CHAPTER 38

The motley procession started for Fergus. The Harpers’ wagon pulled out first, loaded with townspeople. Libby sat in the back of Josiah Runnels’s wagon with Isabel and the Bentons. They’d persuaded Isabel to let Arthur Tinen Jr. transport her father’s body in the wagon behind them. Libby was glad she didn’t have to sit close to the corpse, but she would have if Isabel had insisted. Hiram and Trudy rode their horses alongside them. Ethan rode at the head of the procession with some of the other men. The wagon bearing Kenton and his dead ranch hands followed several yards behind.

Within a mile of the Fennel ranch, several riders galloped toward them. Cyrus’s men paused to speak to the sheriff then rode on back and clustered their horses around the wagon in which Isabel rode.

The oldest of the cowboys lifted his hat and eyed her sorrowfully. “Is it true, Miss Isabel? Is your father dead?”

“Yes Brady. I’m having him laid out at the livery in town, where folks can stop in and see him before the funeral. I’ll be stopping at home for a minute to pack a few things. I’m staying in town tonight with Mrs. Adams.”

Brady touched the brim of his hat. “All right, miss. If you need anything, you let us know. The boys and I will go into town and make sure they tend to your papa right.”

“Thank you.”

Brady turned his horse and trotted back to the wagon behind them. He and the cowboys gazed into the bed then fell in behind.

At the lane to the Fennel ranch, Josiah turned in. His father and Arthur continued on, driving their grim burdens toward Fergus.

Ethan called to the freighter, “We’ll be just a few minutes, Oscar. Head for the livery, and I’ll be along before you get there.”

Most of the townspeople went on, but Ethan and the Dooleys followed Josiah’s wagon to the Fennel house.

Apphia Benton slid toward the back of the wagon. “My dear, I can go in with you and help you gather your things.”

“Thank you.” Isabel climbed down.

The pastor got out of the wagon, too. Libby stayed put and watched the three go into the house. Ethan and the Dooleys dismounted and walked their horses over close to the wagon.

Ethan said, “We thought maybe we’d ought to have a little discussion while Miss Isabel’s inside.”

“What about?” Libby asked.

“Her uncle Kenton.”

“What about him?”

Ethan pushed his hat back and looked around at them. “Hiram, Trudy …” He glanced toward the wagon. “You know about this, too, Miz Adams.”

Libby gathered her skirts and hopped to the ground. Josiah had climbed from the wagon seat and was checking his team’s harness. Libby glanced at him and walked a few steps away with the others.

Ethan scratched his jaw. “The way I see it, we four are the only ones besides Isabel who know about that metal box her daddy buried behind the barn.”

“Metal box?” Libby looked quickly from one face to another. “He buried a box?”

Trudy shrugged. “You knew he buried something. Isabel told you.”

“Yes, of course, but I didn’t realize you’d learned what it was.”

“We went and dug it up this morning when Cyrus got the note and tore off,” Trudy said. “When we got to his ranch, he wasn’t here, so we decided to settle the question of what he’d buried.”

“And you uncovered a can?” Libby asked.

Ethan nodded. “A tin like crackers and things come in. There’s a pouch of coins in it and a wanted poster showing Kenton Smith and Mary Fennel—under different names.”

Libby opened her mouth then closed it. Her brain whirled as she tried to make sense of that.

Trudy squeezed her arm. “Isabel’s confided in you more than anyone else in town. You’re probably her best friend right now. This morning we three rode out and met Cyrus and told him we’d dug up his secret. And he told us some shocking bits of family history.”

“Isabel’s not his daughter,” Libby said with sudden certainty.

They all stared at her.

“How did you know that?” Trudy asked.

Libby puffed out a breath. “Something happened many years ago—it’s not important what—but Mary Fennel said something to me I’ve never forgotten. She said Cyrus wanted a child of his own.”

“That fits.” Ethan gritted his teeth and looked toward the ranch house.

Hiram reached down and plucked a grass stem and stuck the end in his mouth.

“So do we all agree that it wouldn’t do Isabel any good to know that?” Trudy asked. “Cyrus said Kenton didn’t know she was his daughter.”

“And Isabel certainly didn’t know,” Libby said. “It explains a lot of things, though. Why Cyrus has acted so strangely, and why he let Kenton stay on his land.”

“Kenton was blackmailing him,” Ethan said. “When he was arrested for robbery and put in prison, Mary took off with Cyrus—and the loot they’d collected from Kenton’s robberies. Sounds like she may have helped him in some of those crimes. When Kenton was released, he tracked them out here. He wanted his share, and Cyrus didn’t have it. That’s why Kenton grabbed Isabel—to put pressure on Cyrus.”

Libby’s heart ached at the sordid sadness of it. “You mean … they weren’t legally married.”

Trudy winced and nodded.

“I never would have guessed Mary could take part in anything like that.”

“Well, we’ve only Cy’s word and an old wanted poster,” Ethan said. “But why would he lie about something like that?”

Trudy straightened her shoulders. “Since Kenton and Cyrus are both dead, why not let this secret die, too? Why should we give Isabel more reason to grieve?”

Hiram nodded. He arched his eyebrows at Ethan.

“But if they were criminals …” Ethan looked around at his friends.

Trudy scowled at him. “All the criminals are dead, Ethan, except for the three cowpokes that escaped this morning. And we don’t know that they did anything but follow their boss’s orders.”

Ethan sucked air in between his teeth. “I guess. But I’m supposed to uphold the law.”

“And so you do, sweetheart.” Trudy slipped her hand through the crook of his arm. “It’s a shame about Cyrus, but I suspect the other men who were killed have a lot of dark deeds in their past.”

“One of the others is hurting, thanks to you,” Hiram said.

Ethan eyed him testily. “We should have gone after them.”

“No,” Libby said. “The most important thing was finding Isabel. By the time we knew she was safe, those cowpokes were halfway to Nampa.”

“I expect you’re right.” Ethan sighed. “All right. I’ll go along with you, though I’m not sure it’s the best thing to do. But I’m telegraphing the authorities in Boise and Nampa when we get back to town.”

“Not a bad idea,” Hiram said.

“Libby, you okay with that?” Trudy looked to her friend with arched brows.

Libby spread her hands. “At this point, I’ll do anything that will help Isabel, so long as we don’t have to lie to her. She’ll be more at peace burying Cyrus if she goes on believing he’s her father.”

Trudy gazed up into Ethan’s face. “I feel the same way. At least … she’d be less at peace if she knew who her real papa was.”

Ethan rubbed the back of his neck. “All right.”

Hiram slapped him on the back. “There you go.”

Trudy leaned close to her brother’s face and said sternly, “But this is something none of us four can ever tell anyone, and we’d do best not even to talk about it amongst ourselves ever again. As far as we know, well … we don’t. That is, we don’t know anything.”

“Agreed,” Libby said quickly.

The door to the house opened, and Pastor Benton emerged carrying a valise.

“The ladies will be right out. Miss Fennel wanted to tend to a few things in the kitchen.”

“Let me take that bag.” Ethan took the valise and hefted it into Josiah’s wagon.

As Libby turned to follow, she darted a glance at Hiram. Despite the day’s grim events, he gave the appearance of a man at peace. He met her gaze, and just before he turned toward the hitching rail, she could have sworn he winked at her.