Montana Promise (McCutcheon Family Series Book 10)

by Caroline Fyffe

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Drenched in sweat, Luke sat up on his cot, the stillness and stuffy, hot air pushing at his lungs. His clothes, the fresh ones Faith had brought him, were stiff from a couple of nights’ sleep. Feeling movement on his neck, he slapped away the insect, uncaring. Remnant fleas from the blanket Faith had replaced still shared the cell with him, making his life miserable. He needed a real bath in the worst way.

  When would this ordeal be over? By now, Flood and his brothers must be on their way, not that Jack would be persuaded by anyone at this point. Brandon might talk some sense into him since he’d been his boss for several years, but that was no guarantee. This murder charge would go all the way to trial, and he couldn’t do a thing to change that.

  Luke looked out of his bars into the darkness as someone stepped into the room.

  “Luke,” Joe Brunn said, coming closer.

  Surprised to see his old friend, Luke pushed away his disappointment. Five days had passed since Joe’s return and not much had changed. “Joe. What’re you doing out this late? It must be past one o’clock.”

  “Couldn’t sleep. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

  The scant moonlight coming in the window high above his cot made seeing his friend possible. “Nope. Fleas keep me scratching.”

  “I was surprised to find the office empty,” Joe said, looking around. “Where’re Jack and Deputy Clark?”

  “Don’t know.”

  They gazed at each other in the darkness.

  Joe’s shoulders sagged and he heaved a deep sigh. “Beyond what you might think of me, Luke, I am trying, but no one is listening. I’ve decided to ride out tomorrow. Head for Y Knot where I can send some telegrams myself. See what I can do for you. Maybe round up that lawyer Flood uses.”

  “What about Pearl? Won’t she mind?”

  Light enough to see Joe, but too dark to read his eyes, his friend’s lack of a response gave Luke his answer. “You don’t have to do that, Joe. I don’t want to put you in a bad spot with your new wife. I’m sure Flood and Brandon are on their way. The last time I heard, the law says I’m innocent until proven guilty. I’ve got nothin’ to worry about since I didn’t kill Benson. They’ve got no proof.”

  Joe scuffed his boot. “I hope that’s the case, Luke. I feel like I don’t know these people anymore. But since Mildred’s death last night, people have been more apt to listen. That’s something. A handful think she was murdered by the same person who killed Benson.”

  A crack in the wall. Hope squeezed his chest. “That could be true. What do you think?”

  Joe sputtered. “How can you question me? You know I’m on your side. I don’t know what to think about Mildred, if she was murdered or not, but someone out there killed Pearl’s brother. Whether he’s still around, I aim to clear your name. No McCutcheon would kill in cold blood for any reason. That’s a fact I can stake my life on.”

  Luke forced a smile and tried to dredge up some of the old feeling he’d once had for Joe. “That’s good to hear.”

  Joe stepped close to the bars.

  His face was tortured. Too bad Luke didn’t have any words of comfort. He had his own problems to worry about.

  “Come on, Luke,” Joe said. “You can’t think that little of me. I’ve never doubted you or your innocence.”

  Luke steeled against the retort he felt like slinging. “I don’t think anything about anybody, except Jack Jones. That man is difficult to figure out. And I’ve had plenty of time here to do my fair share of thinkin’. Either he’s guilty or he’s covering for someone else. He can’t be so dumb as to take that woman at her word.”

  “I never have liked Blanche. I was surprised last year when she and Benson began courting. He was in way over his head. She never seemed like she liked him much, let alone loved him. She henpecked him nonstop. Made his life a living hell…”

  Luke grasped the steel bar, appreciating the coolness on his warm palm. Here was a topic he was interested in. “That right? She have anyone else around town she seemed to like more than Benson?”

  In the darkness, Joe straightened. Grasped one of the bars himself. “You mean like a gentleman friend?”

  Joe’s tone said he’d never given that a thought. “I wouldn’t call him that, if you catch my meaning. More like a scoundrel. From what I hear, Benson was often gone. Maybe she got lonely. Didn’t like all the solitude out at the cabin. Those woods a quarter mile out of town are the perfect place for a clandestine meeting.”

  Joe frowned. “Pearl wouldn’t like you talking like that. She’s fond of Blanche.”

  “Good thing Pearl’s not here. You ever see Blanche frequenting a business or house more often than others?” Luke lifted his pant leg and rubbed off some crawly creature. “Joe?”

  “I’m thinkin’.” His father’s good friend shifted his weight from one leg to the next. “She’d walk into town often enough, most times without Benson. I’ve seen her in the restaurant frequently chatting with Daniel Clevenger or passing the time with Jed Kasterlee outside the hotel, since the hotelier thinks all married women are fair game. Passed him a little while ago on my way over, as a matter of fact.” Joe made a humming sound in his throat. “Now that I’m thinking on the subject, I can see where you’re going. Deputy Clark used to follow her around like a sick puppy up until the day this happened. I’ve noticed her in discussion with Pink Kelly at his livery. Laughing with him, more than a married woman ought. Now that you brought this line of thinking to the forefront of my mind seems all the men liked her. She even used to look in my direction before I made my feelings for Pearl known.”

  “But which one did she like, Joe? That’s what we have to figure out.” Luke wished he could trust Joe enough to tell him about the bloody boot print the men found in the cabin, but he didn’t dare. Before Joe married Pearl, Luke wouldn’t have hesitated. “What about Jack Jones? Did Blanche ever have any doin’s with him?” Him being guilty would explain Jack’s eagerness to lock up Luke.

  “Jack? Heck no. She belittles him constantly.”

  Hmm, the deputy, the liveryman, the innkeeper, the restaurateur. Four single men who could easily have taken up with the ex-schoolteacher behind Benson’s back. But he needed to keep an open mind. Not limit the possibilities. Priest’s Crossing had plenty of men, and any could be the murderer.

  He thought about Fox Dancing and Painted Bear Stone. Were they still around town somewhere? They hadn’t made their presence known to anyone else since her first visit. The last thing he wanted was for his little sister to be hurt trying to help him.

  “How’s Faith holding up? And Colton? For a time on that ride I gave ’em into Priest’s Crossing years ago, before they met up with Ward Brown, I thought I might have a chance to win Faith’s heart for myself.” He chuckled, but the sound didn’t hold much mirth. “That feels like thirty years ago, my friend. I was mighty glad to hear you rescued her and took her back to the Heart of the Mountains. Everyone knew you two were meant for each other. She doing all right?”

  “The best she can under the circumstances.”

  Joe took a deep breath. “I best get back before Pearl misses me. Is there anything I can get you before I leave? Or tomorrow?”

  Luke couldn’t stop a quick glance around the dark enclosure. Was he actually getting used to being locked up? Tomorrow would be two weeks! Thirteen days longer than he could stand. “Only my freedom, and you can’t deliver that. Roady stopped in around eleven, and Shad is out there somewhere standing guard.” And Fox Dancing and Painted Bear Stone. For an imprisoned fella, he did have a lot of people looking out for his hide. That alone should make him feel better.

  “All right then, I’m gone.”

  “If you remember anything else about Blanche, get the information to Roady or Francis if you can’t to me.” His grip tightened on the bar. “Don’t tell Jack. I appreciate what you shared tonight.”

  “You know I will. G’night.”

  A foreboding sensation swirled ins
ide Luke as he watched his friend exit. Was he kiddin’ himself? Would Jack and Deputy Clark act on the trumped-up charges? As the days passed, Luke was less sure of anything. That he’d ever get out, see the ranch again, or hold his daughters. What he wouldn’t give for a deep lungful of clean mountain air.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Francis crept along the back of the buildings, getting closer to the hotel, the recovered gun belts strapped on his hips and rifles balanced in his arms. Nick followed behind so quietly Francis had to look behind to be sure he was still there. Knowing Judge Wesley had shown up and would appear in town tomorrow was a relief. This whole mess could be wrapped up soon and without a single shot fired.

  “Over here.”

  Glancing up, he spotted Roady holding the door of the hotel. “Hustle. Strange happenings going on tonight.”

  Francis and Nick hurried forward.

  Scooting inside, Roady closed the door without even a click of the lock and took a couple of rifles himself. They stealthily crept toward the stairs.

  “You don’t know the half of it,” Francis whispered. “Judge Wesley and a bunch more of the ranch hands are camped just outside town as we speak. Ike, Jonathan, Bob, Tanner, and Leonard Browning, attorney at law. We’re sitting good.”

  Nick’s smile stretched across his face. “I was never so glad to see those men.”

  “And you don’t know the other half,” Roady replied smugly. “Your sweetheart saw the real killer talking to Blanche through her bedroom window but can’t identify him.”

  Fumbling forward, Francis grasped Roady’s arm and pulled him to a halt. “Is she all right? Was she hurt?” The kiss today was fresh in his mind. He’d had to work to keep his thoughts on task. She meant the world to him.

  “She’s fine but scared. She snuck into town to tell you and was chased by the killer. We have a lot to discuss once the weapons are hidden. The murderer may make a move soon, even tonight, since his game is almost up.”

  Alarm raced through Francis amid the cigar smoke permeating from the rooms and parlor. “Where is she?”

  “Upstairs with Faith. Has a few scratches, but overall, she’s okay. Let’s get these guns taken care of. Nick, as soon as we do, go get your horse and ride out to Miss Adair’s house. Smokey is already there keeping watch. Miss Adair is worried about her mother being alone with Blanche. In the morning, we’ll present the new evidence to Jones and Clark and get Luke out.”

  Faith had just finished dressing Ashley’s wounds when a soft tap sounded on the door.

  Ashley bolted to her feet. Had whoever chased her found where she was hiding?

  Faith padded softly to the door and put her ear next to the wood.

  Colton, who’d woken up when Ashley arrived, followed his mother.

  “Who’s there?” Faith whispered.

  “Francis.”

  Relief stormed through Ashley. Did he have news of her mother? She couldn’t get the sight of the murderer by Blanche’s window out of her mind. She’d have to tell Jack Jones everything. What if he didn’t believe her? What if he called her a liar and the whole town turned against her? Several people had noticed her attraction to Francis. Her mother might even think she’d made up the story to please the young cowboy.

  Without giving a response, Mrs. McCutcheon opened the door, being careful not to make a sound.

  Instantly Francis’s gaze found hers. A feeling so strong almost made her cry. When had he become so important?

  He closed the distance between them in three strides and wrapped her in his arms.

  “I heard what happened,” he whispered against her hair, rocking her from side to side.

  They fit together perfectly, and nothing had ever felt so right. He didn’t seem concerned in the least that Mrs. McCutcheon watched.

  He pulled back far enough to see her face. “Are you okay?” His eyes softened at the sight of the now-cleaned wound, which felt hot and angry. “Does it hurt?”

  “Only when I smile.” And she did. Unable to keep the sentiment away now that Francis was here and she was in his arms. “But I’m concerned about my mother, if she’s safe. Blanche is involved, just like you thought. I don’t understand much of anything at the moment, and that makes me emotional.” She glanced at Colton, who watched them with interest.

  Faith had crossed the room, most likely to give them some privacy. Ashley had liked the woman’s warm concern when they’d met on the street. She could understand why Francis was so loyal to his employers. She’d only met Luke briefly, and at the time she’d thought him Benson’s murderer, but now she knew the truth. “Tomorrow, we’ll set things right,” she said softly. “Mr. McCutcheon will be free.”

  Francis stepped back and unbuckled first one gun belt, laying it on the bed next to the rifle, and then the second. Bending, he shimmied loose the wall board behind the bed and began placing the guns inside. “The man responsible will want you dead, Ashley,” he said softly as he replaced the board back in its slot, hiding the guns. “So you can’t tell what you know. Do you understand? We have to keep you safe.”

  She did, but here in the room with Francis, she felt completely safe. He’d not let anything happen to her. “I do. And I’ll be careful. Mr. Guthrie said I was to stay in this room with Mrs. McCutcheon. The cowboys next door will keep watch all night.”

  “That’s right, they will. And I’d trust any of them with my life. But I’ll not leave you alone.” He gazed into her eyes. “With Smokey out at your place, you, Faith, and Colton need a guard inside. That person is me.”

  She followed his gaze to the bed and the one gun he’d put on the bedside table, feeling a mixture of nerves and relief.

  “Don’t be afraid.” Francis stretched out on the bed, leaned back against the headboard, and opened his arms.

  Feeling a mite self-conscious, Ashley eased her way into his embrace, careful of her wounded cheek. “He found me in the woods on the shortcut to town,” she whispered close to Francis’s ear. “He chased me through the trees. I fell. I thought I was dead. Somehow, I escaped.” To her horror, hot tears pooled in her eyes, and a moment later, they spilled out. She had no way to express her relief at being here with Francis’s arms tight around her. As bad as her words would sound, she was worried about what others would think when she told the sheriff what she’d seen and heard tonight. But only because they would be her words against Blanche’s.

  With a gentle touch, he brushed a few strands of hair from her face and then dried her tears with a handkerchief Mrs. McCutcheon handed him. “You’ve nothin’ to worry about now. You’re safe. We have men and we have guns. When you tell Jack tomorrow what you know, he’ll have to lock up Blanche where she can’t hurt anyone else.” He looked at her and then over to Faith. “And there’s more good news, Faith. Colton. We have reinforcements camping close by. As well as a well-known judge.”

  Even in the dim lamplight, Ashley saw Faith’s expression brighten.

  “Really?” Faith said. “Harrison Wesley?”

  Francis nodded. “He’ll be in the sheriff’s office at sunup. We thought better than him riding in tonight with everyone’s nerves on edge. Men’re jumpy. The town’s walkin’ on eggshells. As long as things stay quiet, we just have a few hours to wait.”

  Ashley’s stomach squeezed. “But my mother? I need to do something.”

  “Smokey won’t let any harm come to her.”

  Trusting Francis, she laid her head on his chest, liking the sound of his beating heart. She was drawn to him like no other person in her life. Did they have a future together? His idea about moving to Y Knot was never far from her mind. Would someone actually kill her to keep her silent? That threat was difficult to believe.

  “You’re still trembling, darlin’,” Francis whispered, taking her into his arms. “You’ve nothin’ to fear. Roady’ll set up the meeting tomorrow so you’ll only have to tell your story once. Rest now. You’ll need your strength in the mornin’. Close your eyes and sleep. I’ll stay awake.”r />
  Ashley snuggled onto Francis’s warm chest feeling as if she’d been there her whole life. She was safe. Francis wouldn’t allow anyone or anything to hurt her. Faith had lain down on the other bed in the room and pulled her son close. Danger was just outside that door. Too bad they didn’t know whom they had to fear.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Jack Jones and Deputy Clark were having coffee at the sheriff’s desk when Francis walked in before sunup with Roady and Judge Wesley on one side and Ashley on the other. Ike, Jonathan, and Bob had stayed in the woods. Following behind were Faith, Leonard Browning, Pedro, Shad, and Colton. All the men, except him, had their sidearms. He would remedy that soon enough. An hour ago, Francis spotted Tanner outside the eatery, waiting for the place to open. The two made brief eye contact, but that was all. No one had heard from Smokey and Nick.

  When their group crowded into the small office, Jack shot to his feet, overturning his cup onto his messy desk. Coffee went everywhere.

  The deputy stood, a menacing scowl pulling his face.

  “What the hell?” Jack barked out. He shook the scalding liquid off his hand, splattering Clark in the face.

  The deputy gave an angry growl and wiped away the moisture.

  “That’s exactly what I’d like to know,” Harrison responded.

  The judge was an imposing figure when angry—and he was angry. Had been since he’d heard the news about Luke being locked up. The glower on his face exceeded that of the deputy and would scare the toughest criminal.

  Shock and then relief crossed Jack’s face when he recognized Harrison. “Judge! You’ve arrived. Thank you for coming. Tensions here are running high. I don’t like keeping a man locked up longer than necessary. He needs his day in court. Now that you’re here, should we plan on tomorrow? Will that—”