couldn’t fight his smile as Rachell stomped toward him, her face flushed with anger. He was beginning to see why Sumner had sent four men after this one tiny woman.
“You know this judge?” she asked, moving close beside him.
“Yep.”
“Please tell me he’s another friend of yours.”
“Not hardly. Widell’s a circuit judge from hell.”
A deep sense of dread washed over Rachell as she watched all the warmth drain from Jed’s face. He took her by the elbow and guided her toward the double swinging doors.
Lord, she hated saloons.
A rumble of conversation dropped to low murmurs as she stepped inside. The smell of smoke and whisky was enough to make her gag. She was surprised to see over a dozen men seated at tables scattered across one side of the dimly lit room, many with whisky-filled tumblers sitting in front of them.
Shouts of greeting rang out when Jed strode in behind her. Jed acknowledged a few by name. He followed Sheriff Emmit to a table a few feet in front of the bar. Placed atop the bar was what she assumed to be a makeshift court bench. An elderly judge resided behind the block of polished wood. His chair, placed upon some sort of platform, set him above everyone in the room.
His face a network of folds and wrinkles, the man looked to be a full hundred years old. A pair of wire spectacles sat upon his bulbous nose. His fingers laced across his chest stood out against his ebony robe like long, white bones, lapping over knobby knuckles. A few remaining strands of white hair swerved around his head. The elderly judge looked down at her with squinted eyes as she followed Jed to the table at the center of the saloon.
A large burly man stood in front of the bar with his arms folded across his thick chest. He nodded, his lips showing the hint of a grin as Jed stepped up to the table. “Howdy, Jed.”
“Buster,” Jed replied. Rachell stared up at the man beside her in disbelief. Did he know everyone in all of Colorado?
“Jed Doulan,” croaked the judge. “Must be near fifteen years since I’ve seen yer mug. Should’ a known it was too good to last.”
So the ogre does have a last name!
“What’s this, the sixth time I’ve seen you before my court?”
“Judge Widell,” Jed responded in a dry tone. “I believe it is. Figured you’d have put down stakes by now, or did you run out of cattle rustlers and horse thieves to hang in Texas?”
“Stakes? Why should I limit myself to one stuffy courthouse when there’s dens of sin all over this land needin’ my justice? Trouble is, I seem to find you in every one of ‘em. I knew you was a hellion the first time I laid eyes on you in Texas.”
Rachell watched the two men exchange a quick smile, yet Jed had implied they weren’t friends.
“Damn shame what happened to that little squaw of yers. You did the world a favor by huntin’ down that pack of vermin. Don’t suppose I’m seein’ you today under those type of circumstances?”
“No.”
Rachell peered up at the man beside her. His little squaw had obviously met some horrible fate, yet Jed’s staunch expression never wavered. Cold gray eyes stared straight ahead.
“Whelp, you and the lady know why you’re here, so let’s get this started. Buster!”
The burly man walked forward and held out a large Bible.
“If you’ll each place your right hand on the Bible,” Buster instructed.
Rachell pulled in a deep breath as she lifted her shaky hand and placed it next to Jed’s.
“Do you swear before God to tell the truth?”
“I do,” she said in unison with Jed.
Judge Widell leaned forward, peering down at them like a beady-eyed vulture. “You sure got some bigwig stirred up with yer business in Weaver. He’s harpin’ murder to every rail-town in the area. Seems you shot his boy. This Sumner feller’s also claimin’ you kidnapped his fiancée.”
“I am not his fiancée!”
Judge Widell didn’t pay any attention to Rachell, but kept his eyes on Jed.
“Are you tellin’ me all this ain’t on account of yer lady, there?” Judge Widell continued, motioning toward Rachell.
“Mrs. Carlson is not my lady.”
A white eyebrow rose high into his forehead. “Is that so? She was sure fussin’ at you like she was yer lady.”
The room echoed with low chuckles as he turned his gaze toward Rachell. “Missy, you got petticoats on under that skirt?”
The skin of Rachell’s face sizzled as Jed released a low groan. “I, uh—” She glanced up at Jed, but he offered her no assistance, keeping his focus on the judge.
“Spit it out, missy. Either you do or you don’t.”
“No, Your Honor.”
“Jed, what are you doin’ ridin’ around with a woman on yer lap who ain’t even wearin’ petticoats? Where’s her husband?”
“She’s a widow. He died in the War Between the States.”
“Blue or gray?” the judge barked.
“Gray?” Jed finally glanced down at her.
“Yes. He was a lieutenant in the Confederate army.”
“Honorable, honorable,” the judge said, nodding his head. “Lost too many good men on both sides. Let’s move on to the charges at hand. Three counts of murder, destruction—”
“Now wait just a damn minute,” Jed roared. “I no more murdered—”
“No one raises their voice in my courtroom but me!”
“Damn it—”
“One more profane word out of you, Jed, and I’ll have you tossed into jail and leave you there. Have you forgotten the month you’n yer injun’ friend spent behind bars for such behavior in my courtroom? You shot three men dead. The charge is murder.”
Rachell watched Jed’s muscles flex against the strained fabric of his shirt in his obvious attempt to control his temper.
“I can see you’re itchin’ to tell yer side of the story, so let’s jump right to it. I suppose you’re gonna say you fired that side iron of yers in self-defense?”
“Damn straight!”
Widell narrowed his eyes. “A Yes, Yer Honor will suffice. So you did nothin’ to provoke those poor dead souls?”
“I suppose they weren’t too pleased by my taking Mrs. Carlson, but she gave her full consent to leave the premises under my protection. I didn’t draw my weapon ‘til I saw them go for theirs. I’d have been just as willing to leave without a ruckus.”
“But y’all knew that wudn’t gonna happen. Didn’t ya?”
Rachell glanced up at Jed who only shrugged his wide shoulders.
“If she ain’t yer lady, why are you blazin’ yer gun for her?”
“She’s Buck Coleburn’s sister-in-law. I came to escort her safely to California.”
Judge Widell’s face lit with a wide smile, lifting a web of wrinkles. “A woman finally branded that ol’ horse peddler?”
“Yep.”
“Well good for him! Ain’t nothin’ better for a man’s soul than a good woman.” He paused, leaning forward onto his elbows. “So, yer takin’ the little lady to California