Montana Promise (McCutcheon Family Series Book 10)

by Caroline Fyffe

He smiled and ambled out of his doorway where he’d been standing in the shadows. “I don’t much speak with Tilly anymore. Neil makes sure of that. Your secret is safe with me.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Kasterlee.” She chanced a glance up at Francis, who regarded her with a skeptical half smile. “Sorry,” she said quietly as they walked off. “That was close. I’ll have to learn to keep my mouth shut if I’m to help you.”

  His brows rose but he didn’t stop walking. “Does this mean you’re on our side?”

  The small sardonic smile was back, making little flutters warm her insides. “Partially. And if I learn information that will corroborate Blanche’s story, I’ll share that as well. I’m keeping an open mind.”

  “That’s all I ask.” Francis opened the door to the small bank next to the mercantile, allowing Ashley to enter before him.

  Neil was in the back of the room, doing something next to a large standing safe. When he turned, a friendly smile lit his face. “Miss Adair. What brings you into the bank today?” He glanced at Francis and nodded.

  She was at a loss and glanced at Francis.

  “Hello, Mr. Huntsman. I don’t know if you remember me. I’m Francis, and I work for the Heart of the Mountains ranch in Y Knot. I’m the one needing your help. Miss Adair was just showing me the town.”

  The corners of Neil’s lips pulled up into a small smile. He gave her a secretive wink.

  Word would be around town that she was stepping out with Francis. The thought pleased her until she thought of her mother and Blanche. Neither one would welcome the news.

  “What can I help you with, Francis? Did you want to open an account?”

  “Uh, no. We’ll all be gone as soon as Luke’s released from jail, and we expect that to happen soon.”

  Neil’s brows rose. “I hope you’re right. Then what do you need?”

  “Can I get a wire transfer from the bank in Y Knot? We’re running low on funds.”

  Was that true? Everyone knew the McCutcheons were wealthy. Hadn’t Luke’s wife arrived in town a few days ago? Surely she’d have brought enough money to last the extent of their stay.

  “Not until Priest’s Crossing gets another telegraph,” Neil replied.

  “Any plans for that to happen?”

  “Nope. I’m sorry. Not much call for wire transfers, although that doesn’t help you. If you’d like, I can talk to my boss about giving Mrs. McCutcheon a loan for the time you’re here, but under the circumstances, that might be a problem as well. But I won’t know for sure until I speak with him.”

  Francis leaned his elbow on the counter between them and rubbed his chin.

  Ashley didn’t like fooling Mr. Huntsman, even for a good cause.

  “I’ll tell Mrs. McCutcheon.” He straightened and crooked his elbow. “Ready, Miss Adair? I guess we’ll…” He quickly turned back. “Oh, by the way, I overheard talk in the café that you have a special money clip that looks like a gun. Thing is, I have a memory of something like that from before I was taken in by the McCutcheons. Way back when I was a child.”

  Neil’s smile faded. “Who was talking about me? Do you remember when it was?”

  Francis shrugged. “The days are all runnin’ together like molasses in a can. Even if I could recall, I hardly know anyone. Just wondered if I might have a look, for old time’s sake.” He held up a hand. “But only if you don’t mind.” He glanced at Neil’s pocket.

  Neil gave a small laugh and headed to the back of the room. “I keep that piece locked up. Give me a moment.”

  Francis seemed intent on looking at the teller’s feet.

  “What on earth are you doing?” she whispered close to his ear.

  Francis hadn’t stopped looking at Neil’s boots since the teller turned away. “I’m killing two birds with one stone.” He smiled into her eyes, making breathing difficult. “Would you say he and I wear the same size boot?”

  Shocked, she pulled back. “What?”

  Neil worked the combination to the safe.

  “His boots?” He held up his for her to see.

  She glanced to the door and windows. “You’re crazy.”

  “Maybe. But check out his feet before he comes back to the counter.” He glanced at the safe and then back at her. “Well?”

  “Uh…” Francis was much taller than Neil. “His are smaller,” she whispered.

  “You’re doing fine,” Francis softly said. “I like working with you. I think we make a darn good team.”

  Heat rushed to her face, which only made his smile widen.

  Mr. Huntsman was on his way back with something in his hand.

  “Well, I’ll be,” Francis said, his eyes going wide. “It’s just how I remembered. Would you mind if I…?” He held out his hand.

  “Course not.” Neil placed the clip in his palm.

  “Where’d you get it?” Francis asked, never taking his attention off the clip. “I’d swear the design is exactly like the one I recall. But that’s all I remember. Not where I was or who I was with.”

  “A peddler came through town about a year ago. Had a bunch of stuff in his wagon, but only two of these.”

  A clue! Francis really was good at this.

  “Two, you say. Do you know who purchased the other one? I’d sure like to see that too.”

  Neil lifted a shoulder. “Nope, I don’t. When I bought mine, the other was still there.”

  Francis handed back the money clip.

  She almost laughed at his dreamy look of nostalgia. He was a good actor, as well as a good detective. An aspect of him she should remember.

  “Thank you, Mr. Huntsman. I appreciate your time.”

  Back out on the boardwalk, she grasped his arm and hauled him to a stop when he started toward the hotel. “I’ll ask again… what on earth? What was all that business about boot size? I’ve never heard the like.”

  “Just doin’ a day’s work.”

  Feeling a bubble of annoyance she stepped back and raised her chin. “You’re not the kind of man who does senseless things to impress others or get a laugh, I hope. I didn’t take you for that, Francis, and I’m disappointed if you are.”

  He let out a loud chortle. “No. I’m just a regular ranch hand, nothing more, nothing less. Matter of fact, most times I let others run the show. But not now. Luke’s life is too important. And I like Tilly too much to hornswoggle her husband. Mrs. McCutcheon isn’t really looking for a loan, but at the time I needed an answer that made sense. And I can tell you I’m greatly relieved I can mark Neil Huntsman off my list of suspects. I never want to see anything bad happen to Tilly now that she’s found happiness.”

  That was a sweet sentiment, she thought, moving slowly by his side. Francis was clearly enjoying himself. His eyes fairly danced with humor.

  “I guess I better get back to my work, and then I have more harvesting to do.”

  She dreaded going home. Surely her mother would ask where she’d been for so long. She’d only meant to stay at the school for a few minutes. To get out of the house and stretch her legs. Now she’d have to do some explaining.

  But why should I have to? I’m an adult. I have a job and am making my own way, albeit with my mother, but I’m supporting her as well. Do I ever get to have a life of my own?

  An unbidden thought of Y Knot slipped into her mind. What would life be like there? Living on her own? Working hard but enjoying every moment? With Francis to keep her company and other friends to make? Did the town really have young women with whom she could socialize? The thought was more enticing than she’d like to believe.

  Francis never looked as handsome as he did today, and the fact he had her grandfather’s manly name made him all the more attractive. Was she just a summertime fling to him? Did he sweet talk all the girls? Did he have young women all around the countryside sighing at his every word? Surely someone as handsome as Francis must have admirers falling at his feet. As soon as the trial was over, would he pack up and leave, move on to another adventure and anot
her woman? She needed to be smart. She didn’t want to end up with a broken heart.

  “I’m sorry to part ways, Ashley, but I have to go find Roady and see what I missed at the meeting. He won’t be happy that I skipped. Thanks for your help—and company. Remember what I asked you.”

  He warmed her with another heart-stopping smile. “I’ll not say a word,” she replied. “You already have my promise, but if you want to double-pinky promise, I’m willing.”

  He chuckled. “Double-pinky what?” He cocked an eyebrow. “What’s that? And do I really want to know?”

  She quickly glanced around and then pulled him into an alley by his shirtsleeve. Satisfied they weren’t the object of anyone’s attention, she explained, “It’s a practice that comes from Japan, of all places. Go like this.” She held up her baby finger and waited until he did the same. Going slowly, she wrapped her finger around his, all the while smiling like a fool. The contact of his rough skin on hers caused a cocoon of euphoria. She thought she might faint. The only thing that kept her on her feet was the fact he was grinning like a fool as well. They stared into each other’s eyes, the feelings holding her spellbound.

  He gave a gentle tug.

  She came closer. So close the front of her blouse touched his shirt. With the brevity of a sparrow’s wing, he brushed her lips with his. She felt her heart melt, and she opened her eyes to find him smiling still. “You’re not acting now, are you, Francis?” she whispered, her lips touching his.

  “I can assure you I’m not, Miss Adair. And if you give me permission, I’d like nothin’ better than to kiss you again. A proper kiss, not that little peck. I’m hoping you’ll say yes.”

  Giddy happiness bubbled inside as Ashley nodded and waited for another trip to heaven she knew was about to happen in Francis’s arms.

  Chapter Forty

  Colton hunkered down by the front door of the sheriff’s office, his chin resting in his palm as he gazed into the street. He was forbidden to leave this spot. His pa had asked him to keep an eye out for clues, but Colton knew that was just his way of making him feel better.

  Everyone thought him a kid. Even Pa. Especially Pa. If Colton hadn’t snuck off the morning of the wedding, none of this would have happened. A deep, hurting hole opened up inside.

  How Luke must rue the day he set eyes on me. Because of Colton, Luke might actually be hanged for murder.

  Nobody, not even Francis, had shared with him about the bloody boot print the men found in the cabin six days ago. He’d heard bits and pieces from the hands by eavesdropping.

  Sullenly, he kicked out and sent a dirt clod into the street. His mother was in the jail now, with Smokey and his pa. What would happen? Each day that passed, Colton’s fear grew. All sorts of horrible outcomes tortured his mind. How he wished his grandfather were here. Flood would take care of the misunderstanding straightaway. Or either of his uncles. Jack Jones, or, more to the point, Hoss Clark, his toad-faced deputy, had the men at a standoff.

  Francis secretly, but slowly, ruled out suspects, but the process took too long. Reverberation of the wooden boardwalk made him look around.

  Tilly and the woman from the mercantile were headed his way. Feeling conspicuous, he glanced in the other direction as they advanced, his face heating, cheeks stinging with shame. His pa had taught him a man didn’t ignore anyone. To do so was rude. Everyone deserved at least to be acknowledged, even with a dip of a chin or a touch to his hat brim, but he just couldn’t today. He’d been the recipient of countless angry, speculative looks.

  “Colton?”

  Too bad. She was using proper manners and not giving him an easy out by walking by without a word. Heat stung the backs of his eyes. He turned up his face and then slowly stood. Tilly’s boss, Joe Brunn’s sister, looked none too pleased to be speaking with the enemy.

  “I thought that was you,” Tilly said with a caring smile. She wore a starched white apron over a pink dress. A creamy-white cameo was pinned just below the soft-looking lace around her neck.

  He knew the story of how she used to be a saloon girl in Y Knot and how she’d set her cap on marrying a McCutcheon—especially Luke. Colton didn’t remember much, being he was younger when he’d first come to town with his ma. But Tilly had been there then, behind the scenes, vying for his pa’s attention. At least, that’s what Billy told him. None of that mattered now. Her worry-filled eyes were almost too much for him to endure. He glanced up for one second, smiled, and then looked away. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “What are you doing out here?”

  Embarrassed to tell her the truth, that he was forbidden to take a step away from the sheriff’s office door without his protector, Smokey, he shrugged. “Just passing some time is all.” He chanced another look at Mrs. Meeks.

  The woman checked her watch and then stared at the mercantile.

  Colton wished they would do the kindly thing and move on.

  “If you have time, why don’t you come to the store? I have a plateful of fresh oatmeal cookies on the counter I just took from the oven not fifteen minutes ago. They’re for our customers.” She winked. “A way to draw them in. There’s plenty, and I’d enjoy getting to know you better. I’ve seen you around but haven’t had a chance to talk.”

  Her words strengthened him. Not everyone considered him a dung beetle. “I can’t, ma’am, but thank you all the same. I’m keeping watch out here.” Sort of the truth.

  Mrs. Meeks snorted. “I need to get back to the store, Tilly,” she said. “I don’t want to leave Joe for long. He’s only so good with the customers.”

  Colton hadn’t missed her disdainful expression. As she walked away, he heaved a sigh of relief.

  “I admire your pa, Colton,” Tilly said, placing one hand on his shoulder and the other on her growing stomach. “All the McCutcheons, really. Back in the old days, when I was a saloon girl, they never looked down their nose at me. Not a one of them. And that was rare. Good things happen to good people. Don’t you worry about your pa. Somehow, this whole mess will be cleared up, and the nightmare will be over.” She tipped his chin up with a gentle finger and then leaned close to whisper, “I believe your pa is innocent. He’d never murder anyone. I don’t know why Blanche is saying the things she is, but I’ve never liked that woman. Something dishonest about her.”

  All the attention from the ex–saloon girl had his face aflame and heart pounding. But hearing her proclamation roused his courage.

  “Unfortunately,” she continued softly, for his ears only, “because of my past, not many hold my opinion in any esteem at all. Still, I’m on the lookout too. You have a friend and ally in me. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to seek me out. Do you know where I live, with my husband, Neil?”

  Gratitude for her heartfelt words washed through him. “No, ma’am.”

  The restaurant man was watching their conversation with interest, but he couldn’t hear their words.

  “Down that way, at the end of the street, are some small houses. Mine is in the middle of two others. I have yellow curtains in the window. Come by any time you’d like to talk. And until then, I’ll be keeping your pa in my prayers.”

  Colton took a deep breath and couldn’t believe that a smile popped out. “Thank you, ma’am. I’ll keep that in mind.” He’d heard his ma say those words more times than he could count. Perhaps Tilly was right, and this nightmare would work itself out. Then again, wishes didn’t always come true.

  She didn’t ruffle his hair like every other adult in town who thought him a child but put out her hand, and they shook, sealing their friendship.

  The man across the street tossed his cigarette into the dirt and stalked back into his restaurant.

  “Mr. Clevenger’s not real happy to see us talking.”

  She glanced over her shoulder at the now-empty boardwalk. “He doesn’t frighten me, Colton. I’ve faced many a worse adversary. I’ve come to know that only things we fear can hurt us. Neil has taught me not to worry about what others think.
Their opinions are none of my business.” She smiled and tipped her head. “Remember what I said about the cookies. The invitation is extended to your mother and Mr. Smokey as well.”

  He watched her walk away. He liked Tilly a whole bunch. Maybe things weren’t as bad as he thought.

  Two men riding up the street all but stared him down.

  Then again, maybe they were.

  Chapter Forty-One

  “Luke McCutcheon, you’re talking nonsense!” Faith marched to the connecting doorway, collected her thoughts, and marched back.

  Smokey, hanging against the back wall, stuck his nose in a flyer he’d pulled out of his pocket when their argument had started. He glanced up sheepishly and she shot him a defiant frown.

  Luke could be so pigheaded. He was the embodiment of a domineering boar. If the tables were turned, she knew exactly what he’d be doing. But she was a woman—fragile and to be protected. After six days of seeing her love locked behind bars, she’d had enough. The time to take action had arrived.

  “Just calm down, sweetheart,” Luke commanded. He held out a placating hand. “You’re exhausted and vexed. You know as well as I do you returning to Y Knot with Colton is best. He’s taken this to heart. Thinks he’s at fault. Don’t you see the strain on his face, his slumped shoulders, and the worry behind his eyes?”

  “Don’t you dare pin this on Colton.” She pointed at Luke’s face. “You want me out of town. You can talk until the birds fly south, Luke McCutcheon, but I’m not going. You’d never leave me. Never! Why on earth do you think you have the right to send me away?”

  “Faith, whatever you say won’t change my mind…”

  Something inside her snapped and anger boiled over. “Do you know what being married to you is like?” She pierced him with a cold stare. “Do you? No, you haven’t any idea. You’re demanding, opinionated, and headstrong. You expect so much of yourself—and everyone else as well.”

  “Aren’t I usually right about things?”

  So what if he is! “Don’t change the subject. I’ve lived under your iron rule, bailed you out of scrapes when you let your temper run afoul, eased tensions when one of your brothers steps on your sensitive toes. Without me, you’d be a mess.”