Free Lori Connelly by The Outlaw of Cedar Ridge Page B

While he caught his breath, she fetched water for Sugar. Evie patted the mare’s neck as she looked up at the clear blue sky and noted to her surprise that the afternoon was still young.
    “Are we ready to go?”
    “There’s one more thing to do.” Evie returned to Ben’s side. “Can you handle a bit of a walk?”
    “If I must.”
    “It’s important,” she snagged the rifle from the wagon seat then wrapped her free arm around his waist. Slowly they headed down the path to the creek. She took a deep breath. “Before here we lived in Whitefish, Montana.”
    Ben laughed, surprised her. “Do we have a thing for fish?”
    “The town names?” her lips curved into almost a smile. “When you saw Salmon, Idaho on a map, you said it was fate, we were meant to come here.”
    “Sounds like me.”
    “Yeah, anyway we lived there for about a year and a half, had a little place on the edge of town. At first you did odd jobs, I sold eggs, we did okay.”
    “Then what?”
    Shade darkened the path. Evie stumbled a few times until her vision adjusted. “We made friends.”
    “That’s good isn’t it?”
    “It can be.” Leaves tickled her skin. She used the rifle to move a branch out of their way. “Daniel Brown was charming, well liked and shared your passion for fishing. You grew close quick. You bought a saw mill with him.”
    “Was that wise?”
    “Seemed so at first,” They reached the creek. “Meanwhile as the business consumed a lot of your time, I became friends with a neighbor, Martha. She was my age, married and had a baby girl and a little boy. I loved her kids, really started to want one of my own.”
    “Was that a problem?”
    Evie pulled free and knelt, studied various rocks under the clear water flow. “Yes and no,” She handed him the rifle. “We never really talked about it before then, just assumed it’d happen one day. Meeting her changed that.”
    “You wondered why she’d had babies and you hadn’t?”
    “Yes.”
    Her fingers plunged in and drew out the prettiest stone she could find, blue and green swirled, polished smooth. She looked up. Ben leaned on the rifle as a makeshift cane. Evie grimaced as she got to her feet but didn’t object. She waved to a path to the left and onward they went.
    “What’s with the rock?”
    “We always take one up to the meadow.”
    “Why?”
    “Let me finish what I started, it all ties in.”
    “All right, please continue.”
    “Martha’s grandmother swore all I needed to do was drink goat’s milk but you were suspicious of her motives.”
    “Oh? Did I hate goats?”
    “No. Ester owned the only goats in Whitefish.”
    “So I thought the old lady just wanted to sell us milk?”
    “Yes but we decided it wouldn’t hurt to humor her. You got fresh milk for me every morning before you went to work.” Evie drew in a deep breath. “Then … ”
    “It didn’t work and the scam started a fight with our neighbors.”
    “Not the goat’s milk.”
    Ben stopped walking. “The saw mill?”
    “Daniel vanished one day along with all the mill’s funds.”
    “And that’s why we moved?”
    “Not immediately but you took the loss hard.”
    “Is that a polite way of saying I started drinking?”
    She started up the trail again.
    Sparrows followed hopping from branch to branch along the trees that lined the path. “If I was drowning all my sorrows how’d I get the bright idea to move?”
    “Because.” They walked out into a clearing set midway between the cabin and creek but higher. Sun bathed a swath of purple irises. “Ester was right.”
    “What?”
    Evie pointed across the sea of flowers. Nestled near the tree line was a small wooden cross surrounded a square mound of rocks. “The milk worked.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    Her gaze riveted on the grave, she ignored his question, walked over and sat down beside the cross.
    “What is this?”
    “This is,” Evie laid her rock on the mound, the last one she’d ever place while