Jelly went, hanging his head and dragging his feet. “You’ll tell them how I stayed in the saddle?”
“I will.” She was a little surprised he hadn’t already told the tale. Wondering what had kept him quiet on that score, Laurel looked at her hat again, lifting it for a better view. She turned it slowly. A small vertical crease appeared between her eyebrows as she realized she was the only one breathing. “What in the world—” Squinting, she jabbed her index finger through a hole in the crown of her hat. “Is this what I think it is?” Without waiting for an answer, she turned the hat one hundred eighty degrees and found another hole on the other side of the crown. Fury kept her knees from buckling.
“Does Mr. Berry know about this?”
Rooster shook his head. “I didn’t tell him because Ididn’t notice it when I picked it up. Call saw it when I brought it back.”
“I had no idea,” she said. “I never heard a shot.”
Call spoke slowly, carefully, but his thoughts were already leaping ahead of his words. “With that thunder, you wouldn’t have. Tell us what happened.”
Laurel described the race to catch Jelly and how she leaned forward to urge Abby to a faster pace. “That’s about the time I lost the hat. I didn’t think anything of it except to figure it was the wind.” Her dark eyes darted around the circle, looking each man in the eye, not accusingly but wonderingly. “I don’t understand. Who would do this? Who wants me dead?” When no one spoke, she said, “That was surely the intent, wasn’t it? That shot was meant to kill me, not merely frighten me.”
“I’m afraid so,” said Call. Contrary to the calm in his voice, his hands were curling and uncurling into fists at his sides.
“But who—? Why?” She frowned deeply. “Besides all of you, who knew I was showing Berry the back property?” Laurel watched all eyes turn to Dillon. Beside her, the young man hunched his shoulders and stared at the floor. “Dillon? It seems as if you know something.”
He nodded, swallowed hard, and still couldn’t speak. Neither could he look at Laurel.
Rooster jabbed him with an elbow. “Go on. Tell her. Ain’t none of it your fault. She’ll know that.”
Standing next to Laurel, Dillon spoke quietly. He’d already told the others what had happened so now his explanation was for Laurel alone. “I spoke to the Kinseys about a room for Mr. Berry and was on my way back. It hadn’t started raining yet so I was taking my time. Chatted some with my pa about nothing to do with anything. You know how he is.”
Laurel nodded. She was anxious for him to get to the point but knew him well enough to let him find his way.
“So shortly after I left him, I see the sheriff stepping kinda lively out of Mrs. Fry’s place. I waved to him, politeand all, even though I think he’s a humbug with a badge. He waved me over, which I didn’t expect, so I went. He asked how things were at the station, and I didn’t see the harm in telling him that the government man was visiting. He was real interested in that on account of what it could mean for Falls Hollow. That’s what he said. So I told him about you taking Mr. Berry over the ground behind the town, how you thought it’d be a good tract to lay down rails. He was impressed. I could tell he was, but then he waved me off real abrupt and headed to his office like someone lit a fire under him.”
“You’re certain you didn’t speak to anyone else about where I was going?”
“I’m certain, ma’am.”
“Look at me, Dillon.” She waited him out and he finally lifted his head and met her eyes squarely. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Do you hear me? I never told you to keep where I was going a secret. Itwasn’ta secret. Are you listening? It wasn’t a secret.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Sighing, Laurel turned to Rooster. “You talk some sense into him later.” She addressed the group. “Are all of you thinking it was Rayleigh Carter who took a shot at me?”
Call said, “We are. I told them what we know about Josey Pye’s murder and about Carter’s Springfield rifle. They made the connections you’re making now.”
“But why would he do it? Even if he killed Mr. Pye, that was about the payroll. Why would I be a target?”
“Maybe it’s never been about the money,” said Call. “Or not only about the money. Rooster thinks it’s about the station, the railroad, and the government contract. I’m inclined to agree with him.”
“That doesn’t make sense. The Hammersmiths are the competition for the route. Mr. Berry confirmed that again while we were speaking earlier. He was careful not to say how we compared, but I had the impression that his surprise visit to their property a while back did not meet his expectations.”
No one said anything in response. They let her hear her own words, play them out in her mind, and waited for her to come to the obvious conclusion.
It came at her hard. Laurel set one hand against her stomach as it turned over. Acid burned in her throat and she swallowed it back.
“Water?” asked Hank. “You’re as pale as salt, Miss Laurel.”
“Get it for her,” said Call. “And give her some space. She can’t talk just yet.”
Hank raced off. When he got back, Laurel was sitting on a bench with her head lowered but not quite between her knees. Rooster was beside her, the flat of his hand at her back.
“She went down,” he told Dillon, taking the water glass. “Never seen her do that before. Call caught her just like he was prepared for it. Never seen a fella move so fast.” Rooster took Laurel’s hand and pressed the glass into it. “Drink.”
Laurel’s fingers curled around the glass and she sat up. “That was unexpected,” she said with a wry, sheepish grin. She took a few sips of water and then passed the glass back to Rooster. “It’s enough. I’m all right.”
