Chapter 23
Brynn’s eyes grew heavy, but she was also trying to stay awake so that she could talk with Tillie. With the fair in full force, Brynn knew she didn’t have a lot of time. Nobody did.
The door creaked open and Tillie walked into the room.
“How are you feeling?”
“I’ve been better. How are the girls?”
“I’m sure they miss you. Especially Jewel. She’s still not acclimated.”
Brynn felt a surge of longing for the little Highland cow. Poor thing. She’s lost the only person she’d ever known and, until that point, had been living a secluded life in the mountains, having no cow friends. Brynn thought she might try to sneak out and see Jewel and her other cows tomorrow.
“Do you have a moment?” Brynn asked.
“Not a long one, unfortunately,” Tillie said. “What’s up?” She plopped onto a chair.
Becky walked into the room. “Can I get you anything, Tillie?”
“Nah, I’m good, thanks,” she said. “What’s up, Brynn?”
“I wonder how well you know Chelsea?”
“She’s a couple of years younger than me, but I do know her.”
“This is going to sound strange, but . . . I think she may have something to do with all of this madness . . . the murder . . . Wes being accused.”
“What do you mean? Like her setting him up? That kind of thing?” Tillie asked.
“I’m not sure. But something.” Brynn watched as Tillie looked away, then she checked her phone.
“I don’t like talking bad about people—”
“I know she’s got a lot of boyfriends,” Brynn said.
“That’s not what I mean.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s not smart enough. I can’t see her planning anything at all. She was held back twice. She’s got a learning disability or something. I don’t know what. She’s beautiful and all the boys like her, but not because she’s smart. Do you know what I mean?”
Chelsea’s character became a little more sympathetic to Brynn. Not smart. Learning disability. And so troubled like that at the age of sixteen, she slept around. Frequently.
“I had no idea,” Brynn said.
“Yeah. Why would you?” Tillie said. “I only know because we go to the same school.” She paused. “But if you can think of anything to help Wes out, I’m here. Just let me know.”
Brynn explained her theory about Chelsea and her boyfriends.
“As I said, I don’t see Chelsea doing that, but possibly one of her boyfriends,” Tillie said. “I’m sorry. I’ve got to go. I need to help out at the fair tonight. Mom and Dad signed me up to help at the CSA booth.”
“Have fun,” Brynn said, and smiled.
“Right,” Tillie said, and laughed.
* * *
The next day, Brynn awakened at her usual time, 5:00 AM. The room was still dark with a hint of light, and she took a moment and felt a wave of gratitude. She was going to be okay. Wes could have been killed, and he wasn’t. They had survived an attack at the cheese shed. Much to be grateful for.
But he was in jail for a murder he didn’t commit. Something needed to be done.
She mulled over what she learned from Tillie and almost ruled Chelsea out. But just because a person isn’t bright in school didn’t mean they couldn’t be a brilliant, devious thief or murderer.
She untangled herself from her covers as the sound of a car in the driveway prompted her—it was Schuyler or Willow to see to the cows. She wasn’t sure which one of them had the duty today. She felt like such a slug.
She slowly stood and walked to her bedroom door, opened it to the scent of coffee. Becky must be messing about in the kitchen. Brynn descended the stairs and was happy that she didn’t get dizzy. Not once.
Maybe she could visit her cows.
She breathed in the scent of coffee. It sent pings through her—just the scent alerted her senses.
“Brynn, you’re awake,” Becky said as Brynn entered the kitchen. “You should have let me help you downstairs,”
“I did okay,” Brynn said. “I didn’t get dizzy once. I think I’m all better.”
Becky shot Brynn a look of incredulity. “Just because you are able to get downstairs doesn’t mean you’re all better.”
Brynn knew that. “Let me celebrate my small success with a huge mug of coffee, please!”
Becky smiled. “Sit down. I’ll get it for you.”
“So what did you find out from Tillie last night?” Becky asked as she poured coffee.
“Not much, really. Just that Chelsea may have a learning disability or something. She’s been held back twice in school.”
Becky put the cup of steaming coffee in front of Brynn. “So she’s not the criminal mastermind you thought she could be.”
“No, but that doesn’t mean none of her boyfriends are.” Brynn held the coffee in her hands and let the warmth of it travel through her.
“I’ve been thinking,” Becky said.
“Uh-oh.”
She waved her sister off. “What if this has nothing to do with her at all, but everything to do with Wes?”
Brynn set her cup on the table. “What do you mean?”
“Of course I don’t mean that he actually killed someone. But perhaps someone has it in for him and is setting him up.”
“But why?”
“Brynn, I know it’s difficult to believe there’re racists in the world. But there are. What I’m saying is someone wants to get rid of Wes.”
“By killing someone else? That doesn’t make sense.”
“No,” Becky said. “That’s not exactly what I mean. They may not have killed the person to set Wes up, but since they already did it . . .”
“They tried to frame him.” Brynn had already thought of that. But didn’t give it too much weight. Seemed like a lot of trouble for someone to go to. But then again, you couldn’t get in more trouble than killing a person in cold blood. Brynn tried to clear her mind.
* * *
“I’m going to take a walk outside to visit with the girls,” Brynn said.
“I’ll come with you,” Becky said.
“Fine, but I swear I’m better.”
“You don’t want my company?”
“Stop. Of course I do.”
“Let’s go, then.”
The two sisters walked out into the morning air—it was already hot and humid at 6:00 AM. Willow walked around the corner and saw them. “Good morning,” she said. “You’re looking great.” She cocked an eyebrow. Both women were still in their pajamas.
“Nothing but cows out here this morning, right?” Becky said.
“Everything is done,” Willow said. “You don’t need to worry about anything.”
“I miss the girls,” Brynn said, walking toward the field. “I thought the fresh air might do me good. I had no idea it was so hot already this morning.”
“Yes, temperatures have been setting records. Attendance at the fair has sucked because of the heat. I’d say we need a good storm to cool things off, but so many times it makes it worse.”
“We could use the rain,” Brynn said. The grass was brown and crunchy. She wouldn’t water the lawn, considering it a waste of good water.
They walked through the gate and into the field. Petunia, Marigold, and Buttercup sauntered over to her. Jewel started to come but spotted the other cows and stopped. The dog circled Brynn’s legs. She oohed and ahhed over her girls—scratching them in their preferred spots: Petunia, behind the ears, Buttercup, under the chin, and Marigold, on the nose.
“My sweet girls,” she said.
The little Highland cow lifted her head and looked toward the party. Brynn walked over to her and her tail swayed. “Hello, girl. How are you doing?”
The cow blinked her big cow eyes, mooed, and nuzzled Brynn. Her heart nearly broke from the gesture. Jewel had missed her, too.
It had only been a few days, but it was clear she’d been missed by her animals. She petted the furry cow and drew in a breath. The heat was obnoxious.
“How are you?” Becky said. “We should go back inside.”
“Yeah, you should. It’s too hot out here for anybody, let alone a person with a concussion,” Willow said. “I’ve got to get going. The craft hall had problems last night, and I told them I’d help with repairs this morning.”
“Thanks for helping out,” Brynn said. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.” The three of them walked toward the gate and opened it, then walked through it toward the car and the house.
“Is Wes still in jail?” Willow asked.
“I think so. The last thing I heard was from you yesterday. I’ve not even seen Nathaniel.” They glanced in the direction of the guest house where Was lived and Nathaniel was staying. His car was there. Brynn didn’t recall hearing it last night, so she had no idea when he’d gotten in. “He must be livid with the local police and investigation.”
“And scared,” Becky said. “I know if it was Lily, I’d be so afraid for her.”
“Me too,” Brynn said. “Surely they will let Wes out on bail or something.”
“I don’t know how any of that world works,” Willow said as she opened her car door. She stopped, turned around, and hugged Brynn. “Take care of yourself today. Try not to overdo it.”
“Have you met my sister, Becky? She’s the queen of concussion care.” Brynn smiled and Becky laughed.
“Whatever,” Becky said.
Becky and Brynn stopped and waved as Willow drove off.
“Let’s go back inside,” Becky said. “Where it’s nice and cool.”
“Good idea.” Brynn hadn’t quite gotten her fill of the cows, but it was better than nothing and she had to admit to a sense of weakness—but only to herself. It was strange how one conk on the head set you back. With memory. With energy. With thinking.
Becky and Brynn headed for the house and into the kitchen.
“I made a little something light for breakfast this morning,” Becky said. “It won’t be too much on your stomach.” She opened the fridge and pulled out two bowls. Brynn peered inside as she placed them on the table.
A big, plump deep purple blackberry sat on the top of creamy yogurt. “Looks delicious,” Brynn said, and took a bite, with the berry bobbling around in her mouth before she bit into it, releasing the sweet juice. “Gosh, that’s good,” she said after she chewed and swallowed. “Did you add vanilla or something in there, too?”
“Yes. Glad you like it. There’s some dry oatmeal and nuts sort of down toward the bottom, too. Not much. I worried about your stomach.”
Brynn tucked back into her yogurt. “You’re so good to me.”
“You’re the only sister I got.” Becky smiled. “I talked with our brother last night. He said he hopes you feel better soon.”
“Is he still talking about giving us a cruise on his ship?”
“Yes. Maybe next Christmas. All of us.”
Brynn’s spirits lifted imagining their whole family on a cruise for Christmas. It would be odd without snow, but that was never a guarantee, especially in Virginia. Last Christmas was her first Christmas alone—after her breakup with her fiancé. Becky surprised her by coming for a visit.
Her brain started to fog up again. She supposed it would be this way for a few days—a few moments of clarity, and then fogginess.
She sighed a heavy sigh of frustration.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m getting a bit frustrated with my head,” Brynn replied, and smiled.
“Oh, that. I’ve been frustrated with your head for years,” Becky said, and laughed.
Sisters, ya gotta love them.