The Heart Of A Hero

“I can’t.” The deputy looked uncomfortable.

Jess stopped in the center of the kitchen and braced himself. “What’s wrong?”

“Sheriff Neville sent me over here, Jess. They’re having a hearing in town tomorrow. You’ve got to be there.” He looked at Sarah. “You, too.”

She touched her throat. “Me? What for?”

“Yeah, Nate. What’s going on? What sort of hearing?”

“Circuit judge will be here.” Nate pulled at his neck. “Sorry, Jess. They want to take the kids away from you.”

Chapter Four

Jess paced the boardwalk across the street from the Walker courthouse as townspeople streamed inside. He punched his fist into his open palm. Damn them. Damn them all. Bunch of busybodies who ought to be taking care of their own problems, not nosing into his.

He shook his head, anger tightening his chest. He ought to go into that courtroom and tell them off—every one of them.

“Jess?” Nate Tompkins rounded the corner and stopped in front of him. “I want you to know, Jess, I had nothing to do with this hearing.”

Jess jerked his jaw toward the courthouse across the street. “I know who’s behind it. The same people who’re always causing problems in Walker.”

“It’s Sheriff Neville who started it.”

“The sheriff?” Jess’s brows pulled together in a tight scowl. “What does he care about Cassie’s kids?”

“It’s not that, Jess.” Nate drew in a deep breath. “What you did over in Kingston, you know, with the sheriff there? Well, that sheriff was Neville’s cousin.”

Jess blanched and fell back a step. “Damn....”

“The other folks in town, well, I guess they’re really concerned about the kids. Everybody loved your sister, Jess. They want to see Maggie and Jimmy taken care of proper.”

“I don’t believe that, not for a minute.” Jess shook his head.

“Truth is, a couple of families already spoke up for them.”

Jess’s stomach tightened. Some other family raising Cassie’s children? No, he wouldn’t allow it. He wouldn’t let Maggie and Jimmy be handed over to strangers.

“You watch yourself in court today,” Nate said. “Judge Flinn would like nothing better than to throw you in jail. And Sheriff Neville would like nothing better than to be the one locking you inside.”

Jess nodded. They crossed the street and went inside the courtroom.

“All right, all right. Come to order.” Judge Percy Flinn rapped his gavel, silencing the murmur that rippled through the crowd. He shuffled papers and peered over the rim of his spectacles. “Jess Logan? You here, Logan?”

He and everyone else in town. Jess fought his way through the crowded aisle, feeling every hot gaze in the room on him. Damn bunch of nosy bastards, gawking at him like a circus sideshow. He wanted to slam his fist into each and every face, curse at them all until the knot in his gut unwound. Instead, he kept his eyes forward and stepped in front of the judge.

Judge Flinn gave the papers another cursory glance. “Logan, your past has brought into question your fitness to raise the children of your deceased sister. And judging from these reports, your actions of late only confirm it. What have you got to say for yourself?”

Jess squared his shoulders, blocking out the people leering at him. They were all here, Alma Garrette, the preacher, Emma Turner from the mercantile. Even Mrs. McDougal peeked in through the window. All here, all waiting to see him fail.

“Cassie was my only sister. When I found out she’d passed on I knew it was up to me to take care of her kids. I didn’t want them raised by strangers.”

The judge peered over his spectacles. “But you’d never seen them before. You’re a stranger to them, aren’t you?”

Jess shifted. “I’m their family.”

“I don’t like your past, Logan. I don’t like what happened down in Kingston.” Judge Flinn jerked his thumb toward an empty chair. “Sit down.”

Buck Neville rose and hung his fingers in his vest pockets. “I’ve got people willing to testify, Your Honor.”

“All right. Get them up here.”

Jess mumbled under his breath as Alma Garrette threw him a smug look and eased her wide frame into the chair at the corner of the judge’s desk.

“Well, Your Honor, we were all shocked that Jess Logan showed his face in town after all the trouble he’d caused here before. Wanting to raise those children—why, he never lifted one finger to help his sister and he never even laid eyes on the children before.” Alma jerked her chin indignantly. “I saw him in town with little Jimmy, and the boy looked like he hadn’t bathed in a week. His clothes were wrinkled and soiled. Jess Logan was wearing his gun, like some sort of gunslinger. I’d heard that’s what he was.”

A murmur rippled through the courtroom.

Alma pursed her lips. “I heard he’d been paid to shoot the governor of Texas a few years back.”

The crowd rumbled and Judge Flinn rapped his gavel again. “Order!”

“Well, then—then—I saw him leave little Jimmy sitting all by himself outside the Green Garter Saloon so he could go in and drink.”

Jess winced as the crowd grumbled, and Alma Garrette sailed back to her seat, her nose in the air.

Buck Neville glared at Jess. “Mrs. Turner, you want to come on up here?”

Emma, from the Walker Mercantile, took the chair. “I don’t know much about Jess since he left Walker years ago, except what I heard around town. And that story of how he disgraced that young woman down in Galveston, then refused to marry her really upset me.”

“Tell the judge about Jimmy,” Buck instructed.

“Oh, yes, that.” Emma cleared her throat uncomfortably. “The child refuses to speak, Your Honor. But Jess had him in my store bribing him with licorice to get him to talk. I just didn’t think that was right.”

The judge grunted and jotted a note on the papers in front of him. “Anybody else?”

Lottie Myers took the stand next. “Little Maggie goes to school with my Mary Beth. They’re good friends. Well, it seems Mr. Logan lets the children eat whatever they want for supper. One night all they had was cookies. And that poor child’s hair is a snarl of tangles. Cassie used to keep it so pretty. But it looks like no one is tending to her now.”

Jess’s chest tightened as Lottie stepped down. Nosy busybodies. They didn’t know what the hell they were talking about—any of them. His anger and hatred for the people of Walker grew.

Reverend Sullivan spoke next. He, at least, had the decency to offer Jess an apologetic look.

“No, Mr. Logan hasn’t brought the children to church or to Bible study. But I figured it was just a matter of him getting settled here in town.”

“Thank you, Reverend.” Sheriff Neville turned to the crowd again. “Mrs. Wakefield?”

Sarah’s heart rose in her throat as she made her way to the front of the room. Settling into the chair she chanced a look at Jess. He appeared composed, maybe even at ease. But Sarah saw the tic in his cheek, the tightness in his jaw, the blue of his eyes harden to cold, steely gray. The people of Walker were going to take the children away from him. She knew it. And it was obvious to her that Jess knew it, too.

Judge Flinn consulted his papers. “You’re the schoolmarm here in Walker. Just moved here. Is that right, Mrs. Wakefield?”

“Yes, Your Honor.” Her voice was a tight whisper.

“Speak up, ma’am.” The judge whipped off his spectacles. “What have you observed about Mr. Logan, the children, and their living conditions?”

She glanced at Jess, then cleared her throat. “Admittedly, Mr. Logan isn’t the best housekeeper I’ve ever met. And, too, there’ve been times when Maggie’s lunch could have been better. But Maggie is very happy, Your Honor. She speaks highly of her uncle. He helps her with her reading, and tells the children stories every night at bedtime. He’s very affectionate with them.”

The judge peered down his long nose at her. “Is that so?”

“Yes, Your Honor. And it’s true that Jimmy won’t talk, but that problem existed before Mr. Logan even got to town. I don’t know why he would have come here in the first place if he wasn’t interested in their well-being. He seems to genuinely care for the children. They care for him, too. And isn’t love just as important as proper meals and clean clothes?”

The courtroom fell silent. Sarah felt every gaze in the room boring into her as she took her seat again.

Jess heard his heart pounding in his ears as Judge Flinn settled his spectacles on his nose once more and looked down at him. He rose to his feet.

“Seeing as how you’re the children’s only blood kin, the court will give you time to prove you can take proper care of them. But you see here, Logan, I don’t like you and I sure as hell don’t like what happened in Kingston. I’ll be back next month, and if I hear that you’ve as much as spit downwind in this town, I’ll give those children to somebody else. Understand?”

Jess gave him a curt nod. “I got it.”

The judge pounded his gavel. “Next case!”

The crowd grumbled and headed for the door. Sarah pushed her way outside, anxious for some fresh air. On the boardwalk, Alma Garrette caught her arm.

“I hope you’re pleased with yourself. The judge would have given those children a proper home if it hadn’t been for you.”

Sarah’s breath caught. “I told the truth, Mrs. Garrette. That’s all.”

“The truth? You don’t know the truth.” Alma leaned closer, her eyes narrowed. “The truth is that Jess Logan gunned down the sheriff over in Kingston. Shot him in cold blood. And went to prison for it, too. Now, do you still think he’s the kind of man who ought to raise two small children? Do you?”

Breath left Sarah’s lungs in a single huff. Passersby on the boardwalk glared at her. She heard someone mumble her name.

Alma tossed her head. “The judge will be back in a month. You’d better think long and hard about what you say next time.”

Sarah stumbled away, her mind racing. Prison? Jess had been in prison? He’d shot a lawman—in cold blood?

She wrung her hands as she hurried down the boardwalk. Why had she gotten involved? She should have refused to testify. She should have kept to herself. She’d broken the vow she’d made and now look at what had happened. The town was turning against her. She could lose her job. And all because of Jess Logan.

He should have told her about his past He should have known what she’d say in front of the judge. But he hadn’t opened his mouth. He’d let her stick out her neck, all for his own good.

Anger rose in her throat, pulling her heart with it.

Jess stepped out in front of her at the comer of the bank. He was mad, too.

“Bastards.” He flung his hand toward the crowd of people still filing out of the courthouse. “Nosy hypocrites. I’m not living my life to suit them—any of them. And if they think I’m going to kiss their butts just to keep those kids, they can all think again.”

Sarah rounded on him, fury roiling in her. “Oh, is that right? You listen to me, Mr. Jess Logan. They’ll take those children away from you in a heartbeat—and enjoy doing it. Don’t think they won’t. So if you really care about your sister’s memory, if you really want what’s best for Maggie and Jimmy, then I suggest you pucker up.”

Sarah whipped around and stalked away.

While she’d have preferred to bury her head under her pillow and never show her face in town again, Sarah met Dwight Rutledge at the Blue Jay Café for supper, as she’d promised. Dwight, at least, was respectable company. Being seen with him couldn’t hurt.

“Quite the doings in court today.” Dwight settled back in his chair across from her.

“Were you there? I didn’t see you.” Maybe now he wouldn’t want to be seen with her. Sarah’s stomach soured. Goodness, what had she gotten herself into?

“I think it was a good thing you did, speaking out like that.” Dwight nodded emphatically, then grinned slowly. “I didn’t realize you had such strong feelings about children and...love.”

She wished he’d stop looking at her that way. “I told the truth. That’s all. Of course, I’m not sure everyone else in town feels the same way as you.”

Dwight reached across the table and laid his big hand over hers. “You did the right thing. It shows integrity. I like that in a woman.”

“Thank you.” She eased her hand away, wondering if the rest of the town would see her single-handed influence on the judge in such a favorable light.

Kirby Sullivan stopped by their table to take their supper order. “I heard what happened at the courthouse this afternoon. I’m glad Jess got another chance.”

Relieved that not everyone had turned on her, Sarah sighed. “I hope it works out for him.” But in her heart, she didn’t see how it could. Not with the way Jess felt about the townspeople.

Dwight ordered steaks for them both and talked about his business straight through to dessert. The sun was slipping toward the horizon, painting the sky a gorgeous blue as they stepped out onto the boardwalk.

“Let me show you my store while we’re in town.” Dwight tugged proudly on his vest. “Doing quite well, if I say so myself.”

A look at Walker Feed and Grain was only marginally more appealing than spending another evening alone at her house, so Sarah agreed. They walked, Dwight pointing out places he considered interesting. Shops and businesses had closed and the boardwalk at this end of town was nearly empty. Seeing Megan Neville was a surprise.

“Oh! Hello, Mrs. Wakefield.” Megan touched her brown hair and smoothed her skirt, seeming as surprised as anyone at the chance meeting.

“Hello, Megan.”

“What brings you down here at this hour?” Dwight frowned at her. “Mighty late to be out and about. Does your pa know you’re here?”

She glanced nervously at him, then back at Sarah. “Actually, I—I’m looking for Papa. Have you seen him?”

“Is something wrong?” Sarah asked.

“No. No, nothing. Nothing at all. I’d better go.” Megan hurried away.

Dwight watched her leave, then looked down at Sarah. “Such a delightful child. Turned out real good, what with her ma dying and all. Been hard on Buck Neville, too, handling his sheriff duties, raising a child. A man needs a wife. Don’t you think?”

Sarah turned toward his store, deliberately ignoring his question. “Is that a light on’ inside? I thought you’d closed up.”

“I did.” He pulled the big brass key from his pocket and opened the door. “Who’s there?”

“It’s me, Mr. Rutledge. It’s Zack.”

Peering around Dwight, Sarah saw a tall, lanky young man step in from the back room. He looked to be about twenty, with even looks and black, curly hair.

He pushed both hands through his hair, smoothing it in place, and shoved his shirttail deeper into his trousers. “I stayed late to get a jump on tomorrow’s work, Mr. Rutledge. That’s all.”

“All right. Lock up when you’re done.” Dwight closed the door. Finding someone already inside, Dwight seemed to have little desire to show Sarah around. She wondered why.

He linked his arm through hers as they walked back down the boardwalk. “That’s Zack Gibb. You remember, I told you about his family.”

The inbreeders who married their cousins. How could she forget?

“Working late, without being asked.” Dwight nodded slowly. “Family ties are tight with those Gibbs. Zack and Gil, especially, even though Gil is a real hothead. Remember, I told you he was the gunfighter. But it looks like I picked the right Gibb to work for me. That Zack. A dedicated worker.”

Sarah glimpsed Megan Neville disappearing around the corner ahead of her. “Yes, I suppose so.”

Twilight settled as Sarah reached her little house across from the school, Dwight beside her. After hearing him talk all evening, she felt sure she could open her own feed and grain store.

Dwight suddenly stopped short and squared his shoulders. Sarah’s breath caught as she saw Jess sitting on her front steps, Maggie and Jimmy playing in the side yard. A myriad of emotions surged through Sarah, causing her heart to beat harder.

Jess rose slowly, put away his pocket knife and tossed aside the stick he’d been whittling.

“Logan.”

“Rutledge.”

The men glared at each other.

Sarah stepped away from Dwight. “Thank you for supper.”

He tore his gaze from Jess, a scowl drawing his features together. “I’ll come to call after services on Sunday.”

Sarah glanced at Jess and saw his shoulders stiffen. “No, I won’t be here. I’m having supper with the Sullivans.”

His expression soured. “Another time, then.”

Dwight stared at Jess again. Jess braced his arm against the porch roof support column, making it clear he didn’t intend to leave. Finally, Dwight touched the brim of his hat. “Good evening.”

Sarah watched him until he faded into the gray shadows stretching across the road. She turned to Jess and his bravado dissolved.

“I, ah, I brought back your kettle.” He gestured to the black pot sitting on the porch.

“You didn’t have to wait.”

“I didn’t wait. I just got here.”

The heaping mound of wood chips he’d whittled told a different story.

Jess ignored her unspoken challenge and walked down the steps. He waved his hand at the house. “Do you really live in this place? It looks like it’s ready to fall down.”

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