Chapter 6   

Elizabeth met Mr. Heywood the next day at his office. He rose from his desk to greet her and took her hand in his, sending warm ripples down her spine.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “Is Mrs. Culpepper treating you right?”

“Yes, thank you,” she said.

He released her hand and indicated a leather chair. “Have a seat.”

With a quick glance around, Elizabeth sat and smoothed her skirt. She wore a pretty blue skirt with yellow flowers and matching shirtwaist. The outfit had always been her favorite, but today it felt out of place in a room as serious as this one.

The furniture, including the oversized desk, was made of dark polished wood, and one entire wall was covered with bookshelves. Never had Elizabeth seen so many books in one place.

Mr. Heywood took his seat behind his desk and shuffled through some papers. Though his arm was still in a sling, he looked every bit as serious and polished as his office. “I met with the judge, and I’m sorry to say I was unable to get the charges dropped.”

She frowned. “What does that mean, exactly?”

“It means you will appear before him at Monday’s hearing.”

She moistened her lips. “I’ve never appeared before a judge.”

“You needn’t worry. I’ll do all the work. The only thing required of you will be to state a plea of not guilty.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Nothing about law is easy,” he said.

She leaned forward. “Mr. Heywood—”

“Ben.”

“Excuse me?”

“Call me Ben.”

She sat back. “Is that the proper way to address one’s lawyer?”

“Proper or not, I need you to look relaxed on Monday. Dropping formalities might make you feel less anxious. Nothing says guilt like nerves.”

“All right,” she said. “Ben it is. But you must call me Elizabeth.”

“I’ll call you whatever you want. As long it takes that worried look off your face.”

She smiled. “I’ll do my best.”

He studied her. “It won’t be easy. The prosecutor will do whatever he can to prove his case.”

“But how?” she asked. “What could he possibly say or do to hurt me?”

Ben hesitated as if weighing his words. “He could say you were a woman … scorned. He could say that you shot me simply because I broke off our betrothal.”

“But that would be a bald-faced lie,” she said, aghast.

“I’m afraid the circumstances of my birth have made the town overly interested in my welfare. For that reason, there are many who might be swayed by the lie.”

“I see.” Suddenly feeling hot, she pulled her handkerchief out of her purse and dabbed her face.

“There’s also been a series of bank robberies in the area,” Ben continued. “People are upset, and that’s never a good thing, especially before elections. Those running for reelection might want to prove they’re cracking down on crime in Prickly Pear. So you might get the brunt of it.”

As he continued to outline the possibilities they faced, she suddenly burst out laughing.

Regarding her as if she’d lost her mind, he arched a dark brow. “What’s so funny?”

“You told me not to worry,” she said, “and then proceeded to tell me all the reasons why I should.”

Shaking his head, he laughed too. She liked the hearty sound of it, the deep rich tone. She liked it a lot and could have listened to it all day, but all too soon he grew serious again.

“I just want you to be prepared,” he said. “There’s no such thing as a good surprise in court.”

She smiled politely and stood. “There’s always a first time.”