New Frontier of Love (American Wilderness Series Romance Book 2) Page 18

  “Dear heavens!” John exclaimed, dismayed.

  “Oh my, my apologies, Sir,” Bear said, picking Jonathan up with one arm. “Sometimes I forget my own strength.” Clearly embarrassed, Bear’s ruddy complexion colored fiercely.

  Jonathan straightened and brushed off his clothing, a wide grin spreading across his face. “I haven’t received a slap like that since I was a wee lad gettin’ disciplined by me mum.”

  “Again, I beg yer forgiveness. I just meant to be friendly,” Bear said.

  “Em, I’d hate to see you when you were unfriendly,” Justin said, raising his blonde brows.

  “I’ve seen him unfriendly, and trust me, you don’t want to see it,” Lucky said.

  “It’s not the first time Bear has accidentally knocked someone to the ground with just a friendly cuff, and I doubt it will be the last. But my head is burning like the dickens. If you don’t mind, Sirs, we need to get on with the reason we’re here,” John said.

  Lucky quickly explained why they had come.

  “I’m na surprised that bastard has caused more problems,” Jonathan said after listening to Lucky. “He’s a damn traitor. That is God’s truth. I would swear that to anyone. But I do na want Foley’s brother and those other dirty buffalo hunters comin’ after Justin seeking revenge if I say anythin’.”

  “My brother William said he would arrange for you to see the Judge privately,” John said. “If he can’t, we’ll not put you or your brother in jeopardy. We’ll find another way.”

  “Does Foley know you’ve come out here to our place then?” Justin asked, clearly worried.

  “Nay,” Bear said. “Lucky and I both left town separately and caught up to John on the trail leading up to your place. Only one Indian knows we’re here.”

  “Judging from John’s head, it looks like you ran into some of those forest demons,” Jonathan said.

  “Aye, but all but one are dead,” Bear said. “He ran off.”

  “No doubt to describe the wendigo that killed all the others,” Lucky said. Then he explained what a wendigo was and why they might think Bear was one.

  “Our thanks. They might have headed here. Most of the natives are peaceful, and once they even exchanged some food with us, but occasionally small petty bands give us trouble. We’ve shot a few off their horses and so they usually leave us alone. John, do you need to lie down lad?” Justin asked.

  “The bleeding stopped and I’m able to tolerate the pain, but I would like to sit for a short while. I could sure use some hot coffee too. We’ve been riding most of the night.”

  “Coffee it is then. I’d offer you whiskey for the pain, but we’re out. Let’s get some food in your bellies and then we’ll head to your camp,” Jonathan said, turning toward their small log home. “My brother and I need to pick up supplies in Boonesborough anyway. An Irishman out of whiskey for too long can be unpleasant to be around.”

  “I’ll be arguing with you about that,” Justin said, catching up to his brother.

  “I know you won’t be arguing about the whiskey, is it about going in to see the Judge then?” Jonathan asked.

  “Use your head brother. It is far too dangerous. We’ll wind up getting’ one of us killed if you do this thing,” Justin objected.

  “Then killed we’ll have to be. It is past time I told what I know about that evil man. A man who hides the truth also hides his honor.”

  CHAPTER 22

  The circuit Judge pounded his gavel as he called his courtroom to order at exactly eight o’clock in the morning. The sound echoed against the room’s wooden walls and floor. The fifteen-star flag of the Union hung in the corner, giving the plain room a semblance of officiousness. The Judge shuffled some papers, dipped his quill in an ink pot, and began to write, evidently creating a record of the proceedings.

  Those involved and those just curious stuffed the room beyond its capacity. Bud Foley, Frank Foley’s brother, and the other buffalo hunters elbowed their way to the front, forcing others to move aside. The hunters took up a good part of the available spectator space. At once, the room began to reek of their disagreeable stench—a putrid mixture of dried blood seasoned with copious amounts of dirt and sweat.

  Foley’s surly countenance also soured the atmosphere as he slumped in his chair next to the young constable.

  The constable, his hair slicked back with grease, appeared to Sam to be far more anxious than Foley did. The young man sat in his chair as if it was a church pew on Sunday morning.

  If he were honest, he was anxious himself—eager for this charade to be over with.

  Catherine sat directly behind the small table where Sam, along with Stephen and William, were seated. He turned to look at her, but her eyes were focused on the Judge. She looked lovely in a new blue gown, her raven hair shimmering as the morning sun poured on her through the only window. But worry dimmed the normal brightness of her face and he noticed that her hand rested on her dagger attached to the gown’s belt. He realized she was still irritated with him and wouldn’t look at him. For that, he was almost grateful. He needed to be able to focus on what the Judge was saying.

  Reluctantly, he forced himself to turn back around, but he couldn’t force his mind to stop thinking about her. That morning, she insisted on going to the courtroom and no amount of arguing was going to stop her. It annoyed him a great deal because he did not want her anywhere near these buffalo hunters. However, as the trial began, he was actually pleased she was there. But why? He remembered their kiss—the most memorable of his life, and he had stolen quite a few as a spry young man. But never had a kiss stirred his soul as that one had. He could make himself feel drunk with pleasure just thinking about it.

  But a kiss was just a kiss. It wasn’t love. He didn’t love her. He couldn’t love her. He told her it was just a kiss. He’d been honest with her. He crossed his arms in front of him. It would remain a pleasant memory he would store up for lonely nights. Nothing more.

  After he had finally given up arguing with her about attending the trial, Catherine had generously given a surprised Jane enough money to treat herself, Kelly and the children to something new. She said it was a thank you for all the hospitality and protection their family had provided her. They all needed new clothing, and Sam and Stephen didn’t want them to remain alone at camp. A shopping excursion to the general store and some of the town’s assorted shops seemed a perfect solution. Jane was exceedingly worried about the trial, but her daughters needed looking after and a trip to town was just the distraction they all needed. Catherine had made Jane promise to spend every penny of the money that very day.

  Sam decided to try to turn his mind to the buffalo hunters. His jaw clenched as he memorized their faces, still bruised and swollen from the fight. As he studied each one, his fists tightened, pulling his skin taut over his own cracked and swollen knuckles. His eyes locked on the one they called Big Ben. The man had a foot-long skinning knife in a scabbard under his left shoulder. The hunter’s wild and cocky amber eyes glowered back at him. With a sense of foreboding, he knew instinctively that he would again tangle with the man no matter the outcome of the trial. Sudden anger clawed at him for no apparent reason, like a primitive warning.

  As Sam scrutinized Big Ben, he saw uncertainty creep into the hunter’s expression. Good, he wanted to rattle the arrogant bastard.

  Then, a sudden chill filled him as he heard the Judge’s gavel vigorously pound again.

  He didn’t know how any of this was going to end.

  “Mr. Foley, I’m not surprised in the least to see you in my courtroom based upon your history and reputation. I am surprised that you are not the defendant. Since you appear to be here without representation, state your complaint,” Judge Webb ordered, glowering at Foley.

  “I don’t need no money-taking, slick-talking, lying lawyer to tell you what these dirty pilgrims did. I can speak for myself. Those men attacked my men and me. Just because they’re some highfalutin’ family from back east doesn’t give them t
he right to attack honest Kentucky citizens. They killed a good man and nearly killed me. I lost this hand to the big one over there. Take a look at his knife Judge. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen. A knife like that is only meant for one thing—killing.”

  The Judge motioned for Sam to show him the knife.

  Sam stood, freed the knife from its sheath, and held the glistening blade up for the Judge to see.

  “Very impressive, Captain,” Judge Webb said before turning his attention back to Foley.

  “He threw that knife at me like I was some kind of wild animal. I was just picking up my rifle to leave.” Foley pointed a long dirty finger at Stephen. “And that man nearly beat me to death. I want them punished for what they done. They murdered one of my men and brutally beat the rest. And I’ve suffered more in the past week than you can imagine. The pain has been unbearable.”

  No more than you deserve, Sam thought to himself.

  “I want them to pay me for the loss of this hand. I made an honest living hunting buffalo. I was one of the best killers of that wild beast in the state. I’ll never be able to balance a heavy gun or skin a buff again. They robbed me of my living, which brought me considerable profit in the past. Kentucky law says I should get paid for my injury. They surely brought money with them to buy land. I’ll take that as payment for my hand.”

  “I’m sure you would, but I’ll decide what you get. And you sure as hell don’t need to tell me what Kentucky law says,” Judge Webb growled. “I asked you to state your complaint. Have you done so, or is there more?”

  “Ain’t this enough?” Foley answered sarcastically, holding up his arm without a hand.

  “Mr. William Wyllie, I understand you represent your brothers Stephen and Sam Wyllie.”

  William stood. “That is correct your Honour.”

  “Would you please tell me what the hell happened?”

  “Indeed, your Honour. My brothers and I are newcomers to Kentucky. Like many of this new state’s citizens, we came here in search of the good land, so plentiful on the frontier, and so scarce in our home state of New Hampshire. Captain Sam Wyllie, Stephen Wyllie, and our adopted brother Bear McKee, had just left the office of Mr. Wolf, to whom the three men had gone to discuss land availability. When they started back to our camp, Mr. Foley grabbed Captain Wyllie’s horse. Foley insisted on buying the horse, although Captain Wyllie made it abundantly clear the horse was not for sale. Foley told his man to get two cases of whiskey to trade for the horse. When my brothers then tried to move on, Foley proceeded to behave in a manner not befitting a gentleman, and referred to them as cowards. And on this and one other instance, he also insulted the females in our party. Since there are ladies present, I will not repeat his vulgar words. That insult is not something any man of character, especially my brothers, are prone to overlook. They dismounted and defended their honor, your Honour.”

  “So, this fight started because they were insulted?” Judge Webb asked.

  “Well,” William hesitated, knowing he was trapped, “yes, your Honour.”

  “And, did I understand correctly, Captain Wyllie threw the first punch?”

  “He did, Sir, but…” William stammered.

  “There are no buts, Mr. Wyllie. Either he did or he didn’t. Do you have anything else to say in your brothers’ defense? Do you have any witnesses?” Judge Webb asked. The Judge shifted in his chair as though he were already uncomfortable.

  The prickly Judge was not the only one ill at ease. Sam could see William growing more exasperated by the second. He watched as William loosened the perfectly tied cravat around his neck, and then took a deep breath now that he could breathe a little easier.

  “Indeed, your Honour, I have a good deal more to say. A ball from Mr. Foley’s own weapon killed his man. An unfortunate accident that would never have happened had Foley not pointed his weapon at my brother Stephen. Captain Wyllie merely responded to that serious threat, believing our brother Stephen was about to be fatally shot. In fact, my brother exercised restraint. If you knew the Captain’s ample skill with his knife, you would know that he could easily have aimed to kill Mr. Foley. Instead, he only sought to get the man to drop his weapon by aiming for his arm.

  “Also, your Honour, some of what I have to say may shock the court. I have determined that Mr. Foley has, at the very least, intimidated and harassed numerous townspeople causing considerable grief. He and his men behave in an unruly manner, but most importantly….”

  “Mr. Wyllie,” Judge Webb interrupted, “half the men in Kentucky behave in an unruly manner, and the other half will undoubtedly do so soon. May I remind you, Mr. Foley is not on trial here, your two brothers are. Your facts should pertain only to this case. Otherwise they are as worthless as farts in a whirlwind.”

  William’s face turned red at the Judge’s terse and imaginative reprimand.

  Was his brother going to lose this case before their defense even begun? What would they do if he did? He knew one thing for sure. He wasn’t going to jail. He turned to look at Stephen, but his eyes caught Catherine instead. Her head bent and hands folded respectfully, he could tell she was praying. Did she care for them so much that she would pray on their behalf?

  The sight seemed to strengthen him. He could feel her concern in his heart. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and reassure her that everything would be all right. They would not lose. Somehow, William would make the Judge understand.

  Despite being humiliated, William straightened, and seemed to gather his wits. “Your Honour, I am trying to establish this man’s character, or more accurately the lack of it, to this court. If Mr. Foley’s account is to be believed in this incident, he must be a man of honor. His actions toward others are an indication of his lack thereof.”

  “The purpose of this court is not to determine the virtue of a man. I’ll leave that to the judge,” Judge Webb retorted, pointing heavenward with his gavel, “and I will remind you, Mr. Wyllie, but once more. Mr. Foley is not on trial here.”

  CHAPTER 23

  “If your Honour will permit me a few more moments of the court’s time,” William said deferentially.

  And patience, Sam thought.

  “All right Mr. Wyllie, proceed, but get to your defense quickly.” Judge Webb squirmed in his chair again. “And be damn sure your facts are relevant.”

  “Your Honour, Captain Wyllie and Stephen Wyllie did not strike Mr. Foley and his men until provoked beyond what men of principle could be reasonably expected to withstand. And, Captain Wyllie did not throw his knife until after Mr. Foley picked up and aimed his powerful weapon with the intention of mortally harming Stephen Wyllie. I call Mr. Tom Wolf to the stand to testify to these facts. Mr. Wolf witnessed the entire fight. He is the only one, of at least a dozen men who can offer similar testimonies to these unfortunate events, who has the courage and fortitude to testify. All of the others are so afraid of retribution by these ruffians they will not take the stand. However, Mr. Wolf, as you are no doubt already aware Judge, is a man of honor and a leading citizen in this community and believes it his duty to testify. He understands that men like these ruffians must be held accountable, or his children will grow up in a place without law and order.”

  Foley and the other buffalo hunters glared and jeered at Wolf as he came forward.

  Wolf glanced sharply back at them, his eyes blazing, and then stood before the judge.

  Sam still couldn’t believe Mr. Wolf had agreed to testify. He suspected Wolf had heard the same story about Foley being a traitor and saw this as an opportunity to rid Boonesborough once and for all of these troublemakers. Men like Foley’s bunch were bad for business.

  Wolf quickly described the incident to the Judge who clearly continued to grow impatient. The witness stressed the part of the fight where Sam could easily have killed one of Foley’s men, but instead exercised restraint and mercy by only cutting the man’s long hair, not his throat.

  Sam swallowed. He had St
ephen to thank for his supposed restraint.

  “Thank you Mr. Wolf, you may leave.” The Judge waved the witness away.

  Foley jumped up. “That’s not at all what happened. He only has one witness. I have four sitting right here. They’ll all tell you that Stephen fellow there attacked me first and I never pulled a weapon on nobody. I want my brother to testify first.”

  “Let’s save the court some time, shall we?” Judge Webb glared at the group of buffalo hunters. “Do you all agree with the version of the incident told by your leader?”

  The four men all vigorously shook their heads.

  “I thought so. Please continue Mr. Wyllie.”

  “If Mr. Foley can use his brother and companions as witnesses, than so could I. Instead, as you just heard, I have provided the court with a very credible third party, not involved in the altercation.

  “Judge Webb, the most important information for the court to consider is that Mr. Foley’s testimony cannot be trusted because he is a man wholly without principle. We have reason to believe that he is in this new state of Kentucky to escape probable punishment in the colonies for treason. We believe he served as a scout for the British during our war for independence.”

  Sam saw outrage flash across the faces of those in the courtroom, including the stunned Judge. Webb’s angry gaze swung over to Foley. Treason was the most despicable of crimes.

  One man in the courtroom yelled out, “You lousy red-coat hell spawn.”

  “You served the locusts of the nation,” another shouted.

  “The dogs would have enslaved us,” bellowed another, “and ravished our daughters.”

  Sam wasn’t surprised that the emotions that fueled the Revolution still ran high. But he now knew honorable men had fought for the British too. The bitterness of war, though, was a hard fire to put out.

  After the shouts died down, William cleared his throat and continued. “Kentucky, like all places on the edge of civilization, harbors men running from their past as well as men running toward their future. Before you today stand both kinds of men.”