“It’s okay.” She looked over her shoulder at the crowd as it drew nearer still. “What choice do I really got? Run off into the hills with you?”

She had the words he said your name and your pa and everything burns ready on her tongue. Maybe then he’d understand why she was acting the way she was. After all, he’d do anything to find out answers to his father’s death; it pulled at him more than he let on. But she would not put Arbuckle in harm’s way to justify her actions. If she said something to him, anything at all, he might go after Deputy Iverson. And though she wanted Arbuckle to, wanted him to say you took them from both of us, he was no match for the Deputies. If he went up against them—she could not think of that. And so she hid her fear behind the law, her love behind her weakness. What else could she do?

The church bells on the other side of the square rang one, two, three. The crowd was but steps from Lady Mae and Arbuckle, who watched them as one would watch the thunderous sky, hopeful and afraid. Four, five. And then Lady Mae found herself holding the heavy, creaking courtroom door open. She stood there, her foot up against the bottom of the door, and studied each resident as they filtered inside. Some were solemn and others’ eyes gleaned with excitement, but none looked directly at her. They passed her as if she were invisible, and while she was long used to the treatment, shame swirled inside of her when she saw Arbuckle’s pitied brows and crease in his forehead.

“Let’s just get this over with,” she said, and motioned for Arbuckle to go in first. The bells rang six, seven, eight, and the door, heavy and creaking at the hinges, swung shut behind them.

* * *

Deputy Daniels came in from his chambers. The bottom of his long, dark robe flapped and snapped against itself as he walked up to the bench. He’d been the Deputy Magistrate since she was a child; that he was there was no surprise to her. She quickly examined the other Deputies. Griffin and Worth sat on either end of the courtroom. The other two—Parson and Iverson—must’ve been patrolling the square, though nearly all the residents were in that courtroom. Part of her wished Iverson was there. That there in a court of law she could question him about her mother, ask him the why and what then.

Deputy Daniels stood behind the bench and towered over the room. He nodded at Deputies Griffin and Worth, looked briefly at Lady Mae and Arbuckle who sat behind a large wooden table, but did not address anyone else. He took his seat, cleared his throat, unrolled a piece of paper, and began to read from it.

“Whereas from and after the publication of this law it shall not be lawful for any resident to carry or arm himself with any club, staff, gun, sword, or any other weapon of defense or offense, and it is further enacted by the authority aforesaid that if any resident shall presume to lift up his hand in opposition against any Deputy or resident, shall for every such offense, upon due proof made thereof by the oath of the party before a magistrate, have and receive a maximum of twenty atonements.” Still standing, he turned toward the man on the stand. “Mr. Timothy Edmonds, are you of sound mind and body?”