Harvest Moon (Jordan-Alexander Family 2)

“Call your next witness, Mr. Alexander,” directed the judge.

“Your Honor, I’d like to call Coalie Donegal to the stand,” David said.

“No.” Tessa stood up.

“Be seated, Miss Roarke.” Judge Emory gave her a stem look. “This is your last warning. One more outburst and I’ll have the bailiff remove you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir, Your Honor, but you see, Coalie’s just a little boy. I don’t think he should be here. I don’t want him to see me here.”

“Your objection is admirable, Miss Roarke.” The judge was impressed. “But you’re on trial for a very serious crime. If Mr. Alexander thinks this young boy should testify in your behalf, you should let him.” He pinned his judicial gaze on Tessa. “Think of it as educational for the boy.”

“Yes, sir, Your Honor.” Tessa glared at David, then sat down.

“Where is he?” Judge Emory asked.

“At the sheriff’s house, Your Honor,” David answered, “playing with the Bradley children.”

The judge turned to the bailiff. “Go get him.” He pounded his gavel. “We’ll recess for ten minutes.”

“David”—Tessa faced him—“please.”

“Tessa”—David looked down into her shining blue eyes—”I’ve waited for Lee as long as I can. Coalie can help you. He wants to help you.”

“But—”

“He’s proud, Tessa. As proud as you are. He knows you left Chicago to protect him, that you worked at the Satin Slipper to give him a home. Let him repay your kindness.”

“He doesn’t have to.”

“Coalie knows that, Tessa,” David said. “He asked me to let him tell the people about you.”

“But I could lose him.” Every instinct Tessa possessed urged her to protect Coalie at all costs.

“If he doesn’t testify, he could lose you,” David said bluntly. I could lose you, he thought. “To prison.” Or a hangman’s noose. Forever.

Tessa couldn’t speak around the lump in her throat. She nodded her assent.

“Thank you.” David lifted one of her gloved hands and pressed it to his lips.

“Remember.” She forced out the one word, reminding him of his promise not to let them take Coalie away from her.

“I will.”

Ten minutes later Coalie entered the courtroom followed by the bailiff. David took him by the hand and led him to the witness chair. Coalie stood straight and proud as he placed his hand on the Bible and repeated the oath. Finished, he climbed into the chair. His feet dangled above the bottom rung. His hair was neatly combed and slicked back into place, his face red from exertion. Beads of perspiration formed on his brow and upper lip. Packed with bodies and heated by two huge stoves, the courtroom was overly warm. Coalie squirmed inside his jacket.

David smiled at the picture he presented of an all-American boy. “You may take off your jacket.” David removed his own jacket to make Coalie feel more comfortable removing his.

Tessa watched the ripple of muscles through David’s shirt and waistcoat, remembering the strength in his shoulders and how he looked without his clothes. Her face flushed; she lowered her gaze to the table and David’s tablet. The pages were covered with his notes, but Tessa couldn’t read them.

Coalie scrambled out of his wool jacket and handed it to David. David took the jacket to Tessa, then returned to Coalie. He pulled a chair up at an angle in front of Coalie and sat with his back to the gallery. “Now, Coalie, will you tell the court your name?”

“Coalie Donegal,” Coalie announced loudly. Proudly.

Several people in the gallery chuckled. David glanced over his shoulder. The door at the back of the courtroom opened. Lee Kincaid walked in.

David stood up. He looked up at Judge Emory. “No more questions, Your Honor.”

Coalie’s expression clouded with disappointment.