Warren nodded. “Yes, and show her that. For, if you don’t, the anger and disillusionment will not be all your own.”
Alistair rubbed at his forehead. “Is this the advice ye give to all yer clients? Doesna seem very lawyerly to me.”
Warren laughed. “No, this sort of meddling I save for friends.” He watched Alistair with concern. “I understand you are confused by the report of the warrant for her arrest, but so far it is only a report.” He raised an eyebrow. “Besides, you know she isn’t a murderess as the man she purportedly killed is in town.”
Alistair’s gaze was filled with embarrassment. “She has every right to be as upset with me. When she hears the rumors about Helen Jameson and me …” He frowned at the flash of anger and hurt in Warren’s gaze.
“What rumors?” Warren choked out.
“Accordin’ to her mother, I’m courtin’ the lass.” Alistair huffed out a frustrated breath. “God help me.”
“Helen’s not that bad.” Warren’s protest earned a confused stare from Alistair.
“No, but the mother is. I canna imagine takin’ on the mother, even if I wanted the daughter, which I do no’.” He shivered. “Bluidy small towns and their rumors.”
Warren chuckled as he relaxed into his chair. “Seems like you have your hands full, Alistair. I don’t envy you.”
The noncommittal grunt sounded through the room. “So ye’ll help me? I canna promise fast payment, but I will pay ye. The livery provides steady income, but it doesna mean I’m rich.”
Warren nodded. “I’d already agreed to help you when I spoke with Cailean. And it’s a good thing he came to visit me when he did. A few members of the school board arrived not long after his visit and were quite vocal in their disappointment when I refused to represent them.”
Alistair canted forward, his eyes lit with curiosity. “Do ye ken if they intend to seek retribution from Leticia and me?”
Warren nodded. “Before I was able to inform them that I was already hired as your lawyer, your accusers reviewed their grievances against you with me.” Warren shrugged, unable to hide an amused smile. “Their case has little substance. It’s supposition and want. Nothing based on fact.” He rolled his eyes again. “The entire idea shows their naiveté and lack of legal knowledge. They have no evidence, no facts that prove you had any prior knowledge of her deceit.”
“How can ye prove that?”
“They admitted as much to me. The fools,” Warren said with a sigh. “Besides, I’ve already interviewed a half-dozen witnesses at the wedding ceremony and have their testimony as to your shock and rage. It will only help prove your innocence, should it progress any further. I suspect it won’t.”
“Why? They seem determined.” Alistair took a deep breath and released it as he battled the tension and worry in his gut.
Warren rested his forearms on his desk and chuckled. “Even after I told them twice how I could not represent them as I represented the MacKinnon family, they still thought to sway me to their side, wanting me to take on their case pro bono.” At Alistair’s confused expression, he explained, “They wanted me to work free of charge for the good of the community to rid it of those who would sully the reputations of the residents and the quality of life found here.”
Alistair snorted. “If they truly believe that, they should focus on the Boudoir and the saloons, not on me and the former schoolteacher.”
Warren nodded. “Even after declaring myself as your legal representative, by the time they’d spewed all this information, I had learned what I needed to.” His eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “I always enjoy denying that Jameson woman.”
“And Tobias,” Alistair muttered.
“Yes. That was an added bonus,” Warren said. “Thus I would not worry overmuch about a lawsuit. I think it is a lot of hot air and would be thrown out of court should it progress that far.” He squinted as he smiled wryly. “I could always threaten them with a lawsuit for defamation of character.” He chuckled. “I’d love to see them sweat.”
“Do ye think that’s necessary?”
“No, but, if they become more of a nuisance, it’s something I can do.”
Alistair sat in silence with his head bowed as he thought through all Warren had told him. “Will ye continue to be my lawyer? I have a sense I’ll need more of yer aid afore this is all over. That husband of hers seems wily, an’ I dinna trust him.”
Warren nodded. “With pleasure. And we can work out a payment plan.” He shook Alistair’s hand and rose as Alistair stood to leave. “Think about what I said.”
“Aye, I think of little else,” he rasped. He slapped his hat on his head and nodded once before he slipped out the door.
Leticia heard the jingle of the bell and entered the storefront of Annabelle’s bakery. A slight hitch in her step betrayed her displeasure at her next customer’s identity, but she pasted on a bright smile. “May I help you, Mrs. Jameson?”
“Yes, I’d like a loaf of bread and three cookies.”
Leticia placed the items in her basket and held her hand out for money. “These are not on credit, Mrs. Jameson. Miss Annabelle doesn’t accept credit, as you well know.” She wriggled her fingers of one hand while keeping her other hand firmly clasped around the handle of the basket. After a severe glare, Mrs. Jameson dug out the requisite coins.
“Here you are, smug and secure in your little world, living with your daughter in a back room off the charity of one who should despise you.” Mrs. Jameson took as deep a breath as her corset would allow. “Have you no decency?”
“If that is all, Mrs. Jameson?” Leticia asked, whirling to return to the back of the store.
“Are you foolish enough to pine for a man who is already courting another?” She cackled as her comment caused Leticia to freeze. Mrs. Jameson’s smile broadened as she saw the devastation and despair Leticia could not hide as she turned to face Mrs. Jameson again. “You are a fool to believe you wouldn’t be found out for your deception. And even more so to believe a man would be constant.” She leaned forward as though imparting a great secret. “They never are.”
“If I may inquire, who is he courting?” She cleared her throat as it thickened, and she battled tears she refused to shed in front of Mrs. Jameson.
Mrs. Jameson thrust out her bosom and smiled with triumph. “My daughter. Yes, Helen has finally done something worthwhile with her life.” A sigh of pleasure escaped. “When I think of that fine house we will live in …”
“Are you certain Mr. MacKinnon is intent on your daughter?” Leticia whispered.
“They were seen alone in the woods.” She speared Leticia with a knowing stare. “You know what that means. No man would conspire to meet with a young woman of good standing alone without having honorable intentions.”
Leticia froze and then nodded. “Of course. How fortunate for them both.”
Mrs. Jameson clapped her hands together. “It’s almost too wondrous for words.” Her gaiety faded as she glared at Leticia. “Don’t believe for one moment that, by marrying my daughter, the town’s desire to have a full restitution of funds from you has wavered. You are in arrears, missus.”
“I am in no such thing until a judge declares it,” Leticia snapped. “And, unlike your most fervent desire, you will never be judge and jury of those living in this town.”
Mrs. Jameson reared back as though struck. “You have no right for righteous indignation. Not after the scandal and deception you perpetrated for years.”
“Just as you have no right to judge when you do not understand the full story. But then we all know you only attend church for the social prestige you believe it brings you. Not because you actually heed the preacher’s message to practice charity.”
Mrs. Jameson turned as red as a raspberry and puffed up her chest. “If it is the last thing I do, I will ensure you and your brat are out of this town by the end of summer. With my daughter married to Alistair MacKinnon.” She spun on her heel, slamming the door shut behind her.
Leticia collapsed, leaning against the wall behind her, her knees shaking so that she could barely hold herself up. As another customer entered the store, she pushed herself upright and forced a welcoming smile.
That afternoon, after the bakery had closed, she walked with Hortence to the schoolyard. As it was summer vacation, the yard was empty, but there was open space with a fence around it. “Go ahead and play, my darling, but stay within the fence.”
She sat on the school steps, watching as Hortence ran around, playing with imaginary friends. Leticia stood as she saw Josiah Fry on the other side of the fence.
He watched Hortence with disinterest before focusing on Leticia.
“Why are you here?” She clamped her jaw shut as her voice quavered.
“Do you believe I would allow that man who is no relation of yours to prevent me from speaking to my own wife?” He walked through the entrance to the schoolyard, coming to a halt in front of her. “You are more beautiful than when we met.”
“I have no interest in your useless attempts at flattery. We both know your words are meaningless.” She jerked her head away when he attempted to stroke a finger down her cheek. “You have no right to touch me.”
“Except for the rights of a husband. I’ve been too long without mine.” He watched as she blushed but met his gaze. “I fear you’ve been far from chaste since last we were together.”
“How dare you imply I have acted in such a manner. I have a daughter, and she will always come first.” She faltered as she backed up one riser on the steps away from him, allowing her to almost meet his height and granting her a bit of distance from him.
He laughed. “I’m certain, if you had wanted to be with him, you would have found a way.”
“He is an honorable man!”
“Ah, he’s foolish then? Doesn’t take what he wants?” He smiled as he leaned forward, his smile broadening as he saw trepidation in her gaze.
“Unlike you.”
He chuckled. “I knew I wanted you, and I had you. You should be thankful I deigned to marry you.” He sobered. “If you had stayed with me, we could have had tremendous success. Neither of us would be eking out a living in backwater towns. We would have mansions and servants to do our bidding.”
She shook her head as her voice emerged laced with scorn. “You have always deluded yourself with your ideas of what you could do. What you would obtain. I am not obtainable. I am not yours.”
He leaned forward, backing her up until she hit the door to the locked schoolhouse. “You will return with me. For, if you don’t, I will ensure you never see your daughter again.”
Her indignant flush faded as though she suffered a tremendous blood loss, and she gripped the door handle to remain standing. “Your threats will never come true.” She paled further as he leaned forward and whispered in her ear.
“What will the townsfolk say when they learn about the warrant taken out for your arrest?”
She shivered at the blatant malice in his voice.
“Will they rally about you when they hear you left me for dead, covered in blood, or will they abandon you?” His triumphant gaze homed into her panicked eyes as she pushed against him to free herself from his touch.
“I never did anything to cause you to bleed!” She shoved again, and he backed up a step.
“You should know by now a woman’s word is worth little. A woman who has been found out as a liar has even less credibility.” He hooked his thumb in his suspenders as he rocked back on his heels. “Why would anyone believe you?”
She gasped and wrapped shaking arms around herself.
“You know what I want.” His implacable gaze met hers. “Don’t defy me, or you’ll regret the consequences.”
She jerked back, slamming her head against the closed school door in an unsuccessful attempt to avoid him stroking her neck. He gave her a jaunty salute before turning away and heading into town and the saloons.
She collapsed to her knees as tears coursed down her cheeks. After a few moments, she calmed enough to look for Hortence who was nowhere in sight. Leticia leaped to her feet, running down the schoolhouse steps as her frantic gaze darted around the area in front of the school. She raced around the entire building and searched inside the empty privy, but Hortence was nowhere in sight. “Oh, my darling, where are you?” Leticia ran from the yard, her gaze frantic as she searched for her daughter.
Chapter 9
Jack Renfrew entered the livery, his gait stooped, although with no hesitation as he approached Alistair and Cailean. Faded to a pale dun color, his buckskin pants and jacket were well-worn. A subtle scent of animal musk clung to him. Although he had spent years working as a trapper, he had settled down on a decent plot of land in the valley with mountain access nearly a decade before as the land filled with settlers and cattle. The townsfolk knew the change in seasons by Jack’s visits to town. “Hello, boys,” he said, spitting an amber-colored splat of saliva and chewing tobacco onto a pile of dirtied straw they had just mucked from the stalls.
Cailean smiled and shook his hand. “Good to see you, sir.” He took a break from work and leaned on his pitchfork.
“No need for formalities between us,” Jack said, clasping Alistair’s hand now. “Heard about some trouble at the church last month.”
Alistair stiffened before nodding. “Aye. The wedding ceremony was interrupted. I dinna ken when it will occur.”
Jack pinned Alistair with a knowing gaze. “Well, I wouldn’t let some interloper stand between me and my woman. It’s how I won the affection of John’s mother, God rest her soul.” He paused as he met Alistair’s tormented gaze. “If called for, I’d meet mischief with mischief.”
Alistair studied his friend before grunting, the sound noncommittal. “What brings ye in?” He looked behind Jack. “Where are yer horses and yer son?”
“He’s tending them outside.”
Alistair grunted again, this time in disgust and marched outside. Soon he reentered with a black stallion, an appaloosa, and two pack mules along with John Runs from Bears Renfrew, Jack’s son. Alistair led each horse into a vacant stall, handing a bridle to John, and put the mules together in another.
Jack watched as Alistair and John each curried a horse and discussed their favorite techniques for caring for horses. His amber eyes shone with pride as he watched his son.
“What brings you to town?” Cailean asked. “I know you rarely like to leave your land, and I didn’t think we’d see you until after trapping season.”
Jack straightened his hunched shoulders. “I have a business proposition. I think your brother should be privy to what I’ll say. John knows my thoughts and has come to agree with them.”
Cailean flicked a glance to Alistair as he listened to their conversation and saw him nod in agreement. “This sounds serious.”
“That’s ’cause it is,” Jack said. “John can keep an eye on things here while we talk. He’ll come for you if the need arises.”
Cailean squinted as he studied Jack. “Someday you’ll have to tell me the story of how a learned man becomes a trapper in the wilds of the West and married to an Indian woman.”
Jack laughed. “That’s a story for another day.”
Alistair joined them, leaving John with the horses, and followed them across the small yard to the house. They entered the kitchen, and he poured cups of coffee from the pot left on the stove before joining them at the table. He tilted his head and heard the soothing sound of Sorcha humming as she spun yarn upstairs in her room. “What’s this business ye have for us? We are no’ in a place to expand.”
Jack blew on his coffee but refrained from taking a sip. “The bald truth is I’m dying. I’ve seen the doc here, and he confirmed what I know.” He half smiled with appreciation as the MacKinnon brothers remained quiet. “I can’t eat anymore, except for a few bites here and there. Doc thinks I have a mass in my stomach.”
“How long do ye have?” Alistair asked, the coffee in front of him forgotten
.
“Weeks maybe.” His eyes gleamed with passionate rage. “I thought I’d live long enough to see things change. To see prejudice ease.” He frowned as the brothers watched him with confusion. “You know what it’s like to be thrown off your land. To lose everything.”
Cailean shared a quick confused look with Alistair and nodded. “Aye, we do. We lost our land to the British during the Clearances. It’s why we’re here and not on the Isle of Skye in Scotland.”
Jack’s gaze gleamed with triumph. “I thought you’d understand. John will lose everything the minute I die. No matter that I am his father and a white man and that I would leave all I have to him. The law sees him as Native, and they can’t own land.”
Alistair frowned. “How do we have anything to do with this?”
“I’m selling my homestead, my land, everything. It’s final in two days.” He sighed. “Well, almost everything. I’m keeping a few horses and some of the trapping gear.” He rubbed at his forehead. “John and I will live in a small cabin I’ve rented here in town, back near the lawyer’s house.”
“Seems ye have it all planned out,” Alistair muttered. “What worries ye?”
“My fear is that John will still have difficulties inheriting the money I’d leave him.” His lips turned up in a wry grimace. “You know what a miserly, prejudiced man Mr. Finlay is. He barely allows me entrance into his bank, never mind John. The money would rot, or worse, in there before John would ever see it again.”
Cailean shook his head in confusion. “Just give it to him then.”
Jack rolled his eyes as he tapped at the side of his coffee cup. “And leave him open to every fortune hunter? They’d try to rob him blind within a week, killing him if necessary, and I know the sheriff would do little to come to John’s aid.”
Alistair frowned as he shook his head again. “I beg yer pardon, but I dinna ken how we can help ye other than to stand by John as best we can.”
Jack looked from Cailean and then to Alistair. “I want to buy him a share of the livery.” He met the brothers’ shocked gazes. “He’s as good with horses as Alistair.”
Montana Grit Page 10
