A Lady Like Sarah (35 page)

Her eyes flew open.

Briggs pointed a threatening finger at Justin. "You come one stop closer, and I'll arrest you for
obstructin
' justice."

Justin took another step.

"Arrest him!" Briggs yelled.

"No, don't, please," Sarah begged, but no one paid her the least bit of heed.

Two of his deputies hastened down the steps, but before they reached Justin's side, a man who was vaguely familiar broke through the crowd, his face flushed as if he'd been running.

"I
canna
tell a lie. I'm the lassie's brother," he called with a wave of his hand.

Confused, Sarah stared at him.
Had she heard right?
She suddenly recognized him as the Scottish drummer they'd met on the trail and who had sold them baby bottles. But identifying the man raised more questions than it answered. Why would the hawker say something that was not true?
Something that was bound to land him in hot water?

Stunned silence followed the peddler's announcement, folÂlowed by thunderous applause led by Barrel, the singing barÂber. The deputies bypassed Justin and started for the drummer.

Then a second man stepped forward and introduced himÂself as a Prescott. Sarah had never seen the man before in her life. Judging by the look of confusion on Justin's
face,
neither had he.

This time, the crowd went wild. Several moments passed before the clapping and hooting stopped. The instant it grew quiet, another stranger stepped forward. "I'm Sarah's brother."

Sarah glanced at the marshal, who stood rubbing his hands together and practically licking his chops. "We got the Prescott brothers," he announced to the crowd. "You can be certain that at long last, justice will be served."

At that very moment, shouts sounded from a short disÂtance away. Three men forced their horses along the boardÂwalk, yelling and waving their weapons until the gawkers scrambled out of their way. The leader, a short stocky man wearing an eye patch, slid off his horse and walked up to the marshal on bowed legs.

"Thought we'd never get through," he said. "We're Miss Prescott's brothers," he announced, his thumbs hooked onto his belt. "Now you let that girl go, you hear?"

Briggs looked downright befuddled. "I didn't know there were
six
Prescott brothers," he said.

Sarah was even more perplexed than before. She glanced at Justin, who shrugged his shoulders in bewilderment.

Just then, a tall man with a sweeping mustache stood on the rooftop of the livery and introduced himself as a Prescott. "Sorry,
Marshal," he shouted, "but me
and my two brothers couldn't get through Main Street."

Much to Sarah's surprise, Jed stepped from the crowd. "I'm Sarah's brother, and so is he." He pointed at Robert.

Sarah gasped in dismay. She never meant for her brothers to sacrifice their safety on her behalf.

By the time it was over, some twenty "brothers" had
turned themselves in. The deputy marshals practically ran around in circles, not knowing who to arrest first.

Justin ran up the wooden steps and quickly strode up to Briggs. "You've got what you wanted, Marshal. A deal's a deal."

"Now you hold your horses," Briggs bellowed. "You're not
gonna
get away with this!" He turned to all the men claiming to be Prescotts. "You're
imposters,
all of you! Get out of here, before I run you all in." He pulled out his gun and fired it into the air, sending the men running for cover. "Go!"

Briggs holstered his gun and shouted to the hanging marÂshal, "String her up!"

Justin
lurched forward, but he was stayed by two deputy marÂshals, each grabbing an arm.

The crowd booed. Seeing Sarah standing beneath the gibÂbet apparently had a sobering effect on even the most revengeÂful spectator. Even Owen's widow seemed to have second thoughts.

"Let her go," she said to her brother, before turning and disappearing through the crowd.

The cries grew louder and fists pounded the air. "Let her go! Let her go!"

Briggs showed no sign of backing down. The townsfolk had made a fool of him, and his eyes glittered with the need to reassert his power.

The hanging marshal started to lower the black hood over Sarah's head, but she refused it. With a shrug, he tossed the hood aside and reached for the knotted rope. The shouts had died down, and only a few sobs could be heard. A couple of spectators fell to their knees in prayer.

Justin fought to free himself, but the deputy marshals held tight.

A single voice shattered the hushed silence.
"Release Miss Prescott at once."
The speaker's commanding voice attracted attention, and all eyes turned to a man who stood in the shadows of a doorway. From where he stood, Justin was unable to get a good look at the speaker and didn't recognize the voice.

Even Briggs seemed puzzled at first by the man's identity. "By whose authority?" he sneered.

The man stepped out of the shadows, and a murmur rippled through the crowd. "By the authority vested in me by the state of Texas, I order you to release this prisoner."

Justin's mouth dropped open. The dignified man was none other than Judge
Fassbender
. The judge didn't look or sound anything like the
drunk
man Justin had previously encountered.

Briggs still couldn't see him clear enough to recognize him. "Only the governor can stay a hanging, and I've not heard from Governor Roberts."

Under less grim circumstances, Justin might have laughed. Suddenly, the town marshal was concerned with protocol.

Fassbender
pushed his way through the throng and stood in front of the gallows. "I'm not staying the execution. I'm overturning it."

Surprise registered on Briggs's face. "You're—"

"Judge
Fassbender
." He turned to the crowd and tipped his hat. "I just received a telegram from a witness who disputes the claim that the Prescott gang was responsible for the death of a Wells Fargo passenger. It seems that the stagecoach victim's abused wife decided to shoot her husband during the holdup and let the robbers take the blame."

Shocked gasps rose from the crowd.

Briggs looked like a man about to be pushed over a cliff.

His face red, he stammered a denial. "Since when did you give a witness any heed?"

"Since I was soundly reminded why I became a judge in the first place.
And it wasn't to hang innocent people." He glanced at Justin before pointing to Sarah. "Since Miss Prescott has not been charged with any other crime, she is to be released at once."

Cheers drowned out the rest of his sentence.

The hanging marshal quickly unlocked her handcuffs, and the crowd broke into applause.

The instant her hands were free, Sarah ran down the stairs and into Justin's arms.

Justin held her tight. He couldn't believe their good forÂtune. If it hadn't been for the Scottish peddler, Jed, and all the rest, Sarah might have been hanged before the judge arrived.

"You didn't tell me you had so many brothers," he said softly in her ear.

"I didn't know myself," she whispered back. "I guess it's what you call a plague of brothers."

Justin laughed. "That's exactly what it was," he said.
"A plague of brothers!
God really does work in wondrous ways."

Wanting to thank the judge, he searched the crowd, but
Fassbender
was gone.

Mrs. Hitchcock saddled up to Justin and nudged him with her elbow. "Cost me a bundle to hire them," she said and then promptly repeated herself.

Justin stared at her. "
You
hired those men to say they were Sarah's brothers?"

"Not all of them," she said, her
voice shrill
with uncerÂtainty. "We only hired three."

"That's the God's honest truth," added another woman. "I know what you're thinking, Pastor. They can prove their real identity, so there was no chance of them being hanged or anything."

Mrs. Hitchcock nodded. "We couldn't let that precious child's mother hang, now could we? Could we?"

"None of us could," Ma added, joining the little circle that had gathered around Justin and Sarah.

"I thought I told you to leave," Justin said.

"I couldn't leave," Ma replied. "My dray is boxed in with all those other vehicles."

Sarah clapped her hands together in delight upon seeing Elizabeth.

"Don't tell me," Justin said, eyeing his landlady. "You arranged for Sarah's 'brothers' to show up too."

Ma refused to admit it, but she didn't deny it either. Instead, she handed Elizabeth over to Sarah, a conspiratorial smile on her face.

Sarah held the infant in the circle of her arms, tears glisÂtening. "You're the dearest, sweetest baby in the whole wide world."

Elizabeth stared at Sarah with unblinking eyes and her mouth twitched upward.

"Would you look at that?" Sarah said "If that ain't the most beautiful smile."

Justin grinned like a proud papa. Ma and the other ladies walked away, leaving him and Sarah alone with Elizabeth.

"She's cutting a tooth," he said.

"Oh, Justin . . ." She looked up, her eyes swimming in tears of happiness.

"Come on," he said. "Let's go home."

"Wait," she said. She
lay
Elizabeth in his arms. "I need to talk to my brothers."

He glanced at the end of the street where George, Jed, and Robert sat on their horses waiting with a saddled horse for Sarah. Justin glanced back at the marshal. The lawman was in a heated argument with Judge
Fassbender
and not paying any attention to them.

He
shifted
Elizabeth
onto his shoulder.
"Sarah,
if the marÂshal finds out that they're the real Prescotts—"

She squeezed his arm. "I won't be long."

"Let me go with you."

"I need to talk to them alone."

He didn't want her to go, didn't want to let her out of his sight. "If anything happens to you—"

"It won't," she promised.

"Hurry before Briggs realizes who they are. Meet me at Ma's house." He gave her directions and kissed her on the forehead.

She lifted her skirts higher than any lady should and ran down the street to her three waiting brothers.

George
led the way to the deserted fort outside of town, riding hard. By the time Sarah dismounted and tethered her horse to the railing in front of one of the old buildings, George and Jed were already in a heated argument.

"Of all the foolhardy things to do!"
George shouted. "What if the marshal had recognized us as the real brothers?"

"He didn't," Jed said defensively.

"He could have!"

"Okay, so I made a mistake," Jed said. "I didn't like all those other men
chimin
' to be Sarah's brothers when they ain't."

Sarah walked over to Jed and hugged him. "I'll never forÂget what you did," she said, knowing his heart was in the right place.

George shrugged in disgust. "We ride out tonight." He spun around and stalked away. Sarah called after him. He stopped and waited for her to catch up to him.

"George . . ."
She bit her lip. "I love you. I truly do. After Ma and
Papa
died, you took care of us. Done kept us all together, you did." It might have worked better had he accepted Mrs.
Bonheimer's
help. But she had no heart to blame him at this late date. Right or wrong, he did what he thought
best
.

The anger left his face and his eyes softened. "I'll always take care of you, Sarah. You
gotta
stop runnin'
off
all the time and doing the first fool thing that pops into your head."

"I'm not a little girl anymore," she said.

George looked surprised, as if suddenly forced to conÂfront something outside his range of experience. "I—I can see that. You . . .
uh
. . . look mighty pretty in that frock. But you're still a woman, and you need a man to take care of you."

She lifted her chin. "Not the way you see fit."

A muscle twitched at his jaw. "What's that supposed to mean?"

With a pang she realized her mistake in looking up to him. As a child, she thought George could do no wrong. Now she wondered if he was capable of doing what was right.

"Today I almost got my neck in a noose—"

"And you almost took us down with you," he said, his voice harsh as thunder. "Now maybe you'll listen to me!"