Boldly Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

Cut and Dried

As the posse vanished into the distance, Lorna leaned against the railing of the paddock with a sigh. She felt suddenly weary and wrung-out… like laundry, she thought suddenly and smiled slightly in spite of herself. It was, after all, a fitting simile for the way she felt just then.

The mustang in the paddock was pacing restlessly, the lead rope trailing in the dust. Leannan still stood where Lorna had left her, although she hadn't been tied either. Half-relieved to find something to do, Lorna climbed into the paddock to take the halter off the mustang. She was rather surprised when the horse allowed her to come near and remove the halter without even shying. Slinging the rope halter over the fence, she climbed back out and went to Leannan. She had learned many times over how comforting an animal could be in hard times… any animal, truly. Like the fat, curly ewes on her father's farm at home. Or the fuzzy little kittens she had always found roaming in the barn. Now she leaned against Leannan, burying her face in the pony's wispy grey mane. She supposed, rather tiredly, that she should cry, but she knew she couldn't. And it was so foolish to be standing here, wanting to cry and not being able to, and hardly knowing why. It had scarcely been a half hour but it felt like an eternity of torture before she heard hoofbeats and turned to see Hank riding in on his strawberry roan.

He lifted his hat and called out a cheery greeting but Lorna didn't respond. She simply stood there, still clutching Leannan's mane, until Hank had ridden close enough to see the look of horror written across her face. In an instant he had dismounted and reached her side.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

She told him in as few words as possible, surprised to find that she could keep her voice steady. When she had finished, he simply frowned and stood quietly, shaking his head.

"Is there anythin' ye can do?" she asked, tentatively.

"Dunno." Hank frowned deeper. "I know what happened, of course, but I can't prove it."

"What?" Lorna cried impatiently. "What happened an' how d'ye ken?"

"Ya ever hear tell of an outlaw named Slade?" He didn't need to explain further. Lorna groaned and dropped her head wearily onto Leannan's neck.

"I should ha' ken," she murmured. "I met Slade… after th' marksmanship contest last week. He tried t'… he tried t' get me t'… spread rumors about Jason. I refused. But I should ha' told someone. This… this is my fault. I should ha' ken he would do somethin' else."

"This ain't no one's fault," Hank stepped forward and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Jason was involved with Slade way back… years afore ya came here. He was only seventeen when he met Slade. This was comin' fer a long time. It probably… couldn't be prevented. I'd better head into town an' see what can be done t' straighten this out."

"What can I do?" Lorna lifted her head and set her chin determinedly.

"The best thing fer ya to do… fer any of us to do… is pray. You all right getting back to town?" As he spoke, he swung himself up into his saddle again. Lorna nodded.

"I'll probably gae t' see Ilse though… now that I'm out here." But she didn't move for a long time, watching as Hank spurred his roan and galloped towards Keystone.

"Well, Leannan," she turned back to the pony who was nuzzling her hair, as if expecting a treat. "I s'pose it really would ha' been better if I had stayed in Aberdeen. But…" she reflected as she clambered back onto the pony's back. "There wasna really much of a choice. What d'ye reckon I should do, Leannan? Hank's right, I should pray… an' I have been… ever since this happened. But surely there's somethin' more I can do… Is there? Then again... what right have I t' do anythin'? After all... I refused him, didna I?" She shook her head ruefully as she gently kicked the pony's side and set him trotting across the meadow toward the Danbys'.

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Jason went with the posse quietly, although he felt rather as if he could have cracked a couple of heads with a clean conscience. That would certainly have been a relief. It wouldn't have been nearly so bad, if they had left Lorna alone. But to grab her like that, to drag her away by sheer force… that was inexcusable and he seethed inwardly, just thinking about it.

The ride was a silent one. No one even paid the slightest attention to him as they approached Keystone. That was fine with him. But the thought of entering Keystone as a prisoner was not a pleasant one. He had so far been able to hide his association with outlaws and no one in the town, so far as he knew, had any idea. He had a good reputation. So much for that. He grit his teeth in anger and held his head high. In spite of the many generations between him and his Scotch ancestry, the old Scottish pride and temper had not altogether missed him.

The posse pulled up in front of the sheriff's office, dragging Jason from his horse and pushing him roughly inside. Aside from the removal of the sheriff's body, the office had not been changed from the night the murder had taken place. Deputy Adams took the sheriff's place at the desk, staring coldly at his prisoner.

"So, Jason McCulloch, what do ya say to this?"

"I'm innocent. Never killed a man in my life. What more can I say?"

"Do you admit that you are part of Slade's gang?"

"I was," Jason was careful to place emphasis on the 'was'. "I left him four months ago. I…"

"I don't want to hear any explanations… just plain answers. Understand?"

Jason didn't answer. The deputy picked up a pistol from the desk and looked at it thoughtfully, turning it over in his hands for a moment.

"Recognize this gun?"

Jason turned pale. He had completely forgotten about that.

"Yes, sir."

"Whose is it?"

"Mine. But deputy, I can explain…"

"An' I said I didn't want no explanations. There is no way this gun could have gotten here except if you dropped it here."

"Slade stole that gun from me!" Jason stepped forward angrily, glaring at the calm, stone-faced man before him.

"Hogwash. Slade hasn't been seen in these parts fer more 'n half a year."

"He was at the marksmanship contest last week."

"More hogwash. No one by that name was registered. If he had, we'd have arrested him. Grant, lock him up. This case is pretty cut-and-dried, if ya ask me."