The Ballad of Emma O'Toole. Elizabeth Lane

Emma’s chest tightened, almost choking off her breath. Her palms were clammy. Her pulse skittered.

      “The defendant will please rise.”

      Logan Devereaux rose to his feet. His head was high, his spine so rigid that it might have been braced with a ramrod. He stood in silence as the verdict was read.

      “On the count of first degree murder, we the jury find the defendant not guilty.”

      A quiver rippled across his taut shoulders. At the very least, he wasn’t going to hang.

      “On the count of second degree murder, we the jury find the defendant not guilty.”

      Emma sagged in her seat. Heaven save her, was Billy John’s killer about to go free?

      “On the count of manslaughter in the first degree, we the jury find the defendant…guilty.”

      An audible sigh swept through the courtroom. Logan Devereaux swayed slightly, then appeared to steady himself as he waited for the judge to pronounce sentence.

      T. Zachariah Farnsworth leaned forward, his expression as stern as a great horned owl’s. “Mr. Devereaux, you’ve been tried and found guilty of manslaughter by a jury of your peers. For your crime I hereby sentence you to five years in the Utah Territorial Prison.”

      A shudder passed through Devereaux’s body. Emma pressed her hands to her face to hide her emotion. Hector Armitage had sprung to his feet and was pushing his way toward the aisle.

      “Order!” The gavel rapped sharply. The judge’s scowl deepened as silence settled over the courtroom. “Given the extenuating circumstances, this court is willing to consider an alternative form of sentencing. Miss Emma O’Toole, would you please rise?”

      Trembling and bewildered, Emma stood. The judge cleared his throat.

      “As I understand it, the death of Mr. Billy John Carter has left this young woman and her unborn child with no means of support. Mr. Devereaux, in lieu of prison, would you be willing to marry the girl and provide that support?”

      Emma’s jaw dropped in shock, and she knew she wasn’t alone in her astonishment. The whole courtroom was silent enough to hear a pin drop. Even the gambler’s calm mask had given way to pure, wide-eyed surprise.

      “Understand that if you fail in your duty as a husband, if you abandon your wife, or mistreat her or her child in any way, you’ll be thrown into prison to serve your sentence.” He paused, giving his words time to penetrate. “How say you, Mr. Devereaux? Are you willing?”

      Without so much as a glance at Emma, Devereaux answered. “Yes, Your Honor, I’m willing.”

      “And you, Miss O’Toole?”

      How could this nightmare be happening? Emma struggled to find her voice. “Mr. Devereaux killed the father of my child. What if I refuse to marry him?”

      “If you refuse to allow him to serve the terms of the sentence he has agreed to fulfill then, dear girl, I shall be compelled to suspend his sentence and set him free.”

      Emma’s hands clenched beneath her shawl. She’d promised Billy John, promised him on her mother’s grave, that the gambler would pay for what he’d done. If Logan Devereaux went free, she had no doubt he’d leave town, and she lacked the means to follow him and keep that promise. Only as Logan’s wife could she ensure access to him to exact her vengeance. Hanging was no longer an option, but at least she could make living as much a misery for him as possible.

      It seemed there was no other way to keep her vow.

      “Miss O’Toole, do you plan to keep us here all day? What’s your decision?”

      Emma braced her knees to keep them from giving way beneath her. “You leave me little choice,” she said. “I’ll take him.”

      The judge glanced at the bailiff. “Escort the prisoner and Miss O’Toole to chambers for the ceremony. Doctor Kostandis, you may come along to serve as witness. As for the rest of you, go home. Leave these people to settle their differences in peace.”

      At the final crack of the gavel, the courtroom erupted in pandemonium.