by Merry Farmer
“I’m not doing anything that will put my wife in danger of being burnt at the stake,” Trey said, loathe to offend Howard but determined all the same. “And I won’t have her ridiculed any more than she’s already been.”
“No, no, no.” Howard waved his hands and shook his head. “You completely misunderstand me. This trial is not designed to make a mockery of your dear Talia. In fact, the trial is designed to make fools out of the women who have been catty enough to air such ridiculous accusations in public in the first place.”
“What do you mean?” Talia asked with a frown.
“Like I said,” Elizabeth said from across the table, “this was not my idea.”
Howard snorted. “Listen, it’s simple.” He leaned into the table, and everyone else leaned in too. “We acknowledge the rumors of witchcraft outright. We call for a trial. Everyone in town will attend, you know they will.”
Several people around the table hummed and nodded in agreement.
“We ask the accusers to give their evidence against Talia. And I can guarantee to you that when those women find themselves standing in the witness box of our courtroom, spouting their tall tales out loud to an audience, they’ll be seen for the ridiculous ninnies that they are.”
“But would Mrs. Abernathy or the Bonneville sisters actually be willing to stand up in a witness box and say those things?” Eden asked.
Howard shrugged. “If they aren’t, then no one will believe what they’re saying anyhow, and the result would be the same.”
“Isn’t it a tad cruel to put those women on the spot that way?” Alice asked.
“No more cruel than spreading silly rumors about a woman who has just arrived in town and helped half the population through the influenza to boot,” Virginia answered her.
“Good point,” Alice agreed with a smile. “I say we go ahead with it.”
“I’d love to see some of those harpies get what’s coming to them,” Eden agreed.
“Now hold on just a minute.” Trey raised his hands, hoping to put a stop to things. “What you’re proposing is almost as ridiculous as the accusations themselves.”
Howard shrugged. “Fight fire with fire.”
“By putting Talia on trial for being a witch?”
“It wouldn’t be a real trial,” Howard explained. “It would be more of a theatrical event.”
“Then how do you propose to get Mrs. Abernathy and the Bonneville sisters and their friends to agree to it in the first place?”
“By making it look legitimate,” Howard said with a wink. “I’m certain Theophilus Gunn would be willing to play the part of the judge. Most of those women are terrified of him to begin with—though heaven knows why, seeing as Gunn is one of the kindest men of my acquaintance—and I’m sure Gunn would bring all the necessary gravitas to the trial.”
“Gravitas,” Trey repeated with a flat stare. “At a witchcraft trial.”
“I think it might work,” Talia said in a voice so quiet half of the table leaned closer to hear her. She blinked, glanced up from where she had been studying the last of the cake on her plate, and repeated, “I think it would work.”
“Sweetheart, are you sure?” Trey asked, brimming with doubt.
She turned to him, and suddenly it was as if they were the only two in the room. “I know it sounds mad,” she said, “but sometimes the best way to point out how silly something is, is to let the people saying it shout it from the rooftops.”
“But if it backfires,” Trey went on. “If folks in town believe the likes of Vivian Bonneville over you.”
“Do you really think the people of Haskell will believe Vivian when she says anything?” Virginia asked from the other side of the table. “Where have you been living, son?”
A tension-breaking chuckle rippled around the table. Even Trey recognized how unlikely it was that most people would side with women who spent the majority of their time turning up their noses at half the town, especially after Talia had been so instrumental in beating the epidemic. And maybe it was time that those women got what was coming to them.
“But if you get hurt in this in any way.” He finished his thought aloud.
Talia shrugged. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
Trey smiled. Yep, he was proud of his wife, all right. He’d never known anyone so brave.
“All right,” he sighed at last. “If you want to do this, then let’s go ahead and do it.”
Chapter 11
Trey still thought the whole thing was a bad idea. From the moment the witchcraft trial was announced, the day after their supper at Paradise Ranch, all of Haskell was abuzz. The Bonneville sisters and Jill Abernathy strutted around town with their noses in the air, smug grins on their faces, but just about everyone else laughed and whispered and gossiped about the trial as though it were the entertainment event of the season.
Maybe Howard had the right end of the stick after all. But Trey still woke up that morning with acid in his stomach.
Acid in his stomach, but Talia snuggled against him, where she’d rolled in the middle of the night. The trial was a bad idea, but things were making progress between him and Talia. He was confident that it would only be a matter of time before they were man and wife in every way.
“If you walk into the courtroom looking so nervous, people will think you’re taking this seriously,” Talia whispered.
Trey turned his head to meet her sleepy smile. He hadn’t realized she was awake. He sat up, still facing her. “I am taking this seriously. It could backfire in terrible ways.”
Talia sat too. “Even if Howard’s plan does backfire—” She leaned forward, cupped his cheek with a hand, and kissed him, sending Trey’s heart soaring. “—I would still have the most wonderful life imaginable.”
Trey’s heart melted at her touch, but he put on a frown all the same. “With no friends? Ostracized from company?”
Talia smiled. “I have you.” Her face shone as she said it. She kissed him again, then twisted to climb out of bed and begin her morning routine. “And I have my friends from Hurst Home. They won’t desert me.”
Trey kicked off the bedcovers and stood, heading for the washroom. “Even so, I’d hate to see factions dig in around here. That always brings trouble.”
“Aren’t there factions already?” Talia asked as he ducked through the door to the washroom.
He didn’t answer her question as nature called, but it stayed with him through washing up and breakfast. There were factions in Haskell. He supposed there had been since the town was founded. Howard Haskell versus Rex Bonneville. The good people of Haskell had always leaned toward one side or another, but he’d never liked it.
Still, whether he liked it or not, as he and Talia approached the courthouse later in the morning, the factions were apparent all around him. Vivian, Melinda, and Jill Abernathy stood on the steps to Haskell’s town hall—which served as a courthouse, assembly hall, and the seat of the town’s government—smiling at everyone who they deemed a friend or who may have been undecided.
Poor Bebe Bonneville stood way over to the side, jostling a wailing baby in her arms, being completely ignored by her sisters. Of course, that could have been a blessing. Just before he and Talia passed the biddies on their way into the courthouse, Trey noticed Hubert Strong sneak up to Bebe and take the baby from her. He stood close to Bebe and whispered in her ear, either explaining how to take care of an infant—and with seven younger brothers and sisters, he probably had plenty of experience with that—or whispering sweet nothings. Probably both, judging by the way Bebe’s face glowed as she gazed up at him.
“Stand back, ladies,” Vivian declared as Trey and Talia came even with her group. “If you get too close, you might find yourself hexed.”
“It happened to me,” Melinda declared to the wife of one of the newer shopkeepers in town, Mrs. Pruitt. “See? I have this hideous boil on my neck, and all because I passed her in the street the day before yesterday.” She tugged the colla
r of her dress down to show an ugly red welt.
Mrs. Pruitt made a disgusted sound and hurried into the town hall, shaking her head.
“She hexed me!” Melinda called after her. “I swear it!”
Talia sent Trey an ironic smirk, ignoring the glares of the three women as they moved inside. “Are you still worried that they will sway anyone?”
Trey swiped his hat from his head and ran his fingers through his hair. “Folks have a way of believing things they shouldn’t if it suits them.”
Talia hummed in agreement. “That much is true.”
They continued on into the large courtroom in the center of the town hall. It was already packed with Haskellians, most of whom milled around chatting with their neighbors instead of taking seats. As soon as Trey and Talia swept into the room, the chatter hushed for a moment before blossoming as people looked their way.
Trey’s gut clenched. “See? This might not be as smooth as Howard thinks it will be.”
Howard was already in place at the front of the room, talking to Theophilus Gunn, who sat in the huge, leather chair behind the desk on a dais. Gunn looked uncomfortable in the massive chair, but he’d certainly dressed for the part. He wore an expertly tailored, black suit, had his white hair slicked back and parted perfectly, and he wore a pair of spectacles that Trey had never seen before. If Trey didn’t already know what a kind and generous soul Gunn was, he would have been intimidated by the image he presented.
“Ah! Talia, my dear, there you are.” Howard popped his head up from his conversation with Gunn, then walked around the desk and stepped down from the dais to greet her and Trey. “You look lovely, my dear. Not at all witchy.”
Trey rolled his eyes, but Talia laughed and took Howard’s offered hand. “Thank you, Howard.”
As little patience as he had for Howard’s antics, Trey did like the way Talia’s cheeks turned pink as Howard raised her hand to kiss it.
“Are you ready for vindication?” Howard asked, letting her hand go and rocking back on his heels. He wore a smile as though he’d asked if she were ready for the curtain to rise.
“I’m still not sure about this,” Trey said, tucking his thumbs into his belt, hat under his arm.
“Nonsense.” Howard brushed away his objection with a wave and a laugh. “Who in their right mind would think that this lovely young woman is a witch but those three aren’t?” He nodded to the back of the room.
Trey and Talia both turned to see Vivian leading Melinda and Mrs. Abernathy into the courtroom. Again, the conversations filling the room stopped, and all eyes turned to the new arrivals. Only unlike Trey and Talia, Vivian and her posse stopped and posed, chins held high, posture straight, dresses as elegant as any fashion magazine. But at the same time, their haughty airs didn’t carry with them the feeling that the three were trustworthy.
As soon as the hum of conversation rose up again, Vivian broke her pose, and she, Melinda, and Mrs. Abernathy made their way down the aisle to the front of the room.
“Where do we sit?” Vivian asked, still overly elegant.
“Wherever you want,” Howard told her, making no effort to be nice.
Melinda sniffed in outrage. Mrs. Abernathy clicked her tongue.
“How dare you speak to the fairer sex that way?” Vivian scolded him.
Howard responded with a chuckle. “When I see some, I’ll let you know.”
Vivian’s mouth fell open in shock. The other two shook their heads and muttered.
“Sit with your husband,” Howard went on, gesturing to one side of the room. Dr. Abernathy had taken a seat on the far side of the room. He wore a scowl and was reading a newspaper, ignoring everything going on around him.
“We are the plaintiffs in this case,” Vivian went on. “We should have a special spot.”
“And where is your husband, Mrs. Bonneville?” Howard asked, a teasing twinkle in his eyes.
Vivian tilted her chin up and assumed the long-suffering look she wore every time Rance Bonneville was mentioned. “That blackguard said he had better things to do than getting tangled up in ridiculous female machinations.”
“Shoot,” Trey muttered. “I never thought I’d see the day when Rance Bonneville had a good idea.”
Talia hid her giggle by pretending to cough. That only set Vivian and her cohorts off even more.
“We’ll take the front row,” she said in a voice like steel. She turned with a swish and sat with a flourish in the seat at the front and center of the room. Mrs. Abernathy sat on her left and Melinda on her right.
“Something tells me we should get this started,” Gunn said from the desk. “And that we should get it finished as soon as possible.” He had the same amused glint in his eyes that Howard had, but on Gunn it took on the edge of menace. Trey wouldn’t have wanted to be either Bonneville sister or Jill Abernathy for the world.
He cleared his throat. “We’ll just sit over here.” He took Talia’s hand and led her to the seats on the left-hand side of the room at the front. “Well,” he whispered as he and Talia sat. “Here goes nothing.”
Talia had never been to a trial before, let alone one for witchcraft, and certainly not one in which she was the defendant. From the start, she had a feeling that even when they were through with the business of the day, she still wouldn’t have been to a realistic trial.
Mr. Gunn banged a gavel on the desk, then stood. “Hear ye, hear ye!” he called out, the corners of his mouth twitching as though he were having a hard time keeping a straight face. “Please be seated so that the trial of Mrs. Talia Knighton, possible dangerous witch, can begin.”
Talia’s heart caught in her throat at his words for half a second. As soon as a good half of the room laughed and chuckled, she relaxed. She scanned the Haskellians who had come to the “trial” as they took their seats. Most grinned and joked with their neighbors, all smiles, as though attending an exhibition at a county fair. Half a dozen or so had even brought snacks with them. One entire row near the back was passing around a bowl of popcorn. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Wendy, Holly, and Corva sitting with their husbands near the back. Sam Standish sat with them. Their friends must have come in after her and Trey, but it was a blessing to know that they cared enough about her to leave their jobs in the middle of the day just so they could show their support.
“Will the plaintiffs please come forward to state their case,” Mr. Gunn went on. He looked directly at the trio at the front of the room. “Ladies? Who will be making accusations first?”
Several of the people seated in the first few rows snorted and chuckled. Vivian’s back snapped straight, and she turned to glare at them. “I beg your pardon,” she said in her most theatrical huff. “This is a serious matter.”
“Sure it is, Mrs. Bonneville, sure it is.” Lance Cooper, the town’s barrel-maker winked at her.
Vivian twisted to face straight forward, her face turning red. “Go, Jill.” She thrust out a finger, ordering Mrs. Abernathy to stand up.
Mrs. Abernathy was only too willing to comply. She rose from her chair as if Hell’s fury were on her heels. Talia caught her breath, pressing a hand to her stomach. Her absolute trust in Howard and his plan wavered under the ferocity of Mrs. Abernathy’s glare.
“That woman is a witch,” Mrs. Abernathy said.
The audience in the courtroom murmured, craning their necks to get a good look at Talia. Trey reached out and took Talia’s hand. His expression was as fierce as Mrs. Abernathy’s, warning everyone looking their way that he supported his wife completely.
“What evidence do you have for these accusations?” Mr. Gunn asked. His serious look was just a shade too serious. Mr. Gunn didn’t strike Talia as the kind of man who would make fun of anyone, not even her accusers, but he also didn’t seem like the sort who would make excuses for someone who was on the verge of making herself look like a fool.
“Why, you can tell from looking at her,” Mrs. Abernathy went on. “She looks strange, foreign. And she
just showed up in town.”
“She rode in on a broomstick,” Melinda added in a loud voice.
A murmur passed through the crowd. A few sets of eyebrows rose.
“Yes, yes, she did!” Mrs. Abernathy nodded fervently.
Mr. Gunn cleared his throat. “Could you describe the way in which Mrs. Knighton rode into town on a broomstick?”
Mrs. Abernathy blinked. “She…well, she….” Mrs. Abernathy wrung her hands. Talia had the feeling she wanted to accuse her of having flown in on the broomstick. Talia half hoped she would. Accusations of flying would have sealed everyone’s fate. “She rode in with the peddler, Mr. Montgomery, and she was sitting on a bundle of broomsticks.”
“So, you’re saying that Mrs. Knighton rode into town in the back of a peddler’s wagon,” Mr. Gunn stated.
“Y-yes.” Mrs. Abernathy’s shoulders drooped for a moment as more chuckles rose from the audience. A second later, she perked up, the fury back in her eyes. “But Mr. Montgomery was sick. That’s proof of that woman’s dark magic. She’s the one who brought the influenza to town.” She threw out her arm, pointing at Talia.
Again, Mr. Gunn cleared his throat. “How do you reckon Mrs. Knighton brought the influenza to town when it was Mr. Montgomery who was ill?”
“Well…she…she was the one riding with him. Clearly she bewitched him.”
More chuckles rose from the audience. Talia’s heart thumped harder. On second thought, it looked as though Howard had come up with a perfect idea after all. He certainly seemed to think so. Howard sat on a chair to the back of the dais, grinning from ear-to-ear over everything that was being said.
“Is Athos Strong here?” Mr. Gunn asked, sitting straighter.
“No.” Hubert stood at the back of the room. Beside him, Bebe sank lower in her chair. As soon as Talia saw the outraged expressions on Vivian and Melinda’s faces at the sight of their sister and Vivian’s baby sitting with Hubert, she knew why. “No, Pop’s at work,” Hubert went on. “But I might be able to help.”
Mr. Gunn nodded. “Hubert, is it not true that the railroad had telegraphed ahead, stating that the influenza epidemic had reached such proportions in Rawlins and farther east that the train was held up?”
