some, the northern sympathizers, were offended. The judge slammed down his gavel. "Young woman, one more such outburst and I shall hold you in contempt! Are we understood?"

  She sank into her chair. Only then did she realize that Malachi was watching her, too, and that a smile curled his lip. She lowered her eyes, then met his once again, and the smile warmed her and gave her courage.

  Malachi walked down from the stand, and Jamie was called up for questioning. He was barely civil, but Taylor Green didn't manage to get a single rise out of him. Jamie could be as stubborn and proud a Slater as either of his brothers.

  Shannon sat in the court with Kristin and Matthew and Iris, listening to it all. When the session broke, she was allowed to see Malachi for a few minutes.

  "Yankee bastard?" Malachi teased her, his eyes dancing. "Did I hear you say that? You, Shannon McCahy Slater, called that man a Yankee bastard?"

  "Malachi!"

  "I could die happy, hearing those words upon your lips!"

  "Don't you dare talk of dying!"

  "I'm sorry."

  "Damn your pride!" she told him savagely, tears glisten-ing in her eyes. "You are innocent, and it's as if you're trying to make yourself sound guilty!"

  He smiled, tilted her chin and kissed her. "I can only tell the truth, Shannon."

  She wanted to say more. She wanted to argue and hit him and make him see reason, but an officer of the court came and took him away, and she wasn't able to say anything more.

  The days went on, and the situation began to appear bleaker and bleaker.

  It wasn't that it didn't seem to be a fair trial. It was just that Taylor Green seemed to know how to make a simple statement of fact sound like a full confession. And the fact remained that Cole had ridden with Quantrill. No matter how briefly he had done so, it was enough to condemn him in many hearts. Still, she knew that his first speech had also touched the hearts of many. The brutal slaying of a young woman was a heinous act to any ordinary man, be he a Yankee or a Rebel.

  On the fourth night of the trial Shannon went to see Mr. Abernathy. He was at dinner, and his housekeeper nearly stopped her from reaching him, but she pushed by. He was just about to start eating his dinner—a lamb chop, peas and a roasted potato.

  "What are you doing?" Shannon demanded. She was so distraught that she picked up his plate and tossed it into the corner of the room.

  He arched his snowy brows, and cleaned his fingers on the napkin that was tied about his throat and covered his chest He smiled slowly at her and glanced remorsefully toward his lamb. "Mrs. Slater, I could call this assault! At the very least, it's a case of assault against a very fine lamb chop!"

  "I'm sorry," Shannon murmured swiftly. She was sorry. She drew up a chair at the table. "I'm just so worried—"

  Mr. Abernathy smiled again and took her hand, patting it "Trust me, Mrs. Slater. Trust me."

  "They could hang, sir!"

  "I'm not going to let them hang. Now you'll see, you'll see."

  "When?"

  "Why, tomorrow, I do believe. The prosecution seems to have finished. I'll start with my case tomorrow. And I'll wager you two lamb chops that I'll need but a day!"

  Shannon couldn't believe that he could possibly undo all the harm that Mr. Green had done. But he gave her a glass of sherry, and shooed her out the door.

  Shannon went back to the hotel, where she found Kristi
n red-eyed and puffy-faced from crying. Shannon hugged her sister and lied through her teeth. "It's going to be all right. Mr. Abernathy has it all well in hand. Why, he says he can have them freed by tomorrow!"

  "He can?" Kristin wanted so badly to believe.

  In the morning, Mr. Abernathy stood before the court and addressed the judge. "My defense is simple. I will prove that we've no case against any of these men, no foundation for a charge of murder. And, your Honor, I will request that the case be dismissed!"

  The judge invited Mr. Abernathy to proceed. Mr. Taylor looked up in protest, and Mr. Abernathy bowed very politely to him. He looked around, opening his arms to the court.

  Then Shannon realized that the courtroom was curiously filled with men, officers in blue and gray.

  One by one they stood and addressed the judge.

  "Sir, I'm Corporal Rad Higgins, U.S. cavalry. I came here to say that I rode with Malachi Slater back in April, against a horde of bushwhackers. I rode with Jamie and Cole Slater, too. I'd like to testify, sir, that I ain't ever rode with better men."

  "Sir, I'm Samuel Smith. First Sergeant, Darton's brigade,

  Union army. I'd been left for dead when these fellows came riding in. The fought and beat Quantrill's offshoots, and they offered me the finest medical care. Their doc even saved my arm, and it had been shot up mighty bad."

  From a man with the stripes of an artillery sergeant on his arms: "I knew Cole Slater in Kansas before the war. I never met a finer officer."

  One by one, the men stood. Soldiers in blue, soldiers in gray.

  Then a woman stood up, plump, dignified, gray-haired.

  "I'm Martha Haywood, and this is my husband, and I come to say that I ain't ever met finer people than Captain Malachi Slater and his bride, and that's a fact. And my husband will testify to that fact, too." Mr. Haywood stood alongside her.

  Shannon looked around, incredulous. They were all there. Jamie's Confederate friends from Texas, the people from Haywood, even the professional gamblers from the saloon. And one by one they testified with moving stories to the honesty and honor of the Slater brothers.

  When it was over, the judge stood. He slammed his gavel against his desk.