Hannah dropped the book she’d been holding. “What makes you think your father doesn’t like you? Of course, he loves his own children. Why would you say such a thing?”
Annabelle sat brooding for a few seconds before shrugging. “He’s just doesn’t bother much with us.”
Hannah patted her hand. “Some men just don’t know how to show affection. We’ll have to teach him.”
Chapter Six
As soon as Bessie returned from town, Hannah took Georgie upstairs for a nap while Annabelle worked on arithmetic problems. Hannah grabbed the basket Bessie had packed and went to Cameron’s office.
She held up the basket. “Are you ready?”
He closed the book he’d been reading. “Good timing. I need a break.”
On the way to the barn, Hannah stopped and asked, “Where will we be having this picnic?”
Cam took the picnic basket from her. “There’s a park-like area by Hunter’s Creek. Do you ride?”
“Of course. My parents had about a half-dozen horses.”
Cam held the barn door open for her and said, “Take your pick—except for the black stallion; he’s mine. His name is Raven. Isn’t he grand?”
Hannah patted the stallion’s nose. “He’s beautiful... or should I say, handsome?” She thought her remark might get at least a chuckle from Cam, but a brief smile was all she got.
After scanning the dozen horses, she chose a brown sorrel quarter horse with a tan mane.
Cam examined the saddles and chose one for her. “Shall I?” he asked.
“Oh, no. I can saddle her. It will give her a chance to get used to me.” Hannah took the saddle from Cam.
Cam saddled Raven while she finished saddling her horse. “Does my horse have a name?”
“No,” he said. “Mine is the only one I named. You can name her.”
Hannah stood back and admired the horse. “I’d like to name her after my mother whose name was Mary, but everyone called her Molly.” She stroked the horse’s mane. “Do you like your name, Molly?”
Cam led the way down the dirt road about a mile before turning onto a narrow path. She was forced to ride behind him. He made a turn, and Hannah viewed a rather muddy but large creek in an area someone had cleared and placed wooden tables with matching benches.
“This is beautiful. Who takes care of the park?” Hannah asked.
“The town council hired a groundskeeper who also maintains the courthouse and the home of the town council’s president, Jake Haskell.”
They tied their horses to a nearby post, and Cam untied the picnic basket from his horse.
They sat across from each other. Cam unpacked the food.
While they ate, Hannah tried to find out more about her mysterious husband. “When is the election?”
“Next fall. I’m impatient,” he said. “My legal cases are becoming boring.”
“In one of your letters, you mentioned that you were working on a murder case.”
“Oh, yes. I won that case.”
“Tell me about it,” she said.
After Cam explained the case and how he’d won it, Hannah asked, “Well, who did kill Mr. Monroe?”
Cam shrugged.
“What if you got a murderer off?”
“I just do what I’m paid to do. I blame the prosecutor as he did a horrible job. He couldn’t dispute any of the facts I brought up.”
“Oh, like the time the stagecoach arrived?”
“That and the reason why Mrs. Wilson couldn’t identify the killer.”
Hannah gasped. “That’s right. She would have witnessed the whole thing.”
“Would you like another sandwich?” he asked.
“No, but it was very good.
“So, why didn’t Mrs. Wilson know who killed Mr. Monroe?”
“Mrs. Wilson swore that she was asleep, and when she awoke, there Monroe was, sprawled out on the floor, dead.”
“Honestly, how could she sleep through someone axing her bed partner?”
Cam gave her a rare smile. “You’re doing a better job than the prosecutor. He never once asked her that when she took the stand.”
“What about Mrs. Monroe?” Hannah asked.
“She claims she awoke to find her husband gone. He’d gone to bed with her, but in the morning, he was gone. Both women acted very strangely, but my job was to clear Mr. Wilson, and I did.”
“In your opinion, could a woman have been strong enough to ax a man?” Hannah asked.
“Mrs. Wilson is a tiny thing, but Mrs. Monroe is hefty—not fat, mind you, just sturdy. It’s possible, but I somehow envisioned a man’s hand in this.”
“But not Mr. Wilson’s?”
A solemn silence fell over them for a moment. "You asked me if it bothered me that I might have freed a guilty man."
Hannah nodded.
“I get paid to do a job, and I do it to the best of my ability, but to be honest, it does bother me somewhat.” Cameron shrugged. “Maybe it’s because it was my first murder case.”
Hannah kept her feelings on the matter to herself. She knew it was a lawyer’s job to defend a person and the prosecutor’s job to accuse him, but she felt it would pose a danger to a community if a killer got off without a penalty. What if he killed again? She wasn’t sure she fully understood how the legal system worked, and she hoped Cameron would be elected to the Senate. She’d do everything possible to help him, except lie.
She wondered why he hadn't asked how Annabelle was doing with school, and if the bandages on Georgie’s thumb had worked. Perhaps Bessie had filled him in—certainly, he must care for his own children.
Cameron started to pack away the remnants of the picnic, and Hannah helped him. As she did, their hands met near the basket, and they froze for a few seconds before pulling their hands quickly back.
After the basket had been
