Montana Snowfall, page 24
part #7 of McCutcheon Family Series
“That is my fault, Sheriff. I didn’t want to get the child in trouble, so I went straight to Luke McCutcheon, since he vas the one who brought the boy to Y Knot. He said he’d take care of it. I hadn’t heard a thing until Jack came around and said he was getting close.”
Jack puffed out his chest, not backing down one iota. “He’s right! It’s the kid.” He glanced around. “The boy is guilty as sin. I’m breakin’ this case, then you’ll have to hire me back.”
“I don’t have to do anything,” Brandon said, then shot an angry glare at Luke that promised they’d discuss this later. He started for the bunkhouse.
Sally dropped Roady’s hand and ran to the front of the crowd that was marching toward the bunkhouse behind the sheriff. Spotting Hickory sitting quietly on his bunk, she ran to him and threw her arm around his thin shoulders. As the others came close, Hickory stood, and so did Sally.
Luke shouldered through the men to stand next to Brandon. “Hickory,” he began. “In light of your very brave act of valor this afternoon, saving Roady from that charging bear—”
Sally gasped and pulled Hickory closer.
Luke’s face held concern. “I have to ask you another question. I’m sorry.”
The room was dead quiet. Lucky stood next to Luke and Brandon, his face a mass of worried lines.
“You told me before you’d never stolen anything from the shops in Y Knot, and I believed you. Do you still stand by that statement?”
Chapter Fifty-Five
Hickory swallowed. Whatever he said, it wouldn’t be enough. They’d never believe him. What was the use in trying?
“Hickory?” Brandon went down on one knee and looked into his eyes.
“I ain’t never stole nothin’ from a shop in Y Knot. Not before, and not now.”
Jack pushed to the front. “He’s lying!”
Brandon stood.
Instantly, Hickory’s face flashed hot. He took a step toward his accuser. “I’m not!”
The large sheriff spun and grabbed Jack Jones by his shirt collar. “I’m arresting you, Jack,” he said, almost seething. “For impersonating a deputy.” He shoved the man away. “Now, keep your mouth shut!”
Sally’s arm across his back felt good, supportive, and gave Hickory courage. “I know who did, though.” He was embarrassed how shaky his voice sounded in front of all these people.
“Go on,” Sally encouraged.
He shrugged.
Brandon and Luke nodded. “You need to speak up now, son,” Luke said. “Tell everything you know.”
Hickory swept the room with a quick gaze. Every man leaned forward, waiting to hear what he had to say. Even the townspeople looked like they hoped he gave them the name of the real culprit. “I’m not sure if he’s the one who took everything, but when I was in the store”—he glanced at the stout German man—“the man in front of me palmed a pocketknife and stole it.”
“If you believe this little beggar,” Jack hollered, “you’re bigger fools than I thought!”
The moment the words were out of the ex-deputy’s mouth, Pedro grasped Jack’s arm and shoved it up behind his back, making him gasp in pain. “No more from you, gringo!”
“Why didn’t you report it?” Luke asked.
Hickory shrugged. “It’d be my word against his. And no one believes a kid, especially an orphan.” He’d hate to leave this ranch, he really would. “I wasn’t willin’ ta chance it.”
“I believe you,” Sally said.
Luke exchanged a look with Brandon. “And we do too. Is that fella here among us?”
Hickory dragged his gaze from the floorboards and looked around. He shook his head. “No, he don’t work out here. I seen him a time or two in town, but never at the ranch.”
The room came alive with talking, the spectators trying to figure out who the guilty party might be.
Jack glared, still unconvinced. “Check his pockets! Around his bed!”
Lucky drew up tall, an iron skillet still dangling in his hand. He pointed it at Jack’s face. “There ain’t nothin’ hid in my bunkhouse! If there was, I’d know.”
It was time to come completely clean. After which, he’d pack his duffel and make his way back to Waterloo. Maybe stay a day with Mrs. Mary Margaret while he figured out what his next step should be. She’d be glad to see him.
Digging in his pocket, he pulled out the orchid pin he’d lifted from the thief and had since kept with him at all times. He held out his hand for all to see. “I did take this, but not from some store.”
Everyone craned their necks to get a glimpse of what he held. Roady nodded encouragement from his spot next to Luke.
Hickory went on. “I saw the man take the knife. While he hid it in one hand, he dug for his money with his other ta pay for somethin’ else he was buyin’. The pin came out with the money and fell onto the counter. The way he picked it up real quick, I could tell he’d stolen it—just like he was stealin’ the pocketknife. I lifted it from his trouser pocket when he wasn’t lookin’.”
Hickory looked straight at Brandon to make his final point. “You just can’t trust a fella who don’t look ya in the eye.”
Brandon straightened. “Cade Morrow.”
Mark stepped forward from behind Luke and said, “Amy’s brother? Let me see that.” He examined the brooch. “This is Amy’s. I gave it to her for her birthday. Just yesterday she asked if I’d seen it anywhere.”
“Hickory ain’t been out ta Mark and Amy’s,” Francis said. “I know that for a fact. He’s like my little shadow.”
“Cade Morrow’s been in my establishment more times than I can count,” Mr. Lichtenstein said. “I never thought—”
“And mine too,” Berta May added. “He was there the day I discovered my expensive lace gone. The same day Hickory picked up some things I’d made for Mrs. McCutcheon. I remember because Mr. Morrow looked at it for a really long time. He said he was thinking of a birthday present for Amy.” She looked ashamed when she sought Hickory’s gaze.
“He’s been in my place plenty.” Mr. Herrick’s hangdog face made Hickory reach out and touch his arm.
Brandon turned on Jack. “When was the last time you saw Cade Morrow?”
“Two nights ago,” Jack said with less bravado. “In the saloon. Said he didn’t like Y Knot and was headin’ out.”
“Good job, Jones,” the sheriff said with disdain, then turned back to him. “Well, Hickory, I guess you saved Amy McCutcheon’s jewelry for her. If her brother still had it now, it would be long gone.” He crooked a brow, and the stern intensity of his gaze almost made Hickory squirm. “You won’t be taking anything else from anyone ever again. Am I correct with my assumption?”
Hickory straightened, shocked at the turn of events. A giddiness whispered through his heart, along with a deep gratitude as he looked up into Luke McCutcheon’s eyes. No, it was more than that, more like the love he used to feel when his pa carried him around on his shoulders that settled inside his soul.
Brandon Crawford cleared his throat. “Hickory?”
“No, sir, Sheriff! Never, ever again! You have my word.”
Brandon grasped his shoulder and smiled. “That’s good enough for me.”
Chapter Fifty-Six
Roady paced around Sally’s bedroom feeling like a caged coyote. A lantern glowed on the highboy, and the coverlet was turned back. Sally had hardly eaten a bite at supper, then claimed she needed a hot bath after the endless nerve-racking day. He’d taken the opportunity to use the tub from the bunkhouse and take a bath of his own.
After the ruckus with Hickory, Brandon took Jack and the rest of the Y Knot citizens back to town, determined to teach Jack a lesson by locking him up for a good long time. The ranch hands had smiled and nodded as Roady had walked away with Sally holding his arm. He wondered if any of them guessed that this would be his real wedding night. Let the silly, smiling ranch hands think what they would.
The bedroom door clicked open. Sally came in and set her toiletries on the highboy, then turned to search out his gaze. “You bathed as well?”
He nodded. “Thought it only fitting.”
She stepped into his arms, tipped her head up, and kissed his neck, surprising the heck out of him. “I’m glad. You smell nice.” She leaned back and smiled up into his face, looking prettier than Easter morning.
He played with a damp wisp of hair on her temple, still gun-shy to take her completely into his arms. “You smell nice too.” The bed was directly behind him. Was she waiting for him to scoop her up into his arms? Something inside told him to let her set the pace.
“Roady, there’s something I need to tell you. I should have told you the night we talked at the social in town.”
“You mean the night before we married?”
She nodded. A flicker of apprehension moved across her eyes.
“You can tell me anything, Sally.”
She pulled out of his arms and crossed her own. He wondered if she knew her stance held him at arm’s length. The tip of her tongue slipped out, wetting her lips, and then she swallowed. He wanted in the worst way to ease away the line pulling her brows together in worry.
“Until I read your note,” she said softly, “I never stopped to consider what you thought about how my baby was conceived.”
He waited.
She reached out a hand, but then let it fall to her side. “It’s not what you think. Not at all. What I told Shad Petty is the absolute truth. I was never in love with the baby’s father. In fact, I feel the opposite. I loathe him.”
Loathe him?
“He’s someone I considered a friend, until the day he took liberties.”
Took liberties? Against her will?
Shocked, Roady cut his gaze to the darkened window. What was she saying? Took liberties?
Had she been—
Now everything made perfect sense. A groan slipped from his lips. He remembered her shaky reaction in the cabin when they’d been playing checkers and he’d asked her about her boss. He should have figured it out sooner. Fury ripped through his heart. Someday the culprit would pay for hurting her. Roady would make sure of that. It might not happen this month, or even this year, but he would go to St. Louis to exact a portion of the pain that man had caused his sweet girl.
For now, he had more important things to do. He reached for her, needing to hold her, but she stepped back.
Understandable. He dropped his hands to his sides. “What happened? Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
Again she hugged herself, then lowered her eyes.
“Look at me, Sally. It’s okay.”
Her gaze came up and found his, grasping it as if it were her lifeline. “He was married. Somehow, I must have given him the wrong idea. I must have done something to lead him on, make him think—” Tears swam in her eyes. “I don’t know, I just don’t know. I’ve gone over it a thousand times in my mind. I knew his wife, and liked her. His children too. One day he just pushed me down and—”
She gagged, unable to go on.
“Shhh, darlin’, don’t cry,” he managed to get past his constricted throat. The horror and pain she’d endured gutted him. “It wasn’t your fault. I know you. You know you. You’d never even think of such a thing. The blame lies at his door.” The snake! “Don’t for one minute think anything else.”
He wanted to hold her in the worst way. “Can we sit down?” he said, gesturing to the chairs. “Or cuddle up on the bed? I’ll just hold you, nothing more. You have my word on that.”
She came into his arms then and let loose a tempest of tears. He held her racking body as she let all her pain gush out. She balled his shirt into her fists and held on as wave after wave of grief rocked her soul. She cried until her tears soaked through his shirt and there were none left.
When her legs buckled, Roady scooped her up into his arms and laid her on the bed, covered her with the blankets, and then scooted in beside her.
“Shhh, darlin’,” he crooned, slowly stroking her hair as her head pillowed on his chest. “Shhh now, sweetheart. You’re gonna be okay, I promise. No one will ever hurt you again. I’ll make sure of that. You have my word.”
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Two weeks flew by in the blink of an eye. Sally inspected her supper table carefully, then turned to scrutinize the rest of her cozy home. Her gaze meandered the room, stopping on the rifle Roady had mounted over the fireplace. Satisfied everything was in order, she hurried out onto the new porch. The view of the expansive pasture and the river that cut through the property always brought a jolt of happiness.
Stepping off, Sally picked up her skirt and started for the new barn the townsfolk helped them raise. “Roady,” she called at the wide-open doors. “You in here?”
“Up in the loft.”
She placed her hands on her hips and gazed up. “That bath water won’t stay hot forever.” She tried to sound irritated, but the sight of her husband, especially with a few pieces of hay in his tousled hair, made that next to impossible. He knew how to work that dangerous smile of his. “It’s already five o’clock. Our guests will arrive before you have time to clean up.”
He descended the ladder, his approach reminding her of a tiger she’d seen once in the St. Louis zoo.
“Too bad you’re already in your good dress,” he said, hungrily looking her up and down as he approached. The tease stopped one inch in front of her, his soiled clothes in contrast to her pretty blue dress.
“Yes, too bad.” She arched a brow. “But your lips look impeccably clean.”
Leaning in, he kissed her, long and sweet. Heat pooled in her belly, and she marveled how perfectly things had turned out. It was still so hard to believe.
He pulled back and searched her eyes. He must have found the answer to his unspoken question because he laughed, then warmed her further with a smile. “So, did you get any writing done on your novel this afternoon? When I left, you were in deep concentration, bent over your notebook.”
“I did! Five pages. Sometimes my pen can’t keep up with my mind.”
He laughed again, looking curious. “Have you written about me yet?”
Embarrassed, because indeed, she had a difficult time thinking of anything else when she escaped into her imaginary world of heroes and heroines. “Never! I’m keeping you all to myself.”
She took his hand and pulled him toward the house. “Now, come on. I don’t want Heather and June to see you in such a state.”
“What about Hayden and Morgan?”
She giggled. “I’m sure they’ve seen worse.”
Almost to the house, Sally stopped. “Look.” She pointed up at the fluffy, rosy-hued clouds that filled the endless sky. “Is that the same hawk we saw before?”
He followed her gaze. “Most likely. I discovered a nest in the stand of pines behind the barn. I’m sure it’s one of the pair. If we’re lucky, come spring, we’ll be able to see some chicks as they lose their down and learn to fly.”
A moment passed. “What do you think everyone will say when we make our announcement tonight? Will they believe the baby is ours?”
He took a moment to wholeheartedly consider her question as his gaze touched every part of her face. “Without a doubt. Because the little rascal is our baby, and no one will tell us otherwise.”
Filled with emotion, Sally turned into his arms and buried her face in his chest.
“Hey, hey,” he said as he tried to pull away. “I don’t want to get you dirty.”
“I love you so much, Roady. When I think of everything that’s transpired since leaving St. Louis, it’s difficult to believe. Finding that hunting cabin was the best thing that ever happened to me.” When she pulled back and looked up into his eyes, she saw her love returned tenfold. “I can’t live without you, my love. I hope you know that.”
He cupped her face between his warm palms, his lips hovering just above hers. “Don’t worry, darlin’. You’ll never have to.”
Read on for an excerpt of Texas Lonesome, Book Eight of
The McCutcheon Family Series!
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Acknowledgements
As I began the adventure of creating a new story for the McCutcheon Family Series, I wondered what Roady Guthrie had in store for me. He’s been with the series from as far back as the fourth chapter of the first book, MONTANA DAWN, looking out for his loved ones, giving advice, and generally making me laugh. His big heart and good sense have made him one of my favorite characters. In essence, I love him as much as I do Luke, and that is saying a lot. You may think it strange for an author to fall in love with his or her heroes and heroines, but that is the case, at least with me. Because of my deep affection for him, Roady’s story had to be worthy or nothing at all. Needless to say, I think this book may be my favorite to date.
