An address in New Orleans followed. There was no signature, no name at all on the letter. Her mouth dry, Faith read through it again. A date from approximately seven weeks prior sat at the top. It was just about the time Beau had arrived in Last Chance.
“Faith? What is it? Is the letter to you?” Josie laid a hand on Faith’s arm, her blue eyes watching her friend in alarm.
“It’s . . . It’s nothing. I’ll deliver this one personally.” She forced her words to sound smooth and unworried, despite the fear that curled up from within.
Josie watched her for a moment. Finally, she said, “I’m happy to deliver these envelopes to the sheriff on my way back to the ranch.”
Faith nodded. “Thank you. I know he’ll appreciate the kindness.”
As Josie took up Sheriff Darcy’s correspondence, she glanced at Faith again. “Are you certain all is well?”
“Yes,” Faith lied. She needed time to think through this letter. To figure out what it meant. “Thank you for helping me.”
Josie smiled. “Thank you for taking my mind off that despicable pastor of ours. Wouldn’t it be lovely if another preacher arrived in town and started a new church? I’d be his first member.”
“You’d have to get there before every other woman in town,” Faith said, a slight grin teasing the corner of her mouth despite the worrisome note.
“Psh. I’m faster than all of them combined.” Josie tucked the sheriff’s envelopes under her arm. “I’ll see you soon.”
After Faith let Josie out, she shut the door and leaned heavily against it. She didn’t have long before the townsfolk began wandering in for their mail. Only a few minutes, perhaps, to attempt to understand what was in that letter.
Beau’s mother was in danger.
The man who’d taken her wanted Beau in exchange. Not his money, it appeared, but him personally.
It was dated almost two months ago, yet Mrs. Landry had written far more recently than that to Beau and had said nothing of it. Had she been told to deliberately exclude that information? Or was she not being held captive any longer?
And the strangest line of all—You know your crime. Did they believe Beau had been the one who cheated at cards? That wasn’t a crime, at least not one Faith knew of. And why would they wanthim? Wouldn’t they prefer the money they’d lost to him?
None of this made a lick of sense. Faith could only pray that Mrs. Landry was unhurt and this letter meant nothing at all.
And that the sneaking suspicion she held that she was missing parts of the truth was entirely unfounded.
