Chapter 20
Judge Hiram Brooker
Judge Brooker's stagecoach arrived early Wednesday morning. Under the circumstances, he felt it best to refuse the Dillon's generous offer to stay at the Lady K. However, he did accept their invitation to join them at the Prairie Rose for supper.
The double doors of the Dodge House stood open enticing the mild spring breeze to cool down the lobby. The elderly magistrate winced when his left leg violently objected to the single step in the entry way. He paused for a moment giving the stiff limb time to adjust.
"Judge, are you all right?" Howie hurried around the end of the counter, coming to the aid of one their most esteemed guests. "Here." The clerk reached for the carpet bag. "Let me take this."
Brooker relinquished the brown and blue tapestry bag with a grateful smile. "Thank you Howie. I just need to stretch a bit. A body gets mighty stiff on those long rides." By the time he reached the counter, the clerk had turned the guest register for him to sign.
Brooker plucked the fountain pen from the ink well. "Did the marshal leave some papers for me?" Just as he started to leave his signature, the leaky nip bled on the page coloring in the top loop of the "B". He was careful not to let it drip when he replaced it in the well.
Howie emerged from the back room with a packet. "These for the trial?"
"We don't know there will be a trial yet, Howie." The Judge tucked the envelope under his arm and reached down for his carpet bag. "I'm supposed to have supper with the Dillons. Could you knock on my door at six o'clock?"
The steps were a bit of a challenge but Brooker knew it would help to limber up his body. He slipped the key into room 12 and dropped the papers on the table. All the while, as he slipped out of his jacket and placed his bag on the bed, his eyes never wavered from the folder.
Eventually, he had to address the elephant in the room. Marshal Dillon had done his duty and gathered a copy of witness statements along with his own report of the crime. Brooker reached into his inside pocket to retrieve his glasses. With a sigh of resignation, he pulled the Victorian chair from the table and took a seat. The information splayed so innocently on the walnut table would decide if Nina Sharkey was going to have to go to trial.
()()()()()
Kitty appeared mesmerized by the Seth Thomas clock suspended on the front wall of the Prairie Rose. Brilliant blue eyes followed the brass pendulum as it methodically swung back and forth. The cluster of tiny creases gathered in the center of her forehead underscored her tentative smile. "Matt, I'm embarrassed to see him again."
"What?"
There was a nervous twitch around the edges of her mouth. "Things were so crazy last time he was here. For heaven's sake, you had me locked up and I was behaving like a shrew. I'm afraid he'll think different of me." Her fears, whether they be real or imaginary, were sincere. "Will he see me as just an empty headed female?"
For a moment, Matt stared at his wife in stunned disbelief. Astonishment soon gave way to a smile which led to laughter. "Where do you get these ideas? Hiram Brooker thinks you are an intelligent, strong willed, extremely beautiful woman." With a suggestive grin and a subtle wink he added. "Emphasis on beautiful."
"Oh Matt don't be silly." Kitty shook her head in a dismissive gesture.
The marshal leaned closer, his demeanor challenging. "I'll bet you that before he even takes his seat, he will remark on your beauty and say something to the effect that he's glad you're feeling better."
Eyeing him with amusement, Kitty opted to play along. "And just what do you want to bet on this ridiculous wager?"
Matt leaned closer and whispered in her ear. He pulled back slowly, enjoying the slow burning blush creeping up her cheeks. "Well?"
"You are…incorrigible. You're-"
"Afraid?" Matt cut in. His deep seductive voice played perfectly with his shameless smile.
Her astonishment did a slow, graceful slide into a deliciously wicked mien. "What happens if I win the bet?"
He leaned closer, dropping his voice to still a deeper pitch. "Then we'll do it twice."
The table in the front window was suddenly filled with laughter.
()()()()()
Tia greeted the distinguished man and led him back through a maze of tables to the coveted booth. He was pleased to see Matt and Kitty were on much better terms than on his last visit. The marshal stood, respectfully, accepting the handshake of a friend and mentor.
The Judge took the hand of the beautiful redhead. Although the physical resemblance was slight, Kitty Dillon always evoked those nostalgic memories of his beloved Emma Grace. Brooker knew from forty-four years of experience that brunettes could be just as feisty as redheads.
"Kitty, you are as beautiful as ever." He paused to admire the lady. "I will admit, you had me worried young lady."
Kitty smiled, her brilliant blue eyes riveted to the elderly man. She couldn't block out the sound of Matt clearing his throat signaling his victory but she absolutely refused to look at him. Visualizing that smug grin was bad enough.
====()()()()====
Judge Brooker knew the evening was not going to end on a happy note, but he selfishly wanted to prolong the inevitable. The food was delicious and the service impeccable but it was the conversation that satisfied his hungry soul. Since the death of his wife, Brooker had found solace in those long rides as a circuit judge. But sometimes, times like tonight, Hiram Brooker needed the companionship of the only two people that felt like family.
He could still remember his first meeting with the reticent cowboy. Matt's first duty as a US Marshal had been to deliver a prisoner to Hays before heading into Dodge City. In his red shirt and suede vest, Matt Dillon stood a head taller than any man in the room. Brooker caught a glimpse of the silver badge and wondered if this young man would be just another sacrifice to the Gomorrah of the Plains.
The courtroom was packed with spectators, all wanting to catch a glimpse of Byrd Morgan, head of the most notorious gang in that part of the country. The surly bandit was not at all pleased to have been out gunned by a novice lawman.
Because of the packed room, it was easy for two of Morgan's gang to slip in the back door of the courtroom. Brooker was entering the room through the side door when he was grabbed from behind. A terrified crowd split apart, either racing toward the back or taking cover on the ground leaving one young lawman to stand alone. Hiram Brooker had no doubt that his life had been spared that day because of the future marshal of Dodge City. As much as the Judge relished old memories, he let them drift away in order to enjoy the current conversation.
Brooker chuckled as he watched the legendary marshal sneak a piece of roast from his wife's plate. Kitty Russell was the only woman that could have ever understood the man behind the badge. How many nights had he expressed his concerns to Emma Grace that the lovely redhead was not going to wait forever for the stubborn lawman. She would listen quietly and then when he was finished take his face in her small hands and say, "If she loves him half as much as I do you Hiram, she will wait."
Brooker leaned back to give Nettie room to refill his cup while he retrieved a cigar from his inside pocket. He had avoided the bad news as long as possible. "I want to thank you both for allowing me this lovely evening and I know how anxious you are to hear my decision."
Matt reached over taking Kitty's hand. "I think we just heard it."
"Kitty I am so sorry." It broke the Judge's heart to see the disappointment in those brilliant blue eyes. "Of course I'm not saying Mrs. Sharkey is guilty but there is definitely enough circumstantial evidence for an inquest."
It was obvious how much it bothered him to deliver the bad news. Kitty's tone was one of compassion not anger. She withdrew her hand from Matt and offered it to her old friend. "Thank you for being honest with us. I know this was difficult for you."
"Thank you, dear. I appreciate that." He gave her hand a squeeze. "Does she have an attorney?"
Matt nodded. "Thad Greenwood has been getting prepared in case it goes to trial. I believe you met him when he was my deputy."
"Oh yes I remember. The young man who was going to take your place." The Judge paused, casting an amusing glance at the lady. "When you so foolishly contemplated your retirement." Brooker pushed his chair from the table, stretching his stiff joints into a standing position. It's been a long day and my body is demanding some rest after that long stagecoach ride."
()()()()()()
The glow from the old gas street light rained down like fine mist on the road below. Linney pulled back into the darkness, hugging the cool brick wall of Bodkin's Bank. He felt secure tucked away in the shadows where he could keep watch on the Prairie Rose. The bright lights of the restaurant illuminated his prey seated directly inside the front window.
Linney had been snooping around all day, following the movements of Judge Brooker. What the cowboy lacked in intelligence he made up for with patience. Hours of surveillance had revealed the fact that the Judge had secluded himself in Room 12 with all the information regarding Nina Sharkey. He was smart enough to know that Brooker would reveal his findings to the Dillons.
Linney had secured his hiding spot as soon as he realized the Judge was heading over to the Prairie Rose. The marshal and his wife had already been seated and the cowboy watched them with as much envy as curiosity.
This was not the man with the badge that Linney had come to know and fear. The steely gaze was replaced by a gentle smile. He whispered to the lady and they laughed together. Never having had much luck with the ladies, it intrigued him to watch the Dillons. He was almost disappointed when Brooker arrived until he remembered his purpose here tonight.
Finally, it appeared as though the supper was coming to an end. When smiles were replaced by looks of disappointment, Linney knew the Judge had been the bearer of bad news. A surge of relief rushed through his body like the waters bursting through the flood gates.
()()()()()
Linney watched the Judge part company with his supper companions and begin the short walk to the Dodge House. Once the marshal helped his wife into the wagon and they headed back toward the Lady K, the cowboy felt safe to step out of the darkness. Tension took on the shape of laughter as he walked toward the Long Branch. He deserved a drink. Maybe a whole bunch of drinks.