by Linda Broday
Maybe he’d been unable to find Dominick. Maybe he was lying somewhere, injured and bleeding. She stilled.
Or maybe Jude Dominick had killed him.
After Kate Marshall left the witness box, the judge turned to Phineas. “Do you have other witnesses?”
He called Tally next. “Mrs. Colby, please tell the court what you saw your stepmother do with your own eyes.”
“The threats started immediately after marrying my father.” Tally told about Lucinda’s ruining her and Brady’s food, ripping up their clothes, and taking whatever she wanted from their rooms. “She wrenched my arm and said she could make life extremely miserable for me.” Tally smiled at the judge. “I’m not very biddable. I meticulously recorded everything she did in a journal, but I’m sure she long destroyed that account. About two weeks following my father’s marriage to Lucinda, he became very ill. He was a robust rancher who’d never been sick a day in his life. In a week’s time, he had become a frail ghost of a man.” Her voice lowered. “He died a week later.”
“And then what?”
“Jude Dominick appeared. He and Lucinda would hole up in my father’s office for hours. I saw them kissing several times.”
Hargrove glanced at his notes. “What did you think about that?”
“Objection!” the defense attorney shouted.
“Withdrawn.” Hargrove smiled. “What else did you observe?”
“Dominick spending the night in Lucinda’s bedroom, for one. They were as thick as thieves and I warned Brady to watch out. But a few days later, workers also found him dead. The doctor said he’d fallen and been trampled by horses. He had broken his spine in several places.”
“But you didn’t believe that, Mrs. Colby?”
“No. I knew Dominick had somehow arranged his death. Brady was an excellent rider.”
“Do you have any proof that he killed your brother?”
Tally stared at Lucinda, who gloated back, her smile smug. She wanted to slap the woman again. “No. But I can say with certainty what happened to me.” She told her story, all of it. “My stepmother put my obituary in the newspaper to cover her tracks in case anyone got curious.”
To have someone finally listen to her brought huge relief. Tears hovered behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
Lucinda jumped to her feet, pointing her finger. “Lies, all lies! She’s the real murderer. She killed Cormick out of anger for him marrying me.”
Tally gasped. The gold-digging woman was determined to ruin her any way she could. Please don’t let anyone believe her.
“Why would she do that, Mrs. Shannon?” Hargrove calmly asked. “Why not kill you? By all accounts, you brought discord and anger into the house.”
“She probably tried that too, but I kept vigilant.”
“Sit down, Mrs. Shannon.” The judge leaned forward to speak to Tally. “You’re a brave woman, Mrs. Colby, and I find your testimony most compelling. But what proof do you actually have? This is all hearsay.”
“I have no proof beyond what I’ve stated. The man who can back up my claims is absent.”
“You can step down, Mrs. Colby. Counselor Hargrove, do have anyone else to call?”
Hargrove turned to Tally with an apologetic gaze. They’d lost. “No, Your Honor. As Mrs. Colby stated, my other witness hasn’t made it.”
“Are you going to believe two lying, conniving, scrawny whores against me, Your Honor?” Lucinda yelled. “I’m a pillar of society, with land and money. I can make and break people.”
Tally’s heart sank. All their hard work and hoping to make Lucinda pay was for naught.
“Then I have no choice but to—”
The door flung open. “Not so fast, Judge.” Clay stood with Dominick locked in his grip. “This man has something to say that may change things.”
Lucinda released a sharp curse. Tally wanted to run into Clay’s arms. It was all she could do to keep seated. A million questions filled her mind as she took in his bloody, torn clothes. Whatever he’d been through getting Jude Dominick here had been bad.
“Who are you?” the judge asked.
“Clay Colby, sir. Tally is my wife. And this is Jude Dominick.” He pushed Dominick forward. “He has a confession to make.” Clay squeezed what appeared to be a gunshot wound in Dominick’s upper arm. “Don’t you?”
“Yes,” Dominick answered. “I’ll tell you what you want to hear. Then for God’s sake, can I have a doctor?”
“Take the witness box and place your hand on the Bible,” the judge growled.
Clay slid into the seat next to Tally and reached for her hand. Her world righted.
For the next hour, Jude Dominick spilled his guts, with Lucinda elbowing her lawyer to object every few minutes. At one point, Dominick pierced her with his gaze. “You can lie all you want, Lucinda, but it’s over. I’m not going down with you. You were always full of greed, never satisfied with what you already had.” He turned to the judge. “She killed her husband with rat poison, forced me to arrange an accident for her stepson and find a place to put Tally away to die. She did it for the money and land.”
Lucinda jumped to her feet. “You’re a bald-faced lair! You’re just trying to save your own stupid neck. I never trusted you. You’re the one who did it all. Not me. You framed me!”
“It’s over, Lucinda. Just stop,” Dominick growled.
Hargrove rested his arms on the wooden witness box. “Thank you, Mr. Dominick. I think justice was served here today.”
“Now can I have a doctor? And keep Colby away from me. That’s one crazy bastard.” Dominick’s gaze darkened when he spared Clay a glance. “You might want to arrest him. He has a price on his head, Judge.”
Tally tensed. He couldn’t get arrested now, not after all they’d been through. She yearned to cry out, tell him to run and hide—only it was too late.
“Is this correct?” the judge asked.
Hargrove fished a document from his case. “No, sir. Amnesty just arrived from the governor. I’ve got his papers here to attest to the fact. Clay Colby is a free man.”
“Well, what do you know?” Clay appeared stunned. “It really happened. I’m free, Tally. I don’t have to look over my shoulder any longer.”
“I’m so happy.” Tally squeezed his hand. “You’re not wanted by anyone but me and Violet.”
“I’m glad.”
The judge read the amnesty paper Hargrove gave him and straightened. “It appears this is all in order.” He turned to the sheriff who stood beside the door. “Arrest Lucinda Shannon and take her to jail to await trial for murder, theft, lying, fraud, and anything else you can find. If she even spits on the sidewalk, add that to the list.”
“Get your hands off me!” Lucinda yelled at the sheriff. “I’m innocent.”
“I’d worry, Mrs. Shannon.” The judge’s stern voice filled the room. “If your trial lands in my court, I’ll hang you. I’ve never seen a more callous, cruel woman in my life. Mrs. Tally Colby, your father’s estate and all it entails is hereby returned to you, and I’m declaring the spousal entitlement of your stepmother null and void.” He addressed Dominick. “Don’t leave town. Until we can sort out the truth, I don’t trust you as far as I can sling a snake. But I can assure that you won’t get off without some jail time.”
He banged the gavel with a sharp rap. “Court’s adjourned.”
Tally flew into Clay’s arms. “We won. I can’t believe it. We beat her.”
“We sure did.” He lowered his head, his lips meeting hers in a kiss that seared down to her soul. They were together and all was right—at least for the moment.
Forty-three
The celebration that followed that afternoon in the hotel dining room probably set a record for being the noisiest ever. There were lots of whooping and hollering with Ridge, Kate, Amanda, and Phineas Hargrove. During a s
light lull, Clay took Phineas aside to personally thank him.
“When you came to visit us in Hope’s Crossing, I didn’t give a nickel for our chances.” Clay met the lawyer’s eyes. “You sure earned your money and then some.”
“I’d like to hear your story. How did you get Jude Dominick here?”
“I just told him how it was going to be. He’d come or I’d shoot both legs off.”
Hargrove chuckled. “From the looks of you both, I figured it was something like that.”
“If you’ll give me Jack Bowdre’s amnesty papers, I’ll be happy to take them to him.”
“Sorry, Clay. Jack didn’t get his.”
Sadness and surprise crawled up Clay’s spine. “Can I ask why?”
“The governor said he’d betrayed the code of lawmen and he couldn’t allow that. I know this is going to hurt Mr. Bowdre.”
A slight understatement. It would shake Jack to the marrow of his bones. His friend had lost the woman he was going to marry and now his freedom as well. Dammit to hell! Clay swung away, trying to hide bitter disappointment.
Attuned to his every mood as she was, Tally seemed to sense a problem. She moved quickly to his side. “What’s wrong, Clay?”
Her sweet fragrance drifted over him. He should forget this momentary setback, sweep her into his arms, and carry her up to bed. But he couldn’t yet.
He faced her squarely. “Jack didn’t get his amnesty. Only me.”
Instant caring flashed into her wintery-blue gaze. “Oh no, I’m so sorry. I know how much he wanted freedom. This breaks my heart.”
“Yeah. Mine as well.” He caressed her shoulders and nuzzled her neck. “Hargrove said the papers have been signed to return your father’s estate to you. The land itself should be worth a lot of money, though he wasn’t sure how much cash or personal items remain. Any thought what you’ll do with all of it?”
She traced the scar, made whiter against his tanned cheek, and laid a palm tenderly against his jaw. “Sell the lot. I will never live there again—too many bad memories. So I’ll instruct Hargrove to find a buyer. My place is in Hope’s Crossing.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” He’d been prepared to support whatever decision she made but had feared she’d want to live on her father’s land. One thing for sure, he’d go wherever she went. Home wasn’t a place—it was being with the person you loved. And Tally was his. “After we take care of a few things in the morning, we’ll start back. I can’t wait to see Violet.”
“I can’t either. She threw a fit to come, but she’d have been bored without Jenny and Ely to play with.” Tally brushed her lips across his, a wispy, featherlight touch that added fuel to the hunger already exploding inside him.
“Clay, do you know what I’m going to do with my windfall?”
“I’m sure you’ll make a wise decision.” He lifted her palm and kissed the sensitive flesh of her wrist.
“I’m donating some to the town, and the rest will be for Violet. In a few years, when she’s older, I want to send her to a school for the blind. I’ve heard they have a special way of teaching how to read with their fingers. It’s called braille. I want—we both want—to open up her world to all kinds of exciting possibilities. She needs the kind of education that we can’t give her.”
It would kill him to send their daughter away, to see her only on certain occasions, but Tally was right. They couldn’t hold Violet back. She was a bird that already yearned to fly.
Clay blinked away the sudden mist in his eyes. “I’ll make sure she gets whatever will help her thrive in this crazy, dangerous world.”
“Good. I’m glad you agree. It’s important for everyone to be able to live as best they can, and the odds have been stacked against her from the start.”
Tally’s nearness, the glistening light in her blue eyes, her curves pressed against him proved too much. He’d always heard that timing had a lot to do with a rain dance. Despite the celebration, the onlookers, and the fact that it was still daylight, Clay swept her up into his arms and proceeded to the staircase.
Their bed was waiting, but he wasn’t any longer.
* * *
After a long, arduous trip, Clay rode through the entrance and into Hope’s Crossing with Tally by his side. Ridge had decided to make a side trip to visit his old homestead and would come later. Everyone ran to greet them, all asking questions, but he only had eyes for one.
“Daddy! Mama!” Violet jerked away from Belle’s hand.
Laughing, he slid from the saddle to snatch Violet into his arms, holding her close. “I’ve missed you, baby girl.”
“I’m glad.” She patted his face. “I thought you might find another little kid.”
“Oh goodness, no.” Tally pressed kisses to her daughter’s cheeks after Clay lowered her. “But maybe you found another mama you liked better.”
Violet giggled. “No. I just want you and Daddy. That’s all.”
Jack pushed through the throng of welcomers. “Give us the news. Did Tally win?”
Clay met the eyes of his friend, wishing he didn’t have to tell him the disappointing part. “The trial went great and we won. The judge returned everything Tally’s stepmother had stolen from her. And the woman is in jail awaiting trial for the murders she committed.”
A hip hip hurrah went up from the crowd.
Tally raised her hands to silence them. “That means you all have greatly benefitted. Other than what Violet will need, I’m donating every cent to the town. We’ll be able to get all the supplies we’ve had to scrounge and wait for. We’re all rich.”
“That’s mighty generous!” Tobias January shouted with lots of people seconding that.
“We have news too,” Hester Mason said. “Five weddings. My ladies are marrying these men here. They’re going to tame the wildness out of them and start families.”
Tally beamed. “That’s excellent.”
“How about that?” Clay could barely recognize the women they’d saved—both from Creedmore and Deliverance Canyon. Many wore a bandage on their cheek from Dr. Mary’s treatment, and all but a few had started to lose the haunting pain in their eyes. This was what freedom did. He filled his lungs with the fresh night air, where hope and dreams rode on the wind.
He set Violet down, telling Tally he needed to speak to Jack. He might as well deliver the bad verdict now. The two men moved a short distance away.
“What, Clay? Is it the amnesty? Just spit it out.”
“Yes, it is concerning that.” He met the eyes of his best friend. “I got it but you—”
“I didn’t,” Jack finished for him. His voice was flat. “Did the governor say why?”
“It’s because you were a lawman and held to a higher standard than me.” Clay glanced at their fledgling town. Jack had worked so hard—far more than anyone in town—and yet he could still be arrested by a posse at any time. Nothing about this was fair.
“Don’t give up. I’ll help you refile next year.”
Jack started to walk away but stopped. “Thanks for trying, Clay, but we both know it’s wasted effort.”
Clay watched the hard, whipcord form as Jack strode toward the corral. Jack would saddle up and ride—his way of dealing with crushing disappointment. He just prayed his friend and trail partner wouldn’t do anything of a permanent nature.
After a long moment, he turned toward the woman he loved and addressed the fire building inside him.
Tonight was theirs. They were home.
* * *
That night, Tally slipped through the flap of their outdoor bathing room while Clay held it open. He already had buckets of water lined on the shelf overhead, ready to drench them. The moon provided plenty of light, and the windmill made beautiful music that wound through her soul.
The good thing about wearing nothing but a wrap was that it only to
ok untying the bow to strip down. The night air brushed against her bare skin like soft feathers.
With his gun belt and vest behind at the house, Clay undressed in nothing flat.
A naughty smile stretched across her face. She laced her fingers together around his neck, her breasts cozying up to the hard wall of his naked chest. Her kiss let him know exactly what she wanted in no uncertain terms.
She remembered making Clay promise to release her come spring. So foolish. “Clay, about spring—you can stop wondering. As long as I breathe, I’ll never leave your side. We’re bound by a bond that is stronger than rawhide.”
Clay seemed so still. Wasn’t he happy? At last, he put his hand under her jaw and she realized it was trembling. “You don’t know how happy I am. I didn’t know how on God’s earth I was going to keep my end of the bargain. I never want to lose what we’ve found. I never knew what happiness really was until you waltzed into my life on a sunshiny day.”
Love for him surged from the depth of her being as his large body seemed to steal every inch of the space and then some. His hands splayed against her back and drew her ever closer to him, then slid down her spine to her buttocks.
She released a soft whimper and met his tongue in a mating dance. Her breath came in harsh gasps against his mouth. She was barely able to think, to feel, to speak anything other than the language of the heart. Her palm moved between their bodies, searching for and finding his jutting need.
“Watch it, lady”—his breath whispered across her cheek—“or this will end before it starts.”
“I’m not afraid. I know your secret.”
He nuzzled behind her ear. “What’s that?”
“You have staying power—both in lovemaking and in life. You don’t quit, only get tougher and more determined, no matter what comes.”
And maybe she did too. She felt as though she’d crossed a stormy sea in nothing but a dinghy, the waves pummeling and threatening to drown her every inch of the way. But that was just life and other people had similar problems. She was no fool. More trials lay ahead, some that would block out the sun for a bit. Still, with him, she could get through anything.