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“I fear I wasn’t successful,” he admitted.
    Holt’s gaze strayed to the judge, shot back to Bannings. “You a friend of the family?” he asked.
    â€œI’m about to marry the judge’s daughter, Lorelei,” Bannings said.
    Holt gave him credit for confidence. “Given the fact that she set fire to her wedding dress in a public squarethis afternoon,” he ventured, “it would seem there’s been a change in plans.”
    Bannings looked pained, but the expression in his eyes was watchful. “Lorelei has a temper,” he admitted. “But she’ll come around.”
    Having been a witness to the burning of all that lace and silk, Holt had his doubts, but he hadn’t come here to discuss what he considered a private matter. “Gabe Navarro,” he said, “is an old friend of mine. We were Rangers together. He’s innocent, and he’s being treated like a dog. Just now, I’m wondering why you didn’t file an appeal.”
    â€œHow do you know I didn’t?”
    â€œI read the paperwork over at the courthouse,” Holt said. “Along with the clerk’s notes. Seems to me, you didn’t put up much of an argument.”
    Bannings glanced questioningly at the judge, which confirmed a few suspicions on Holt’s part. Gabe’s trial had been a monkey show, as sorry as the case against him.
    â€œI did my best,” Bannings said, a little defensively.
    â€œI’m thinking your best is pretty sorry,” Holt replied.
    Bannings flushed. Holt suspected the lawyer would have liked to land a haymaker, but apparently his memory was better than his ethics. He clearly remembered the set-to over Mary Sue and her torn dress well enough to think better of the idea, which showed he was prudent, as well as spineless.
    â€œNavarro was tried and found guilty,” Fellows put in. “He won’t be missed around here.”
    Holt set his back teeth, pulled hard on the reins of his temper. Gabe was behind bars, and if he, Holt, got Fellows’s back up, Gabe would suffer for it. He’d senta wire to the governor after leaving the courthouse, but there was no telling how long it would be before he got an answer.
    â€œI won’t take up any more of your time,” he said.
    The judge nodded.
    Holt reclaimed his hat from its hook on the coat tree, where the maid had hung it after admitting him, and opened the door. There were still several hours of daylight left; he could reach the Cavanagh ranch before sunset if he rode hard. In the morning, he would return to San Antonio, look in on Gabe and find a lawyer with some backbone.
    Deep in these thoughts, he was taken by surprise when Bannings followed him onto the porch.
    â€œLeave this alone,” the lawyer said, in an anxious whisper, after glancing back at the closed door. He must have seen the judge looking out at him through that long window, because he paled a little. “You’ve got no idea what kind of man you’re dealing with.”
    â€œNeither have you,” Holt said, and kept walking.

CHAPTER 4
    G ABE FIGURED he must be hallucinating. Roy, the jailer, was standing just on the other side of the cell doors with a covered tray in his hands, and the savory smells coming from under that checkered dish towel made Gabe’s mouth water and his belly rumble.
    He sat up, blinking, and swung his legs over the edge of the cot.
    Grumbling, the jailer set the food down on the floor and fumbled with his keys. Not for the first time, Gabe considered overpowering him—which would be easy—and taking his chances getting past the guards outside—which would not be so easy. He’d most likely get himself gut-shot if he tried.
    â€œThat friend of yours must have himself quite a bank account,” Roy muttered, pushing the door open cautiously and shoving the tray inside with his foot. “That there’s a fancy dinner from over the