Page 56 of For the Roses (Claybornes' Brides (Rose Hill) 1)

  He couldn’t go on. Harrison nodded with understanding. “Sir, it was damned clever of him. He must have been in a real panic when the nursemaid and the baby disappeared. He didn’t bolt though. He stayed right where he was. How better to control the investigation than to be in the center of it? As long as he continued to work for you, he could see whatever came across your desk before you did.”

  Elliott suddenly bounded to his feet and rushed toward the door. “I’m going in there and I’m going to ...”

  Harrison stopped him by grabbing hold of his arm. “No, you aren’t going anywhere. They’ve already taken him away. I know what you want to do, and it’s all right to think it, but you can’t kill him.”

  He gently led Elliott back to the settee and helped him sit down. He didn’t leave his side for a long, long while, until he was convinced Elliott was under control and wouldn’t do anything he would regret.

  Harrison had wanted to talk to him about his own plans for the future, but he realized now wasn’t the time to burden the man with anything more. He would have to wait until later to tender his resignation.

  He went up to the bedroom so he could spend some time alone to think about exactly what he wanted to say to his wife. The words had to be right, and if he needed to get down on his knees and beg her forgiveness for all the pain he had inadvertently caused her, then he would do just that.

  Elliott didn’t know the names of her brothers. The realization still staggered him. In the name of love and fatherhood, he had deliberately tried to erase her past and mold her into the daughter he wanted. What must Mary Rose be feeling now, and how had she endured all of their insufferable righteousness?

  Her note was waiting for him on top of the desk. A feeling of dread came over him the minute he saw it, and he was almost afraid to touch it.

  He read her farewell three times before he reacted. And then anguish such as he had never known before welled up inside him until it consumed him. He bowed his head and gave in to the pain, welcomed it because he had no one to blame but himself, and now it was too late.

  He had lost her.

  Harrison didn’t have any idea how long he stood there holding the note, but the room was cast in shadows when he finally moved. Edward was pounding on the door and shouting the request to please come downstairs. Lord Elliott needed him.

  He almost didn’t answer the summons, and then he realized he had quite a lot to say to his father-in-law. He no longer gave a damn if the man understood. Harrison still needed to talk to him about his daughter.

  Elliott was standing in front of the fireplace. He was looking down at the note in his hands.

  “Did my wife say good-bye to you too?”

  Elliott slowly nodded. “She had everything,” he whispered. “Why wasn’t she happy? Did you know she was planning to leave? Harrison, I don’t understand. She says . . . here, let me read it. The last line . . . yes, here it is. I love you, Father, and I think if you got to know me, you might love me too.”

  Elliott lifted his head again. “I do love her.”

  “Yes, you love her, but from the moment you took her into your arms and welcomed her, you’ve been trying to change her. You don’t have any idea what you’ve lost, do you? I suggest you sit down while I introduce you to your daughter. I think I’ll start with Corrie,” he added. “Crazy Corrie. You haven’t heard of her before, have you, sir? No, of course you haven’t. You wouldn’t have listened. You will now though. I’m determined to make you understand.”

  Elliott walked over to the sofa and sat down. He couldn’t make himself let go of his daughter’s farewell note, and so he continued to hold on to it.

  Harrison talked about the friendship between the two women. Elliott blanched when he heard the description of what the recluse looked like. Tears came into his eyes a short while later when Harrison recounted how Corrie reached through the open window to stroke his daughter’s shoulder.

  “Her compassion for those in pain humbles me,” Harrison added. “I think maybe that’s why she put up with us for so long. God, I kept telling her to be more understanding, to give you time to accept her. You weren’t ever going to accept who she was though, were you? You can’t make it go away, sir. It all happened. Those men are her family. Your daughter plays the piano and speaks fluent French. You should be damned proud of her.”

  It was too late in the day for Harrison to put his own plans into action, and so he stayed with Elliott well into the night and told him most of what he knew about her background.

  They were given privacy. Lillian had tried to intrude, but her brother’s harsh command to get out sent her running.

  “A father’s love should be unconditional,” Elliott whispered. “But I ...”

  He couldn’t go on. He began to weep and buried his face in his hands. Harrison handed him his handkerchief.

  “Every morning she would sit with me and listen to me talk about the family. She never talked about her friends.”

  “You wouldn’t let her.”

  Elliott bowed his head. “No, I wouldn’t let her. Dear God, what have I done? What have I done?”

  Harrison was drained both physically and emotionally. He couldn’t give Elliott the compassion he probably needed now.

  “I quit.”

  “You what?”

  “I quit, sir. I’ve finished up all the work you gave me. It was deliberate, wasn’t it? You wanted time alone with your daughter and so you had me running back and forth across the country. I don’t blame you. I was so damned busy trying to repay the debt I owe you, I let it happen. That’s why I’ve been so obsessed about MacPherson,” he added with a nod. “But it’s finished,” he whispered. “If you’ll excuse me now, I’m going upstairs and pack.”

  “Where are you going?”

  Harrison didn’t answer him until he reached the doors. “I’m going home.”

  Adam Clayborne was going to be tried for murder. Harrison found out about the atrocity when he reached the livery stable. He’d planned to purchase a wagon and two horses so he could cart his possessions to Blue Belle, but once the old man who ran the place started telling him what was going on, Harrison’s plans drastically changed.

  “Yes, sir, we’re going to have us a hanging. Two fancy-dressed southern boys brung their lawyer with them. I heard tell they expect Hanging Judge Burns to hand Adam over to them so they can haul him back down where he came from to stand trial, but.folks around here don’t believe the judge will cotton to the notion. He’ll want to try the man hisself or get hung for disappointing everyone. That’s why my place is half deserted today. Come tomorrow, everything will be shut down tight. Folks will make a day of it in Blue Belle; treat it like a holiday. Some will picnic while they watch him swing, others will cheer. The women will mostly cry I reckon. Anyway, dancing won’t start in until sundown. It’s going to be a big shindig and you ought not to miss it.”

  Harrison had heard all he needed to know. He quickly purchased a horse, tossed twenty dollars at the old man and asked him to hire someone to cart his things for him.

  He had just saddled the black horse when the old man said, “I can see from your hurry you don’t want to miss it. You got time,” he assured him. “I ain’t leaving for another couple of hours. I’ll bring your things down for you. Might as well earn me twenty dollars as not.”

  “Adam Clayborne’s innocent.” After making the statement, Harrison swung up into the saddle.

  “Don’t make no matter. He’s a blackie and them two accusing him are white. Clayborne’s going to hang all right.”

  The old man turned around and only then realized he’d been talking to thin air. Harrison had already taken off.

  He rode toward Blue Belle at a neckbreaking pace, for he was terrified of what might have already happened. He had to stop the momentum before it got completely out of hand. He’d never seen a lynching mob before, but he’d read enough vivid descriptions about them to send chills of dread shooting down his spine. He didn’t have any i

dea what he could do to save Adam, but with God’s help, he would find something. Legal or otherwise.

  Harrison wouldn’t allow himself to think about Mary Rose and what she must be going through. He forced himself to center his thoughts on Adam. He had known there was something lurking in his background, but Adam hadn’t told him what it was.

  Murder? He couldn’t imagine the soft-spoken man killing anyone without just cause.

  Although Harrison wasn’t much of a praying man, he pleaded to God for His assistance. He was so damned scared.

  Don’t let it be too late. Don’t let it be too late.

  The hearing took place in the empty storefront across the road from Morrison’s store. The room was packed to capacity. Mary Rose sat at the table on one side of her brother. Travis was seated on his opposite side. Douglas and Cole were both outside. They hadn’t been allowed in because the judge was concerned about tempers getting out of hand.

  Adam’s accusers sat at a table across from the Claybornes. There were three of them in all. One lawyer and two vile, disgusting reptiles who called themselves Livonia’s kin. Mary Rose couldn’t stand to look at either of them.

  Judge Burns was pounding his gavel and ordering everyone to shut the hell up or he’d make all the spectators leave. Mary Rose was in such a daze of disbelief, she could barely understand a word the judge said.

  Everyone outside of Blue Belle had all turned against her brother. All of them. As quickly as one could snap his fingers, they’d turned from smiling acquaintances into a group of angry vigilantes. Adam had helped most of the men inside the courtroom. His kindness and his generosity meant nothing to any of them now. He was black, and the man he supposedly killed was white. No one needed to hear anything more. Adam was guilty, regardless of circumstances. If the mob could have taken him outside and crucified him, Mary Rose believed they would.

  She didn’t know how to stop it. Adam was so stoic and dignified about it all. Even though he knew what was going to happen to him, the expression on his face showed only mild curiosity. Was he raging inside? She reached over and brushed her hand over his. How could she help him? How could anyone?

  The judge slammed his gavel down once again. He was ready to render his decision about taking Adam back down south.

  “I’ve looked your papers over and they appear to be legal.”

  The attorney Livonia’s sons had brought with them hastily stood up. His name was Floyd Manning, and when he’d introduced himself to the judge, he’d added the fact that his family had lived in South Carolina for over a hundred years. He seemed to think that that somehow made him more qualified.

  “Of course they’re legal,” Manning said. “Shall we take Clayborne with us now? You have no recourse but to follow the law.”

  A howl of alarm went up. The coyotes wanted to be fed. “Don’t let him take him, Judge,” someone shouted from the back of the courtroom. “It ain’t fair. I got my family waiting outside. I promised them ...”

  “Shut the hell up,” the judge ordered the complainer. “What I was saying before you tried to fast-talk me into rushing, Floyd Manning, is that I got a little problem with this here legal paper. The law is the law, but telling me I don’t have any recourse, well, now, that’s mighty bold talk coming from an outsider. Let me set you straight. I’m the law here. What I say goes, and now I’m saying Adam Clayborne isn’t going to be handed over to you. You want to see him hang, then you’ll have to wait around to find out if he’s rendered guilty or not.”

  “But, Judge, in South Carolina . . .” Manning began.

  “We ain’t in South Carolina,” came the shout from the back. “Go on ahead and try him now, Judge. It’s getting on to noon.”

  The judge looked as if he wanted to shoot someone. Since he was the only one with a gun inside this courtroom, he figured he might do just that if folks didn’t settle down pretty soon.

  He glared at the crowd before turning back to the citified lawyer with hundred-year-old relatives. “We’re in a territory, not a state, and like I told you before, what I say goes.”

  Mary Rose bowed her head. She was desperately trying not to cry. Her anger made her shiver so much her arms had goosebumps everywhere. Would this nightmare ever end? Her brothers had hoped that Judge Burns would hand Adam over to the southerners. They planned to grab him outside of town and hide him up in the mountains until future plans could be made.

  The crowd was in a frenzy waiting for the judge to tell them he would go ahead and try Adam then and there. Burns wasn’t about to lose control of his court. He reached down into his lap and pulled out his six-shooter. He was going to put a couple of bullets in the ceiling to get everyone’s attention.

  The tactic turned out to be unnecessary. Just as he was cocking his weapon, a hush came over the crowd. Burns looked up and spotted Harrison roughly shoving his way through the angry men.

  Mary Rose noticed the silence and gripped her hands together even tighter. What more had happened? Were they bringing in Douglas and Cole? She was afraid to look.

  Harrison walked right past her. He didn’t spare her or her brothers a glance as he made his way to the table Judge Burns sat behind.

  “I have business with this court.”

  Her head jerked up. She blinked. He didn’t disappear. Harrison? Harrison was in Blue Belle? She couldn’t seem to catch her breath, couldn’t make herself understand.

  “State your business,” the judge commanded.

  “My name is Harrison Stanford MacDonald . . .”

  Burns didn’t let him continue. “Why are you telling me your name? I know who you are.”

  “For the record, Your Honor.”

  “What record? We don’t keep records here, leastways we don’t very often. We’re more casual in the Territory. State your business,” he repeated.

  “I represent Adam Clayborne.”

  A sparkle came into the judge’s eyes. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his jaw. “You do, do you?”

  “Yes, Your Honor, I do.”

  “Then you might as well get on over there and represent him. I’m about to try him for murder.”

  “Is a man entitled to a fair trial in the Territory?” he asked.

  The judge knew Harrison well enough to understand he wasn’t trying to bait him or insult him.

  “Yes, of course he’s entitled.”

  “Then I request sufficient time to confer with my client.”

  “How much time?”

  “One month.”

  A roar of discontent went up. The judge calmly shot his gun into the air. “Can’t wait a whole month, Harrison.”

  “Your Honor, I must have sufficient time to build my case.”

  “Where we gonna keep him until you figure out what you want to say?”

  “He should be released into my custody,” Harrison said.

  “He’ll run, Judge. The darkie will run. Just you wait and see.”

  Judge Burns leaned to the side so he could see past Harrison. “Is that you, Bickley, disrupting my courtroom? I swear to God I’m gonna put a bullet in your butt if you don’t shut your trap. You got two weeks to prepare, Harrison. You willing to put up money in the event Adam runs?”

  “Everything I own.”

  “A hundred dollars will do me now. You can pay up the rest in two weeks, unless of course he doesn’t run.”

  “Yes, Your Honor.”

  The judge slammed the gavel down once again. “Adam’s got to stay under house arrest until trial. Anyone doesn’t like it can watch he doesn’t leave from the edge of the Clayborne property line. All of you hear what I’m saying? Bickley, if you don’t have anything better to do with your time than sit around and watch, you do it from the trees. You got that? I’m declaring here and now if any of you set foot on Clayborne land, it’s legal for them to shoot you. We’re going to have us a trial in two weeks. Court’s adjourned.”

  The judge slapped the gavel down against the tabletop one last time. “You’ve got your work c

ut out for you, Harrison,” he remarked in a low voice. “I have a folder full of evidence against Adam. You can have a gander at it until I leave to go fishing. I’ll be at Belle’s place until Sunday next. Bring your hundred dollars over there.”

  Floyd Manning walked over to Harrison. “Nigger lover,” he hissed.

  The judge heard him. “You got no more business here, Manning. Go on back home. I do my own prosecuting here. It’ll be trial by jury, and I’ll be the one picking the twelve.”

  Manning’s bushy eyebrows came together in yet another scowl. “That boy don’t deserve a fair trial. They all ought to be dragged out of here and strung up.”

  The attorney’s face had turned a blotchy red. He was furious the hearing hadn’t gone his way.

  Judge Burns looked at Harrison. “Who exactly does he think we ought to string up? The town or just the Claybornes?”

  Manning was happy to answer him. “The Claybornes, of course, especially that white girl living under the same roof with the nigger. She’s trash.”

  “You got something to say about that, Harrison?” the judge asked.

  He counted to ten before he answered the judge. Stalling didn’t help him change his mind. “How much for the charge of assault, Your Honor?”

  Burns’s eyes sparkled with merriment. “Five dollars, given the special circumstances.”

  Harrison reached into his pocket, pulled out five dollars, and dropped the money on the table.

  What happened next so surprised the southern attorney, he didn’t have time to protect himself. Harrison punched him hard in the face.

  He coldcocked him. Manning collapsed on the floor in a dead faint. The judge leaned over the table to get a better look at the man, then turned back to Harrison.

  He was trying hard not to smile. “Well now, that’s premeditation. Cost you a dollar more.”

  Harrison handed him the money and went to his wife and her brothers.

  He kept his attention on the crowd. The men were slow to leave, and Harrison had plenty of time to study their faces. He didn’t recognize any of them.