by Sara Orwig
In the courtroom, he chose a bench in front where he could face Crystal. And where he could get to his rifle quickly. His revolver remained in place inside his coat at the small of his back. Turtle River waited with horses. Travis had the fastest horses, his bay and one of the blacks, tied in back of the courthouse. But he felt as if his heart would be torn from his body within the next few hours. He loved Crystal. He loved Jacob. He clenched his fists and wondered whether Crystal would feel a compunction to turn him in for the murder in Texas.
People began to file inside, and then it was time for court to convene. As the bailiff urged all to rise, Crystal entered.
The proceedings continued, and after lunch, Brett finally took the stand to tell his story. Aware that Travis’s gaze constantly rested on her, Crystal listened intently to Brett’s testimony. He caused such a stir when he said Slim had shot Kendrick that she had to have several men removed from the courtroom.
Rufus called three more witnesses: a man who worked for Whit Odell and two who had worked for Kendrick. All three testified that Odell and Kendrick had fought bitterly over water rights and that Odell had threatened Kendrick before and shot at him on two different occasions.
Finally, the lawyers gave their summations.
“Judge, we have three witnesses who testified to seeing the accused, Brett Dancer, robbing the body of Abner Kendrick only minutes after the three men heard a shot fired. They might as well have been upon the scene the entire time. Their testimony is conclusive. Other witnesses who worked for Abner Kendrick testified to leaving him only a short time earlier, leaving him alone with the accused, Brett Dancer. All these witnesses heard the fatal shot. Whit Odell, Slim Tipton, and Virgil Shank were the closest and got to the scene within minutes and found the accused, Brett Dancer, holding belongings of the deceased and standing over the body. He was the only man present, the only man with the opportunity and the means to kill Abner Kendrick. His motive was robbery. We have the word of three sworn witnesses. The prosecution believes the evidence shows conclusively that the accused is guilty of murder. I rest my case.”
Rufus had his turn. He paced the courtroom, beginning in a quiet voice. “Judge, the three witnesses were actually not present at the time of the shooting. It is a matter of their word against the word of my client. Yet, let us look at their testimony. Mr. Odell contradicted himself, saying the defendant was not holding his revolver and then saying that, yes, he was holding his revolver and finally saying, no, he was not holding his revolver. He concluded that the defendant was not holding his revolver,” Rufus repeated, “contradicting the testimony of the next so-called witness, Slim Tipton, who said my client was armed.
“Judge, this is not the only contradiction and inconsistency. The testimony of one witness had the deceased lying facedown while other testimony had him on his back. My client claims one of these witnesses is actually the man who fired the fatal shot.” Rufus looked at his audience and his voice rose in volume.
“While that man is not on trial here—only my client is on trial—the court has to determine who is telling the truth. These so-called witnesses for the prosecution do not have the same story. It isn’t small details that are getting twisted, but major elements that a man should remember in dire circumstances that end in murder.”
Rufus faced the judge, his voice ringing. “My client is telling the truth! He is an innocent man and his accusers do not have matching facts, a particular the court cannot overlook. The testimony does not make sense. My client was with two hands who worked for Abner Kendrick. When Abner Kendrick sent those men away, Kendrick was left with my client, Mr. Dancer. It would be senseless to pull a gun and kill his employer then when witnesses could easily place my client and Abner Kendrick together. My client would have to have known the shot could be heard for miles. What did he have to gain? Not as much as if he waited for his week’s pay! If he intended robbery, he would have taken advantage of safer, more lucrative opportunities. He had been working there several days. And his story is consistent,” Rufus exclaimed, gesturing accusingly at Slim Tipton. His smooth voice had escalated to a shout. “Whereas the so-called witnesses have not had the same story any two times!” He surveyed the courtroom audience, his hands gripping the railing between observers and participants.
“It is general knowledge that bitter feeling existed between Abner Kendrick and Whit Odell and between those men and their hired help. My client, however, was new to this area and harbored no such animosity. He would have had nothing but good feelings for the man who employed him.”
Rufus turned to the judge. “Your Honor, we are relying on the testimony of men who have been known to lie in this very courtroom, testimony that is not consistent and therefore suggests fabrication and lies. Do not sentence an innocent man so that other men may escape punishment. My client is innocent. The crime as related by these so-called witnesses is not logical, and my client truly had no motive. It would have been a poor time for robbery.
“This man, Brett Dancer is innocent!” Rufus shouted. “Listen to the truth.” He paused, his gaze moving from Crystal to the courtroom. “The defense rests.”
Clarence gave a brief rebuttal, reminding the judge that although the witnesses to the murder might have forgotten a few facts, their stories were basically the same.
Then it was up to Crystal.
She adjourned the court for an hour and went to her office, where—under guard—she would not be disturbed. She paced the room, re-examining the faulty testimony. None of it matched completely, and at least two of the witnesses were unreliable.
She gazed out the long, narrow window and reached a decision, questioning whether she was being guided by her heart or her head. She would give Brett Dancer his second chance. She would set him free, even though she might be placing her own life in danger. She squared her shoulders and returned to the courtroom.
Travis stared at her coolly. He looked at ease. A glance at him and no one would think he was set to spring into violent action, but she had no doubts. Wade Hinckel had placed himself across the aisle from Travis. Jed Larson sat beside him.
She banged her gavel for quiet and looked at the serious faces of her all-male audience. “I have heard the evidence presented and noted that the witnesses did not always agree. The parties in question had fought over water rights. It is the testimony of one man against three, but the three witnesses have not told convincing stories.”
She saw the slightest change in Travis. His chin raised, and he stared even more intently at her. And she heard the grumble that ran around the courtroom.
“Therefore, I hereby declare Brett Dancer not guilty of the murder of Abner Kendrick!”
Pandemonium broke loose. Men shouted and rushed forward. Travis sprang to action, knocking down Jed Larson and slugging Wade Hinckel. Travis spun and lunged for his rifle, firing it to stop the angry surge of a mob toward Brett. Brett already had one foot out a window and his revolver drawn.
Travis stepped to one side of the desk, his rifle aimed at the crowd, while Sheriff Hinckel regained his feet and yelled for everyone to keep calm. The sheriff raised his rifle, and two deputies moved forward, guns drawn.
Travis grabbed Crystal around the waist and yanked her with him. He shoved her to Brett, who lifted her out the window, took her hand, and yelled, “Run!”
Brett fired his revolver into the air and a crowd outside, moved back. Firing over the crowd again, Travis rushed behind Brett and Crystal as they dashed around the courthouse. A shot shattered a window beside Travis while the mob shouted and surged behind him.
Brett mounted the black. Travis swung Crystal up on his bay, holding her close while men spilled around the corner. Travis and Brett both fired into the air, and the crowd stopped. A shot lifted Brett’s hat from him head and sent it sailing into the dust.
“Get out of here!” Wade Hinckel yelled, stepping in front of the mob and waving his rifle at them.
“I resign!” Crystal cried, hoping the sheriff heard her.
Then all words were lost as Travis and Brett urged the horses to a gallop and raced out of town. She couldn’t talk because of the wind tearing at them and the pounding of hooves. After they had ridden out of town, Crystal glanced behind her. No one was riding after them, so perhaps Wade Hinckel and his deputies had stopped the mob.
While she clung to Travis, they galloped away from Cheyenne. The wind tore at her, but she hardly noticed. The trial was over. She was with Travis, his strong arms around her.
When he slowed, she raised her head. Turtle River waited ahead with three more horses. Travis motioned to him, and Turtle River fell in with them, leading the horses. They continued at a gallop until they were farther from Cheyenne, and then the men slowed the lathered horses. When they reached a creek, Travis dismounted and lifted her down, his dark eyes filled with a warmth she hadn’t seen since the night she’d discovered Brett.
“Thank you,” he said.
Her heart drummed. “They’ll think I found him not guilty because I’m your wife.”
“You believed Brett?”
“Yes, I did. If he’s lying, he fooled me. It’s done now, forevermore.”
“I wasn’t lying, Crystal,” Brett said solemnly, moving close to her and giving her a brief, light hug. “Thank you. I’ll never rob again. I’m heading for Idaho and I’ll buy some land and some cows and try to do something good to make up for all I’ve taken from people.” He gazed at Travis. “Thank you, brother. I didn’t mean to bring so much trouble to you.”
“Just make a good life, Brett, and it’ll have been worth all the trouble,” Travis said, hugging Brett.
“I will. I should’ve listened to you long ago.”
“When you get settled, let us know where you are. You’re a free man in Wyoming.”
“Brett Dancer doesn’t exist any longer. I’ll take the Black Eagle name like you.”
“Keep your first name. It’s easier. You’ll remember to answer people,” Travis advised, a hint of mirth stealing into his eyes.
“From this moment on, I’m Brett Black Eagle. I’ll send word when I get settled, and you folks are to come visit. I’m ready to enjoy my relatives. I want to know my little nephew.”
“You be careful,” Travis said. The two men stared at each other in silent communication, and then they clapped each other on the back.
Mounting his horse, Brett turned to say goodbye to Turtle River, but the Cheyenne insisted on riding with Brett until nightfall.
Beneath sunshine and a blue sky, Crystal looked up at her tall, handsome husband and her heart drummed. His midnight eyes were filled with warmth and love. He pulled her into his strong arms and his head lowered to kiss her hard and long.
She clung to him, her heart pounding with joy. How right it was to be in his arms! She hoped nothing again ever came between them. She needed Travis and his strength; she wanted his love and attention. And she adored Jacob. Life without the two would be no life.
His kiss deepened and his hand stroked her until the urgency became desperation. His hands slipped over her breasts and desire flashed white-hot within her. She had dreamed of him, wanted him, needed him for so long. And been so terrified she was losing him forever.
He raised his head to look at her and she saw the raw desire in the black depths of his eyes.
“My woman. I can’t survive without you,” he said in a voice that was merely a rasp. He shook and his reactions melted every bone in her body. He yanked off the black robe.
“There’s one thing this is good for,” he said, spreading it on the ground. He tossed away hairpins as he kissed her. She felt the tugs on her scalp, knew when her hair fell around her shoulders.
Spring winds danced around them, but Crystal was oblivious to anything except her husband. He peeled away her dress and tossed aside his shirt. As he removed his shirt, a white cloth drifted to the ground. Crystal bent down to pick it up and looked at him, her brows arching.
“You have my handkerchief.”
“You left it on your desk. It was a part of you that I could keep close to my heart,” he replied solemnly.
“Travis,” she whispered, shaken by the depth of his feeling. “My handkerchief!” She slid her hands over him while he continued to undress, taking off his cotton pants, removing all his clothing, and pulling her down.
He stretched on the robe and pulled her over him, settling her on his hard shaft. She gasped and cried out, her eyes closed tightly while sensation carried her away.
She moved, feeling his hands on her breasts, stroking her. Then his fingers moved between her thighs and the wild building intensified. She heard him cry her name while she cried his in return. She moved with him, a timeless, ageless rhythm that bonded them, body and soul.
“My love!” she cried.
His hands clutched her hips and she felt the burst of release as his hot seed spilled into her. She was carried over the brink, ecstasy tearing her apart until she fell across his chest and both of them gasped for breath.
She came down to earth, to the reality of winds blowing over them, of Travis’s warm, gentle hands stroking her back and bottom. He kissed her temple, lifted her heavy hair away so he could see her face.
“This is wanton,” she gasped. “Anyone could come along.”
Travis held her face with his hand, his eyes revealing such need that it took her breath away. “I was afraid I would lose you,” he whispered, and then he kissed her hard. He rolled her over so he was on top of her while he continued to kiss her.
“I love you, woman. More than I ever dreamed it was possible to love a woman, I love you.”
She thought she would melt with bliss. “I’ve waited my whole life for this. Oh, Travis, I’m so blessed! I love you!”
He leaned down to kiss her and in minutes he was aroused again, wanting her with a need that ran deep and sure and would last a lifetime.
In rapture, she clung to his strong shoulders, her hips arching to meet his maleness, wanting completion, wanting the union that bound them intimately, so thankful to have her marriage mended and hear his declaration of love.
She never knew how long they were there on the plains, loving wildly, not caring about the world, but finally, she pushed him away and stood, knowing they must go home.
“Zachary will be wondering what happened. If a mob had come after us in anger, they would have appeared by now. And caught us.”
Travis grinned as he watched her dress. He drew on his boots and then picked up the black robe. “That’s the best damn use for this thing.” He squinted his eyes at her. “Did I hear you yell something back there at the courthouse about resigning?”
“Yes, you did,” she answered. “I no longer find the job challenging and enthralling.”
He framed her face with his hands and gazed into her eyes in a thorough scrutiny. “You’re certain you want to give up the appointment?”
“I’m very certain. I’ll have to stay until the governor finds someone—”
“I suspect he will find someone damned fast,” Travis drawled. “You won’t be safe in town for a while.”
“I think I will, but there’s no need to argue the point. I would rather stay on the ranch anyway.”
“I want to hear you say that again. Every morning. I want you on the ranch, Crystal. I want you home. I don’t want to worry that someone is going to be angry with you over a decision and take out their anger on you.”
“We need to send word again to town, to both Wade Hinckel and the governor.”
“Good. Woman, I have other plans for you.”
Her pulse jumped at the look in his eyes. He mounted up with ease and swung her up with him, holding her close and turning the horses for home.
Travis and Zachary took turns keeping watch through the night in case any of the angry mob decided to look for Brett, but no one appeared. During watch the second night, Turtle River motioned to Travis to follow him. They entered the barn and Turtle River closed the door, lit a lantern, and moved
to a stall.
Travis watched, his curiosity growing as Turtle River dug through a pile of straw to reveal a large box.
“Your brother said to give you this when Crystal was not around and when he was gone. He said it was gained illegally, but there’s no giving it back now. You’re to have it for the trouble he caused. Use it however you wish.”
Travis hoisted the box and was surprised by the weight, even though he thought he knew what he would find. He set the box on a barrel and raised the lid. Gold.
“He shared some with Zachary and with me, so you don’t need to share yours,” Turtle River remarked. “Just use it and know that your brother is a good man.”
Travis replaced the lid. “For now, part of it will stay hidden right here in the barn. When I can get to town, I’ll give some to Preacher Nealy for his church. If Crystal got wind of this, she would have me riding all across the States to try to find the true owners. But I’m not giving up my life here to do that. Just pray that the good Lord restores what was taken to those people.” He hid the box back beneath the straw.
“I suspect your brother will spend the rest of his life trying to do good deeds to make up for his wild years. Guilt is a wild horse to ride.”
Travis replaced the box and they extinguished the lantern, returning to the dark night to stand watch.
Three weeks later in May, Travis hammered boards in place, finishing the addition on his house. Halfway through the morning, he saw a rider approaching. He went inside to get his rifle.
Crystal saw him, her green eyes widening as she bathed Jacob.
“Someone’s coming.”
“Are you going to call the others?”
He shook his head. “No. It’s a single rider.” He went outside and continued hammering boards in place until the man neared and Travis realized it was Wade Hinckel. Going back to tell Crystal, Travis waved and saw Hinckel return the wave.
