Texas Tall (The Tylers of Texas 3)

The luminous digits on her bedside clock said 3:35. Time to go. If he left now, he’d make it back to the ranch before the cowhands started their day. He would help with the chores and finish in time to grab a bite of breakfast, shower, shave, put on a suit, and catch a ride into town with Beau. No need for him to drive his own truck—especially since, if things went badly, he might not be coming home again.

Following the trail of his boots and clothes, he dressed in the dark hallway, put on his coat, and went outside into the frigid dawn.

The town lay deep in slumber as he drove down Main Street to the highway. Even the cheap neon sign above the Blue Coyote had been turned off. Since Stella would be at the trial, the place would probably be closed for the coming day.

The ranch house was dark as Will pulled up to the porch, shut down the engine, and switched off the headlights. The bunkhouse, too, was quiet, with no sign of anyone stirring. Good. The boys would snicker if they caught their boss sneaking back from a hot night in town. Going to bed was out of the question. Even if it wasn’t too late, he wouldn’t be able to sleep. But at least he could make a show of coming out of his bedroom, dressed and ready for chores.

He had mounted the porch, when a voice from the shadows startled him. “I was wonderin’ when you were gonna show up, Will Tyler.” Jasper was sitting in his customary chair, wrapped in his old sheepskin coat. The dog lay at his feet.

“Reckon I don’t have to ask you where you been.”

Will was grateful the darkness hid the flush on his face. “What are you doing out here at this hour? It’s cold.”

“Couldn’t sleep. Restless, I guess, just like you. I don’t plan to be at your trial. Got an old man’s plumbing and it keeps me goin’ too much to sit long. But I’ll be rootin’ for ya. Sky promised he’d pass on everything he hears from Lau

ren.”

“Thanks. I need all the rootin’ I can get.” Will took the empty chair next to Jasper’s. Who knew when he’d have another chance to talk with the old man who’d been like a second father to him over the years? If he went to prison, Jasper might not even be here when he got out.

“Your dad would be right proud of you, defendin’ your little girl like you did,” Jasper said.

“I’d do it again—but I hope I never have to.” Will rocked back far enough to put his boots on the porch rail. “You said Bull shot a couple of rustlers. Did he ever kill anybody else?”

Jasper scratched the dog’s head while he pondered the question. “Nobody that didn’t need killin’. And he never got arrested for it. Things are different nowadays. The law makes it harder for a man to stand up for his family.”

“What do you think Bull would say to me if he was here right now?”

“He’d say, ‘Give ’em hell, son. Do the family proud!’ Since he’s not here, I’ll say it for him. Give ’em hell, Will!”

Behind them the front door opened. Erin, barefoot and wrapped in an afghan, pattered out onto the porch. “I heard voices,” she said. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine, honey,” Will said. “We were just talking. It’s early. You might as well go back to bed and get some more sleep.”

“I don’t think I can sleep. I haven’t slept all night. I’m scared, Daddy. What if I say something wrong at the trial today?”

“Come here.” Swinging his feet off the rail, Will indicated his lap. Erin eased herself across his knees and nestled her head against his chest. It had been a long time since Will had held her like this. Her legs dangled almost to the floor of the porch. She was going to be tall like her mother.

“Don’t worry about saying anything wrong,” he said. “Just tell the truth, like you did with Abner.”

“But what if they try to trick me?”

“Your mother will be there. She won’t let that happen. Mr. Drummond will be asking questions first. You know him. He used to work with your mother, and they’re still friends. He’s a nice man.”

Will wondered about that last part. Clay Drummond could be a pit bull in court, but he didn’t want Erin to go in afraid of him. Tori would be there to object if Drummond went too far, but if he could find a way to trip up a hostile witness’s testimony, he would do it—even to a child.

Erin had fallen silent. She lay with her ear against Will’s heart, as if memorizing the sound of it. Across the yard the light was on in the bunkhouse kitchen. The smell of fresh coffee drifted on the breeze. The men would be stirring, dressing, grabbing a quick cup before heading out to their chores. In the east the stars had faded, leaving a streak of pewter dawn above the horizon. Reluctantly Will eased Erin off his lap and stood.

His day of reckoning was here.

CHAPTER 18

The jury selection started at 9:00 a.m. and took less than an hour. Tori knew most of the citizens who’d been called. She looked for family men and women who would understand Will’s need to protect his daughter. Clay tended to choose people who were new in town and might not know Will, or those who’d patronized the Blue Coyote and might be more sympathetic to Stella’s loss.

There were some calls for elimination from both sides, but nothing serious enough to hinder the process from going forward. By 10:00 a.m., the jury of seven men and five women had been impaneled and sworn, and the trial—the People of Texas versus Williston Tyler—was ready to begin.

* * *

Wearing the gray business suit he’d always hated, and a blue silk tie that felt like a noose around his neck, Will took his seat next to Tori at the table for the defense. Today his ex-wife was all business in the black tailored suit and ivory blouse she favored for trial wear. There was no sign of the pliant, needy woman who’d lain naked in his arms last night. She was sharp, edgy, and primed for battle, a warrior queen in black stilettos.