fierce dark eyes, and the white slash of a scar from temple to chin. It was Marie, all right.
“So Sky’s cousin is up to her old tricks,” Will muttered, handing the paper back to Beau. “Looks like she might’ve been a little careless this time. You say you showed this to Sky?”
“I did. Sky said he’d washed his hands of her. Can’t say I blame him after the woman shot Jasper, likely murdered her own brother, and damn near killed Lauren. I just hope she ends up behind bars, where she belongs.”
“Even with all that, I can’t help feeling sorry for her,” Natalie said. “What chance did she have, growing up in that horrible family, and then having her ex-husband slash her face?”
“Sky grew up in the same family, and he’s got his own scars,” Beau said. “Everybody has choices. Marie made hers.”
“Hey, I smell something good!” Erin dashed toward the kitchen doorway, where Bernice had just appeared. “Is it brownies?”
“It is, honey,” Bernice said. “I just took a batch out of the oven and iced them. I can already hear Jasper at the back door. He’s got a nose like an old coyote! Who else is hungry?”
“Me!” Erin bounded into the kitchen.
“Me too,” Beau said. “But I’ll have to grab one and eat on the run. I’ve got to get back to work.”
“Count me in,” Natalie said, laughing. “After all, I’m eating for two! How about you, Tori?”
“Sure. I . . . didn’t eat much lunch.” She moved toward the kitchen, paused, then turned back. “Will? Are you coming?”
Will hesitated, then shook his head and turned away. One more memory of the family gathered around the kitchen table, talking and laughing, would be enough to break him. In his mind he was already distancing himself from the things he loved—the things that, days from now, if the trial went badly, would no longer be part of his life.
* * *
Ralph Jackson’s funeral took place the following Monday afternoon in the Community Church on the outskirts of town. Glancing back from his seat in the front pew, Abner experienced a rare sense of satisfaction. The small chapel was filled to the doors. Bethel’s friends in the congregation had come to support her, which was to be expected. But what pleased him most was that the back rows were filled by folks from the Rimrock.
True, Abner wasn’t on friendly terms with the Tylers. But according to custom, when a family death occurred, differences were put aside long enough to pay respects. Will Tyler, looking drawn and restless, was seated on the aisle, with his young daughter beside him. No sign of Tori, but someone had mentioned she was in court today. Beau was there with Natalie. Sky, still looking raw around the edges, had come with the Prescott girl. Even Jasper was there, wearing a twenty-year-old brown suit that was too big for his age-shrunken body. The row behind them was filled with cowhands who’d worked with Ralph.
All in all, it’s a nice turnout. Really nice, Abner thought. And the medical examiner had been thoughtful enough to release the body for a timely funeral. Ralph’s death had been ruled a tragic accident, a consequence of his trying to save the Tylers’ horses. By now, the burnt truck had been found. The evidence showed it had been stolen and vandalized, probably by a teenage gang. Thanks to Abner, no one would ever know the truth about Ralph—except maybe Stella, who had every reason to keep it to herself.
Abner’s family filled the entire front pew of the little church. Bethel sat beside him, putting on a good show of grief for a woman who’d detested her son-in-law. Vonda, in black, wept quietly as she soothed her baby. She was still a pretty girl—pretty enough, hopefully, to find a better husband than Ralph had been. Next to Vonda, the other Sweeney children sat in descending order, like steps. Even the younger ones were awed into silence by the occasion. They sat with their arms folded, and their feet, in hand-me-down shoes, dangling from the bench.
The Tylers’ insurance had paid for the funeral. It would also pay out a handsome benefit to Vonda and her child; and Ralph would go down in memory as the hero who’d sacrificed his life for his employer’s horses. Abner smiled to himself. All in all, things could be worse.
Sometimes the ends really did justify the means.
* * *
Will had given the men who’d known Ralph a couple of hours