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Authors: Sherryl Woods

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“She’s going to need the best,” Ryan said. “As much as I hate to say it, it’s an open-and-shut case.”

Though she had a lot of respect for Ryan—partly because he’d let her play on his ball team years ago despite the ribbing he’d taken from his buddies—she wasn’t impressed with his lack of enlightenment on this particular issue. “We’ll see,” she said neutrally.

She noticed that Ford’s piercing blue eyes narrowed just a little. What little mellowing she’d done where he was concerned vanished. He was just like all the other journalists she’d run across, after all. He was obviously more interested in a juicy story than in getting to the truth. There wasn’t a trace of compassion on his face.

“You’re going to try to get her off on a cold-blooded murder charge?” he demanded.

“It’s too soon to answer a question like that. Surely you know that she hasn’t even been arraigned on a specific charge yet. There were mitigating circumstances. You saw that for yourself. In fact, you’re just one of a great many people who witnessed the way Donny was treating her at the reunion dance a couple of weeks ago. I’ll be sure to include you on my witness list,” she said. Then she added with biting sarcasm, “After all, surely a journalist can be counted on to tell the truth, right?”

“What I saw or heard that night has nothing to do with this. Nothing entitles her to shoot him,” Ford said emphatically.

“Okay, okay,” Ryan said, intervening. “Let’s all cool down. We’re getting ahead of ourselves. Emma, go on over and talk to Sue Ellen. I’ll take Ford here out for a cup of coffee and explain a few facts of life to him.”

Emma scowled at the reporter. “Just be sure Mr. Hamilton understands that what you’re saying is off the record, Ryan. In fact, you might want to get his understanding of that in writing.”

This time Ford scowled at the sarcasm. “I know what off the record means.”

Emma gave him a frosty smile. “Glad to hear it,” she said as she walked away to talk to Sue Ellen. She
could feel the man’s gaze on her as she crossed the room and sat down. The effect was vaguely disconcerting, especially in light of her recent conclusion that her first impression of him had been the accurate one. The sensitivity he’d displayed that morning when she’d been feeling a bit down had obviously been an aberration.

Then all thoughts of Ford fled as she sat across from Sue Ellen and watched her old classmate dissolve into tears.

“I’m sorry,” Sue Ellen whispered brokenly. “I’m so sorry.”

“For what? Not for killing a man who repeatedly beat you, I hope.”

Sue Ellen gasped. “Donny was my husband.”

“He was an abuser,” Emma corrected. “You were a victim, sweetie. I’m not saying that shooting him was a good thing, but it was understandable. Now tell me what happened tonight. I can’t defend you if you hold anything back.”

“You’re going to represent me?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“But why?”

“Because you need me. Now, start at the beginning and tell me everything.”

Sue Ellen nodded. “He…Donny found that card you had left for me,” Sue Ellen told her, choking back another sob. She clenched her hands together and steadied her voice. “It was in my purse. I thought he’d never find it, but he was looking for money. He’d run out of beer and wanted to go out and buy some more. He dumped everything on the floor, and when he didn’t even find any loose change, he began to rip open all the compartments inside the purse.”

Emma shuddered, suddenly feeling responsible for everything that had happened. She had known what Donny might do if he learned that she’d interfered, but she had gone over there anyway. She’d wanted to be the avenging angel who dragged Sue Ellen out of there. Instead, she had just made matters worse, triggering tonight’s attack and ultimately the tragedy that would scar Sue Ellen forever, even if Emma got her acquitted.

“What did he do then?” she asked Sue Ellen.

“He asked me what it meant, who had given it to me.”

“Did you tell him?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t want him to come after you. He would have, too. He threatened my mom once, and all
she
did was take me to the doctor after he’d told me not to go.”

“So, there’s a record of your injuries on file with your doctor?” Emma asked.

Sue Ellen nodded. “But I told him I was attacked coming out of the bank, that someone had tried to steal my purse.”

Emma doubted that the doctor had bought it, not with everyone in town aware of Donny’s mistreatment of Sue Ellen.

“That’s okay. It’ll still help,” she reassured her client. “I’d like to get your doctor in here tonight to see you. Is that okay?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Sue Ellen said despondently. “Nothing matters.”

“Of course it matters,” Emma said fiercely. “We’re going to win this. You were defending yourself against a man who had brutalized you time and again.”

“But I haven’t even told you how it happened, how the gun went off.”

“And I want to hear that, but it’s the history of abuse that will really matter to a jury. That’s the heart of your defense. Remember that, Sue Ellen. I heard you went to the hospital a couple of times, too. Is that right?”

“Those were accidents,” Sue Ellen insisted.

Emma sighed, though she wasn’t all that amazed that Sue Ellen was still lying to the world, if not herself, about what had happened. “Let’s concentrate on tonight then. Finish telling me what he did. Did you argue about the card he found?”

The details weren’t surprising. Donny had been infuriated by the hot line number that Emma had left. He had begun brandishing a gun, but he was drunk. He had fallen and the gun had gone off.

“Where did the bullet go?”

“It broke the light in the ceiling fan.”

Emma made a note to ask Ryan if the bullet that hit the fan light had been recovered. “And then what?”

“Donny was groggy from falling down. I thought I could get the gun away from him and he would just fall asleep like always, but he didn’t. He chased me outside. I tried to go back in and lock him out, but he was too fast. He caught me and slapped me. Then he knocked me down and kept on hitting and hitting. He had the gun in his hand. I kept trying to knock it away, but he wouldn’t let go.” Tears welled up in her eyes again. “And then the gun just went off. For a minute, I waited to feel the pain, but there was nothing. And then there was all this blood.”

She wrapped her arms around herself and began rocking back and forth, her stare vacant. “So much blood,” she whispered. “So much blood.”

Emma hunkered down in front of Sue Ellen and
clasped her hands tightly. “It’s going to be okay, Sue Ellen. I swear to you that it will be okay.”

Sue Ellen regarded her with a defeated expression. “I can’t pay you. Maybe you should just let the court appoint somebody.”

“No. Unless you don’t want me, you and I are in this together from here on out.”

“But you live in Denver.”

“I can be here whenever I have to be,” Emma reassured her. “You’re not going through this alone. I’m a member of the Wyoming bar, thank goodness, and I’m going to provide a first-rate defense for you, Sue Ellen.”

Suddenly she recalled the way Ryan had looked at the baseball game when he’d first talked about Sue Ellen’s plight and begged Emma to intercede, and again tonight when Emma had shown up at the jail. Despite what he’d said earlier about it being an open-and-shut case, Emma had a feeling that when push came to shove, the sheriff would be in Sue Ellen’s corner as well.

Chapter 5

F
ord hated crusading feminists. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind after the scene at the jail that that was exactly what Emma Rogers was. She had reaffirmed his first impression from the night of the reunion dance when he’d found her sleek, cool appearance all too reminiscent of some women he’d run across in Atlanta and Chicago. Barracudas in the courtroom. No personal lives to speak of. Ice in their veins.

Of course, he had caught a glimmer of heat just now when Emma had turned on him to keep him away from her client. It had been an interesting little hint of passion, reminding him of the sparks that had sizzled between them when they’d danced. Too bad tonight’s evidence of that passion was so misguided.

Sue Ellen Carter was guilty as sin, no matter what had driven her to the fatal deed. Since it was too late for major coverage of the killing in this week’s paper, he intended to lay out all of the facts proving the crime
on next week’s front page. He wouldn’t have to convict her in an editorial—the truth would do that very nicely. There wouldn’t be a word in the article that Emma could argue was inaccurate.

Not that he expected her to praise the piece he was already beginning to compose in his head. Their earlier conversation about libel came back to haunt him, reminding him to report only the facts that weren’t in dispute.

“Any idea why Emma’s taking this case?” he asked Ryan when they were in a booth at Stella’s, coffee cups in front of them.

A surprising number of locals had, indeed, turned out despite the early hour, drawn by the desire for information on the tragedy that had occurred overnight. Sorrow seemed to cast a pall over the place. Conversations were quieter than usual, silences longer.

“Loyalty,” Ryan said succinctly. “That’s the kind of person she is.”

“But I thought she specialized in corporate law.”

“The way I hear it, that’s what pays the bills. She takes on cases like this
pro bono.

“Why this particular kind of case? I got the feeling this is about more than her friendship with Sue Ellen. It’s not as if Emma Rogers and Sue Ellen Carter have maintained close ties all these years, is it? She said as much to me at the reunion.”

Ryan shrugged. “I doubt it, but I have no idea. What difference does it make? Sue Ellen needs the best lawyer there is, and by all reports that’s Emma. We certainly don’t have anyone in town who’s up to this.”

“Representing Sue Ellen is going to be damned inconvenient with Emma living in Denver, though.”

“Apparently she doesn’t think so.” Ryan’s gaze nar
rowed suspiciously. “You did agree that all of this is off the record, didn’t you? I’ll be real unhappy if any comments I make about Emma wind up in the paper.”

Ford nodded. “Not a problem. This is just background.”

“The tension back there between you and Emma…you’re not going to let it get in the way of giving Sue Ellen a fair shake, are you?” Ryan asked, his expression even darker.

“Reporters and lawyers are natural enemies when it comes to something like this, at least until the dust settles and everyone knows whose side everyone else is on.”

“Do you have a side? I thought journalists were supposed to be impartial.”

“I am. I just want all the facts so readers can make up their own minds. Of course, you said it yourself back there, this is an open-and-shut case. And that comment was not off the record.”

Ryan’s scowl deepened. “Then I suppose you’d better add this to go along with it. It would be an open-and-shut case if Emma Rogers hadn’t agreed to handle it.”

Ford jotted down the new quote. “Duly noted.” He studied the bleak expression on the sheriff’s face. “Why do I get the feeling that this whole mess is personal where you’re concerned?”

“Like Emma said, Sue Ellen is a friend.”

“And that’s all? What about Donny? Wasn’t he one of your classmates, too?”

Ryan stiffened visibly. “What are you implying?”

Ford held up a placating hand. “I’m not implying anything. I’m asking straight out if there’s something between you and Sue Ellen. I noticed you were quick
to jump to her defense at the dance, and you sound mighty protective right now. I don’t hear a lot of regret for the fact that her husband is dead.”

“Of course I regret it, though to be perfectly honest, my reason for regretting it has more to do with what this will do to Sue Ellen than any sorrow over Donny. He was a pitiful excuse for a man.” Ryan frowned at Ford. “And
that
is definitely off the record.”

Ford studied him curiously. “How do you see her? As a suspect or as a victim?”

“A victim,” Ryan said without hesitation.

“I still get the feeling that your concern for her runs deeper than it might for some other victim,” Ford said, watching Ryan’s face for a reaction. There was an unmistakable tightening of the sheriff’s jaw before he spoke.

“She was a married woman,” Ryan said finally. “And she loved her husband.”

“That wouldn’t necessarily stop another man from caring about her,” Ford pointed out.

“No more than I care about any other citizen in Winding River who’s the victim of a crime. As for my actions at the dance, they were meant to keep the peace. I didn’t want Donny starting a brawl and ruining the night for everyone else.”

“If you say so.”

“I do. Now leave it be and tell me how you intend to get back in Emma’s good graces.”

Ford accepted the change of topic, even though the new one put him on the defensive. “Being in Emma’s good graces doesn’t concern me one way or another,” he said flatly.

Ryan gave him a wry, disbelieving look. “Yeah, right.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Your denials aren’t getting any better despite all the practice you’ve had making them today.”

Ford sighed. “Look, there was never a chance of anything happening between me and Emma Rogers. She’s an uppity, uptight lawyer from Denver. I’m just a small-town journalist.”

“Aw, shucks,” Ryan mocked. “I guess Chicago and Atlanta must not have left any marks on you after all. You still struggling to figure out which spoon to use to stir your coffee?”

Ford laughed despite himself. “Okay, wise guy, maybe we do have a few things in common. I don’t know her well enough to say. The odds are good that I never will.”

“And that’s the way you want it?”

“That’s the way it has to be, now especially.”

“Because she’ll be handling Sue Ellen’s case?”

“Exactly.”

“I could fill in a few details,” Ryan offered. “Save you some time getting to know her.”

Despite everything he’d just said, Ford craved more information. He still wanted to know what made Emma tick. She was as fascinating as she was aggravating.

“I imagine what you see is what you get,” he said, waiting to see if Ryan denied it.

“I suppose that depends on what you see. For instance, I doubt you know that she was a helluva shortstop.”

“She played baseball? That game I saw wasn’t some sort of fluke?”

“She played when we were kids,” Ryan confirmed. “On my team, as a matter of fact. I took a lot of teasing over that, until she started throwing people out and
hitting everything that was pitched to her. Then everybody wanted her on their team, but Emma was as loyal as they come. She stayed with me.”

“Did the two of you date?”

“No way. She never looked twice at any guy in town. She had her goals all carved out for herself very early on. And they didn’t include getting married and sticking around Winding River.”

“She was a snob?”

“No, just driven. She had ambition, and she was determined to achieve her dreams. She didn’t intend to let anything hold her back.”

Driven. Ambitious. Determined. All were words Ford would have agreed applied to Emma. But somehow they added up differently when Ryan used them. He turned them into compliments. It was obvious he admired and respected her. No, more than that, he genuinely liked her.

Fascinating, Ford thought again. Maybe there was more to Emma Rogers than he’d wanted to believe. Thanks to this shooting tonight and her determination to represent Sue Ellen, he was going to have more of an opportunity to observe her. Maybe he’d invite her out to dinner, spend a little time with her, all in the interest of getting his story about Sue Ellen Carter, of course.

Of course.

 

At the pleadings of her friends and, most of all, persuaded by the glazed look in Sue Ellen’s eyes, Emma knew she had no choice but to go all the way through this as Sue Ellen’s attorney. Whatever hope she’d held that she could turn the case over to someone else after
the arraignment vanished when she looked around for a likely candidate.

Seventy-year-old Seth Wilkins, who’d been the only practicing attorney in Winding River for the past forty-five years, thought Sue Ellen ought to plead guilty to manslaughter and accept a reduced sentence.

Emma was having none of that, not after she’d heard Sue Ellen’s story and talked to all of her neighbors. They had confirmed the frequency of the fights with Donny, the times the police had been called. There was a record of those 9-1-1 calls, which would add to her case, even if Sue Ellen had failed to press charges even once.

“Mommy, are we gonna stay with Grandma?” Caitlyn asked eagerly when another week came and went and they hadn’t left.

“For a while,” Emma told her. She had flown to Denver with the rest of the Calamity Janes to be with Cassie during her mom’s surgery, then taken the time to stop by her office to talk with her secretary and her associates and arrange for them to take over the most pressing appointments, at least for the next few days. Because of her workaholic tendencies in the past, all the partners had agreed that she deserved the time off.

She studied Caitlyn’s hopeful expression. “Would you like that? Are you having fun here?”

Caitlyn nodded, then threw her arms around Emma’s neck. “I
love
it here,” she said enthusiastically. “There’s horses and cows and kids my age. And Pete’s birthday is coming, and Uncle Matt says there’s gonna be cake and ice cream and everything. And Grandpa’s promised me that I’ll be able to ride my pony all by myself really, really soon.”

Emma grinned. “Well, we definitely wouldn’t want to miss any of that, would we?”

“No way,” Caitlyn said. “And then Jessie’s birthday is a month from now. And then pretty soon after that school starts. Jessie says the teacher for second grade is really, really nice. We could be in the same class. Wouldn’t that be the best?”

“Whoa, baby. I didn’t say we were going to stay forever, just until I can wrap up some of the business I have here. After that we’ll just come back and forth when I need to be in court.”

Caitlyn’s face fell. “But, Mommy, I want to live here. I really, really want to.” Her lower lip trembled, and tears spilled down her cheeks. “I hate Denver. I don’t ever want to go back. Not ever!”

With that she turned and ran into the house, letting the screen door slam and leaving Emma staring after her. This was a turn of events she definitely hadn’t counted on. With every day that passed, Caitlyn was clearly going to become more and more attached to the family and friends she had here. Tearing her away was going to break her heart.

“What’s wrong with Caitlyn?” her mother asked, stepping onto the porch. “She just ran through the house sobbing. And now she’s clinging to your father’s neck as if she’ll never let go.”

“She’s gotten the idea that we’re going to stay here forever. When I told her that we weren’t, she got upset.”

“Then maybe you should consider doing what she wants,” her mother said.

Emma was appalled by the suggestion for any number of reasons. “Give in to a six-year-old? She doesn’t know what’s best for her.”

“Oh, really?” Her mother sat down beside her, her expression somber. “Maybe she does, Emma. Maybe even a six-year-old can see that here she has family, that she has room to run and play, that her mother gets home at a decent hour and has time to spend with her. Maybe she’s aware that her mother’s not really happy in Denver, either, that she’s been using her work as a way to hide out from her feelings.”

Emma bristled at the criticism. “I work hard to make a good life for us.”

“To make money, you mean.”

“Are you suggesting that money’s not important?”

“Of course not, but there are things that are more important. I’ve just named a few of them. Can you honestly tell me that you’re happy?”

Emma sighed. “Mom, I’m doing the best I can.”

“Are you really?” Millie challenged. “Best for whom? You?”

“Both of us,” she insisted.

“Obviously Caitlyn doesn’t see it that way.”

“She’s six, dammit.”

Her mother frowned at the language. “You know better,” she chided gently.

“Sorry.”

“I doubt that.” Millie kissed Emma’s cheek. “Just think about what I’ve said. You’ve evaded my question about whether you’re truly happy. Think about that. Think about what your daughter’s said. Just because she’s a little girl doesn’t mean you can dismiss what she wants so easily.”

“I’ll think about it, Mom. I promise. Right now, though, I’m going to saddle up a horse and go for a ride.”

“Good. There was a time when that soothed you, put things back into perspective. Maybe it will again.”

“Maybe,” Emma agreed, though she didn’t hold out much hope for it.

With the sun beating down on her shoulders, she rode up into the foothills of the Snowy Range, letting the horse set the leisurely pace. Whenever troubling thoughts began to creep in, she shoved them aside. Keeping her mind blank was harder than she’d expected, especially when her mother had just given her so much to consider.

On the ride home she let the horse gallop full out, relishing the way the wind whipped her hair and stung her face. She felt exhilarated, if not any less conflicted by the time she got back to the corral.

Finding Ford sitting on the front porch waiting for her destroyed what little equanimity she had managed to achieve. She was still seething over his initial report on the shooting, which had all but condemned Sue Ellen on the front page. Fortunately, thanks to the tightness of the deadline, it had been little more than a four-inch blurb with a comparatively small headline. His report on the town’s success stories had been much longer but it hadn’t offset Emma’s reaction to that small item about the shooting. He’d been calling ever since for a follow-up interview for this week’s edition. She hadn’t returned his calls. No matter how fair he’d been to Lauren and the others, she didn’t fully trust him.

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