Only seconds passed that the aroma of spice neared and she felt Jack lift her into his broad, muscular arms. She overheard a man offer his buckboard carriage wagon to him, and Jack placed her in the seat next to himself.
“Go on and get,” the older gentleman’s voice said. “Take care of the poor, dear widow. I’ll fetch the carriage later.”
“The shows over,” she heard Jack chuckle after they rode a short distance.
“How did I do?” she asked, excitedly, and raised her head from its previously slumped position.
“I think it worked,” he smiled. “Even the preacher’s wife showed her concern for you.”
“And what of the jurymen?” she asked. “Did they take notice too?”
Jack shrugged and looked hesitant. “They appeared mighty somber and didn’t look overly affected.”
“Well,” she sighed, “We’ll know for sure in a couple days when the trial begins. As rumors have caused their hatred for me to begin with, perhaps enough people will find me in better favor and it’ll work in reverse.”
“Are you ready for the trial?” he asked.
“I believe so. Jonathon has given his very best on it. He’s filed, argued, and disputed each pretrial motion with vigor. If he can convince the jury that Peter died of natural causes, all should be well.”
Jack slowed the horses until they completely stopped. He turned around and looked at her and worry shadowed over his eyes. “No, are you ready for it, Eloda?”
Eloda nodded. “I believe I am. I just want to have it over with, Jack” she said woefully. “Even if it comes to them finding me guilty, I just want to put this behind me.”
She supposed she sounded convincing enough when Jack turned around and steered the horses forward again. But she wasn’t truthful. She was deathly afraid for the trial to begin. Scared of being found guilty and hanged, and afraid that if she was, Jack would forever believe she was a cold blooded murderess. The latter left her more in a state of sadness than the former.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“She is testifying for the prosecution,” Jack informed her. “Jonathon is busy at court trying to preclude her testimony, but he wanted me to let you know what was happening.”
“Why would she do that?” Eloda asked, shocked. “I stopped my husband from raping her and faced a trial for my effort. I could have been hanged for what I did for her.”
“The prosecution has called her in and convinced her otherwise,” he bit out and squeezed the bars tightly in his fist. “They said that they are reconsidering Mister Shultz’s case and it’s their intention to arrest her as a co-conspirator for his death.”
“And if she changes her testimony about the events of my third husband’s death, they’ll give her amnesty?” Eloda knew that was the prosecution’s underhanded purpose. The previous three days of trial had gone by uneventful and somewhat hopeful for her, but now all of that had changed. She shook her head and paced her cell like a caged tiger. “If she testifies to their lies, it’s all over, Jack,” she muttered, and her voice was full of raw emotion and her body trembled.
Jack unlocked her cell and stepped inside. He pulled her into her arms, and despite the effort she made in remaining calm, she fell apart. Tears flowed down her cheeks, streamed over the crook of his neck, and dampened the tips of his ebony hair and shirt. She quivered like a frightened child and clung to him, overwhelmed by her sentiments of bleakness and betrayal. He clasped his hands on either side of her face and drew her lips to his and kissed Eloda hard and long. Comforting words were whispered onto her lips, and since they came from him, she believed his earnest pleads of preserving hope. Her pain and fear slowly decreased with each kiss and caress he placed upon her.
He gently pushed her back and stared into her eyes. There was such purity within his gaze that Eloda felt that any fragment of a blackened soul within her had been whitened and renewed.
“I’ll never allow them to hang you,” he promised. “This isn’t justice; this is a mockery of what I have always upheld as sacred. I’ll not see you taken by it,” he asserted, and she felt every muscle tense within his body.
“This town will do as they will, Jack. You’re only one man. A good one at that, but you’ll not be able to stop them.” Eloda stroked his cheek. She gathered all the strength she could muster and smiled.
They turned when the door opened and Jonathon entered. The brutal and disgraceful mob that formed higher numbers as each day passed, shouted their harsh remarks toward Eloda upon him opening the door. Eloda wondered how much longer it’d be before their hurtful words escalated into violence.
Jonathon’s dark hair was laid unruly on his head and his eyes were shaded as if he hadn’t slept in days. He removed his coat and his gray suit beneath was disheveled upon his person.
“You look terrible,” Eloda said. “You must go home and get some rest, Jonathon.” Eloda had seen him look that way before, right before he was committed to the state hospital. The enormity of the trial weighted too heavily on his shoulders and she couldn’t help but worry what impact it may have on the outcome for them both.
“No time for that,” he said, and Jonathon waved her off with a shaky hand. He walked toward her and handed her a piece of paper. “This is Ellen’s new statement about the events that happened the night Shultz died.”
“Other than her account of how I killed him, it’s all lies,” she said after she perused the letter. “What I testified to eight years ago was exactly what happened. I walked in on them and he was beating and raping her. I saw no alternative but to kill him, so I reached for the fire poker and stabbed him.”
Jonathon nodded his head and the sincerity on his face relayed that he believed her.
“They have her against the wall, Eloda,” Jonathon said. “She married last year and has recently given birth to a child.”
“I know,” Eloda softly whispered. “I’m sure she is scared. With the gallows looming and ready in the courtyard, I am certain she will not deny them any request.”
“What if I go and talk to her,” Jack offered to Jonathon. “Do you think it may help?”
“I doubt it,” he said and shook his head. He turned to Eloda. “She wanted me to tell you that she is forever in your debt for saving her that night, but she must stay loyal to her family, and that is by staying alive. She begged for your understanding and forgiveness.”
“Please, let her know I understand. Tell her I hold no resentment toward her. I don’t want her burdened by guilt if they should hang me. It’s not her fault.”
“We are getting her the hell out of here tonight,” Jack exclaimed to Jonathon. “We’ll say she escaped.”
“I considered that as well, Jack.” Jonathon frowned. “They’re ready for that. Frank has been shooting his mouth about something going on between the two of you, so they have men watching this place in the event you go soft and let her go. She steps one foot out of here without just reason, you’ll give them a justified reason to kill her.”
“And what of the trial?” she asked. “Do you think it will conclude tomorrow?”
“I don’t suspect Ellen’s testimony will take long. Not much I can do in her cross examination other than to counter with her previous statement from your original trial. After that, we will do our closing statements and it’ll probably go to the jury by evening.”
“And if they choose to hang me?”
“I’ll be honest; this town will not wait for an appeal.” He closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, Eloda.”
Eloda gasped and her hand inadvertently went to her neck. “Will they hang me tomorrow?” she asked frightened. Jack embraced her from behind and drew Eloda against him.
“It all depends on the town and their reaction to the verdict,” he said, and he brushed an unsteady hand through his hair. “I think we can all agree that in light of Ellen’s testimony, they will not be in favor of an acquittal.”
Eloda breathed in deep and blew out her apprehensions. She stepped away from Jack and s
moothed her hand over her hair. She faced them both, and after a few breaths to calm her nerves, she forced a smile. “Then, I must get my affairs in order.”
“Eloda,” Jack began, but she raised her hand and stopped his protest.
“As I stated before, I’ll not go out struggling. You must allow me to do what I need to at this time, Jack. I want peace of mind at the end.”
Jack fisted his hands at his sides and she knew his anger stemmed from his helplessness. He moved toward his desk, defeated. Sitting in his chair, he hid his face in his palms for several moments until he rose from his seat and slammed his fists atop his desk. With great anguish, he cursed the profession he regarded with respect and honor his entire life.
“I’ll help you with whatever you need arranged,” he said, quietly. He looked at her and she saw deep determination that glistened in his eyes before he added, “But I will find a way to get you safely out of here.”
“I will also try to think of a way we can accomplish that,” Jonathon said as he made his way to the door. He looked at Jack and Eloda and sighed heavily. “But don’t put too much stake in thinking it’s going to happen. It’s an undertaking that will be near to impossible to achieve.” He looked at Eloda and attempted a consolatory smile but failed miserably. He opened his mouth but words didn’t form, so Jonathon lowered his head, tipped his hat, and left.
“I need to write a will,” Eloda said and walked into her cell. She picked up her paintbrush and began to paint. “I’d kindly appreciate it if you’d write out my wishes as I speak them.”
Jack stared at her for a few moments before he reluctantly reached for paper and the metal nib that sat atop his desk. He poised his hand over the paper and waited for her to speak.
“I’d like most of the estate—my home, land, cash, chattels, livestock, all of it—to go to Andy Simmons,” she said. Jack didn’t hide his surprise and she smiled. “He and I have both been turned away from the people in this town. Unlike him, I have always had my money to gain a minimal amount of respect. But Andy hasn’t had that luxury. Being poor, he will never be allowed to overcome his label as The Bastard without a stroke of good fortune. I believe this may afford him a chance to leave this town and start a new life.”
She dabbed her brush into her paint and began painting again. “There’s an account at the Caroline County Bank,” she continued. “It has all the funds I received from my first husband’s estate. It’s rightfully Jonathon’s and I’d like for him to have it,” she said. “I married Mister McKimble soon after his father’s death and found no need to use it. So it’s all there.” She lowered her head and shame washed over her. “I should have seen to it years ago that Jonathon received it.”
“Jonathon relayed to me how he treated you at the time of his father’s death, Eloda. I’m sure he’ll be more than understanding why you waited until now.”
“Lastly,” she said. “There’s an account at the bank that I use towards contributions of worthy causes. It’s quite substantial and I’d like you to have it.”
“I think you know better than my willingness to profit by something such as this. I don’t want it,” he said flat out, and Jack left her no room for discussion.
“I suspected as much,” she smiled. “But I am asking you to take it just the same. If you choose not to use it, then place it elsewhere as you see fit. Perhaps a new, updated jailhouse with indoor plumbing,” she grinned. He didn’t reply and she returned her attention back to her canvas. “I think that’s all, I suppose,” she finally said. “Except this,” she added, and Eloda pointed toward her painting that she had tirelessly worked on since she arrived. “Will you see to it that Andy receives this once I’m gone?”
Jack penned the last few words onto her last testament and looked at her. Sadness swept over his usual pleasant face and he nodded his reply. In slow, hesitant steps, he walked to Eloda and she placed her signature onto the papers.
“You can have Frank and Jonathon witness it the next time they’re here,” he added.
“There, it’s done,” she said and Jack returned to his desk.
Eloda watched him from the corner of her eye. He had sat back, pitched his hat over his eyes, and rested his feet onto his desk. Anyone else would have thought he was asleep, but Eloda knew better. He was thinking of a way for her to escape the noose.
Her thoughts drifted back to their earlier kiss. That kiss had made it possible for her to draw strength and see the ordeal through until the end. Not only had he shown her more affection than she thought possible, but in her heart, she truly believed that he thought her innocent. And that meant more to her than receiving a not guilty verdict from the jurymen.
Jack’s feet stepped heavily on the floor when he quickly approached her. “Frank has already run his mouth to the town about us,” he said, and Jack walked into her cell. “We can ride that out and tell them that it’s true.”
“What could that possibly accomplish?” she asked and lowered her brush onto a tin lid that she used as a makeshift palette.
“We’ll tell them that’s there’s a great possibility that you are with child.”
Eloda shook her head and presented him a warm, sincere smile for his effort.
“It can delay this,” Jack pressed. “It will afford you the time needed for an appeal if they find you guilty. They’ll not hang you if they think they are killing a child as well.”
“And when it becomes obvious I am not with child, they will hang me just the same and you will be left with a tattered reputation as a lawman, Jack.” The side of her palm caressed his cheek and she felt tears within her eyes that threatened release by his sacrifice. “I’ll not let you do that.”
“I don’t care about being a lawman. Not anymore,” he declared, and with the intensity that flared within his eyes, she almost believed him.
“You cannot let this town break you.” Both her hands cupped over his cheeks and she forced him to look at her. “It’s too late for me. I am accepting that, and now you have to as well.”
Jack reached up and pulled her hands into his and he stared down at her, but when he started to speak, she placed her finger to his lips and hushed him.
“You need to stay honorable to your badge, Jack. If you let them pull you into doing what is wrong, they win. Instead, learn from this and make sure they never again do it to anyone else. You are a good man, Jack. I can’t leave this life in peace if you turn your back on what’s true and righteous on my account.”
“And I’ll not allow you to leave this life without knowing I have done all I can do to stop them,” he countered. “To Hell with my badge.”
Pushing him softly away, Eloda turned away from him and returned to her painting. Tears trickled from her eyes when she realized that she was probably the worst thing that ever happened to Sheriff Jack Finley.
CHAPTER NINE
Evening brought another night that she and Jack rested in their separate cots within the darkened jailhouse. As he had done all day, Jack sat and thought about how he could change what fate had already decided.
“Please, Jack, get some rest,” Eloda quietly urged from her cell. “Tomorrow may bring a better day. Jonathon has yet to argue my case.”
She heard him stir and after a few moments, the soft steps of his bare feet came closer towards her until he stood inside her cell. He stood there nearly naked, less his brown trousers that sat loosely off his hips. As if he’d been there one hundred times before, Jack removed his trousers, raised her wool cover, laid aside her, and gathered her into his arms. With Jack’s guidance, she removed her chemise and they laid there together, their naked bodies tenderly entwined.
Nuzzling her cheek against his chest, she breathed in the sweet spicy aroma of him that offered sensations of being home within his arms. Her hands freely roamed across his smooth skin and every sensation within her body heightened to depths beyond what she had ever felt before. And when he stroked her in return—her neck, breasts, stomach, and finally gliding his hands do
wn between her thighs, she exploded with passion. A spark from within her had been ignited, and the woman who once found a man’s touch repulsive, discovered herself murmuring words that pleaded for more. He captured her mouth into his and his tongue tantalized her with every swirl that explored her mouth. Seeking out his body with her hands, she stroked him with feathery touches that deepened into daring clutches. It sent pleasurable moans from within him. She hoped to expose new feelings within him as well as herself, and she succeeded on both accounts. Growing bolder by each moment passed, she straddled him and her hair flowed freely upon his chest. The heat within her grew to such intensity that she was sure she’d die if he wasn’t inside her. She stared into his eyes and saw a hunger that expressed his need for her was just as profound as hers for him. The emptiness she longed to have fulfilled was satisfied by his loving glance. He cupped his hands against her cheeks and guided her down and kissed her passionately hard. Staring deep into her eyes, his hands slid across her body until they rested on her hips, and he coaxed her down until his throbbing need entered her. Eloda quivered with pleasure and delved her nails deep into his shoulders and clutched him tightly. Matching each thrust in equal time and measure, she moaned out her pleasure. When she couldn’t take anymore, her body found release and she called his name aloud. His body followed her lead and with one final thrust, he found release of his own. Eloda fell onto his body and gasped for air, and he lovingly caressed her back as his breath labored heavily.
“Thank you,” she said, and from his chest, she smiled up at him. “If I die tomorrow with this memory imprinted on my mind, I can most definitely say I will die a greatly content woman.”
Entwining her hair around his finger, he lightly tugged. “Let’s not think about that tonight,” he whispered and drew her tightly into his arms.
The Widow's Touch (A Whimsical Select Romance Novella) Page 6