Leather and Lace

Chapter 25

The Friday morning Casey was to meet with Morgan to review his findings for her state pardon brought all of her misgivings to the surface. Sarah had spent a miserable night with severe vomiting. The poor woman had withered away to nearly nothing, and the constant sickness didn’t help the deterioration.

Both Casey and the reverend were exhausted. Sarah’s bed had to be stripped each time until there were no clean bed coverings left. Before sunrise, Casey managed to hang the wash out to dry. She already dreaded the morning with Morgan, certain his position as a reputable attorney was about to be challenged by his taking on an outlaw. She needed a little rest to perk up her spirits. Before returning to her own room, she checked on Sarah and found her crying. Wet vomit coated her hair and body. Casey put aside her own needs and bathed her dear friend. She brewed a cup of ginger tea to stop the retching, but the woman couldn’t drink it. Finally she slept.

Much later, Casey entered her own room only to discover Morgan’s arrival stood just moments away. She heard the door open downstairs and listened to the reverend greet him. Her entire body felt as though someone had given her a beating. The reverend needed his breakfast. She smelled of vomit, and her Bible hadn’t been opened. After peeling off her dress, she washed up and hurriedly dressed, then pinned up her hair. All the while, she stole glances at the clock racing ahead.

Emerging from her room shortly after nine, she cringed at the late hour. Morgan will be furious with me. She shuddered at the memory of his cold, hard stare. He’s gone to so much trouble for me, and I can’t even be on time.

“Good morning,” Morgan said as she hastened down the steps. “Whoa, girl.” He frowned.

“I’m so sorry.” Her heart pounded. “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

He held up a cup of coffee that had been made hours before. “My concern is you. Slow down. The reverend and I have been talking and drinking coffee.”

“Reverend, you haven’t eaten breakfast.” She brushed past the two men to the kitchen. If Morgan was drinking the reverend’s coffee, he’d have a surly disposition for sure.

“I’m fixin’ it now. Have the biscuits all ready to set in the oven. You’re the one who needs something to eat. I just told Morgan how you were up all night with Sarah.”

“We both were.”

“Maybe so, but I don’t have an appointment with the best lawyer in town. Why don’t you sit down for a little while, drink some coffee, and at least eat a biscuit and apple butter?”

“Oh, I can’t.” She glanced at Morgan, desperately needing to read his mood. “We’re already late.”

“Casey, calm down a bit.” Morgan reached for her hand. “I’m the fancy lawyer here, and I’m waiting on one of the reverend’s prize-winning biscuits. I don’t have anything scheduled except you.”

“I think I’d rather get it over with.” Her stomach twisted.

“And we will, honey. A few more minutes won’t make any difference. I think you’ll be pleased with what I have to say.” He sounded so sweet and caring that she believed every word.

“All right.” The coffee did smell wonderful, even if the reverend’s strong brew tasted like prairie dirt, and she’d felt the pangs of hunger long before dawn.

“By the way, you look beautiful,” Morgan said.

The reverend chuckled. “I believe those are the words spoken by a man in love and looking forward to his wedding day. Mmm, wouldn’t a Christmas wedding be nice?”

Casey shook her head. “You two are a matched pair.” I’m not ready to get married. There’s too much left unsettled in my life.

“I’m taking my coffee up to Sarah’s room,” the reverend said. “I’ll be praying for you two this morning.”

Once the reverend disappeared, Morgan turned to her. “I’m sorry you had such a bad night. You look exhausted.”

“I really am all right. Tired mostly, and nervous about my case.”

He traced his finger on top of hers and grasped the cup. “Are those feelings why you’re avoiding me?”

“I haven’t been avoiding you.” But she had.

“Honey, something has had you upset since that afternoon at my office.”

“The problem isn’t you.” I can’t tell him I’m afraid of him.

He raised an eyebrow. A worry line etched across his forehead. “Are you having second thoughts about marrying me?” He breathed deeply. “You’re expecting the old Morgan to lash out at you without warning.”

While she scrambled for words, he must have realized the truth. He lifted her chin, and her gaze met his. “I’ll earn your trust, Casey. I won’t have you afraid of me.”

She turned her head. “Maybe I’m just like some scared cat with all that’s happening. It’s so hard to be cheerful around Sarah when I see her dying in front of me, and it hurts to see the reverend struggle with his emotions. Then I worry about Bonnie and Ben, afraid they will get caught in the middle of my problems. And you’re spending all your hours on this case to clear my name. Well, my jumpiness can’t possibly be your fault.”

He brushed a kiss across her fingertips, and she swallowed the lump in her throat, which lately seemed to accompany every waking moment.

“One day,” he began, “you and I will be able to put all the misunderstandings and problems of today behind us. Until then, we must talk. I can’t possibly know how you feel or what you’re thinking unless you tell me. Agreed?”

She nodded, and he patted the hand still within his grasp.

“It’s easier posing as Shawne Flanagan.” She attempted a smile.

“We’re about to remedy any more pretense. I believe you’re going to be pleased with what I’ve put together.”

*****

At ten thirty, Morgan ushered Casey into his law office. By then, they’d taken time to pray, and she’d relaxed a little—or so he hoped. He saw the fear in her eyes, and it had nothing to do with clearing her name. Perhaps a year ago, she might have hid it better. Back then, the wall she’d built around her didn’t leave a weak spot for emotions to take over. But she was incredibly strong, much more than she realized.

I’m to blame. He’d seized her trust, then threw it back in her face without explanation. He’d waited too long to tell her the truth about Kathleen, and he may have lost her for good. Perhaps battling for Casey’s love was Morgan’s most difficult struggle, but first he had to set her free from those who chased her.

She removed her shawl and laid it over a chair. With a sigh, she studied his few furnishings, then walked behind his desk to the bookcase filled with law books. Her fingers traced the engraved gold lettering along the spines as she moved from one to the other. “It’s dusty again,” she finally said.

“Sorry. I raised the window.” He studied her, wondering what was going on in her pretty head.

“These books teach you the laws of our country?”

He smiled. “Yes.”

She whirled around and returned his smile. “Morgan, you must be very smart.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

She wore a dark blue skirt and a white blouse. Her swept-up red-brown hair and the curls framing her face gave her the appearance of a fine lady. No hint of an outlaw.

“I believe God is our hope and strength, but having this much knowledge at your fingertips has to make you feel confident.”

He chuckled. “Not always. I sure felt better when that friend of Ben’s left town yesterday.”

“Have you and Ben talked about a pardon from Governor Ireland?”

“I had a feeling you’d bring that up.” Morgan lifted a chair from behind his desk and moved it beside hers. “I’ve compiled information I want to go over with you.” He opened a leather satchel and removed letters and documents pertaining to her case. “I’ve recorded your story in detail. You’ll find dates, places, and types of crimes that the Jenkins gang committed while you rode with them. Remember the night at the parsonage when I questioned you about the role you played during his robberies? Note”—he pointed to items of interest—“you stated specifically your whereabouts during each one of them. He had you posted as a lookout with the horses or back at the campsite. Also, I have a signed statement from Doc about risking your life to help me. He added a lengthy portion attesting to your good character. In the past six months, newspapers and wanted posters report you’ve been involved with gang activities while you were living at the parsonage.” He handed her the various documents and studied her reaction to each one.

“Everything has been signed or witnessed and dates verified,” she said once she completed reading each one. “So this is what you’ve been doing these past weeks.” She read both of Doc’s letters as a result of Morgan’s request and hers. “I know the problem is where there’s no proof of my innocence.” She straightened up the stack and handed the papers to Morgan. “If you don’t contact the federal marshals for me, then I’ll have Ben do it.” She clasped her hand over his, sending tiny shivers up his spine. “Don’t try to talk me out of this. I’ve thought of little else for months.”

This would seal her coffin. I can’t let her do it. “What you’re telling me is dangerous. I’m not so sure it’s necessary.”

“I have to do this. Will you arrange it, please?”

Morgan studied her placid face, the one he first saw in the mountains of Utah. “I’m sure I can secure your pardon without endangering your life.”

“Have you forgotten all the things Jenkins has done? What good does it do me to ask for a pardon and not give something back in return? And do I need to remind you that he has not given up his search for me?” She tilted her head. “Did you speak with Ben’s friend from Austin?”

“I met him. He’s determined. Of course, I made sure I came across as a small-town lawyer. He wasn’t interested in me.” Morgan tapped his pen on the desk as though the distraction might alter her stand. He grappled for words—not a normal problem for him, but the woman he loved wanted to step into a viper pit. “You might have to change your name again and move to some obscure town far from Texas.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to give up your home and family, Morgan, but to me, any other way is selfish.” She turned to him and tilted her head, her face a vision of peace. Yet he knew her deepest need. She had to free herself from running and hiding. Or she would die trying. “You know I can’t do anything less, not only for me, but for all the Kathleens and Morgans of the world.”

“I want to stop you, but I don’t know how. What can I say or do to change your mind?”

“Nothing. The price of freedom is not too dear to me.” Her words swept over him like a soft breeze. “Simply help me do what must be done. You have no idea what it’s like to constantly look to see who might be behind you. There’s no safe place. All I can do is stand and fight.”

His heart swelled with emotion, causing him to say nothing for several moments. She was right. He hated to admit it, but the state would look favorably on her offer.

“I’ve been called many things,” she said. “You’ve heard them, everything from Jenkins’s woman to a she-devil. I want it all to end.”

He studied her, the woman he loved. From her stubborn stance, he knew she’d have Ben help her if he refused. This way he could still protect her. Casey, my love, must it be this way? He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands behind his head. “I’ll need to follow up on a man in San Quentin who rode with Jenkins for a while—Leroy Wilson. I want to see if he’d consider backing up any of your statements.”

“Leroy Wilson? How did you know about him?”

“I put him there. He despises me for sure, but he may not feel the same way about you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“After Leroy was shot, I found out about it. Hate drove me to track down every man who ever rode with Jenkins. I went to the railroad folks and said if they’d let me represent them, I’d not charge for my services. I worked hard to get him into prison, and I doubt if he’s forgotten it.”

“So much I never knew. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s in the past, remember?” Morgan said. “Do you recall anything about him that might help us?”

Casey nodded. “He’s not a smart man, but I’m not so sure anything he’d say about me would be good.”

He leaned toward her and directed his words straight to her heart. “Then we’ll find out together. The risk is someone may find out what we’re doing. You didn’t ride all of those years with Jenkins and not comprehend exactly what I’m saying. Those men might understand if you received a pardon. They know you aren’t guilty. But every outlaw around will be after you once they got word you sold them out to the law.” He hesitated. “They’d cut you down in front of a town full of witnesses.”

She smiled. “I’m too tough for you to scare.”