Leather and Lace

Chapter 22

Morgan and Casey descended the stairs to the kitchen. They stood amid the shadows of evening and fears of the unknown to face whatever lay ahead. Morgan’s body craved rest just like the day he’d talked with the preacher about Jenkins and made his peace with God. Odd, how the mental and spiritual aspects of life were more demanding than the physical.

The tantalizing smells of supper greeted him. He’d long since forgotten the hour. “I’m suddenly starved.” He hoped his words lightened the heaviness threatening to strangle them.

Casey offered a shaky smile as they made their way toward his mother.

“There you are.” His mother lifted a pan of corn bread from the cookstove to the table. He smelled the jalapeños and beans, and his stomach growled.

“Supper’s ready. I hope you’re hungry,” she said.

“Mama, we need to talk to all of you.” He clutched Casey’s hand firmly. He sensed she needed strength as much as he did.

Mama waved her hand as though nothing could be of importance, but he saw her watery eyes. “Why don’t we eat supper first?”

“I know Grant told you what happened.”

She faced both of them with a strong determination ever present in all of her dealings. “Yes, he has, Son. I know the truth. All of it.”

“I’m so sorry.” Casey’s words nearly broke.

“You forget I consider you one of my own.” She reached for Casey and hugged her close. Morgan held firmly to her hand as much for himself as for her.

“You always knew something wasn’t right.” Casey dabbed at her eyes. “The way you looked at me when I stumbled over why I’d come to Kahlerville.”

“You tried many times to tell us. I never imagined . . . I never thought it could be this.” Her eyes held the pain of past remembrances. “This is hard, but we can work through it. My dear girl, the burdens you’ve carried.” She turned to Morgan. “Once, when you and I were talking, you called her Casey. I wondered then if she was linked to Jenkins. Perhaps the same person. Except the woman I read about in the newspapers was not who I saw in Shawne.”

“I’m sorry for the deceit.” Casey hesitated. “I told the reverend and Sarah. No one else in Kahlerville.”

Not a hint of condemnation creased his mother’s features. “We’ll find a way to make this right. God always has a plan.”

Casey blinked several times and touched the wetness under her nose. She must have left her handkerchief in the bedroom. Morgan reached into his pocket for a clean one and saw Bonnie standing in the doorway. Her face was mottled red. Morgan knew the truth had been quite a shock for his frail sister.

“What about you, Bonnie?” he said. “I know you’re shaken, and I hate to think we caused those tears.”

Bonnie lowered her head, as though denying her emotions. “I don’t know what to say.” She paused, and he knew she was trying desperately not to cry.

“I haven’t forgotten that you saw Kathleen right after it happened and that you’re still suffering from it,” said Morgan.

“When Grant told us, I wanted to believe Shawne could not possibly be Casey O’Hare. The outlaw.” Bonnie’s lips quivered. “I want to say the right things and be forgiving, but I feel as though Kathleen’s grave has just been opened, and it hurts all over again. Shawne, I mean Casey, is my best friend, and I do see why she lied to us, but this is so hard.”

Bonnie turned to Morgan. “Now I see why she’s so different from me, and I understand why sometimes you treated her so badly. I guess I need time and prayer to love you both the way I should.”

Morgan stroked her pale tresses as though she were a child. “Bonnie, I don’t expect any miracles, but I know God will help us. I’m asking you to consider one thing as far as Casey and I are concerned.”

Bonnie nodded. “I’ll do anything.”

“God needed to hit me hard with something powerful, something that would get my attention. He used Casey to make me realize I was selfish and indulging in my own self-pity.”

“And I should have told the truth right from the start,” Casey said. “I thought I could start all over my own way. Please forgive me, Bonnie. You are the first real friend I’ve ever had, and I don’t want to lose you. You are all I ever wanted to be—a godly woman, a real lady. I understand if you need time. I’d do anything to change the past.”

“I’ll try,” Bonnie said. “I want it all back the same, too.” She brushed away her tears, then held out her hand to Casey. “I’m afraid we have another problem.”

“What?” Morgan’s thoughts flew in a dozen directions.

“Ben’s asked me lots of questions about Casey. Where she came from. Her family, and does the reverend know anything about her. I’m afraid he might suspect the truth.”

Casey inhaled sharply. “I’ve wondered the same thing—nearly left town because of him.”

“Perhaps I shouldn’t see him anymore.”

“No. Bonnie, I won’t stand in the way of your happiness.” Casey spoke with the strength Morgan remembered in Vernal when she announced she was leaving him and Doc. “I’ve seen the way you look at him, and I won’t have it.”

“I could never forgive myself if he arrested you,” Bonnie said.

“If he does, it’s because of what I’ve done—not because of anything about you.”

“I think we all need to put ourselves in Morgan’s and Casey’s places,” Grant said in a way that was uncharacteristic of his manner. He normally resorted to silence in matters of emotion. Yet today he’d displayed traits so much like their father. “Who knows how we might have reacted in the same situation? We’ve always had each other to lean on. But Casey didn’t have anyone, and Morgan refused our help.” He jammed his hands inside his jeans pockets. “I believe the only part I can play in this family is to support my brother and Casey. We have too much at stake to risk splitting our family. Remember how Pa used to talk about the war? He said most folks were against the North and the South fighting and killing each other, but what he felt was important was the common goal of preserving the Union. Isn’t that what we have here? We’re a family, and if we don’t stick together through this, well, then we have nothing.”

Admiration, respect, and love for his brother seized Morgan. “If Pa were here today, he’d be so proud of you. And I’m honored to say you’re my brother. I hope I can make up for the past, because there are some lessons I need to learn from you.”

Long after the evening’s conversations ceased and silence ruled through the house, Morgan weighed the words, feelings, and reactions of those he loved.

One matter convicted his soul. Casey had to be cleared of the charges against her without delay, and that meant the information he’d started compiling for her case had to be put to use. With Ben calling on Bonnie and asking questions, this whole thing could explode. Tomorrow Ben would be there for dinner. Could his old friend be trusted, or would he see this as an opportunity to advance his reputation as a lawman?

The following morning, Morgan left the cabin at daylight for Kahlerville. He hated staying at his old home. Ghosts from the past still haunted him every second he was there. The idea of moving his things into the bunkhouse made sense.

Today he wanted to see about reopening his law office and continuing his work on clearing Casey. He planned to send a telegram to Doc in Vernal for more than one reason. Foremost, he had to talk to Ben. His old friend needed to be on Casey’s side.

When Ben wasn’t at his office or at the boardinghouse eating breakfast, Morgan sought out the owner of the newspaper. The sound of the printing press and the smell of the machine reminded him of the constitution’s guarantee of freedom of speech.

“Mornin’, Thomas. I see you’re getting the news out.”

Thomas lifted his gaze from the typeset. A wide grin spread over the man’s face, and he reached out to shake Morgan’s hand. “Good to see you. What can I do for you?”

“I’d like to take up practicing law again,” he told the balding man. “Is my old office still available?”

“Everything’s just how you left it. Just a mite dusty.” He opened up a paper-laden desk and pulled out a key. “I’ve been looking for the day when you’d walk in here and ask for this.”

Morgan pulled out a wad of bills. “Here’s six months’ rent and a little more for all the trouble I’ve been. Can you mention what I’m doing in the paper? I plan to open in about a week.”

“Sure can. Folks will be mighty happy to know they have a lawyer again.” He handed Morgan the key. “You look good, Morgan. Real good.”

“Must be the clean living.”

Thomas laughed. “You forget your pa and I pulled you out of more trouble than I care to recall.”

“That’s why I ended up in law school.”

“Better there than jail.”

Ouch! The sound of that curdled his stomach. He’d waited too long to work on Casey’s problems. Once outside, the sun seemed to light a faint path through the center of town to the small building beside Kahlerville’s general store and post office. Hard to remember the last time he’d called the place his. He stuck the key in the door and stepped inside. A flood of memories rushed in, but they weren’t all bad as he had anticipated. A lot of good times and good things had happened here. Helping folks. That’s what he enjoyed doing the most. The ranch had its roots in what made him an Andrews, but his heart lay in practicing law.

He glanced around the office. Stale air met his nose, and dirt from the street covered the outside of the window. Beneath a thick layer of dust sat an oaken desk that the reverend had helped him build. A bookcase leaned against the wall on one side of the room, and two chairs sat against the opposite side. His law books and plaques were stored away at the ranch. Mama had taken care of packing up his office after he’d taken off after Jenkins. Immediately, he envisioned everything neat and clean. Somewhere at home was the sign he’d once hung above the outside door: MORGAN ANDREWS, ATTORNEY AT LAW.

A sense of pride and humility for how he could help Casey and the community rooted deep inside him. This afternoon he’d pull out the books and start compiling research. Tomorrow, providing Grant didn’t need him, he’d clean up the office. Casey might want to help.

The next item on this morning’s list, before trying to find Ben again, was to send a telegram to Doc. This time of day, the telegraph office was usually empty. He didn’t need folks listening in on his business. Furthermore, he had to be careful how he worded the message in case the clerk couldn’t be trusted.

Inside the small establishment, Morgan greeted a young man barely old enough to shave. After a few pleasantries, he pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. “Can you send a message for me?”

The clerk took the paper and read through it before tapping out the words.

Doc. Need a referral letter for our friend. I’m taking the case. Back to practicing law. Time crucial.

Morgan waited until the clerk finished, then tucked the piece of paper back into his pocket. He’d follow up with a letter. Someday the price of a telegram wouldn’t be ten times the cost of sending a letter. But in this case, time ticked away. The door behind him creaked and captured his attention.

“Mornin’, Morgan.” The cold, hard look on Ben’s face spoke fathoms.

“Mornin’. I’ve been looking for you.”

“That’s what I heard.” Ben nodded at the clerk and then turned back to Morgan. “You finished here?”

“Yes. Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”

“I’d rather talk in quiet.”

Morgan followed him out of the telegraph office and down the empty street. “What’s wrong? Do you need to talk about Bonnie?”

Ben threw him a hard stare. “I’m through being a fool, Morgan. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on between you and Miss Shawne Flanagan?” He spat the name like it was venom.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Little late, don’t you think?”

“Not for old friends.”

“You’ve got some tall explaining to do on this one. Outlaws won’t be taking over my town. I have a reputation here. You of all people should know that.”

“It’s not your town. It’s everyone’s town.”

“I’m not in the mood for your lawyer-twisting words.”

“And I’m not in the mood for you sending an innocent woman to her death.”

“You of all people should see what this woman has done to you. Doesn’t Kathleen mean anything to you anymore? What about your family and the people in this community? And the reverend? Maybe I already know. Prostitution has been linked with Casey O’Hare a time or two. I imagine she has her ways.”

Morgan fought to keep from slamming a fist into Ben’s face. He took a few deep breaths and formed his words. “Do you honestly think I’d be involved with anything that would desecrate the Kathleen’s memory? Or for that matter desecrate God?”

“I don’t know.” Ben’s words softened. “You’ve been gone a long time, and nothing I’ve learned makes sense. Have you forgotten that I’ve sworn to uphold the law?”

“Would you hear me out first? I need your help.”

“Need my help? Do you think I’d sacrifice the safety of this town over some lovesick, half-crazed lawyer and a wanted killer?”

“I think you’d give me a chance to state the truth.”

Ben fumed. His face had long since reddened. “Guess I owe you that much.”