But Kathryn wasn't paying any attention to him. As though she were in a trance she started walking, half dragging a fearful Jeremy behind her.
"No, no," he began, but stopped when his mother walked past the entrance to the saloon and instead started up the stairs beside the building. For a moment Jeremy stood rooted where he was, then he saw a small sign hanging beside the bottom of the stairs. I'll sue anybody about anything, the sign said. No case too small. I ain't afraid of nobody. John T. Stewart, attorney-at-law.
"What an extraordinary sentiment," Jeremy said, reading the sign. "Mother, did you--"
But Kathryn was already halfway up the stairs, and Jeremy had to run to catch her. "Mother, whatever are you thinking of doing?"
"I'm going to sue the bastard," Kathryn de Longe said, which made her son stand where he was, his mouth open in disbelief, for he'd never, ever heard his mother use such a word before. She thought damn might open the gates of hell.
"Wait for me," Jeremy called and ran to follow his mother into the grimy little office.
Chapter Two
"Cole Jordan?" the attorney, John T. Stewart, said as he pulled on the long point of his drooping mustache. "You want me to sue Cole Jordan?" Turning around in his chair, he glanced over his left shoulder at his plump wife, who was knitting what looked to be a twelve-foot-long scarf. Mr. Stewart seemed to be highly amused by the very prospect of suing such a man--and he didn't seem to have any intention of taking the case.
"Mr. Stewart, your sign says that you are afraid of no one," Kathryn said, her lips tight, and she couldn't resist a bit of sarcasm. "Why didn't you write, 'With the exception of Cole Jordan'?"
She had meant to shame him, but instead, he grinned at her. "I didn't write on there, 'Except for the devil,' either." After a pause, he looked over his shoulder to see if his wife had caught his witticism, and since she was smiling into her wool, she had.
"No sir," Mr. Stewart said, "I'll sue anybody but the devil and Jordan, which in my book is about the same thing. I'll take on murderers and thieves. I'll even take on preachers, but I'll not go against the Jordans."
For Kathryn, what she was hearing was too much like what she'd encountered in Ireland over nine years before. No one would stand up to the O'Connors then, and now no one would help her fight the Jordans. "Are you telling me that in a free country like this you'd allow one man to rule you?" "You can wave all the flags you want, ma'am, but it won't help. The Jordan family owns every inch of this town, and we all do what they say."
"How many of them are there?" Kathryn asked, eyes wide.
"A passel, but most of 'em went to Denver years ago. Only Cole stayed behind to run the town."
"This isn't a town, Mr. Stewart, this is a Den of Sin."
"It is nice, ain't it?" Mr. Stewart said, smiling fondly. "This town is a lawyer's dream-come-true. I got so much business, a dozen of me couldn't do all the work. And I can charge whatever I want."
Kathryn would have left as soon as she heard the man's cowardly attitude, but she was hungry and she knew Jeremy was too, and hunger makes a person desperate. Besides, in the last minutes she had been watching Mrs. Stewart. With every word that was exchanged, the woman's head had bent lower over her knitting, and she was now wearing a frown. Her look encouraged Kathryn.
"I have a case that you couldn't lose," Kathryn said. "I have a contract signed by Cole Jordan, and I'm sure someone in town could verify his signature. But then he admits he signed the contract. I'm no longer asking to work for him, but he does owe me money, and I need that money. I traveled a long way on his word, and now he's going back on his word. Doesn't that count for something here in America?"
"Maybe in America it does, but this here is Legend, and the United States government don't own this place, the Jordans do. They--"
"Isn't there someone who isn't afraid of him?" Kathryn asked in exasperation. "I can see by the filth of this town that the decent people here are fighting a losing battle, but surely, someone, somewhere..." She was looking at Mrs. Stewart, who still had her head low, her frown deepening. "Maybe someone with children...Surely there must be someone besides me who isn't afraid of him. Or maybe there's something he's afraid of," she said as an afterthought.
"Cole's afraid of guns," Mrs. Stewart said, speaking for the first time. "He won't touch a gun ever since he was nine years old. The boy had a dream that his whole family was killed by the people of Legend shooting at some robbers. Of course nothing like that ever happened, but that don't stop Cole. Won't touch a gun."
After that statement the woman looked back down at her knitting, and Kathryn blinked in confusion. What did that information have to do with Mr. Jordan's refusal to honor a contract? But Mr. Stewart seemed to think there was some relevance, as he had turned in his chair and was looking at his wife expectantly. "What's your point, sugar muffin?" he asked after several long moments of silence.
"Judge Harry Bascom."
The name meant nothing to Kathryn, but it seemed to mean a lot to John T. Stewart, for he turned as pale as an eggshell. Considering that he had the red face of a budding alcoholic, that was no easy task.
The lawyer turned back to Kathryn. "How much you payin' me?"
"If I gave you a hundred per cent of all I own in the world it would be nothing."
Mr. Stewart looked at Kathryn hard for a moment. "That's good. Beautiful young widow. Hmmm, almost too beautiful. You look like one of Carl's French singers."