Cotton looked around and decided he would much rather be doing anything other than
what he was. He saw both mountain dwellers and townsfolk gaping at him: the one man
who stood in the way of their rightful fortune. And yet with all that weighing down upon
him, he shook his mind clear and roared, "Judge, he's just as good as bribed this jury with
that statement. I want a mistrial. My client can't get a fair shake with these people
counting Southern Valley dollars."
Goode smiled at the jury. "I withdraw the statement. Sorry, Mr. Longfellow. No harm
intended."
Atkins leaned back in his chair. "You're not getting a mistrial, Cotton. Because where
else you going to go with this thing? Just about everybody from fifty miles around
already's sitting in this courtroom, and the next nearest bench is a day away by train. And
the judge there isn't nearly as nice as I am." He turned to the jury. "Now listen here, folks,
you're to ignore Mr. Goode's statement about the offer to purchase Miss Cardinal's land.
He shouldn't have said it, and you are to forget it. And I mean what I say!"
Atkins next focused on Goode. "I understand you have a fine reputation, sir, and I'd hate
to be the one to taint it. But you pull something like that again, and I got me a nice little
jail cell in this building where you'll be doing your time for contempt, and I might just
forget you're even there. You understand me?"
Goode nodded and said meekly, "Yes, Your Honor."
"Cotton, you have any more questions for Dr. Ross?"
"No, Judge," Cotton said and dropped into his seat.
Goode put Travis Barnes on the stand, and though he did his best, under Goode's artful
maneuvering, the good doctor's prognosis for Louisa was rather bleak. Finally, Goode
waved a photograph in front of him.
"This is your patient, Louisa Mae Cardinal?"
Barnes looked at the photograph. "Yes."
"Permission to show the jury."
"Go on ahead, but be quick about it," said Atkins.
Goode dropped a copy of the photo in front of Cotton. Cotton didn't even look at it, but
ripped the photograph into two pieces and dropped it in the spittoon next to his table
while Goode paraded the original in front of the jurors' faces. From the clucks and muted
comments and shakes of head, the photo had its intended effect. The only one who didn't
look upset was George Davis. He held the photo especially long and seemed to Cotton to
have to work awfully hard to hide his delight. The damage done, Goode sat down.
'Travis," said Cotton, rising and coming to stand next to his friend, "have you ever treated
Louisa Cardinal for any ailments before this last one?"
"Yes, I have. A couple of times."
"Can you tell us about those instances, please."
"About ten years ago, she was bitten by a rattler. Killed the durn thing herself with a hoe,
and then she come down the mountain by horse to see me. Arm swollen to about the size
of my leg by that time. She took seriously ill, ran a fever higher'n I'd ever seen. In and out
of consciousness for days. But she came out of it, right when we thought she wasn't going
to make it. Fought like a durn mule she did."
"And the other time?"
"Pneumonia. That winter four years ago when we had more snow than the South Pole.
Y'all remember that one?" he asked the folks in the courtroom and they all nodded back
at him.
"No way to get up or down the mountain then. It was four days before they got word to
me. I got up there and treated her when the storm ended, but she was already past the
worst of it all by herself. Would'a killed a young person with medicine, and here she was
into her seventies and not a drop of anything except her own will to live. I've never seen
anything like it."
Cotton went and stood over near the jury. "So, she sounds like a woman of indomitable
spirit. A spirit that cannot be conquered."
"Objection, Your Honor," said Goode. "Is that a question, or a divine pronouncement on
your part, Mr. Longfellow?"
"I hope both, Mr. Goode."
"Well, let's put it this way," said Barnes, "if I were a betting man, I wouldn't bet against
the woman."
Cotton looked over at the jury. "Neither would I. No further questions."
"Mr. Goode, who you calling next?" asked Atkins.
The Commonwealth's attorney rose and looked around the courtroom. He kept looking
and looking until his gaze reached the balcony, moved around its edges, and then came to
rest on Lou and Oz. And then finally on Oz alone.
"Young man, why don't you come on down here and talk to us."
Cotton was on his feet. "Your Honor, I see no reason—"