Coming Up Roses

by Catherine Anderson

  The judge smiled slightly. "Your name is Miranda, I'm told," he began gently. "That's a very pretty name."

  Miranda glanced around the courtroom and shrank against Zach's chest, plucking nervously at the lace on her pretty new dress. Robin's-egg blue, with lots of icicles on her underskirt. A firm believer that all ladies, however young, felt more self-assured attired in something they liked, Zach had turned the town upside down the day before trying to find a tiny petticoat layered with icicles. He had finally taken a plain underskirt to the dressmaker's and had eyelet lace sewn on. Lots and lots of it, so much that Miranda's eyes had shone when she saw it.

  "My name's Judge McGilroy," the judge offered. "You can call me Judge or Mick or Gil." When Miranda didn't respond, he chuckled and added, "I also answer to Hey, you."

  Miranda fastened accusing brown eyes on him. "I ain't gonna talk to you."

  Startled, Zach leaned forward to look at his daughter. The judge arched a bushy eyebrow and smoothed his thinning gray hair. "I see. Is there a particular reason you don't plan to talk to me?"

  Miranda drew her lips together in a grim little pout. "Papa Zach said I don't gots to if I don't wanna, and I don't wanna."

  The judge shot Zach an inquiring look. Zach gave a bewildered shrug. Miranda had seemed tense all morning, but he had laid it to nervousness. Her refusal to talk with the judge was a new wrinkle and one that he hadn't expected.

  "Don't you like me?" Judge McGilroy asked.

  "Nope."

  Someone in the room tittered. The judge cleared his throat behind his hand. Zach saw the twinkle in his blue eyes and relaxed slightly.

  "Can you tell me why you don't like me?"

  Miranda rubbed her chin on her pretty lace collar. "You nailed my ma up on the wall."

  Several of the jurors burst out laughing. Zach's stomach dropped. With a feeling akin to horror, he remembered saying those exact words to Marcus last night. Miranda had obviously overheard him and, as was her way, she had taken him literally. He gave her a jostle on his knee and bent his head. "Mandy, honey, your ma didn't really get nailed to a wall. That's just an expression that means she was asked some very difficult questions. And the judge didn't ask them, the prosecutor did."

  Miranda looked unconvinced, and she folded her little arms across her chest. The judge pretended to be writing something down, but Zach could see his shoulders shaking. A smile touched his own mouth, and once again, he relaxed. Unless he missed his guess, Miranda was about to make another conquest.

  Judge McGilroy sighed, laid down his pen, and folded his hands. "Is there any other reason you don't like me?"

  "You gots on a dress."

  More laughter erupted. Zach propped an elbow on the arm of the chair and cupped a hand over his eyes.

  "This is called a robe. All judges wear them to the courtroom." McGilroy scratched his nose and refolded his hands. "Sometimes little girls misunderstand things they overhear. I assure you that no one nailed your ma to the wall."

  "Then how come do you gots a hammer?"

  The judge started at that. His mouth twitched. "This is a gavel," he explained as he picked up the object in question. He rapped lightly with it. "I use it to call court to order."

  "It's a hammer," Miranda insisted. "I think you're a mean man, and I ain't gonna talk to you."

  "Very well." The judge smiled and rubbed his chin. "I can't say I blame you." He took a deep breath. "I can see that you are your ma's champion."

  "I'm her little girl," she corrected with innocent acidity. "And if you didn't nail her on the wall, why'd you hide her?" When the judge didn't come up with an immediate answer to that, Miranda's eyes filled with tears. "I think you was afraid I'd see the nail holes, that's how come."

  The judge motioned to a court attendant. "Please escort Mrs. McGovern back into the courtroom for a moment."

  His chest aching with pent-up laughter, Zach settled back in his chair. An instant later, Kate was led to the bench.

  The judge leaned forward. "Mrs. McGovern, there seems to be some question in your daughter's mind about my treatment of you yesterday. She has somehow gotten the idea that I nailed you to the wall."

  Kate's eyes widened, and she threw a nervous glance at Zach. He grinned. Miranda scooted off his lap, ran down the steps, and launched herself into her mother's arms. While Kate spent the next couple of minutes hugging and reassuring her daughter, Zach watched Judge McGilroy's expressions as he observed mother and child. The poor man didn't stand a prayer. Zach knew the feeling.

  After Kate was led away, Miranda returned to Zach's lap and turned to face the judge. "My ma says you didn't nail her up no place, so's I guess I'll talk to you for a little bit even if you do gots on a dress."

  The judge smiled. "Thank you, Miranda. That's generous of you." He toyed with his pen. After a long moment, he met her gaze. "Do you know why you're here today?"

  "'Cause you want to talk to me."

  "Have you any idea what about?"

  Miranda fidgeted for a moment. "I think you brung me here to ask me questions." Zach felt her body tense. She glanced nervously over her shoulder. "About my old pa, I think, and whether my ma hurt him on accident."

  The judge followed her gaze. "No one here will hurt you, Miranda. There's no need to feel afraid."

  "I know. Papa Zach won't let nobody hurt me."

  Once again, the judge smiled. "I'm sure he won't." He assumed a thoughtful expression. "I understand that you suffered an accident that scarred your hand."

  Miranda burrowed closer to Zach. "It weren't an accident."

  The judge fixed his gaze on the angry red scar tissue that marred the child's fingers. "I see. How did it happen then?"

  As if she expected Joseph to appear, Miranda threw another panicked look around the courtroom. "My old pa done it."

  "Can you tell me about it?"

  Zach hunched his shoulders around the child and hugged her tight. Bending his head close to hers, he whispered,

  "There's nothing to be afraid of, Mandy. I'm here."

  Clutching Zach's sleeve as though her life depended on it, Miranda recounted the events that led up to Joseph's death. In a clear, tremulous little voice, she clearly stated that her mother had struck her father across the back with the piece of firewood.

  Judge McGilroy seemed to consider that. "If your pa was bent over you, holding your hand in the fire, Miranda, how can you be sure your ma didn't hit him on the head?" he asked gently. "Could you see where she hit him?"

  "Nope."

  Zach's heart nearly stopped at that. But he had told her to tell the truth, and he knew Kate wouldn't want it any other way. Zach stifled an insane urge to jump up, fetch her from the other room, and run like hell.

  The judge pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sometimes we hear a story told a certain way so many times that we begin to believe it actually happened that way. Could it be that your ma told you so many times that she hit your father on the back that you became convinced you saw it yourself?"

  Miranda wrinkled her nose. "My ma never 'vinced me of nothing. She don't talk about it."

  "Never?"

  "Nope."

  The judge sighed wearily. "I can only conclude that you didn't actually see your mother hit your father. Is that right?"

  "Yep." Miranda sniffed. "I couldn't see 'cause she was ahind me."

  "So your ma could have hit him on the head, and you wouldn't have seen."

  Miranda pressed her cheek closer to Zach's. "Nope, I wouldn't of seen. But I know she didn't."

  Judge McGilroy flashed a sad smile. "I can see that you love your ma very much. I promise you that we'll all bear that in mind."

  Zach's stomach knotted, and he closed his eyes on a wave of dread. Miranda squirmed and blurted, "I said my ma didn't hit him on the head, and I ain't lyin'. I couldn't see, but I know 'cause she didn't hit me."

  That gave the judge pause, and he fastened his gaze on the child, his e
yes sparking with rekindled interest.

  "What do you mean, Miranda?"

  "My head was right aside his head." She reached up and touched Zach's cheek. "Like my head's aside Papa Zach's right now. If my ma had hit my old pa on the head, she would've hit me on the head, too, and she didn't."

  "I see," McGilroy said.

  Miranda straightened within the circle of Zach's arm and fastened her gigantic brown eyes on the judge's face.

  "People ain't s'posed to be punished for what they done on accident."

  "No, they aren't," he agreed. "That's why we've had you here to talk with us today, so we can determine if your father's death was indeed an accident."

  "My ma told you it was, didn't she? My ma don't lie, and neither do I." She shot an accusing look at the jurors.

  "Only ornery folk'd keep her in jail for somethin' she didn't mean to do. And my ma says you ain't ornery."

  The judge smiled again. "We certainly try not to be. Thank you for coming, Miranda."

  Zach could see that he believed the child, and for obvious reasons. With Miranda's penchant for taking everything literally, which she had clearly demonstrated upon taking the stand, she was obviously too young as yet to be capable of formulating such a complex lie. He nearly whooped with joy and relief. Exercising all his self-control, he managed to sit there while the judge concluded his questioning with a few friendly overtures, clearly aimed at making Miranda's experience on the stand a pleasant one.

  Afterward, Zach carried Miranda down from the witness box, handed her over into Marcus's care so she could be removed from the courtroom, and reclaimed his seat. Within minutes, Kate and the spectators were brought back in.

  After taking a moment to compile his notes, the judge leveled a somber gaze on the jury. "It is my feeling that the testimony we've heard in this courtroom yesterday and today has been sufficient for you good gentlemen to draw a verdict. In view of the disruptions yesterday, I feel I must remind each of you that it is the primary goal of this court to arrive at a fair and just decision. Bear in mind that the vicious accusations made yesterday by Mr.

  Blakely must be stricken from your minds. If there is anyone amongst you who feels he cannot do that, it is your duty to step forward now so a substitute juror can take your seat."

  The judge paused, waiting. None of the jurors raised a hand. After several tense seconds, he called a recess, and the jurors filed into the jury room to begin their deliberations.

  * * *

  Fully expecting the jury to be out for several hours, at the very least, Zach and Charles Defler stepped down the street to have lunch. Before their meal was even served, Defler's assistant, who had stayed at the courthouse to await any news, poked his head in the door and yelled, "They've reached a verdict!"

  Zach and the attorney immediately tossed out money to cover their orders, pushed away from the table and left the establishment. On their way back up the street, Zach said, "Is such a quick decision good news? Or bad?"

  Defler cast him a solemn glance. "I've seen it go both ways. All one can really be certain of with a quick verdict like this is that the jurors weighed the evidence and reached an immediate, unanimous decision."

  Zach couldn't be put off that easily. "What's your gut feeling? You've defended a number of clients. How do you think the deliberation went, for or against?"

  Defler's lips thinned. "I can't make a call like that."

  Zach curled his hands into fists. "You think they've found her guilty, don't you?"

  Defler straightened his hat and accelerated his pace. "I pray not, Mr. McGovern, but when one examines the evidence, the fact is that a man is dead and your wife's only defense is her own testimony and that of her daughter. As heartbreaking as Miranda's testimony was, she's just a child, and her perceptions of the events that transpired that night may be questioned."

  Zach bit down hard on a curse. Struggling for control, he said, "You felt Kate had a good case when all this started."

  "That was before Blakely burst into the courtroom yesterday." The lawyer took a deep, bracing breath. "Never fear, though. If worse comes to worst, I'll use that unfortunate incident to petition for change of venue and a retrial. She won't go to prison, that I promise you."

  "Another trial? Wouldn't a petition and all that take a long time?"

  "Not in comparison to the alternative, which could be a life sentence or execution."

  Zach missed a step. A life sentence or execution? To hear those words uttered in regard to Kate seemed to him a sacrilege. She was such a sweet, gentle person. It hardly seemed fair to Zach that she had been victimized by cruelty for so long and now might be victimized yet again. "How long? A month, two? If that happens, how long will she be locked up?"

  Defler tugged on his jacket sleeves and straightened his cuffs. "I'd say six months at the longest."

  * * *

  Six months. Those words echoed inside Zach's head while he sat in the steadily filling courtroom, waiting for court to reconvene. When the door to the judge's chambers finally opened, his brow was beaded with sweat. Not Kate. Six more months of being locked up would kill her.

  When she was led into the courtroom, Zach had eyes only for her. From the rigid set of her shoulders and her ghostly pallor, he knew how frightened she was. Pride welled within him at the way she held her head, chin lifted, gaze fixed straight ahead, her steps sure and measured. He saw her searching for him, and then their eyes locked. Though he had to dig deep, Zach found the strength to smile at her.

  After calling the court to order, the judge began the proceedings. "The defendant will please rise and face the jury."

  Looking as though her legs didn't want to support her, Kate placed both hands on the defendant's table and pushed to her feet. Rather jerkily, she pivoted to face her judges. Her eyes, huge splashes of vivid brown, and her bright blue dress struck an almost startling contrast to the bloodless white of her pinched features.

  One of the jurors stepped forward and unfolded a piece of paper. After regarding it for a long, seemingly endless moment, he lifted an unreadable gaze to look at Kate. Zach held his breath. In all his life, he had never been so afraid for anyone as he was for that small woman standing at the front of the courtroom. He imagined her being condemned to a life of imprisonment, or worse yet, to hang. And in that moment, he knew he would do anything on earth to prevent it, even if he had to break the law. She was innocent, dammit. If the judge couldn't see that, if the people in this godforsaken town couldn't see that, then to hell with all of them.

  The juror cleared his throat. "We, the jurors, find the accused, Kathryn McGovern…" He paused, as if to draw out the moment, and Zach wanted to strangle him for it. Couldn't the pompous ass see how terrified she was? The juror's mouth tipped up at the corners in a smile. He cleared his throat. "Not guilty."

  Zach couldn't feel his feet, and his knees threatened to buckle as he stood up. He gripped the back of the chair in front of him. Not guilty. Joy burst within him, electrical and numbing. Tears sprang to his eyes. Not guilty! He shoved toward the center aisle, his legs bumping into knees, his feet tromping toes. Not guilty!

  The judge called for order, then appealed to Zach by name, saying, "Please, Mr. McGovern, not so fast."

  Zach froze where he was, effectively blocking the view of the overweight woman behind him. Not so fast? It was over, wasn't it? A verdict of not guilty! Didn't that mean Kate was free to go? He stood there, heart in throat.

  Judge McGilroy folded his hands and scanned the courtroom with a troubled expression on his lined countenance. After looking several of the spectators dead in the eye, he said, "Ryan Blakely's unexpected outburst in the courtroom yesterday brought several things to light, mainly in regard to Zachariah McGovern's past, which has absolutely no bearing on this case. I mention it now only because it is my hope that all those present in this courtroom yesterday will discount his slanderous accusations as the ravings of a man who is obviously unbalanced."
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  A moan of relief tried to surge up Zach's throat, but he swallowed it down, afraid to believe until the judge finished speaking.

  "It is clear to me, and I hope to everyone present here today, that Kate and Miranda McGovern have suffered enough, not only at the hands of Joseph Blakely, God rest his soul, but at the hands of this community." Once again, he looked directly at several people. "There isn't a one of us in this courtroom who wasn't aware, at one time or another, that all wasn't well out at the Blakely place. It is with sincere regret that I extend my apologies to both mother and child in behalf of those individuals who were instrumental in foiling Mrs. McGovern's many attempts to flee to safety with her daughter. We can only hope to have learned a bitter lesson in retrospect, that everything is not always as it seems to be."

  Zach saw Kate clamp her hands over her mouth, saw the stifled sobs jerking her slender shoulders. Forgetting courtroom protocol entirely, he once again began pushing his way toward the center aisle, his one thought to reach her.

  Judge McGilroy saw him and waved him forward. "Come ahead, Mr. McGovern. I think it's high time you collect your wife and take her home." With that, he gave three sharp raps with his gavel and pushed up from his chair. "You heard the verdict, ladies and gentlemen. Not guilty. The show is over. I suggest you all go home so this couple can reunite in privacy. And from this moment on, I suggest we make it a community effort to give them some smooth sailing for a change."

  Zach had a vague sense that he was moving. Instead of reaching the aisle, as had been his first intention, he grew frustrated and vaulted over empty seats, then cleared the bar in a mighty leap. With a whoop of joy, he caught Kate up in his arms and whirled in a circle with her.

  The judge chuckled and tossed down his gavel. "If it would be at all possible, I'd like to shuck this dress and buy Miss Miranda a celebratory fountain drink. Do you suppose she might be convinced to fraternize with an eccentric old man if he showed up wearing britches?"