Chapter 12 – Do You See Me?

I didn't try to talk Doralice out of going to court; if it was that important to her I wasn't about to interfere. I was still worried about her, but all I was willing to do was watch and wait.

Court day was overcast and gray, a perfect day for the mood everyone was in. Doralice had fallen asleep in my arms somewhere around five in the morning; I lay in bed and held her, wide awake. It had been a long time since I'd spent the night unable to sleep. You'd be surprised what an armful of beautiful woman does to ease your mind. Not this night, though, so I lay there and listened to her breathing. It was a comforting sound, and I was sorry when I finally had to move, and it woke her.

"Is it time?" she murmured softly.

"No, darlin', not yet. Go back to sleep." She rolled away from me then, and a few minutes later I eased myself out of bed and went to the kitchen to make coffee. When it was done I poured a cup and walked out to the front porch, where I drank my coffee and smoked a cigar while watching the sun try and fail to come up.

Funny the things you think of when you're trying to think of nothing. The first time I skipped a stone across the river. How odd it was to watch Miss Melody grow fat, as her kittens and their kittens played around her in the sun. What it was like to finally know what you wanted out of life, and to find you're not too old to go after it.

When I walked back in the house, Doralice was pouring herself some coffee. "Refill?" she asked and held the pot out for me.

"Yes, ma'am," I replied. "Why aren't you still asleep?"

"Why aren't you?"

I chuckled a little. "I never was."

"How long was I . . . ?"

"Couple hours, maybe. Doralice . . . "

"Yes, lover?"

She hadn't called me that in quite a while. "You don't have to go to court today."

There was silence for a minute. "I know that."

"But you still want to?"

"Yes."

I nodded. There was nothin' else for me to say. "I'm gonna go . . . shave."

"Do you want breakfast before we go?"

"No. Coffee's good."

We were ready to leave for court much too early, and we left the house and walked down to Maude's. There were lights on inside, and I knew we weren't the only ones who couldn't sleep. Doralice used her keys, and we were soon sittin' at a table with Maude, drinking more coffee. "Cristian wanted to go over everything one more time, so he'll meet us in court at nine o'clock."

"Are you nervous?" My lady asked her mother.

"No, I'm angry. I want to see his face when he sees us for the first time. I want him to know that he's finally been caught after all these years, and it was us that caught him. I want . . . I just want it to be time to go."

I had to ask. "Do you still want to kill him?"

Maude didn't hesitate; she shook her head. "Not anymore. I just wanna see the look in his eyes when he knows he's lost."

There was one more that needed to answer the same question. "Do you?"

And my beautiful woman, the woman I intended to ask to marry me when this had all calmed down, answered in a way that sent a chill up my spine. "Yes."

XXXXXXXX

The little courthouse on Main Street was virtually empty. This was no big criminal trial, after all, just a small civil suit that nobody was interested in except the people involved in it. Cristian was there to greet us a few minutes before nine, as promised, and Zebulon Eustus Alexander, Esq. was already seated in the courtroom, but there was no sign of anyone else. At exactly one minute to nine, the outer doors opened and a tall, rather elegant looking man walked in. He appeared to be at least ten years older than Maude and used a cane, walking quite slowly to the table Attorney Alexander was seated at. The man stared straight ahead and his gaze never wavered, even when he seated himself next to his attorney.

"Is that Donovan?" Cristian whispered softly to Maude.

"I . . . I . . . don't . . . know. I haven't seen him in over ten years. He's older, grayer, heavier. I just . . . "

There was no doubt in Doralice. "It's him," she hissed. "I'd know him anywhere."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

I gripped her hand tightly, and she was once again shaking. "Why doesn't he look at us?"

I wondered the same thing. Donovan, or Pike, whoever he was, refused to look anywhere but straight ahead, or sideways at his attorney. When the judge finally entered the court, Donovan's stare never wavered. It seemed like he knew we were all watching him, and he refused to give us the satisfaction of a return gaze. Either that or everything I had dug up was wrong, and Jedidiah Milford Pike really was Sam Winston.

Zebulon presented his case, and it was well-documented. According to him, Sam Winston won the property from Lester O'Day, but did nothing with it for years. He then lost the same piece of land the same way to Billy Flynn.

Next, the bill of sale between Flynn and Maude was presented, with the acknowledgment by Cristian that this was, indeed, the original bill of sale. Alexander then pointed out the odd language written into the agreement, stating that each party was 'not obligated in any way to any person or persons not named in this contract.' Meaning, in essence, that a marriage of any sort would invalidate the contract.

Pike's attorney then presented evidence that Maude had been married to one Luther Donovan, and that Donovan was killed in a gunfight with Sam Winston prior to her agreement with Flynn. That's when Attorney Alexander presented something new to the court, something that was just beginning to gain popularity on the East Coast – a Death Certificate. It attested that Donovan was not killed until after the property was sold to Maude, who was thus a married woman. The transaction was invalidated, and the bill of sale fraudulent.

Then it was Cristian's turn. I'd managed to get certified court documents from both the United States Federal Marshals Office and the Dodge City Herald that proved the Death Certificate for Luther Donovan was forged. The date of the gunfight and subsequent death of Luther Donovan preceded the sale of the property to Maude Donovan, thus making her purchase legal.

The court recessed for lunch while the judge verified the validity of the court certified documents. Pike and his attorney hurried from the courthouse, to plan a new strategy, no doubt, because even I could see that they were gonna need one. If the judge in Little Bend was satisfied with the answers he got from Denver about the certified documents, Maude would win the day with no further problems. If he wasn't, then all we had to do was prove it was Sam Winston that died in the shootout, and that Jedidiah Milford Pike was actually Luther Donovan, who had no standing in this case.

Somehow Pike and his attorney managed to escape the court house without making eye contact with anyone on our side of the room. Doralice was incensed, and Maude didn't seem much happier. Cristian took Maude out the side door and headed towards the saloon; Doralice and me stayed right where we were. "Do you want some lunch?" I asked her, even though I was certain of the answer.

She shook her head and stared at me. "I despise him." The look of hatred that had shown in her eyes the day before could now be heard in her voice. "He can't even look at us, and he's my father."

"How can you be so sure it's really him, Doralice?" I wasn't tryin' to be difficult, I just didn't understand. She was seven years old the last time she saw him, and he had to look completely different.

"I just feel it, Bart. I know it's Luther."

"It's not gonna do any good to make yourself sick over it."

"I'm alright. I'll be fine as soon as I know I never have to look at him again."

Something in the way she said it put my whole body on edge. What was I afraid she had in mind?