“Not very.” She sat huddled on the cot, the blanket wrapped around her. Beneath it her underclothes clung to her skin, but Tessa kept them on. Removing her dress with him there had probably been bad enough; removing her undergarments would surely be unthinkable. She hoped the night wouldn’t hold too many more humiliations. “But I’d rather wear this”— she lifted a corner of the blanket—“than those.” She nodded toward the blue dress and the black net stockings.
David shoved the discarded clothes through the bars, and Deputy Harris quickly removed them. Minutes later the deputy brought two mugs of steaming hot coffee along with the water without being asked a second time. He even threw a few more scuttles of coal into the stove, but the heat barely penetrated the cold of the hallway and the cell.
David grinned as he watched Tessa Roarke sipping her coffee. It was remarkable how quickly rules, even city council rules, could be broken, to soothe a distraught woman. He studied her as he sat across from her in a straight-backed wooden chair. She appeared calm.
David cradled his own cup of coffee in an effort to warm his hands. “Can you tell me what happened?”
Tessa fixed her gaze on him. “I could.”
“Well?” David waited.
She answered him with a question of her own. “What about Coalie?”
“What about him?” David took a sip of coffee.
“Is he all right? Was he hurt?”
“He’s fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Now it’s your turn,” David reminded her. “I answered your question. You’re supposed to answer mine.”
“Who are you?” she asked. “Why are you here?”
“That’s two more questions.” David shifted his weight on the uncomfortable chair, then stood up. “My name is David Alexander. I’m an attorney. I’ve come to offer my services.”
Tessa snorted in disbelief. It was a tiny, elegant snort, but a snort all the same. “Out of the goodness of your heart?”
“Maybe,” David answered.
“No, thank you. I’ll keep my own counsel,” Tessa replied, not wanting to admit she didn’t have the money to pay him. She didn’t want to admit the pittance she earned at the Satin Slipper barely covered room and board.
“That wouldn’t be wise.” David looked at her closely. She obviously didn’t want him as an attorney. And he certainly didn’t need the aggravation. He studied the dark bluish rings under her eyes and the way her teeth bit at her bottom lip. She might not want him, but she needed him. And for some reason he wanted to help. “You’re going to need a good attorney, Miss Roarke.”
“Are you a good attorney?” The musical lilt in her voice was very pronounced.
“My clients think so.”
Tessa stood up and took a couple of steps toward him. “What about you, Mr. Alexander? Do you think you’re the best?”
“Not the best,” David answered. “But good.”
“Good enough for a saloon girl accused of murder?”
“Yes,” David told her.
“At least you’re honest.” She turned on her heel and walked back to the cot, carefully stepping around David’s coat. “I hope you’re right.”
Deputy Harris spoke from just outside the cell. “I’m gonna have to cut this short, Mr. Alexander.”
“I’m conferring with my client.”
“Well, you’re gonna have to come back later,” the deputy said. “I gotta make my morning rounds through town, checkin’ the windows and doors. I can’t leave you in the jail by yourself.”
David turned to face the lawman. “Afraid she’ll escape?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I ain’t takin’ no chances. I’ve seen her kind before,” Harris commented. “Cold-hearted murderess.” He motioned for David to step forward as he turned the key in the lock and swung the heavy iron door open. “You can come back during business hours. A few hours in a jail cell will probably do her good. Help reform her.”
Narrowing his dark gaze at the deputy in a scathing look, David stepped through the opening.
“You’re leavin’ your coat,” Harris pointed out.
David glanced to where his coat lay on the floor next to her cot. “She can keep it.”
“But it’s cold out there. The wind is biting.”
“I don’t have far to go,” David reminded him. “I’ll manage without it for now.”
Even as he said the words, David planned to return. His jacket gave him an excuse. It was foolish, and he knew it, but despite his experience with duplicitous women, David felt drawn to the jail and the exasperating woman locked inside it. The look she’d given him just wasn’t that of a murderess. He was convinced of it. And he knew what it was like to be misjudged.
He paused outside the cell, glancing back at Tessa. She remained seated on the cot, the line of her back impossibly rigid. “Will she be all right?”
“Sure. She’s got the place to herself. For today.”
David suddenly realized the jail was empty except for Tessa Roarke. “Where is everyone?”
Harris chuckled. “We let all the drunks go home before breakfast. Saves the citizens the cost of feedin’ ’em. She won’t have to worry about company until the saloons fill up again. Then I don’t know what we’ll do. Can’t put anybody in with her, and we do lots of business on Friday nights.” There were only three cells in the entire jail.
“I’ll find someplace for her to stay,” David promised.
“How you gonna manage that? She’s a damn murderess.”
“She’s an alleged murderess,” David snapped at the deputy. “And I don’t know how I’ll manage, but I’ll find a place for her to stay.”
The lawman looked skeptical.
David couldn’t blame him. He found it hard to believe his own words. Nothing made sense. He had plenty of cases to keep him busy. Business cases. Deeds, wills, contracts, and land plats were stacked on his desk awaiting attention. They were all clean, uncomplicated, predictable cases. But this…
“Mr. Alexander?” Her soft voice reached him as he opened the door.
“Yes?”
“Can you get me out?” She paused. “Coalie needs me.”
David inhaled deeply. He was crazy to take her on as a client. This whole night had been crazy. David hoped he was still sleeping. If he was lucky, he’d wake up soon and realize this had all been a fascinating dream.
Keep reading Harvest Moon
Book 2 in the Borrowed Brides Series
Buy Harvest Moon
Something Borrowed, Book 3 in the Borrowed Brides Series
Buy Something Borrowed
Twice Blessed: A Borrowed Brides Novella
Buy Twice Blessed: A Borrowed Brides Novella
Golden Chances Page 27