Texas Tall

by Kaki Warner

  The tears fell unchecked now. She couldn’t stop them. Couldn’t escape the ache spreading through her heart, the grief flooding her mind. But she needed to finish this and end the secrecy so she could put all this behind her and build a life with Ty.

  “What happened then, Miss Weyland?” Sims asked.

  “For two days, I sat outside the shed and talked until my voice gave out, trying to get him to let me know if he was still alive. He never ate the food I brought. Never spoke. Never made a sound. When I looked through the gaps in the plank wall, I could see he never moved. So I did what he had told me to do. I gathered rags and broken furniture, stacked them in the house, and doused them with lamp oil. I piled brush along the sides of the shed. Then I gave him one last chance to call out. When he didn’t, I set everything on fire and rode away.”

  Sims gave her a handkerchief and waited while she blotted the tears. Once she had regained control, he asked where she went after leaving the ranch.

  “East. To Greenbroke.”

  “Why there?”

  “I felt that’s where Grandpa would want me to be. He had mentioned the town several times in the past. Told me when he tired of ranching he might go to Greenbroke and take up teaching again. I didn’t put much credence in it at the time—he had a lot of grand plans—I called them ‘someday’ dreams. But when I saw the signpost pointing the way, I knew that’s where I should go. I thought being there might bring me closer to him and I wouldn’t feel so alone.”

  Sims stepped back. “I have no more questions for this witness,” he told the judge.

  The courtroom was silent. Lottie saw faces that had once been hostile, now showed sympathy. Perhaps even forgiveness. Only one was smiling.

  Ty. When he caught her eye, he mouthed the words, I love you. Still. And she almost burst into tears again—tears of joy, relief, gratitude. Love. Her ordeal was over. It would be in the judge’s hands now. But no matter his decision, she felt free at last.

  Lottie started to rise when Judge Yarborough said, “I’ve got a question.” He waited for her to sit back down, then leaned forward and studied her through skeptical eyes. “That was a compelling story, Miss Weyland. It had the ring of truth to it. But it would help if you had someone to back it up. Did anyone ever come visiting or see your grandfather while he was sick?”

  Sims started to say something.

  The judge waved him off. “I’d like to hear from the accused, not her paid solicitor. Miss Weyland?”

  “No, Your Honor. The only one who came by was Mr. Krispin, and Grandpa wouldn’t see him. He was in pain and out of control most of the time, and was too prideful to let anyone see him that way. But I think the main reason he didn’t want anyone to know he was dying was because he was afraid of what would happen to me. A fourteen-year-old girl on her own can be easy prey. He had taught me to take care of myself, and thought I’d be better off making my own decisions rather than becoming a charity case for well-meaning folks. And he was right. I’ve done well in Greenbroke, mostly on my own, but also with a lot of help from very kind people.”

  The judge studied her for a moment, then sat back. “You’re excused, Miss Weyland. Sims, proceed with your next witness.”

  Grateful that she no longer had to face the stares of curious spectators, Lottie returned to the defense table. As she took her seat, voices rose at the back of the courtroom. She turned to see Ty disappear out the door. Odd, that. But before she could puzzle it out, Sims was announcing his next witness.

  “I call Ridley Sims to give testimony, Your Honor.”

  “That’s you.”

  “It is, Your Honor.”

  Muttering under his breath, the judge motioned for the bailiff to swear him in. “You going to ask yourself questions, too?” he asked snidely.

  Sims fought a smile. “I’ll simply tell what I know firsthand to be the truth, Your Honor. But should you have questions, feel free to ask.”

  “Oh, I will.” One corner of Yarborough’s lacquered mustache quirked. “Well, get to it. The fish won’t wait forever.”

  Lottie wasn’t sure if he was referring to the folks in the pews or actual fish.

  After giving the oath and taking the witness chair, Sims began. “I didn’t know William Lofton well, although we had spoken at church several times. I found him to be a virtuous man of great intellect and exacting standards. Before his death, he came to me seeking legal advice. His hound had recently died of rabies, and Mr. Lofton was certain he had contracted the disease through a bite the animal had given him while sick. At that time, Mr. Lofton showed no symptoms of the disease, but wanted to make preparations just in case.”

  “You believed him?” Yarborough asked.

  “I had no reason not to. And he certainly had no reason to lie about something like that. In addition, he had an obvious dog bite on his arm that was already showing signs of infection.”

  “Continue.”

  “He told me he wanted to protect his granddaughter as best he could. To do that, he entrusted me with the money and paperwork to pay the taxes on his land three years in advance.”

  “Where’d he get the money?” Yarborough asked.

  “I believe he sold some family belongings, but I don’t know to whom. He also gave me this.” Sims reached into his coat pocket and extracted a folded piece of paper. “He signed it in my presence.” As he handed it to the judge, he added, “If you deem it necessary, Your Honor, I will be happy to provide witnesses to verify that the signature is indeed that of William Lofton.”

  Lottie wondered why Sims hadn’t told her about this paper.

  Judge Yarborough scanned the letter then frowned at Sims. “This sounds as if he expected his granddaughter to be charged in his death.”

  Lottie’s jaw dropped. He did?

  “He felt it was a possibility,” Sims said. “As you see in the letter, he describes in great detail what he wanted Miss Weyland to do, including the disposal of his remains by fire so that even in death he could not infect others.”

  “Is that even possible?”

  “There are some who think it is. I read extensively about rabies after Lofton came to see me. Many think the disease can be transmitted from one person to another through saliva and lesions of the skin. It’s unproven at this point, but he felt it wasn’t worth the risk. Especially to his granddaughter.”

  Lottie was stunned. Why hadn’t she known about this? She thought of what she had gone through when all the while, Sims had carried the key to her freedom in his pocket. If he’d been within range she might have struck him.

  Yarborough set the paper aside.

  “Anything else?”

  “No, Your Honor.”

  “I’ll present my ruling at nine tomorrow morning.” Lifting his gavel, the judge brought it down with a crack. “Court is dismissed.” In a lower voice he told Sims to be at his office in half an hour. “And bring bait.”

  “Before you go, Judge,” Lottie said, “could I ask what will happen to my grandfather’s remains? I’d like to take them home for burial if possible.”

  “Chester, ask Dr. Tillips to seal them in a box or something. Miss Weyland has been through enough without having to deal with that.”

  As soon as the judge left the courtroom, Lottie rounded on Sims. “Why didn’t you tell me about Grandpa’s letter?”

  “He asked me not to. He was afraid you’d worry.”

  “And going through all this was better?” She truly did almost strike him.

  “Miss Weyland, you have been the soul of courage. Don’t fail me now.”

  Lottie pressed fingertips to her brow where a headache was forming. “All right. Now what? Am I free?”

  “Not yet. The judge will give his decision tomorrow—which I’m hopeful will be in your favor—then you’ll be free. Take heart. It’s only one more night.”

  Chapter
19

  While Sims stuffed papers back into his case, Lottie looked around for the sheriff to take her back to her cell. Instead, she saw Lt. Millsap lurching through the departing crowd on unsteady legs, the ever-present handcuffs dangling from his hand. His shirt was torn. Blood oozed from a split in his lip and a bruise darkened the swollen skin across his cheekbone. What in the world had happened?

  “Hold out your arms,” he ordered, slurring his words.

  She drew back, repelled by the stench of whiskey on his breath. “The sheriff said he would take me back.”

  “The sheriff’s busy. Hold out your arms.”

  “But he—”

  “You’d rather do this the hard way? Fine with me.” In a move so sudden Lottie had no time to react, he grabbed her right arm in a bruising grip, snapped the manacle over her wrist, and reached for her left.

  Sims stepped forward. “Is that really necessary, Lieutenant?”

  “Move!” Roughly elbowing the elderly solicitor aside, he snapped on the left cuff. “Interfere again, old man, and I’ll put you down hard. Now get out of my way!”

  Sims got out of his way.

  Gripping the back of Lottie’s neck, the ranger steered her through the small gate in the railing and past the empty pews.

  She tried to call back to Sims, but Millsap’s fingers dug in so deep she couldn’t turn her head. Yet what could the lawyer have done against a man half again his size, especially when that man had the power of the Texas Rangers behind him? And where was Ty?

  “Let me go!” She tried to twist free, but he tightened his grip, sending arcs of pain across her shoulders. “Why are you doing this? I thought you weren’t involved with my case anymore.”

  Instead of answering, he pushed her out of the courtroom and into the sheriff’s office next door. Shoving her inside, he slammed the door closed behind him.

  When she saw the room was empty, panic exploded. “Where’s the sheriff?”

  “Shut up.”

  Grabbing the ring of keys off a nail in the wall, he herded her ahead of him toward the cells in back. “Party time, son,” he called out and laughed.

  Lottie saw movement in the middle cell next to hers, but it wasn’t until Millsap unlocked her barred door and thrust her inside that she got a clear view of the occupant. “Ty?”

  “Lottie!” Jumping from his cot, he charged to the bars separating their cells, gripping them with knuckles that were scraped and swollen. More blood trickled down his jaw from a swollen gash on his forehead. “Are you all right?”

  “Y-yes. What happened?”

  His gaze shot past her to Millsap. His eyes were terrifying. Menace radiated off his tense body like sweat. “Get out of her cell!” he snarled, his lips drawn flat against clenched teeth.

  “Not yet.” The ranger kicked her cell door closed, stuffed the ring of keys into his front pocket, then started unbuckling his gun belt. “Thought I’d have some fun before my train comes.”

  Lottie stood frozen in the middle of the cell. Do something! her mind screamed. But her body wouldn’t obey. Where was the sheriff?

  Ty yanked on the bars like a madman. “You hurt her, I’ll kill you!”

  “I doubt it. You don’t have the guts for it.” The belt dropped to the floor beside the door. “But to show there’s no hard feelings, son, I’ll let you watch.” Grinning, he reached for Lottie.

  Finally jarred into action, she darted for the door.

  He caught her, swung her off her feet, and flung her toward the cot against the back wall.

  She landed in a sprawl, banging her forehead against the rough stone. Above the ringing in her ears, she heard Ty’s panicked voice.

  “You’ll never get away with it! They’ll take your badge. They’ll hang you!”

  “They haven’t yet. Lie down, bitch!”

  Lottie tried to scramble out of reach but he grabbed her ankle and yanked her back. Head still reeling, she reared up, kicking and flailing. Heard him grunt when her fist landed on his bruised cheek.

  “Be still!”

  His palm cracked against the side of her head, drove her back down. Panting, she twisted, desperate to free her legs so she could kick.

  “Millsap!” Ty yanked so hard on the bars the metal rattled against the stone sockets. “You touch her, I’ll kill you. I’ll put you in the fucking ground!”

  Then the ranger was on top of her, his big belly pushing against her stomach. She smelled stale sweat, alcohol. Felt his fingers dig into her thighs, trying to force her legs apart. In mindless terror, she fought him, clawed at his face, his eyes.

  “You like it rough, do you?” Planting his knees on either side of her legs, he rose up, one hand pressing against her throat, the other drawn back and clenched in a fist.

  Freer now that he was kneeling over her rather than lying on top of her, she brought up her knee. Heard his grunt as it struck him between his legs. Kneed him again, then again until he doubled over with a rasping groan and collapsed on top of her, trapping her beneath him.

  Over the drumming in her head, she heard Ty shouting, kicking the bars.

  She couldn’t breathe. Lungs burning, she twisted and bucked, frantic to get Millsap off. Something sharp and hard dug into her side. The keys! She wrestled them free and with the last of her strength, flung them toward the sound of Ty’s voice. Then everything began to dim.

  Dimly, she heard Ty calling her name. The clang of the barred door. Shouts. Curses. The thud of fists striking flesh.

  And suddenly, the weight was gone.

  She gasped, her chest on fire as she sucked air down her bruised throat and into her starved lungs. Then she was being crushed again, but this time it was Ty, and he was shaking as much as she was, and she knew she was finally safe.

  “Is he—”

  “Taken care of.” With a trembling hand, Ty brushed back hair that had escaped her pins during the struggle. “You’re safe. He won’t bother you anymore. Jesus, honey . . . I should have taken better care of you. Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?”

  Hearing a groan, she looked past Ty’s shoulder to see Millsap curled in the front corner of her cell. One hand clutched his groin, the other was handcuffed to the bars. He was retching. “What did you do to him?”

  “Less than he deserves.” He gave a shaky laugh. “Remind me never to make you mad.”

  She shuddered, terror rising to the surface again. “That’s not funny.”

  “It wasn’t meant to be. You’re an amazing woman, Charlotte Weyland. I wish I could thank your grandfather for his part in that.”

  “Holy hell!” The sheriff gaped from the hallway, Sims and Yarborough at his back. “What happened? Is that Lieutenant Millsap?”

  Ty bolted to his feet as Sims pushed past the sheriff into the cell. “Are you all right, Miss Weyland? I would have come sooner but I couldn’t find the sheriff.”

  Realizing she was still stretched on her cot, Lottie shoved down her skirts and struggled to get up, only to sag back when the movement made her head swim. She made it to her feet the second time, although it took a moment for her to find her balance. Lifting a hand to her head, she felt a lump where her forehead had banged into the wall. “Battered, but fine.”

  “No thanks to you, Sheriff,” Ty accused, his big body still planted between her and the men crowding through the cell door. “Where were you? And where’s my gun?”

  Sims ignored him. “Perhaps you should fetch Dr. Tillips, Sheriff. Miss Weyland seems a bit more than battered, and Lieutenant Benton should have that cut tended.”

  “Not before I find out what happened here,” Yarborough snapped. “Benton, explain.”

  In clipped tones, Ty told them he had followed Millsap to the Golden Doe Saloon to confront him about the ranger’s poor treatment of Lottie. “We argued, made a few threats. I thought that was the end of it and we
nt back to the hearing. But Millsap kept drinking and finally worked himself up enough to come roust me out of the courtroom. He was mean drunk by then and itching for a fight. So I gave him one. Until he hit me in the head with his pistol. Next thing I knew I was locked up.”

  Yarborough turned to the sheriff. “And where were you all this time?”

  “In the courtroom with most of the rest of the town.”

  Ty glared at him, hands fisted at his sides. “Then why didn’t you escort Miss Weyland from the courtroom like you were supposed to?”

  Color flooded the lawman’s face. “I was sent to check on a stolen horse.”

  “Sent by whom?” Sims asked.

  “Him.” The sheriff nodded at Millsap. “But I didn’t know nothing about any of this until now.” He gave a nervous smile. “Good thing you insisted that me and the judge come with you to check on Miss Weyland before y’all went fishing.”

  Muttering something about incompetent fools, Yarborough dragged a hand over his hairless scalp. “Then what happened?”

  Wanting to get this over with, Lottie stepped around Ty. “Perhaps I can explain.” Which she did, as succinctly as possible, despite her pounding head and aching muscles from her struggle with Millsap. “He would have forced himself on me,” she concluded, “if not for Lieutenant Benton’s intervention.”

  “And your knee,” Ty reminded her.

  The sheriff looked from Ty to Lottie. “What about her knee?”

  Yarborough waved the question aside. “But if Benton was locked in another cell, how did he get into yours, Miss Weyland?”

  “I threw the keys to him.”

  “After she kneed him,” Ty added, proudly.

  “Kneed him?”

  “In the privates. Three times. She’s a helluva fighter.”

  All four men looked at the ranger still moaning and retching on the floor.

  “I want my gun back,” Ty said again.

  “Not if you’re going to use it on him,” the sheriff muttered.

  Sims turned to the judge. “A clear case of self-defense, Your Honor. Two cases, if you count Lieutenant Millsap’s attack on Ranger Benton.”