Part 12 (1/2)

But along with the euphoria came disgust that she could be so easily flattered, that her objections to the way Madison had treated her, and what he was trying to do, could be so easily swayed by a little attention. Okay, so fighting Reed and Pike was more than a little thing, but she was still a foolish, fickle female to think that Madison would feel any different about her, or the things that really mattered.

It was fine to be upset about his being in jail. It was okay not to want him to hang when he was trying to defend her honor. But he had been fighting for a principle. Madison was big on principle. It was just people he had trouble with.

By the time she reached the jail, she didn't feel quite so jaunty. Deputy Tom Carson was sitting outside.

”I hear you have Madison Randolph locked up for killing Pike,” she said.

”He's not dead yet,” Tom said. ”We're keeping him till we find out if he's going to make it.” ”But Mr. Randolph wasn't wearing a gun. Pike was shot with his own gun.”

”Folks don't agree on what happened,” Tom said. ”Some say Randolph took Pike's gun and shot him in cold blood.”

”But why would he do that? He doesn't even know Pike.”

”Beats me, but then I don't try to understand these Texans.”

Fern started to tell him Madison came from Boston, not Texas, but decided she was wasting her time. ”Where is he?”

”Inside, but you can't see him.”

”Try and stop me,” Fern said as she strode past.

Chapter Nine.

''Now see here, Fern, it ain't fair you being a man most of the time and a girl when it suits you,” Tom said, following her.

”I'd be a man all the time if I had the choice.” She shoved him back outside and closed the door.

She felt a little nervous about facing Madison, but being back in her pants and vest gave her more confidence. She had felt terribly vulnerable in Rose's nightgown, especially knowing that Madison had undressed her. She wondered how much of her he had touched. Better she didn't know. Just thinking about it made her hot all over. No man had touched her since that terrible night eight years ago.

He was in the first cell she came to. He jumped to his feet when he saw her, stopping her in her tracks with his coldly furious gaze.

”Have you come to gloat, or are you here to make sure I hang next to Hen?” The vehemence of his words shocked Fern. It didn't surprise her that he was embarra.s.sed for her to see him in jail, but it never occurred to her that he would think she wanted to see him hang. That hurt almost as much as the pain in her chest.

After what you've said about his brother, how would he know that?

Didn't he know she only felt that way because she wanted to see Troy's killer punished? She didn't dislike the Randolphs, and she didn't dislike him, at least not any more. It was his reason for being in Abilene that she hated.

”I was worried. I knew you couldn't kill Pike.” She held up the basket. ”I brought you some breakfast.”

”You ought to be a happy woman today,” Madison said, ignoring the proffered food. ”Two Randolph brothers in jail and not likely to get out soon. Now if you can just get George to do something foolishbut that won't be easy because George is not a foolish manyou can have all three of us locked away. But if you plan to hang us, you're going to need a lot of ropes. There are more Randolphs where we came from.”

”They're not going to hang you,” Fern said. ”Amos said it wasn't your fault.”

Madison paced his cell like a caged animal, his anger curbed and dangerous. ”This is a Randolph you're talking about, a dude, a fancy Eastern lawyer trying to circ.u.mvent justice, a Boston sn.o.b who looks down his nose at anybody not born and bred in the original thirteen. You know it's my fault.”

”Madison, do you think it's fair to” Hen interrupted.

”I'm just repeating the things she said to me,” Madison said, ”with an occasional contribution from you and George. I don't want her to think I'm in very good standing with anybody.”

”Amos told me everything that happened,” Fern said.

”And you believed him? I'm disappointed.”

”I know I haven't been very nice to you, but I never thought anybody would blame you for what happened to me. I certainly never expected Reed to imply that . . . to say . . . I . . .”

Fern was so upset she could hardly keep her voice under control.

”You expect me to believe that fight wasn't your idea, that two people who'd never seen me before just walked up and picked a fight?”

”You can't really believe I'd set somebody on you.”

”Why not? It would have been a convenient way to get rid of me, settle Hen's hash, and make sure George never brought any more cows to Abilene. A Randolph-free town. I thought that's what you wanted.”

He wasn't listening to a word she said. He was convinced she had paid Reed and Pike to attack him, and nothing she said seemed able to punch through his anger.

”You're twisting what I said.”

”Tell me what you said.”

What had she said? A lot of things she regretted now.

”I said a lot of things I shouldn't have,” Fern shot back, ”but I'd never sink low enough to ask somebody else to drive you out of town. I'd do that myself.”

Madison hooked her with his fiery gaze. ”After what has happened to me in the last two days, there is nothing on G.o.d's green earth that's going to get me out of this town until I've finished what I came to do. I don't know what you did or didn't do. I don't care what you meant or didn't mean. I didn't shoot Pike Carroll, and Hen didn't kill your cousin. And before I'm done, every person in this town is going to know it.”

”I didn't”

”Now you'd better get back to Mrs. Abbott's. I've got some sleep to catch up on. After your fall yesterday, you've got no business being out of bed. You must be hurting like h.e.l.l.”

She looked at the food she had brought and felt like an idiot. He wouldn't eat it. He'd probably think she had poisoned it.

She was glad that anger helped numb the pain. She didn't want him to know what it cost her to come see him; she wouldn't give him the pleasure of feeling sorry for her. She wanted to be able to hate him with a clear conscience.

I don't know why I bothered to come,” Fern said. ”You are incapable of understanding human kindness.”

”I don't think I'm incapable,” Madison said, appearing to give the idea serious thought, ”but after being met at the train with verbal pitchforks, it's a little difficult to believe you've developed a kindly interest in my welfare.”

”You haven't changed a bit,” Fern replied.

”Of course I haven't. I'm the same person who left Boston to defend his brother, who took you to Rose when you refused to see a doctor, and who tried to keep himself from being murdered by your henchmen. It's your perception of me that keeps changing.”

”That was my mistake,” Fern declared, throwing the food down on a table outside his cell. ”You're everything I thought from the very beginning.” She spun on her heel and headed toward the door.

”I'm so glad to hear that,” Madison called after her. ”I hate to disappoint people.”

The slamming door shook the frame building.