As the rest of them flinched at Elizabeth’s high pitched whine, he remained calm and
cool, no doubt as her uncle, he was used to her screech. “Go to the kitchen and make coffee. Myron, you alone may join us.” His orders given, he led the way into the parlor.
“We don’t have time for this nonsense, sheriff,” Coral’s father protested.
“You’ll take the time, or face a kidnapping charge,” Jeb said. “I’m not convinced you shouldn’t appear before the judge anyway for taking Mrs. Magnusson against her will, even if through a third party. If you paid them to do so, you are culpable, as much as those fools Earl and Merl Cartwright. They nearly strangled Nettie, the saloon’s cook.”
Her father looked surprised upon hearing that and glanced at her briefly, before turning back to the sheriff. “They acted on their own in that. I gave no such orders. They were to retrieve my daughter, nothing else.”
“We can sort them out later.” Sheriff Milford said from the door. “They aren’t going anywhere locked up in my jail house.”
“Can we get on with this?” Harvey demanded. “We’ve got a stage to catch.”
“Remind me who you are?” Jeb asked, his brow arched casually.
“Harvey Dixon, the fiancé. I’ve got the marriage contract, right here.” Harvey began rooting around in his vest pocket.
“Which I didn’t sign.”
“I also have her father’s proxy.” Harvey passed both documents to the sheriff.
“I gave no proxy. If it’s signed, it’s a forgery!” Coral insisted.
“Don’t matter,” Evan announced. “I’ve got an order of guardianship that trumps the proxy.” This time her papa was the one to produce folded legal sized documents from his vest pocket.
“Guardianship? She’s nearly thirty years old!” Bo exclaimed.
He held them out for Sheriff Justice. “You’ll see that it’s all in order, signed by a judge in New York.”
Jeb read for a moment, lifting his head to look first at Coral, then at Bo. “This claims she lacks capacity.”
“What does that mean?” Coral asked, though she suspected she knew.
“They are saying you are not of sound mind,” Bo stated, his features tight with anger. “As such, they could contend that you were incapable of entering into any kind of contract or agreement, which includes marriage.”
“Exactly,” Evan said, inclining his head. “I’m impressed a rustic has such legal acumen. As such, you understand we can have this marriage declared invalid.”
“Papa.” Tears welled in her eyes as humiliation swept through her. “How can you say that? I am not feeble minded.”
He glanced at her first, then swept through the others, the Shady Springs sheriff, Jeb, until finally, his gaze landed on Bo. “She is very high-strung, I’m sure you’ve noticed. Just like my Annalise, her mother. Always impulsive, running away without thought to her safety, or the consequences of her actions.”
Coral felt Bo stiffen at her side. He knew better than anyone her habit of fleeing first and thinking later.
“How else do you explain a woman traveling to California alone?” her father went on, “without the first thought to her survival, or a plan for her livelihood?”
“I had secured a husband.”
He threw up his hands. “As a mail-order bride? That crazy plan also went awry. She left a small fortune behind that would have seen her set for a lifetime, but she up and ran without forethought, as always. Then when she arrived without means, her solution was to become a whore.” He grimaced. “A woman who has always been circumspect and proper, raised to honor chastity outside of marriage, never would she consider such a thing if in her right mind.” He glanced at her sadly, then took in the entire gathering. “The doctors think the trauma of George dying suddenly on top of her, in the—” He stopped to clear his throat. “In the middle of the marital act, shall we say, was too much for her fragile constitution. We’ll take her home and give her the care she needs. Harvey here will make her a good husband, look after her and protect her.”
“That is not going to happen,” Bo said between gritted teeth. “Coral is my wife and I’ll see to whatever she needs.”
“Your marriage to Carissa is invalid, sir.” He waved his hand to the papers the sheriff still held. “These papers declare it so.”
“Papa, please. Don’t do this. You know it’s not true.” She spun and grasped Bo’s shirt in her fists. “Please, Bo. Don’t let them take me away.”
“Hush, raring, of course, I won’t,” he murmured as his arms came around her and he pulled her against his chest, but not before she saw the uncertainty that had crept into his expression. Bo looked toward Jebidiah who was poring over the papers. “Jeb, she’s an adult, surely he can’t do this.”
“These seem in order, I’m afraid. But we need an expert.” He asked his deputy, “When will Barlow be back?”
“He’s not expected until Monday.”
“Unacceptable,” Evan bit out. “Our ship sails on Saturday.”
“Don’t let us stop you, however, Coral stays here. I doubt a New York judge has authority in California,” Bo stated, his arm tightening around her tense shoulders. “My wife and I will take this before our local authority to make a determination on what is valid, particularly her signatures.”
“Sheriff, those papers are legitimate, I assure you.”
“I’m sure they are in the state of New York, Mr. Fulwiler. But I agree with Mr. Magnusson; we’ll need to wait for our local attorney, or better yet, our circuit judge, who is familiar with California statutes before any decisions on Mrs. Magnusson’s capacity, or lack thereof, are made.”
“This situation is insane,” Coral protested, her voice high-pitched and bordering on hysteria. “But I assure you, I am not.”
All eyes turned her way. Breaking down into a blubbering ninny or having a screaming fit, both of which she was wont to do, wouldn’t help her case. She tried to calm, leaning into Bo for support as he bowed his head and said low in her ear, “It will be all right, raring. I’ll see to that.”
“I beg to differ,” her papa replied. “You’ll see to nothing as far as my daughter is concerned.” He dug inside his coat pocket again and pulled out another paper. “I didn’t want to have to do this, but you’ve forced my hand. You may not know that Mr. Crankshaw works at the local post office, he was helpful enough to provide us with this.” He unfolded a heavily inked poster and handed it to the sheriff. “It seems your would-be husband is a wanted criminal, my dear.”
Jeb’s brows snapped together as he studied the flyer briefly, then his head twisted and he looked at Bo.
“What lies have you come up with now!” she cried.
“No lies, daughter. The man you call husband is wanted for attempted murder.”
Beside her, Bo was quiet. Angling her head sharply she looked up at him. “Tell them it’s not true!”
“I’m afraid I cannot, min skatt,” Bo said softly.
Coral inhaled sharply, her mind reeling at this latest blow.
As if from far away, she heard him address Jeb. “The statute of limitations was up two years ago.”
“No,” she whispered, swaying slightly as her hands fisted in his shirt. “I can’t believe this of you, Bo. I won’t.”
“It’s true. He beat a man close to death,” her papa put in. “Crippled him and then fled Boston rather than face up to his crimes.”
“You know nothing of what happened,” Bo snapped.
“I have newspaper clippings of the investigation.”
“Do you have clippings that say the man was selling my mother’s body on the docks for a pittance? And when she didn’t earn her keep fast enough, he beat her within an inch of her life.”
Coral gasped, staring up at him in horror.
“One night when she didn’t meet her quota, he beat her so severely one of her ribs broke and punctured her lung. I treated him to a taste of his own medicine. Except if I’d done th
e job as well as he did, he would have died like my mother.”
“Oh, Bo,” Coral moaned. It all made sense, his hesitancy to discuss anything in his past.
“I’d have killed him, with pleasure, but some sailors pulled me off of him. It was no more than he deserved.”
Jeb nodded. “That’s good enough for me.”
“What? He just admitted to attempted murder.”
The sheriff handed the wanted poster back to her father. “This is fourteen years old, Fulwiler. Well beyond the statute of limitations on assault. And it sounds like what he did was a defensible act on a flesh peddler. That’s that.”
Her father turned to Sheriff Milford. “This is your jurisdiction. Surely you can’t mean to let a violent man like Magnusson walk free.”
“He is not violent!” Coral cried.
“The man has shown no violent tendencies in the time I’ve known him,” Jeb said.
“Didn’t he spend a night in your jail for a bar brawl recently, Justice?” Harvey, who had been looking on silently through it all, interjected this quietly.
Milford turned on Jeb. “Is this true?”
“Yes, but no charges were filed and he made restitution. And, it was the one and only time I’ve had trouble from him since becoming sheriff years ago.” He glanced at Coral. “A crime of passion, I’d say.”
“Which seems to be a trend,” her father observed drily.
The Shady Springs sheriff became quiet, his mouth settling into a grim line before coming to a conclusion. “I think we need to bring this before the judge for a decision.” He turned to Bo. “You’ll have to come with me until we can get that arranged.” Looking to her father, he added, “The both of you will need to stay on for the hearing as well.”
Her father nodded, a self-assured smile on his lips.
“This isn’t fair,” Coral exclaimed.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, there are too many variables for me to let this slide.” He stepped to the door and opened it. “Mr. Magnusson,” he said, while holding it wide.
“Give me a moment with my wife, please. Then I’ll come peaceably.”
“Of course.”
Bo took her elbow and pulled her aside. “You can’t remain here, Coral. I want you to go with Jeb. He’ll find you a safe place to stay. I don’t want you near your father or Harvey, and least of all with the Crankshaws.”
“I can’t believe this is happening,” she whispered, feeling numb.
He put his hand beneath her chin and gently angled her face up to his. “Be strong for me, sweetheart. We’ll get this ironed out.”
Her eyes filled with tears of frustration. “I knew it was too good to be true. A month of happiness was all I was allowed with you. I’m so sorry, Bo.”
His fingers tightened. “Stop that nonsense. You are not cursed and when we get through this, I’m going to prove that to you with years full of happiness.”
A single hot tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. He kissed it away adding in a low whisper for her ears only. “Whatever you do, Carissa Anne Magnusson, do not run away from me again. If you do, I’ll come for you and your backside will pay the price. You will obey me on this.”
She nodded, sucking in a shaky breath. “I know I’ve promised before that I wouldn’t; this time I mean it. You’re stuck with me, husband, and I’m going to find a way to get us out of this.”
“That’s my girl,” he murmured, his lips brushing her forehead. “I love you, älskling.”
"I love you too, Bo.”
A throat clearing ended their brief goodbye.
”See to her for me, Jeb,” Bo said to his friend as he walked to the door.
”I will, have no doubt.”
”That is hardly necessary,” her papa declared. ”I’ll see to her.”
”No, you won’t,” Coral said adamantly, moving determinedly to Jeb’s side. Tears burned behind her eyelids as she watched the door close behind her husband.
Chapter Sixteen
The judge that had jurisdiction in Shady Springs had a reputation for being tough, yet fair. And, with an uncommon piece of good luck, Adam Barlow, the attorney from Culpepper Cove, was passing through town on his way home and was available to represent both her and Bo in the proceedings.
On an afternoon three days later, she met with the young attorney at length prior to the hearing that was scheduled for the following day. By her side, looking big and strangely at ease on the damask upholstered chair, was Jeb, who had proven his friendship to Bo ten times over by standing by them both while he was once again behind bars. Also present was Jewel, who had come to town with Gabriel when word of their trouble had traveled back to town. From her seat on the tufted couch in the drawing room at the boarding house where Coral had taken a room, her hand clutched Jewel’s like a lifeline. Gabe stood tall and silent behind them, showing his full support.
They all watched as Mr. Barlow studied the documents through his wire-rimmed glasses. The crinkling of the papers as he turned them slowly, one by one, set her teeth on edge. She wanted to stand up and demand that he hurry, yet she contained her impatience, needing him to be thorough and build the best defense against the charges brought by her father.
At length, the attorney cleared his throat. “I think we can be confident that Mr. Magnusson is beyond the time limit for prosecution of the crime he was accused of. I have a wire from the New York state attorney who reports the victim has since passed on, but of natural causes, so he has no interest in pursuing the case. It will be a simple matter of the judge dismissing it an your name will be cleared.”
“That is excellent news,” Jewel murmured encouragingly.
Mr. Barlow looked up, peering at the gathering over his wire frames. “Yes, but that still leaves us with the question of the validity of the marriage contract and proxy, as well as the legality of Evan Fulwiler’s guardianship.” His brows gathered as he thumbed through the papers in front of him. He picked up one and read a passage, then shuffled again and reviewed another.
“These statements, Mrs. Magnusson, from both Dr. Norwood and Mr. Stapleton about an incident you had at the mercantile not long after your arrival support the behavior your father alleges, unfortunately. As does your leaving New York to travel alone on a four-month long journey to California, then your arrival here and subsequent employment at the Red Petticoat.”
“That shows I have poor judgment, not that I’m feeble minded.”
“I’m afraid that is up to the judge to decide. We have Dr. Anderson’s statement that your mental status appears sound, so we will, of course, challenge the New York judge’s decision. That he issued the order never having spoken with you is in our favor.”
Upon hearing that, Coral breathed easier and some of the tension left her shoulders. Jewel patted her hand in reassurance.
“There is another point you must consider.”
That quickly, she was on edge again. “How many more points can there be?” she exclaimed, slumping back against the settee.
“If it is determined that you were of sufficient capacity to enter into marriage, which makes it valid, that opens your husband up for a countersuit by your father.”
“How so? Bo had nothing to do with that bogus contract with Harvey.”
“In breach of the marriage contract, all of your assets fall to Harvey Dixon, a considerable sum as you know. Considering that a goodly portion of that is a dower amount your father provided, he, in turn, could sue your husband for recompense for the loss of those funds.”
“Judge Stone mentioned something like this, but I don’t understand.”
“He can go after Bo, Coral,” Gabe explained, “to reimburse him for what he lost to Harvey.”
“Most of that belongs to me.”
“Yes, but your father would have to pay the promised sum to Harvey.”
“This is confusing. How can that be if I didn’t sign the contract or proxy?”
“That would have to be determined in court, in New York.”
“Impossible. I’m not going back.”
Jeb jumped in here. “Then your father could go after Bo, his businesses, his horses and his land.”
She closed her eyes feeling utterly miserable.
“Bo won’t care, Coral,” Jeb went on. “He’d give everything, his last penny and the shirt off his back to have you.”
“How can I ask that of him? He has worked so hard to build a new life.”
Gabe’s hand curled over her shoulder. “Don’t go down that road, my dear. You know the man better than the rest of us, and he will not be pleased if you sacrifice yourself for the sake of an iron forge and a few horses.”
“They’re right, honey,” Jewel agreed. “You were ready to give up all of your wealth to be with him. How is it different when the shoe is on the other foot?”
* * *
Dusk had fallen, the silvery moon glimmering overhead when she climbed the steps to the Crankshaw home that evening. Driven to their doorstep, a place she had hoped to never see again, she came out of desperation and a determination to get through to her father, to convince him to let this go, once and for all. After taking a deep breath and blowing it out slowly, she lifted her clenched hand and rapped on the window. A few moments later, heels sounded on the floorboards inside.
Millicent opened the door, her already dour expression twisting into an unpleasant grimace when she saw her.
“What are you doing here? Haven’t you caused enough trouble?”
She bit her tongue, trying to prove she was a single-minded adult to the judge tomorrow. Clawing the bitter woman’s face and snatching her bald would not help demonstrate that.
“I would like to speak to my father, please.”
“We’re having supper.” Unbelievably, the woman started to shut the door in her face. Coral immediately stepped forward, keeping it from closing with her booted foot.
“Papa!” she called past the woman into the house. “I’d like to speak to you, please!”
“Millicent.” Her papa’s voice came first, then he appeared behind the spiteful woman. “I will speak with my daughter in the parlor. Don’t hold dinner for me.”
Claiming Coral (The Red Petticoat Saloon) Page 17
