“I’d suggest your wife leave this business to us,” Clark responded.
Luke didn’t like the way the deputy’s gaze openly roamed over Faith.
“She should get the hell out of town,” Clark said. “Things could get ugly if frustrated townsfolk decide they’re not waiting on some trial.”
Faith’s gasp sliced his heart.
Colton lifted his foot and brought his boot down hard on the deputy’s.
The man bellowed in pain and grasped for Colton, but he jumped away.
“They wouldn’t!” Faith shot back. She glanced his way.
The fear in her eyes wrenched his gut even more. Clark had said the exact thing that would keep her here, damn him. Now she’d never go home.
“Mrs. McCutcheon.” Jack reached out, his palms up. “I’ll not let anything unlawful happen. We’re waiting on a judge. Once he gets here, you can present a case. If Luke is innocent, like he says, he’ll be set free.”
Luke noted Clark’s stance never relaxed. He didn’t want to reassure his wife; he wanted her frightened. If Luke were out of this cell, he’d wring that man’s neck with his bare hands and enjoy the task. Since Luke had been locked up, Clark had kept his cards close to his vest, not really letting on what kind of a man he was. But Luke had had a feeling, and now his intuition was playing out right before his eyes.
Roady and Smokey, divested of their guns, took that moment to walk through the door. In an instant, they both assessed the situation and came to flank Faith on either side with Roady and Clark standing eye to eye. “What the hell’s going on here?” Roady asked.
As much as Luke wanted to feel relieved, he couldn’t. And wouldn’t, until he was out of this cell.
“Nothing,” Jack said, his chest puffed out. “Just discussing the best recourse for Mrs. McCutcheon. And that is she take her boy and go back to Y Knot. Leave this work to me.”
Clark glanced over his shoulder at Luke and then to the food tray on the cot. “Let me know when you’re through. Now that your men have arrived, one of us’ll be sticking close, so don’t get any stupid ideas about breaking out.” He turned to Jack.
Luke couldn’t see his face but thought he must be challenging Jack to dispute his direction. The deputy was obviously running the show.
“That’s a good idea,” Jack parroted. “I was about to say that myself. If you need anything, Mrs. McCutcheon, you let one of us know, and we’ll be happy to oblige. That is, until you leave for Y Knot.”
Luke held back any more comments until Jones and Clark exited the room. He signaled Roady and Smokey closer. Faith and Colton followed. “You get rooms at the hotel?”
Roady nodded. “We did. And we found a place to move our weapons to tonight, where they won’t be discovered and we can get to them quickly. Clark has already searched our rooms.” He glanced at Luke, Faith, and then Colton. “But I’m not saying where. The fewer who know, the better.”
Good thinking, Roady. “Smokey, I want you to stay with Faith at all times. Don’t leave her side. That means sleeping in her room and walking her to the necessary. Colton, you stay with your ma. I mean that, son. I don’t like the feel of how things are progressing. This farce may get worse before it gets better.”
Smokey nodded. “Will do, Boss. You don’t have ta worry. I won’t let nothin’ happen.”
“I know you won’t.” Luke’s blood still rushed in his ears, his muscles tensed. “I don’t like seeing you without your guns. You’re defenseless. They could claim anything and shoot you down. You’re putting your lives on the line for mine.”
“No one’s complaining, Luke,” Roady said. “Every man here knows what he volunteered for. And everyone back at the ranch wanted to come along. Lucky sends his thoughts and prayers for a fast resolution. Says they better be feeding you right.”
His friend’s voice brought a calming effect to Luke’s soul. They’d been through rough spots before. Roady had his back. He just wished he were out so he could have his. This whole state of affairs stunk to high heaven. The sooner the mix-up was sorted out, the better.
Roady leaned closer. “We’re going out to the cabin tonight. See what we can find. Francis has struck up a friendship of sorts with the female friend of Mrs. Van Gleek. Her name is Ashley Adair. Van Gleek is living with her while she mourns.”
Luke couldn’t stop his brows from arching at that word. “Be careful.” He searched Roady’s face. The man was dearer to him than he ever let himself think. “And, Smokey, you’ll stay behind with Faith and Colton.”
Smokey rolled the rim of his battered old Stetson in his hands. “’Course I will, Boss.”
The tan felt was a murky brown from constant wear and tear. When this was over, he’d buy Smokey a new Stetson. Hell, he’d buy all the men a new hat. He swallowed, feeling the tightness back in his throat. His men showing up was a very good thing. For his spirits, if nothing else.
Faith nodded and reached through the bars to caress his arm. “We’ll get through this, Luke. None of us will let anything happen to you.”
He looked her straight in the eye, needing to be sure she understood. “And you’ll stay inside tonight, you and Colton, with Smokey.”
She nodded, the corners of her lips pulling up just slightly. “Yes, we will. I’m not stupid, Luke. My talents aren’t sneaking out in the dark. I’ll know when and where to move.”
He tamped back his frustration. She loved him, wanted to help. He could understand that. “I just wish you’d go home.”
“You can keep wishing, but that’s not a wish that’ll come true. I’m sorry.”
Chapter Twenty
That evening, after darkness fell, Francis relaxed in the restaurant, projecting the picture of ease. The hotel claimed the kitchen stove’s flue was clogged and couldn’t serve the group of ranch hands any supper, so they’d ventured across the street to the restaurant. Since the arrival of the others, Jed Kasterlee, the sullen-looking hotel clerk, had turned almost hostile. The man said few words unless asked a direct question. If Colton hadn’t spoken up about the empty rooms, Kasterlee would have turned them away. He wouldn’t be of any help, and he may even be a hindrance. Hadn’t anyone ever heard of innocent until proven guilty?
Faith moved in with Colton. Smokey would throw his bedroll against their door. Francis had been booted out and took a bed in Roady’s room, while Pedro, Shad, and Nick shared another.
Roady leaned over the table in Francis’s direction. “You speak with that girl any more? That Miss Adair?” he asked softly.
Francis glanced up from cutting his steak. “Not since you saw us talking when you rode in earlier today.” He put the piece into his mouth, chewed, swallowed, and then glanced at Shad and Nick, eating at their table as well. Smokey, Faith, Pedro, and Colton were across the room. A few other diners were in the eatery, but not many. Daniel Clevenger, the same grumpy waiter who had been serving Francis since he’d arrived in town, glared at him from the kitchen area.
“She’s pretty,” Nick said, a suggestive grin stretching his face. “Good thing you saw her first.”
Francis stabbed another chunk of meat with his fork. So this is the way the wind is blowing. “You’re right, I did see her first. You best remember that.”
Nick chuckled and then shrugged while his older brother cut him a watchful glance.
Roady’s eyebrow crept up. “I don’t want any trouble between the two of you here in Priest’s Crossing. Save your grievances until later, if you must. I’d rather you learn to get along.”
Nick was older than Francis, but they were about the same size. Since last summer, Francis had bulked up plenty. Not from any one thing he’d been doing intentionally, just Mother Nature kicking in. He smiled politely at Shad and then his brother. Today, when Ashley told him about her great-great-grandfather’s name being Francis, something inside him changed. His heart had grown a mite larger, and his confidence multiplied. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her since that moment.
“Maybe
you can find out some more,” Shad said, forking in a mouthful of mashed potatoes and gravy. He took a sip of his coffee and set the cup back in its saucer. “Being that she’s close friends with the Van Gleek woman. I hear they’re living in the same house.”
Nick smiled. “Sweet talk her a little. Gain her trust.”
Francis didn’t like being asked to spy. And especially not by Nick Petty. He wouldn’t playact with Ashley. He’d ask her questions, and possibly for help, but he wouldn’t hoodwink. Her gentle laughter lilted through his mind. “Keep your voice down,” he muttered, cutting his gaze to Clevenger, filling salt and pepper shakers at the end of the counter. The man’s ear was turned in their direction and his hands were barely moving. More was going on here than met the eye.
Roady took a forkful of potatoes.
One thing about Clevenger, he served a man’s meal. Nobody would go away hungry tonight when they were out sneaking around.
“Don’t get defensive, Francis,” Roady said, barely over a whisper. “Miss Adair looks like a nice girl. Nobody’s asking you to do anything deceitful. But if we could speak with the witness, Mrs. Van Gleek, then maybe we’d get somewhere. Jones gave us nothing, and Clark even less. I need to have a few words with her, that’s all. You’re really the only one who can approach her. Can you do that first thing tomorrow?”
They did need to talk with the woman accusing Luke, and that was a fact. This biscuit-crumb-sized town didn’t have a lawyer, and Francis was sure Roady would take that role. Asking a few questions couldn’t hurt. Answering them was the least she could do, in mourning or not, when another man’s life was on the line. “Sure. I can do that. First thing in the mornin’.”
“And maybe we’ll find out something important tonight,” Shad said under his breath as he watched Clevenger take the coffeepot over to Smokey’s table.
The large metal coffeepot would be heavy for anyone else, Francis thought, but for Clevenger the cast-iron appliance looked as light as a feather. He filled Smokey and Pedro’s cups, but Faith turned him down. Colton could use some cheering, but Francis didn’t know how to accomplish that with his pa still locked up.
Clevenger stood next to Roady. “More coffee?”
All the men nodded. Tonight would be a long one, and everyone needed to be alert and at their best. They’d quietly retrieve their horses from the livery and skedaddle out of town to the place Luke had described. They’d break in and search the place with lanterns. Was there anything Jones and Clark had missed? If the murder had been Brandon’s case, Francis knew that lawman wouldn’t miss a speck of dust on the ceiling if it pertained to the incident. Not so for Jones. And he didn’t know Clark well enough to say.
Clevenger silently filled their cups.
“This steak is mighty tasty,” Roady said with a smile, meat on the end of his fork.
Clevenger grunted. “Want to warn you that if you make trouble for the sheriff or the deputy, they’ll have plenty of backup from us merchants.”
“Who’s making trouble?” Nick asked, an edge to his voice. He straightened in his chair. “We’ve been perfect gentlemen since riding in.”
Roady shot Petty a glare. “We’re not looking for trouble. Just answers. That’s the least we deserve.”
Clevenger gazed at them for a long moment, lifted a shoulder in answer, and then walked off.
Tonight would prove interesting. But they’d all best be on their guard.
Chapter Twenty-One
The time was close to one o’clock in the morning, and Ashley was unable to fall asleep. The sight of all those cowboys wearing guns as they rode into town kept making her toss and turn. She didn’t want to hear of any more bloodshed.
And then there was Francis. He was never far from her thoughts. Imagine, having great-great-grandpa’s name. Was that in some way significant? She didn’t want to read her feelings into something that wasn’t there. Still, she couldn’t deny that his eyes moved her deeply. She couldn’t figure out why that might be.
And what about Blanche? Ashley thought she’d known everything there was to know about her older friend, and yet, since the killing, everything felt off. Out of whack. Like a broken fingernail that had yet to slough off.
Indeed. Blanche was a mystery. She was being so offish to everyone, even to her. Ashley couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Ashley had to keep reminding herself that yes, her friend’s husband had been murdered in a very troubling way right before Blanche’s eyes. That would change anyone. Her mood swings were understandable. But she was snappish, jumpy, and started at every little thing. This evening, when the house was dark and they were going to their rooms to go to bed, she’d met Blanche in the shadowy hallway, making her shriek in fear. Seemed she was afraid of her own shadow.
Ashley assumed she’d be crying her eyes out. And she was, at times. But mostly she just stared out the window. At other moments, she had the most troubling expression in her eyes. Something Ashley had never seen before.
Frustrated with her lack of sleep, Ashley swung her legs out of bed and stood, then pulled on her light robe, firmly tying the sash. As usual this time of year, her window was open, but no whisper of breeze stirred. She reached for the damp cloth by her bedside and ran the cool rag over her face.
What she needed was a glass of water. Anything cool. The fried chicken her mother prepared for supper had been delicious but now weighed heavy in her stomach. Perhaps that was adding to her sleeplessness. Retrieving the empty glass on her nightstand, she quietly opened the bedroom door, detecting a slight aroma of smoke.
Frightened, she padded quickly down the narrow hallway to the front room, but pulled up short. Blanche stood in the dark, gazing out the front window. A tendril of smoke trailed up to a cloud hovering at the ceiling. She must not have heard her approach for her friend didn’t turn around. What she should do? Would she be intruding? Perhaps Blanche wanted time alone.
“Please, join me.”
The voice was unusually deep, sending a shiver of uncertainty up Ashley’s spine.
Blanche turned.
The moonlight through the windowpane gave just enough light that Ashley could make out a strange smile twisted on Blanche’s lips. She said the first thing that came to her mind. “I don’t want to intrude.”
“You’re curious about me, I’m sure.” A throaty laugh followed. “And you’ve caught me smoking. For shame, for shame.”
Ashley had smelled something on Blanche before but hadn’t put two and two together.
“I hope you’re not too shocked. The school board would have fired me immediately if they’d known. I’m lucky they never discovered my one weakness. And now—because of me—you’re the teacher, lucky girl. A very good job too, I’d say. I’m sure you’ll keep my guilty secret for me—since we are best friends. With Benson dead, I’ll have to find work somewhere.”
“I won’t say a word,” Ashley responded, coming farther into the room. She stopped by Blanche’s side and looked out the window as well. The smell of the smoke heated her lungs and burned her throat. She resisted the urge to cough.
“Actually, I couldn’t sleep,” Blanche said, rubbing her side. “No matter how I turn, my ribs ache so, I thought I’d go mad. They’ll be healed soon though, and I’ll never again suffer like I did at the hands of that horrible man. McCutcheon will pay for what he did.”
Ashley swallowed nervously, keeping her gaze trained on the land that sloped down to the road and the trees on the far side. Blanche had changed. Goose bumps prickled Ashley’s arms. Movement across the road in the brush caught her attention.
“What?” Blanche asked, looking over.
“I don’t know.” Her grip around the glass tightened. “I thought I saw something, but in the darkness, I’m not sure. Maybe a coyote is lurking about.”
As they stared, a rider passed by several feet off the far side of the road, winding through the brush and keeping to the trees. After he was gone, another rider came on his heels.
“Not
hard to guess who’s out there. Or where they’re going,” Blanche snapped. “Those cowboys are out to prove me a liar. I have half a mind to walk into town and tell the sheriff.”
Ashley thought of Francis. The guns she’d seen on the ranch hands when they’d first ridden by her house on their way to town. The anger in Deputy Clark’s eyes resembling a smoldering keg of dynamite ready to go off. “No, don’t do that. In this heat, the mountain rattlers may be out searching for someplace cool. Tomorrow will be soon enough to report what we’ve seen.”
Blanche stared at her for a long time.
They were close enough that Ashley could see her friend was none too pleased with her remark. Did she think she was siding with the McCutcheons?
Blanche leaned in, her eyes dark and unreadable behind the smoke. “I should just let them break into my home?”
A trickle of sweat slipped down between Ashley’s shoulder blades. “We don’t know for sure they’re headed to your cabin. That’s our assumption. And if they are, I don’t think they’ll hurt anything. They’ll just hunt around for clues. Since you have nothing to hide, they won’t find anything.” She’d been about to say if you have nothing to hide but bit her tongue at the last moment. For whatever reason, she wasn’t as sure about her friend as she’d once been. She kept thinking about Francis’s pleading tone to keep an open mind. To be careful. She couldn’t fathom him a liar or cheat.
“And you know this how?”
The cigarette had burned low, but Blanche didn’t seem to notice the amber hot end so close to her fingertips. “It’s just how I feel. But do what you want. I can’t stop you. If you really want to walk to town now, I’ll dress and go with you.” She studied her friend’s face. “I’m here for you, Blanche, come what may.” With that, she turned back to the window and focused her attention on the low hanging moon.
One last rider slipped by her house in complete silence.
Montana Promise (McCutcheon Family Series Book 10) Page 9