Romancing the Wilderness: American Wilderness Series Boxed Bundle Books 1 - 3

by Dorothy Wiley

  The prickly Judge was not the only one ill at ease. Sam could see William growing more exasperated by the second. He watched as William loosened the perfectly tied cravat around his neck, and then took a deep breath now that he could breathe a little easier.

  “Indeed, your Honour, I have a good deal more to say. A ball from Mr. Foley’s own weapon killed his man. An unfortunate accident that would never have happened had Foley not pointed his weapon at my brother Stephen. Captain Wyllie merely responded to that serious threat, believing our brother Stephen was about to be fatally shot. In fact, my brother exercised restraint. If you knew the Captain’s ample skill with his knife, you would know that he could easily have aimed to kill Mr. Foley. Instead, he only sought to get the man to drop his weapon by aiming for his arm.

  “Also, your Honour, some of what I have to say may shock the court. I have determined that Mr. Foley has, at the very least, intimidated and harassed numerous townspeople causing considerable grief. He and his men behave in an unruly manner, but most importantly….”

  “Mr. Wyllie,” Judge Webb interrupted, “half the men in Kentucky behave in an unruly manner, and the other half will undoubtedly do so soon. May I remind you, Mr. Foley is not on trial here, your two brothers are. Your facts should pertain only to this case. Otherwise, they are as worthless as farts in a whirlwind.”

  William’s face turned red at the Judge’s terse and imaginative reprimand.

  Was his brother going to lose this case before their defense even begun? What would they do if he did? He knew one thing for sure. He wasn’t going to jail. He turned to look at Stephen, but his eyes caught Catherine instead. Her head bent and hands folded respectfully, he could tell she was praying. Did she care for them so much that she would pray on their behalf?

  The sight seemed to strengthen him. He could feel her concern in his heart. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and reassure her that everything would be all right. They would not lose. Somehow, William would make the Judge understand.

  Despite being humiliated, William straightened and seemed to gather his wits. “Your Honour, I am trying to establish this man’s character, or more accurately the lack of it, to this court. If Mr. Foley’s account is to be believed in this incident, he must be a man of honor. His actions toward others are an indication of his lack thereof.”

  “The purpose of this court is not to determine the virtue of a man. I’ll leave that to the judge,” Judge Webb retorted, pointing heavenward with his gavel, “and I will remind you, Mr. Wyllie, but once more. Mr. Foley is not on trial here.”

  Chapter 23

  “If your Honour will permit me a few more moments of the court’s time,” William said deferentially.

  And patience, Sam thought.

  “All right Mr. Wyllie, proceed, but get to your defense quickly.” Judge Webb squirmed in his chair again. “And be damn sure your facts are relevant.”

  “Your Honour, Captain Wyllie and Stephen Wyllie did not strike Mr. Foley and his men until provoked beyond what men of principle could be reasonably expected to withstand. And, Captain Wyllie did not throw his knife until after Mr. Foley picked up and aimed his powerful weapon with the intention of mortally harming Stephen Wyllie. I call Mr. Tom Wolf to the stand to testify to these facts. Mr. Wolf witnessed the entire fight. He is the only one, of at least a dozen men who can offer similar testimonies to these unfortunate events, who has the courage and fortitude to testify. All of the others are so afraid of retribution by these ruffians they will not take the stand. However, Mr. Wolf, as you are no doubt already aware Judge, is a man of honor and a leading citizen in this community and believes it his duty to testify. He understands that men like these ruffians must be held accountable, or his children will grow up in a place without law and order.”

  Foley and the other buffalo hunters glared and jeered at Wolf as he came forward.

  Wolf glanced sharply back at them, his eyes blazing, and then stood before the judge.

  Sam still couldn’t believe Mr. Wolf had agreed to testify. He suspected Wolf had heard the same story about Foley being a traitor and saw this as an opportunity to rid Boonesborough once and for all of these troublemakers. Men like Foley’s bunch were bad for business.

  Wolf quickly described the incident to the Judge who clearly continued to grow impatient. The witness stressed the part of the fight where Sam could easily have killed one of Foley’s men but instead exercised restraint and mercy by only cutting the man’s long hair, not his throat.

  Sam swallowed. He had Stephen to thank for his supposed restraint.

  “Thank you, Mr. Wolf, you may leave.” The Judge waved the witness away.

  Foley jumped up. “That’s not at all what happened. He only has one witness. I have four sitting right here. They’ll all tell you that Stephen fellow there attacked me first and I never pulled a weapon on nobody. I want my brother to testify first.”

  “Let’s save the court some time, shall we?” Judge Webb glared at the group of buffalo hunters. “Do you all agree with the version of the incident told by your leader?”

  The four men all vigorously shook their heads.

  “I thought so. Please continue Mr. Wyllie.”

  “If Mr. Foley can use his brother and companions as witnesses, than so could I. Instead, as you just heard, I have provided the court with a very credible third party, not involved in the altercation.

  “Judge Webb, the most important information for the court to consider is that Mr. Foley’s testimony cannot be trusted because he is a man wholly without principle. We have reason to believe that he is in this new state of Kentucky to escape probable punishment in the colonies for treason. We believe he served as a scout for the British during our war for independence.”

  Sam saw outrage flash across the faces of those in the courtroom, including the stunned Judge. Webb’s angry gaze swung over to Foley. Treason was the most despicable of crimes.

  One man in the courtroom yelled out, “You lousy red-coat hellspawn.”

  “You served the locusts of the nation,” another shouted.

  “The dogs would have enslaved us,” bellowed another, “and ravished our daughters.”

  Sam wasn’t surprised that the emotions that fueled the Revolution still ran high. But he now knew honorable men had fought for the British too. The bitterness of war, though, was a hard fire to put out.

  After the shouts died down, William cleared his throat and continued. “Kentucky, like all places on the edge of civilization, harbors men running from their past as well as men running toward their future. Before you today stand both kinds of men.”

  Sam’s brows collided, his thoughts racing. With a start, he realized that he and Stephen also represented both those kinds of men. Without a doubt, he had come to Kentucky to run away from his past. He turned his head and considered Stephen, who sat up a little straighter at William’s remark. Stephen came here looking toward the future. But, despite the distance Sam had traveled, he was still stuck in his past. That explained why he couldn’t let his feelings for Catherine surface. The realization stunned him. Filled with self-reproach, he swallowed his disappointment in himself.

  Outbursts from Foley and the hunters, and others in the courtroom, made Judge Webb pound his gavel like an energetic woodpecker, causing him to make numerous dents in the soft pine table.

  “You’re a damn liar,” Foley shouted, pointing a dirty finger at William, “a filthy liar.”

  That’s the pot calling the kettle black, Sam thought.

  “This is a very serious charge, Mr. Wyllie. What proof do you have?” Judge Webb asked.

  William answered with surprising calmness. “We are bringing in a witness to the court that will state he saw Mr. Foley working for the British as a scout. However, your Honour, we ask that you meet with this witness privately, for he too is in fear of retribution by these ruffians and does not want them to know his identity. This is why he has not brought charges against Mr. Fol
ey heretofore.”

  “Are there any other witnesses to this charge of working for the lousy lobster-backs?”

  The Judge seemed to perk up, indignation replacing impatience.

  “You may not yet be aware that Captain Wyllie is a hero of the Revolution and received a decoration for valor from George Washington himself.” William paused to look around at the people in the courtroom, giving them time to absorb what he’d just said.

  Mummers of approval spread from one man to another. Sam felt his face warming as numerous eyes turned in his direction. He wished William had not used the term hero. It made him feel uncomfortable and unworthy. Many others made greater sacrifices and showed more valor than he had.

  William continued, “Captain Wyllie believes he may have also seen this man with the British, but is unable to positively determine if it’s him because of the man’s considerable beard and hair.”

  “When will your first witness be here?” Judge Webb asked.

  “We hope today. Tomorrow at the latest.”

  “Very well. Constable Mitchell, place Mr. Foley in your custody.”

  “What kind of court is this?” Foley demanded as he shoved the young constable away from him. “I’m not on trial here, they are.”

  The Judge placed his pistol on top of his desk and glared a silent threat, shutting the man up.

  Sam wondered if Foley had heard the stories about Webb gaining control of an unruly defendant or two by just shooting them. Reportedly, he never mortally wounded defendants, but he wasn’t beyond causing them to limp from his courtroom.

  Mitchell rapidly placed a manacle around the man’s only wrist, before he realized Foley didn’t have another one to lock on to. For several awkward moments, the constable didn’t know what to do. Looking confused, he glanced over at the Judge for help.

  “Constable, put shackles around the man’s ankles. Then place him in your jail, pending the testimony of these witnesses. Have Mr. Foley shaved and his hair cut before tomorrow morning. No one—or even one merely under suspicion—who has helped the Red Coats will ever leave my courtroom a free man.”

  Judge Webb picked up his pistol, gesturing toward the other buffalo hunters. “If any of you so much as go near a member of the Wyllie family or Mr. Wolf, I will personally see to it that this gun will need reloading. First, I’ll shoot you where it will hurt the most, then I’ll hang you. Furthermore, I advise you to leave town immediately and proceed out of this state. I suggest you head north to the territories, there’s plenty of buffalo up there. Do it now!”

  The buffalo hunters jumped up and stampeded from the courtroom. The smell of the room instantly improved.

  Sam could not help a slight half-smile. Judge Webb was a man he could respect.

  Grabbing Frank Foley’s good arm, the constable and two members of the local militia hauled the grumbling and cursing man off to the Fort’s jail.

  After they left, Judge Webb cleared the rest of the courtroom of all but the Wyllies. As Catherine turned to leave, Sam asked the Judge if she could stay. He didn’t want her out on the street alone, especially if those buffalo hunters were still around.

  “By all means,” Judge Webb answered graciously, smiling at Catherine. “The lovely lady brightens up this drab place.”

  “Thank you, Sir. You are most kind,” Catherine said in a silky voice, and then she gave Judge Webb a big smile.

  Sam could tell Catherine was doing her part to impact the trial’s outcome.

  Webb’s face split into a wide grin.

  He couldn’t blame the Judge. Her smile would warm a marble statue.

  He then instructed William to keep the witness out of town at their camp. “I’ll make sure that fleabag gets a shave if I have to do it myself. Captain Wyllie, as soon as your witness arrives, come notify me. I have a small cabin on the east side of the Fort that I use for an office. Then we’ll walk across the enclosure to the jail and you can take a look at a clean-shaven Foley before we ride out to your camp to talk to your witness.”

  Sam nodded his agreement, hoping their witness would indeed arrive. If not, they were going to have one vexed Judge to deal with as well as the charges still pending against them.

  John, Bear, Lucky, and the O’Reilly brothers rode their weary horses into camp late that evening. They were all hungry and John, Bear, and Lucky appeared drained from lack of sleep, but their spirits rallied when they heard the results of the legal proceedings so far.

  Jane wanted John to go into town to see the doctor about his head wound, but he refused, saying that it was late and he was just too tired and she could tend to it just fine. After giving John a cup of whiskey, she took great care to thoroughly clean the raw cut causing him to nearly pass out between his gulps of the strong drink.

  Little John started crying when he saw his father’s pained face. Martha and Polly tried to take him aside so he wouldn’t have to see his father in pain, but Little John would have none of it. He stood by John, his little hand holding onto his father’s big hand. It made Sam even more proud of the boy.

  “Here, bite down on this,” Little John suggested, pulling a short piece of rope from a pocket.

  Seeing the small coil of rope surprised Sam. It must have been there ever since he and Stephen had given it to the boy to bite down on when Little John was badly hurt on their journey here. The rope helped to tether his nephew’s pain at a time when they had nothing else to ease his suffering. The boy’s injury was just the start of many tribulations he and Stephen had faced that day. Sam grimaced remembering.

  “Thanks, son, that will help,” John forced a smile despite his pain.

  John had nearly chewed through the rope by the time Jane finished putting a mixture of honey and herbs on the wound and stitching his brother’s forehead. It had pained Sam to watch, especially since there was nothing he could do but lend moral support. When she finished, she put another type of ointment on the wound so it wouldn’t scar too badly, but they were all more concerned about the wound festering than scarring. A wound like that could easily worsen, especially since it had gone untended for a day. She insisted John see the doctor in town as soon as he could.

  “I’ll be sure he does,” Sam promised.

  While Catherine and Kelly warmed food, Bear filled them all in on their narrow escape from the Indians, praising Lucky for his timely help. “John will have a scar that will make him want to wear a hat more often,” Bear said. “I’ll make him a grand coonskin cap.”

  “Will you make me one too?” Little John asked hopefully.

  “Aye. I’ll make you a bonnie cap,” Bear promised.

  “Now you’ll have scars like Uncle Sam,” Little John told his father.

  “Bear, once again you’ve proven your loyalty to our family. Thank you for having the good sense that we didn’t and going after John,” Sam said. “You saved his life.”

  “Aye. You four are a mite lackin’ in good sense sometimes.”

  Enjoying Bear’s good-natured ribbing, they all laughed, except John, who could only manage a slight smile.

  Bear eyed the four brothers and with emotion rising in his voice, he said, “I was reluctant, because he’s yer brother, not mine, to tell all of ye that I believed ye were makin’ a terrible mistake sendin’ John off by himself. Then I realized he really was me brother after all. Ye all are.”

  “Your name may not be Wyllie, but it might as well be,” Stephen said.

  “Bear, next time we’re in town, I’ll buy you a new hunting shirt to replace that torn one if we can find someone to make one big enough. And Lucky, maybe someday I can return the favor,” Sam offered. “If you ever need an extra man, I’m him.”

  Lucky nodded at Sam. “It weren’t nothin’ special, Captain. We all have to look out for one another out here. This place is still a bit wild. But we’ll get it tamed one of these days. Then it will be time for men like me to move on.”

  Sam nodded, anxious to move on himself. Would Catherine agree to come with them? He vo
wed to give that more thought. A lot more thought.

  Tomorrow morning, the Judge would hear O’Reilly’s testimony. Then, hopefully, the Judge would convict Foley and this whole absurd mess would be behind them.

  The sky a blaze of color-splashed clouds, he turned to look at the sun setting in the west. Its beauty buoyed his spirits like a lighthouse calling a captain lost at sea.

  Chapter 24

  Sam’s heart hammered as he ducked his head and took a step inside the dark jail. Would this be the son-of-a-bitch? After all these years of searching, would the man be right here in Boonesborough?

  As his eyes adjusted to the shadowy light, he could smell a chamber pot that needed emptying. A leaking barrel of water sat in one corner with a dipper hanging from it. The drips made a small pool of mud in the packed down dirt floor. The jail had three cells, each with a small window, providing more glare than light to the interior. The first two cells sat empty, but a man occupied the third at the far end of the room.

  Wordlessly, Judge Webb led him to Foley.

  Sam stared nearly transfixed by the man’s cruel eyes. War memories stirred. Sorrow gripped his heart. Fury filled him.

  He glared at Foley long and hard before he dared to speak, his thoughts deep, cold, and bitter.

  He stiffened and shook his head decisively.

  He turned and looked over his shoulder at the Judge. “As much as I detest this man, my honor will not allow me to falsely accuse him.”

  “Captain Wyllie, give him one more look to be sure he’s not the guy. Remember, we need two witnesses,” Judge Webb emphasized.

  Sam did not miss the Judge’s implication. He swung his head around. “It’s not him.”

  A sense of bitter disappointment filled him. This man was evil. Was probably also a traitor, but this wasn’t the traitor he knew. “The man I seek went by the name Eli Frazer. Many soldiers knew him well because he worked as a scout for several regiments of the Continental Army, including mine at one point, before he became a traitor.”