Leather and Lace

Chapter 30

Casey faced the day of the meeting with the federal marshal with a mixture of dread and expectation. For months this meeting had been what she wanted most. But a twinge of fear twisted at her insides. She could walk away with the hope of the president pardoning her or be handcuffed and face a hanging. Fear wrapped its cloak about her, and she fought the urge to run.

Morgan arranged the meeting at an abandoned ranch house about five miles west of Kahlerville—away from those folks who knew her. There, questions and answers would determine her fate.

Casey took great pains in dressing. She didn’t want to appear like a member of the ladies’ aid society. Neither did she want to look like she’d just ridden in off the plains—or stepped out of a brothel. After much thought, she chose a simple brown street dress with a waist-to-foot inset of cream and brown print, which she had often worn to church. She tucked her unruly hair into a chignon at the back of her head and selected a dark brown hat trimmed in cream and green ribbon. The costume also gave the impression that she’d traveled some distance to Kahlerville to meet with the federal marshal.

She read through notes she’d carefully penned about various outlaws. Not knowing what might be asked of her, she fretted over the information. I could ride to the border and live out my days in Mexico.

A whisper of an ambush rode the wind, a trap set by the federal marshal to lure her into their jurisdiction. She wished she knew more about the law. She wished she knew more about far too many things. Was she properly prepared for the upcoming ordeal? Had she dressed so Morgan would be pleased?

Run, you fool. You’ll hang.

Just when she began to doubt, she realized the tiny voice shaking her resolve had not come from God. I can do this or I will die trying. Living a lie is no life at all.

Casey recalled all those times when life had challenged her to the fullest and she’d used a mastery of wit as her strength. A jury held in its hands the life of anyone charged with a crime. A judge had the authority to sentence her to a hanging or prison. But God had given her eternal life with Him. She trusted Him, not anything else. My thoughts sound courageous, Lord, but You see the panic that staggers me.

She took a ragged breath and descended the stairs to find Jocelyn, Bonnie, Grant, and Ben in the kitchen. Through the window, she saw Morgan waiting by the wagon.

“You look beautiful this morning,” Jocelyn said.

“Thank you.” She forced a shaky smile.

“We just prayed for you.” Jocelyn gave her a hug. “This is the day you’ve waited for. We’re on your side.”

Casey glanced at those she’d learned to love. If a bullet found her today, she had no regrets in her decision to leave Jenkins’s gang. “I appreciate you all. Promise me if something goes wrong today that you’ll not let Morgan suffer alone. He’ll need you.”

Jocelyn nodded. “We promise. But that won’t happen.”

Casey thought of all the ways the meeting could go wrong, but she refused to state them. Instead she bid them good-bye and again thanked them for all they’d done.

Outside, Morgan waved. “You look like you’re headed to the city. Very beautiful.”

“Then you approve?”

His attention on her held a gentle glow. “Oh yes.”

Their gazes met, and a host of memories passed between them. Some folks lived a lifetime without sharing what they’d been through. Words could not have defined the bond.

He helped her onto the wagon, and he climbed beside her. “Are we ready, pretty lady?”

“Not sure.” She trembled. “How is it that I can want something and not want it at the same time?”

He picked up the reins. “Sounds like how I felt when I first met you. Odd, I didn’t have a choice.”

“Neither do I.”

He urged Twister away from the ranch. Each creak sounded like a warning. Casey took Morgan’s hand and held on to it tightly, as though having his fingers entwined with hers symbolized God’s presence.

The last few days had brought in a very warm spell, so unlike the usual Texas February. The sun beat down mercilessly, reducing her to a puddle of liquid heat. She worried if the high temperatures might cloud her thinking. Her defense held no room for half-truths, and any wrong facial expression might threaten the attempt to prove her innocence. Neither the heat nor Morgan’s attempt at conversation stopped her heart and mind from racing. As the wagon inched toward the secluded site, she fretted about everything from the moment she’d joined a gang of outlaws.

Morgan had spent hours deliberating every twist of her case, and she didn’t dare shatter any of his expectations. Suddenly her thoughts turned to the sacrifice he’d made for her freedom. He’d committed to clear her name and had worked long and hard for this moment. She recalled the late hours, the times of prayer, and the heated debates when they disagreed on what should and should not be said. Now it all lay behind them. Every part of her must convey the truth and honor God with assured confidence. Only He knew the outcome of today, and she desperately needed His peace.

She reached for the canteen of water and allowed the liquid to dampen her lips and slowly trickle down her parched throat. Immediately her mind soared back to the past when long rides brought the taste of dirt, and she kept her eyes peeled for anyone who might be trailing her.

Morgan squinted at the sun directly overhead and took out a gold pocket watch to check the time. Reaching for a handkerchief from inside his suit jacket, he wiped the sweat from his face and neck.

“Having second thoughts about your Sunday suit?” Casey felt a deep desire to speak of anything except the obvious.

He tugged at his jacket, no doubt to send a breeze up his dampened back. “Perhaps,” Morgan said. “Can you believe this heat? Feels like August.” He flashed a smile her way. “But you still look beautiful.”

With a sigh, she wondered what kind of picture she painted on this hot afternoon. “Talk to me, Morgan. Anything to help me get through these miles.”

“I wish nothing more than to take your place. Today marks the day Casey O’Hare publicly announces her allegiance to the laws of this country. Few men have the courage I see in you, and certainly none are as pretty or as feisty. Sweetheart, we can turn this wagon around right now and head back to the ranch. You understand that once you’re finished with the federal marshal, every outlaw in the country will be after you.”

She nodded while perspiration trickled over her forehead and stung her eyes. “You’ve warned me of this before, but I have to tell what I know. Running is no life at all. If the President grants me this pardon, I can rely on the law’s protection from Jenkins.” She rubbed the top of his knuckles with her gloved hand. “I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit how much this scares me.”

“Let me pray for you,” he said, and she nodded. “Oh God, help us to say the right words today. I pray we find favor in Your eyes and our mission will be acceptable to You. I thank You for this courageous woman who is putting her life on the line to bring the truth to light. I am so unworthy of her, and I thank You every day for her. Whatever happens today, I know You will be beside us. I thank You for Your guidance and Your hand on our lives. Amen.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. With all of her other self-doubts, why did she still question marrying Morgan? Not now. I’ll have hours to consider this once today is over.

She drew a lace handkerchief from her handbag and patted beneath her eyes. Where had this heat come from? Had Satan set foot into the day? Sensing Morgan’s gaze upon her, she turned in his direction and silently reassured him of her composure. The remaining two miles were ridden in silence.

Up ahead at the abandoned ranch house, two horses stood tied to a hitching post, and two men waited on a decaying porch.

“Are there two marshals?” Casey whirled around to see if others were there. Had she been led into a trap? Had Morgan betrayed her?

He glanced about them. “I was told one, but this is good. Both men will hear your testimony.”

She refused to tremble. The marshals might see her fear. “Yes, you’re right.” If one didn’t believe her, the other one might.

The closer the wagon drew them to their destination, the more apprehensive she felt. The unknown tugged at her senses. She wanted the confrontation with the federal marshals to settle all the accusations against her. But it could all go wrong. Raging fear threatened to seize her.

“I feel your trembling,” Morgan said. “Remember who’s in control.

Once they stopped in front of the deserted cabin, Morgan assisted Casey down from the wagon and escorted her to the darkly tanned federal marshals who stood like statues against the rickety cabin. She eyed them evenly and tried to imagine what preconceived notions lay in their heads.

Morgan greeted the nearest man and shook his hand. “Morgan Andrews.”

Both marshals looked as though their faces had been carved in stone. Casey had seen the lean, hungry look before. She wondered if their ambitions were for justice or to seal their reputations.

“Zach Bennett, federal marshal,” the rail-thin man said. “And this is Joe Henderson.”

The other man nodded, and Morgan shook his hand. “This young woman is Miss Casey O’Hare.”

Casey stepped forward and lightly grasped each man’s hand. Pushing aside any visible signs of emotion, she forced pleasantries. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I trust you haven’t been waiting long in this heat.”

“No, ma’am. We were here but a few minutes before catching sight of the wagon.” Zach’s beady eyes reminded her of a hawk. Could he see her soul?

“Shall we get down to business?” Joe said. “It’s mighty hot, and we have a lot of work to do.”

“First I’d like to see your credentials,” Morgan said. Both men produced identification for him to examine. When he finished, he handed their papers to Casey.

Once convinced Zach Bennett and Joe Henderson were indeed federal marshals, she handed their documents back to Morgan, and he returned them to their owners. “Thank you, gentlemen,” he said. “Your papers appear to be in order.”

Morgan gave Casey his full attention. Compassion emitted from his turquoise eyes. “Are you ready?”

“Yes. Let’s get this done.” And for the first time, she relaxed.

Inside the cabin, it took several minutes to wipe the dust and dirt from a roughly constructed table and find suitable seating. They opened doors and ripped frayed cloth from the windows to let in light and fresh air. The stuffy odor plus the stale scent of tobacco reminded Casey of days best forgotten. Still, the atmosphere would aid her in recollecting sights, sounds, and smells of another time.

She sat on the only chair directly across the table from Zach and Joe, who swung their legs over a rough-sawn pine bench. Morgan pulled up a wobbly stool next to Casey. Out of habit, she gauged how quickly she could get to the door. Some things from her former life never changed.

“We understand you’re willing to help us locate wanted men,” Joe said. “Is this true?”

“Yes, sir.” She observed paper and pen before Zach. His penetrating gaze nearly unnerved her. “Is Mr. Bennett writing down everything I say?”

“Yes, ma’am. The questions and answers will be recorded exactly as they are spoken,” Joe said.

Casey studied the man’s leather like face. No emotion. She well knew that stance. “May we see them when we’re finished?”

“I’ll take notes for us.” Morgan already had paper and pen in hand. “But I want to see what you’ve recorded at the close of our meeting.”

“We can do that.” Joe cleared his throat. “We understand you’ve received a pardon from Governor Ireland of the state of Texas for criminal activity, and you want to request the same from President Arthur.”

“That is correct.” Casey sat erect with the perfect posture she’d seen from the town’s ladies. Be with me, Lord. I can’t do this alone.

“Upon the completion of this meeting today, the governor has entrusted me with your official pardon, signed and sealed. He will then instruct his secretary to file the proper papers with the President. Let us begin with a few formalities. Would you kindly state your name?”

“Casey Shawne O’Hare.”

“And are you the same Casey O’Hare who rode with the Jenkins gang for seven years?”

“Yes, sir. I joined them when I was fourteen with my brother, Tim. At the time, Jenkins thought I was a boy. When he discovered otherwise, he forced me to continue riding with them.”

She detested the time it took to record the questions and answers. Her patience ran thin each time the two men painstakingly wrote each word. She hadn’t told Morgan about the two weeks that Jenkins didn’t know she was a girl. Everything changed when he caught her bathing . . . She shook her head to dispel the thought.

“How were you forced to ride with them? This is no longer a country of slaves.”

“Davis Jenkins threatened to kill my brother if I left the gang. He also threatened to sell me as a . . . . prostitute.”

“What’s your brother’s full name?”

“Timothy John O’Hare. He still rides with Jenkins.” She hesitated. “Although I heard he and Jenkins split.” Her voice sounded faraway as if it belonged to someone else.

“Didn’t you just state Davis Jenkins threatened to kill him if you left?” Joe’s eyes narrowed.

“I’ve witnessed what Tim has done.” She took a deep breath. “My brother chose his path a long time ago. If I thought he’d change, I wouldn’t be here today.” Why did her heart have to pound so hard? “It took me a long time to see that my brother had become just like the rest of them.”

Joe removed his bandanna and wiped the sweat from his brow. “So why did you finally leave the gang?”

“I hated how they lived and what they did. My life seemed headed nowhere except a hangman’s noose or a bullet. I chose to take my chances and run from Jenkins rather than stay. I realized I would someday have to face charges for the crimes held against me, but I had to take that gamble.” Was she rambling?

“It says here that although you held horses for the gang during holdups, you did not commit any of the crimes we’ve listed, except the shooting of a man in Billings, Montana.”

“The man recovered,” Morgan said.

Joe nodded. “I’ve read the letters written on Miss O’Hare’s behalf. Each one will require an investigation. Your statement given to us by your lawyer, Mr. Andrews here, indicates a strong desire to lead a decent, respectable life. Is this also true?” Joe had not moved since they began.

“Yes, sir. The statement also says I’m a Christian. Jesus Christ is now the Lord of my life.”

The federal marshal coughed and shifted his feet. “Yes, ma’am. It does state your—your newfound religion.” Zach handed Joe a map of the western United States and territories. He turned it for her to see. “We’ve been unable to penetrate a good many of the outlaws’ hideouts. Are you willing to give us a hand?”

“Yes, sir. I mentioned this in my statement to Governor Ireland.”

“Would you kindly indicate how we could get into the Hole in the Wall?”

Couldn’t you have asked me something easier? Casey found no need to examine the map. “You can’t. There’s only one way inside—through the opening. Two men with Winchesters can easily hold off any posse. Most likely you’d have to bribe another outlaw to gain access.”

“What about Brown’s Park?” Joe pointed to the familiar area in the far northwestern corner of Colorado and the Utah Territory.

She didn’t need to take a look at his map there, either. “It will take a long time before lawmen can cleverly outdo the outlaws in this area.”

“Why?” Joe’s question sounded angry, even hostile.

Casey carefully picked her words. “Outlaws are clever. They aren’t afraid to take a gamble on the odds against them. This is serious business for them. Not only are they getting rich, but they’re also working on their reputations.” She hesitated and clenched her fists in her lap. “Most lawmen—forgive me, gentlemen, for being blunt—form a posse and take off after them without any forethought or plan. Now I can show you trails leading out of the various hideouts.” She leaned over the table and pointed to Brown’s Park. “But it won’t assist you in finding outlaws. It will only help your men get out alive.”

Joe continued the lengthy process of questions and answers. At last he folded the map and handed it back to Zach. “Your information will definitely help us. We also have several wanted men who’ve disappeared. Possibly headed north to Canada or south to Mexico and South America. Given the list, can you help us locate them?”

“I’ll do my best,” Casey said. “Please understand, the locations may be outdated. Usually outlaws return to the same hideouts to rest up and plan their next job. But with a hint of trouble, they move on. An outlaw changes his name as often as respectable folk say their prayers.”

The meeting lasted until early evening. They broke once for water and continued on. Casey and Joe were tense with the tedious questions and answers, and the other two who had labored over the written portion were equally tired.

“I believe we’re finished, Miss O’Hare,” Joe finally concluded. “I want to thank you for your cooperation. It will be rewarded. I promise.”

Was he sincere? “I appreciate the government giving me this opportunity to tell the truth and possibly clear my name.” She watched for movements in his face. None. No help at all. “How long before I can expect to hear from the President?”

“Six weeks, I’m sure. Since the governor’s office researched your other documents, the process should not be any longer than that.” He pulled a folded piece of paper from his saddlebag on the table. “Here’s the governor’s pardon just as I told you at the start of the day. I know you heard his decision before our meeting. This is the official document.”

Casey took the paper and read it slowly. She savored every word. Her eyes dampened upon completion, and she held it firmly in her grasp. “Thank you, sir. God bless you for delivering this to me.”

The two federal marshals stood. “Good luck, Miss O’Hare,” Joe said. “I wish you the best. Is there anything else you’d like to say on your behalf?”

Casey didn’t need to deliberate the matter. “Only that I would be forever grateful if you could stop Davis Jenkins.” Even the name of the dreaded outlaw upon her lips caused her to tremble.

“Yes, ma’am. With your information, I hope we’re able to find him and a lot more like him,” Zach said. “And I want to thank you for your patience while I recorded your statements. After listening to your answers, I plan to write my own recommendation to the President.”

Afterward, the wagon creaked and groaned away from the deserted house and back toward the ranch. Twilight shadows darkened to evening against a three-quarter moon and the first hint of stars.

“It went well,” Morgan said. “Casey, you displayed considerable control the whole time.”

“It wasn’t me.” The emotional strain of the day left her exhausted. “God must have stood right behind my chair with His hand on my shoulder and directed it all. And I couldn’t have done nearly so well if you hadn’t been there to support me.”

Morgan lifted his hat and wiped his wet forehead. “I’m so proud of you, and I’ll make sure Ben knows about the official pardon. Most likely he’ll sleep easier knowing he’s not bending any laws.”

They laughed. It felt good. Casey’s gaze swept over the silhouette of the man she loved. “This was a hard day, wasn’t it?”

“I felt as though each drop of sweat was a prayer in itself. Between the heat and the tension, I lost track of time. Recording every word was like being in law school again. But it’s over, and we did our best.”

“I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.” Casey sniffed and reached for her handkerchief. “In one breath I want to shout, and in the next I’m so relieved it’s over that I want to cry a bucket of tears.” She stretched stiff, aching back muscles. Suddenly a realization hit her. “Morgan, they’re making the recommendation for a full pardon.”

He laughed again. “I knew they would.”

“Now we wait.” She attempted to sort out the inquiries and her replies from the afternoon. Both men had asked numerous questions, and she didn’t always have an answer. She offered information and drew maps, especially in the area of the lower Colorado Plateau and on south through the canyon lands.

Six weeks. Seems like forever. Surely I gave them enough information. Both of them said they were grateful for my statement. Still, I’m impatient. I want it over, but all I can do is allow God to work out His plan. She felt Morgan’s attention on her and met it with a weary smile. His devotion never ceased to amaze her. If only she could reveal her own devotion to him.