Deborah Camp (19 page)

The door swung open. “Mr. Warner,” Inez Rainwater said, surprise and then concern dashing across her face.

“Is the judge home?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What about his missus?”

Inez shook her head. “She’s out.”

Relief scampered through him. “Could you tell the judge I’d like to see him? It’s important.”

A conspirator’s smile touched her thin lips. “Come inside, please.”

He waited in the foyer for Inez to announce him to the judge. Removing his hat, he hung it on the hall tree and shifted from one boot to the other as the minutes ticked by. Finally, he heard movement coming from the back of the house and Judge Bishop came into view. He looked none too happy.

“What’s this all about, Warner?” he blustered, his bushy brows lowered and his jaw set. “I don’t care to hear any more about the Hastings woman.”

“Good afternoon, Judge Bishop. I wouldn’t be bothering you if it wasn’t important.”

The judge stopped in front of him and hung his thumbs in his vest pockets. “What is it now?”

Zach decided shoot straight. “I know that Luna’s marriage to Hastings was illegal. I saw the forged documents and I checked the court docket.”

The light seemed to go out of the judge’s eyes and his face grew pale and then was suddenly infused with bright pink. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I want you to leave this house, Warner. Now.”

“Judge Bishop —.”

“Luna told me how you have tried to bed her and she spurned you. You’re jealous, Warner, and you’re trying to cause trouble in my marriage, but it won’t work.”

“Did she also tell you that Melvin Parks will probably be arrested for killing that saloon girl they found in the alley?

Judge Bishop’s mouth moved, but no words came out.

“It’s obvious that you love Luna Lee, Judge, because you either paid someone to create that counterfeit document or you did it yourself. By doing so, you disgraced yourself and you’re facing jail time.”

Judge Bishop pulled his thumbs out of his vest pockets and pointed a menacing finger in Zach’s face. “Get out of here. I’m not listening to this!”

“I can’t let this go, Judge. I have a client who has been wronged by what you did.”

“Luna told me you would try something like this!”

“I’m not interested in your wife, Judge, but Parks is. He and Luna are copulating like rabbits. She had you do her dirty work and she’s playing you for a fool.”

“Dirty liar!” The judge lunged forward, one fist jutting out.

Surprised by the attack, Zach wasn’t quite quick enough and the judge’s knuckles smacked his cheekbone, sending hot pain through his head. He grabbed the judge’s wrist and spun the man around, crooking his arm behind him and standing the judge up on his tiptoes.

“Let go of me.” The judge drove his free elbow back into Zach’s ribs.

Zach let go of him, not wanting to fight the older man. He stepped away, putting some distance between them. “That’s enough of that. Let’s talk this out.”

“You come in here accusing me of fraud! Get out!”

“I have the evidence, Judge Bishop, and I’m damn well going to use it. I’ve already consulted Adam about it. Out of the respect I used to have for you, I wanted to let you know before I speak to Judge Olson.”

“You sonofabitch!” He swung again and his fist glanced off Zach’s chin, rocking him backward.

“Damn it all!” Zach shoved the judge and the older man lost his balance and staggered back into the wall. “I’m not fighting you. I thought you‘d have enough integrity left to admit your crime and show at least a scrap of regret. Maybe you’d even apologize for losing your head, helping to steal a woman’s land, and throwing your long career on the bench into the slop jar. But I was wrong.” He batted a hand at the judge and plucked his hat off the tree. “You’re like a child clinging to her skirts.”

“Why you!” The judge ran at him, but Zach sidestepped him, letting him run into a hall table and topple over with it.

Shoving his hat onto his head, Zach looked down at the older man who used to demand respect from the bench. He shook his head and left him huffing and puffing and trying to get to his feet.

“Zach should be back soon,” Adam said, pausing on the threshold of the office with Bert at his elbow. “We’ll wait with you.”

“No, you go on. I’ll be fine. If he doesn’t show up within an hour, I’ll just go to the boarding house and see him tomorrow.”

“It’s okay. We don’t mind waiting.”

“I do. I have children to feed. Let’s go, Adam,” Bert said, pulling at his arm. “Good to see you again, Jennie. Don’t be a stranger.”

“Thanks. Have a good evening.”

After they were gone, Jennie sat on the window seat in the outer office. She remembered the first time she’d met Zach here and he had planted Oliver on this seat with a book about horses to keep him occupied. He knew the way to her little boy’s heart even then in those first few hours.

She fluffed the skirt of her pale yellow dress and reached down to rub a smudge off the toe of her shoe. She wondered idly what her son was doing now and imagined that he and Molly were helping Dottie and Mrs. Philpot punch bread dough to remove bubbles, one of their favorite kitchen activities. She had told Dottie this morning that she planned to meet with Zach after work.

“Don’t worry about Oliver,” Dottie had said.

“I want to talk to Zach about Stella,” she’d said. “I don’t understand why Melvin Parks hasn’t been arrested yet for her murder.”

“Find out what you can. Why don’t you let him buy you dinner? You need a few hours away from work and this boarding house and I need the extra work.”

Jennie laughed to herself, understanding how difficult it was to make ends meet. She was blessed to have found work at the dry goods store. There weren’t many job offerings for women in Guthrie. However modern it was to allow divorces more freely, the town was like every other one when it came to providing paying jobs for divorced women.

The outside door opened, letting in the noise of the street for a few seconds before snuffing out the sounds again. She heard Zach’s footfalls on the steps and she stood up to greet him as he stepped into the office. He whipped his hat off his head and then jerked to a stop when he saw her.

“Hey, there. Something wrong?”

“I wanted to — Zach!” The sight of his battered face sent her hurrying across the room to him. Concern pinched her heart. “What happened to you?” She leaned close to get a better look at his scraped chin and the angry red swelling on his left cheekbone.

“It’s nothing. I had a run-in with Judge Bishop.”

“Judge Bishop did this? Let me see. Come over here closer to the light. Does it hurt?” Pulling him to the desk where a lamp glowed faintly, she placed her fingertips softly on his cheek and then his chin. “You’re bleeding.”

“Am I?” He looked at the red smudges on her fingertips. “So I am.”

“There are some blood drops on your shirt collar.”

He strode through the outer office and she followed as he led the way to his room. He went to the washstand, glanced over his shoulder at her standing in the open doorway, and waved her inside. “Light that lamp, will you?”

She went to the oil lamp sitting on the table and opened the match box in its base. After lighting the wick, she adjusted the flame so that it provided a nice glow across the room.

“What did you say to him to make him so mad that he attacked you?” She went to stand beside him and watched as he poured water from a pitcher into the shallow bowl. He wet a washrag and swiped at the blood on his chin as he peered into the shaving mirror. “Here, let me.” She took the damp cloth from him and turned him around to face her.

“Luna is making a fool of him and I told him as much,” he said, giving a wince when she pressed a little too hard on his scraped chin. ‘I refused to have fisticuffs with him, so he got in a few lucky punches.”

She made a
tsking
sound with her tongue. Wetting the cloth again in the cool water, she folded it and placed it gently against the swelling on his cheekbone. “Does that hurt?”

His full mouth curved in an impish grin. “Your touch is as soft as a spring breeze. Just before a twister hits.”

She feigned a gasp of insult. “In that case, I’ll leave you to your own devices.”

He laughed and caught her wrist. “Don’t go, nurse Jennie. I may need you yet.”

He was only playing, she knew, but her heart leapt at his touch, at the thought of him needing her, and suddenly the small felt even smaller.

“Why are you here, Jennie? What did you want to talk to me about?”

“Melvin Parks.” She latched onto the reason for her visit and pressed the washcloth against his bruised cheek again. “Why hasn’t he been arrested? The man should be in jail by now.”

“He will be.”

“He murders a young woman and nothing happens.” She shrugged. “It infuriates me.”

“Be patient. Once he is in jail, you want him to stay there, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Then let justice take its course.”

He held her gaze and she felt herself drifting into the warmth shining there. She looked away from his seductive eyes, but only found more of him to admire. His golden hair. His chiseled jaw. She removed the cloth and examined the red spot on his cheek. “That will bruise.”

“I’ll live.”

“Why don’t you take off your shirt and I’ll wash out the blood spots on your collar.”

“I can do it later.” He tilted his head as if he was struck by a wayward thought. “Where’s Oliver?”

“At the boarding house with Dottie and Molly. He is enjoying the riding lessons, Zach. I can’t thank you enough for spending time with him.” She heard herself babbling, rushing from thought to thought. “You’ll never know what it means to me. To him.”

“I enjoy it as well.”

“Well, the least I can do is repay you by helping you with your shirt.” She raised the washcloth to his collar and tried to erase the pink spots. “This isn’t working,” she said with a frown. “This blood needs to be scrubbed out first, before you wash it.”

“You have to get your way, don’t you?” he asked as he began unbuttoning his shirt.

Jennie scowled playfully at him. “You have to be a stubborn mule, don’t you?”

He chuckled and pulled his shirttails free from the waistband of his trousers. “Jennie, I don’t want you to fly off the handle about this, but I think I have found a loophole.” He shrugged out of the garment and handed it to her.

“What do you mean?” No longer as focused on the stains as she was on the lights dancing in his blue eyes, she smiled, wondering what he was up to now. “Did Judge Bishop have a big row with Luna?”

“I can’t discuss it yet.”

“What? Why not?” Impatience blew through her and she tossed aside his shirt. “But I’m your client. If anyone should know what’s happening, it’s me. Is this about putting land in a trust for Oliver?”

“No, it’s even better than that.”

“I get the land?” she heard her tone soar along with her hopes.

“Not quite yet, but things are looking better. I figure that he’s powwowing with Luna now. I’d love to be a fly on the wall in that house.” He chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Luna will blow her top.”

Almost beside herself with excitement, Jennie placed her hands on his chest. “When will you know for sure?”

“Tomorrow.” He rested his hands on hers, pressing her palms against his skin. “I’ll know more tomorrow.”

From the pleasure emanating from his face, she knew that the scales had tilted in her favor. With a laugh, she pushed away from him and pirouetted in the center of the room, her skirts twirling around her legs.

“Tomorrow! It can’t come soon enough,” she said, breathlessly. Looking at him, she acted on pure instinct and threw her arms around his neck. She landed a quick kiss on his parted lips.

His response was instant and exuberant. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her flush against him. He took her mouth in a full, deep kiss that offered passion and joy and hope. Her heart leapt in response. That was exactly what she wanted, she realized. More than news, more than land, more than a house in the country. In this instant, this kiss, this man, these feelings were succor for her soul.

His skin was warm and supple. Muscles rippled under her fingertips. He smoothed his hands over her head and his fingers combed through the inky silk of her hair.

“You’re so beautiful, Jennie.”

“Be careful or I will believe you.”

“Believe,” he breathed, his lips brushing hers.

“I thought we weren’t going to do this,” she murmured, loving the touch of his lips and the feel of his fingers tangling in her hair.

“I’ll stop. Just give me the word.”

She closed her eyes in sweet surrender. “Don’t stop.”

He began unbuttoning the front of her dress and a shiver of anticipation coursed through her.

“Don’t start this unless you mean to finish it this time,” she said.

His eyes smoldered with blue fire and he cupped one hand at the back of her neck, angling her toward him. Their mouths met in a soul-ravaging kiss.

Her clothes were suddenly tight and confining. She unbuttoned, unsnapped, and tugged her arms out of the sleeves, then shimmied out of the dress to let it pool at her feet. He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her up off the floor. He took a few steps and pressed her against the wall.

Clinging to him, she matched him kiss for kiss, her passion heightened with each stroke of his tongue. He set her on her feet and turned her around to untie and loosen her corset.

She rested her hands on the wall. “Yes, yes,” she whispered as the tight garment fell away, giving her more freedom. She pushed down her petticoats and kicked out of her shoes. Whirling around, wearing her chemise and stockings, she grabbed at the waist of his trousers and unbuckled his belt. Their hands moved deftly, urgently, to discard the rest of what kept their skin from touching, sliding, caressing.

He lifted her again and then the feather mattress embraced her along with Zach. This is what she had been yearning for, she thought, running her hands freely over his shoulders, his back, his hips. He felt taut and hot. She parted her legs, allowing his lower body to nestle into hers. She felt his rock-hard arousal and ached to know it more intimately. Her fingers closed around him.