“Can you tell me what you did when Luke left?”
His tone was soft, solicitous, but anger burned deep in that hawklike gaze. A knifelike jab to her heart almost made her gasp. She dared not reach for her cup again, because her culpability would give her away. Beneath her clothing, her body flushed. These next few minutes might be the most important of her life.
“Heartbroken, I… I lay on the floor next to Benson’s dead body for about twenty minutes after I heard him ride away. I was in pain and frightened he’d return to kill me off so no one could tell what he’d done.”
“Question,” Mr. Guthrie said, raising a hand. “Did Luke ever get close to your husband’s body once he was lying out on the floor? After he was hit, and perhaps dead?”
What did they know? This was a trap! She dropped her gaze to the small bouquet of buttercups on the center of the table. What should she say? Through her lashes, she could see all the men waiting. Waiting to hear her blunder. Swallowing, she wet the inside of her mouth. “Remembering is difficult.”
His regard hardened. “Take your time. There’s no rush.” He rocked to the side in his chair as he took a breath, gave Ashley, sitting beside her, a brief smile, and then his gaze tracked back to her. “Mrs. Van Gleek?”
The fool! Did he think he was smarter than her? “No, he didn’t go near the body. After Benson fell, he turned on me and beat me like an animal, like I said before. When I fell to the floor I closed my eyes, but I remember he was by the front door. He waited a few moments and then left. He never checked to see if either of us were indeed dead.”
Mr. Guthrie glanced at his men, victory in his eyes.
The young man that had followed Francis out today struggled to keep a grin contained.
The wrong answer! What did they know that she didn’t? She took a steadying breath and cast her gaze at Angelia, wanting out of this room. Out from under their scrutiny.
“Odd he didn’t search your place for money. That is what you said he demanded. Or that, after he murdered your husband, he headed into town as if nothing was wrong. Most men would take to the hills. Disappear. He and his son went into Priest’s Crossing and attended a dear friend’s wedding.”
Again she glared at Angelia.
Angelia stood. “That’s more than enough. Blanche is tired.”
Roady nodded and stood.
“One last question, if I may,” Mr. Guthrie said, his hand out in offering. “And then we’ll get out of your hair for good. You said Luke arrived early in the morning and killed your husband. You said you pretended to be dead for approximately twenty minutes before you moved from the spot he left you. You didn’t point out Luke until after Joe’s wedding, and that was in the late afternoon. Was anyone else in your home between the time of the murder and you identifying him?”
Another trap! Her heart slammed against her ribs. The cowboys could hardly contain their grins. She’d been such a fool. A bloody, stupid fool! She’d told Jack she’d been alone. No one else there. She had to stick to her story.
“Ma’am?”
“No one. Just me. I was in shock. I got to town as soon as I could pull myself together.”
“So, almost a full day passed.”
His tone didn’t hold near the caring as when he’d begun. She nodded.
Mr. Guthrie smiled politely. “Thank you, again, ma’am. This interview couldn’t have been easy—given all your memories. Condolences over your husband. Everyone has said what a good, honest man he was.”
Another jab! Her stomach churned as she hid her fisted hands in the fabric of her skirt. He’d skillfully boxed her into a corner in front of a handful of witnesses. What a fool she’d been.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
From the corner of his cell, Luke watched Faith pace from one wall to the other as they waited for Roady and the men to return. Early this morning, Roady had filled them both in on the bloody boot print as Colton listened sullenly from the bench against the far wall of the jailhouse. Now the boy was off with Smokey, fetching coffee from the restaurant across the road.
Faith turned, her expression hard. “What’s taking Roady and the men so long? Why aren’t they back yet?”
“I doubt a half hour has passed since they left. You may as well sit and relax. Who knows what kind of resistance Mrs. Van Gleek will give them?”
“She won’t tell them anything. I’d like to question her myself. And I would if she’d ever come into town. She’s hiding out, Luke, not mourning. I have no doubt in my mind that she’s been carrying on behind her husband’s back. Mr. Van Gleek came home and discovered them, and that was that.”
Pretty much what I’m thinking too. “You’re probably right.”
“Luke, how can you be so calm at a time like this? I’m scared to death, and you act like being locked up for days is nothing. I wish your parents and brothers were here. And Brandon. We need to send for Justin. With Brandon in Cheyenne, he’s the next best thing. Having some law on our side would be comforting. At least having Y Knot’s deputy will pull some weight with Jack Jones.”
His wife’s frustration was feeding his anger. “I wouldn’t count on that, sweetheart. Jack has his mind set, at least for now. If he gave in without reason, he’d look like a fool. We’ll get the evidence we need. You don’t have to be frightened.”
Her lips gripped together, going white.
His words weren’t helping in the least. Faith was rattled. Maybe she had good reason to be. “Come here,” he said, going to the bars and putting out his hand.
She quickly crossed the room and laid her cheek against his palm.
The feel of her skin always reminded him of a thunderstorm on a dark night, one of his best memories. She was his rock, but now he could feel her quivering with fear. The anger he tried to keep tightly in check ratcheted up a few more notches, making him want to punch his fist through the back wall. “We’ll see how things go over the next few days,” he said, as calmly as he could. “Justin can’t leave Y Knot with Brandon and my family away. His duty is there.”
“Hayden can watch over the town. And Chance and Tobit. Trent Herrick, Morgan Stanford, a lot of good, responsible men. I can think of several handfuls of more names if you’d like to hear them. We can send Nick for him as soon as—”
“No, we can’t.” He ran his thumb over her cheek to soften his curt interruption. “With last winter’s devastation and so many ranchers wiped out, we’ve had more than our fair share of lawlessness this spring. Men are hungry, and that will move them to do anything to feed themselves and their families. For now, Justin needs to stay put in Y Knot. Period. If things here get bad enough, I’m sure Roady will send for reinforcements and also send a telegram to Cheyenne to the family and Brandon. For now, we’re doing just fine. Investigating takes time. The guilty person won’t jump out and say hello.”
He put his face as far through the bars as he could manage and pulled Faith closer for a kiss. Jack Jones wouldn’t railroad him. He had a wife to love and children to protect. If push came to shove, he wouldn’t go down easy. But until they exhausted all the legal ways to circumvent this situation, they had to play by the rules. And that was difficult for Faith. All she could see was a bad end coming. He wouldn’t let that happen.
Gazing deep into her eyes, he silently made a promise to her and himself. Nobody would use him as a scapegoat and get away with the deed. Not while he was still alive.
The screech of a hawk sounded outside. He drew back and turned his head, listening.
“What?” Faith asked.
Luke put his finger to his lips and cut his gaze to the door to the outer office. Jack and the deputy had been there when Faith arrived a little while ago, and they’d heard the sounds of their voices in conversation. Now all was quiet, but Luke had the strangest feeling something was up.
“Keep talking low, like we just were,” he said close to the bars. “I’ll climb on my bunk and look out the window.”
She nodded, and her pupils dilated. Blin
king, she cut a glance back to the door and then watched Luke.
“Go on, sweetheart,” he whispered, slowly moving to the cot.
She nodded. “I can’t wait to have you home,” she said, unhurried and loud enough that they could hear her if they were listening. “Holly and Dawn miss you terribly. I can’t even imagine what they’re thinking. They miss their daddy tucking them in bed each night.”
Faith’s words moved softly around the room, the truth of her statement about the girls making his stomach tighten, and then anger blossomed hot. He was innocent. He hadn’t killed anyone. Jack Jones would pay for his stupidity when Luke was free.
He didn’t know what to expect outside. One foot up, he leaned to the wall, feeling the coolness beneath his palm. Grasping one bar, he pulled himself farther up. Nothing out by the broken-down chicken coop. He looked down and received the shock of his life.
Chapter Thirty
“Fox Dancing!” Luke blinked, wondering if he was hallucinating or if his young Cheyenne sister stood beyond the bars on the grass outside. A year had passed since he’d learned of her existence. The night was burned firmly in his mind. She had been unconscious in the loft of his new barn, fighting for her life the night of Brandon and Charity’s engagement party.
Roady discovered her and climbed down the ladder with her in his arms, a picture Luke would never forget. Until that day, he’d been ignorant of her birth. Her beauty and strength, as she stood proud before him now, sent a surge of joy through his heart. Knowing she was alive and well was a gift all in itself.
“Luke,” Faith whispered, from her spot on the other side of the room. “Is someone out there?”
Turning, he was unable to hide his happiness. “Fox Dancing,” he whispered, knowing his wide smile must look absurd. Since she’d departed the ranch last year, he had no way of tracking her whereabouts. Or knowing whether she was alive or dead. What her people were going through. He turned back to the window.
She looked well, and better, strong and fit. Confident. Her dark eyes flashed rebelliously, and she held her frame straight and fearless. A warm breeze lifted a colorful feather attached to the bottom of a narrow braid, almost lost in her thick mane.
Her appearance in his life then had been a huge surprise, as it was today. Why was she here? And what would transpire if anyone from this town saw her? He pushed his arm through the bars.
She reached up, touching his fingers.
Her impish smile made him chuckle. “Fox Dancing,” he whispered, the gravity of the situation returning. “If you’re seen, I can’t help you.”
“I’m happy to see you too, important white brother,” she replied quietly. “You have no words of greeting for your long-lost Cheyenne sister?”
Oh, how he wished he were out of this jail. The sound of her voice was enough to move mountains of sentimentality through him.
“Of course I’m happy,” he whispered. “I’m thrilled to death. A year is much too long between visits. But I fear for your safety.” He looked around behind the jailhouse, imagining all sorts of trouble. Deputy Clark running forward with his gun, taking aim. A mob of angry townsfolk. “You need to leave now. You can do nothing to help.”
“It is your safety you should be worried about,” she replied with all confidence.
He realized that she was probably right.
“Not mine. I am free, where I’ll remain. Stupid white dogs want you to hang. They don’t care if you’re guilty or not. Your Indian blood is all the reason they need.”
She’s dead-on again. How can I make her understand her being here makes things worse for me? If something happened to her, I’d never forgive myself. “If anyone sees you off the reservation, they’ll lock you up or worse. You must go.”
“Save your breath, brother. We hear my white brother in trouble. We come swiftly.”
Luke jerked his gaze from her face and searched the landscape until he spotted Painted Bear Stone hidden in a thicket of trees, a rifle cradled in his arms and a bow draped over his shoulder. Luke could feel the brave’s defiance from where he watched. Over the year, Painted Bear Stone had grown stronger. Taller. Luke was sure his gaze missed nothing as he kept guard. He wouldn’t let anything happen to his love.
“I see him,” Luke said quietly, feeling a growing despair. “Painted Bear Stone.”
Her eyebrow peaked. “My husband.”
Luke smiled again. The rightness of the union calmed his soul. “Congratulations. I’m happy to hear that news. Be sure to tell my new brother-in-law I fervently approve. I just hope he doesn’t regret his decision after you start bossing him around.”
Again the eyebrow, but this time with amusement playing on her lips. And love pouring from her eyes. They were a good match. “How did you hear I’d been jailed?”
“We have our ways. Since I returned from Y Knot last year, everyone knows of my Luke. Not everyone lives in the white man’s camps. We—” She glanced over her shoulder at Painted Bear Stone. “We come and go. Can’t stand to stay on reservation for long. We live on land, our land, unseen and unheard.”
She was avoiding his question. He asked again.
“Like a bird flying across country, word found me. I will never abandon you, Luke. Our spirits are connected, more so than just our blood. We think alike. Feel alike. I’ve lived your frustration since you’ve been caged.”
He let out a deep sigh. As glad as he was to see that she was still alive, fear for her life was stronger. “You can’t fight the whole town.”
“Who says I’ll do that?”
Anger welled. She was being foolish. “Me. I know you better than you think. You’re right about our spirits. I can tell what you’re thinking now.”
Her chin tipped in defiance.
“Listen to me, Fox Dancing. You and Painted Bear Stone are only two against many. Get whatever you’re thinking out of your head.”
Her brow arched as if she hadn’t heard a word he’d just said.
“Luke?” Faith asked more insistently. “How is she? What is she saying?”
He kept hold of the bars but turned to look at Faith. “She and Painted Bear Stone are married,” he whispered, then chuckled at her smile. “Just like us, they’re tied together for life.” He liked the way that statement lit up Faith’s expression.
Luke sobered. The seriousness of the situation loomed. He turned back to his sister. “The McCutcheon name has no pull in this town. The best way to help me is to go home now. As your older, responsible brother, I expect you to respect my wishes.”
At the sound of someone approaching, Luke quickly stepped off the cot and spun. Leaning his shoulder to the wall, he looked at his fingernails. Stupid to be sure, but that was all time allowed.
“Mrs. McCutcheon…”
Luke lifted his gaze.
Deputy Clark strode into the room and pulled to a stop.
His eyes narrowed. He looked back and forth between Luke and Faith; most likely discerning what the strange sense in the room was all about.
Faith stood by the cell, one bar grasped in each hand, her face flushed and her eyes wide.
Luke strode over to the bars and took one of her hands. “What do you want, Deputy?” he barked. “Can’t you see my wife is upset? Do you have to pester us every minute of the day?”
Faith blinked several times, and then moisture sprang into her eyes. “What now, Deputy Clark?” she said in a shaky voice. “I’m just so tired of this. You need to come to your senses. My husband didn’t kill anyone.”
Clark looked between them again, his nostrils flaring.
Did the man suspect something? Faith was playing her part to the hilt. Luke needed to stall Clark a little longer so Fox Dancing and Painted Bear Stone could get out of sight.
“You’ve been awfully quiet in here for the past few minutes,” he said, walking closer. Clark sucked on his upper teeth. “What’s going on? Care to let me in on the big secret?”
“How can anything be going on?” Faith replied,
her tone turning icy. “I’m just wondering about Smokey and Colton. Did they run into trouble at the restaurant when they went to get coffee? The way the citizens of Priest’s Crossing have turned against good, law-abiding people is not right. You’ll see when we prove my husband’s innocence.”
Good girl, keep Deputy Clark busy.
Faith straightened. “I’ll go check on them. I don’t trust this town where my son is concerned.” She looked at Luke. “They even pick on a small boy.”
Luke reached for her arm. “Oh no, you don’t,” he said in his no-nonsense voice. “You’re staying right here until Smokey returns. You know my rule. You don’t go anywhere without him. I’m sorry I let him go. Maybe the restaurant was out of coffee and they had to perk a new pot. Any number of things could be keeping ’em, but you’re not finding out.”
“Whatever you say, McCutcheon,” Clark said. “You’re a strange pair. I don’t even remember what I came in here to ask you. Something of Mrs. McCutcheon, but…”
The tall man scratched his head, but Luke didn’t buy his stupid act at all. He’d seen the way the deputy watched and listened. His gaze strayed to the window one too many times, and the way he gnawed on the inside of his cheek meant he wanted to get to something else. He was suspicious. And if he wasn’t, he should be. Or did he have something to hide, as well? That was an interesting thought. Luke wished he was free to investigate the town himself.
The man spun on his heel and left.
Luke heard him talking low to Jones in the outer room, even though he couldn’t make out their words. When Faith opened her mouth to say something, Luke quickly held a finger to his lips.
Jones’ chair scraped on the floor. A few more whispers and then the outer room was quiet.
“They aren’t as dumb as they look, or that we think they are,” Luke whispered. “We need to be very careful. Fox Dancing is playing with fire showing up.” He fisted a hand and stared at Faith. “We need to take action soon. The longer I’m in here, the longer she and Painted Bear Stone are in jeopardy of being discovered. Of course, she wouldn’t think of going home.”
Montana Promise (McCutcheon Family Series Book 10) Page 13
