end the turmoil raging inside her. A moment ago, her hopes heightened. Now she questioned it all again.
“Oh Morgan, when the gunfire is over and the smoke clears, where will you and I be?”
“Together.”
His firm words nearly shook her. She had to trust. That caused her to shudder, too. The ways of men . . .
“Will you go with me to California?” Morgan said.
“San Quentin? What’s going to stop the guards from arresting me? Or one of the prisoners from recognizing me. I’d—” She stopped her sentence in midair. I have to go. Old Leroy hates Morgan.
“I’m sorry. That’s selfish of me.”
“No. Leroy won’t talk to you without me. I’ll make sure I look like a lady and wear a bonnet that shields some of my face.”
“Honey, you always look like a lady.” He sighed heavily. “This is too dangerous. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
She laughed. “You were being smart. Walking down the streets of Kahlerville is dangerous for me.” The idea of walking into San Quentin was madness, but she didn’t have a choice. Morgan needed Leroy’s testimony, and she’d do whatever was needed to get it. “I’ll have to find someone to tend to Sarah. She’s so fragile, and I hate leaving her.”
“We’ll talk to the reverend.”
“And we need a proper escort.”
This time Morgan laughed. “We rode down a mountain in the dead of night without the proprieties of society. As well as I can remember, we had someone chasing us.”
“This is different.” She punctuated her words with a nod. “When the word finally gets out about you and me—and it will—it’ll be bad enough that you’re keeping company with an outlaw. We don’t want the town gossiping about anything else, especially if a federal marshal starts asking questions.” She gave him her best smile. “Do you suppose Jocelyn would take the trip?”
He studied her for several moments with a grim look she didn’t quite understand. “I’ll see what I can do.”
*****
A week and a half later, Casey and Morgan followed a prison guard down a damp, dark corridor to the visitation room, where they were instructed to wait for Leroy. She didn’t feel like talking. Too much rested on the convict’s cooperation. The mere thought that she might not walk out of there or that she might end up in a prison like this one brought the familiar churning in her stomach. Her breakfast threatened to come back up, and her head began to pound. She smoothed her dress and adjusted her bonnet. Repeatedly she deliberated over Leroy’s loyalty to Jenkins and his hatred for Morgan. What had the past few years behind bars done to him?
“We’ve traveled to San Quentin for a reason,” Morgan said. “And we won’t go home without what we need. A statement from Leroy Wilson adds that much more to your defense.”
The clang of keys beating against the metal door rang like a bad omen. The guard unlocked the area separating the prisoners from the visitors.
I hope I never hear the same sound against a door for me. Oh Lord, is it wrong to ask Your help? I understand I should have left Jenkins when Tim and I first joined up. I understand a whole lot of things now. Sometimes my life is so horrible that I wonder if I can ever be respectable. She shook her head. She had God right beside her, and she had Morgan.
A sideways glance revealed his confidence. A tousle of amber-colored hair fell across his forehead, and he brushed it back. She took a moment to appreciate his calm and handsome face and the square chin that gave him a determined look. His eyes were what she treasured most—the color, the brilliance. She loved this man. If only she could rid her memory of what men had done to her in the past. She loved him in her heart, but her heart and body were frozen, unable to respond to his love.
A much-aged Leroy and a guard entered the small area. The old outlaw looked tired and more hardened than Casey remembered. Line upon line dug in around his face as though his deeds had branded him. From his sunken jawline, she gathered he must have lost the rest of his teeth. Four years hadn’t affected his memory, because his small beady eyes immediately reflected a strong dislike for the lawyer who had led his prosecution and proved instrumental in his sentence at San Quentin.