Page 60 of For the Roses (Claybornes' Brides (Rose Hill) 1)

  He did just that.

  They walked back to the house in silence. “I’m going for a ride. Do you want to go with me?”

  “You need to think about things. I think maybe you need to be alone now.”

  He kissed her again and then went to the barn. Mary Rose leaned against the porch railing and watched.

  Harrison came out just a minute later. MacHugh was by his side. The stallion wasn’t wearing a saddle or a halter, but he stayed right by Harrison’s side as they crossed the meadow.

  Harrison suddenly turned to the animal, grabbed hold of his mane, and swung up on his back. MacHugh went into a full gallop up the first slope.

  “He rides like an Indian,” Travis remarked. “Where’s he going?”

  “To think.”

  “Your father would like you to play the piano. Are you feeling up to it?”

  “I’m fine,” she said although it wasn’t true.

  Playing would help her forget about her worries, she decided, and so she went inside and sat down on the piano bench.

  Her father was standing close, eagerly waiting.

  “What are you going to play, daughter?”

  Her brothers had seen her expression when she walked into the parlor. They knew exactly what she would play.

  “The Fifth,” they all told him at the same time.

  And so she did, over and over and over again.

  It was sunny and bright Friday morning. Mary Rose was disappointed to see blue skies. She wanted a good storm with thunder and lightning, because she thought bad weather might keep some of the curious in their own towns where they belonged.

  She rode with her father in the covered buggy. Neither one of them felt like talking. She spent her time praying and worrying about Adam and Harrison. Her brother’s nightmare was finally taking place, and she was powerless to stop it.

  It was all up to Harrison. God help him. He’d looked so grim when he joined her in bed. He’d held on to her all through the night.

  She tried to talk to him before they got dressed, but he cut her off before she’d even gotten started. She wanted to tell him she loved him and she trusted him, and that no matter what happened today, she would go right on loving him and believing in him. Harrison wouldn’t listen. He was abrupt and distant. She became really scared then, but as he was leaving, he turned and gave her the most wonderful and surely the meanest order she’d ever heard.

  He told her he’d put a gag in her mouth if she said or did anything to make him feel good. And if she told him she loved him, he just might lock her in a closet and leave her there all day.

  “In other words, you don’t want to be distracted.”

  He nodded.

  They left for Blue Belle an hour later. Harrison led the family, and Travis rode shotgun.

  Harrison stopped the procession just outside of town.

  “Mary Rose? Do you feel all right? I don’t want you throwing up in court.”

  “I won’t throw up,” she promised him.

  “Adam, I read somewhere that slaves weren’t allowed to look directly at their owners until they were ordered to do so. Was that true?”

  “Yes. It was considered insolent . . . uppity. Why’d you ask me that question?”

  “Because I forgot to ask you last night,” he snapped. “When you sit down at the table in court, I want you to stare at Livonia’s sons. Keep your expression bland, but let them know you’re staring at them. Look at one brother all the while he’s testifying. Look him right in the eyes, Adam. When the other one gets up there, do the same thing. When I give you the nod, let them see disdain on your face.”

  “They’ll hate it,” Adam warned him.

  Harrison nodded. “I hope so. Does everyone else remember what I told you?”

  He waited until they nodded and then gave them one last piece of information.

  “Don’t believe anything you hear from anyone while you’re in court.”

  “Not even you?” Mary Rose asked.

  He repeated his earlier statement. He wasn’t going to tell them he planned to lie, because he had no such intent. He didn’t want them finding out bad news until after the jury had been sequestered by Judge Burns.

  “No matter what I say or do, don’t look surprised or angry. You hear me, Cole?”

  “I hear you.”

  “Let’s get it done.”

  Harrison led the way down the last slope and across the flat into town. It was slow going down the main road because a large crowd had already gathered. None of the gawkers would be allowed inside the storefront until Judge Burns opened the doors for them.

  It was a mixed group of people waiting. Some yelled encouraging cheers, while others tried to drown them out by shouting filthy obscenities. Mary Rose tried to pretend she couldn’t hear, but it was a difficult task at best.

  The crowd separated so that they could go forward. Mary Rose held on to her father’s arm and let him guide her inside.

  Judge Burns was already seated behind the table at the end of the room. He faced the door. He motioned the family to come forward. Chairs of every sort from households around Blue Belle had been carried in and placed in neat rows facing the judge. A wide aisle led down the middle.

  About fifteen feet away from the judge’s table on the right side of the storefront were two rows of chairs, six in each, for the jury.

  “You can take your seats now. Hello, William,” he called out to Mary Rose’s father. “I didn’t see you standing behind all those tall boys of yours. It’s a hell of a sorry day, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, Your Honor. It certainly is.”

  “Harrison, that suggestion you gave me yesterday and tried to make me think it was all my own idea? Well, I’ve decided to go along with it because it makes good sense to me. I don’t want a bunch of strangers in here. They’ll only disrupt me, and then, by God, I’ll have to start in shooting. Can’t abide chaos in my court. Cole, get on up and hand me your guns. I’ll look after them for you. The rest of you boys do the same. Mary Rose? You carrying a pistol?”

  “No, Your Honor.”

  “All right then.”

  The judge waited until all the Clayborne guns had been placed on his table.

  “Harrison, Morrison’s agreed to help me figure out which ones live in Blue Belle or in a ten-mile circle around the town. No one else is getting inside, especially that noaccount vigilante group from Hammond. I’ll head on outside in a minute. First, I got to ask you what objections you have to any of the jury members. Do you mind women along with the men if I decided to pick one or two? I might be ornery enough to do it.”

  Harrison smiled. “I don’t have any objections to letting women sit on the jury, Your Honor. Whatever you decide will be fine with me.”

  “Well, now, that’s mighty accommodating. Anything you don’t cotton to?”

  “No, Your Honor. I’ve compiled my own list of people who live in and around Blue Belle. I’ve taken the liberty of putting a check mark next to the ones who came from down South.”

  The judge grinned. “Any ringers in this here list of yours?”

  “Excuse me, Your Honor?”

  “Never you mind. I spoke out of turn. I know how you operate, now that I’ve watched you pontificating in my courtroom in Hammond. You wouldn’t stoop to buying anyone off. I’ll be happy to use your list. It will make my job sorting everyone out much easier. I’m making John Morrison foreman. You got any objections to that?”

  Harrison pretended to ponder the matter. He didn’t want Judge Burns to know what a piece of luck it was. Adam had come to Morrison’s aid when the roof of his store caved in. He hoped to God Morrison remembered.

  “No, Your Honor. I have no objections. Morrison’s an honest man.”

  “If everyone’s ready, I’ll let folks trickle in.”

  “Your Honor, will you have someone stand in front of the door to keep everyone else out?”

  “I will,” the judge answered.

  “I’m expecting an

important telegram. If it arrives . . .”

  “I’ll see you get it. That’s cutting it a little short, isn’t it, Harrison?”

  “The telegram will help, but it isn’t needed to present my case.”

  Burns stood up. “I’m bringing in those southern boys last. Since they’re witnesses against Adam, I’ll sit them over on the other side of the defendant. I put the two chairs at an angle so the jury and the crowd can get a good look at them.”

  Harrison waited until the judge was on his way down the main aisle before joining Adam at the table. He sat down, leaned close to the brother, and whispered something into his ear.

  Mary Rose couldn’t hear what her husband said, but she was able to see her brother’s reaction. Adam looked astonished. Then he smiled. It was the first time in weeks he’d shown any joy. She couldn’t imagine what Harrison had said to him.

  Her husband leaned back in his chair. He wouldn’t look at her when he asked her once again if she was feeling all right.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  Harrison had ordered all of them to keep quiet during the trial, and so, when the first man walked in and went directly to the chairs reserved for the jury, everyone hushed.

  There weren’t any women sitting on the jury. Mary Rose recognized most of the men, but she couldn’t remember some of their names. None of the twelve was smiling. They all had solemn expressions, which she thought were appropriate, given the seriousness of the case they were going to hear.

  Lionel and Reginald Adderley were the last two men allowed inside. They stomped their way to the front and took their seats.

  Both of the men had blond hair. Reginald was older than his brother by several years. He had gray streaks in his closely cropped beard. His eyes were hazel but with more yellow than green in them. He reminded her of a lizard.

  His brother was just as ugly. His eyes were brown. His skin was pasty like his brother’s, suggesting to her that neither brother had ever worked outside a day in his life.

  Dooley was given the duty of guarding the door. Billie was told to spell him.

  Harrison continued to stay seated until Burns got to the end of the aisle. Harrison immediately stood up. So did Adam.

  So no one else moved. The judge seemed pleased by the deference Harrison and Adam were showing him.

  “With Your Honor’s permission?”

  Burns guessed what he was asking. He eagerly nodded. “Wait until I get on in the storeroom,” he whispered. “This is gonna be a first, and I want to enjoy every minute.”

  Adam started to sit down. Harrison wouldn’t let him. “Stand,” he whispered.

  Harrison waited until the judge had disappeared into the storeroom, and then called out in a loud, booming voice, “Hear Ye, Hear Ye. All rise. Court is now in session. Judge John Burns is presiding.”

  The crowd immediately got out of their chairs. The judge peeked around the corner to make certain everyone was standing, then strutted into the courtroom, looking as pleased and proud as a peacock. He obviously loved formality and rarely got it.

  He took his time going to his table and taking his seat.

  “All right. Sit yourselves back down.

  “I’m only going to say this once, so all of you hear me good. I won’t tolerate shouting or cheering or making any other noises while my court is in session. This here is sacred ground right this minute cause of me squatting on it. First, I’m going to tell the jury the evidence against Adam Clayborne. Then I’ll call two witnesses.”

  The judge paused to take a drink of water.

  “John Quincy Adam Clayborne has been charged with murdering Walter Adderley. Adderley was the man who owned Adam during the slaving years. Adderley’s sons brung me letters the Clayborne family had written to Adam’s mother, Rose. Now Rose still lives down South on that same plantation with Adderley’s wife, Livonia. She takes care of her ’cause the woman’s plumb blind. In six or seven of the letters, there’s mention of Adderley’s death. Ain’t nothing damning though. Adam don’t admit to killing Adderley, but he does admit to being in the house when Adderley died, and Adam also admits in writing that he ran. I’ll question Adam all about that when he takes the stand. He is taking the stand, isn’t he, Harrison?”

  “Yes, Your Honor, he is.”

  “Fine. Now I got one last thing to say to you, jury. I want to see justice done here today. If any of you have already made up your minds that Adam’s guilty, raise your butts off them chairs and get on out of here. A man’s innocent until proven guilty, and I ain’t allowing no man to railroad him.

  “Harrison, it’s your turn now. You got something you want to say to the jury?”

  “Yes, Your Honor,” Harrison answered.

  He stood up and walked across the room so he could face the twelve men.

  “My client has been accused of a crime he didn’t commit. If you listen to all the testimony, you will give Adam his freedom. Open up your hearts and your minds, rid yourselves of any feelings you might have regarding the color of his skin, and see that he gets a fair hearing. Abraham Lincoln believed in equality, and so did hundreds of thousands of valiant young men who willingly gave their lives so that slavery would be abolished. Don’t mock the memories of those courageous men. Remember how they died and why. Adam’s life is in your hands, gentlemen, and I will prove to you, without a doubt, that he is innocent.”

  Harrison turned and slowly walked back to the table. Mary Rose thought he was finished. She had to force herself to not smile. She was so proud of her husband. His speech had impressed her, yes, but it was the extra touch he’d added that made it more forceful. There was a very, very subtle western drawl blended in with his deep resonant Highland brogue. She didn’t think anyone else noticed the change in his speech though, and she thought she knew why he’d done it. He wanted the jury to think of him as one of their own.

  “I’m going to tell you a little bit about John Quincy Adam. I’ll start by telling you why his mother gave him the name. Some of you might recall your history and already know John Quincy Adams was the sixth president of the United States. That isn’t why Adam’s mother so admired the man though. She’d heard a story about President Adams and found out later it was true. After Adams retired from being such a fine president, he went back on home, thinking he’d lead a nice, peaceful life, and he did just that until he heard about a shameful incident going on in our very own country. In 1835 or about, some Spanish pirates kidnapped fifty-two Africans and headed for Cuba. Two Cubans purchased all of them and headed for the sugar plantations to sell them. Well, now, the Africans didn’t much like the notion of being slaves, so they revolted. They killed one of the crew too. When the ship reached Long Island, the Cubans had them tossed in jail and charged them with revolt and murder.

  “Now, why do you think the incident bothered President Adams so much? Slavery was legal back then, wasn’t it?”

  Several of the jurors nodded.

  Harrison’s western drawl become a little more pronounced as he continued. “I sure was confused, I’ll tell you, so I went and looked it up and found out why it was wrong. Slave trade with other countries had already been outlawed by 1835. A lot of other countries put the same law into effect too. So here’s the law. A black man born in America in 1835 would be a slave, but it was illegal to bring slaves into our country from outside.

  “Well, now, President Adams couldn’t help but get riled up about it. He believed everyone should obey the laws they had all gone to so much trouble to write down. He didn’t keep quiet about his opinion either. No, sir, he didn’t. His friends told him to stay away from the issue because it wasn’t popular to argue in defense of a black man. Of course that only got Adams more riled up. Know what he said?”

  Several jurors shook their heads. “He said, ‘May I walk humbly and uprightly, on this and all other occasions, flinching from no duty, obtruding no officious interposition of opinions, and prepared to meet with firmness whatever obloquy may follow the free expression o

f my thoughts.’ Now, what he meant was that the law was the law, and he guessed he was going to have to kick a few backsides if he had to in order to protect his country’s honor. The law is the law. If one or two men disregard it, and no one does anything about it, well then, pretty soon there’s more and more fol willing to bend the rules to suit them. Before you know all the rights the forefathers gave us in the Constitution a plumb ignored . . . even yours.”

  Harrison paused to stare at each one of the jurors befo continuing. “Adams was seventy-four years old, but age ar ill-health didn’t stop him from marching into the Supren Court and having his say. He defended those black me and when he was finished, the Africans were sent back hon where they belonged. The law is the law. Adams remen bered that. I want all of you to remember it too. Adam mother sure did admire the gumption of President Adams, and that’s why she gave her son his name.

  “My client was born into slavery. The law said that’s what he was from the minute he took his first breath. He lived and worked on Adderley’s plantation. Now Walter Adderley didn’t think much of his slaves. He didn’t think much of his wife, Livonia, either. I can prove what I’m saying. I have signed documents from southern white men who remember seeing Livonia all beaten up. Her husband liked drink, and when he got drunk, he got mean. He was a big man, over six feet tall. His wife was a little bit of a thing, around five feet on tiptoes. She certainly couldn’t defend herself against her beloved . . .” Harrison sneered the word as though it were a blasphemy, “husband. Walter Adderley beat her pretty regularly according to all the accounts I gathered. He liked to hit her about her head. She’s blind now, and the doctors all say the blows her beloved”—he sneered the word once again—“husband gave her caused the condition. Do any of you think it’s all right to beat your mama or your wife?”

  Harrison knew he wasn’t supposed to ask questions, and before he could be reprimanded by the judge, he hurried on. “No, sir, it makes you plumb sick to think about it, doesn’t it?”

  Every single one of the jurors nodded. Harrison held them in the palm of his hand. He wasn’t about to let them get away.