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.”

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.