Twenty One
The sun had already risen beyond the roof of the barn when Rylee woke the next morning. Her hand automatically reached for the warm body that had sheltered her during the night. Coming up empty, the blankets cold beneath her touch, she sighed and buried her disappointment.
Rylee laid still. Her mind raced as she contemplated the situation. She couldn't remain here. Every time Tom saw her, he’d be reminded of the treachery and lies, of what she’d cost him. No, it was best to move on. She’d sell the farm to Elizabeth and her boys, and head east. An unwelcome tear slipped past her control to roll down her cheek and she sniffled softly. The sound of voices in the corridor drew her attention and she wiped at her face, and sat up a moment before the door opened. She wrapped the sheet around her chest and glanced around for her shift. A wave of heat climbed up her face as she caught the edge of the white material lying on the floor next to the door.
She forced a smile for Sally who came in with a stack of clothes, a brush and her boots. “Morning, Sally.”
“Morning, child. Tom said to let you sleep. He just got back from town. The judge would like to see you.”
“Me?” Rylee croaked, unease filling her at the thought of telling those in town about what had happened. Dizzy and nauseous, she huddled within the blankets. “I don’t know what to say.”
“The truth always works.” Sally smoothed her dark hair from her face. “Come now, you’ve done nothing wrong. I’m sure things will work out.” Sally departed with a quick grin.
Rylee nodded half-heartedly and began to dress. She slipped each button through the holes with slow, unsteady fingers. As she pushed her feet into her boots, Rylee glanced at the window. Rising, she walked over to look out over the sprawling reach of the Duncan family, her good hand pressed to the sun-warmed glass. As she soaked up the image, a niggling little voice in the back of her head whispered she’d need the memory to cling to after she’d left.
She closed her eyes against the pain. Tears scalded at her eyes. The picture of Tom coming toward her, a smile on his face, love in his eyes. He wrapped his arms around her, whispered promises in her ear as they stood together watching their children run and plan in the yard—
A soft rap on the door drew her from the dream before it could really dig in and she turned from the window to see Tom standing, hat in hand, watching her with a strained yet oddly warm smile on his face. She smiled at him, “Is it time to go?”
“Yes, it is.” Tom nodded. A frown darkened his face. “You sure you’re ready for this?” He approached her, his hand coming up to cup her jaw. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I can ride into town and tell the judge you’re not up to it.”
“No,” Rylee admitted, “but I can’t exactly skip it. We both know that they need to know what happened. I’ll be fine.” She smoothed her hand down his chest, focusing on the top button of his vest. Inside, she felt like a leaf in the window, hanging tenuously to a quivering branch. She longed for the simplicity, the acceptance that had surrounded her before this had started. A chill skipped along her skin as she realized that there never had been any such thing. The acceptance she’d known had come from her family, from Elizabeth, but not from those within the ‘proper’ social calling of the town and county. Tom’s voice pulled her from the melancholy that seemed to seep into her bones like water through rock.
“I’ll be with you every step of the way.” Tom pressed a kiss to her temple, “I promise. I’m never going to let you down again. No matter what, you’re going to be safe here, with me.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, Tom, but we both know that this isn’t something you can protect me from,” Rylee whispered.
“I would take it all away, Rylee, if I could. I’m going to do better in the future. I’m going to see that you have what you need for as long as you’re alive. As long as you’re with me. I’m not going to let you go again, no matter what.”
A shudder raced through her as she realized what Tom meant. She didn’t want his pity or his guilt. She wanted his heart. But more than that she wanted to forget what had happened and have the life she’d dreamed of. But it was gone now, ripped away from her like a sheet from the line. She caught his hopeful look and nodded and turned to walk out of the room. She paused in the doorway and glanced behind her before shooting Tom a nervous smile and beginning the painful journey to the bottom of the stairs.
The foyer was silent, empty as she shuffled along the faded rug to the door. Shock tingled along her senses when the door opened a second before she reached it. Sam stood wrapped in the golden glow of the autumn sun. He nodded encouragingly to her and glanced at Tom who gave a shift of his head. With his hat perched upon his head, Tom smoothed his hand over his town clothes. Clean denim trousers embraced his legs, along with a pale shirt, vest, and his lightweight coat.
“Sally said the judge…” Rylee waved a hand at the staircase a hint of a blush on her face. The echo of horses in the corral drifted through the open door, offering comfort with the familiarity to the sounds.
“Yes.” A dart of sadness crossed his face, like a shadow as he acknowledged her words. “He insists since you’re up and around that you offer some sort of statement before the court.”
“Has Beth testified?”
“Everyone involved besides yourself and Richard have testified. The Judge sees no reason that the man should be spouting off before you’ve had your say.” Tom wrapped a thin shawl around her shoulders and squeezed gently. “You sure you’re okay?”
“I’ll survive,” Rylee replied with a tiny smile. It was one thing she was very good at. Surviving had always come so easily to her. This situation was no different then any other in her life. Other than nearly killing you and your best friend in the process, the soft voice whispered through her mind. Determination filled her as Tom helped her out the door, his hand at her waist, the other holding her arm in a firm grip.
~ * ~
Rylee waited for Tom to climb down before she inched toward her side of the barouche. Self-conscious of the stares and whispers of those on the street, Rylee ducked her head and eased herself over the side. Every muscle screamed in protest when strong hands encircled her waist before she forced herself to relax. It’s only Tom. Like a mantra the words repeated in her head again and again.
She knocked the dust from her split skirt and shuffled forward under Tom’s guiding hand. The hotel doors loomed before them and she shuddered, fear wrapping itself around to squeeze her heart. Her fingers scrabbled to wrap themselves around Tom’s hand, tightening until the knuckles showed white.
“I’m here.” Tom paused at the doorway, his free hand coming up to cup her jaw. With an idle movement, he traced small circles along the warm flesh of her jaw. “He can’t hurt you now.”
Rylee nodded in response and shuffled forward a step. She felt Tom’s muscles clench when a shadow crossed their path. Looking up, she swallowed against the rising tide of panic.
“Miss Parys.” Robert Neill touched the brim of his hat and faded away from them. Relief flowed over her and she shuffled through the open door and into the cool hotel lobby. Tom gestured to the left and she turned away from the clerk.
The first thing Rylee noticed stepping into the courtroom was the heat. It clung to everything, creating a sweltering, living mass that stole her breath. Men and women sat around, waving fans in an attempt to break its oppressive hold. Feeling every eye on her, Rylee moved as quickly as possible toward the front of the room.
“Miss Parys?” The voice boomed out like thunder from the man in black sitting behind a desk, papers strewn about in front of him.
“Yes, sir.”
“Come, sit down.” He waved at a seat. “I’m pleased to see you up and about.”
“Thank you, sir.” Rylee shuffled to the chair. She sank onto it with a grateful sigh. Exhaustion plagued her, taunted her with its power as she settled in.
“May we proceed?” Snooty and cold, the impersonal voice from across the room drew Rylee’s attention to the polished man sitting next to Richard Duncan. Both men stared at her much as they would a snake, calmly with a hint of disgust.
“By all means.”
Tom leaned over and whispered in her ear, his warm breath stirring her hair. “I’ll be right here. You can do this. When this is all over, we’ll go home and forget about them.”
Rylee shot him a grateful smile and turned her attention back to the lawyer who had risen from his seat. She watched in silence as he adjusted the lapels of his expensive suit and patted his hair before he strode toward her. Barely able to suppress the urge to roll her eyes, she waited for him to begin his spiel.
“Miss Parys, it is indeed a pleasure to see you back on your feet.”
Rylee held her tongue, anger bubbling with the fear and panic as she met Richard’s cold hostile stare. Her fingers knotted together, her palms sweaty and hot. She straightened in the chair as much as her battered body would allow and stared at the lawyer.
“What is your relationship to the defendant?”
“I don’t have one,” Rylee replied in a clear, cold voice.
“Surely you have some idea why he’d allegedly attack you?”
“Only what he said when he was strangling me.”
“Miss Parys, perhaps you can give us a clearer picture of your family’s past here. My client has stated that your father sold him the land you currently reside on before reneging in the deal.”
“My father might have mentioned it in passing to Mr. Duncan during a card game, but Pa never intended to sell the ranch,” Rylee explained. “Grandfather was very clear before his death that the ranch was to stay within Parys control. He didn’t want a range war to erupt over water or grazing. When Pa made the comments he was drunk and mad with grief after my mother died.”
“And how long has your family been there, miss?”
“My grandparents settled this area the year they were married. Some sixty odd years ago. Grandfather built the house I lived in, raised six children there. My Pa stayed to work the land.”
“How is it that you don’t own the entire valley then?”
Rylee shifted beneath the cold stare. Her eyes darted to Tom for comfort or assistance she didn’t know before turning back to the man regarding her with open disdain. “I don’t see what you mean.”
“There have to be at least four homesteads and ranches in the area. Why don’t you own the entire area?”
“What would I do with it all?” Rylee replied. “Grandfather didn’t want the entire valley. He wanted to see families come and live here. Wanted folks to have kids and be prosperous. To own the entire valley would defeat that goal.”
“Exactly how much did he keep then? Surely, you know that.”
Rylee raised her chin, a hard fist of anger rising within her. “I own twelve hundred acres, three rivers, two creeks, one pond, horses, cattle, pigs, chickens… when they aren’t being stomped beneath a horse’s hooves…and the rights to another spring up back of my house.”
“My, my. I can see why your family would have decided to keep the land they had. That would make you a very—”
“Mister, I hurt. I’ve got a broken hand, busted ribs, a lot of bruises and cuts that I didn’t have before. You just trot out the questions you’ve got in regards to that man’s attempts on my life. My land and water is of none of your concern.”
The popinjay smirked. “I believe it is. Your father entered into a—”
“My father wouldn’t have sold Richard Duncan a shovelful of horse shit,” Rylee interrupted amongst titters and whispers from the crowd. “He always said he was a drunkard and a whoremonger with the business sense of a school boy. Any fool around here knows that. When Tom Duncan came back this spring after serving in the Union cavalry it was he who pulled the Duncan spread out of the red. Hell, Sam Watertown could have run that place better than Richard ever did. Wolfe Longley has more sense and he’s ten!”
“I hardly think that a half-blood would…”
Rylee shifted in the chair, aware of the growing tension in the room. She caught Elizabeth’s pale features, the tears pooling in her blue eyes, and swore profusely under her breath. “I don’t believe you should think, sir. You might find yourself out of favor with the reflection in the mirror.”
“Mr. Pivie, get on with it,” the judge interjected.
“What is your relationship to Tom Duncan?”
“Personal.” Rylee smirked as a dark, angry look crossed the lawyer’s face before he schooled it away.
“Is it not true that you and Mr. Duncan conspired to remove my client from his family’s holdings?” Mr. Pivie demanded. “That you devised a means of getting my client’s share of the ranch away from him?”
“If Tom decided to limit the amount of money Richard had to spend on his whores and whiskey, that was Tom’s decision, not mine. He’s the ramrod of the ranch.”
“As his lover, do you expect this court to…?”
Rylee felt the chill go bone deep as the townspeople began to whisper amongst themselves again. Her eyes darted to Tom who shook his head and shot the lawyer a dark scowl that brought a dart of fear to the tin-horn’s eyes. Great, this was all I needed. Now everyone knows about my lack of control when it came to Tom Duncan. She thought before snapping out a response. “I don’t see what you’re after, sir. I expect this court to rule in favor of justice – nothing more or less.” She winced at the searing pain from her ribs when she shifted suddenly. Taking shallow breaths she leaned back, and blinked. “I don’t make Tom’s decisions for him. He is, after all, a grown man. As to my personal relationship with him, well, that’s personal. Move on.”
“Come now, Miss Parys, surely you don’t think for a moment that I’m going to believe that you haven’t had relations with more than Mister Tom Duncan.”
“Mr. Pivie, let me be as clear as I can. Your client destroyed my property on multiple occasions. He terrorized my best friend and her two small children by hanging the livery owner’s dog’s head on her back step and attempting to burn her house down. He declared to me that he was going to hurt her in a most gruesome manner, not to mention he tried to kill me—not once, but twice. The first time he left me with my own home burning down around my head. Let’s talk about that. Let’s discuss how grand your client is rather than my history with the men in this town.”
“So you admit that—”
“Who I have in my bed is none of your damn business!” Rylee shouted angrily, the pain of her wounds sharp and blinding. “However, I have no use for any man who wants one thing only from a woman alone. Let me be as clear as I can be. There isn’t a man in this room who would spit on me if I were on fire. To them I’m an annoyance, something to be driven off. I walk down the street and these fancy, so-called Christian ladies sweep their skirts aside rather than speak to me. Hell, I’ve seen ‘em treat the girls from the saloon with more respect than me. Do yourself and your client a favor and move on.”
Rylee shifted, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as she turned to the judge. He stared at her for a moment before dismissing her with a wave of his hand and the barest hint of a smile.
Tom’s steadying arm around her shoulders came as a welcome relief as tears streamed down her face. Low and muted, she couldn’t understand his words, but wallowed in the caring tone he used. Letting him pull her to her feet, she stumbled from the chair. With most of her weight braced against his sturdy frame she stumbled toward the door, ignoring the looks and whispers from those around her.
“Come on, I’ll take you home,” Tom whispered as he eased the door open and guided her out into the late day sun. Each step agonizing, Rylee made her way to the wagon only to squeak in protest when Tom swung her into his arms and settled her on the seat. She reached for the lap cover only to have it taken from her trembling fingers and tucked around her hips. She smiled gratefully at him and waited as he trotted past the horses to the other side and swung up into the wagon’s seat.
Out of the corner of her eye she watched him direct the team up the street. Concern was etched into his face, a small frown between his brows, lips tightened into a thin hard line. Without thinking she reached out and put her good hand on his arm, dropping her head onto his shoulder. Soon, very soon, she had to let him go. The thought hurt worse than the physical pain lapping at her body and soul.