Leather and Lace

by DiAnn Mills

  “Someday when I’m done with school, I hope to find a woman who makes me feel the same way.”

  “You will. I’m sure of it. I have the letters drawn up to a few medical schools. I’ll get them posted this week.”

  “Thanks. Glad to hear Ben is helping.”

  “I gambled with that one.” Morgan watched the wind pick up a ragged curtain from inside the cabin and cause it to sway. He shuddered in remembrance. “I refuse to lose.”

  *****

  The morning after Ben agreed to help with her case, Casey awoke with more hope than she could ever remember. Surely with both men’s belief in her, there’d be a way to clear her name.

  Since sunup, she’d worked on the washing with Bonnie while Jocelyn made breakfast for the hands. In the late morning, Morgan stopped at the house while she hung the last load of sheets and pillowcases to dry. They’d smell very fine when she crawled into bed tonight. Odd how little niceties could mean so much.

  “Would you take a ride into town with me?” Morgan smiled like a little boy who’d played hooky from school.

  “I think so, as long as Jocelyn doesn’t mind. Can we stop by the parsonage? I’d really like to check on Sarah.” He nodded and kept on grinning. “What are you hiding?”

  “It’s a surprise.” He took her arm and linked it into his. “I’m one lucky man to have the prettiest girl in Texas. Nothing better than a curly-headed, red-haired angel.”

  “What did you do, buy another bull? A horse? A whole herd of cows?” She laughed.

  “None of those. This is more of a surprise for us.”

  She chilled. His words of marriage paralyzed her. I can’t let him know my fears. “Did you buy the whole town?”

  “If I could get you to marry me, I’d buy the whole state.”

  The wagon ride was pleasant with a fall chill that proved refreshing after the summer’s heat. She’d given up questioning him about the surprise, but when they pulled up in front of a small building beside the general store, she instantly knew what had him so excited.

  “Are you going to practice law again?” she said. “For folks other than me?”

  “I am. I made the arrangements yesterday. Tomorrow I’m cleaning up the place, and in a few days, I’ll move into the boardinghouse.” His grin refused to go away.

  “Now all of Kahlerville will have a lawyer,” she said. “But what about the ranch?”

  “Grant doesn’t need me until he heads east for school. I’ll do both or get a law partner.”

  She glanced around at the dust and dirt. “I’d like to help you get things ready.”

  “I didn’t bring you here to clean.”

  “Looks to me like you need a woman’s touch.” She pointed to the cobwebs in the corner of the ceiling.

  “I’m not so sure about that.”

  She caught the mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Are you saying you resent a woman’s touch? We do have much to offer.”

  “Miss Shawne, you have the wrong idea about me. I’m thinking as sure as I hire a sweet young woman to tidy up, she’d up and get married on me. Where would I be then?”

  Casey crossed her arms and swept her gaze about the office. “I think better than where you are now.”

  “I have an idea,” he said.

  She raised a brow. Oh, how she loved moments like these. “And it is?”

  Her wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed the tip of her nose. “I think I’d be better off to marry me a sweet young woman.”

  She laughed lightly. “Just to have someone clean for you? I think I remember Doc offering me a deal like that once, but I turned him down.”

  “I’m glad you did. Now I have you all to myself.” He lifted his hat and sent it soaring across the room. His lips brushed across her cheek and slipped just above her lips.

  “And this would be one of the sweet young woman’s duties?” she whispered.

  “Hmm. Lots of these. Several times a day.” His lips descended upon hers, warm and tender.

  “How would you get any work done?”

  “We’d live on love.”

  She should have stepped away and not let him see how his nearness caused her to forget what was right and proper. Instead, she slipped her hands to his face and wove her fingers into his hair.

  How many days had she waited for this intimacy? Yet she feared the depth of her love for Morgan. As his kiss deepened and she gave into the feelings swirling through her mind and body, all the doubts and mistrust faded.

  Morgan’s arms tightened around her. Suddenly a swarm of memories blackened the moment. She remembered Jenkins grabbing her and bruising her lips with his vile mouth—the same mouth that had ordered good people killed.

  Casey struggled to press her hands into Morgan’s chest. She trembled. Her gaze flew to his face, and her heart begged for understanding. She loved this man, but she was afraid of what passion might do to him.

  His face flushed, and he released her. “What’s wrong?”

  The words refused to form. “I’m afraid.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

  “Jenkins.” He spat the word like rotten food.

  “Yes.” She picked up his hat and handed it to him.

  “What else?”

  I can’t tell him I’m afraid of him—that his good temperament might not be true. He’ll think I’m throwing him in the same lot with Jenkins. “Isn’t that enough?”

  “I love you,” he said. “I will not let Jenkins or anyone hurt you.”

  She stole a glimpse of his face, a mixture of sadness and tenderness. She despised herself, for she knew real love did not embrace fear and distrust.

  Chapter 24

  After the Rainers’ family traveled back to Oregon, Sarah steadily declined and grew totally dependent upon Casey and the reverend. Casey applied salve to the bedsores and did her best to keep the woman comfortable. She brewed herbal teas and tried every medicinal herb she’d ever learned from Franco, but nothing eased Sarah’s discomfort.

  No one spoke of it, but they all sensed the disease had progressed far beyond any cure.

  On a damp and dreary November day, the doctor arrived. A small, wiry man with a red-gray beard, he spoke in terms that Casey and the reverend understood. His past successes with patients who had diseases similar to Sarah’s had earned him a reputation of distinction.

  The doctor spent nearly two hours with Sarah while the reverend paced the parlor and Casey sat stiffly on the sofa watching him move from one emotion to another. His shoulders appeared to droop farther with each crossing of the room. Never had he looked more vulnerable.

  A silver teapot, Sarah’s best gold-rimmed china, and an intricately carved silver tray filled with lemon cakes sat on a small oaken table. Neither Casey nor the reverend felt the pangs of hunger or thirst. It was merely a form of hospitality extended to the physician.

  When at last the doctor joined them in the parlor, the lines on his face clearly indicated the diagnosis. “Let’s sit down and discuss your wife’s condition.”

  “Would you like for me to leave?” Casey rose to her feet.

  The reverend motioned for her to stay. “No, I’d like for you to hear this, too.” He turned his attention to the doctor. “I’ve known for a long time my Sarah was dying. I just need for you to confirm it. From the look on your face, I see there is nothing you can do.”

  The doctor cleared his throat. “As a man of God, you already know the Lord doesn’t always answer our prayers the way we’d like.”

  “I want her free of pain. If she can’t be healed, then let her die without suffering.”

  The doctor folded his hands and leaned closer to the reverend. “The disease has progressed rapidly since the first time you wrote me. The only alternative is to use medication to numb its effects. I talked with Sarah for quite some time about this, and she prefers to refrain from taking anything until the pain becomes unbearable. She doesn’t want to spend her remaining days asleep.”

  The reverend nodd
ed, and his hands trembled. “How long do you think she has?”

  “It’s difficult to say, two to three months at the most. Your wife is a fighter, and she will hold on to every drop of life for as long as she can. I am sorry, sir. It would have been much easier to give you good news. I’d like to leave laudanum for those times when she desperately needs relief. After all, peace is what we all want for her.”

  “Is there anything else we can do?” The reverend’s drawn features tugged at Casey’s heart.

  “I think you and the young lady are already doing everything possible. Sarah loves you both, and the decision concerning the medication took much deliberation. She understands the extreme tension existing here in the home and feels guilty for causing it. I admire her courage and faith, as I believe you do.” The doctor shifted his bag to the other hand, then stood.

  The two men shook hands, and the reverend thanked him for coming. Casey excused herself, knowing the fee and payment needed to be addressed. The grandfather clock chimed its harsh reminder of time slipping away.

  She mounted the stairs to Sarah’s room and knocked lightly. When no response came, she slipped her fingers around the door and gently pushed it open. Sarah lay sleeping, her face calm with no trace of pain.

  Poor thing, the examination must have hurt her terribly. Casey folded the quilt around Sarah’s neck and bent to kiss the pale, wrinkled forehead. My life has been a long, strange road. I never imagined nursing outlaws would lead me to nursing a godly woman like Sarah. She pulled a rocker close to the bed and remembered doing the same for Morgan when he nearly died in Vernal.

  Her mind wandered to what Morgan was attempting to do for her. Clearing her name . . . a pardon from the state of Texas . . . freedom. At times it all sounded like a dream. He worked night and day on her case. He never complained. He never demanded anything in return. His bad temperament vanished the same day he told her about Jenkins killing his wife. But she waited as though he might explode at their next meeting. The old fears about violent men had taken root and seemed to overshadow her every moment with him. It wasn’t fair to Morgan, but they were there nevertheless. If only she could trust him. Why couldn’t she accept the changed man and stop holding back her love?

  Shaking her head to rid her mind of the past, she concentrated on her prayers for the reverend and Sarah.

  I will never forget all the wonderful things the reverend and Sarah have done for me. Casey leaned back in the rocker and massaged her arms. Oh, how I want to see Sarah and the reverend to the end before anything else happens.

  *****

  Morgan wrote until his wrist throbbed and his arm felt like tiny splinters had embedded in his skin. For days he’d muddled through law books and made notes of the items pertinent to Casey’s case. He’d posted correspondence back east to renowned attorneys who had tried similar cases and cleared their clients’ names. A letter went out to Doc and explained what was going on. Another letter was sent to Hank and Maude Stevens in Deer Creek.

  Casey. Her defense, her acquittal, haunted him night and day. He believed in her innocence with all his being, yet something was still missing in her defense.

  He went to sleep deliberating the case and woke as though he’d been up all night. His nightmares about Kathleen now bore the image of Casey. And for that reason, he could not sit idle for fear this might be the day Jenkins rode into town.

  The outlaw had caught up with her before. He could find her again. And what of Tim? When Morgan’s thoughts and worries overwhelmed him, he dug into the work, and when he could do no more, he rode out to the ranch and helped Grant. Seemed like he and God were having a constant conversation.

  One evening, Casey and Morgan spoke quietly in the parsonage’s parlor while Sarah slept and the reverend read in his study.

  “You’re wanted for a train robbery and a bank job with Jenkins during the time after you left Vernal.”

  “Ben pointed that out to me. I was far from civilization during those holdups. I wonder if Doc’s testimony will help.”

  Morgan smiled. “I think he’d do just about anything for you. Made me jealous a few times. He’ll vouch for you risking your life to keep me alive and your desire to start fresh. As soon as we get the letters, I’ll stick them in a lock box. And don’t forget the reverend. A character reference from him is crucial to your defense. Mama is writing one too.”

  “What about the seven years I rode with the gang?” Casey said. “That’s fact, Morgan, and I don’t believe any judge would believe I did nothing during that time. Besides, I simply ignored what they were doing.”

  “I’m researching those things. Give me time. Our case has to be perfect, no room for error. I’m looking at the charges from every angle.”

  “I’m just nervous. The only other person who could testify on my behalf is Rose.”

  “Rose?”

  “She owns a brothel in Denver. Not exactly a model citizen.” She stood from the parlor sofa and walked across the room. “I tried life her way once, but I couldn’t handle one night. I should be glad Jenkins didn’t sell me to her.”

  “You don’t have to tell me any of this.”

  “I know, but I’m sure the thought has crossed your mind.”

  “What I want is you and me as man and wife. And you won’t marry me until I have your name cleared and Jenkins behind bars.” He attempted to sound light, but so much weighed on his mind.

  What about the other crimes of which Casey had no proof of innocence? The whole explanation surrounding her alleged criminal acts rested in her own credibility. And he had to prove it. He’d lost Kathleen. He couldn’t lose Casey.

  *****

  Casey finished ironing the last shirt for the reverend. She inspected it again before hanging it with the others. The overflowing basket stacked with clothing for Sarah, the reverend, and herself had taken most of the morning to finish. Glancing around the kitchen, she laughed aloud at the articles hanging from every peg and knob available. A bit of breeze blew in through the back door and played with one of Sarah’s gowns as though some invisible lady danced inside. My, how Sarah would love to see this.

  Periodically she checked on Sarah, who had tossed fitfully during the night. Earlier, she’d requested laudanum and now rested under its soothing effects. Casey saw her friend’s strength dwindle and the need for pain medication increase. True to his word, the reverend remained close by his wife’s side. Together they savored their precious remaining time together. Even now, he wrote his sermon by her bedside, where he waited for her to waken and share whatever dream had lured her from the sleeping hours.

  Stepping out onto the back porch, Casey drank in the fall freshness. Yellow mums nodded in the late morning sun. She loved this time of year as though it were a resting time before winter. She wondered if Sarah felt the same.

  More than eight months had passed since she’d left Jenkins. She wanted to believe he’d given up on finding her and that some other woman had replaced her and caused him to forget his hatred.

  A knock at the door interrupted her musings, and she hurried to answer it.

  Ben stood in the doorway, hat in hand. The lines around his eyes indicated his weariness. “Can we talk?”

  “Yes, of course. Come on in.”

  Apprehension washed over her. She stood back as he made his way inside and on to the parlor, where she offered him a chair. “I’d rather stand, if you don’t mind.”

  “Ben, am I in trouble?”

  “I’m not sure. Got word on recent activity of Jenkins and his gang.”

  “Where are they?”

  “Last seen in New Mexico. Rumor is Jenkins and Tim split. A couple of the men went with Tim.”

  A few faces crossed her mind—those loyal to her brother. “I’m not surprised. Jenkins and Tim barely tolerated each other. Tim doesn’t like taking orders. Never did. Where did you hear this?”

  “Lawman from Austin. He’s staying at the boardinghouse tonight. Probably best for you to lie low until he ri
des out.”

  She studied his face and the way he worried the brim of his hat. “What else, Ben?”

  “Rumors are Jenkins refused to give up his search for you. Tim wanted it ended.”

  “So I’m no safer from Jenkins than I was eight months ago.”

  Ben moistened his lips. “Looks that way. And Tim’s not riding with him to protect you.”

  “He has his own priorities. My guess is he saw Jenkins passing up too many chances to bring in money. Where did your friend get his information?”

  “A fella who used to ride with the Daltons.” He glanced about the parlor. “When’s Morgan going to have your case ready?”

  “We’re meeting on Friday morning to go over it all.”

  “I’m afraid we’re running out of time.”

  She nodded. “Does your lawman friend suspect I’m in these parts?”

  “He thinks you might be in Galveston. I haven’t told Morgan.”

  “I will.” She swallowed hard.

  “I’m wondering if you need to hide out until all of this is over.”

  “And desert Sarah? She hasn’t long for this world, and I can’t leave her.”

  “Even if it costs you your life?”

  Casey forced a smile. “I’d rather go to my grave knowing I did something decent than run again.”

  “There’s something I want to say. Now is as good a time as any.” His black mustache lifted in a half smile. “When you came down front that Sunday in church, I thought it strange a woman nursing the preacher’s wife was not saved. Then when I figured out who you were and heard your story, I realized you had left that part of your life behind. Folks who know you respect you. And I’m one of them. I intend to write a letter testifying on your behalf for Morgan.” He shrugged. “It might make a difference.”

  Casey felt a surge of emotion. She blinked several times. “Thank you, Ben. I’m sure it will make a difference. Right now I’m trying to convince Morgan to let me share what I know with the federal marshals.”

  “Every outlaw in the country will be after you then.”