"Thanks to her." Luther threw Kendall a murderous glance.
"Our quarrel's not with you, Matt. It's with your wife. She landed our baby brother in jail."
"Your baby brother landed himself in jail when he shoplifted those CDs. That aside, if you ever touch my wife again, I'll slit your throat."
"Matt, please." Kendall limped toward them.
The ruckus had drawn a crowd. The doorways were clogged with courthouse employees who had rushed from their offices to see what all the commotion was about. Kendall didn't want an audience witnessing her disgrace. If word got around that her husband had come to her rescue, it would damage her credibility and jeopardize the respect she had worked so hard to gain. Naysayers would have support for their argument that a woman can't handle a tough job.
She touched Matt's arm and looked at him imploringly.
"This is my arena. I'll fight my own fight." She could tell he didn't like it and was about to object. "I must take care of this myself, Matt. Please."
He shot the Crook brothers a silent warning glance, then stepped aside.
Kendall approached them. "If you will recall, I cautioned you that there were risks to pleading guilty." She shook her head remorsefully. "Believe me, I'm as shocked and disappointed as you."
"Like hell you are."
Kendall turned at the sound of a new voice, which was about as soft and delicate as steel wool.
Unlike her slender offspring, Mrs. Crook was a large woman, her bulk consisting more of muscle than fat. She wore a shapeless, ill-fitting cotton print dress and had velour bedroom slippers on her wide, gnarled feet. Hard living had carved deep lines into her leathery complexion. Crevices radiated from her thin lips, as though they'd been pursed for several decades.
"I'm very sorry, Mrs. Crook," Kendall said. "It didn't go as I had expected."
"On account of you, my baby is being sent off."
"It's temporary. Billy Joe hasn't been in serious trouble before. The recommendation that comes back will surely be for probation. And although the judge doesn't have to abide by the recommendation, I'm certain he will."
"Like you were certain 'bout this?" she asked scornfully.
Her eyes narrowed with malice. "You're gonna be real sorry you ever crossed us."
Looking beyond Kendall's shoulder, she signaled her sons.
Obediently, they moved into place on either side of her, then without another word the three made their way up the center aisle to the exit. The onlookers parted to let them pass.
With a sinking heart, Kendall watched them go, knowing that she had made enemies this morning. People such as the Crooks rarely forgot slights.
And they never forgave.
Burnwood's Sporting Goods was twenty minutes away from closing when Daboey Gorn sauntered in. Gibb subtly raised his chin in greeting, but he stayed with the fisherman to whom he was selling a lure.
After ringing up a hefty sale, Gibb escorted his customer out, locked the door behind the man, and placed the Closed sign in the window. Turning out lights as he went through the store, he joined his visitor, who had made himself at home in the back room.
The prosecutor was thumbing through a firearms catalog as he spat tobacco into the three-gallon coffee can left in the back room for that purpose. "That one was a talker. Bent your ear long enough, didn't he?"
"It was worthwhile. He ran up quite a tab." Gibb lowered himself into the comfortably worn easy chair facing the one in which Gorn was lounging. He twisted the cap off a diet soda. "Drink?"
"Already had me one, thanks." Gorn belched, spat again.
then sat forward, slowly rubbing his palms together. "Gibb, you heard what happened over to the courthouse this after noon?"
"Matt called me, very upset. Justifiably so, if it's true that my daughter-in-law butted heads with everybody o ver that Crook boy."
The prosecutor gave Gibb a word-by-word, blow-by-blow account of the incident. Looking troubled, he said, "I realize she's your kin now, but she hasn't been all that long. On the other hand, you and I go way back."
The men silently acknowledged the special bond between them. It was much stronger than blood ties and longer lasting than life itself.
"What's on your mind, Daboey? You know you can speak freely."
"This girl worries me," he said.
She worried Gibb, too, but he didn't want to admit it before hearing what Gorn had to say. A great leader knows the value of holding his own counsel and listening. He doesn't reveal what he's thinking until he knows the minds of those around him.
"How so, Daboey?"
"Do you reckon she's ever going to become one of us, Gibb?
Really one of us?" He shifted in his chair, moving closer to the edge of the cushion as if to assure confidentiality.
"Prosper needed a public defender who would . . . share our views, so to speak," Gorn continued. "We all figured a little thing like her would be a pushover. After that business in Tennessee, we didn't expect her to have a conscience. If you recall, that's the main reason she was hired."
He spat another glob into the coffee can and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "She's tougher than we counted on, more committed to her beliefs. She's also more scrupulous than we bargained on. She opposes us more regular than we'd like. Some of us are beginning to think we made a mistake."
Kendall's strict adherence to lofty principles had come as a surprise to Gibb, too. So had her willfulness. He had thought the girl would be much more flexible and far less outspoken.
He was convinced that, after time, she would come around.
It would just take longer than they had anticipated. That's what he told Gorn.
But his old friend's doubts were not assuaged. "She doesn't fit in with the other women."
"Not yet, but she will. You leave her to Matt and me. Just the other day, he told me that she's been feeling a little left out. Maybe the answer to this problem is to start including her more."
Dabney Gorn showed his astonishment. "Do you think that's wise?"
Chuckling, Gibb said, "Relax. I'm not a fool. She won't be included on anything important until we're convinced that she's in total agreement with us."
"And you really believe she will be?"
"Yes," Gibb replied without hesitation. "She's still steeped in the liberal swill she was reared with. Her grandmother can't live forever. Once she's dead, her influence over Kendall will wear off."
"What if it doesn't?"
"It will," Gibb said sharply. Then, ameliorating his tone with a broad smile, he said, "But these transitions can't be rushed, Daboey. We must move slowly. We can't hit this girl over the head with everything at once. She's too reactionary."
He squeezed his open hand into a fist, and his eyes shone in the dim room. "But think of the asset she'll be once she's entirely Ours. Leave it to me. I know exactly how to handle her."
He stood and drew his friend up. "In fact, if you don't get out of here. I m going to be late. She's invited me to supper."
At the door, Gorn faced him, still looking worried, but for a different reason "I hope you haven't taken this the wrong way, Gibb the brothers trust you. Always have."
"Then the brothers have nothing to worry about, do they?"
"It was a very chivalrous gesture, Matt, but I had to stand on my own." Kendall reached across the dining table and took his hand, giving it a firm squeeze.
He didn't return her peacemaking smile. "You emasculated me in front of everyone., "Oh, please!"
"Well, didn't you? I was publicly humiliated."
She turned to Gibb and said defensively, "It was nothing like that."
"Sounds as though you all created quite a spectacle."
"It wasn't nearly as Sensational as Matt is making it sound."
"Damn, I thought it was sensational."
"You've spoked to him about this?"
Gibb nodded. ' He came to the store late this afternoon and told me his version."
"Which I'm sure mad
e me out the villainess." Kendall angrily Shoved back her chair and left the table. She had hoped that inviting Gibb over for a hamburger dinner would placate Matt, whose pride had been mortally wounded because she hadn't let him defend her.
Instead, she had stacked the deck against herself. She was outnumbered. Gibb hadn't said anything critical, but she read the siren' reprimand in hiis expression.
"It wasn't as much of ;a spectacle as it would have been if Matt and the Crooks had gotten into a fistfight."
Addressing her husband, she added, "I wasn't trying to embarrass you, Matt. I was trying to avoid a disaster."
He continued to pout.
Gibb said, "I can't say I was happy to hear that my son and daughter-in-law were tangling with white trash like the Crooks, for whatever reason."
"They're Kendall's friends, not mine," Matt muttered. I Kendall braced herself against the sideboard and slowly counted to ten. When she was calm enough to speak, she said, "They're not my Orient, Matt. Billy Joe was my client.
According to the Constitution of the United States, everyone, including Billy Joe Crook, is entitled to legal representation.
If I'm not wrong, Prosper still abides by the Constitution.
Granted, my clients are rarely the creme de la creme of our society."
"Well, I don't like it. You're rubbing elbows with lowlife day in, day out."
"I'm doing my job!"
Gibb interceded. "I think the main problem here is the matter of divided loyalties. Kendall, you took the Crooks' side against your own husband's, and everybody saw it."
She gaped at him, disbelieving that he could be serious, although it was obvious that he was. "You're blowing this way out of proportion. Both of you."
"You're probably right," Gibb said congenially. "I'd like to prevent this kind of misunderstanding from ever cropping up again. And I think I've thought of a way. Please."
He indicated Kendall's empty chair. Reluctantly she re turned to it.
Like Matt, Gibb didn't let her argue her position, but rather dismissed it out of hand.
"For quite a while I've been knocking around an idea,"
Gibb began. "Now seems like an excellent time to bring it up. Kendall, have you ever thought of going back into private practice?"
"No."
"Maybe you should."
"I don't want to join another competitive, cutthroat firm, where as much energy is expended on making rank as on practicing law."
"What if it weren't so cutthroat?" Gibb said. "What if there weren't any competition? What if I were to set you up in your own office? I'd foot the bills until you got things going."
She hadn't expected that, and for a moment she was too astonished to speak. She knew that she had to decline graciously and diplomatically, and when she was able, she said, "That's an extremely generous offer, Gibb. Thank you. But I'd never be able to repay you. I'd never have enough clients to make a living."
"I have every confidence in you."
"I don't lack confidence in myself. I lack confidence in the townsfolk. I wouldn't describe the attitudes in Prosper as progressive, would you?" she asked with a rueful smile.
"The Crooks wouldn't have had me representing Billy Joe if they'd had another choice. Who around here is going to retain me, a woman, and entrust me with their legal problems? "
you wouldn't have to have a large clientele," Gibb argued.
For the first time that evening, Matt showed some animation. "That's right, darling. We could direct some business your way."
"I don't want that, Matt. I would be a laughingstock Gibbs daughter-in-law, Matt's wife, dressing up every morning and playing lawyer." She gave a firm shake of her head.
"Thank you, but no."
"It's your decision, of course," Gibb said with a disappointed sigh.
"Although I think your talents are wasted in public service."
He had no idea how offensive that remark was to her.
"Wasted, Gibb? I don't think so. You see, the sexism and competitive spirit at Bristol and Mathers were only part of the reason I was eager to disassociate myself.
"Up to now, I haven't shared this with anyone except Ricki Sue and Grandmother, but I'll tell you because it might help you understand why I've focused my career on public defense."
She stood up and paced while she talked. "A woman came to the offices of Bristol and Mathers seeking my help. She had AIDS. Her husband had infected her with the virus, then abandoned her and their three children. Her health declined.
When she could no longer work to support herself or her children, the state took custody of them and placed them in foster homes.
"After six months, she was desperate to see them, but her repeated requests to do so were denied. Her desperation led her to enter the state-agency office with a pistol, saying she would see her children or else. She was arrested. The pistol wasn't even loaded, but that was a technicality.
"She raised bail and was released. Unhappy with the lawyer assigned to her case, she came to me. I was instantly sympathetic with her plight. Yes, she had committed a crime, but the mitigating circumstances were compelling. To my mind, the law and justice were in conflict in this case. Here was a woman who wished only to see her children one last time before she died. I agreed to represent her."
She drew a deep breath to quell the anger that rose inside her each time she thought of her summons into the partners' conference room. "They were horrified. The woman had been arrested at the scene of her crime. What possible hope did I have of winning an acquittal? And did the firm really want any involvement with an AIDS patient? The implied answer was a r esounding no!"
"Furthermore and this was the real deciding factor there was no money involved. The woman had limited resources, and the firm's hourly rate was considerable. How was Bristol and Mathers to profit if it willingly handled charity cases? If the firm took one, word would get out and the associates would be besieged by freeloaders. I was summarily ordered to drop the case.
"If I'd had the gumption, I would have resigned right then.
But I needed the job, and Bristol and Mathers was the most respected firm in Sheridan. So I stayed until I heard about this job in South Carolina. I thought that here, I could work toward seeing justice served without worrying about how much profit it might cost my firm. I love the law. And I hold to this outdated, outmoded belief that it was instituted for the People, not the lawyers.
"By the way, the woman died before her case was brought to trial. She died without seeing her children again. Every time I lose a case, I take it personally. It's as though I've let her down again."
After a moment of silence, Gibb said softly, "A touching story, Kendall. But you mustn't feel that you've failed because H.W. sent Billy Joe off to Columbia."
"Under the circumstances, it was unnecessary. His offense didn't warrant it."
"Well, I'm just a dumb sporting goods salesman. I wouldn't presume to know how H.W. arrived at his decision," Gibb said. "He's human just like the rest of us. Naturally you're disappointed, but his ruling isn't a poor reflection on your abilities. You did your best. That's all anyone expects of you."
She had needed to hear that. Heartened, she smiled.
"Thanks for the support, Gibb."
"Dad's a wizard when it comes to putting things in perspective. He's always right."
Kendall moved up behind Matt and laid her hands on his shoulders. "I need a friend. Are we still friends?"
He angled his head back. "What do you think?"
She leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Thank you for coming to my rescue. I saw a dashing and dangerous side of you I'd never seen before. I'm sorry if I gave you the impression that I didn't appreciate your heroic gesture." -:
"You're forgiven." They kissed, then he folded her hands over his chest and held them there. "Dad, should we tell her the surprise in store for this weekend?" :, "Surprise?" She clutched the concept with both hands.
It had been a terrible day. Tomorrow wou
ldn't be much better,- because news of her defeat would have spread. Everyone would be talking about it. Bama, the panhandler, had already : heard of it by the time she left the courthouse that afternoon.
"Too bad, Counselor," he'd said. "You'll win next time."
His thumbs-up sign did little to boost her spirits. In fact, his destitution had only depressed her more.
In her heart of hearts, she knew she had done her best.
Nevertheless, she didn't take defeat well. Losing always made her feel that she was disappointing those who had placed their confidence in her her clients, their families, her grand mother, even her dead parents.
Today had been a bitter defeat, but it was behind her. She would mark the Crook case up to experience and look forward to the next. She would try harder. Work smarter. She was determined to succeed.
Filled with resolve, her mood began to lift. A relaxing weekend sounded wonderful. "What have you two got planned?" she asked.
"Matt tells me that you've been hounding him to go along on one of our outdoor excursions."
"I wouldn't use the word hounding," she said coyly.
"How about nagging, pestering, or harassing?"
Playfully, she socked Matt in the gut, and he gave an exaggerated grunt of pain.
Pleased that family harmony had been restored, Gibb smiled at them indulgently. "Do you want to hear this or not?"
Kendall pulled a sober face. "I want to hear it."
"This Saturday there'll be a full moon."
She envisioned a candlelight dinner at a cozy guest house in the mountains, or a moonlight boat ride on the lake.
"The full moon in November can only mean one thing," Matt said, raising her expectations even higher.
"What?" she asked breathlessly.
"Hog slaughtering."
Gibb arrived before sunlight, eager to go. Kendall was hustled out into the frosty morning air. Their breath formed clouds of vapor as they walked to Gibb's pickup truck and climbed :' into the cab. She shivered inside her coat and tucked her gloved hands in her armpits in an attempt to warm them.
Matt hugged her close. "Cold?"
"A little. But I'll warm up." She had asked for this; she had wanted to be included. She wouldn't be a complainer.
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