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Authors: The Return of Chase Cordell

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“Yes, you can, and you will. You will raise my daughters to be just like you. And when they are old enough, you will let them know that I died with my dignity and my honor.”

“Dignity and honor be damned!” Linese ranted. Chase watched her eyes come alive with hurt and anger. “You men talk of glory, and honor, while you leave your wives and your sons and daughters to go on without you. I won’t listen to this, Chase Cordell, I won’t.”

She tried to cover her ears with her hands, but he grasped them and peeled her fingers gently away. He wanted her to listen to him, while there was time. “Linese, don’t.”

A part of him knew what she said was the truth. But what was a man without honor? What kind of man would he be if he sacrificed his grandfather and Ira in order to save his own life? He loved Linese, but he had to be true to himself. Chase had to be the kind of man his daughters would be . proud to have as their father—dead or alive. Now that he had his past, he realized he had not been the best man he could have been, but he was determined to be the best he could be, now.

“Linese, darling—”

“No. I won’t listen to this, Chase Cordell.” She stamped her feet in a frustrated fit of temper. “You had better not let yourself be killed. I—I just won’t have it! Do you hear? I won’t stand for it.” Her lips quivered while she stared at him in defiance. Then a strange calm settled over her. Eyes bluer and harder than turquoise stone pierced him. Silently she whirled and stomped away from him.

Chase wondered if this was to be the last image he would have of Linese, his love.

Chapter Twenty-Two

L
inese drove the buggy out of Mainfield like a madwoman. Her heart was pounding from both fear and anger.

“Damn men!” she declared aloud. Chase was ready to give himself up without a fight, like a martyr.

“It’s a good thing women bear the children or mankind would cease to exist because of duty and honor.”

After a moment, she slowed the horse to a walk. Her anger had burned itself out, leaving her tired beyond imagining. She thought of the twins and was grateful Melissa was with them at Cordellane.

Linese thought back to the days when she had feared Chase slipping away from her. It was Melissa who had helped her then, just as it was Doralee who had helped free Captain Cordell when he needed help.

Women, those were the people she could depend on in a crisis. If anything was going to get done, it would have to be done by women. Linese stared at the budding trees beside the road and thought of the date, April 8, 1865. It should be the time of new beginnings and new life, not a time to be contemplating death.

The crack of rifle fire deep in the woods made her skin prickle with fear and she found herself looking at the thicket. Men were occupied with killing and dying only miles
from where she sat. It wasn’t safe for her to linger on the road between Cordellane and Mainfield.

Linese slapped the reins on the horse’s rump and resumed her journey home. A plan and a ray of hope had taken shape in her mind. She only had to convince Melissa and Doralee to help her one more time.

Doralee and the girls openly admired the dark-haired twins. Each woman’s face reflected deep, private emotion. Linese found herself wondering what sorrows they had endured, what fork in their paths had brought them to their present destination in life.

“They are beautiful babies, Mrs. Cordell,” Doralee said with a wistful sigh.

“I thought we agreed not to stand on formalities. I am Linese, and thank you. They look just like their father.” Linese gestured to the settee and chairs in the parlor.

Melissa had done the impossible and found enough sugar to make cookies. A plate was piled high with them and the smell of chicory filled the house.

“Please, sit down.” Linese swallowed hard. “I have a very great favor to ask of you all.”

Doralee spread out her skirt and sat down while the other three women with her took a seat. She waited quietly while Linese offered cookies and chicory to them all. Finally when Linese knew she could no longer delay, she forced herself to say the words she had been struggling all afternoon to find.

“I need your help. I’m asking all of you to tell me if any of the men who have… been with you… might have said anything to prove my husband is innocent of murdering Alfred Homstock.”

Linese fidgeted with her cup of chicory, half expecting Doralee to laugh in her face, or get up and leave, if the horrified expression on her face was any indication. The silence seemed to stretch on forever.

“It isn’t much to ask,” Melissa said softly.

Doralee shook her head. “No, it isn’t.” She reached over and patted Linese’s hand. “You just took me by surprise, that’s all.” She leveled a gaze on Linese. “Your husband doesn’t know what you’re doing, does he, Linese? If he did, he most likely would not approve, would he?”

“No, he would not approve of my interfering. Chase will let them slip a rope around his neck before he will violate his damned code of honor.” Linese tried to control the anger and frustration she felt. “He is innocent, but he refuses to say anything to save himself.”

She loved Chase, probably because of the very reason she fumed with anger. But right now, with her daughters asleep in the corner, and the probability of raising them alone so near, it was a bitter thing to admit to anyone, even herself. If he wouldn’t save himself, then perhaps one of these women would give her the information so she could.

“Don’t be too hard on him, honey. He’s not any different than most men. They are mysterious creatures when you get to know them. Let’s see if we can find a way to save him, in spite of himself.”

Two hours later, after Doralee had cussed and discussed every man in two counties, Linese looked at the names she had written down.

“So as far as anyone remembers, these were the only men from Mainfield who were not at your birthday party?” Linese asked while she gazed at the pitifully short list.

Doralee nodded. “It’s hard to remember back nearly three years, but as I recall, Tatum Sprague showed up late as well.”

“Yes, he did. He drank a lot and was bragging about some raid over in Louisiana.” Colleen, a redhead with a slender nose, said, “I thought he was lying to impress me, but now that I think of it, he did leave me an extra dollar.”

“Lord, that must mean he was telling the truth,” Melissa quipped. “He’s tight as fiddle string.”

Linese wrote down the man’s name and put a star beside it. It was not much to pin her hope on, but she had to take
an active part in trying to prove Chase was innocent, since he would not.

Doralee frowned and gnawed her bottom lip. “Since that man was killed over in Ferrin County, I’m not sure any of this makes any difference.”

Linese dipped the quill pen back in the ink bottle before she drew a heavy black line across the paper, dividing it in half. “You’re right. But now I realize I was at the Presbyterian church when he was killed. I never made the connection at the time. There was so many strangers there that night and I was so taken with Chase and his outrageous behavior, but maybe there is something I’ve forgotten, something that I didn’t realize had anything to do with the murder. But as you say it was nearly three years ago.”

She forced herself to think back, to concentrate, to focus on the smallest detail that evening. “Oh, Doralee, there is something. Something I never even thought about. There was someone else from Mainfield, someone who was there when Chase was—but at the time I didn’t know who he was.”

Captain Cordell fixed a blank stare on his face and allowed the Confederate soldier to win another hand of cards. It never ceased to amaze him how confident people became when they thought they were in the company of an inferior. “How about one more hand?” Leland asked.

“Sure.” Captain Cordell leaned back in his chair. He heard the rhythmic rattle of chains and knew Chase was pacing the floor of his cell. It took all the patience and control Aloyisius had cultivated during his years fighting Comanche to keep from hitting Leland in the jaw, grabbing the keys and setting Chase free. It was a tempting thought, but to have his grandson hunted down like a runaway slave was not an improvement over his present dilemma. Only proving his innocence would be enough.

* * *

Linese looked out the window of her bedroom while she buttoned up the front of her dress. Melissa was going to stay with the twins while she attended Chase’s trial. The sun was shining through the budding leaves and dappling the. ground around Cordellane. She was struck by the incongruity of it.

April 9, 1865, looked like any other spring day, but it was not. It would never be like any other day again, not when her husband’s life was in jeopardy.

“You look nice.” Melissa’s voice snapped her thoughts back to the present.

“I’m nothing but a jumble of nerves inside,” Linese admitted with a halfhearted smile.

“Well, it doesn’t show. You look every inch the lady.” Melissa stepped behind Linese and helped her push the last of the hairpins in place.

“I’ve fed the girls—” Linese began.

“I have more than enough milk left since Eathan is nearly weaned. They’ll be fine. Don’t you fret about them. Just go do what you have to do and I’ll be praying for you.”

“Thank you.” Linese nodded. “Have you seen the Captain this morning?” With all that had been going on, she had neglected him. Guilt and concern flowed through her.

“He saddled a horse and left early,” Melissa said.

Linese sighed heavily. “I almost envy him. He has no idea what is happening—the poor dear.”

“Probably a good thing. I’ve heard stories over at Dora-lee’s. He was quite a man in his younger days. If he knew what was going on, he most likely would’ve already pulled the jail down around that Confederate officer’s head, to set Mr. Chase free.”

Linese smiled at the thought. “I wish someone would.” A hot sting of tears behind her eyes made her blink.

“Now don’t you go getting melancholy. It’s going to be all right.”

“You’re right. I’ll tell Chase what I remember about that night and he’ll defend himself. He has to now.”

* * *

Colonel Homstock read the telegram regarding the war once again. He closed his fist and crumpled it into a ball.

“Is there news, sir?” Leland asked with a lift of his brows.

Homstock looked up at the young soldier and shook his head. “Nothing significant.” He couldn’t tell the young soldier the truth, not now, not today when Alfred’s murderer would be brought to justice.

“Oh, Major, I almost forgot.” Leland pulled a scrap of paper from his pocket. “You sent me to nose around and I did find one thing that seemed a bit odd. There was one man in Mainfield who had quite a lot of money right after your brother’s murder.” He handed the paper to Colonel Homstock. “But it wasn’t Chase Cordell.”

Homstock scanned the page quickly, then he looked back up at Leland. “Does anybody else know about this?” Vague suspicions that he had tried to ignore buffeted his sense of right and wrong.

“No, sir.”

“Good, keep it that way. I don’t want anything getting in the way of the trial.”

The door opened and Rancy Thompson walked in. His clothes were rumpled and it looked like he’d been riding all night.

“Sheriff.” Homstock eyed him suspiciously but said no more.

Rancy poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot on the small stove in the corner of the office. “Colonel Homstock.”

“Sir, shall I get the prisoner and take him to the court?”

Rancy’s head came around with a snap. His eyes narrowed to slits. “I’ll be going with you every step of the way.”

Homstock nodded. “Fine. Get him, Leland, it’s time Major Chase Cordell answered the charges against him.”
The report of a rifle outside of town punctuated his sentence. Colonel Homstock wondered if he or the South had even that much time left.

Chapter Twenty-Three

L
inese stood beside the steps of the redbrick courthouse and waited. She had to find a way to speak to Chase when they brought him inside. She had to give him the name of the man she remembered seeing that night, so he would defend himself against the charge.

People jostled her around while they gathered in a milling throng outside the door. She heard dissenting remarks grumbled by both Union and Confederate sympathizers. If Chase had a jury of twelve men, she doubted they would be able to reach a decision about his guilt or innocence, but he wasn’t going to have a jury.

Upon reaching Mainfield, she had heard that a single man was to hear the evidence and make the decision about Chase’s fate. One man was going to sit as judge. She wondered who it would be. One of the Confederate soldiers, or someone from Mainfield? A dark cloud covered the sun for a moment and she glanced up. Thunderheads were building in the west. Linese could smell rain far away. She wrung her hands and glanced inside the courtroom.

It was nearly full. Even the stairway leading to the second-story balcony was congested with men and women trying to find a seat. She supposed it was only natural that so many people would attend. The Cordells had been one of the first families to settle here and were well-known in this corner of Texas. And the fact the
Gazette
had not been allowed
to print a word since the Confederate troops arrived made everyone curious. Since the telegraph had been commandeered by the Southern troops, Mainfield had been trapped in a cocoon of silence. People were hungry for news, stimulation.

Linese’s chest constricted tightly. To some this trial was little more than a diversion, macabre entertainment, to pass the long hours between sunrise and sunset while the life-and-death struggle went on in the woods outside Mainfield.

She heard the crowd’s murmur intensify and turned to see Chase, flanked on one side by Rancy Thompson, and on the other by the Confederate soldier who had taken her cameo and wedding ring.

Her eyes dropped to Chase’s hands and she gasped. They had him shackled from wrist to wrist, and another chain trailed down to his ankles where heavy manacles forced him to take mincing steps. She wanted to cry at the sight of him, but she stuffed her knuckles in her mouth and forced herself to remain silent.

Chase located Linese and watched while she went pale. It sent a ribbon of pain shooting through him. Dear God, she appeared so fragile among the assembly, a tiny blond woman with large blue eyes that held too much pain. He wanted to speak with her, but he knew it was impossible.

While he watched, she recovered enough to valiantly begin elbowing and shoving her way to the front of the group. When she was no more than arm’s length away, Rancy reached out and grabbed hold of his wrist chains.

“Stop right here,” the sheriff commanded loudly.

Chase looked up to see Rancy staring into the Confederate soldier’s face. “Hold up, Leland,” Rancy said.

“Why?” The soldier looked around uneasily.

“I have something in my boot. Stop here a minute.” Rancy released Chase’s chains and squatted down. Chase looked down and saw Rancy nod in Linese’s direction and then wink. The sheriff had given him one tiny fraction of time to speak with her.

“Chase.” She broke through the crowd and wrapped her arms around his neck.

The shackles and chains made it impossible to hold her properly, but he bent his head and nuzzled her damp cheek with his rough, unshaven face.

“Honey, you shouldn’t be here,” he said, but he was glad she was. He wanted to treasure the sight of her, the smell of honeysuckle, and the texture of her golden hair.

“I had to come. Chase, there is something I must tell you.” He heard a tremor of excitement and hope in her voice. He bent lower and felt her warm breath on his ear while she whispered what she remembered. When she was finished speaking, she leaned away and looked expectantly into his eyes.

“You’ll tell them now, you’ll defend yourself?”

He touched the side of her face with his fingertips. How he loved her, how he hated to destroy her hope. But nothing changed with this bit of new information.

“I can’t, Linese. As long as the Southern army holds this town, I can’t say a word to save myself.”

“That’s enough,” Leland barked. Rancy stood up and gave Chase a look that was full of apology and compassion.

“Move along, Mrs. Cordell.” Leland put a hand out to force Linese away. Rage built up inside Chase. He turned, ready to attack the man for daring to touch his precious wife.

“No, Chase,” Rancy said softly. “This isn’t the way. Have faith.”

Chase swallowed hard and tried to stifle his anger. He looked at Linese one last time, then turned toward the courthouse steps. He put one foot in front of the other and walked toward the door, toward his destiny.

When Chase had disappeared inside, Linese rushed into the courthouse and looked around for a seat. There were none on the lower level and she was forced to climb the stairs to the balcony. Every inch of space seemed to be occupied.
She was nearly in tears when she felt a strong hand on her arm.

She turned to see Captain Cordell. His old eyes looked bright and full of pain. “This way, Linese. Come stand beside me.”

She had the ridiculous notion that he was lucid, that he knew what was taking place. She took two deep breaths to calm herself and tried to grasp reality. This was not the time to become hysterical. The Captain was here because every citizen in the county was. No other reason. It was as simple as that.

They took positions side by side at the balcony railing. Linese looked down on the scene below. She watched Chase’s dark head while he settled behind a table. Rancy Thompson and the Confederate soldier maintained their positions on either side of him.

She saw the Confederate officer enter the courtroom from the side door. The sound that filled the room upon his arrival reminded her of a swarm of bumblebees when angered. He swept off his hat and placed it on the table, then he slowly removed his gloves. His sword hung at his thigh and he looked every inch the proud warrior.

A strange silence settled over the courtroom. Linese frowned, trying to figure out why it had suddenly turned so quiet, then she realized that the shooting and cannon fire outside of town had ceased.

For the first time, in more days than she could count, there was no sound of war outside Mainfield. It was eerie. Her stomach clenched into a fist-sized knot. The sound of the gavel hitting wood made her jump. She looked at the solitary man who had entered and sat down behind the table in the center of the courtroom.

“Court is now in session. Silence, please,” Mayor Kerney ordered.

Linese’s knees turned to water. Her hand shot out and she gripped the railing in front of her until her knuckles went white while she fought to keep from fainting dead away.

Now she knew who Chase’s judge was, and her last hope for Chase’s freedom evaporated like rain on a hot day.

“Colonel Homstock,” Kerney said. “Would you like to address the court?”

“Yes, Your Honor.” Homstock strode to the middle of the room and looked at Chase. The angle and distance made it impossible for Linese to read the expression in his eyes while he spoke. “Before we begin, I want this assembly to know this trial is not a military action. The murder of Alfred Homstock, a civilian, occurred in 1862, in Ferrin County and has remained unsolved.” He turned in Rancy’s direction. “Is that correct, Sheriff?”

“Yes, it is correct,” Rancy grumbled.

“Is it also true, the accused, Major Chase Cordell, has refused to give any testimony whatsoever on his own behalf?”

“That’s true.” Rancy’s voice was full of frustration. “Chase has refused to talk about it at all.”

“You have been investigating this case for some time, I understand, Sheriff Thompson.”

“Yes,” Rancy said. “Yes, Ferrin County has no sheriff, so I was in charge of the original investigation,” Rancy answered.

“Since the victim was my brother, and since I studied law before entering the Confederate army, I’d like to act as prosecutor in this case.” There was a collective murmur in the stuffy courtroom. “Is that acceptable to you, Judge?”

Linese’s heart was pounding rapidly in her chest. The air in the room was still, thick with tension and doom. It was like watching a staged play in some bizarre disjointed way. She found herself going numb from the neck down while she watched and listened.

“Your request is perfectly acceptable to the court,” Kerney told the Confederate colonel cheerfully.

“Then I will begin to lay out the evidence in the coldblooded murder of Alfred Homstock.”

Linese shuddered involuntarily. Hatred and a bitter desire for vengeance rang in Colonel Homstock’s voice. She clasped her hands together and prayed silently. Only a miracle could save Chase now.

Chase wanted to turn around and look for Linese, but he forced himself to concentrate on what Homstock was saying. He wanted to search the room, to see if Ira and his grandfather were there, but he held himself rigid and stared only at the Confederate officer. He told himself there was no other way, but a part of him grieved for himself and Linese. He loved her and his daughters, and he found himself praying for a way to escape his fate.

Rain started to fall. At first it was little more than a soft pattering, but soon the droplets were beating on the roof and against the windows of the courtroom like angry fists. Linese had to strain to hear what was being said below.

“First I offer into evidence this handwritten note.”

Mayor Kerney took the paper from Major Homstock. He scanned the page. “For the benefit of the spectators, the note says that a horse bearing the Cordell brand was seen tied where the body of Alfred Homstock was found.” Kerney looked up. “There is no signature.”

Again a ripple of hushed voices rushed through the crowded courtroom. Linese’s stomach roiled violently.

“I would like to call Dr. Lukins to testify,” Colonel Homstock said.

Linese watched while the crowd below shifted slightly. Suddenly Doc appeared, making his way to the single chair positioned by Kerney’s desk. She watched while the physician raised one hand and placed the other on a worn Bible. The rain prevented her from hearing his oath, but when his lips stopped moving he sat down.

“Dr. Lukins, did you examine the body of Alfred Homstock?”

Linese had no trouble hearing the colonel’s voice, it boomed across the courtroom louder than the intermittent thunder.

“Yes.”

“How did he die?”

“He had been shot in the shoulder, but the cause of death was a stab wound in the back.”

Linese gripped the baluster tighter while the murmur in the room changed pitch. To be killed from behind was the most cowardly and unforgivable thing a Texan could imagine.

“Can you determine what kind of weapon was used?” Homstock’s voice was oddly dispassionate while he asked the questions.

“A slender, long blade that pierced his heart. Death was almost instantaneous….”

A clap of thunder obliterated the rest of Doc’s statement. She watched while he left the stand.

Chase turned in his seat and scanned the crowd. She wanted to call out to him, but forced herself to remain silent.

“Samuel Green.” Colonel Homstock’s voice wrenched Linese’s thoughts back to the witness stand. She watched a small, balding man step up to the center of the room and take his oath.

“Mr. Green, what is your profession?” Homstock’s voice drowned out the sound of the storm.

“I am a goldsmith. I make and sell fine jewelry.”

“Did Chase Cordell purchase a piece of jewelry from you after his return from war?” Homstock clasped his hands behind his back and paused in front of Mr. Green.

“Yes, he bought a very fine cameo.”

“How did he pay for this cameo?”

The little man shifted in his seat. Even from her vantage point Linese could tell he was uncomfortable. “He paid with gold coins.”

Homstock continued to stand in front of him, with his hands clenched tightly behind his back. “Was there anything unusual about the coins?”

“What do you mean?”

“Were they common? Have you seen many of their kind?” Homstock’s tone made the small hairs on the back of her neck rise. Something about the way he spoke was sly, conniving and terribly frightening.

“They were just British coins.” Mr. Green fidgeted.

“British coins, you say?” Homstock turned and looked at Chase. His voice was sharp with interest. “They were British coins?”

“Yes, Chase Cordell paid with British gold.”

Linese’s head was swimming. It was common knowledge the British had been helping the Confederacy. Homstock turned to face Kerney. Linese saw Colonel Homstock’s fingers whitening with the pressure he was using to keep his hands clasped behind his back. It struck her as odd, but then everything about this day was out of joint and barely seemed real.

“Your Honor, I would like to dismiss this witness and offer some testimony of my own.”

Mayor Kerney leaned back in his chair. It was an expansive gesture that set Linese’s teeth on edge. “Of course, Colonel, by all means.”

Samuel Green hurried from the witness chair and Colonel Homstock took his place. His posture was stiff and unyielding while he stared in Chase’s direction.

“My brother, Alfred Homstock, had been sent to Mainfield on a secret mission involving the Underground Railroad. He was wearing a money belt, and carrying a quantity of British gold. That gold has never been found.”

The murmur rippled across the courtroom like rolling thunder. Linese shivered inwardly while the impact of Homstock’s words settled on her.

Chase had bought the cameo for her with gold that had come from Alfred Homstock.

The evidence was damning.

Mayor Kerney turned toward Chase. The rain lessened for a moment and the courtroom took on an unnatural silence.

“Chase Cordell, do you have an explanation for this?” Kerney’s voice was not as commanding as Colonel Homstock’s but Linese heard him clearly.

“I have nothing to say.” Chase’s deep baritone filled the courtroom and wrenched a sob from Linese. He turned in his chair and met her eyes. Longing, fear and regret arced between them across the crowded courtroom.

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