She also noticed he was taken with her. He smiled, he gawked, and she couldn't have been happier.

She v. as being sworn in by the clerk when the defense attorney leapt to his feet and demanded the judge's attention.

"Your Honor, this is highly irregular, " he protested. "Couldn't you wait until the prosecutor and I have finished up and the jury has left the courtroom to deliberate? My client is being tried on the charge of attempted murder. The prosecutor is trying to prove that my client willfully and with malice in mind tried to kill the Maple Hills sheriff.

This case shouldn't be muddled up with a witness testifying about an altogether different matter." The judge peered at the upstart over the top of his glasses. "I'm fully aware of what this case is all about.

Do you think I've been sitting up here twiddling my thumbs and daydreaming about fishing, Mr. Proctor? Is that what you think I've been doing? " "No, Your Honor, I don't" The judge wouldn't let him continue. "What you're saying, Proctor, is that you don't think that what the witness has to say is relevant, but I say it is. If your client is who I think he is, then the jury needs to know it because he would have been fleeing and he would have tried to kill the sheriff and he would have tried it with what you call malice in mind."

"But, Your Honor" "Mr. Proctor, you need to understand. No one tells me what to do in my own courtroom, and that includes fancy-pants lawyers like you.

I know you're young and inexperienced and that you think you know just about everything there is to know, but I make the rules here. Now sit down and be quiet until I finish with my witness. You understand me?

" "Yes, Your Honor."

"Then why aren't you sitting? " The crowd burst into laughter when Proctor tripped in his hurry to take his seat.

The judge wasn't amused. He slammed his gavel on the desk and demanded silence. "I'll have order in my court. If I hear another sound out of any of you, I'll clear you out.

"Like I said before, I make the rules here, not you. Sit." He bellowed the command, but by the time he swung around to Rebecca, he had mellowed considerably.

"I sure would like to cut to the chase and ask you plain out, but I'm not going to do that. First, I want you to tell the jury who you are and what happened to you." Her moment had finally arrived. Gripping her hands together on the railing so the jury could see them, she took a shuddering breath and began. She told them why she had been in the bank and what she had seen.

Tears came easily, and her voice had a halting quality she was quite proud of, and by the time her story ended, she was sure there wasn't a dry eye in the courtroom.

The judge was as shaken as the jury by her gut-wrenching recollection of the murders. He sat hunched over his desk, leaning toward her as though he thought his nearness would somehow comfort her.

"All right, then, " he said. "I know how hard it was for you to go through it again, and I appreciate it. Now, I want you to look at the man shackled to the table over on your right and tell me if he was one of the men in the bank." Rebecca stared at Bell for several seconds before shaking her head.

"No, " she cried out. "He wasn't there." The judge's face betrayed his disappointment. His frustration was palpable, but he wasn't ready to give up. "Take your time and look him over real good before you make up your mind." She did as he instructed. "I'm so sorry, Your Honor. I wish he were one of the Blackwater gang, but he isn't. I swear to you he wasn't there." Bell's attorney was grinning from ear to ear, and that offended the judge almost as much as her devastating testimony.

"Don't even think about getting to your feet again, Proctor. You keep your seat glued to your chair until I'm finished. I've got a couple of nagging points I want to clear up before I let this young lady leave the stand." Rebecca bowed her head and pretended she was desperately trying to compose herself. She knew the judge was watching her closely, and when she looked up at him again, she felt a burst of gloating satisfaction over Rafferty's compassionate gaze.

"I'm going to make this quick, " he promised. "I just have a couple of questions. Are you up to answering them now, or would you like a recess? " "I'd like to finish now, please." He immediately asked his first question. "I ordered three women brought here, and I'm curious to know where the other two are. Do you have any information about their whereabouts? " "No, I don't. When Marshal Cooper told me Grace and Jessica were also being brought here I felt terrible, just terrible. Their lives have been uprooted because of me. If I had told the truth from the beginning, none of this would be happening to them.

They've become dear friends. I expected them to be here when I arrived, and I was looking forward to seeing them and telling them how sorry I am. I'm sure they were just delayed. Grace wasn't feeling well when I left her. She might have had a relapse."

"Let's move on to the next question. You said you got on the train with Marshal Cooper and that he left your compartment and didn't come back.

Why did he leave? " "I had a pounding headache and my medicine was in my suitcase. Because Marshal Cooper was such a gentleman, he insisted on going to the baggage compartment to fetch it for me. If I hadn't complained . . . if I had suffered in silence . . . he would still be alive. It's my fault he's dead, all . . . my . . . fault." She buried her face in her hands and began to sob. Rafferty looked at the jury and noticed their united sympathy for the poor woman.

He realized he had better hurry up then before a rebellion broke out.

"We're almost done, " he announced. "Tell me what happened when you heard the gunshots. Do you recollect how many you heard? " She wiped her face with the handkerchief as she nodded. "I'm pretty sure I heard two shots fired. I was too frightened to find out what was happening.

The train made an unexpected stop, and that's when I heard that poor Marshal Cooper had been killed."

"And then what did you do? " "I was afraid to get back on the train.

I didn't know what to do, " she cried out. "I hid in the brush and waited until everyone had gone. I don't know how long I stayed there .

. . It could have been hours, " she stammered. "When I was finally able to pull myself together, I ran into town."

"But you didn't go to the sheriff there, and that's one of the little nagging points I'm confused about. Why didn't you seek his help? " "I was terrified, " she cried out. "And I didn't know who to trust. I wanted to get away from there. I knew you were waiting for me, Your Honor, and that you would protect me. All I could think about was getting here . . . to you." His expression was comical to her.

Rafferty looked as though his dog had just been put down.

"You did the right thing, " he said gruffly. "I'm not going to fault you because you came here, and that's exactly what I ordered you to do.

You've been very brave. Very brave indeed." The prosecutor stood up.

"Your Honor, before we go any further, will you please ask Miss James one last time to look at the defendant. Maybe recalling the sequence of events . . . " "This poor woman has been through a terrible time, "

the judge said.

"You and I both have to accept that we were about to hang an innocent man."

"Please, Your Honor, " the prosecutor pleaded.

"I don't mind, " Bell's attorney called out.

The judge ordered the sheriff to unshackle the defendant and bring him over so that the witness could get a close look at him. When Bell stood in front of the railing, the judge reluctantly turned back to Rebecca.

"This is the last time I'll ask you. Is the man standing in front of you one of the Blackwater gang? " "No, he isn't, " she insisted.

"Yes, he is! " The shout came from the doorway of the judge's chambers. Every one turned as Jessica slowly walked forward into the courtroom. She wanted to run to the stand and tear Rebecca from her seat so outraged was she, but Daniel had made her promise not to go any farther than the defense table so that she wouldn't be near the killers she was condemning.

The rage was building momentum inside her. Images kept flashing into her mind. Malcolm down on his knees looking up earnestly as he tried to be helpful . . . Cole carrying her baby across the fiery inferno, the roof collapsing behind him. . . Franklin's head exploding . . .

Daniel grabbed her arm to keep her from going any farther. He stayed by her side, but Cole had already moved to the center aisle and was diligently searching the audience for signs of hidden weapons.

"He was in the bank. I saw him put his gun to the back of a man's head and shoot him. I saw everything, " she shouted, "because I was there.

" She was pointing at Bell when she made her accusations, but her attention was centered on the woman who'd tried to kill Caleb and who'd shot Marshal Cooper. Rebecca was shaking her head in denial as she started to stand, then fell back against the chair. Her face was so white she looked as though she were rapidly bleeding to death.

The crowd was going wild, the judge was pounding his gavel, and in the fracas a young deputy in the back of the room shouted, "Those men are armed, Judge." He then tried to bring his rifle up.

Before anyone in the crowd could summon a scream or dive for cover, Daniel's gun was out, his arm fully extended, his target the center of the deputy's forehead. The man hadn't even gotten his rifle past his waist when he realized it was too late.

"Put the gun down, boy." The command was given in a deep, yet surprisingly calm, voice.

Out of the corner of his eye, Cole had seen Daniel draw his gun on the deputy and had already whirled around to face the only other men in the courtroom who were armed. The sheriff was one, a deputy standing in front of the side door was the other.

It was an instinctive reaction on the sheriff's part to go for his gun as soon as his deputy shouted, but Cole had his gun trained on him the second his fingers wiggled. Cole simply shook his head at the sheriff.

The message was clear.

Rebecca frantically searched the audience for Donald. He had promised her he would sit in the third or fourth row. She slowly slipped her hand into her pocket.

The judge came out of his seat and leaned forward with both hands planted on his desk as he roared, "What's the matter with you people?