Marshal's Law

by Maddie Taylor

  “You know what they say about when you assume.”

  He looked at her oddly and shook his head.

  Janelle ruefully shook hers in return. “Yeah, I guess that expression is a little more recent.”

  “Tell me.”

  “No way. It has a bad word in it, and I am not up for round three today.”

  That made Aaron tug her close for a hug. “I don’t think you’re ready for that either. Just so you know, if I have to spank three times in a day, I’ll advance to more than my hand, because I am obviously not getting through.”

  That warning got her attention, and she stiffened. “I’m not sure I can deal with the spankings, Aaron.”

  “If you follow my rules, Janelle, you’ll have nothing to worry about. Understand?”

  She gulped, her throat suddenly dry as she nodded.

  “Say the words, honey, so I know you understand.”

  “If I follow your rules, you won’t spank me, sir.”

  “That’s a good girl. Now, let’s head back.”

  It only took about ten minutes to get back to the ranch. Aaron rode with her seated across his firm, muscular thighs, holding her firmly with his arms wrapped around her waist. Janelle had to admit it was romantic, a lot like the romance novels she’d always enjoyed reading. Like one of the heroes, he’d put her up on the big animal’s back, wrapping his strong hands around her waist, before swinging up behind her. The ride ended much too soon for her taste, but when he dismounted, he reached up to her again, this time letting her slide down the front of his hard body. Yep, it was perfect, just like a scene out of a western romance.

  Not much was said when she got back to the ranch. They had run across Henry and Heath upon their return. Both said they were glad she had been found safe and sound, but left it to Aaron to see her back to the house. He escorted her to her room and gave her a gentle kiss goodnight, telling her they would talk more at breakfast.

  Janelle lay in bed that night, restless and uneasy about her future. She had no choice but to remain at the Jackson ranch, although she felt uncomfortable with their continued charity. She had already mentioned it to both Aaron and Letty, but they easily brushed aside her worries. She had talked to Letty about working at the ranch or finding something in town, but she hadn’t given her much hope. Laramie was growing, she’d said, but it was still a railroad town with many rough areas and even rougher men. Jobs for women were limited and not reputable in nature. Most businesses were operated by families, and the women working there were most often wives and daughters. Any other work was in places like saloons, dance halls, or brothels, which were certainly not appropriate for decent women. When Janelle had said surely there were restaurants, hotels, banks, or stores that would hire respectable women, Letty had told her to discuss it with Aaron. This frustrated Janelle to no end. He wasn’t any sort of relation, and now she knew he was really just her jailor. For some reason, everyone seemed to defer all decisions regarding Janelle, even private matters, to him.

  Chapter Seven

  The next morning Janelle went down to breakfast, determined to make some kind of plans for her future. She’d catch Aaron before he went to town to work. She couldn’t just live in a state of limbo. She also wanted to ask him to take her to the woods where his deputy had found her. Surely there was a clue they had missed. There had to be.

  The family had just sat down to Letty’s biscuits and sausage gravy when they heard a wagon pull up in the yard. Henry excused himself and went to answer the door, grumbling about the general decay of manners in society and that in his day, visitors waited until a decent hour before descending upon a household. The smiles on the family’s faces said that this complaint had been heard a time or two before. They continued eating until raised voices were heard from the parlor, the loudest being Henry’s.

  “Aaron! You better get out here.”

  Aaron immediately excused himself, shortly followed by his two brothers. Letty and Janelle were left seated with curious looks on their faces. They glanced at each other worriedly, then promptly followed the men to the front of the house.

  “I don’t care what you think you saw, Mrs. Meyers. Janelle did not take your jewelry. We have been through her belongings, and she doesn’t have any gems or cash in her possession. You must have been mistaken.”

  The conviction in Aaron’s tone caused the visitors to waver slightly.

  “What’s going on?”

  Aaron turned to his mother, who stood with an arm around a stunned Janelle. “Go on back to your breakfast, darlin’. We’ll have this all settled momentarily.”

  “But they’re accusing me of stealing, Aaron.”

  “So this is our thief.” The portly man stated in a nasally, whining voice. “Mrs. Meyers, is this the woman you saw in your home?”

  “Yes, that’s her. I saw this despicable woman leaving my house with a leather satchel that I’m sure was full of my mama’s jewelry and my household cash.” Janelle’s accuser gave an award-worthy performance as she began to sniffle, as if the loss were overwhelming her tender sensibilities.

  “My client demands that you arrest the culprit and charge her to the fullest extent of the law, Marshal.”

  “Why, you lying, conniving witch!” This was said in a voice full of outrage, and all eyes turned to the usually unflappable woman at Janelle’s side. Her face was flushed as she glared at the unwelcome visitor.

  “Leticia, you will be calm and mind your tongue.”

  Uh-oh, Janelle thought. Henry hadn’t learned that those were fighting words either, and she watched with interest for Letty’s reaction. Henry crossed to his wife’s side and clamped his arm around her waist as if restraining her. Letty was livid. Evidently, there was some history between Letty and Janelle’s accuser.

  “I won’t be calm. Don’t tell me to be calm! Elvira Meyers has been out to get this family ever since each of our boys rejected her daughter. You and your daughter are cut from the same cloth, Elvira. And no decent man is going to hitch their wagon to the daughter of an evil, scheming—”

  “Silence, woman!” Henry clamped a hand over her mouth before she could say it. “You will go to the kitchen and keep yourself occupied while we deal with this business. Do you understand?”

  Letty looked at her husband’s stern face. She was fuming, but evidently saw the warning in his eyes and relented. Casting a last fulminating look at the odious woman, she stiffly turned with a dismissive tilt of her chin, before saying coolly over her shoulder, “Excuse me; I have biscuits in the oven.” She strode briskly from the room. The loud crash of a pan a moment later told them all her temper still boiled.

  “Your wife does not know how to comport herself in polite company, Mr. Jackson. I suppose living out here among all these rough men has made her unfit for genteel society.”

  “Control your client, Mr. Abercrombie, before my father forgets she’s a woman and removes her physically from our home.” Aaron turned his intense stare upon Mrs. Meyers who promptly shut her mouth, before nervously taking a small step behind her solicitor. “Now, do you have a writ from the judge? Because you will need one. I don’t feel there is evidence to bring Miss Prescott in for questioning beyond what I have already done myself.”

  The portly solicitor pulled a folded paper from his vest pocket and smugly handed it to him. After reading it, Aaron looked at Janelle with a grim expression. “It appears we will be taking a trip to town, Janelle.” Turning, he addressed the solicitor. “We’ll be along directly. You and your client may leave now.”

  “We have a bounty hunter outside ready to escort her.” Mrs. Meyers’ tone was snide as she puffed out her chest and looked down upon Janelle, clearly enjoying her little game of retribution.

  Aaron looked at Mrs. Meyers as if he could easily throttle the woman. Janelle was impressed with his control as he said in a calm, even voice, “Since I am the marshal of this territory and have already said I will bring Janelle to town, an escort is unnecessary. I suggest you go n
ow, or I’ll have my brothers escort you off our property. If that happens, I can assure you they won’t be as polite as my mother was.” Having said that, he took Janelle’s arm and guided her from the room.

  Two interminable hours later, Janelle found herself in the Laramie courthouse, waiting for the territorial judge to put in an appearance. Letty sat next to her, holding her hand. The rest of the Jackson family was seated behind her in a show of support. All except Aaron, who was talking to James Bennett, an attorney and friend of the family.

  “Pinch me, please, Letty, and wake me up from this unending nightmare.”

  At that moment, Judge Simpson walked in and sat down. Janelle was surprised that there was no bailiff or court reporter and that the judge was dressed in a suit, not robes. She was afraid of this old-time western justice. Partly because she didn’t know what to expect and partly because she had no idea whether she’d done the crime or not. She couldn’t remember arriving in Laramie. She could only remember waking up in the jail cell.

  “Alright, folks,” Judge Simpson began. “Let’s get these proceedings started. I have to catch the four o’clock train to Cheyenne. Marshal, what can you tell me?

  “Well, Harold, my deputy found Miss Prescott wandering in the woods. She was bleeding and confused from a blow to her head. Due to her injury, she has no recollection of the day in question. Doc can attest to her condition. He examined her and stitched up the wound on her head.”

  “Mr. Abercrombie?”

  “Mrs. Meyers saw the accused exiting her house on the day in question. After an examination of her home, she found a sizable amount of cash and several valuable pieces of jewelry missing.”

  “Are there any other witnesses?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Is Miss Prescott here?”

  Janelle looked at Aaron for direction. He nodded and gestured for her to rise. Standing on shaky legs, Janelle addressed Judge Simpson. “I am Janelle Prescott, your honor.”

  “Just call him Judge Simpson, Janelle.” Aaron, standing next to her, put a reassuring hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

  The judge noticed the gesture, and his eyes swept over the Jacksons thoughtfully. “Do you have anything to say in your defense, young lady?”

  As Aaron had instructed, she told him truthfully, “I don’t remember that day, sir. I struck my head and must have blacked out. I can’t imagine being in Mrs. Meyers’ home and stealing. It is not in character for me. I am a law abiding citizen. I’ve never even had a parking or speeding ticket.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she wanted to call them back. Aaron’s hand squeezed a warning, and the judge, undoubtedly finding her answer peculiar, gave her a quizzical look.

  She couldn’t think of anything else to say. “The marshal found my leather bag in the woods. I didn’t have any money or jewelry. I’m sure I didn’t take it, Judge Simpson.”

  “I understand that the items were recovered.” The Judge looked to Aaron and Mr. Abercrombie for validation. They both nodded.

  Relieved, Janelle said, “Thank goodness. Then, surely you must believe me.”

  “They were covered in blood, my dear,” Mr. Abercrombie said with a tone that was patronizing and conveyed his disbelief.

  “How do you know it’s my blood?” Janelle demanded of the smarmy little man. Damn this archaic century. What she wouldn’t give for a CSI team and some DNA testing right about now. Then a thought occurred to her. “Head wounds bleed profusely, you know. Ask Doc. If I was bleeding so badly, wouldn’t they have found blood in the house? Surely someone searched the house?”

  “You obviously injured your head after you robbed me and bled all over my jewels and money,” Elvira challenged harshly.

  Thankfully, the judge muzzled the hateful woman. “You will get your turn, madam. Until then, remain silent, or be charged with contempt.”

  His tone, combined with the threat, was enough to gain even Elvira’s cooperation, and she sat quietly after that as the judge continued to question Janelle. He asked about her background and family, how she came to be with the Jackson’s, and about her injury. Janelle answered with Henry’s made up tale of being a daughter of a friend, although she stuck as much to the truth as possible. No way could she tell the whole truth. They would think she was mad.

  Doc was also questioned, and he disclosed her confusion and erratic behavior. But his words didn’t help Janelle’s case as he added that the confusion and memory loss could be related to the head injury or some kind of underlying mental disorder. Janelle blanched at that last detail. Mental illness had an even worse stigma in the 19th century than it did in her own time. What would the judge think of that possibility?

  Finally, he got to the testimony of Mrs. Meyers, who reiterated that she saw Janelle leaving her house that day, although she conveniently forgot what she had been wearing and couldn’t describe the satchel when Janelle’s attorney asked. Things got ridiculously obvious when Elvira’s daughter arrived and suddenly corroborated her mother’s story. She must have recovered from temporary amnesia, Janelle thought with disdain, since never before had it been mentioned that Louise was present that day. Her story was even more unbelievable when she kept using the same words and phrases that her mother had to describe the events of that day. Clearly, she had been coached.

  Janelle’s attorney challenged her reliability, calling her everything but an outright liar. He proposed that her motive was jealousy and told of Louise Meyers’ campaign to be a Jackson bride. Once rejected by Heath and Luke, she had seen Aaron as her last chance. In the end, her attorney proposed that upon hearing the rumors that Aaron had set his cap for another woman, Louise and her mother had become incensed by yet another rejection and made up their outlandish story, thereby exacting vengeance on the Jacksons.

  The last bit of information surprised Janelle. People obviously thought there was more between Aaron and her than there was, but she didn’t say a word since the assumption strengthened her own case. She was sure the judge would easily see that the Meyers’ accusations were bogus. Janelle felt a little better after all the meager and clearly circumstantial evidence had been presented. She was certain that the judge would throw the case out due to lack of evidence as they had done on every TV show and movie she’d ever seen.

  Finally, it came time for the judge’s decision.

  “Miss Prescott, please stand.” The judge looked at her with true compassion. “This is clearly a case of a spoiled young woman and her mama out to get the Jacksons, and you, my dear, are the innocent tool of revenge. My dilemma is that there are witnesses to this alleged crime and blood on the items missing. In addition, they were found in the area where the deputy picked you up. Although circumstantial, I have to consider this evidence, since you have no defense other than memory loss. Ordinarily, I would remand you to your family’s custody and demand restitution, but you have no family, no home, no assets of value, and a questionable injury. Furthermore, your odd behavior, which was attested to by a physician, may yet make you a risk to the public safety, as well as to your own. So, my only options are to either remand you to a state facility for care, or if married, to the care of your husband. Unfortunately, since you are unmarried, Miss Prescott, I have no choice but to—”

  Janelle interrupted the man as the horrifying reality of what he was saying sank in. “Wait. I don’t understand. You’re sending me to a hospital?” Her knees collapsed, and she reached back for her chair, sinking unsteadily into it.

  “An asylum, dear,” Mrs. Meyers said gleefully in her nasty tone.

  “An insane asylum, you mean? I’m not insane, your honor. This is insane. You’re sending me to a psychiatric hospital based on two scheming women’s ridiculous lies and the cost of jewelry cleaning? Don’t you see how idiotic that is?” Her voice was becoming shrill as her anxiety level rose.

  “Janelle, darlin’, hush. You’re not helping,” Aaron’s husky voice was insistent in her ear.

  “This whole proceeding is a mockery.” An asylum, s
he thought, wildly. She’d learned about such places during her psych rotation in nursing school. Treatment was barbaric, and if the patient wasn’t insane when they went in, after spending weeks, months, and years there, it became true.

  Stunned and afraid, Janelle looked at the concerned faces around her. She eventually turned to her attorney, eyes shimmering with tears as she tried desperately to hold it together. She knew Aaron was right. If she lost it now, it would only support the judge’s decision that she was off in the head. Grabbing Mr. Bennett’s arm, she begged in a strained voice, “Please, sir, this is ludicrous. You can’t let him lock me away based on what these two witches have said. What about a trial by my peers? Don’t I get a jury? You won’t find twelve people in Laramie that believe them, surely. Isn’t there some kind of appeal for this decision?”

  “My dear child, there is still the issue of your mental condition.”

  Janelle turned pleading, tear-filled eyes toward the judge at his soft words. “I’m not crazy. There has got to be some other way.”

  Aaron’s heart broke for her; he couldn’t let this stand. He looked at the judge, who met his eyes with a small tilt of the lips. The older man’s eyes twinkled as he affirmed, “Maybe there is another way.”

  * * *

  Janelle bumped and rattled along in the back of the buckboard, seated next to Letty as Henry drove them. Heath, Luke, and Aaron followed along on horseback. She glanced at Aaron as he rode tall and handsome atop his black stallion. He’d played the hero again, making the ultimate sacrifice to save her from a mental asylum. He had married her. She still couldn’t believe it.

  Poor Aaron. He hadn’t wanted to do it. In fact, when the judge had suggested one of the eligible men present could save her through marriage, the silence had been deafening. Finally, after several long awkward moments, both Heath and Luke had offered, throwing angry looks Aaron’s way. Only then had he stepped up to the plate. Janelle didn’t blame him for not wanting her. She was nothing but trouble, and in the end, merely his prisoner.