Another Dawn (23 page)

      
"You ain't gonna run this time," the marshal stated, rather than asked.

      
"Nope."

      
"Why?"

      
Luke held his breath. Zeke didn't deserve this.

      
"I seen justice done to them two killers, and now that Fanny's gone, I just got no cause to run."

      
"But
this
isn't justice."
 
Luke couldn't keep quiet a minute longer, even when the lawman turned to stare at him again. "You call it justice when a man is sentenced to hang for avenging the deaths of his own mother and sister?"
 

      
Or wrongfully convicted of killing a liquor store clerk?

      
"A jury and Judge Parker saw it otherwise."
 
The marshal's voice was low, ominous. "Ain't my job to say, and it ain't yours either."

      
"How can you call this justice?" Luke's voice rose and he clenched his fists at his sides. "Turn your back and let Zeke walk away.
That
would be justice."

      
"No, not entirely."
 
They all turned to face Mrs. Fleming, who'd come in behind Dora from the front of the building. "That will only be justice if Shane Latimer walks away, too."

      
"Now that's a fact."
 
Zeke nodded, a sly twinkle showing in his faded eyes. "I reckon there might be another job here for you, Marshal."
 

      
"Well, I ain't goin' nowhere until Lucifer's rested good."
 
Marshal Weathers pulled a chair out from the table and looked around the room at them all, his gaze coming to rest on Mrs. Fleming. "Speak your piece, ma'am."

Chapter 9

      
Who is this guy
? Sofie was more than a little impressed with Marshal Sam Weathers. He had
man
written all over him. Virile, fearless, larger than life.
 

      
"Your timing couldn't be better, Marshal," Dora said, urging her mother to take a chair at the table. "There's a town meeting tomorrow evening. We're going to elect a new sheriff."

      
Sofie couldn't stop staring at him. He was easily the tallest man she'd ever seen–at least, that she remembered seeing. His badge, his hat, his guns...
 

      
"John Wayne," she said.
What
?
 
Movies. Television. Westerns. Things that didn't exist here, yet she remembered them with a sort of vague certainty that made her question her sanity daily.

      
"Can't say I ever met up with this John Wayne fella."
 
Marshal Weathers pulled out a chair for her. "Is he a lawman, too?"

      
Father Salazar's chuckle dragged Sofie's attention from the marshal. His eyes twinkled with a mixture of wry amusement and something totally opposite. Anger? Resentment? Then he arched one brow questioningly, as if expecting Sofie to understand his laughter.

      
"John Wayne is just a name I remembered from...somewhere," she explained, flustered and more confused than ever. Why did she remember that name so clearly, when she couldn't remember her own last name? John Wayne must have been someone important. She could see him in her mind, on the big screen. Though in Redemption there were no such things as movies and television.

      
But somewhere there were such things–electric lights, telephones and cars, too. Airplanes? Yes, there had to be. Either that or Sofie's imagination was even more dangerous than she'd realized. Redemption seemed to be in its own little world.
Weird.

      
"It doesn't matter right now," she added quickly, realizing they were all staring at her. "There are more important things to discuss."

      
The marshal nodded and flashed her a heart-stopping smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "That's a fact."
 
He turned to face Mrs. Fleming. "Sam Weathers, ma'am. United States Marshal outta Ft. Smith."

      
"Pleased to meet you, Marshal. I'm Anna Fleming."
 
She waved toward the others. "My daughter Dora, Father Salazar and this is Sofie. I guess you already know everybody else."

      
Marshal Weathers nodded and leaned back in the chair, his narrowed gaze settling on Zeke. "Well, if you really ain't plannin' to run, Zeke, then my job here just got a whole lot simpler."

      
"I ain't got no more call to run."
 
Zeke's expression revealed only resignation.

      
"I can't imagine why you've come for Zeke," Sofie said, trying to avoid Father Salazar's probing gaze. Why was he staring at her so?
 

      
Zeke sighed. "It's true, Miss Sofie. The marshal's gotta take me back to Ft. Smith."
 
He lowered his gaze. "To hang."

      
"No."
 
Mrs. Fleming's voice was clear and strong. "This is wrong, Marshal. Surely you realize that."

      
Marshal Weathers placed his hat on the table before him, staring at it as if all the answers were there in its soiled brim. After a few moments, he met Mrs. Fleming's gaze. "I don't make the laws, ma'am," he said slowly, "but I'm sworn to uphold 'em, just the same."

      
"I understand that."
 
Dora gripped her mother's hand, her face reddening. "But couldn't you just leave and forget you ever saw Zeke?"

      
"Marshal cain't do that, Miss Dora," Zeke said. "It'd be wrong."

      
"No, what's wrong is hanging men and boys for doing what had to be done."
 
Dora's voice cracked.

      
"Do you know what happened?" Father Salazar came to the table and he gripped the back of the chair so tightly his knuckles turned white. "Do you know why Zeke killed those two men, Marshal?"

      
Sam Weathers blinked once and met Father Salazar's gaze. The tension between the two men crackled through the room like lightning. Sofie held her breath, waiting for the marshal to answer.

      
"I do."
 
Sam Weathers sighed slowly and shook his head. "And I would've done the same, considerin'."
 

      
"Then you realize it was justifiable homicide," Father Salazar said, his nostrils flaring and his jaw twitching. "Zeke Judson killed the men who raped and murdered his own mother and sister. How can the law condemn any man for that?"

      
Marshal Weathers didn't even flinch, but Sofie was mesmerized by the passion in Father Salazar's voice. At this moment, he was the most magnificent man she could imagine.

      
And a priest.

      
Why couldn't she seem to remember that fact? Looking at Father Salazar as a man wasn't allowed. He was off limits, yet knowing that didn't prevent her gaze from devouring the length of him again. Her cheeks–and other regions–warmed at the sight. He was quite impressive in civilian clothes. Too impressive.

      
She closed her eyes and forced her attention back to the marshal. Though he was every inch a hunk, Sofie's tastes leaned more toward men like Father–

      
No!
 
Besides, how did she know what her tastes in men were? She couldn't remember any of the men in her life.

      
"Like I said, Father, I don't make the laws."
 
Marshal Weathers turned to face Mrs. Fleming again. "Now, tell me about this Shane Latimer, ma'am."

      
Mrs. Fleming blinked rapidly, but a tear trickled down her cheek despite her efforts. "His father was a horrible man," she said, her voice quivering. "Shane and Jenny's mother came to us on two separate occasions, after her husband had–after he had..."

      
Dora took her mother's hand in hers and met the marshal's gaze. "Charlie Latimer was a drunk, and he beat his wife nearly to death."
 
She paused to draw a fortifying breath. "Twice that we know of, though Lord only knows what happened before they moved here."

      
Mrs. Fleming nodded and met the marshal's gaze again. "Both times, Shane brought his mother and Jenny to us afterward."

      
"Jenny is Shane's sister?"

      
"Yes."
 
Mrs. Fleming cleared her throat and drew a deep breath. "The first time, Dr. Wilson talked Shane out of going after his father, though the boy wanted to. Understandably, of course."

      
The marshal leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "And the second time?"

      
Mrs. Fleming and Dora exchanged glances and Sofie held her breath. Waiting. She'd known there was more to this than a simple case of Shane killing his father.
 

      
A noise sounded from the pantry, and Ab jumped up to open the door. Jenny stared out at them, trembling.
 

      
Mrs. Fleming rushed over to take the child's hand and led her from the large closet. "What on earth...?"

      
"I...I was scared," Jenny said, her gaze darting around the room. "I saw the bad man."

      
"What bad man, honey?" Mrs. Fleming smoothed the child's hair gently. "Only good men are here now. What's wrong, child? Don't be frightened."

      
"My pa...papa was a very bad man."

      
Mrs. Fleming tried to gather Jenny in her arms, but Jenny pulled free and approached the table. "My brother carried Mama to Mrs. Fleming's house," the girl explained, her voice quivering. "There was so much...so much blood."
 
Her voice fell to a whisper. "Her face..."

      
She stood erect, her blond braids hanging neatly in front of her shoulders, her hands clasped before her. "Papa hit Mama all the time, and sometimes he hit me, too."

      
"Oh, God," Father Salazar whispered, followed by something too faint to identify, though it sounded a great deal like
"bastard."

      
"I'm sorry, honey," Marshal Weathers said softly. Expectantly.

      
"I remember him hitting Shane, too, but that was be...before my brother got big."
 
Jenny blinked once. Twice. "That last time, my brother went back after he made sure Mama was all right."

      
Sofie couldn't breathe. She was terrified to hear the rest of the story, yet she sensed Jenny needed to tell it at least once. All of it. Sofie glanced anxiously at Father Salazar to find his gray eyes wide and his mouth drawn into a thin line.

      
"While Mrs. Fleming and Dora were helping Dr. Wilson with Mama," Jenny continued, her expression distant as if she were in a trance, "I followed Shane."

      
"Jenny, no."
 
Mrs. Fleming stepped behind the girl and gathered her back against her. "Don't do this to yourself, child."