The Ballad of Hattie Taylor Read online

  “You did teach me quite a bit,” Jake agreed and threw in a smile just to irritate the older man. “So, act like an attorney for a moment and try to stay on track. Let me paraphrase what I’ve gleaned so far from your oath-sworn testimony. Either somehow, out of the blue, virgin Hattie threw herself at you. Or”—his voice dropped to a glacial level—“you raped my wife.”

  “Oh hell, man,” Roger snapped. “There is no such thing as rape! I am a man of position, for God’s sake; I merely exercised my right to teach Hattie her rightful place.”

  Jake turned toward the jury box, every muscle in his body desperate to clench like iron beneath the potency of his rage. Forcing easiness into his posture, his expression, his voice—hell, into the very tempo of his breathing—he said, “So what you’re saying, Mr. Lord, is that no woman, let alone Opal Jeffries, who, while in your home, should have had a reasonable expectation she was in a protected environment, is safe around you? Because the rules of decent behavior don’t apply to you, due to your superior personage?”

  “I object, Your Honor,” Roger’s attorney said, even as Roger gave a sharp nod of self-satisfaction and replied, “Yes, I am that.”

  Jake knew the defendant was responding to the second question. It didn’t hurt Opal’s case, however, that it was an admission of guilt to both Jake’s questions. The men of the jury sure as hell looked repulsed. Before the judge could sustain the objection, which Jake didn’t doubt for an instant the town justice would do, he continued smoothly, “I withdraw the questions, Your Honor, and have nothing further for the accused at this time.” He returned to his seat.

  Roger was dismissed, but when the defense attorney declined to redirect, Jake once again rose to his feet. “Your Honor, I would like to call a new witness for the prosecution.”

  “This is highly irregular, Mr. Murdock,” the judge replied severely. “You have already rested your case.”

  “I did, Your Honor, but I never dreamed the defendant would call my wife’s virtue into question. He opened up this line of questioning when he viciously attacked my wife’s good name. A witness has voluntarily stepped forward, and I feel it imperative to address the accusation. My wife is not on trial, but Roger Lord placed her reputation at stake.”

  “Very well. Call your witness.”

  “The state calls Miss Maria Montgomery.”

  Nell and Augusta exchanged puzzled glances, but while Hattie gave their hands a brief, comforting press, she merely whispered, “Wait,” and sat serenely composed between them.

  “Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

  “I do.”

  “State your full name and occupation.”

  “Maria Iris Montgomery. I am a chambermaid at the Buchannan Hotel.”

  “Be seated.”

  Jake stepped forward. “Miss Montgomery, would you tell the jurors why you stepped forward and asked to testify?”

  “I was . . .” Her voice faltered and she cleared her throat. “I was present in the courtroom when Mr. Lord testified earlier that he had taken Mrs. Murdock’s . . . um . . . virginity.” She whispered the word, her face pink with embarrassment. “The first time he said it, I mean. When she fainted.”

  “As were a lot of people, Miss Montgomery. What made you search me out?”

  “Well, sir, I knew it was a lie and it hardly seemed right not to say so when that man deliberately blackened her good name.”

  The gallery murmured, but Roger Lord’s voice was strident with outrage as he surged to his feet. “What?!”

  “Sit down, sir,” the judge commanded, “and let there be no further outbursts.” At his lawyer’s insistent urging, Roger sat.

  “How could you possibly know the state of my wife’s virtue, Miss Montgomery? You’re not a doctor.”

  “No, sir, I’m a chambermaid. It was me who stripped the sheets from the bed after your wedding night at the hotel. And they was bloodied.”

  “That’s a lie!” Roger was once again on his feet, his face apoplectic.

  “It is not!” Maria responded indignantly. She turned to the judge, her wholesome face shining with conviction. “There were several spots of blood right in the middle of the sheet, Your Honor. God is my witness. And I did make mention of it at the time to three of the other girls what work at the hotel. Just ask ’em if I din’t.”

  The judge’s gavel hit the bench. “Mr. Lord, sit down! Counselor, I advise you to warn your client about contempt of court.”

  “Miss Montgomery,” Jake asked, “why would you mention such a thing to your coworkers?”

  She blushed. “Well, sir, we’d heard all sorts of stories about Hattie Taylor. One of the girls said she knew for a fact she was a wild one, what with her red hair and bein’ friends with Moses Marks and all. But one of the other girls said her younger brother was in Miss Taylor’s class and that she din’t believe fair half the stories she’d heard. So, we were all curious-like.”

  God bless your curiosity, Jake thought. Aloud, he merely said, “No further questions.”

  “Miss Montgomery.” Arthur Cleveland stood. “How do you know Mr. Murdock didn’t simply cut himself shaving?”

  “Well, sir, it woulda been an odd place to shave, wouldn’t it? There weren’t no blood anywhere else in the suite, sir. If a man cut himself, seems there woulda been bloodied towels in the bath or some such. At least that’s been my experience in the past. And he woulda had to cut a fair chunk out of his face for that much blood to travel all the way to the bed.”

  “What did Mr. Murdock offer you to testify?”

  “Nothing, sir. He didn’t even wanna talk to me. He was in that little room over there”—she pointed to the antechamber—“with his wife. I insisted.”

  “You’re quite altruistic, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t know what that means, sir.”

  “It means you have a high regard for the welfare of others.”

  “Well, sir, I don’t know about that. I am a female. I wouldn’t half like it if some man told a lie about me and just like that ruined my reputation. It don’t seem fair that untrue words can carry so much power.”

  Arthur gave up. “No further questions.”

  “What do you mean no further questions?” Lord demanded. “Make her admit she’s lying.”

  “How would you propose I do that?” Arthur asked him in a low voice, keeping his hand on his client’s shoulder to hold him in his chair. “She seems pretty damned convinced she’s telling the truth. The more questions I put to her, the deeper she’s digging your grave.”

  “Nonsense. No one is going to take the word of a menial servant over mine!”

  “Then you have nothing to worry about, do you?” God, Arthur was fed up with this man.

  Miss Montgomery was dismissed, closing arguments were given, and the jurors retired to deliberate. It grew late, and stomachs rumbled reminders of a dinner hour come and gone. Yet, no one left. People milled about on the courthouse steps, men taking the opportunity to smoke, women taking the air, and everyone discreetly stretching out kinked muscles. Hushed conversations debated the outcome, and to Hattie’s satisfaction, the few she overheard appeared to find Roger’s innocence highly suspect.

  Miss Eunice Peabody sailed over, halting with a creak of her formidable corsetry in front of Hattie. “I want you to know I did not believe Mr. Lord’s lies about you for one moment,” she said in her piercing whisper.

  “Why, thank you, Miss Eunice.” Hattie took her declaration with a grain of salt, yet nevertheless replied with a genuine smile. “It’s most satisfying to find myself championed.”

  Aurelia Donaldson also approached. She reached out to pat Hattie’s hand. “I, too, found his display disgraceful. Young Miss Montgomery was quite correct when she said ’tis most unfair that untrue words have the power to destroy a wo
man’s good name. The very idea!”

  She peered fiercely through her lorgnette at the people nearby, as though daring anyone to disagree with her. Then she patted Hattie’s hand again. “You’re a good girl, Hattie Murdock. The people of Mattawa know quality.”

  “Your assurance is indeed gratifying,” Hattie replied. “But I’d like to think the people of Mattawa would still view me as a good girl even if Roger Lord’s testimony had been true.”

  Aurelia blinked, slightly affronted to have her words of praise found lacking. Around her were numerous indrawn breaths and incredulous expressions.

  Hattie felt her ire rise. She looked around at the varying degrees of shock displayed on nearby faces. “Did none of you listen to what was said in there?” she questioned hotly. “My God, the real injustice is that a perfectly decent woman can be beaten and brutalized the way Opal was and then find herself ostracized on top of it! To be ruined for being unable to protect oneself seems to me to be the height of inequity.”

  She could tell the concept was not well met and she shook her head sadly, turning back to her family and friends. Perhaps, in a future world, the day would come when—

  “You are absolutely right.”

  Hattie turned back slowly. Aurelia Donaldson’s gaze was razor-sharp behind her ever-present lorgnette.

  “Mrs. Donaldson!” Eunice Peabody exclaimed in shock. “How can you agree to any such thing? And after she insulted you!”

  “She did not insult me, Eunice, she simply did not tiptoe around my feelings when she spoke her mind. As I am not accustomed to that, it took me a moment to adjust, or I should have agreed sooner.”

  “But that’s heresy!”

  “Horsefeathers,” Aurelia said coolly as she gazed at the scandalized spinster. “Perhaps instead of drawing our skirts aside in horror from the bloodied victims of such savagery, we should think like the good Christian women we are. Perhaps we should display our empathy and say, ‘There but for the grace of God go I.’”

  Eunice’s face was a mottled red as she regarded the elderly woman. She could not believe her ears and felt she really should protest. Yet, how could she? Aurelia Donaldson was the dowager queen of Mattawa society and one must not offend her. But imagine such a thing! Empathy indeed. Decent women would always draw aside from their sisters who had fallen. That was, after all, what made them decent women. Corset creaking, Eunice turned without a word and stalked away.

  Aurelia turned back to Hattie and arched a brow. “Too radical for her, I daresay.”

  Hattie smiled with real affection. “Well, I thought it was a grand speech.”

  “I am an old woman, my dear,” Aurelia replied. “I’m allowed to speak my mind.”

  Hattie knew she was also one of the richest women in town, so could do so without fear of retribution. To allude to such, however, would be ungracious and likely undeserved. She rather thought Aurelia Donaldson would have aired her views regardless of the consequence.

  “I apologize if I was rude to you,” Hattie said. “I just feel quite strongly—”

  “The jury is in!”

  Hattie froze. This was it. The excited man who had appeared briefly around the door to make the announcement disappeared and the courthouse steps rapidly emptied. And still Hattie didn’t move.

  “C’mon, Big-eyes. Let’s go find out how we did.”

  She looked up at Jake. “I’m almost afraid to,” she confessed. “What if they find him innocent?”

  “Then we’ll find a way to live with it.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. “Either way,” he continued as he ushered her inside, “Lord’s done in this town. But we have a good, strong case, and he was accommodatingly arrogant. Cross your fingers for a just verdict.”

  He halted as they reached the door to the courtroom. A swift glance revealed the corridor was empty. “I was real proud of what you said out there today,” he told her, jerking his chin at the steps. “You are one helluva woman, Hattie Witherspoon Taylor Murdock.” His hand caressed her stomach. “One hell of a woman.”

  Her nerves disappeared. Regardless of the outcome, she had this man. And he was more than most people could ever imagine. “I love you, Jacob Murdock,” she whispered. She rose to give him a swift kiss on the lips. “And I think you’re one helluva man, as well.”

  “Why, Hattie Murdock,” he whispered with a grin. “If Mirabel Malone hears you talking that way, she’s gonna wash your mouth out with soap.” Hattie shuddered, to Jake’s amusement. “Not an experience you forget, is it?” He opened the courtroom door and they went in.

  Moments later, the judge entered. Opal, standing next to Jake at the plaintiff’s table, was pale as a ghost, her slender frame trembling. Giving her hand a squeeze of encouragement, Jake hoped to hell his best turned out to be good enough.

  Everyone took their seats and the judge turned to the jury. “Have you reached a verdict?”

  The foreman stood. “We have, Your Honor.”

  “Mr. Lord,” the judge said, “please stand.” Roger did so with haughty unconcern. The judge turned to the jurors. “Regarding the charge of rape against Opal Jeffries by Roger Lord, what say you?”

  “We find the defendant—” Clearing his throat, the foreman looked directly at Roger, who gazed back at him confidently. “Guilty.”

  Murmurs rose. Roger Lord promptly launched into an incredulous tirade. In the midst of it, he caught Jake’s eye and yelled, “She called your name, Murdock.” His laugh was downright demented. “Yeah, she called your name, but it didn’t do her a damn bit of good because I held her down and took what I wanted just the same.”

  Hattie fought to keep all expression from her face except the shocked incredulity that would be deemed appropriate. Had she called for Jake that night? Or was Lord just making it up? She couldn’t remember.

  And in all honesty? It didn’t matter. In the end, she’d won. “That man is severely insane,” she said and laughed when she was exuberantly squeezed by Nell and Aurora as she sat glued to her chair between them. The cacophony of sound barely registered—except when someone said thank God it was over, so that sweet young woman could hopefully move forward and find some peace. The words struck clear to the heart of the matter. It truly was finally over. Shooing her aunt and Nell away, she simply sat for a moment.

  Sweet vindication sang in her veins like the headiest of wines. She hadn’t expected this lightness of heart. Until this moment, she didn’t even realize she hadn’t fully felt that since the night Lord robbed her of the right to bestow her virtue on the man she chose.

  She looked around. Opal clung to Jake’s hand, simultaneously crying and laughing; Aunt Augusta, Nell, and Mirabel smiled and hugged each other; people all around her chatted and pressed flesh like politicians at a Fourth of July picnic as they congratulated themselves on knowing Roger Lord was guilty as sin early in the trial.

  Jake’s eyes met hers over Opal’s head and she flashed him a radiant smile. Rising to her feet, she accepted and returned smiles and pecks on the cheek as she edged her way to the aisle. Then she pushed through the gate and flung herself into her husband’s arms. She smiled at Opal as she stepped back, one of Jake’s arms still loosely draped around her shoulders. “Congratulations to you both,” she said. “You did it.”

  “No.” Opal returned her smile tremulously. Reaching out, she grasped Hattie’s hand, her other hand gripping Jake’s to form a loose circle. “We did it.”

  48

  Mattawa train station

  TUESDAY, JULY 20, 1909

  The train was late, but the small group awaiting its arrival didn’t mind. “I think you’ll enjoy working for the Michaels,” Jake told Opal. “They’re a fine family.”

  “I look forward to doing something to earn my keep again.”

  “You’ve helped me plenty, young lady,” Mirabel informed h
er starchily. “So, don’t go pretending you’ve been lazing about like a lady of the manor.” She thrust a small covered basket into the girl’s hands. “Here,” she said gruffly. “I made you a little something to tide you over. No sense throwing away good money in the dining car when we have a full pantry to choose from.”

  “And probably a hundred times better than anything I could get on the train, too,” Opal murmured, peeking into the generously packed basket. Then she looked back at Mirabel. “Thank you,” Opal said softly. “For everything.”

  Hattie watched as one by one, Augusta, Nell, Moses, and Doc stepped forward to wish Opal a good journey and bid the young woman farewell. Finally, just as the train roared around the bend, Hattie drew her aside.

  “I have something for you, which you probably won’t appreciate at the moment,” she said, pressing a small box into Opal’s hand. “I hope, however, someday you’ll be glad of it.”

  Opal looked from Hattie’s face to the small box in her hand. Slowly, she opened it.

  Nestled within, on a small bed of velvet, was a plain gold wedding band. Puzzled, Opal returned her gaze to Hattie’s smiling face.

  “Jake told the Michaels you’re widowed,” Hattie explained. “He said you’d been married a very short time before your husband died in an automobile accident.” She gripped Opal’s hand. “Please wear it. I know our viewpoints differ on this matter, but it is my dearest wish you someday fall in love with a deserving young man. If that happens, I would truly hate to see it tarnished by the need to explain your lack of virginity.”

  Opal doubted such a day would ever arrive, but she’d grown to love and admire Hattie during their brief acquaintance and couldn’t deny she appreciated the sentiment behind the gift. Opal slid the ring onto the appropriate finger. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “You are the most courageous woman I’ve ever met,” Hattie said softly in Opal’s ear as they hugged. “I wish you all the luck and happiness in the world.”