"That's the quickest I've ever seen a bail hearing get scheduled."

Ruby and I have just returned from the courthouse. Walt stayed at the station but Ruby called him as soon as we got the news that Barlow was staying locked up until his trial. His response to the news? "Good."

"It's Barlow Connally; With his history of generous campaign contributions he's got some pull with elected officials."

"Not too much at least. I'm still a little surprised bail was denied altogether. Judge Winburn must have thought if Barlow was willing to shoot his son with a shotgun at close range, he'd be more than willing to do a little something like jumping bail without giving it a second thought."

"I wouldn't put anything past Barlow Connally. I've known that man for a lot of years and I don't trust him as far as I can throw him. Still, I never thought he would do something like this, and to Martha of all people. She was the best there was. Too bad you didn't get the chance to meet her, Vic. I think you two would have liked each other. She would have been happy to have someone like you on Walt's side out there."

I'm not so sure Ruby is right about that with the thoughts I've had rolling around in my head about her husband. Still, maybe if Martha were still around, it would have helped keep my thoughts and feelings toward Walt in check. Actually I'm sure it would have. Either way it's a moot point. She's no longer here and he is and that creates it's own little set of landmines to tiptoe around, especially now.

The last 48 hours have been kind of a blur. The official arrests of both Barlow and Jacob Nighthorse created a lot of work. Then there were the attorneys to deal with. In spite of the two suspects working together before they were in jail, they're definitely not working together now that they are in jail. In fact, it's looking like Nighthorse is wanting to cut some kind of a deal in exchange for his full cooperation with the investigation and the DA is probably going to do it. He would get some jail time, but nothing like Barlow would get. The legwork Walt and Cady did connecting Miller Beck and David Ridges will be pivotal in the case against Barlow. Still, there have been other things to do, other evidence to gather and review. Walt, Ferg and I have been working almost nonstop, sleeping in small spurts at the station and skipping meals altogether. That's probably why my stomach had just growled loud enough for Ruby to hear it from across the room. I avoid her glance and the conversation that's sure to follow by walking into Walt's office and closing the door.

I haven't had a chance to talk to Walt alone since we returned from Cumberland County two days ago. It's all I can do to keep my thoughts and questions to myself as I quietly sit on the couch. I'm dying to know what was said between he and Barlow, but I know Walt won't tell me until he's good and ready. Apparently he's not yet. He can tolerate silence much longer than I and we both know it. I sneak a look at him for about the hundredth time since leaving Sheriff Wilkin's office, trying to gauge how he is doing. He's leaning back in his chair with his hands clasped together and his head bowed. I can't see his eyes and wonder if he's fallen asleep.

Henry had returned to the Red Pony without comment after getting back to Durant that day. I both despise and envy Henry's ability to do that. He's comfortable leaving things unsaid, something I never am. He has stopped into the station a few times since then, talked to Walt behind closed doors for a few moments, and then left again without a word to anyone else. I don't know what they have been discussing. Maybe it's just Henry talking. Or maybe he's just listening, waiting for Walt to say something of significance, anything at all to express what's going on inside right now. My guess is Walt's not sharing with anybody, Cheyenne or otherwise.

I settle into the cushions and close my own eyes while I wait, though I'm not really sure what I'm waiting for. The only time Walt has left work the last two days was when he went over to Cady's to tell her the news about Barlow. He was gone for about two hours and I had hoped he would go home and get some rest after that but he didn't, he came right back. Well, as long as he's here, so am I. He hasn't asked me to stay but it's been understood, communicated through his eyes whenever he's looked at me. I'm not too interested in going home right now anyway. Until Shaun's move is finalized and his shit is out of the house, I am not really comfortable being there, even when he's not. Shaun has continued to be polite and cooperative. He's not taking much with him as far as household items go. It's not really practical to move a bunch of furniture that far I guess. With the raise I am sure goes along with his latest transfer he can afford new stuff anyway. He had texted and said he would be back in Durant this morning. He was going to finalize the transfer paperwork and then be over to the house sometime later today to pack up his clothes and a few other things. I don't really feel the need to see him. We said pretty much everything that needed to be said before he left. Now we just have to wait until the divorce is final and we can both move on with our lives.

I'm not sure how long I've been on the couch before I hear footsteps and Walt's deep voice directly above me.

"Vic."

It's softer than usual which I hadn't thought was possible. I keep my eyes closed another minute willing him to say it again.

"Vic"

It's a little louder this time but not by much. I gently sigh and open my eyes to look up at him. He's wearing his jacket and has his hat in his hand. He smiles softly and reaches a hand down to me, "Come on."

I can't keep the quizzical look off my face but allow him to take my hand and help me to stand before he lets go. He puts his hat on and heads toward the private entrance to his office. I try to not ask. I want to just follow without question but I can't help myself, "Where are we going?"

He stops and takes a beat before turning back to me keeping his face toward the floor before lifting it to mine, "I want you to meet Martha."

I glance around the room unsure how to proceed. I can tell the by the rapidly vanishing light outside that the sun has recently set. I've never really been a fan of cemeteries at night but i guess if that's where he wants to take me I'll go. I grab my own jacket and head out the door after him.

"You can follow me in your truck."

"Okay."

Walt pulls onto the road and I stay close behind wondering what brought all this on. It's not that I don't want to spend time with him one-on-one, it's just that this wasn't what I had in mind. I become even more puzzled when I realize we are headed to his cabin. Has Martha been buried out here this whole time and I never realized it? I park my truck next to his and get out. He's standing at the back of the vehicles waiting for me and we walk to his cabin together. He leads me into the house, gesturing for me to have a seat. I take off my jacket and comply as he walks into the kitchen, "You want a beer?"

"Sure."

He returns with two beers in one hand and a wooden box in the other. He sets everything on the coffee table and heads over to the book shelf. He pulls out a large photo album and sits down next to me as I take a drink of my beer.

"Martha and I met in high school but we didn't start dating until the end of her senior year. We dated for two years and married after my graduation from USC. Cady came along about three years later." He opens the album across both of our laps and slowly turns the pages pointing out certain photos and recalling stories they trigger in his mind. We talk and laugh together as Walt shares his life with Martha. We finish several beers before we're done looking though the photos. Then he sets the album on the table, picks up the wooden box and clears his throat, "This is, uh, this is the box where I've kept Martha's ashes since she passed."

I bite my lower lip and stare at the box as Walt slowly rubs his fingers in a circle on the top of it. I'm not sure what to say so I don't say anything. Walt has brought me to Martha's grave. It's here. His home hasn't ever stopped being hers. The weight of his loss hits me harder than it ever has before and I fully comprehend how tightly Walt is still holding on. No wonder he felt like he was cheating with Lizzie. I don't want him to feel that way with me. I need to back off. My first instinct about keeping my divorce to myself was the right one. How could I have been so stupid to talk to him about it?

"Up until last week that is."

I hesitate, "What do you mean up until last week?"

"Cady's been after me to find a resting place for her mother's ashes but I couldn't bring myself to do it until last week. It was after the charges against Henry were dropped. I took Martha out to a special place and finally set her free. That's where I was when you couldn't find me at my cabin that day. It's why I wasn't at Henry's party."

I know the act of scattering his wife's ashes holds a greater significance for Walt than I could ever imagine.

"I realized I was keeping her prisoner here, trying to hold onto her life and what we had. As result I had locked myself up, and Cady too. It wasn't fair of me...so I let her go. She never would have wanted what I had created around her: the sadness, pain, anger and regret. And it certainly wasn't her job to keep me in line any longer or to watch me turn into the man I had become. She deserves better than that."

I reach out and cover Walt's hand with my own, "It had to have been difficult to let her go after all this time."

He slowly nods, "Yep."

We sit for a while without saying anything: Walt's hand on the box, my hand covering his.

"Thank you for introducing me to Martha, Walt."

He sets the box back on the table, "I hope you don't think it's too weird. I just figured if we're going to move forward, it would be good for you to know where I've been." He relaxes against the back of the couch and rubs his hands on the tops of his thighs.

"Move forward?"

He looks over at me, "Only if you want to."

I can't keep from smiling. Maybe I don't need to back off after all, "I'd like that."

He smiles and nods his head, "Okay then."