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.

If she and Blanche hadn’t already been awake, no one would have been the wiser. The horses were too far away for her to identify any of the riders, and she wondered if one of them was Francis. He was so sure Luke McCutcheon hadn’t murdered Benson. Because of that, he was a very compelling witness. She chanced a glance to her side to find Blanche staring at her again.

She swallowed. “I guess I’ll go back to bed.” Ashley wondered if she’d stay upright on her shockingly weak knees. She pressed the glass against her middle to keep it from trembling.

“Don’t you want a glass of water? That’s what you got up for.”

“Oh, yes, of course. The cowboys made me forget. I’ll get that now.” She was chattering like a frightened schoolchild. Before Blanche could say anything else, Ashley turned and hurried to the kitchen, a drink of water the very last thing on her mind.