His Blood Ran Cold

Todd Graves had a feeling someone knew his secret when he saw Mary’s shawl on his porch swing one night.

He had buried her in it.

His first thought was that he didn’t bury her deep enough, and an animal had dug it up.

But the shawl was clean.

No dirt.

No blood.

Just Mary’s perfume.

The grave wasn’t far from the little wooden cabin.

But it was far enough that no one should ever find her.

Waiting until midnight, when he was certain there was no one watching, Todd grabbed his lantern, saddled his horse, and took off into the night.

The little clearing was untouched.

There were no footprints.

No disturbed earth.

Mary was exactly where he’d left her.

Or at least she should be.

Glancing one last time at the untouched patch of earth, he shook his head.

His hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

He couldn’t go home.

Todd needed a drink.

The saloon was just as busy as usual, but something was different.

The moment Todd stepped inside, the voices stopped.

It felt like everyone was looking at him.

Did they know?

“Usual?” Hobart Bell, the bartender, asked.

He seemed normal.

Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him.

Todd nodded.

“Any sign of Mary yet?” Hobart asked, sliding the glass across the bar.

Todd swallowed hard.

He shook his head and took a long drink, hoping the whiskey would hide how guilty he looked.

“Secrets have a way of coming out.” A voice interrupted.

Todd froze.

Mary’s brother, William Bristol, lowered himself onto the barstool beside him.

Did Willy know?

“Now listen here, Todd. No woman walks away from that kind of fortune.”

Todd stayed quiet.

William leaned closer.

“You truly lookin’ for my sister, or are you wastin’ your days sittin’ in this saloon with a bottle in your hand.

William scoffed. “That’s what I thought.”

He finished his whiskey, set the glass down a little harder than he meant to, then pushed it toward Todd before walking out without another word.

Todd stayed until the saloon shut down.

Eventually, he had no choice but to go home.

He knew another bottle of whiskey was waiting for him there.

The wooden cabin seemed quieter than usual.

He led his horse into the barn, settled her into the stall, and latched the gate behind him.

Stepping inside the dark house, Todd immediately made his way to the kitchen, where the bottle of whiskey was sitting on top of the fridge.

He didn’t need a glass.

Raising the bottle to his lips, he didn’t stop until he needed air.

By the time he lowered it, there wasn’t a drop left.

Something clinked against the glass.

Todd grabbed his lantern and held it up to the empty bottle.

His blood ran cold.

At the bottom rested Mary’s wedding ring.

Like the shawl, he knew for certain he’d buried her with.

Shaking, Todd dropped the bottle, and it shattered on the ground.

Spinning like a carousel, wobbling in widening circles until it finally came to rest at his boots.

Todd couldn’t take his eyes off it.

With William’s words echoing in his head, he picked the ring up off the floor, put it in his pocket, and rode to William's house.

By the time Todd made it to Williams' house, the sun was starting to rise, but it was still dark out.

A dark thought crossed his mind.

Was William next?

That thought was quickly swept away when he arrived at Williams' house.

For in the window, staring out at him, was not only William.

Mary was there too.

And so was the sheriff.