Jack untangled herself from Donovan, the sweet moment between them stolen by Oliver's acerbic words. No, Jack thought, no, we have to have more time. He can't arrest him, not like this. He hasn't done anything wrong!

Oliver Walker stood before them, leaning heavily on his ivory handled candle. His face was red with exertion, matching the crimson of his waistcoat. His eyes bugged as he glared at Donovan and Jack.

"Need I repeat myself? I said you were under arrest!"

Donovan rose to his feet, his movements slow due to the burn across his back. He helped Jack to stand beside him, anger flashing in his dark eyes. "What evidence do you have against me? I was nearly killed in this fire that Max Slate started."

Oliver's chin trembled as he looked between Jack and Donovan. "I assure you, Maxwell Slate is not responsible. I spoke to him prior to coming here to serve as the town's representative of the law in the absence of an appointed sheriff."

Jack's rage burned inside of her. What had Max said to convince Oliver that Donovan was somehow responsible for this? Oliver's hand shook on the handle of his cane, and Jack wondered if Oliver was ruled by threats rather than lies.

"Margaret Hunt told us herself that Max was planning to burn down the Bookers' house, and Donovan and the deed with it!" Jack exclaimed.

Oliver's lips gathered in an ugly pucker. "Well, that's hardly possible given the fact that he is the rightful owner of the lease, now, is it?"

"Rightful owner?" Donovan sputtered. "That land belongs to my sister!"

"You forfeited your family's right to the land when you killed the other two Slate brothers!" Oliver exclaimed, his face blushing a darker shade of red.

Donovan's jaw dropped, his eyebrows drawn together. "That...that's preposterous! Mayor Walker, I'm a lawyer according to the state of Massachusetts, and I can assure there is no such law. Under no circumstances would this land be forfeited to the Slates regardless of the crimes of which I'm accused!"

Hope surged in Jack, but she was wrong to assume that logic would have any effect on Oliver. Donovan's protest only infuriated him and he raised his cane in their direction.

"This has gone on long enough! I am the rightful law in this city, and I make the decisions."

"Mayor Walker," Dr. Benjamin interceded from among the onlookers. "Can we not arrange for a civil hearing for his crimes?"

Oliver's eyes widened so the whites showed. "This is the only way we'll have peace! Donovan needs to face justice so we can put behind the violence and crime of the last few weeks."

Suddenly, Jack understood. Mayor Oliver Walker was terrified of Max Slate, and he knew that he had to give Max what he wanted or risk even further damage to the town of Irvington, possibly the only thing he had ever loved. Oliver was trying to take control in a desperate attempt to regain control. Losing one outsider, one Indian man, was a small price to pay for the peace of an entire town. Jack's desire to escape Irvington was replaced by a resolution to not let Max get away with this.

If they let Max play Oliver like a marionette, Donovan would be killed and his land stolen. Jack swore to herself that she would never let that happen. But what could they do? Donovan could run and never be found, but he would never be able to return to Irvington or to Jack.

Jack trained her eyes on Donovan who still held Jack's hand firmly in his own. He squeezed it tightly and let out a sigh, his shoulders sagging.

"Fine," Donovan said, hanging his head. "If my death can keep Max Slate from killing anyone else, I'll turn myself in."

The words made Jack sick and she squeezed his hand tighter. Turning himself in was surrendering himself to an unjust judge and almost certain death; Jack would try to stop it, but what could she do?

"Good," Oliver answered, his eyes skittering through the crowd. Those present stood with arms crossed, frowning at the mayor, and Oliver saw that he was losing control. He straightened and lifted his chin. "Come with me peacefully, and I can assure you no harm will come."

"Mayor Walker," Dr. Benjamin said, approaching his father-in-law with a closed expression. "Mr. Donovan is very badly injured from the fire that nearly took his life. Please promise me that I'll be permitted to tend his wounds while you keep him imprisoned. It's my duty as a doctor, no matter what verdict is chosen."

With the eyes of half the town on him, Oliver could hardly protest this humane proposal, so he gave a curt nod. "Very well. But only you. He will be permitted no more visitors."

Jack cried out at the decree. "No, you can't!"

"I assure you, Miss Harrison, I indeed can. Now, Mr. Donovan, you must come with me," Oliver said, motioning to his automobile parked a few hundred feet away with Mr. Bricker at the wheel.

Ignoring Oliver's urgency, Donovan turned to Jack and took both of her hands. The tears Jack had held within smarted her eyes, angry and bitter.

"You can't go with him," Jack hissed. "Get out of here, run now. While you can."

Donovan chewed on his lower lip and shook his head. "I can't, Jack. You were right. If I go, Max will threaten your life to convince me to come back. I have to do this."

"You...you're an idiot!" Jack cried and Donovan smiled despite himself. "He's going to kill you!"

"There are fates worse than death, Jack." He studied her face for a long moment as if memorizing her features. "Please, don't do anything stupid."

Jack lifted her chin. "I can't promise that. I'm going to try to exonerate you."

He smiled but the corners of his eyes turned down. "It's too late for that, Jack. I'm sorry we didn't have more time."

He planted a soft kiss on her cheek and turned away, limping towards the automobile with his shoulders hunched. Jack covered her mouth with her hands, wanted to scream and cry and throw herself after him, but there was nothing she could do.

Corrie came to her side and wrapped her arms around Jack's shoulders. "It's going to be alright, Jack," the younger woman murmured, but there was a warble of uncertainty in her voice.

"You don't know that, Corrie. Things are getting worse and worse."

Jack kept her eyes stubbornly fastened on Donovan's back as he climbed into the automobile beside Oliver. The butler started the car, and it roared down the road towards Irvington. Jack refused to look away until it disappeared into the setting sun.

This isn't the end.

"There has to be something we can do," Dr. Benjamin said. "This is a blatant misuse of power and justice."

"He just wants this over with," Corrie said, her lips in a firm line as the sunlight cast a dark hue on her copper hair. "My father's terrified, and he'll oversee a hanging if he must to ensure Max's permanent departure."

Jack nodded, but the lump in her throat prohibited her from speaking. She wrapped her arms around her chest to ward off the cold freezing her heart. Donovan and Jack had been thwarted at every turn, but now Donovan was in Max's hands. What more could they do?
Dr. Benjamin and Corrie whispered with the Bookers while Jack's mind raced. She could not surrender, but what could she do? What would stop Oliver from doing whatever Max asked of him?

"Come on, Jack. You're coming back to the hospital with us," Corrie said, touching the small of Jack's back. She finally turned away from the dirt path back to Irvington where the dirt disturbed by the disappearing automobile had finally settled. "The Bookers are going to stay in your house and take care of the farm, and Alex and I are going to try to help you and Donovan."

Dr. Benjamin joined them, his arms crossed. "I'm going to try to convince Oliver to hold onto the deed, Jack, as an assurance that Max won't take things into his own hands. That will at least buy us some time to figure out a solution."

"Good," Jack said. "We need to...we can't just let this happen."

"We agree," Corrie said. "I'm sorry we weren't listening before, Jack. We had no idea."

"But for now, we're going to take you home and get you dinner and a bath," Corrie said.

A bath. Jack started, spinning around and startling her niece. "A bath!" she exclaimed. "Anita."

Jack's sister had shown her unprecedented kindness and sympathy on the night of Titus's death and warned her that something like this might happen. What did Anita, and perhaps even Christina, know about Max's dealings?

"What are you talking about, Jack?" Corrie asked. "What does my mother have to do with this?"

"She...she gave me a bath after the night Titus died, and she said something..." Jack scratched her forehead. Perhaps there was some secret Jack could uncover that would lead to a solution. Some hope was better than none. "Maybe she knows something."

"We need to talk to Margaret too," Minnie said. "If she was kind to you, Jack, maybe she can tell us more about what's going on here."

"Alright," Dr. Benjamin said. "We'll do whatever we can, Jack."
He didn't finish his sentence, but Jack knew what they were not saying. Their best effort may not be enough to vindicate Donovan. They had little time before Oliver would find an excuse to have Donovan hanged, and they had no idea how to stop him.

Corrie helped Jack into Donovan's car and Dr. Benjamin drove them back to the medical practice. As the car skittered over the path, Jack remembered the day Donovan had taught her to drive, and she almost laughed. How carefree they had seemed all those months ago as if they were children. So much had changed, and Jack was terrified their time was up. But Donovan had called her a fighter, and Jack swore to herself that if Donovan went down, Jack would go with him.

Once back at Dr. Benjamin's practice, Jack quickly bathed herself, careful to avoid a look in the mirror. Her body ached as if she were a hundred years old and despite her despair, she knew she would sleep well tonight. As she changed into the night shift Corrie gave her, a knock sounded in the door.

"Come in," Jack called, her voice still coarse from the smoke. She turned to the doorway of the small bathroom and was surprised to see Hannah standing there, her long curls hanging loose around her face. The lantern in the room cast a warm glow on her wan face.

"Hi, Jack," she said, slipping inside and closing the door behind her. She wore a heavy black shawl that disguised her youthful figure, and Jack felt a familiar wrench of guilt for the love she'd lost so young.

"Hello," Jack said. "I'd say good evening, but I'm afraid that's not true for either of us."

Hannah chuckled, looking down for a moment. "Here, let me braid your hair," she said, and Jack turned so Hannah could work her hands through the tangled, singed locks. "I think you're going to stay with me while you're here."
Jack chewed on her lip for a moment, not sure what to say. "I don't want to be a reminder, Hannah."

Hannah sighed. "Everything reminds me of him, Jack. Everything."
Long silence passed between them as Hannah's fingers nimbly wove Jack's hair into a braid down her shoulders and back.

"They're going to get away with it, Hannah," Jack said, knotting her fingers in front of her. "If we don't stop them, Max is going to get away with killing Titus and Donovan."

Hannah pulled Jack's hair tight, stinging Jack's scalp. "We won't let them get away with it. All we need to do is convince the town that Max Slate is trouble; if the people rally behind Donovan, so will the mayor. He'll have to."

Hannah's certainty gave Jack hope; for the first time since Titus had agreed to help them, Jack and Donovan weren't fighting alone.

We won't let Max Slate get away with this.