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SECOND CHANCES IN THE VALLEY
ELLEN JOY
Copyright © 2021 by Ellen Joy All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical
means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission
from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Created with Vellum

For Danielle. Thank you for always supporting me.
 CONTENTS

Books by Ellen Joy

Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22

Also by Ellen Joy

About the Author
Click HERE or visit ellenjoyauthor.com for more information about
Ellen Joy’s other books.

Cliffside Point Beach Home Beginnings

Seaview Cottage
Sugar Beach Sunsets
 Home on the Harbor

Camden Cove The Inn by the Cove

The Farmhouse by the Cove The Restaurant by the Cove The
Christmas Cottage by the Cove The Bakery by the Cove

Prairie Valley Sisters Coming Home to the Valley Daydreams in the

Valley Starting Over in the Valley Second Chances in the Valley New
Hopes in the Valley Feeling Blessed in the Valley

Beach Rose Harbor Beach Rose Secrets

 PROLOGUE

“J esse Gunderson, you know that I love you.” No matter how

many times Olivia said it, it just didn’t seem to get through
to him.
“Then, why not?” he pleaded, holding his Stetson in his hands,
squeezing the brim.
A soft breeze blew across the lake, where they sat on the sun-
warmed shore.
The question was like a punch in the gut. She had no answer,
other than that she was selfish. She wanted to go to law school. She
wanted to be with Jesse, but why did he have to complicate things?
“I’m not ready to get married.” Marriage didn’t always work out.
Her parents’ marriage proved that. She loved Jesse with all her
heart, but marriage just wasn’t in the cards. Not yet, at least.
Jesse pulled another blade of grass and started tearing it to bits.
“Then let me go with you.” His defeated look said it all. He already
knew her answer. “I want to be with you.”
“Jesse, I’ve wanted to be an attorney since I was a little girl. Law
school is only three years.”
He got up off the ground and she reached for his leg before he
could walk away.
“Come on, Jess,” She couldn’t believe he was being so stubborn
about this. “Just a few more years, I promise.”
 He put his hat back on and looked out across the valley. Golden
stalks as far as the eye could see, set against a radiant sky that went
all the way to heaven.
He pulled her up and into his arms and kissed her. “Goodbye,
Olivia.”
 CHAPTER 1

O livia’s plane circled the Minneapolis/St. Paul International

airport. She looked out at the dark sky as snow fell in thick
clumps.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have just received word that we are
in line to land.”
She looked down at her phone as messages started coming in,
one right after another. Dozens of messages since leaving
Washington DC.
“Senator Johnson just signed,” Scott said from the next seat,
already in the thick of his own messages. The capital never stopped
moving, even if the Twin Cities’ airport did.
“That’s good,” she said, putting the phone to her ear.
“Olivia, Clark Garrett wants you to call him as soon as possible,”
her assistant said on the message. “Something about his wife.”
Clark Garrett’s twenty-something wife had recently caught him
sleeping with their housekeeper. Her lobbyist client wanted the
whole situation hushed up, to pay her out and convince her to leave
quietly.
Scott stuffed his phone in his blazer pocket and then took her
hand, looking out the tiny window.
“So, this is Minnesota?”
 Born in Greenwich, Scott had attended an expensive prep school,
then Princeton and Brown Law School, then landed a job in
Washington. He was as purebred as they came. Ironically, it was her
background that attracted him to her. The whole prairie farm-girl
thing.
“This is Minnesota.”
All the lights were on across the city, even though it was still
daytime. The snow seemed to dim the sun.
“How far out do you live?”
“Prairie Valley is a couple hours away.” She could barely see the
gate through the falling flakes. Her parents would be waiting for
them.
This was exactly where her life had changed, as a kid. It was at
this airport where she’d seen her dad kissing that woman, where her
parents’ marriage fell apart in the blink of an eye, precipitating their
move to Prairie Valley.
She hated this airport almost as much as she hated the idea of
coming back home.
It had been five years since she’d been back. Five years since
she rode Midnight. Five years since her mom married Sam. Since she
saw or spoke with Jesse.
She shifted in her seat as the plane taxied to the gate. All the
lights came on inside the cabin. People stood all around them,
gathering their things, opening up the overhead compartments.
Scott grabbed her overnight bag, ushering her out into the aisle
ahead of him when the line finally started moving.
“Thank you very much,” Scott said to the flight attendant, in his
best politician voice. Charming, strong, comforting. You didn’t have
to study Freud to see the similarities between her dad and Scott.
Both attorneys-turned-politician. Both driven by a life in government.
They walked up the ramp into the airport. The whole place was
covered in tinsel as Christmas music played in the background.
“Will I get to ride a horse?”
 She thought of Midnight, and how guilty she felt for leaving him
behind. Sadly, Midnight was the only male in her life who seemed to
actually understand her.
“If you want to.” She headed down the terminal toward the exit
and arrivals pick-up.
A text popped up from her mom.
We’re in baggage claim! XOXO
Her stomach didn’t feel so well. She couldn’t wait to see her
family, but she suddenly felt strange to be bringing Scott along.
“My family are a bit country,” she warned.
“Are you the Laura Ingles Wilder of the twenty-first century or
something?” Scott wasn’t pretentious, but he didn’t realize how
privileged he had been, growing up. He’d had hired help in his
house. She may have been the Governor’s daughter, but she was
raised country. She could catch a runaway rooster, jump into cold
lake water from a rope swing, and race around barrels faster than
anyone this side of the Mississippi. Then a horrible thought crossed
her mind.
Never mind Scott, she might not be able do any country any
longer.
“I see them,” she said, as they went down the escalator.
She laughed when she saw Sam’s hat above the crowd, even
before she saw her mom.
“That cowboy is your stepfather?” Scott suddenly looked very
city, compared to her rancher stepfather.
She laughed as he brushed back his perfectly gelled hair. “Come
on, they’re going to love you.”
Her mom held up a sign with her name on it, decorated with
stickers.
“Hi mom,” Olivia said, as Georgie hugged her.
“I’m so glad you’re here!” her mother held on for dear life. She
returned her embrace and took in a deep breath of her familiar
perfume.
 “I’m glad to be home.” And suddenly, all the worry disappeared.
Sam shook Scott’s hand, then gave her a big bear hug. “It’s good
to see you.”
Her mother had tears in her eyes. “This is going to be quite the
Christmas!”
Sam put his arm around his wife and led them out of the airport
toward the parking garage. “It’s going to be great to have everyone
back.”
“Everyone?” She shot a look at her mother.
Georgie gave her an awkward smile. “Jesse’s moved back.”
Her heart stopped.
Scott smiled and asked innocently, “Who’s Jesse?”
Olivia’s stomach twisted, and she knew why the feeling of dread
had filled her at the thought of coming back. She floundered for an
answer.
“He’s… my step-cousin.”

Jesse sat in his truck and thought about his situation. He looked up
at the window above the barn doors at the Boudreau farm. It had
been three months since he’d been back in Prairie Valley. At first
he’d stayed with his father, his wife Rosie, and their children, but the
house was wild with activity.
He could stay at the ranch house with his uncle, but things had
changed now that he had married Georgie. The main problem with
staying there had flown in that afternoon, with her junior senator.
Now the thousands of acres felt small, much too small for all of
them to stay together.
He walked up to the kitchen door of the farmhouse, thinking
about the ranch quarters. They didn’t feel far enough away. No, he’d
find somewhere else, if he could.
 “Hello, Maggie,” he said, as he was greeted by her dogs at the
door.
“Jess, come in!” She opened her arms and gave him a hug.
“Thanks so much for coming.”
“Any time. How can I help?”
She pointed up the back staircase. “I need help bringing down
some decorations.”
“You need more?” He looked around the kitchen. Every square
inch was covered in red, green, or gold. Stuffed Santas sat in an
arrangement on the table, mini reindeer stood on the floor, tinsel
was twisted around the stair railing, and garland draped everything.
“I have a few more boxes upstairs.” She headed up the back
staircase, and Jesse followed.
In the attic, there were at least half a dozen plastic containers
labeled X-Mas on their sides in black marker.
“Could you bring the rest of these down?”
“No problem.” He bent down to pick up the first box, and then
looked out the window at the red barn. As if the heavens above
were opening up, he saw his answer right in front of him. “Has
anyone stayed in the apartment lately?”
“Not in years.” She went down the stairs, holding her hands
against the wall and railing.
As lucky as he had been to be given a shot at a second family, he
needed some space now. “It’s never quiet at the ranch.”
Maggie laughed. “Yes, those boys are pretty busy.”
“Would you rent it out?” He shook his head at the idea that his
father and step-mother Rosie had four boys under the age of ten
living under one roof. “Just until I find my own place.”
He didn’t know where else he could stay. Prairie Valley didn’t
exactly have a booming real estate market. He could build. His
father and uncle had offered him land plenty of times, but now, in
his late twenties, his heart was still full of wanderlust, and he
couldn’t be sure he was really ready to settle down.
 He’d only agreed to come back for his father’s surgery a few
months ago and recovery. His father’s back had been a wreck since
his accident years ago. Jesse was glad to help out on the ranch
while he recovered. But now he was on the mend, and Jesse still
hadn’t left. Because he was lost.
The rodeo life paid enough to live on and to travel between
competitions, but little more. If he wanted to really make some
money, coming back to the ranch, working in the family business
was a no brainer. But he didn’t really want to be back in Prairie
Valley, especially with Olivia coming back with her congressman for
Christmas.
“You should air it out for a bit, but I’d love the company.” Maggie
smiled as he carried the box down the stairs.
He climbed back up, thinking about the barn and the solitude it
would offer. No longer would he wake to children’s theme songs
blaring out of the television. No more nerf bullets hitting him
unexpectedly from an ambush. No more sticky little fingers touching
his phone or rifling through his things. And no more paying a dollar
with every slip of the tongue.
“I really appreciate it.”
“It’s going to be like old times,” Maggie said.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“They’re going to be staying here.” Maggie stood at the bottom
of the attic stairway. “Can you grab the red and green box next, and
just leave it on this floor?”
“Sure…” He tried to process the information. “Who’s staying
here?”
“Olivia and her boyfriend.”
He almost dropped the plastic storage container. “Why here?”
He’d expected Olivia and Congressman Schofield to stay at the
ranch with Georgie and his uncle.
“I think she wants him to see where she grew up.” Maggie
sounded happy about the plan. “Could you see if the lights are in
there?”
“Sure.” He lifted the lid and tangled strings of Christmas lights
nearly exploded from the box. When was the last time he’d actually
spent time at the farm, with Olivia? Once, it had been an everyday
affair. She had been his closest friend. His girl.
Well, she wasn’t his girl or his friend, now.
“You need anything else?” he asked, as he climbed down the
narrow staircase.
Maggie pulled open the top of a container and peeked inside.
“Nope, I think this should do it.”
“Do you want me to put the porch lights up for you?” He
remembered the first time he’d seen the farmhouse at
Christmastime, bright lights everywhere.
“You wouldn’t mind doing that for me?” She seemed pleased.
“Absolutely not.”
“You might not want to live above the barn. I may have more
things for you to do,” she teased, heading down the stairs.
“Anything you need.”
He followed after Maggie, peeking into Olivia’s old room. It
looked almost the same, but at the same time surreal and distant,
like an old movie not seen for years. “How is Olivia doing?”
Would Maggie see through the “innocent” question?
“She’s doing great!” Maggie clapped her hands together. “She
loves the law office she’s working for, one of the most reputable
firms in D.C. She sees Nathan a lot, now that he’s in Washington. I
guess that’s how she met Scott.”
As Maggie raved on about Olivia and her perfect life, he saw his
Uncle Sam’s truck rolling to a stop in front of the barn.
“They’re here!” Maggie called out, and her dogs scrambled to
their feet and raced to the door. “They’re here!”
Jesse’s mouth immediately dried up. “They’re here?”
He put the containers on the kitchen table and looked out the
window.
 There, in the middle of the driveway, Olivia stood looking up at
the farmhouse.
“Olivia!” Maggie shouted, her arms open wide, ushering the dogs
out the door with her.
“Nana!” Olivia rushed to hug Maggie as she climbed down the
porch steps. The two embraced with affectionate laughter, and his
heart stopped at Olivia’s smile.
He stood frozen, hoping, praying, to find a way out of this
situation. He still had time to get out of the house via the back door.
He could walk back to the ranch through the west pasture, and
nobody would know a thing.
“You wouldn’t believe who’s here!” he heard Maggie say. Through
the window, he watched her gesture toward the house. “Jesse!”
Even from inside the farmhouse, he could see Olivia’s face turn
white.

Olivia felt all her blood rush toward her feet. Her head felt dizzy at
the news.
“Jesse’s… here?” she whispered.
Scott got out of the truck with a pair of sunglasses on. The
winter afternoon was bright, after the effects of the snow storm, but
definitely carried the Minnesota chill along with it.
“I’m Scott.” He walked right up to Maggie. “Thank you so much
for inviting me to stay.”
She took him into a big hug and squeezed him. “Welcome to the
farm!”
From behind her she heard the screen door slap against the
wood and footsteps coming toward them. She didn’t want to look
around and see who it was, even though she knew.
“Hello, Olivia.”
 She didn’t move at first, noticing how his voice had gained a
deeper tenor over the years. When she did turn around, she almost
gasped at his appearance. No longer a skinny teenager, but a tall,
handsome, cowboy.
He gave her a nod, then reached out his hand to Scott. “How ya
doing, I’m Jesse.”
Scott shook his hand and studied him. Then he shot a finger at
him. “So, you’re the cousin.”
“Cousin?” He glanced at her.
Olivia could feel her face heating up. She probably should’ve told
Scott he had been the love of her life, but there was no turning
back.
“Scott’s never met a cowboy before.”
Scott laughed at himself and put his hand on Jesse’s shoulder.
“The closest I’ve been to a horse was a petting zoo.”
Jesse looked at the guy’s hand on his shoulder as Scott carried
on, completely oblivious, talking about his home state of Connecticut
and some fundraiser he had done for a local Marina. Jesse didn’t like
him.
“…Then, I continued my work with the organization back in
Washington.” Scott removed his hand and took Olivia’s in his. “So,
this is the famous farmhouse. I’ll be staying there, right?” He looked
up at the barn.
Olivia looked at Jesse. And Jesse stared her down.
“Yup, you can stay over the barn, right, Nana?”
Maggie made a face, clasping her hands over her chest. “I’m
sorry, Liv, I have a tenant.”
“What?” Olivia hadn’t heard of anyone renting the apartment.
She’d just assumed it would be open. She needed it to be open. She
wanted Scott to have some room and privacy. He was loud when he
worked, pacing and raising his voice while he talked on the phone,
tapping away at his laptop into the wee hours.
“Really, Nana?” Georgie seemed as surprised as Olivia.
 Maggie smiled. “Jesse’s moving in.”
“You’re living in the barn?” she blurted. She couldn’t believe
Jesse would stay here, of all places.
“If you need a place to stay, you can always stay with us. There’s
plenty of room,” Sam said.
Jesse stuffed his hands in his pants, and Olivia couldn’t help but
notice the wild horse tattoo on his arm. She had forgotten how low it
was, visible as his shirtsleeve rode up on his wrist. Would Scott
notice he had the exact same tattoo she had on her back?
She had just turned eighteen, and begged him to go to the Cities
with her and get it. They had already broken up and gotten back
together by then, and she’d thought it was forever. He’d promised to
follow her to the end of the world. Georgie almost had a heart attack
when she saw it, but the matching tattoos became a running joke in
the family.
Funny, how her stomach fluttered as she studied the black ink,
the familiar lines on this now unfamiliar person. She was feeling
something she hadn’t felt in a very long time.
 CHAPTER 2

J esse felt like a complete loser, moving into the barn as Scott
boasted about his fabulous career with the federal
government, saving the dolphins, and creating good public relations
with foreign countries.
Jesse felt like he was just a freak show to this suit. He’d never
seen a real cowboy. Could the guy get his head out of his own rear
end?
Jesse split as soon as he could, and found himself at
Lumberjacks later that night.
“I’ll take a double Jack, no ice,” he said, as soon as he sat down
at the bar.
“Jesse?” He looked to the man next to him and didn’t recognize
the stranger at first, until he saw her out of the corner of his eye.
Olivia. She looked right at him. Suddenly Scott blocked his view as
he reached out his hand to Jesse. “How’s it going?”
“Great!” Scott pointed two beers over at the table in the corner.
“You should come join us.”
“Nah, that’s okay.” He faked a smile. “I’m good here.”
“One whiskey, just for you,” the bartender growled.
“Thanks, Billy.” Jesse held up his glass and looked over Scott’s
shoulder to Olivia, who looked like she had seen a ghost. “You two
should have some time alone tonight.”
 Scott patted him on the back. “I can’t have Olivia’s cousin
hanging out at a bar by himself. She said it’s been years since you’ve
seen each other.”
“You and Olivia are cousins?” Billy made a horrified face.
“By marriage!” Jesse couldn’t believe that was how Olivia
introduced him.
Billy shook his head and headed on to the next customer.
“Seriously, Olivia would want to hang out.” Scott looked sincere,
and Jesse felt a slight hint of guilt that this nice guy, who clearly
didn’t comprehend the whole situation, was inviting him to hang out
with the woman he still loved.
“I’d love to get to know Olivia’s family.”
Jesse growled as he put his hat back on and walked across the
room, gripping his whiskey glass, wishing he’d downed it before
heading over.
“Olivia!” Scott called out. “Look who’s here.”
Olivia’s smile was forced, and he could see that quiver in her lip
that meant she was holding back what she really wanted to say.
“Jesse.”
“Olivia.” He rested his hat on his knee as he took the open seat
across from the couple, Scott’s arm around her shoulder.
“So, you work at the ranch?” Scott was sizing him up.
“Yeah.” Jesse didn’t need to size Scott up. Nice or not, he was a
politician. Jesse had had enough experience with politicians to last a
lifetime, dealing with Olivia’s father, Nathan Meyer. Former Governor
of Minnesota, Olivia’s father was now a senator. He’d butted into
their relationship more times than Jesse could count, and mostly for
his own selfish purposes. Olivia never saw the harm with her father’s
boundary issues, but then she never saw anything wrong with her
father ever, even though he was a cheating scum liar.
“I think it’s great that you’re working there again.” She played
with the napkin under her glass of wine.
 “Thanks.” He curled his lip into a half smile. He could pretend a
little, for Olivia’s sake. He took the glass and sipped it.
She smiled as Scott looked at him. She twisted the glass with her
fingers, keeping her gaze on the swirling liquid, as if she would do
anything to avoid his gaze.
He leaned forward on his elbows, and noticed Scott checking out
his tattoo.
Their tattoo.
Jesse wanted to push up his sleeves. Not too many cousins had
matching tattoos. Would he put two and two together?
Scott looked up and met Jesse’s eyes. “Let me get the next
round.”
Jesse nodded, and then gulped down his whiskey.
It was going to be a long night.

The night had started well enough, with the whole clan all coming
out to the farm. It felt like the entire town was standing in the
kitchen.
Just as she’d expected, Scott fit in right away. He liked meeting
strangers and listening to their stories. He was truly interested, and
he loved to make connections. You didn’t become a US
representative without having that certain charisma.
Then Scott had wanted to visit the bar he’d heard Olivia mention
in so many of her stories.
“So, you’re a real cowboy?” Scott asked Jesse, as they sat at the
table at Lumberjacks.
Jesse nodded. “I guess.”
“He’s a champion bronc rider.”
Both men looked at her as she finished the sentence. Olivia
almost felt like she had to defend Jesse, even though he didn’t seem
to care what Scott, or anyone else, thought of him.
“Is that the barrel racing you were telling me about?”
Jesse scratched the back of his neck, the tattoo now fully
exposed, and Scott wrinkled his eyebrows, then looked at her. She
pretended not to notice.
Jesse didn’t contribute more than a few yeses and nos as Scott
rambled on about things she knew Jesse didn’t care about.
“We’re really working at getting a cleaner air Act.” Scott used his
hands while he talked, but Jesse looked as though he was in actual
pain, sitting there listening to him.
He was never exactly a chatterbox, but it had been five years,
and nothing! No calls, no texts, no letters. He’d literally ridden off
into the sunset, and now here he was, sitting across the table, when
she’d finally just got over him, and was happy!
“Wow, am I beat. Do you think we should head back?” She gave
an exaggerated yawn.
“Sure, Babe.” Scott put a hand on her thigh, and Jesse scooted
back his chair, scraping the floor as he rushed to stand up.
“I should get going.” He bolted away before they even had a
chance to say goodbye.
Once Jesse headed back to the bar, she knew it was only a
matter of time before Scott asked about the tattoo. It took less than
a minute.
“Does your cousin have the same tattoo as you?”
She didn’t know how to answer without confessing. “We rode
together a lot. You know, doing shows and stuff. It’s a common
tattoo among the horse community.”
She lied through her teeth.
When they left and returned back home, she feigned a
headache, and headed to bed. As she laid in the dark, she stared
out the window, thinking about the fact that Jesse Gunderson had
sat across the table from her, and all she wanted to do was kiss him.
Would it be the same?
 Now he lived only a few hundred feet away, and instead of
sleeping she looked out at the barn, remembering everything good
about the past. All the lights were out, and his truck was still gone.
Scott stayed in her Aunt Annie’s old bedroom. It faced the back,
along with her mother’s old room. Through the wall she could hear
Scott working, even though it was the middle of the night. She
hoped Maggie was asleep with her hearing aids out. The
farmhouse’s interior walls hadn’t seemed so thin before, but she
could hear him typing on his laptop when he wasn’t on his phone.
Tap, tap, tap, all night long.
Why was she so reluctant to tell Scott about Jesse?
She just had to get through the next few days, and everything
would get back to normal.

Just as he was about to pay his bill and leave, he spotted a familiar
face.
“Jesse?”
“Julia.” He couldn’t believe it. Julia Ryland had graduated the
same year, and was friends with him and Olivia. “Are you here to see
Olivia?”
Julia made a face. “Wow, Olivia’s back?”
Julia didn’t know Olivia was back? They’d been best friends
throughout high school. “Yeah. And she brought her boyfriend.”
Julia looked like this was all news to her. “Did you meet her
here?”
He shook his head, chuckling at the idea of wanting to hang out
with Mr. Politician. “No, I ran into them.”
“So, when did you get back?” She punched his arm lightly. “You
look great.”
He smiled. “You do, too.”
 She paused, then pointed to the stool next to him. “Anybody
sitting here?”
He shook his head. “No, take a seat. Let me grab you a drink.”
He held up two fingers at Billy, who nodded. Julia pulled her long
hair around one shoulder, her eyes warm and inviting.
“Are you back home for good?” she asked.
He shrugged. Billy dropped two whiskeys on the bar counter.
She took the drink and sipped it, her eyes on him over the rim.
By the time he returned to the barn, he and Julia had made a
date. He almost forgot Olivia and Mr. Congressman were staying in
the farmhouse until he saw them through the window, Olivia’s arm
wrapped around his waist. Scott leaned down and kissed her. Jesse
stood in the shadows of the barn as the snow fell down around him.
Mr. Congressman was kissing his girl.
He would get through the holidays at Lumberjacks.
He watched as Scott left the room and Olivia looked out the
window. At first he thought she had seen him, but her focus was on
the barn.
The girl of his dreams was only steps away, yet so very far.
The first time he met her, he couldn’t even make eye contact,
she was so beautiful and so out of his league. He was an
abandoned, homeless kid. Then one day she started talking to him,
and he just listened. She told him everything, and he began opening
up, about his mother, her drinking, her boyfriends, all of it. How
she’d died. How he found her. How big of a jerk his grandfather was.
How he searched for his father.
She told him about her parents’ divorce, and all her dreams.
Olivia had more dreams than anyone he had ever met. She was also
the only person he knew who’d actually followed through and lived
exactly what she had set out to. She had always wanted to go big –
Dartmouth, Brown, and on to Someone, Somebody and Something.
Now, a hotshot boyfriend.
She had it all.
 He looked out the window one last time and saw Olivia step
away, then the bedroom light went out. In the room next to hers, he
could see Scott pace back and forth, appearing to be talking on the
phone.
Jesse might be working at the ranch, but his real career, his real
dream, was over before he even knew it. Younger, stronger, and less
damaged riders were always coming up.
Olivia Meyer, attorney at law, would not want anything to do with
a washed-up cowboy.
No, Olivia Meyer already had everything she’d ever wanted.
 CHAPTER 3

O livia woke up early. Snow covered every surface with white,

and the sky was the bluest and brightest she’d ever seen. She
shaded her watering eyes against the sun.
There were two more days until Christmas, then they would be
heading back to Washington. Two more days. She could make it.
Besides, her brother Charlie was coming home from his first
semester today. He was the distraction she needed to get her mind
off Jesse. This whole trip was way more stressful than she’d
anticipated.
But she hadn’t anticipated Jesse.
Why had he suddenly quit the rodeo circuit? She’d googled and
found images of him holding trophies and riding on the backs of wild
horses. And his stats. His rankings had stayed strong over the years.
Jesse had walked away from her that day on the lakeshore and
never looked back. He’d never forwarded his information or replied
to her messages. She stopped trying after a year. She was just
rambling at that point. She had nothing more to say besides, I miss
you.
She got her running gear on and headed down to the kitchen.
“You going for a run?” Maggie asked from her chair. She was
reading the newspaper with her dogs flopped on the floor at her
feet.
 Olivia nodded, tying her shoes. “I’m going to run up to the
trestle.” She loved running in the snow. The cold air felt fresher, the
skies seemed bluer. The endless prairie rolled on in white waves,
twinkling in the sunlight.
“Be careful.”
“Will you tell Scott I’ll be back in a half hour?”
“Will do.” Maggie took a sip of her coffee.
Olivia turned on her music and tucked her phone into her fanny
pack. She stepped outside, inhaling a deep breath.
Swinging her arms to get the blood pumping, she started down
the driveway, trying with all her might not to glance toward the
barn. To pretend she didn’t even see it. She would visit Midnight
later, hopefully when Jesse wasn’t around.
She thought about the day ahead. She had lots of plans. She’d
convinced her mother and Sam to stay at the farmhouse when
Charlie arrived. Just like old times. Sam’s ranch was beautiful, but
nothing said Christmas to Olivia more than the farmhouse. It had
been her only shelter through some of her darkest years.
Her parents’ divorce had affected her more than anyone else. Her
whole world crumbled. Her heroes suddenly morphed into normal
people, people she sometimes didn’t even like. She never forgave
her father. Cheating on your spouse was beyond selfish, but
destroying your family in the process was unforgivable.
Yet she still loved him, and still craved his approval.
He’d called one afternoon and said, “There’s a firm down here in
Washington where I think you’d be a great fit.”
She didn’t even think about it. She left for Washington right after
graduation, and met Scott at an event she attended with her father.
“You’re Senator Meyer’s daughter?” He seemed pleasantly
surprised.
“And you’re Scott Schofield, US Rep for Connecticut. I just
reviewed the bill you introduced on the Medical Leave Act.”
He folded his arms against his chest. “What did you think?”
 She usually wasn’t asked her opinion about public policy. “Well, I
think it’s smart. It will help a lot of working families in crisis.”
“Yes!” He pointed at her. “That’s exactly what I want it to do.”
She was immediately attracted to the handsome state rep who
gave her his business card, then asked for hers. Now they had been
dating for more than a year, and she could tell he was going to pop
the question. She had, after all, been asked before.
Jesse first asked her when he was about to graduate from high
school.
“Come on, Olivia, don’t you want to be together?”
She had. He’d never understand just how much she had.
The old saying went, if you love something, set it free. If it
comes back, it was meant to be.
Jesse did come back.
And then they broke up again.
The cycle continued.
She walked out to the road, then changed her mind and decided
to run up to the ranch. As she’d expected, even on the day before
Christmas Eve, the place was bustling with activity. She thought she
was running away from the barn to get away from Jesse, but she
realized, as he stopped and looked at her from outside the bull barn,
that she’d run right to him.
“Olivia!”
She turned toward the voice to see her brother standing on the
porch. “Charlie!”
She ran to her younger brother. He was no longer a skinny kid.
He was tall and well-built, with a full beard.
“I thought you were dad, for a second.”
He shot her a look of disgust. “You thought I was a middle-aged
man?”
“No.” She hugged him. “You just sounded so old.”
“I haven’t been eight for a long time.” He was dressed in cowboy
fatigues – jeans and a long-sleeved button-up. “Where’s the
boyfriend?”
“At the farm.”
She shaded her eyes against the sun and tried to sneak a glance
at Jesse, who hooked his leg over a horse and rode off with the rest
of the crew.
“I see you and Jesse are communicating well,” Charlie smirked,
as she returned her attention to him.
“I can’t believe he’s back.”
“He’s always coming back.” Charlie looked out at the pasture.
“The real question is, why are you staying away?”

The workday didn’t end until the sun began to set in the west.
Winter sunsets were some of his favorites. Colors so majestic and
bright, reflecting off the pristine snow. The beauty could make a
grown man cry. At least, his father did. The old cowboy had turned
softer than a stick of butter in the summer sun. He’d been emotional
since Jesse came back.
“God gave me a second chance,” Ryan would often say.
Finding the ranch and being taken in by his uncle had been a
godsend. He’d never forget it. So, when Sam asked him to stick
around after his father’s recovery, he couldn’t refuse. “I need
someone to help watch the guys.”
Sam had been the Big Boss for more than thirty years. “What do
you mean, help? Is everything alright?”
“Of course, but Robert left last spring, and I haven’t found a guy
that I’m comfortable replacing him with. So, if you could kind of fill
in, in the meantime…”
Was he really doing a favor, or was this an act of charity? Did his
uncle think he was as big a loser as he thought himself to be?
 He rode through the pastures to the Four Corners, the highest
spot on the ranch. The pink and lavender sky was painted on the
snow around him.
“We’ll take it slow today,” Sam yelled over the moaning of the
cattle. “I’d like them over by the south range.”
Jesse steered his horse, Scout, toward the edge of the herd,
where a pair of cows drifted away from the main mass of cattle. He
clicked his tongue. “Let’s go, ladies.”
Scout’s maturity and brave nature allowed him to push the horse,
letting her boss around the one-ton cows. “Take it easy, girl.”
She wanted to run. He could almost feel a quiver in her muscles,
as if she was holding in her excitement. Scout loved the snow.
“You want to roll, don’t you?” He laughed at his silly girl. “Later,
okay?”
He patted her neck as he pulled back on the reins.
When they all returned to the barn, Ryan waited for him to come
inside. “You coming for dinner?”
Jesse nodded. “Sounds good.”
“We’re having everyone come… including the boyfriend.”
He sighed. “I figured.”
He’d never escape Olivia or her boyfriend as long as they were in
Prairie Valley.
He toyed with the idea of bowing out, but his father would be
disappointed, along with Rosie and the kids. His four younger
brothers liked to use him as their own personal jungle gym.
“Have you talked to her?” Ryan asked.
“I was there when she got in from the airport,” he reminded his
father.
“Yes, but did you talk?”
When Jesse didn’t answer, his father took the hint and walked off
into the office, leaning on his cane. Some of the crew were still
milling around there, before heading home.
Jesse headed back to the farm to wash up before dinner.
 When he pulled up to the barn, an unfamiliar car sat in the
driveway. Then Julia Ryland came walking out of the farmhouse with
Olivia.
“Jesse!” Julia waved as she stepped off the porch.
Jesse shot a look at Olivia as he waved at the two of them, but
Olivia turned and went back into the house, shutting the door
behind her.
“Hey,” he said, as Julia reached him. “Did you come to visit
Olivia?”
“Actually, I came to see you.” Her eyes were playful, and there
was no mistaking the look she was giving him.
He thought back to their last conversation at Lumberjacks. The
couple of drinks she’d had with him made her open up about her
relationship with Olivia.
“I told her I wanted to go out with you.” Her eyes dared him to
ask more.
He took the bait. “You wanted to ask me out?”
She took another sip of the whiskey. Julia was a beautiful woman
by any man’s standards. She was also successful, with a great job at
her father’s construction company. Jesse had never really considered
Julia as more than a friend, all those years ago.
Good thing it wasn’t all those years ago.
Olivia had had her chance to be with him. She was the one who’d
said no in the first place. If she still had a problem after all these
years, then that was her problem.
When he glanced back at the farmhouse, he saw Olivia peeking
through the window at them.
“What are you doing tonight?” he asked Julia, who shivered in
the cold.
A smile grew across her face. “Hanging out with you?”
He gestured toward the barn. “Why don’t you come up for a
glass of Christmas spirit.”
She put her hand on his forearm, softly squeezing. “I’d love to.”
 They headed inside the barn and toward the staircase door.
“So, you’re living up here?”
She waited as he opened the door, then looked up the stairwell
before climbing. Did Julia mind that he still didn’t have life figured
out? He was certain that Olivia did.
“Maggie’s letting me stay until I find a place.”
“You know, I could help,” she said, starting up the stairs. “My
dad’s got properties and rentals.”
Jesse hadn’t really thought of that. Even though he didn’t make
much, he’d saved enough from his winnings to afford a small house.
Maybe he should put some roots down. He watched Julia as she
walked around the small space, then settled on the couch.
“It’s cute.”
He went to the kitchen and grabbed the only alcohol he had. “Do
you mind whiskey?”
“If you put ice in it.” She leaned forward, resting her head on her
hand, twirling her hair with the other.
He knew she was flirting. But he also knew he was skating on
thin ice, and it might crack if he wasn’t careful. He poured the
double shot into a tumbler left over from Rosie’s days and handed it
to her. She swirled the amber liquid, clinking the rim against his
glass and shot it back, her eyes never leaving his.
He had just sat down with his own drink when he heard Olivia’s
voice outside. Julia leaned over to the window and peeked out. “I
always thought you two would end up getting married.”
He let out a single laugh. He had thought the same thing, once.
Now he saw how pathetic he had been. “That was a long time ago.”
“I guess I should’ve figured she’d fall for a senator.”
“A representative,” he corrected her.
She kept her eye out the window. “He certainly can’t ride a
horse.”
Jesse stood to get a look. In the ring, Olivia walked Midnight out
with Scott on his back. The horse nuzzled her neck, trying to get her
attention, not wanting to be treated like a show pony with some
strange guy on his back. But she kept going as Scott clutched the
reins. “Those cowboy boots sure do shine.”
“How do you like being back?” Julia asked, her attention
returning to him.
He sat down, wishing he could be a fly on the barn wall, thinking
back to the days when Olivia walked him around that ring.
Seventeen and lanky, completely unsure of himself. Riding saved
him, literally, and Olivia was the angel who brought horses into his
life. She was the one who saved his soul.
It was why he’d got the dang tattoo. He never wanted to forget
his connection with horses, or with her.
Yet Olivia, the one who lived and breathed for horses, the one
who’d begged for the permanent reminder, left him and Midnight
behind.
“It’s good to be back.” He heard Olivia’s laugh in the background,
mingled with Scott’s. He turned his full attention to Julia. “What are
you doing tonight, again?”

Olivia peeked through the kitchen window and watched as Julia

lightly touched Jesse’s hand. A playful touch, one that could be
passed off as friendly, but Olivia knew it was more.
In college, Julia had confessed her feelings after their last break
up.
“You’re in love with Jesse?” Olivia had asked through her tears.
“Yes.” Julia sat on Olivia’s bed. “And I’d really like to ask him out
on a date.”
Who would have thought that in the end, Julia might be the one
who ended up with Jesse’s heart, after all?
 God, was she selfish for wishing her closest old friend misery
when it came to her old boyfriend?
Why wouldn’t she want them to be happy? They had both been
her dearest friends at one time. Julia had helped her through
heartache over her parents, Jesse, school, and all the other teenage
drama they faced. They stuck together even through college, visiting
each other’s campuses, partying with each other’s college friends,
and spending holiday vacations together.
“I’m so sorry, Liv, but I’m not willing to keep sitting in the
shadows,” Julia had confessed. “I waited for you guys to figure
things out, and I’m not going to wait any longer.”
With her mind stuck back all those years ago, she didn’t hear
Scott coming into the room.
“Hey,” Scott said from behind.
“Ahh!” She jumped and flailed, almost hitting him. She slapped
her hand over her heart. “You scared me!”
Scott laughed, looking at the two figures in the driveway.
“Are those two together?” he asked.
She watched as Jesse gestured toward the barn. Julia linked her
arm with his as they walked inside.
“Not that I’m aware of.”
But her heart dropped. Were they together?
“So, we’re going to your aunt’s house?” Scott asked. “Soon?”
Scott stood in the doorway in designer jeans and flannel shirt.
She’d never seen him dress up for Halloween, but that’s exactly how
he looked. “Where did you get all this?”
She laughed as he put his hands on his hips. “J. Crew.”
She laughed. “You’ll totally fit in.”
“I think I look just like your cowboy family.” He hooked his
thumbs in his belt loops. “All I need is one of those fat belt buckles.”
“How did you figure out your Christmas gift?” she teased. The
dimple in his right cheek made her knees wobbly. Scott Schofield
might not be a cowboy, but he was as handsome as they came.
 He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “Tell me it has the
horse on it?”
“The horse?”
“Yeah, like your tattoo.” His forehead wrinkled at her. “You
know?”
“Oh, right!” She blushed. “Scott?”
“Yeah, Babe?” His attention turned to his pocket as he dug out
his phone. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding!”
He swiped his screen. “Tell me you talked to Senator Ashley
today?”
Olivia took a step back, not wanting to eavesdrop on the
conversation. Scott held up his finger, then said, “Look man, I’ve got
to go, but call me when you hear anything back.”
He put his phone back in his pocket. “I’m ready.”
“You know you don’t have to ride a horse, just because you’re
here.” She looked at him. “J. Crew isn’t going to give you magical
powers.”
“We’re going to go slow, right?” He shrugged. “I have good
balance. I’ve been snowboarding before.”
“You’re going to die,” she said with a straight face.
“I’m going to be just fine.” He put on his gloves, then the newly
purchased cowboy hat that he’d had shipped to the house.
“You have to listen to me,” she warned.
“Okay.” He clapped his gloved hands together. “Let’s do this.”
After three slow laps around the ring, Scott said he could no
longer feel his rear end.
“That takes a lot of core strength,” he said, as he shifted in the
saddle.
“You did better than I expected.” She was glad, too, especially
with Jesse and Julia spying on them from the apartment.
Scott looked up at the window.
“We’re going to Jesse’s mom and dad’s place?”
 “Well, yes and no.” She shook her head, leading Midnight to his
stall. “Ryan’s Jesse’s dad. My aunt Rosie is Jesse’s step-mother.”
Scott walked beside her. She could tell he was diagraming her
family tree in his head. Lineage was all-important to his Pilgrim
genes. “So, you’re not really Jesse’s cousin?”
He was doing just fine at figuring things out. She should probably
tell the truth right now. But the confession would make things even
more awkward. Besides, it wasn’t like their relationship still meant
anything to Jesse. He was bringing women up to his apartment
while she was staying right there on the farm.
No, she didn’t need to divulge any unnecessary information.
“And who else is going to be there?”
“My Aunt Annie and her family…” she listed off the names.
“Didn’t we have dinner with them last night?” he asked.
Olivia understood this. The Boudreau clan was a lot to take in.
“It’ll be nice, I promise.”
But as soon as they walked in the door of Aunt Rosie’s house,
she saw Jesse with Julia in a quiet corner, talking. As she entered,
removing her coat and boots and greeting everyone, he continued
on as if Jesse hadn’t noticed her, his full attention on Julia.
She didn’t have to guess whether something was going on
between the two of them.
 CHAPTER 4

Y es, Olivia was being ridiculous. Yes, she had brought her own
boyfriend home with her, a clear statement of the seriousness
of their relationship.
Still, she would never have expected Jesse’s I don’t care attitude.
When she found out he was back, she had kind of thought he might
confess his undying love, and that she’d have to let him down easy,
tiptoe around his broken heart.
Yet there he was, cozying up to her former best friend, practically
making out.
“They’re not making out,” Aunt Rosie said from the kitchen table,
where she was feeding the baby in his highchair.
“Have they been dating for a while?” Olivia couldn’t tell. She
peeked into the living room and saw Jesse’s head tilt as he stared
down at Julia. Guess she didn’t need to tiptoe.
“Why the jealousy?” Rosie asked, with a knowing smirk.
“It’s not like that,” Olivia lied, but then sighed. “It’s just that I
don’t know him at all anymore, is all.”
“Yeah, I guess you don’t.”
“I mean, he never even bothered to call, or keep in touch.”
Rosie raised her eyebrows as she scooped up a spoonful of
yogurt and looked at her son. “Do you want more?”
He slapped the tray in happy enthusiasm.
 “I just feel like this isn’t home anymore.”
“You’ve been gone a long time.” Rosie wiped baby Cooper’s
mouth with a napkin. “But this will always be your home.”
It was why she’d wanted to stay at the farm. It had always felt
more like home than anywhere she had ever lived. All her holiday
memories seemed linked to the farmhouse: lighting sparklers and
eating watermelon on the back porch, hanging Christmas lights,
handing out candy on Halloween. It was where she had learned how
to be herself.
But now, everything felt different.
“That’s when I met Olivia,” she heard Scott’s voice boom out.
He stood next to the stone fireplace, drinking a glass of red while
the men standing around him drank beer straight out of the bottle.
Her stepfather seemed to enjoy Scott enough to be engaged in
the conversation, even though she knew he could hardly stand her
father. None of the Gundersons could.
She looked for Jesse and Julia, and realized they weren’t there
anymore. She craned her neck, only to find Jesse right in front of
her.
“Jesse!” She jumped out of the doorway, letting him into the
kitchen.
“Hey.”
She pointed to the living room as Julia made her way toward
Scott. “You and Julia are cute together.”
He let out a short laugh. “Are we, now?”
He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Rosie stood,
sweeping the baby up in her arms and walking out of the kitchen.
“Let’s go say hi to everyone!”
Jesse grabbed two beers from the fridge. He lifted one up toward
her. “Want one?”
She shook her head. She hadn’t had a beer in years. “No,
thanks.”
 “He’s got you drinking wine?” The tone of his voice told her his
unconcerned attitude was a ruse, but it irritated her nonetheless.
“Scott actually enjoys the process of winemaking.”
“A connoisseur, is he?” One side of his lip curled up.
She nodded, knowing how lame she sounded. Jesse wouldn’t get
his feathers ruffled over a guy like Scott.
“He actually does a lot for the small-business farmers and
ranchers.” She knew she should just walk away instead of being a
brat, but his smirk made her want him to feel the same sting she’d
felt over Julia petting him at her family’s holiday dinner.
“He sounds amazing,” he said blandly.
She looked out toward Scott. “He is.”

Amazing.
Mr. Amazing could turn any story into a reason to talk about
himself. Mr. Amazing seemed to be successful in politics, and also at
getting everyone at the dinner table to eat up his line of bull.
“It’s sure nice to hear from someone in Washington who cares
about the environment,” his father said. “This world is all we have.”
Sam and Rosie nodded, and Olivia, who had turned to face him
with her whole body, hung on his every word.
“I met a guy in Texas who kept talking about the importance of
dirt,” Scott said. “I kept thinking, what does ranching have to do
with dirt?”
Jesse rolled his eyes. He knew where this guy was going.
“The grass the animals eat.” He cut Mr. Amazing off.
Scott’s smile showed humor, but there were daggers coming out
of Olivia’s eyes, and he smiled to himself. Boy, he knew how to get
to her.
It was almost too easy.
 “Yes!” Scott laughed. “Exactly that!” He picked up his glass of
wine. “I wish more ranchers understood that we’re not after their
cattle, just promoting cleaner, healthier food.”
The polite thing to do was to agree with Mr. Amazing. He had a
point. A lot of ranchers didn’t get involved with the Clean Air Act, or
any kind of environmental policy, because it didn’t fit their agenda. A
lot of times it meant higher taxes, more regulations, less control.
But Jesse just couldn’t hold his tongue.
“If Washington cared so much about the ranchers, then the
burden of keeping the air clean wouldn’t fall just on them. You guys
seem to want to push new laws and policies, but not to fund them.”
“Shoving your head into the dirt is not going to help either,” Olivia
snapped.
“Neither are the lobbyists who push agendas from people who
don’t care about ranchers or the environment,” Jesse spat.
Uncle Sam shot him a look that said, tone it down. Politics at the
dinner table was usually frowned upon. Only God and food were
allowed in this sacred space.
“Why don’t I get the dessert?” Rosie said, kicking him under the
table.
Scott nodded, completely unaware of the tension brewing. “I
completely understand. That’s why I hope to put more of the burden
on the businesses that are reaping the rewards from destroying our
air.”
Sam asked a softball question about his responsibilities to his
constituents. Rosie hissed at Jesse from the kitchen doorway.
“Come help me.” She wasn’t asking.
Jesse looked over at Julia, who had practically forgotten he was
there, she was so involved in the conversation.
“That’s really amazing,” Julia said.
Even the woman he’d brought to dinner thought Scott was
amazing.
“Can I get you anything?” he asked her.
 She smiled up at him. “No, thank you.”
“I’ll be right back.”
She watched him as he left, but so did Olivia, her eyes narrowed.
As soon as he entered the kitchen, Rosie turned to face him.
“What are you doing?”
“What do you mean?” He knew exactly what she meant.
Why did Olivia have this strange hold on him? Even after all
these years?
“Look, Olivia’s happy.” Rosie made a face. “I’m sure the two of
you will always have something, but you are embarrassing yourself
in front of Julia.”
His stepmother was right. He was being a donkey.
“I don’t mean to be a jerk.” He shrugged. “But I just can’t seem
to help it.”
“It’s only Christmas Eve tomorrow, which means we have a lot
more holiday ahead of us. Don’t go making things uncomfortable
between the two of you.”
He looked out at the dining room and could hear the murmurs of
conversations and laughter. “Okay, I promise to be good.”
“Good, now bring out these desserts.” Rosie handed him two
white pastry boxes as she picked up a stack of clean plates and
forks.
Olivia looked away as he set the boxes on either side of the
table.
“I’ll grab the coffee,” Olivia said, getting up.
Jesse followed her back into the kitchen.
Before he could apologize for his behavior, she spun around and
practically spat, “I expected this week to be uncomfortable, with us
forced to be around each other, but you’re being ridiculous.”
“What?” He blinked a few times as his anger rose. “You think I’m
jealous of Mr. Amazing out there?”
“Isn’t that why you brought Julia to dinner?”
Another random document with
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covered in 1898. Therefore it is indispensable that M. Ravary be
heard, and I shall have the honor to make a motion to that effect.”
The Judge.—“I have received a letter from General Mercier, in which
he says that the prosecution of M. Zola deals only with the Esterhazy
verdict, with which he had nothing do. He says that he has received
from General Billot an authorization not to appear.”
M. Labori.—“I am greatly surprised that General Mercier, like so
many others, should constitute himself judge of the question whether
it is incumbent upon him to appear before the court. The minister of
war may confine his complaint within limits, but he has no right as
complainant to pursue the shocking and monstrous course of
interposing an obstacle, not juridical, but material to the facts that we
wish to establish. General Mercier is a witness of the first
importance. Perhaps he will read tomorrow in the newspapers what
has occurred at this first hearing, which is given in the presence, not
of fifteen hundred persons simply, but of all France. M. Zola declares
that in 1894 General Mercier, then minister of war, constituting
himself judge in a council of war, did, after the hearing was over,
outside of the discussion, without the knowledge of the accused,
without examination of the accused upon the matter, and without
even submitting it to his counsel, communicate to the council of war
a secret document, and a document, for that matter, of no
significance. If that is not true, let General Mercier come here
tomorrow and say so. If it is true, I have no further use for him.”
The judge then announced that Major Rivals and the court clerk,
Vallecalle, had notified him that they would not appear.
M. Labori.—“The complainant is represented here by the attorney-
general. We should like him to inform us whether the minister of war
has given to all these witnesses, as to General Mercier, an
authorization which to them would have been more than an
authorization,—that is, an order. If the attorney-general does not
know, I would like him to put the question to the minister of war
between now and tomorrow, in order to give us an answer.”
M. Zola.—“In short, we should like to know whether these persons
have received orders from Billot, or are acting on their own initiative.”
M. Labori.—“Have they been ordered not to come? If so, let it be
stated frankly, and the court tomorrow will pass upon our motion,
which possibly will ask for a postponement of the case, in order that
it may be judged when we are in full possession of the facts.”
M. Albert Clemenceau.—“The president of the republic refused to
sign the decree of the minister of justice summoning M. Billot; then
M. Billot authorized General Mercier not to appear in the assize
court. Knowing the beginning of the story, we are interested in
knowing the sequel, and I ask the attorney-general to inform us at
the next hearing if the other officers, of a lower grade than that of
General Mercier, have likewise been authorized by their superiors
not to appear in court. If so, I may be permitted to express my
astonishment that there has not been found a person in all this
hierarchy to understand that there is one thing which is above the
minister of war,—namely, justice. We thought so until today.”
The court then presented the refusals of Colonel Maurel, president of
the council of war of 1894, M. Autant, architect, and M. Eichmann,
who sat in the first council of war; and the defence, as in the
previous cases, insisted upon their appearance.
The Judge.—“A letter from General de Boisdeffre reads as follows: ‘I
do not need to tell you that, out of respect to the jury and deference
to the court, I would willingly appear, but I have been in no way
connected with the Esterhazy case, which was conducted entirely by
the military government of Paris. Outside of professional secrecy,
therefore, I could furnish no useful information.’”
M. Labori.—“All these witnesses seem to imagine that they
constitute a caste apart and independent, and that it is permissible to
them to rise above the law, above justice itself, and personally
constitute themselves judges of the question whether they are useful
or not as witnesses in a trial. Consequently in the case of General de
Boisdeffre, as in the other cases, we insist and we protest.”
M. Albert Clemenceau.—“We are a little at sea. In the letters read,
some witnesses declare that they will not come because they know
certain facts, while others, like M. de Boisdeffre, declare that they will
not come because they do not know any facts in this case. We do
not know which of these two observations is sound, but it is
impossible for both of them to be. It is interesting also to the jurors to
know that former cabinet ministers, who are by no means the first
comers, MM. Guérin and Trarieux, former keepers of the seals, and
M. Raymond Poincaré, former minister of finance, have responded
to the summons. It is certain that they would have had nothing to
fear, if they had written to the court that they could not come. These
former cabinet ministers come; yet among the military officers we
cannot get a single witness. I believe it is well for the jurors to
remember that.”
The court announcing that ex-President Casimir-Perier would
appear, the defence withdrew its motion for his further summons. But
M. Labori then offered a formal motion that MM. d’Ormescheville,
Ravary, General Mercier, Patron, Vallecalle, Maurel, Autant,
Eichmann, de Boisdeffre, and Captain de Comminges be forcibly
constrained to appear. And he submitted a further motion that Mlle.
Blanche de Comminges be constrained to appear, unless it should
be found that her illness was genuine, and that, in the latter case, a
commission should be appointed to visit her and ask her the
following questions:
(1) Is she aware that her name has been used in writing to
Colonel Picquart?
(2) How did she become aware of it?
(3) Did she not give the nickname “demigod” to Captain
Lallement?
(4) Does she know whether this name was used in a telegram
which is said to have been a forgery?
(5) Had Colonel du Paty de Clam any reason for entertaining a
revengeful feeling toward her and her family?
(6) Is it not within her knowledge that he resorted in 1892 to very
serious manœuvres, notably the employment of anonymous
letters?
(7) Was not this matter put in the hands of M. Lozé, prefect of
police, and did not General D—— have to intervene?
 (8) Did not Colonel du Paty de Clam arrange, for the restitution of
a letter, a scene that took place at cours la Reine, in which a
veiled lady appeared?
After hearing these motions, the court adjourned for the day.

Second Day—February 8.
The second day’s hearing began at half past twelve with the
announcement of the court that, before proceeding to the hearing of
the witnesses, there were new excuses to be read. The first was
from Major Esterhazy, who wrote as follows:
I have been accused by M. Mathieu Dreyfus of the crime of high
treason, and my judges have acquitted me by a unanimous
decree of the council of war. Today I receive, at the instance of a
simple individual, M. Emile Zola, a summons to appear as a
witness in his trial in the assize court. It is plain, on the other
hand, that in this trial the object of M. Zola is at the same time to
revise by a revolutionary method the decree of acquittal rendered
in my favor, and to sully, by representing them as criminals, the
judges whom I respect. Such is the work in which M. Emile Zola
invites me to participate. Under such circumstances I consider
that I am not obliged to respond to M. Zola’s summons.
M. Labori.—“Major Esterhazy was present yesterday. It does not
become me to inquire what suggestions he obeys today. I have not
consulted M. Emile Zola, but I can say this for myself: it was a feeling
of high discretion that led us to summon Major Esterhazy. He will not
be here as an accused person, since he has been acquitted, and we
consider his case a thing judged. But we have a right to the
testimony of Major Esterhazy for the purpose of proving M. Zola’s
good faith. Major Esterhazy refuses. So be it. I do not insist. We will
discuss his rôle without him.”
M. Albert Clemenceau.—“Pardon me. For my part, I do not give up
his testimony. I have some questions to put to Major Esterhazy in the
name of the gérant of ‘L’Aurore.’ I demand that he be summoned
again, and, if need be, forced to come.”
The next letter was from a widow Chapelon, who declared herself
afflicted with influenza.
M. Albert Clemenceau.—“Mme. Chapelon appeared at the office of
‘L’Aurore’ a week ago; it was after she had been notified. She asked
that her name be struck from the list of witnesses. She was asked
why. She replied that she was soliciting for her son a scholarship at
Chaptal, and that, if she were to testify, they would not give it to her.
M. Perrenx informed her that this was not a good reason, and that
she was required to come to the assize court and tell the truth. She
went away, slamming the doors, and saying: ‘If you force me to
come, I will tell the opposite of the truth.’ I insist that this witness
shall come, and I demand that, as in the case of Major Esterhazy,
she be brought to court after a second summons.”
The Judge.—“There is a doctor’s certificate.”
M. Clemenceau.—“I ask that an expert physician be sent to her. The
one who is to see Mme. de Boulancy can see her too.”
The court then rendered its decision on the motions of the day
before, ordering that Dr. Socquet be sent to examine Mme. de
Boulancy, Mlle. Blanche de Comminges, M. Autant, and the widow
Chapelon, and that a second summons be served upon Captain
Lebrun-Renault, Lieutenant-Colonel du Paty de Clam, Major
d’Ormescheville, Major Ravary, General Mercier, MM. Patron,
Vallecalle, Maurel, Eichmann, General de Boisdeffre, and Major
Esterhazy, directing them to appear on February 9.

Testimony of Mme. Dreyfus.

The calling of the witnesses was then begun, the first to take the
stand being Mme. Lucie Dreyfus, wife of ex-Captain Dreyfus.
M. Labori.—“I would like Mme. Dreyfus to have the goodness to tell
us what she thinks of M. Zola’s good faith, and in this connection to
make known to us under what circumstances in 1894 she learned of
her husband’s arrest, and what was the attitude at that time of
Colonel du Paty de Clam, who was then only a major.”
The Judge.—“What has that to do with the case?”
M. Labori.—“It concerns M. Zola’s good faith.”
M. Zola.—“I ask to be allowed here the liberty that is accorded
thieves and murderers. They can defend themselves, summon
witnesses, and ask them questions; but every day I am insulted in
the street; they break my carriage windows, they roll me in the mud,
and an unclean press treats me as a bandit. I have the right to prove
my good faith, my probity, my honor.”
The Judge.—“Do you know Article 52, of the law of 1881?”
M. Zola.—“I do not know the law, and at the present moment I do not
want to know it. I appeal to the probity of the jurors. I make them
judges of the situation in which I am placed, and I entrust myself to
them.”
The Judge.—“I remind you of the terms of the decree rendered
yesterday by the court, the provisions of Article 52 of the law of
1881, and the terms of your summons. Let us not depart therefrom.
Any question outside of these limits will not be put by me. Let that be
well understood. It is useless to recur to the matter.”
M. Zola.—“I ask to be treated here as well as thieves and murderers.
All accused persons are entitled to prove their probity, their good
faith, and their honor.”
M. Labori.—“Will you permit me to point out the bearing of my
questions? M. Zola has made two assertions. He has asserted that
the council of war of 1894 convicted, in the person of ex-Captain
Dreyfus, an innocent man by illegal methods.”
The Judge.—“He is not prosecuted for that.”
M. Labori.—“Pardon me, he is prosecuted for having said that the
second council of war knowingly acquitted a guilty man by covering,
in obedience to orders, the illegality committed by the first.”
M. Zola.—“It is in the summons.”
M. Labori.—“M. Zola asks to prove this illegality, and the elements
out of which it grew, from the standpoint of his good faith. This
illegality is not confined to the moment of the verdict of the council of
war, but extends over the very period of inquiry in which occurred
facts of the highest gravity which M. Zola asks to produce. If the
court considers that Mme. Dreyfus can not be heard on this point, I
shall be obliged to offer a motion.”
The Judge.—“Offer your motion. The question will not be put by me.”
M. Clemenceau.—“I ask to make a simple observation, addressed
especially to the jurors. I am of the opinion that the law must be
complied with, whatever it may be. But I beg you to remember,
gentlemen of the jury, that M. Zola has written an article which fills
sixteen pages of the pamphlet in my hands. Out of these sixteen
pages the public prosecutor, at the order of the minister of war,
complains of only fifteen lines, and, when we come to court, it
transpires that, in spite of a judicious selection of fifteen lines from
sixteen pages, the prosecution is still embarrassed by one of these
fifteen lines. They tell us in these fifteen lines there are still six which
must be put aside, because, were we to leave them there,
embarrassing evidence would be put in.”
The Judge.—“I repeat that no question will be put which would be a
means of arriving at the revision of a case sovereignly judged.”
M. Clemenceau.—“Then the court will put no question concerning
good faith?”
The Judge.—“Concerning anything that relates to the Dreyfus case.
No. Offer your motions. I repeat that I will not put the question.”
M. Labori.—“Will you permit me, Monsieur le Président, in our
common interest, to ask you, then, what practical means you see by
which we may ascertain the truth?”
The Judge.—“That does not concern me.”
M. Labori then made a formal motion that, whereas the matters upon
which the testimony of Mme. Dreyfus was required bore directly
upon the matters expressly set out in the complaint, and especially
upon the illegality charged, and whereas the defendants maintained,
in spite of the court’s decree, the right to prove their good faith, and
whereas the refusal to hear the witnesses summoned would
constitute the highest violation of the defendants’ rights, the court
order the following questions to be put to Mme. Dreyfus:
(1) What do you think of M. Zola’s good faith?
(2) What are the reasons that have led you to believe in his good
faith?
(3) Do you consider from what you know that the measures taken
against your husband were legal or illegal?
(4) Will you describe the first visit of Major du Paty de Clam at
your house? Who were present?
(5) Did not M. du Paty de Clam utter the grossest insults against
your husband?
(6) Did he not pretend to demonstrate his guilt geometrically and
by drawing concentric circles?
(7) Did he not speak of the Iron Mask?
(8) Did he not expressly forbid you to speak of the arrest to
anyone whomsoever, even to his family?
(9) After how long a time were you allowed the right to write to
your husband?
(10) After how long a time did you again see your husband?
(11) Did not M. du Paty de Clam say to you: “He denies, but I
shall succeed in making him spit out all that he has in his body”?
(12) Did not M. du Paty de Clam nevertheless lead you to hope
that perhaps there had been an error, and that up to November?
(13) Did not M. du Paty de Clam try, by the most irregular means,
and even by insidious means, to tear confessions from you
throughout the trial and after the verdict?
(14) What do you think of your husband’s character and morals?
What was the nature of your life with him after your marriage?
(15) Did not your husband steadily declare, during the trial and
after, that this whole matter was incomprehensible, and that he
 was the victim of a conspiracy?
The reading of these questions being received with a hostile
manifestation from those present in the court-room, M. Labori turned
to the audience, and shouted: “If you think you can prevent me from
doing my duty, you are mistaken. I am embarrassed only when I am
applauded. Let them howl! It is all one to me.”
The Attorney-General.—“I simply call attention to this,—that these
incidents are rehearsed before the audience, but they are always the
same, and that the jurors whom you have just addressed will
remember that you have for the thing judged yesterday the same
respect that you have for the thing judged on a previous occasion. I
said at the beginning that a plan had been fixed upon; it is being
carried out, and you have just given us the formula: ‘I do not know
the law, and I do not want to know it.’ Well, we know it, and we will
see that it is respected, with the aid of the jurors, in whom I have
absolute confidence.”
M. Labori.—“M. Zola will answer in a moment, and it is to assure him
the means of doing so that I take the floor.”
The Judge.—“Take it once for all, and do not renew this scene with
each witness.”
M. Labori.—“Pardon me, I am much grieved if the line of conduct
which I follow is in any way inconvenient or disagreeable to anyone
whomsoever. But I know very well that it is dictated to me by a
conviction so profound and a resolution so fixed that nothing,
nothing, shall force me to deviate from it by a line. That said, I
answer the attorney-general in a word. The attorney-general, who,
after a firm and energetic beginning, preserved a profound silence
throughout the last part of yesterday’s hearing” ...
The Attorney-General.—“To the point of self-denial.”
M. Labori.—“To the point of self-denial, ... rises today to tell us that
we are confronted with a fixed plan, and that the same incidents,
starting from the same preconceived idea, are being rehearsed. Very
well, but the plan that we have fixed is the plan that leads to the light.
There is another plan which is being rehearsed at the other side of
the bar,—the plan which leads to obscurity and darkness. Reference
has been made to the thing judged. We respect it. We respect the
thing judged yesterday, but between that and the other the difference
is that the thing judged yesterday was legally judged, and that the
other was judged illegally.”
M. Zola.—“Gentlemen of the jury, to you will I address myself. I am
not an orator, I am a writer; but unfortunately” ...
The Judge.—“You should address the court.”
M. Zola.—“I ask your pardon. I thought that I had permission to
address the jurors. But I will address myself to you. What I have to
say will be as well said. I am a writer; I am not accustomed to public
speaking; moreover, I am an extremely nervous being, and am liable
to use words that ill express my thought. Undoubtedly I have
expressed it ill, since I have been misunderstood. I am quoted as
saying that I have placed myself above the law. Did I say that?”
M. Labori.—“You said: ‘I have not to know the law at this moment.’”
M. Zola.—“I meant to say, at any rate, that I do not revolt against this
grand idea of the law. I submit to it completely, and from it I expect
justice. I meant to say that my revolt was against the processes that
find expression in all these quibbles raised against me, against the
way in which I am prosecuted, against the limitation of the complaint
to fifteen lines from my long letter of accusation; and these things I
declare unworthy of justice. I say that these few lines are not to be
taken and passed upon without regard to all that I have said. A
writing is consecutive; phrases lead to phrases, ideas lead to ideas;
and to fix upon a single thing therein because it brings me under the
law is, I say, unworthy. That is what I say, and that is what I meant. I
do not place myself above the law, but I am above hypocritical
methods.”
M. Labori.—“Bravo!”
The Attorney-General.—“So, M. Labori, you give the signal for these
bravos?”
M. Labori.—“It is true, I said ‘Bravo;’ but frankly, it was the cry of my
conscience.”
M. Albert Clemenceau.—“There is one point beyond dispute,—that
we are authorized to prove that M. Zola has accused the council of
war of having committed an illegality. Well, I ask you how it is
possible for us to prove this, if we do not begin by establishing that
an illegality has been committed.”
The court denied the motion of M. Labori, and the second witness
was called,—M. Leblois, a lawyer of the appellate court.

Testimony of M. Leblois.

The Judge.—“M. Labori, what question do you desire me to put to

the witness?”
M. Labori.—“Will you ask M. Leblois at what date and under what
circumstances he came into possession of the facts now within his
knowledge concerning the Esterhazy case?”
The court interposing no objection, M. Leblois made the following
statement:
“I have been for many years the friend of Colonel Picquart. We made
all our studies together, and we have remained faithful to this
friendship. In 1890 Colonel Picquart was made professor in the
School of War, and since then I have seen him more or less
frequently. Then he entered the war department, to which he had
already been attached for several years, and finally, about the middle
of 1895, if I am not mistaken, he was appointed chief of the bureau
of information. It would have been natural at that time for him to
consult me occasionally upon the legal difficulties that he met, since I
was his intimate friend and had belonged to the magistracy for ten
years. Nevertheless he spoke to me of only two cases,—a case of
criminal procedure that was under way at Nancy, and a batch of
documents relating to carrier pigeons, which was nothing but a
collection of ministerial decrees upon that question. When, on
November 16, 1896, Colonel Picquart was suddenly obliged to quit
the war department, he had never said a word to me, either of the
Dreyfus case or of the Esterhazy case, and I was absolutely
unaware that he was concerning himself with either of them. All who
know Colonel Picquart will not be astonished at this reserve.
“In June, 1897, I received a visit from Colonel Picquart, who had
come to pass a fortnight’s leave of absence in Paris. On June 3, he
had received at Sousse a threatening letter, which had been written
to him by one of his former subordinates, and thus he found himself
under the necessity of consulting a lawyer. For purposes of his
defence he made known to me some of the facts in the cases of
Dreyfus and Esterhazy. I say, gentlemen, some of the facts, for
Colonel Picquart never revealed to me any military secret, in that
sense of the term secret in which it is employed in military language.
Colonel Picquart had become convinced of the innocence of Captain
Dreyfus, and he explained to me the facts upon which his conviction
rested. I had too much confidence in his intelligence and honesty not
to admit the materiality of the facts that he made known to me, and
from them I came to the same conclusion that he had arrived at. I
was profoundly disturbed by what I had just learned, for I not only
deplored the possibility of so grave an error, and the submission to
undeserved torture of a man who seemed to be innocent, but I was
anxious lest such revelations might agitate the country; and so I
determined to exercise the greatest prudence.
“First, I collected all the information that I could procure. I consulted
certain persons who had been familiar with other facts, making my
study more precise by reading documents published in 1896. I
gathered information as to the Dreyfus family, and as to Captain
Dreyfus, whom I did not know, and finally I studied the various
questions of law to which the case might give rise. In the course of
these inquiries I learned that M. Scheurer-Kestner had been
concerning himself with the Dreyfus case for a year, and had
collected facts of some interest. About the same time I met M.
Scheurer-Kestner at a dinner, and an interview was arranged
between us for a subsequent day. When he found that I was in
possession of important information, he urged me strongly to tell him
more. He was so insistent, and showed so keen anxiety, that I could
not refrain from enlightening him more completely. My original plan,
the only one that seemed possible to me, was to promptly put the
government in possession of the facts that I had learned through
Colonel Picquart. M. Scheurer-Kestner, vice-president of the senate,
seemed to me the best person that I could find through whom to
approach the government. For these reasons I thought it my duty to
yield to M. Scheurer-Kestner’s solicitations, and I gave him the
desired enlightenment. Especially I spoke to him of letters that
General Gonse had written to Colonel Picquart. M. Scheurer-Kestner
begged me to show him these letters immediately, and he
accompanied me to my house to get them. From that moment he
was convinced of the innocence of Dreyfus, and his conviction has
never since been shaken. He will never abandon the cause that he
has undertaken.
“Meanwhile, the vacation season was approaching, and it seemed
very difficult to institute proceedings at that time. It seemed to me
that an affair of this sort should not be entered upon, unless there
was a possibility of pursuing it to the end. Furthermore, M. Scheurer-
Kestner deemed it necessary to have in his hands certain material
proofs which both he and I lacked,—proofs in the shape of examples
of Major Esterhazy’s handwriting, which was supposed to be
identical with that of the bordereau. Nevertheless, I thought it my
duty to submit to M. Scheurer-Kestner at that moment the idea of
presenting to the keeper of the seals a petition for the cancellation of
the verdict of 1894, because it seemed to me a settled fact that a
secret document had been communicated to the judges, and that
consequently the judgment was void. M. Scheurer-Kestner thought
that it was too early to take such a step in the absence of material
proofs. He made arrangements to get examples of Major Esterhazy’s
handwriting as soon as possible, and toward the end of July started
on his vacation. In the course of the following months he succeeded
in procuring examples of Major Esterhazy’s handwriting, and, on
returning to Paris, he entered into communication with the
government. Concerning that, he will testify himself. For my part, I
have nothing more to say upon this point. Nevertheless I add that,
when M. Scheurer-Kestner made his interpellation in the senate on
November 7, 1897, it seemed to him that this should be the end of
his personal participation in the matter. In fact, the declarations of the
government pointed to an honest and full investigation, and it did not
seem to M. Scheurer-Kestner that there was any occasion for him to
interfere in the working-up of a criminal case. So about Christmas
time he thought himself entitled to take a few days’ rest, of which he
was in great need.
“At that moment I had been informed by Colonel Picquart of the
conspiracies against him,—conspiracies of extreme gravity, the most
serious and important point of which is found in two telegrams
addressed to him from Paris on November 10, 1897, and reaching
him at Sousse, the first on November 11, the second on November
12 in the morning. These telegrams were forgeries. It seemed plain
that they could not have been drawn up, except upon information
emanating from the bureau of information, and this it would be easy
to demonstrate; but Colonel Picquart will demonstrate it better than I.
As the jury and the court will see, this was a new incident in an
extremely serious matter, since these telegrams were dated
November 10, 1897. Nevertheless it was a conspiracy which had
long been in preparation, for in December, 1896, false letters had
been addressed to the minister of war signed with the same name,
‘Speranza,’ that appeared at the foot of the two telegrams of
November 10, 1897. It seemed to me it was my first duty to inform
the government of this situation. But, having with the government no
easy and direct means of communication, I asked M. Trarieux,
senator and former keeper of the seals, whom I had met several
times at the house of a friend, and who, moreover, had taken part in
the senate discussion of M. Scheurer-Kestner’s interpellation, to give
me the benefit of his sanction by acting as an intermediary between
myself and the government. He will tell you what steps he took. For
my part I could do but one thing,—lodge, on behalf of my client, a
complaint with the government attorney, which complaint is under
examination by M. Bertulus, who has already taken the deposition of
Mlle. Blanche de Comminges.
“I said just now that Lieutenant-Colonel Picquart suddenly left the
war department on November 16, 1896, on the eve of the Castelin
interpellation in the chamber of deputies. His friends were unaware
of his departure, and I in particular went several times, and during
several weeks, to see him, and failed to find him. One of his friends
wrote to the minister of war a letter which should be among the
documents in the hands of M. Bertulus, and which, at any rate,
constitutes one of the papers in the investigations made by General
de Pellieux and Major Ravary. This letter was insignificant, but in it
there was a brief allusion to a personage who, in the salon of Mlle.
de Comminges, had been nicknamed the ‘demigod.’ The letter
contained this sentence: ‘Every day the demigod asks Mme. the
Countess [that is Mlle. de Comminges] when he will be able to see
the good God.’ In this circle, where Colonel Picquart was very
popular, he was known as ‘the good God,’ and the name ‘demigod’
had been given to a certain Captain Lallement, who was the orderly
of General des Garet, commanding the sixteenth army corps at
Montpellier. This letter was intended for Colonel Picquart, but
reached him only after it had been secretly opened and copied at the
war department. The following month there came to the bureau of
information a letter which was intercepted entirely, and of which no
knowledge came to Colonel Picquart. This letter is surely the work of
a forger. It is signed ‘Speranza.’ That was the beginning, in
December, 1896, of the attempt to compromise Lieutenant-Colonel
Picquart. The existence of the second letter was concealed for more
than a year, and he learned of it for the first time in the course of
General de Pellieux’s investigation. But it was made the basis of all
the conspiracies for the ruin of this officer. Be not astonished, then,
that last November, when this matter came to public attention and
enlisted the interest of parliament, new conspiracies came to light. In
the evening of November 10, 1897, two telegrams started from Paris
together. The first read thus: ‘Stop, demigod. Affair very serious.
Speranza.’ From this telegram it seemed that the demigod must be a
very important personage, probably a political personality, perhaps
M. Scheurer-Kestner. The second telegram read: ‘We have proofs
that the dispatch was manufactured by Georges. Blanche.’ This
second telegram, which was evidently a part of the same conspiracy
to which the first belonged, tended to destroy the authenticity, and
consequently the force as evidence, of a certain dispatch on which
rested the investigation opened by Colonel Picquart in the spring of
1896 concerning Major Esterhazy. Thus they endeavored to
represent Colonel Picquart as the tool of a politician and the author
of a forgery. I should add that it is certain that Colonel Picquart was
not acquainted with M. Scheurer-Kestner, and that he had no
communication with him, direct or indirect. As for the charge of
forgery brought against Colonel Picquart, it has been completely
abandoned, for, although there were some insinuations to that effect
in Major Ravary’s report, Colonel Picquart recently appeared before
a council of inquiry, and among the things with which he was
reproached there was not the slightest allusion to the possibility of a
forgery in the case of the document in question.”
The Judge.—“What do you know about it?”
M. Leblois.—“Monsieur le Président, I know it in the most certain and
natural way, because I was myself a witness before the council of
inquiry.”
The Judge.—“Were you there throughout the hearing?”
M. Leblois.—“No, but I have knowledge of the facts with which the
colonel was reproached.”
The Judge.—“You say that you have knowledge of them, but you do
not know them of your own knowledge, since you were not there.”
M. Labori.—“Permit me to observe, Monsieur le Président, that the
witnesses should have the advantage of the right to give their
testimony without being interrupted, according to the terms of Article
315 of the code of criminal examination. I claim this right for M.
Leblois. As to the fact which he affirms, the question is not how he
knows it, but whether it is true.”
The Judge.—“Permit me, Maître Labori; I suppose that the court is
entitled to question witnesses.”
M. Labori.—“It is not entitled to interrupt them.”
The Judge.—“I did not interrupt M. Leblois. I asked him for
indications on a point which it is necessary to throw light upon. I will
continue to do so, rest assured.”
M. Labori.—“I do not pretend to discuss with you the duties of the
judge of the assize court. You know them better than I do. I add that I
am ready to render homage to the great impartiality with which you
endeavor to direct the debate. But, on the other hand, this is a matter
in which it is impossible for us to part with the smallest particle of our
rights. They deprive us here of all the faculties that they can deprive
us of. We are here face to face with testimony which is entitled to be
heard; we ask that it shall be heard freely and independently. Now,
Article 315 of the code of criminal examination authorizes witnesses
to give their testimony without interruption, without prejudice to the
right of the court to ask them, after their deposition, whatsoever
questions it sees fit.”
The Judge.—“That is what I have just done.”
M. Labori.—“The deposition of M. Leblois is not finished. He was in
the course of it when you interrupted him.”
The Judge.—“Pardon, M. Leblois had finished. I asked him a
question to throw light upon his deposition.”
M. Leblois.—“I will answer you in the clearest fashion. In the first
place, I declare that I know that Colonel Picquart was asked but four
questions. As to the source of this knowledge, I do not think that I am
bound to give it, and for a good reason; I am Colonel Picquart’s
lawyer.”
The Judge.—“You should have said so at the beginning.”
M. Leblois.—“I did say so.”
The Judge.—“I did not hear it.”
M. Leblois.—“I said just now that I was first introduced to this affair in
June, 1897, when Colonel Picquart came to ask my aid and
protection against written threats that he had received on June 3
from one of his former subordinates. It was for purposes of his
defence that Colonel Picquart related to me a portion of the facts, but
not those concerning military secrets, and it was for purposes of his
defence that he gave me General Gonse’s letters. I consider that you
are now reassured as to the source of my information.
“I add that nothing is easier than to establish materially the proof of
what I have just said, for information telegraphed by a provincial
agency on February 2, and not contradicted since by any newspaper
or otherwise, specifies the points raised in the debate before the
council of inquiry. Furthermore, Colonel Picquart has received, in
conformity with military regulations, a clear notification of the
questions concerning which he was examined. In fact, if a single
question is to be put in a council of inquiry, the law requires that the
person to be questioned shall receive a notice of the points on which
the discussion will turn. Then Colonel Picquart, being in possession
of such notice, emanating from the reporter in the case, is clearly in
a position to prove what I have just said.”
M. Albert Clemenceau.—“Permit me to ask a question. Just now the
witness said this second letter, which was a forgery, was so drawn
up as to prove that it emanated from a personage familiar with the
documents of the war offices. But the witness did not explain this
declaration. I should like to ask him what there was in this letter that
enables him to make this declaration, and to say that it came from
the war offices.”
M. Leblois.—“I prefer not to give any explanations in regard to this
letter, for I should run a risk of altering the version that you will soon
hear from Colonel Picquart. [Laughter.] I think there is some
misunderstanding. I said that the text of the two telegrams was a
certain proof that they emanated from a man familiar with all the
secrets of the war department, but I can say that only of the
telegrams, because I have seen them and am in possession of their
text. I cannot speak so certainly of a letter which I have not seen,
and concerning which I have only information.”
M. Labori.—“From the standpoint of the conspiracies to which M.
Leblois has referred, what was the bearing of the false letter
intercepted in the war offices?”
M. Leblois.—“I said just now that I considered this false letter signed
‘Speranza’ another stone on which to erect, little by little, the edifice
of the conspiracies against Colonel Picquart. Regarding the two
telegrams, must I give details?”
The Judge [hastily].—“No.”
M. Labori.—“Monsieur le Président, we are very desirous that he
should.”
The Judge [sadly].—“Since the defence demands it, speak.”
M. Leblois.—“The following telegram: ‘We have proofs that the
dispatch was manufactured by Georges. Blanche,’ suggests to me
this reflection: Who, outside of the war department, could then know
that an inquiry was in progress concerning Major Esterhazy, and
especially that the basis of this inquiry was a dispatch? That was an
absolute secret. The two telegrams of which I have spoken were not
the only elements of this complicated plot against Colonel Picquart.
There were many other telegrams sent by third parties. For instance,
an individual sent from Paris a telegram signed ‘Baron Keller’ and
addressed to a pretended Baroness Keller at Sousse. All these
telegrams were intended to compromise Colonel Picquart. The two
which I have cited are the only ones that reached him, but they are
only the centre of a very complicated network. He referred to all of
this in an article in ‘La Libre Parole’ of November 16, 1897.”
M. Labori.—“M. Leblois has told us that Colonel Picquart left the war
department November 16, 1896. Could he tell us what was the
attitude of his superiors, and especially of General Gonse, toward
him at that time? Did Colonel Picquart go in disgrace, and how has
he been treated since, up to the time of his recall to Paris, under
circumstances with which the jurors must be familiar, at the
beginning of the Esterhazy inquiry?”
M. Leblois.—“Colonel Picquart’s superiors behaved toward him in
the most kindly manner throughout his inquiry concerning Major
Esterhazy,—an inquiry which began toward the end of spring and
continued until September. According to Colonel Picquart, it was not
until the moment had come for a decision in this matter that a
difference of opinion was revealed between his superiors and
himself. This difference did not assume an acute form at first. In the
beginning it was simply an exchange of opposite views, such as
often takes place between inferiors and superiors. The solution of
the matter, clearly stated in a letter from Colonel Picquart bearing
date of September 5, 1896, remained in suspense until November,
1896. At that moment things were growing worse under influences
which I do not exactly know myself. Perhaps the government, upon
the question being laid before it, decided that there was no occasion
to review the Dreyfus case. I know nothing about it; I can only form
hypotheses. Answering M. Labori’s question, I will say this: when
Colonel Picquart left the war department, they gave him not the
slightest hint that he was sent away in disgrace. On the contrary,
they represented to him as a favor the rather vague mission with
which he was entrusted. They said to him: ‘You are to go away for a
few days. You will go to Nancy, to do certain things.’ When once he
was at Nancy, they said to him: ‘Go elsewhere.’ Thus from day to
day they gave him new orders, continually prolonging his mission;
and the colonel, who had left Paris without extra clothing, was told,
when he asked permission to return to get his linen, that his mission
was too important to warrant a diversion of even a few hours; and
they sent him to Besançon. Thus, without suspecting the fate that
was in store for him, he was sent along the frontier, and then to
Algeria and Tunis, where, in March, 1897, he was made lieutenant-
colonel of the Fourth Sharpshooters. They pretended that he was
given this appointment as a favor. General Gonse told him positively,
in a letter, that the regiment was a very select one, and that he
should consider himself fortunate in belonging to it. The general’s
letters are full of expressions of sympathy.”
M. Labori.—“M. Leblois referred just now to a threatening letter
which intervened at a certain moment, and which apparently
modified the state of mind prevailing in the office of the minister of
war. Could he tell us when this letter was addressed to Colonel
Picquart, from whom it came, and in what spirit it was conceived?”
M. Leblois.—“I have already said that this letter was dated June 3,
1897. It came from Lieutenant-Colonel Henry, who had been Colonel
Picquart’s subordinate, and it was couched in terms almost
insulting.”
M. Albert Clemenceau.—“The witness has said that at the same time
when Colonel Picquart’s letters were being seized in the war
department he was suffered to receive forged telegrams, and that at
the same time also General Gonse, sub-chief of the general staff,