As far as Kathryn could tell, Cole Jordan was unperturbed by Mr. Stewart's questions. But then she knew how people who owned everything reacted to the law. People like the Jordans made the laws; they didn't obey them.
"I need someone who can control him first before she can teach him anything," Cole said smoothly.
"Mr. Jordan," John Stewart said, "tell me, how tall are you? Over six. feet?"
"An inch or two," Cole said modestly.
"I see," Mr. Stewart said, walking away from where Cole was seated, all six feet two of him sprawled out, lounging in the chair as though he hadn't a care in the world. "Six feet two and a couple of hundred pounds, right?"
Cole gave a one-sided smile. "Better ask some of the ladies. They might know something about the size of me."
His meaning was unmistakable, and the courtroom filled with feminine laughter. Cole looked up at Kathryn. She thought maybe he expected her to smile at him, but the look she gave him would have turned him to stone if he'd had a heart. He winked at her, then looked back at Mr. Stewart.
"Mr. Jordan, what I'd like to know is, if you can't control that hellion of a son of yours, how do you expect any woman to?"
There was more laughter from the court, but the judge just waited for it to subside as he leaned across his desk and looked expectantly at Cole. "You wanta answer that question, boy?" the judge said, and Kathryn was pleased to hear the hostility in his voice. She had been told in full the story of how Cole had "jilted" Judge Bascom's eldest daughter. But, to be fair, from what Kathryn had heard, most of the pursuit had been on the daughter's side, and the complaint had been that she had not been able to snare Cole Jordan into being the husband she wanted so much.
"The point of this whole thing is," Cole said evenly, "I don't think she was going to try to control him or even to teach him." He leaned a bit forward as though confiding a secret. "I think her concerns were with the father, not the son."
"Oh?" Mr. Stewart said in a stage whisper. "What makes you say such a thing?"
Slowly, as though he had all the time in the world, Cole withdrew a newspaper clipping from a Pennsylvania paper from his shirt pocket and handed it to Mr. Stewart, who took a few moments to read it.
"I see", Mr. Stewart said after a while, then held the article up toward the courtroom. "I'd like to tell the court that this here article states that Cole Jordan of Legend, Colorado, is rollin' in dough and ain't bad to look at either." When the laughter had stopped, he turned back to Cole. "Do I have that right?"
"You do," Cole said stiffly.
"So let me guess at your reasonin'," Mr. Stewart said. "You think this woman saw this article in the Philadelphia newspaper, then did everything she could to win a teaching contract from you? And she did this all for the sole purpose of tryin' to marry you?"
"In a word, yes."
With a look at Judge Bascom, Mr. Stewart said, "You seem to think a lot of women want to marry you, don't you, Mr. Stewart?"
The judge didn't bother trying to make the courtroom stop laughing at that because from the way the sentence was stated, it made his daughter seem to be one of many whom Cole Jordan had thought wanted him.
It was Mr. Stewart's booming voice that made the laughter stop. "Tell me, Mr. Jordan, how did she know what you wanted? Let me remind you of the advertisement you put in the Philadelphia paper sayin' you needed a governess. It said that you needed a mature, responsible woman. Is that correct?"
Cole gave a curt nod of assent.
"Mrs. de Longe is old enough to have a nine-year-old son and responsible enough to take care of him, so I believe she answers your request. So how did she know to send a photo of a much older woman? For all Mrs. de Longe knew, you were lookin' for a young woman." He looked at the courtroom. "For all she knew, you were a lonely cowboy lookin' for a wife."
"That's what every woman thinks a man wants, isn't it?" Cole said, but Kathryn could see by his face that he didn't get the laugh he'd expected. By now the courtroom was sitting on the edges of their seats and waiting to see where John Stewart was leading.
"Could you please tell the court what happened to make you believe Mrs. de Longe was after somethin' other than a teachin' job?"
Cole gave a one-sided grin and seemed to relax in his chair. "The first time I saw her, she threw herself into my arms. And kissed me!" He smiled at the courtroom. "Later she pretended she hadn't known who I was, that it was merely a chance meeting, but what's the likelihood of such a coincidence? No, I think she planned it all from the beginning. She may have the face of an angel, but she has the heart of a scheming, conniving little—"
Judge Bascom interrupted. "Mr. Jordan, please refrain from your comments. It is the court's job to decide what lies inside Mrs. de Longe's heart. However, I think it is safe to say that we can all agree with you that she has the face of an angel."
At that there were whoops of agreement from the men in the room.
"And that's the problem," one of Cole's attorneys yelled, coming out of his seat. "This woman is too much temptation for any man. How would it be for a man to be lusting after his son's teacher? It is our belief that the woman planned all of this with matrimony in mind. Cole Jordan is an eligible bachelor and she is a widow—if she was ever married, that is. She answered the advertisement, lied about her age, even sent a bogus photograph. Not that our client isn't flattered by this elaborate hoax in an attempt to win his very rich hand, but he's just not ready for the old ball and chain yet. He-—"
"I do not want to marry him!" Kathryn shouted, coming out of her seat. "I sent a photo of myself and no one else. I did not—"
"Are you trying to make us believe—" Cole's lawyer began, but the hoots of the audience and the banging of the judge's gavel made him stop.
When the noise began to subside, Mr. Stewart's voice rose as he made an elaborate show of helping Kathryn to sit back down. "I think I can clear up this matter, Your Honor, if you'd just let me call my next witness."
"Do it!" the judge said, letting everyone see that he was glad to get Cole off the stand.
"I call Zachary Jordan," he said, and immediately a hush fell over the courtroom.
In the turmoil of the last weeks Kathryn had forgotten all about the boy she was to have taken charge of, but today's testimony had made her curious. Twisting about in her seat, she first saw Jeremy, sitting just behind her. When his face began to turn an unbecoming color of purple, she knew that what was coming wasn't going to be pleasant.
Swaggering in an exaggerated imitation of his father, the boy who had fought with Jeremy on that first day moved to the front of the courtroom and took the witness seat. -
Kathryn grabbed Mr. Stewart's coat sleeve. "I just want the money due me," she said in a ragged whisper. "I don't want to try to teach that… that violent child. He and Jeremy would kill each other."
"Leave it to me," Mr. Stewart said confidently, then turned to the smirking young man slouching in the chair.
"You wanta tell everyone what you did," Mr. Stewart said, then waved his hand at the boy.
"I switched the letters," the boy said proudly. "Pa wanted to hire some old crow, so when I saw this lady's picture, I just switched 'em. Pete the forger helped me a bit with the letters, but I done a real good job, don't you think?"
When the laughter from the court had stopped, Mr. Stewart walked over to the boy. "You tampered with the United States mail?"
"Yes, sir, I did," the boy said proudly, looking about the courtroom as though he expected to be congratulated.
"I'm going to tan you," Cole said to his son, but loud enough for half the courtroom to hear him. "When I get you home—"
The judge brought down his gaveL "You can carry out your domestic quarrels at home, Jordan. This is a court of law. But it seems you were wrong and this young lady was telling the truth all along. And it seems that you need somebody to keep constant watch over that brat of yours. I hereby decree that you give her the job you promised her."
"No!!" came the co
mbined shouts of Kathryn, Mr. Stewart, Jeremy, and Cole.
"Your Honor," Mr. Stewart said quickly. "My client just wants the money so she can leave Legend forever. She's suffered horrible distress while she's been here and she needs to—"
"Bull!" the judge bellowed. "She's become the town celebrity. Walks around with a notebook taking down orders of what people want her to get from Cole Jordan. If you ask me, the two of them deserve each other. Of course, if your client can't handle this young scalawag, then that would invalidate the contract. Does she want to back out?"
"No, Your Honor," Mr. Stewart said. "But she don't wanta stay either."
"Then she shouldn't have come here in the first place." He banged his gavel. "That's it. She stays and teaches, or she drops the whole thing. Those are the choices. Which is it gonna be?"
Mr. Stewart looked at Kathryn with apology on his face.
"I have to take the job," she whispered.
Mr. Stewart looked back at the judge. "He pays court costs?"
"He pays for everything," the judge said with just the tiniest bit of a smile.
"Then we take the job on one condition. Mrs. de Longe wants the biggest padlock this town has for her bedroom door."
As the courtroom was laughing, Mr. Stewart turned back to Kathryn. "Real sorry about the verdict. There ain't nobody can teach that brat of Jordan's. He's got bars on the kid's bedroom window, but he still escapes."
"And drinks whiskey," Kathryn said as she blinked up at Mr. Stewart, still unable to comprehend the verdict. "I have to live with the two of them?"
"Looks like that's what the judge said," Mr. Stewart said as he shoved papers back into a leather case. Kathryn was going to say more, but by then people were shoving each other to be able to congratulate both of them. To the town's mind, Kathryn had won a case against the Jordans, something no one believed would happen.
"Now you be sure and tell him what I told you," a beefy woman pumping Kathryn's hand was saying. Her breath smelled like old sheets.
"And you help me buy my own store. A man oughta own his own place," a man said as he thumped Kathryn on the back. "You tell Jordan that—"
But Kathryn wasn't hearing anymore as she looked across the people to see Cole Jordan standing and glaring at her. His look said she may have won the battle but the war was yet to come.
"Come on, Zach," she heard him say as he cupped his hand at the back of his son's head. As they turned away, the boy winked at Kathryn.
"Oh lord," she whispered to herself. "What in the world have I got myself into?"
* * *
Chapter Three
Kathryn straightened her shoulders and tried to put some steel into her spine as she raised her hand to knock on the door of Cole Jordan's office. It had been a mere two hours since the verdict had been given, and only minutes ago, Mr. Stewart had dropped her and Jeremy off in front of the Jordan house. Now Jeremy was sitting in the hallway, their small trunks on the floor at his feet, and it was Kathryn's job to find out what Mr. Jordan had planned for them.
"Courage," she said aloud to herself, then knocked on the door. The gruffness of the "Come in" almost made her turn and run, but she took a breath and opened the door.
He was sitting behind his big desk, his head down. "Mr. Jordan," she began, but he interrupted her.
"So you won, did you?" he said, leaning back in his chair and scowling.
"I want you to know that what I did was out of necessity. I would never have resorted to a court of law if I hadn't been in desperate need."
"Desperate need," he said. "Ah yes, I know that feeling." Looking like some great prowling beast, with his brows drawn into a scowl, Cole rose and came around the desk to glare down at Kathryn.
With stiff arms and her hands made into fists, she stood her ground. She was not going to let him see how much she regretted everything that had happened.
"Mrs. de Longe, let me tell you about 'desperate need.' I own this town, and that means that everyone and everything in it is my responsibility. On top of that responsibility, I have the sole care of a hellion of a son. His mother, may she rest in peace, dumped him on my doorstep the night before she ran off with a circus performer."
At that Kathryn raised her eyebrows. A circus performer?
He was advancing on her, but Kathryn refused to retreat. "I need someone who can handle that boy. You don't know what he is like."
"I can see what you have allowed him to become," she said with more courage than she felt.
"Oh?" Cole said, one eyebrow raised. "Should I have kept him tied to me as you have that son of yours? Pardon me, Mrs. de Longe, but I do not want my son raised to be the puny, frightened little creature that your son is. I want my son to grow to be a man."
Kathryn could take anything anyone gave to her, but she couldn't take what he was saying about Jeremy. "How dare you?" she said, moving toward him and standing on tiptoe so she was closer to his level. "My son is more of a man than that ill-mannered, selfish creature you have raised. My son isn't halfway to being hanged for the criminal he is."
"Criminal?" Cole said, his face furious as he was nearly nose to nose with her.
Then suddenly, he seemed to change. As he stepped away, there was a smile on his face, a wicked little smile. "Yes, Mrs. de Longe, Zachary is on his way to becoming a criminal, which is why I needed someone who could handle him. You…" He looked her up and down with contempt. "You can only handle boys who say, Yes ma'am and No ma'am, and know which fork to use."
"I can handle anyone," she said under her breath, still seething at his remarks about Jeremy. "I can teach your son and discipline your son and—" She broke off because he was laughing at her, as though what she'd said was extremely amusing—and ridiculous.
"You?" he said, laughing. "I have a dog that outweighs you, and a prison warden couldn't handle that son of mine."
Truthfully, Kathryn agreed with him, but she couldn't back down now. "I can and I will control your—" She broke off as he picked up a check from off his desk and handed it to her. "What is this?"
"It's a bank draft for two years' salary. When I'm wrong I admit it. It was my son who was the liar, not you. I pay my debts, so there's the money I promised you in the contract"
Kathryn stood there looking at the check in her hand. It was what she wanted, what she'd gone to court to get. So why wasn't she halfway out the door by now? She looked up at him. "Who will you get to teach your son? Will you hire that woman who has worked with the criminally insane?"
"Yes," he said simply.
"Then I don't want this," she said as she put the check back onto his desk. "Your son needs a teacher, and I have been hired to be that teacher, as well as being ordered to by the court."
"That's very noble of you," Cole said. "But also very stupid. My son is not for the likes of someone like you."
"And what am I, Mr. Jordan? Since you seem to know a great deal about me, I'd like to know what it is you do know about me. Other than that you think I'm trying to trap you into marriage, that is."
At that, the corner of Cole's mouth quirked into a bit of a smile. "You're a lady," he said as he sat on the desk, his long legs stretching into the room. "And since you're in this hellhole of a town, my guess is that you're running from something or someone. People in Legend often come here to hide from something. You say you're a widow, but lady widows usually have rich relatives to take care of them. So where are your rich relatives?"
It was Kathryn's turn to smile. "You are not a good judge of character, Mr. Jordan. I am not a 'lady,' as you call it. My mother was a cook for a large estate, and my father worked in the stables until he died when I was five. When the daughter of the house proved too stupid to educate, it was decided that perhaps if she had a companion she might better learn, so I was schooled with her. But even though I was educated in the main house, I was never, ever treated as anything except the cook's daughter. As for Jeremy's father, that is none of your business. Now, would it be possible that someone could show
me where my son and I are to stay?"
"Stay?" Cole asked. "You can't stay here. And you can't possibly take on Zachary. He—"
"Double my salary says that I can and will get that young man under control, and I'll do it within a week. As long as you give me a free hand, that is."
Cole opened his mouth to speak but closed it, then he smiled in a knowing way. "You're on. One week. Double your salary." Putting out his hand, he shook hers, and the look in his eye said that this was one bet he was sure he was going to win.
For a moment Kathryn felt exhilarated that she had won, but at the same time she felt terror running through her as she remembered the way young Zachary had pulled a whiskey bottle from the arms of a woman and downed half of it. "W… where do we stay?" she asked, taking her hand from his because he had not released it. Instead, he was standing there staring at her in a way that was making Kathryn feel decidedly uncomfortable.
"Anywhere," he said, then turned his back on her as he looked at some papers on his desk. "Take whatever rooms you want. The house is mostly empty."
"All right," she said softly, then started for the door.
"Mrs. de Longe?"
She paused with her hand on the door.
"I'll be away in Denver for the next week. I usually take my son with me, but since you seem convinced that you can handle him, I'll leave him in your care."
"Yes, certainly," she said with as much courage as she could summon. How in the world was she going to control that horrid boy for a whole week? Should she ask where the whips and chains were stored?
"If you should change your mind after the first day or so, I'll leave this draft here. You can cash it at the Legend bank, and you and your son may leave at any time."
"And who will look after your son?"
"He seems to be rather good at taking care of himself," Cole said. "I've never found that he needs anyone."
"Like you, Mr. Jordan?" she said. "Perhaps he is merely echoing your sentiments, that you believe you need no one else on earth."