Chapter Thirty-Seven

Roady held the door as Pedro and Shad entered his and Francis’s small hotel room. “Take a seat,” he said quietly. Pedro sat at the foot of Francis’s bed, the covers thrown up haphazardly, while Shad took a chair by the window, the creaking of the old wood the only sound in the room.

Scents of dried grass, flowers in bloom, and the need for a long summer rain wafted inside. The blissful summer smells were in opposition with the seriousness of the meeting at hand. They’d eaten their breakfast across the street in the restaurant. Luke should be free by now. Out from behind bars and back in Y Knot. They were due some kind of break in the case.

Wary, Roady glanced at Shad and Pedro and mentally kicked himself for not bringing along more ranch hands.

After breakfast, Faith had insisted she take Colton for a walk out of town in the hills, somewhere where the boy could get his mind off his pa. The boy was brooding. Hadn’t said more than a few words to any of them, believing this fiasco was his fault. And of course, where she and Colton went, Smokey went too.

Hopefully they wouldn’t stay away from the jail too long. Luke was tense, and Roady couldn’t blame him in the least. But Roady agreed the walk would be a good diversion. After they’d eaten, Francis went to check the stock. Roady didn’t have a clue about Nick, and doubted Shad knew either. That kid was a livewire.

“I’m more than worried,” Roady said. “We’ve only ruled out two men from Francis measuring boots he’d seen lying around. This case building is taking too long. By the time we find the real killer, we’ll have one foot in the grave ourselves.”

Pedro took out his cigarette papers and began to roll a smoke.

“Anyone have anything new to report? Any baffling sly looks, people who may have any unexplainable cuts or bruises? Things like that.” He knew they didn’t. If anyone came up with something, he reported right away. Roady was pulling at straws. “We gotta find out who made that bloodstained footprint in the cabin.”

Shad leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. “Has anyone done any checking on the money clip? That may be our best clue. Why wait?”

“Yeah, you’re right. Ask Francis. As soon as he shows up, I’ll get started with Joe’s wife. Anyone see Fox Dancing or Painted Bear Stone last night? Luke says they’re here, but I’ve not seen a trace.”

“They stay hidden,” Pedro whispered. “I see them, or should I say they let me see them. They make sure no one takes Luke from jail before trial.” He inhaled, held the smoke for a moment, and then let a white trail drift up into his eyes.

For as much progress as they’d made, the lot of ’em could have just stayed home at the ranch. How was Sally faring? And Gillian? His brand-spanking-new daughter of only a few weeks. Did she miss her pa? He’d hated to leave them so soon after her birth, but with Brandon gone, he hadn’t had a choice. He ached to hold her and Sally too.

Sally had done so well in labor, hardly making a sound even though the birth lasted over twenty-four hours. That night was the longest of his life. With each hour that passed, his fears had grown. Hayden did his best to keep him sane each time he heard a cry or whimper coming from down the hall, but delivery is a hell only an expectant father can know.

“Roady?”

The men looked at him, strange expressions on their faces.

“Where’d you go, man?” Shad asked.

“Slipped back to—”

At that moment, Nick came through the door. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, making his way to the vacant bed to sit. “Heard some talk while I was at the barber.” He motioned to his newly trimmed hair.

Shad’s face turned stony. “You think you had time for a haircut and shave?”

Nick scowled back at his brother and ran fingers over his ears. “Sometimes the best place to hear natter is where you’d least expect, like under a barber’s hot towel.”

Pedro mumbled something, nodding.

“Anyway, if you’ll let me finish, you just might be patting me on the back. Like I said, my face was hidden under a towel when I heard voices of men in the doorway. They asked how long until the barber would be free. Then one of them said Luke’s name, and my ears perked up.”

Shad leaned forward.

Roady held his breath. Nick better not be blowing smoke to get out of trouble for being late. “And?” he prompted. Sometimes Nick had a way of enhancing the story. “Did you see who was talking?”

Nick glanced around the room, looking each man in the eye. “They dropped their voices, but I heard the word rope and then lynch. That’s when I pretended to sneeze and peeked out.” He sternly raised a brow. “And I want you to know, I almost got my throat cut in the process too. Anyway, the men were Daniel Clevenger and Pink Kelly. They heard Judge Wesley might be on his way. Everyone knows the McCutcheons and Wesley are good friends. They were going on that he’ll release Luke no matter what Mrs. Van Gleek says.”

If Nick was worried, then they’d better up their game, get to work, real work, and also come up with an alternate plan in case Wesley didn’t arrive in time. Roady squared his shoulders. “I won’t let Luke be lynched.”

The men watched him in silence.

“I’m in,” Pedro whispered. “Smokey will be too. And no question about Francis.”

“And me.” Shad looked at his brother, who nodded.

Relief washed through Roady. These men were ranchers, not hired guns. He couldn’t expect them to put their lives on the line if they didn’t want to. “Then we need to come up with a plan in case anyone decides to do more than talk.” The guns were still hidden in the ripped-up floorboards of an abandoned house on the outskirts of town. “Time to retrieve our weapons,” he said. “To have on hand. Nick, when Francis gets back, the two of you take care of that. Split them up in these two rooms where we can get to them quickly but where they won’t be found.”

Nick sat up and glanced around. “Hey, where is Francis?”

“He’ll be along.”

Nick scoffed. “With Miss Adair, no doubt.”

Nick’s sour expression rankled Roady’s nerves.

“He’s more interested in her than springing Luke,” Nick said.

“Hold up,” Shad demanded before Roady could get out the words.

“Did you hear your orders, Nick?” Roady asked, reining in his temper. “I don’t want you complaining you didn’t understand.” Nick was a flirt, where Francis was stalwart and a bit shy. Someday the two might come to blows.

“Sure I did. I can do the job myself if he don’t show up soon. Probably easier,” he finished, mumbling under his breath. “Just give the go-ahead, and I’ll be happy to.”

“Right now, I want the two of you to do the chore together. Won’t be easy gettin’ ’em moved without being seen. Clark knows they’re stashed somewhere, and he’s been watchin’.”

Once they had some firepower, Roady would feel a hell of a lot better, even if hidden away close. Walking around town with the hostility aimed their way was no picnic. They were the good guys, not the bad guys. The sooner Harrison Wesley showed up, the better he’d sleep.