Free Printer in Petticoats by Lynna Banning

you feel your qualifications are for the office of district judge?”
    Conway Arbuckle, in a natty gray pin-striped suit and an emerald bow tie, stood up, stuck his thumbs in his vest pockets and cleared his throat.
    â€œFirst, I am a legitimate, I repeat, legitimate attorney-at-law. Second, I am a college graduate. My education was obtained at, ahem, Hahvard College.”
    Jess eyed Cole and they both began scribbling furiously on their notepads. What was he writing? She’d give a cookie to peek over his shoulder, but she wasn’t close enough. Instead she studied his right hand, now flicking his pencil back and forth between his thumb and forefinger.
    Oh, good, he was nervous. She hoped he was afraid of what she might write about Arbuckle in the Wednesday edition of the Sentinel . She liked making Cole nervous. She especially liked it when she licked her lips and his breath hitched in. It made her feel powerful, but at the same time shaky inside, not calm and ice-minded as a newspaper editor should be. It made her feel vulnerable somehow, as if...as if what Cole thought of her mattered.
    But of course what Cole Sanders thought about her mattered no more than a puff of dandelion fuzz.
    Of course .
    â€œThirdly,” Arbuckle droned on, his voice rising into speech-making mode, “I support law and order. As judge I intend to prosecute lawbreakers to the full extent of my God-given authority.”
    He settled back into his chair with a self-satisfied smirk.
    The marshal gaveled the buzzing crowd into silence, then turned to Jericho. “Sheriff Silver?”
    Jericho Silver shoved to his feet. His jeans were clean, his leather vest well-worn and his boots still bore spurs that chinked when he moved. He respectfully removed his well-worn black Stetson and faced the crowd.
    â€œI have to admit I am not an attorney. I have taken the qualifying exam, but I won’t know the results until Christmas. I also have to say that I’ve never been to college. But I have studied the set of law books my wife, Maddie, gave me when we were married.”
    Cole sent her an enigmatic smile and flipped to a new page in his notebook.
    â€œAs for dealing with lawbreakers,” the sheriff continued, “I figure every man, or woman, is assumed innocent until proved guilty. And in my view, punishment should be fair and swift.”
    Murmurs went around the room. Good for him, Jess thought. She admired Sheriff Silver. When Miles was killed, Jericho Silver had tracked the murderer for four days and brought him back for trial. He also kept a sharp eye out for her during those first few months after she’d taken over the newspaper. Even now she knew she could count on Jericho Silver to deter harassment from an out-of-sorts subscriber.
    Cole Sanders was backing the wrong candidate, plain and simple.
    â€œNext question,” Matt said. “What is your family background, Mr. Arbuckle?”
    Arbuckle leaped to his feet. “My great-grandparents were among the first settlers in this great country. They established substantial tobacco plantations in Virginia. My mother was a Phelan, Irish Catholic, ya know. My daddy, well, let’s just say the Arbuckle name, and the brew you all drink every morning speaks for itself.”
    Jess heard Cole mutter something under his breath. It sounded like “Big shot.”
    When Arbuckle sat down, Jericho stood up and looked directly at the audience members.
    â€œI don’t know who my parents were,” he said evenly. “Either my mother or father may have been Indian, but I don’t know that for sure. I guess you’d have to call me an orphan. I came to Smoke River when I ran away from the orphanage in Portland. Must have been about ten or maybe eleven years old. I’ve never really known when my birthday was.”
    â€œHuh!” Arbuckle scoffed. “The man’s nuthin’ but a half-breed!”
    â€œVery likely,” Jericho said in