Having rapped loudly, Vicki waited at the door to the huge white monstrosity that was the Gibb home. She knew that paying a call without prior notice was exceedingly rude, but she’d learned that if you catch people off guard, then you can get better information out of them. She’d hired a boy, Natty, from town to drive her around. He was in possession of a badly deteriorated buckboard that she found immeasurably uncomfortable, but he looked like he could use the money. Besides, he was a local, and a very nice boy.

She stared at the door, waiting for it to open. Rolling her eyes, she glanced around. She noticed another rig, and wondered if perhaps she should just come by another time. She stepped back, ready to leave, when the door finally opened. 

Vicki found herself face to face with a lovely blonde woman whose perfect features, posture, and figure gave off distinctly the same impression as ice. Under all of the layers of clothing that she had donned that morning, she felt a chill slide swiftly up her spine.

Vicki opened her mouth to stammer a greeting, but the woman simply slid past her without so much as acknowledging her presence. 

"How rude!" Vicki’s indignant mutter carried so that the ice princess could hear it. She stopped, turned,  and the most chilling smile broke over her face. With that, she was guided into her covered carriage by a rough looking man with a gun tethered to his hip. Outrage bubbled up in Vicki’s chest, but she had no time to dwell on it as a voice cut through the angry pounding of blood that roared in her ears. 

"Are you the reporter lady?" asked a voice liberally peppered with southern spice.

"Er..oh! I-I’m..." Vicki refused to lie to the woman, but she really did need a way in to speak with her.So she simply ignored the question. "Are you Savannah Gibb?"

"Yes, I am. Please, do come in."

Vicki took in the healthy glow the woman exuded. Her eyes lacked the hollow lassitude that lack of sleep developed. Vicki had seen rape victims. She’d seen these women flowing through her father’s office since she was a girl because her father was one of few lawyers that would take on their cases,
and try to find the justice they so desperately sought. They all had a weariness about them, no matter how well they were dealing. They all had visible signs of sleeplessness, or just plain weariness of people. They all had the eyes of a wild animal that was looking in every corner for a trap. Savannah Gibb had none of the usual and obvious mannerisms of a woman who had been brutalized. She was the picture of a vibrant and healthy woman.

Vicki took the burgundy plush chair that Savannah indicated, and pulled her pad out of her briefcase. She knew that Savannah was under the impression that she was a reporter, but had no intention of  changing that notion. As long as she didn’t say she was a reporter, she wasn’t really lying. She decided  that the questions that she had intended to ask as a lawyer would be suitable for a reporter anyhow.

"I’m sorry ‘bout Kathleen, she just…she’s…she don’t like strangers. I’m sure she didn’t mean to be rude." Savannah smiled prettily, absently toying with a shimmering black curl.

"I’m sure," Vicki grated. 

She watched the girl flounce to the couch across from her, and arrange herself on it as an actress might for her grand opening scene.

"Well now, Miss Gibb, where would you like to start?"

"I’m not quite sure." Her eyes swam up, as if she were looking for the answers to a test underneath her eyelids. "It was so difficult, you know," she added off hand. "I was just livid when I saw what that Shannon woman did. She tried to make that monster out to be some kind of saint, even after what he did to me. I’ll never understand why they printed that mess. I mean, everyone knows what savages are like. It shouldn’t be a surprise to those express people that he’d do something so awful. I do hear Mrs. Shannon’s a bossy one, though."

"I see," Vicki muttered noncommittally. 

"Well, should I just start from the beginning, or do you have any questions?"

"I think it would be best if you told me everything from the start, then let me ask clarifying questions  and the like."

"Well, all right." Savannah took a deep and dramatic breath, and meandered into her tale.

"I was mindin’ my own business, all day. Then, I decided I’d like to go visit Caramel."

"Caramel?"

"My horse. She’s the same color as caramel, and just as sweet too."

"I see."

"Anyway, If I’d a’known that savage was in my barn, I never would’a gone in there. I was lovin’ on my horse, and that brute just came up behind me an’ grabbed me!" 

Vicki noted that the horror on her face was as heartfelt and honest as a child who swears she hasn’t been playing with fire, yet has singed hair. 

"He shoved me down on the ground, and…you know. He ruined me, I’m just ruined!"

Vicki was growing nauseated by the bouncing of Savannah’s silky black curls. As she told her story,  her head bobbed with such zest, Vicki wondered if it would roll right off of her shoulders. 

"So, why did you go into the barn if you saw him in there?"

"I didn’t."

"Where was he then?" Savannah stared at her with wide blue eyes for a moment. Finally her answer  popped out of her mouth with the distinctive rise in pitch of a question, though it was supposed to be a  statement. 

"Hidin’."

"Did he know you were coming to the barn?"

"No, of course not!"

"Then how did he know to hide?"

"Maybe he heard me comin’."

"Perhaps." Vicki was scribbling furiously on her pad. She curled up the corner of the piece of paper shewas writing on, wrapping it with her thumb, around her index finger. She was trying to figure out a way to get the information she needed. She formed the words very carefully in her mind.

"I’m very sorry to ask, Miss Gibb, but I need to know more details. I want to be able to have the picture in my mind."

"Oh, well, I’ll do what it takes to help."

"When he uh…took…you. Where were you?"

"What d’ya mean?"

"Ah…Were you on your back?"

"I was…I was…on my belly! I was on my belly ‘cause he didn’t even want look at me. He knew what  he was doin’ was wrong, and he didn’t want to look at me!" 

Vicki almost laughed aloud when she looked at the girl’s position. She was sitting with both of her hands behind her back, an awkward affectation for someone sitting on a couch, and a classic sign that someone was lying. She’d taken an interviewing class in college, and been taught that The Fig leaf was the most common pose for an intelligent adult liar. The Fig Leaf was when the interviewee held their hands over their privates. Miss Gibb was emulating the classic "I didn’t do it" pose, with her handsbehind her back. Her professor had emphasized his point when he told them to watch a child when they lie. He promised that they would hold their hands behind their back in a physical attempt to hide their bad deed. She did as she was instructed, and watched children at play in a park. She was enthralled by a sweet-faced toe head boy. He pinched a girl, and swore to his nanny that he hadn’t touched the girl. He spent the entire conversation with his nanny with his arms behind his back, just as Miss Gibb wasdoing. 

"Well, I’m sorry for your trouble, Miss Gibb. I’ll get right to work on this information. Thank you for  your time." 

"Well, don’t you want to know how bad he roughed me up?"

"He did?"

"Well, yeah!"

"What did he do?"

"He hit me, over and over again."

"Where?"

"What?"

"Where did he hit you?"

"In the face!"

"How did he hit you in the face if you were on your stomach?"

Vicki could have sworn that flames were pouring out of her eyes, the enraged intensity of the southern  belle’s glare was so hot.

"Are you callin’ me a liar?"

"I’m just trying to get my facts straight."

"I think it’s high time you left."

"I agree."

Vicki was very happy to be out of that house, and away from Savannah Gibb’s vapid presence. She was helped into the buckboard by a very efficient Natty, and gave no backward glance at the Gibb’s place.

                                    --------
 

His shoes squeaked as he exited his hiding place. He took more care to be silent. He knew Savannah  would throw a conniption fit if she caught him in the house. He was just real curious as to what  Savannah was going to say to Kathleen Devlin. He knew those two would be up to no good, but he  wanted to prove to himself that he was right. Before, he hadn’t been sure if Kathleen had a hand in it.  Now he knew just how rotten she really was, they both really were. No wonder they had come to be  such close friends since the Gibbs’s had moved to town. They were both bad seeds. He didn’t know  he’d have the added bonus of hearing Savannah talk to the reporter. 

Savannah Gibb was the biggest liar he’d ever met. She told him that she loved him, she told him that there was no one else. He knew different, but she was just so soft to touch, and so pretty. He swore he’d never touch her again after he caught her with Mack Daniels. Then she came to him, with her
clothes all torn, saying she’d been raped. He had wanted to tear apart the man she said had done it. He  even waited around the jail for a chance to kill the man she accused. He was so grateful he hadn’t  done it. He’d never have forgiven himself for killing an innocent man. 

He’d suspected that she’d told him a whopper of a story, the day after she made her accusation, when he’d finished up cleaning the burned bunkhouse mess by himself. All the other surviving hands had gone to the Marshall’s office with her. Fearing he might do something rash if he went, he just poured himself into his work. He found a pretty little porcelain box in the wreckage of the flames. That box held some interesting things. Very interesting indeed. 
 

 Chapter 5

"You have a new lawyer!" Ike was near falling over. He was relieved, and his worry was fresh all at the same time.

"Isn’t that what I said." Buck grinned at his old friend. Ike plopped heavily down on the bunk next to him.

"A woman? A woman lawyer?" His hands fluttered gracefully.

"Yes. She seems to know what she’s doing. She said she was going to come by this afternoon. If you want, you can wait to meet her." Instant disappointment lined Ike’s features.

"I can’t. I’m running an errand for Emma. I volunteered so I could see you. I have a run later, I can’t stay."

"Oh. Well, I’m sure you can meet her later." His upset still obvious, Ike’s signature mischievousness lit bright in his blue eyes.

"Is she pretty?" His grin was impossibly wide, and he seemed to be fighting not to laugh. Buck swatted  him with his pillow. Ike looked at him strangely.

"What?"

"What’s that smell?"

"Lilacs." Ike quirked his head. Buck just shrugged, "long story." Playing at exasperation, Ike repeated his question.

"Is she pretty?"

"Does it matter?" Ike nodded firmly. "She’s very pretty," Buck added somewhat solemnly. 

Ike understood his friend’s dampened spirits. Women made everything about life difficult. Fortunately, they made everything better at the same time. He patted Buck on the knee, and headed out. He turned  to nod in acknowledgment of his friend’s mumbled, "ride safe."

                                    --------

Shortly after Ike’s departure, Vicki showed up, a bright smile plastered across her face.

"I’ve got great news! She’s a liar!"

"Well, I kind of knew that."

"I mean, she’s a stupid liar!"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, remember how I asked Sam some questions?"

"The only question you didn’t ask him was about the last time he’d been to the outhouse!" Buck instantly wished he were the mute one. What an awful thing to say in front of a proper lady! Vicki’s chuckle caught him off guard.

"Well, it paid off. There are huge discrepancies between the story she told me and the one she told Sam. For example, she told Sam that you didn’t beat her, you just…er…you know. She told me that you roughed her up. That’s a direct quote, by the way. She told Sam something about you shoving her  flat on her back, and she told me she was on her stomach. She’ll be easy to trip up on the stand if she doesn’t have her story straight!"

"Yeah, but what if she does get it straight by then. She’ll have plenty of time. There are at least two  weeks until the next circuit judge can make it here. That’s plenty of time."

"Not for her. She’s about as sharp as a marble." She watched Buck’s face twitch. He was trying valiantly not to laugh, but his facial muscles were bucking his attempt at being civil towards his accuser. She’d been so focused on getting her first case when she first saw him that she didn’t notice how handsome he was. Now, though, she did. She focused on the planes and angles of his bronzed face. He really was breathtaking, with that sweet smile just beckoning her to wish to get closer to him. She almost snorted at the thought of Miss Gibb’s lie. As if that man would have to force anybody! 

"So where do we go from here?" Concern was edging its way back over his chiseled features.

"Well, I intend to interview some of the people that work on the Gibb ranch. I haven’t figured out exactly how I’m going to do that, but I’ll find a way. Don’t you worry. I want to investigate the odd impression you got when you first came to work there. I agree that her attitude after the deaths was  quite peculiar." 

"Sounds good. I just wish I could help you prove my innocence."

"I know." She gently placed her hand over his. "I know that this ordeal has been immeasurably hard on you, but I promise you that I’m going to do everything in my power to get your name cleared."

"Thank you." His deep brown eyes drew her in. They were liquid, and she was parched. Disbelieving  her actions even as she moved, she leaned into him, and gave him a tight and not quite so sisterly hug.  Flustered with herself, she muttered a hasty goodbye, and left. After all, she had some interviews to get to.

                                    --------

"What?" Teaspoon screeched.

"Teaspoon, hush now. You don’t need to go upsetting Buck. Not when Emma’s finally got him eatin’ again."

"I don’t believe it! I just don’t! That low down, dirty playin’, son of a-" Teaspoon cut himself off. "Are  you sure Sam? Martin P. Mallory’s gonna be the Gibb’s attorney, for sure?"

"Yeah, it’s good information."

"You just as sure about the circuit judge?" Sam nodded morosely.

"He’ll be here next week."

"That don’t give us much time," Teaspoon added as his hand rasped over his unshaven face.

"I know, but that Wellington girl’s got a good head on her shoulders. In just a day on the case, she had  some good information. She’s workin’ hard on it."

"That may not be enough."

"I know," Sam agreed. "You met her yet?"

"No, can’t say I have. Buck sure is talkin’ up a storm about her."

"She’s pretty." 

Teaspoon uttered a noncommittal, "Aeyuh." Scratching at his whiskers for a moment, he stared at the opening to the jail a moment longer. It was so hard to picture Buck trapped in there for so long. He wanted to end the craziness here, and now, but there was nothing he could do besides break him out. He knew Buck well enough to know that nothing short of proving him innocent would do. He needed to meet this Vicki woman.

With nothing left to say, the two men went back into the Marshall’s office in a worried silence that weighed in a thick cloud around them.

                                    --------

Teaspoon’s conversation with Buck had both worried him, and relieved him. He was relieved that the boy was finally gaining some weight back, but he was worried that he’d put too much faith in a woman he had just met. That boy was putty when it came to a pretty girl. He paced the length of his bedroom once more, and wracked his brain for something to mend the problem. I was all his fault after all. If he hadn’t sent Buck straight into the jaws of that buxom beast, none of this mess would have transpired.  He paced back toward his window, and stared blindly at the moon. An idea was starting to take shape  in the back of his head.

Examining the ground as he picked his way over the dark path, Teaspoon hoped he wouldn’t trip, or step on a twig loud enough to give his presence away. His process was so slow, and maddening that he  was starting to itch. He always did that when he was getting powerful impatient with something.
Luckily, a deeper black anomaly in the terrain announced itself as the charred remains of the ranch’s former bunkhouse. He rallied the last shreds of his patience, and went for it at an achingly slow pace.

Fighting the urge to throw hunks of scorched wood to alleviate his ire, Teaspoon began the slow descent back to the station house. He was just beginning his painstakingly quiet journey, when a hand clapped firmly over his mouth.

                                    --------

Vicki threw her shoe at the hotel wall with every ounce of strength she could muster. It had been the most horrendous of nights. First, when she went about the local bars and even brothels to find ranch hands to interview, no one would speak to her. She’d been forced, for an hour, to listen to a prostitute named Lucinda tell her about what good money she could make working for the establishment in which she scoured to find one of the Gibb ranch’s workers. When she gave up on finding one in town she  marched up to the Gibb’s ranch to look for some there. That’s when all the truly miserable things  started happening. 

Savannah must have heard Natty’s rattletrap buckboard coming because she shot out the front door shrieking obscenities that were so creative Vicki was actually impressed. The vapor headed girl had figured out, or been told who Vicki was. She gave that fact a mental shrug. It was bound to happen
some time anyway. She was doing her best to ignore her, when a group of large, burly men, not only helped her exit the property, but also gave her serious reason to avoid the place like the plague. Her arms were a deep purple in spots from the rough hands that had dragged her physically from the premises. They hadn’t even been decent enough to put her on her rented rig. The woolly monsters tugged her down the road, and treated her person like a personal spittoon. She was bruised, battered, covered in tobacco-laden spit, and all she wanted was to come to her room for a hot bath and some  peace to ponder Buck’s defense. She had not been so lucky. 

No sooner did she make it into her room, had the Marshal shown up to tell her that she had only a week to prepare a winnable case for Buck. As soon as he left, the bath that she’d requested when she had entered the building arrived. Cold. It wasn’t even tepid. It was cold. Having all ready shed her clothing, she put the filthy garb back on to go downstairs to complain, something she hated to do. When, at long last, she rested in her hot bubbly water, the couple in the next room decided to make some noise. Vicki wondered if the act of copulation was really that noisy, or if the twosome next door just wanted to remind her how lonely she was. It was a rather sad state of affairs when the only man she had had even the least bit of romantic interest in for years, was in jail pending a rape trial. Thus she sat in her bath with her second shoe in her hand, trained at the wall. 

                                    --------

"Please don’t scream, or nothin’. I got something you might want to see." Teaspoon tried as best he could to nod, but the iron hold on his face made that chore impossible. As if his thoughts were broadcast out loud, the hand let up just a bit. Then sensing Teaspoon’s acquiescence, the man dropped his hand, and backed away.

"I’m awful sorry ‘bout that Mr. Hunter, but I didn’t want you to make no noise. I wanted to tell the ladyearlier, but they took her away."

Teaspoon turned to eye the man who made all of his cat footing around all for naught.

"I’m sorry, but I don’t have no idea what you’re talkin’ about. It seems I’m at a disadvantage though, bein’ you know my name, and I don’t know yours."

 "Name’s Eric Carver."

Sticking out a hand, Teaspoon replied, "It’s nice to meet you Eric. Now would you mind tellin’ me what you was talkin’ about before. About the lady."

"They took her away. Steve, one of the other hands here, he saw her in town lookin’ to talk to one of  us. He heard her talking to a working girl, and she was talking about being a lawyer from Chicago. Steve figured she was Cross’s lawyer. So he came right back to tell everybody. When she showed up here, all hell broke loose. Savannah was screaming for them to take her away, so they did."

"Eric, do you know if they hurt her?"

"I think they just tried to put a scare into her. Nothing serious. Her driver went after her pretty fast, sohe would know for sure."

"I see. What was it you thought I’d like to see?"

"Oh yeah, wait here. I got it hidden. I’ll be back shortly."

Teaspoon waited in the chill of the night, for what seemed a good chunk of his life. When Eric did return, he had a small wad of dirty oilskin cradled in his hands. 

"This is it. I found it when I was cleaning up the mess from the fire."

"Well, what is it?"

"See for yourself." She man shoved the package in Teaspoons hands. Slowly Teaspoon pulled away the  cloth to uncover a scalded, but mostly uninjured porcelain keepsake box. Eyeing Eric speculatively, he gently pulled the lid from the box away to reveal some smoke yellowed, and vaguely singed papers. 

"Love letters. She wasn’t no pristine virgin, I can vouch for that myself," Eric supplied.

                                    --------

The joyous warmth of the bath had managed to relieve Vicki’s bad mood and sore body somewhat. She decided to redeem the vestiges of the night with work. She sat comfortably on her bed, surrounded by her notes when a thought occurred to her. Why had the Gibb’s left their last home? After all, she couldn’t imagine a desert being prime land to raise bovine. She remembered Sam saying that he though they hailed from Texas, but he was unsure. She made a note to go by the express station to see if any of Buck’s friends had enough free time to ride to Texas, and do a little digging. She was rereading her list of things to complete tomorrow, when a knock sounded almost quietly at the door. It was at leastthree in the morning, and no appropriate citizen would be banging on a woman’s door at such an hour. Vicki stared warily at the door. Dressed only in a light gown, she was in no state to answer the door anyhow. So, she continued to stare at it.

"Pssst! Miss Wellington? Are you in there? I’m Teaspoon Hunter. I need to speak with you." The words sounded like a ridiculous stage whisper through the door. Immediately recognizing the name as one of Buck’s friends, she grabbed her robe, and flew to the door.

When she opened it, she was met by two men. One, a young, ruggedly attractive, blonde, wearing slightly dirty and disheveled clothing, was holding a small object as protectively at one might cuddle a kitten. The other man, she recognized immediately as Teaspoon from Buck’s lively description. And she thought he’d been kidding! 

"Come in, gentlemen." The duo scuttled into her room like children afraid to move lest they give away some fiercely protected secret, like a rat in the pocket. Damion had pulled that one many a time in their youth. She closed the door, and engaged the lock forthwith. 

"Make yourselves comfortable. I’m sorry, I can’t offer you any drink or nourishment, but you look likethat is the farthest thing from your minds anyway. So let’s get down to business."

Being that the hotel room had no place to sit but the bed, the men leaned together on the windowsill. She sat on the edge of the bed. 

"My name’s Eric Carver, ma’am. I got something here to show you. I got a heck of a story to tell too."

"Is it about Buck’s case?"

"Yes’m."

"Please do tell!"

"I work for the Gibb’s see. I…Savannah-n me was real close. You know…real close like." Vicki nodded. 

"And?" she probed.

"I- I knew there were other men, but well, she’s so pretty, and I figured it wouldn’t hurt nobody. Anyhow I found this after the fire." He handed the small package to her. She promptly opened it, and peeked inside. As gently as possible, she opened one of the top letters. It was started with, "Ben darling."

"Who’s Ben?"

"One of the men that died in the fire. I’m going to finish up my story, now. I don’t want to be missed at the ranch. You can go over those letters later. They’re real interesting. Ben was Savannah’s favorite  male friend. We all knew about’em, and we all knew he was getting tired of her sharing her charms so freely. There’s talk in a bunkhouse y’know. So the night of the fire, we heard her screaming at him.  They was fighting it out in the bunkhouse. We started getting worried about Ben when we started hearing crashing. Savannah is famous for throwing things at people when she’d mad at them. So Mack  Daniels, who’d been keeping his mouth shut about his own affair with her went in to see what was going on. There was more screaming, and such. Then after a few minutes, Mack stuck his head out the door’n told us to scram ‘cause they wanted some privacy. We all went to the saloon. When we came  back, Savannah was sitting pretty as you please, watching the fire take down the bunkhouse.

Now, there’s no doubt in my mind that she set that fire. I can’t prove it, but I know it’s true. Another thing I figure is that Mack and Ben had to be dead before she could manage. Like I said, I’m not sure,  but I’m betting that she told Ben about Mack, and let them shoot it out, or fight it out, or whatever it  took to keep them in a burning building without trying to get out."

Vicki was doing her best to try to digest all of the information that had literally been dropped in her lap.A wonderful thrill grew from her toes, and traveled up her body. She was going to win the case, and Buck was going to be a free man!

"In those letters, you’ll find that Savannah’s in a family way. She wanted Ben to marry her, but he had no clue who the baby belonged to ‘cause of Savannah’s love of variety."

"So that’s why she blamed Buck for rape! She wanted to have the blame of pregnancy taken off of her shoulders. If she was a victim, then no one would mock her, they would be overly kind and helpful. All she has to do is have her baby elsewhere, give it up, and say it was dark like Buck. No one would be the wiser, and no one would care that Buck was hung for something he didn’t do."

"There’s one more thing. Kathleen Devlin’s going to help her."

A simultaneous, "What?" and "Who?" rang out. Teaspoon began to pace. 

"I knew that little minx was gonna cause Buck grief, but this is crazy!"

"Who is Kathleen Devil?"

"Devlin," Eric corrected.

"Devlin," she repeated.

"I think she was closer the first time," Teaspoon groused. "Kathleen is an old…uh…friend of Buck’s.  She broke his heart." 

Vicki was none too happy with the data she was receiving. Not only did this horrible creature hurt Buck, she wanted to aid in destroying him completely.

"What does this woman plan to do to help Savannah?"

"She’s going to testify that he was mean to her too. That he beat on her."

Vicki leapt off of the bed, and went to Eric.

"Will you testify to this in a court of law?"

"I can’t lady, I’d lose my job!" A sinking feeling hit Vicki hard enough to make her nauseated.

"Is your job more important than an innocent man’s life?" Vicki shrieked. Eric looked considerably abashed.

"How am I supposed to feed myself? You got what you need in that box, lady."

"No, that alone won’t do the trick, I need someone to testify to the fact that she was promiscuous, aswell as to the facts surrounding that fire, and about Kathleen Devil."

"Son," Teaspoon broke in. "If a job is all you’re worried about, Russell, Majors and Waddel is always looking for new riders. I can help you get a job."

"How much is the pay?"

"Five dollars a week." Eric seemed to mull that over, and eventually nodded.

"I’ll stay on at the Gibb’s ‘till the trial. That way no one will suspect anything. I’ll testify. I’ll do it."  Vicki grabbed his hand, and shook it enthusiastically.

"You’re doing the right thing, Mr. Carver!"

After Mr. Carver had gone, Vicki sat discussing the facts with Teaspoon.

"I have an idea about how to handle Devlin, Miss Wellington."

"And that is?"

"Just let me take care of it. If my plan goes badly, I’ll get in touch with you. I think it will go off without a hitch, though. You can always count on people to be selfish."

"I really think you should discuss all matters surrounding this case with me."

"It won’t help to come from you. Trust me. I have Buck’s best interests at heart too."

"What do you mean, it won’t help to come from me?"

"I have someone I need to see, and he won’t see you."

"But he’ll see you, Mr. Hunter?"

"Nope, I just know how to get in!"

"I think I’m getting your point. Please do keep me informed, though."

"I will," Teaspoon nodded sagely. With a sudden start, Vicki remembered number seven on her to do list.

"Do you think it would be permissible for one of your riders to go to Texas? What if she’s done something like this before?"

"Well, Texas is a big state, but it’s the state of my birth, and I still know folks there. I’ll go. I’ll be able to get good information from some old friends who are real good at getting information."

"Thank you Mister Hunter!"

"No, thank you."
 

Chapter 6

It had all culminated down to this. Vicki and Buck remained quietly in his cell, waiting to be called to the courtroom. They sat hand in hand, drawing comfort from one another. The courtroom was all ready full of both friends and enemies. Vicki had arrived early that morning, after having spent the night praying for guidance and favor throughout today’s events, only to find herself devoid of the power of speech when she rested her eyes on Buck’s polished appearance. He was wearing a suit that Emma, no doubt, had ironed to perfection. His hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail, and it shone like onyx. She preferred his hair down, and flowing about his face in a soft frame, but it was perfect for court.

The judge’s assistant peeked in to the jail to tell Sam to bring in the defendant. Still holding solemnly on to each other, Buck and Vicki walked into the courtroom.

Buck sat rigid in his seat. He rested his hands, palm down on his legs, hoping that the fabric of his pants would absorb the moisture gathering in his palms. He cast a furtive glance at Vicki. She looked cool, collected, and as if she belonged. She was a perfect picture of poise and grace in the midst of madness. She caught his gaze, and without changing her determined expression, she patted his hand lightly under the table. His biggest regret would be that if she couldn’t get his name cleared, she would feel she failed him. He couldn’t express to her how much hope and pleasure just her presence had been in these last few weeks. His most fanciful hope was that if she did manage to clear him, that they could somehow get past the circumstances of their meeting, and become more than friends. He’d done everything possible not to relish these hopes as he did, but there was just something about Vicki. It wasn’t her looks, though she was beautiful. It wasn’t her kindness to him, though she had been. There was some kind of ethereal grace that exuded from her which pulled at him on such a fundamental levelthat it refused to be ignored. With a slight start, Buck realized that his musings had overlapped the prosecution’s opening statement. That was just as well, Mallory had probably said all kinds of awful and untrue things about him. He watched Vicki stand, with the grace of a ballerina, and the authority of a general. Confidence emanated from her in radiant waves as she spoke with the eloquence of …Vicki.

Buck found Savannah’s testimony literally painful to sit through. He couldn’t stomach the thought of the things she accused him of doing being done to any woman, even her, ruthless liar that she was.

When it came time for Vicki to cross examine her, though, she looked like a deceitful and spoiled brat.  Buck would never understand Vicki’s knack for stripping others of their masks to reveal their true spirit, but he appreciated it this day, as he appreciated air.

Buck waded through testimonies to his bad character, from people he’d never even met. He heard himself called a plethora of terrible things, but it was Kathleen Devlin’s testimony that almost broke him. She sat up on the stand, lovely as ever, and regaled the packed court house with horror stories of being beaten, cursed at, and mauled by the savage she had only tried to befriend. He almost cried out aloud when Vicki uttered a shocking statement.

"I have no questions for this witness, your honor." He looked at her, incredulous. Has she lost her mind? Kathleen’s testimony alone could hang him. He aimed a hard stare at her, when she peered in his direction. She gave him a dazzling smile, winked, and mouthed the words, "Trust me."

The judge eyed the young woman strangely.

"Young lady, are you sure you don’t have any questions for this witness?"

"I’m quite certain, your honor. However, I would like to call a witness to refute her testimony."

"You may," came the judge’s curt reply.

"I call Jack Devlin to the stand." A roar of gasps sounded around the tightly packed room, as Jack Devlin strode purposefully toward the stand. His face grim, he was sworn in, and settled himself heavily in the wooden chair that served at a witness box.

"Mr. Devlin, at any time during which your daughter was consorting with Mr. Cross did she come home with any unexplained bruises?"

"No."

"Are you aware of his ever having hit her?"

"I am aware, and no. I’m confident he never laid a hand on her."

"Why would she say he did?"

"She’s a devious girl. I’ve tried everything to keep her in line, but she always manages to get what she wants."

"Does what she want usually involve hurting people?"

"Yes. She seems to like playing havoc with people’s lives. Mine most of all. She loves to alienate my clients. She’s bad for my bank, and she knows it. She thinks I’ll just send her back to Europe so she can play unsupervised. I won’t allow that."

"Did you ever hear Mr. Cross belittling her, as she testified earlier?"

"No. The only thing he did, was try to protect her from my own devices. Namely an employee named Morgan. Rance Morgan. Mr. Cross killed him while he attempted to harm myself and my daughter." 

"So he protected you?"

"Yes, and Kathleen."

"I have no further questions."

The prosecution was stymied into muteness. Mallory refused to question Mr. Devlin.

After his turn on the stand, a sense of well being was growing in Buck’s gut. He hadn’t looked at all like the lecherous monster the prosecution wanted him portrayed as. At least he didn’t think so. It was pretty easy taking the stand after someone as grudgingly respected as Teaspoon Hunter had left it. Teaspoon had spent the better part of an hour singing Buck’s praises. So when Buck took the stand he was feeling cared for at least. There was a whole bench of people rooting for him. Vicki has schooled him in everything from the way to sit to the way to answer questions, so when the prosecution tried to trip him up it usually backfired. She was winning. Vicki was going to save his life. They were almost done. The only witness left was that of the Defense, Eric Carver. He came to the stand, armed with the evidence he’d brought forth a week earlier. His testimony went well, and the prosecution had not been able to shake him up, or make him look bad. And the fact that he’d told the defense about Kathleen and Savannah’s spiteful plan with enough time to spare to find a rebuttal gave credence to histestimony. He even knew about a birthmark on the uppermost curve of Savannah’s inner thigh. Everything was looking great, Buck couldn’t understand why Vicki looked to be getting agitated. She kept sneaking glances at the door.

As Eric left the stand, and the judge asked for formal closing statements, Vicki let out a deep breath.  Her last witness, dressed in dirty wrinkled traveling clothes, sauntered through the door.

"Your honor, I have one more witness." He nodded blandly.

"Proceed."

The man looked entirely self possessed even for his disheveled appearance. As he passed Vicki, he gave her a wink, and a whisper. "I wouldn’t miss this for nothing."

His smarmy grin found its way to Savannah Gibb who promptly fainted. Vicki stifled a grin.

"Sir, may we have your name, for the record?"

"Yes ma’am. My name is Marcus Gibb. I would be Miss Savannah Gibb’s brother."

A hush gathered over the room.

"Mr. Gibb. Would you mind telling the court why your sister and father left your home state of Texas?"

"I certainly wouldn’t mind. My dear sister there accused my best friend of raping her. Six hours later, he was hanging at the end of my father’s rope. You see, my friend Hardy, was his name by the way, had a big crush on this lady named Lolly. So when Savannah tried to get her claws in him, he refused.  Savannah is not used to being told no, heaven knows dad never said it. She did it out of spite, and dragged dad into her charade."

"How do you know she did it out of spite?"

"She told me. She was right proud of herself. She said that no one tells her no, and gets away with it. I asked her why dad went along, and she told me that if Hardy were dead it would be real easy to get their hands on his money. He didn’t trust banks, you see, so he had gold by the bar stored in his house."

"Mr. Cross hasn’t any money, why would she attack him?"

"Like I said. It wasn’t Hardy’s money that motivated Savannah. He told her no. That was her punishment for refusing to play her game. The money was my father’s reason. The ranch had been doing poorly, and he needed it. So, he acted all upset, and got together a group of good ol’ boys to help him with some vigilante justice. So he told them."

"What could your father’s motivation be now?"

"Well, he don’t take well to embarrassment. Mr. Hunter told me, when he looked me up, about what was in those letters. If she is pregnant, then he’d want either a reasonable something to blame, or a husband for her. ‘Cause without those, he’d be embarrassed." 

"That will be all, thank you Mr. Gibb."

"Your welcome, ma’am."

                                    --------

"It’s been three hours!"

"Buck calm down. Don’t get yourself all worked up over nothing," Teaspoon tried to calm him.

"Buck," Vicki’s voice quietly broke in. "When a jury comes back immediately, it is typically bad news for the defense. When they take longer, it’s a good sign." She moved to sit next to him, and began slowly stroking his back. He sank gratefully into her touch. She was actually more worried about the man they called Ike. She knew him to be Buck’s best friend. He hadn’t moved from his spot in three  hours. He hadn’t squirmed, paced, spoken, or flexed a finger. He looked petrified. Perhaps he was.

The squeak of the wooden door being pushed slowly open gave way to the Judge’s assistant who beckoned them all back into court.

Buck and Vicki settled themselves as best they could, to wait for the verdict. Quickly, Buck took her hand, kissed it gingerly, and whispered, "Whatever happens. I’m just glad to have gotten the chance to know you. Not many people are brave enough to stick their necks out for a stranger. You did. Thank you." 

Before she could reply, they were bid to stand for the judgment. Hand in hand, she and Buck waited for the verdict. A small balding man handed off a folded sheet of paper to the judge’s assistant. The Judge nodded at what was written on the sheet. The judge’s timbre filled the room.

"On the charge of rape, we the people, find the defendant, Buck Cross, not guilty."

A chorus of cheers rose up from the bench directly behind them. Buck compatriots patted him on the back, hugged him, and gloried in the form of scream and clapping. Their friend was free.

"Order in the court!" the judge yelled.

"I hereby order Savannah Gibb, John Gibb, and Kathleen Devlin into custody. Perjury is a crime punishable by law. The court will also look into the charges of murder and theft in the cases of Mr. Gibb and Miss Gibb. Good day." The gavel crashed to the bench, with the reverberation of finality spreading through the room.

Vicki didn’t know how long Buck held her in his crushing embrace, and she didn’t care. She’d won her first case, Buck was free. She had never been happier. She and Buck had a new start. Maybe they could even take advantage of it together.
 

Epilogue

It had been a month since the Gibb trial. Buck looked on it as a nightmare. A nightmare in his past. He looked forward to his future. He’d expected the town’s people to act as if a guilty man had been set free, even though they knew the truth. To his surprise, they fell into the usual habit of ignoring him. That was fine with him because he wasn’t leaving. Vicki was slowly gathering clients, and she would eventually have a thriving practice. He would stay there, no matter what, as long as she was there. Something that had transpired shortly after the trial ended was nagging at him. Without the hindrance of iron bars, they had gotten immeasurably close. They were sitting together on a corral fence watching the horses prance and roam when she looked at him with a funny expression on her face.

"God sent me here," she told him flatly. He didn’t argue, but wasn’t sure if he agreed. She certainly was his angel, but he couldn’t be so sure she was right. He did wonder though, how a Sweetwater paper found it’s way to Chicago, then to her. Maybe God was telling them something. Maybe they were meant to be together. With a slow smile, he decided, she had to be right.