Maureen McKade

by A Dime Novel Hero

  Kit frowned, wondering what Mrs. Jacobs had to do with Preston’s attack. The mousy, brown-haired woman took the stand. She kept her gaze lowered as if afraid to look anyone in the eye.

  “State your name,” Jake said.

  “Henrietta Lolita Jacobs.”

  “Mrs. Jacobs, do you know the defendant Kit Cordell?” Jake asked in a gentle voice.

  She nodded, and smiled shyly at Kit. “I’ve known her since she was a little girl.”

  “Has she ever exhibited the type of behavior Mr. Preston accuses her of?”

  The woman’s eyes saucered. “Heavens, no. She was such a quiet girl, always fixing up hurt animals and helping folks.”

  “Has she ever helped you?”

  “Yes.” Mrs. Jacobs finally raised her head and met Jake’s gaze. “When my youngest was sick, Kit came over every day to tend her.” She glanced at the judge. “My husband had died a few months earlier, and I had six other children to care for.”

  Jake smiled at the woman. “Thank you, Mrs. Jacobs.”

  “Cross examination?” Judge Blair asked the prosecutor.

  He shook his head.

  “You may step down,” the judge said.

  The woman returned to her seat.

  “Next witness.”

  “Defense calls Abraham Zoller,” Jake said.

  Kit frowned. What was Jake doing?

  After the preliminaries, Jake asked. “How do you know the defendant, Mr. Zoller?”

  “She come and helped me with my young’uns after my wife died,” the big overalled man said. “If she hadn’t, I woulda lost my farm.”

  “How’s that?”

  “I wouldn’t have been able to get my crops in.”

  “Do you believe Mr. Preston’s claim that Kit Cordell is not a decent woman?”

  The prosecutor jumped to his feet. “Objection.”

  “Your Honor, he opened this line of questioning by denigrating Mrs. Cordell’s reputation,” Jake argued.

  Judge Blair thought for a moment, then nodded. “Overruled. You may continue, Cordell.”

  After Zoller’s statement of support, he left the stand. Jake continued to called a parade of witnesses to defend Kit’s character. There was Mr. Brown, whose doctor bill she’d paid; Jenny Darling, whom she’d taken to a nearby town to visit her dying sister; and Joseph Landowers, to whom she’d given food and clothing when his cabin had burned down. Astonished by the number of people who’d come forward to testify on her behalf, Kit wondered how Jake had learned of all of them.

  Jake called his next witness. “Defense calls Freda Finster.”

  Holding her head up, Freda took the stand and was sworn in.

  Jake stuck his thumbs in his vest pockets. “When did you meet Kit Cordell, Mrs. Finster?”

  Freda smiled at her. “After my husband died. I was alone and not knowing a soul. Helped me she did, when I had no money or place to go.”

  “How did she help you?”

  “She helped me buy my house and start a bakery.”

  “What did she demand in return?”

  Freda shook her head. “Nothing. Out of the kindness of her heart she did it.”

  “Would you say that Kit has ever behaved indecently?”

  “No.” The single word echoed in the expectant silence. “She is a good woman.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Finster.”

  Freda returned to her chair, giving Kit a quick pat on the shoulder as she passed.

  Embarrassed and touched by the testimonies, Kit kept her teary gaze on Jake. He winked at her and announced the next person.

  “Defense calls the Reverend Wellensiek.”

  “You can’t do that,” Bertie said indignantly.

  Judge Blair pinned her with a sharp gaze. “And why not?”

  Bertie sputtered in protest.

  “That’s enough, Englebertina,” the reverend said firmly to his wife.

  She stared at him as if he’d never spoken to her in that tone before, and Kit doubted the mild-mannered man ever had.

  “How long have you known the defendant, Reverend?” Jake questioned.

  “Twenty-three years. Ever since I came to Chaney.”

  “Does she attend Sunday services regularly?”

  The minister nodded. “More often than most.”

  “Do you think she’s capable of the type of behavior Mr. Preston accuses her of?”

  “Objection,” the prosecutor spoke up. “The question is subjective.”

  Jake arched his dark brow. “On the contrary, the Reverend Wellensiek deals with sinners all the time. I would think he would be an expert at picking one out.”

  A few chuckles greeted his words, and Kit found herself admiring Jake’s quick wit.

  “Overruled,” the judge decided. “Answer the question, Reverend.”

  “Based on my experience, I would have to say Kit Thornton Cordell could not have done what Mr. Preston described.”

  Kit wondered if Bertie had fainted yet.

  “Thank you, Reverend.” Jake glanced at the opposing counsellor. “Would you like to cross-examine?”

  The prosecutor stood. “Reverend Wellensiek, have you ever been wrong?”

  The minister blinked owlishly. “Only God is perfect, but Mrs. Cordell—”

  “Thank you, Reverend,” the prosecutor interrupted.

  “You may step down, Reverend,” Judge Blair said. He glanced at his pocketwatch. “How many witnesses do you have left, Mr. Cordell?”

  Jake grinned. “How many do I need?”

  Blair harrumphed. “I believe you’ve made your point.”

  “Then I have only one more.”

  “In that case, we’ll adjourn for an hour, then come back for the last witness and closing arguments.” Judge Blair pounded his gavel on the table, ending the morning session.

  After he left the room, Kit faced Jake. “How did you find out about all of them?”

  He shrugged, although a boyish pride lit his handsome face. “Freda told me about most of them, and Patrick and Charlie gave me a few more names. A couple of them had to be persuaded to be witnesses, but most of them wanted to help you.” Jake gazed at her, his eyes quizzical. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  She turned away. “Tell you what?”

  “That you’d put Bertie Wellensiek to shame with all the good deeds you’ve done,” he replied. Gently, Jake captured her chin between his thumb and forefinger and raised her head. “I knew you were kind-hearted, but I had no idea how loving and generous. What did I ever do to deserve you, Kit?”

  Tears, which lately seemed ready to flow at the drop of a kind word, rolled down her cheeks. “You were just you, Jake. That was more than enough.”

  Holding Kit’s hand, Jake walked her back to the police station. Patrick followed at a discreet distance until Kit and Jake were in the cell. Leaving them alone, the Irishman returned to the office.

  “Pretty soon it’ll all be over,” Jake said.

  She nodded. “For better or for worse. Even with all the testimonies this morning, it still doesn’t look good, does it?”

  “I’d feel a whole lot better if I could poke some real holes into Preston’s story.” He paused. “Johnny is my last witness.”

  She didn’t want Johnny on the stand, but a part of her had expected Jake would need his eyewitness testimony. “You can’t let him admit to shooting Preston.”

  “It wasn’t my decision.”

  “Yes, it is. Johnny’s too young to make that choice.”

  Jake grasped her shoulders. “I want our son to grow up with a mother. I gave him the choice I never had.” Time-weary pain shimmered in his eyes. “I found a stack of letters in your desk.”

  Kit frowned. “What letters?”

  “They were in the same drawer as my father’s gun.”

  She nodded, remembering tossing them in there the night of the shooting. “They must’ve been in the gun case. I’d never seen them before.”

  Jake swallowed. “They were let
ters from my mother addressed to me. My father must’ve gotten them and hid them.”

  Sympathy tugged at her heart, and she asked softly, “What did they say?”

  “You were right, Kit. She never stopped loving me.”

  “I’d wondered how she could’ve abandoned her own child.”

  “I wrote her a long letter last night I hope she’s still alive to get it.”

  “I wonder why your father didn’t just throw the letters away?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe deep down he wanted me to have them someday. I know now that he loved me—he just didn’t know how to tell me.”

  Kit hugged him. “No matter what happens, I’ll always love you and Johnny,” she whispered, in a voice filled with unshed tears.

  He smiled. “I’ve been waiting for you to say those words again. I love you, Kit.”

  In spite of her uncertain future, she savored a peaceful contentment. Even if she had no more time with Jake, she would always remember this moment.

  Kit barely picked at her lunch, both fearful and anxious to see her son for the first time in four days. It was longer than they’d ever been apart. Returning to the courtroom, she couldn’t sit still in her chair. She swiveled around, looking for Johnny.

  “Freda will bring him in when I call his name,” Jake whispered.

  Disappointment welled in Kit. She’d wanted to hug him and talk to him before he got up on the stand. Forcing herself to relax, she eased back in her seat. Judge Blair entered, and Kit stood, then resumed her place.

  Jake remained standing, and he unbuttoned his suit coat. “Defense calls Johnny Cordell.”

  Her heart hammering in her throat, Kit saw the door at the back open and Johnny entered, holding Freda’s hand. He looked neither right nor left as he walked down the aisle. Kit spied his black-and-blue eye and nearly cried aloud. She looked over at Preston, her hatred so strong she could taste it.

  Johnny finally looked around, and his face beamed when he spotted her. He made a move toward her, then he glanced at Jake, who seemed to send him a silent message. Licking his lips, Johnny continued up to the front. He appeared small and vulnerable in the large chair, and Kit ached to reassure him.

  “Do you know what we’re here for?” Jake asked his son.

  He swung his feet back and forth a few inches above the floor. “Ma’s trial.”

  “Do you understand that you have to answer truth-fully, no matter how much it might hurt?”

  He bobbed his head up and down.

  “Can you tell everyone here your name?”

  “Jonathan Jacob Cordell the third,” he replied proudly.

  A few gasps and murmurings sounded from the audience. One glare from the judge and the exclamations ceased.

  Jake stood close to Johnny. “Can you tell us what happened the day Mr. Preston came to visit?”

  “Me and Ma let Jasper go.” He looked at the judge. “Jasper’s a raccoon. He got hurt and we fixed him.”

  Blair smiled.

  “Go on, Johnny,” Jake urged gently.

  “Well, after that, I played with Toby, my dog.”

  “Where was your mother?”

  “She was on the porch cleaning potatoes and watching us.”

  “Is that when Mr. Preston showed up?”

  Johnny nodded, squirming on the wide seat. “He and Ma talked for a few minutes and then I guess they went in the house, because when I looked again, they were gone. I stayed outside for a little while, but I got hungry so I went in to find Ma.”

  “Was she in the kitchen?”

  “No. I yelled, but she didn’t answer, so I went looking for her.” He paused, and swallowed, his Adam’s apple sliding up and down.

  “Where did you find her?” Jake asked, in a voice so quiet Kit could barely hear it.

  “She was in her bedroom, with Mr. Preston.” Johnny lifted his accusing gaze to the reporter who stared back at him without a hint of emotion. “He was hurting her.”

  “How do you know he was hurting her?”

  Kit leaned forward, planting her elbows on the table, and pressing her fisted hands against her mouth. She didn’t want him to have to relive the horrible scene. How could Jake make him do this?

  Johnny licked his lips nervously. “I opened the door and saw Ma on the floor crying. She told me to go downstairs.”

  “Did you?” Jake prompted gently.

  “No. Then Mr. Preston grabbed me, and Ma hit him, trying to make him let me go. He got mad at her and pulled her hair.” His eyes filled with tears. “I jumped on him and bit his leg, but he hit me.”

  The saloon had grown hushed with expectancy.

  “Is that how you got your black eye?”

  Johnny nodded, and a tear spilled down his pale cheek. “He was too big. I couldn’t stop him.”

  Kit closed her eyes, fighting her own tears.

  “So what did you do then?” Jake asked.

  Kit’s eyelids flew open, and she leapt to her feet. “Stop it! Leave him alone. He’s only a child.”

  Jake laid a hand on Johnny’s shoulder and gazed at Kit. “I let him make the decision. He wants his mother to come home.”

  The raw pain in Jake’s eyes staggered Kit. She stumbled back and sank into her chair. How could she blame him? How could she deny Johnny his decision to protect her, when she’d done the same for him?

  “Tell us what happened then, Johnny.”

  The boy drew his forearm across his damp face. “Ma told me to run. I went and got my grandpa’s gun from Ma’s desk.”

  “Had you ever shot a gun before?”

  Johnny shook his head. “Ma didn’t want me to until I was older. She said guns weren’t toys. That they hurt people.”

  “Your mother’s a smart woman,” the judge approved.

  “I put some bullets into it and went back to Ma’s room.” He looked at Jake. “I was scared, but you told me to take care of her. I heard her scream and went inside.” Johnny pointed a finger at Preston. “He was on top of her on the bed. She was crying and trying to get away. He had his hands around her neck and her shirt was ripped. I told him to stop, but he just laughed at me.”

  Silence stretched out in the courtroom. A man coughed and another person shifted their feet. A fly buzzed, resounding in the eerie quiet.

  “And what did you do?” Jake asked, his voice barely a whisper.

  “I pulled the trigger.” A tortured sob racked his small body. “I didn’t want to, but he was hurting my ma. He’s a bad man!” He stumbled out of the witness chair and ran over to Kit.

  She enfolded him in her arms, tears running down her face as he cried on her shoulder.

  A movement beside her made Kit glance up, and she saw Jake standing by them.

  “You raised Johnny to tell the truth, Kit, and that’s what he wanted to do. You can’t blame him for doing the right thing. He takes after you.”

  Her throat closed, and she could only nod in return. As Johnny clung to her, Kit settled him on her lap, wrapping her arms tightly around him.

  Jake moved to the center of the room. “Defense would like to call David Preston to the stand for further cross examination.”

  The newspaperman’s pale face matched his white sling, and hatred glittered in his eyes. With shuffling footsteps he walked to the witness chair.

  “Did you attack Kit Cordell?”

  He flushed. “As I stated before, no, I did not.”

  Jake leaned close to him. “I want to remind you that you are still under oath.”

  “I am aware of that.” His brittle tone echoed in the hushed courtroom.

  “Are you saying Johnny Cordell’s testimony is a lie?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did Johnny bite you?”

  Preston’s bloodless lips thinned. “No.”

  “May we see your legs, Mr. Preston?”

  “Objection,” the prosecutor called out.

  “Johnny says he bit Mr. Preston’s leg. Mr. Preston said he did not. If we’re to determine who�
�s lying and who’s telling the truth, we need to see the proof,” Jake argued.

  “Objection overruled,” Judge Blair said. He looked at Johnny. “Show us which leg you bit, son.”

  Kit lifted him off her lap. “Go ahead, Johnny. Your father won’t let him hurt you.”

  Reluctantly, he shuffled over to Jake. Holding her breath, Kit watched her son point to Preston’s left leg.

  “Raise that pants leg, Mr. Preston,” the judge ordered.

  “There’s ladies in the room,” Preston argued.

  Blair sighed. “Ladies, if the sight of a man’s leg will shock you, please close your eyes.”

  Kit kept hers wide open as Preston lifted the hem of his trousers a few inches.

  “I bit his knee,” Johnny said.

  “Higher, Mr. Preston,” Blair commanded.

  As the material was raised, a bruise came into view, a black and blue ring with obvious teeth marks. Voices buzzed, and Preston glared at the boy.

  Jake kept his arm around Johnny. “In light of this new evidence and the fact that Preston has obviously lied, I move that the charges against Kit Cordell be dropped.”

  Judge Blair nodded without hesitation. “I agree. Sergeant O’Hara, place Mr. Preston under arrest for assault.”

  “And attempted murder,” Jake added. Blair sent him a questioning look. “Of me, Your Honor.”

  A smile flitted on the judge’s stern lips. “You heard Counsellor Cordell—assault and attempted murder.”

  “He also killed my horse,” Jake added grimly.

  “Add destruction of personal property, Sergeant,” Judge Blair said.

  “Yes, sir, Your Honor,” Patrick replied with a grin. “With pleasure.”

  Kit collapsed in her chair. Jake had done it—her hero had saved her again!

  Patrick came forward and escorted Preston out of the noisy courtroom. As the newspaperman passed Kit, he sent her a look brimming with virulence. No longer afraid, she held his gaze until he looked away.

  Judge Blair banged the gavel on the table. “Case dismissed. Court is adjourned.”

  Jake and Johnny rushed over to Kit, who stood and opened her arms wide to receive their embraces. Jake wrapped his arms around her, hugging her with Johnny caught between them. Tears flowed down Kit’s face, making everything a blur.