Martha nodded, understanding that some stories took time to tell.

Thank you for staying, Lucas.

I know I said I could handle things alone, but it’s easier with someone here, less lonely.

I know what you mean.

3 weeks after Lucas had collapsed at the creek, Tom Whitman came by for his regular visit.

He was a lean, weathered man in his 50s with a gray beard and eyes that missed nothing.

He took one look at Lucas and his hand moved instinctively toward the gun at his hip.

“Easy, Tom,” Martha said quickly.

“This is Lucas Hail.

He got shot up by rustlers and I’ve been helping him recover.

” “Lucas, this is Tom Wittman.

He works at the Circle B Ranch and helps me out when he can.

” Tom’s hand moved away from his gun, but his expression remained wary.

“Ma’am, I don’t mean to speak out of turn, but taking in a strange gunman, he’s not a gunman.

He’s a ranged detective and he’s staying on to help secure the property.

Martha’s tone was firm.

I trust him, Tom.

That should be enough.

Tom looked between them, clearly wanting to argue.

Finally, he nodded slowly.

If you say so, Mrs.

Quinn, folks in town are already talking.

Jenny Wu mentioned she’d heard rumors about a stranger at your place.

Let them talk, Martha said with a shrug.

They talked after Samuel and Robert died, too.

said, “I should sell out and move back east.

I didn’t listen then, and I won’t listen now.

” Lucas watched this exchange with interest.

Tom Whitman clearly cared about Martha.

There was protective concern in every line of his body, but there was also respect.

“He might not like the situation, but he wouldn’t push Martha on it.

” “Fair enough,” Tom said.

He turned to Lucas.

“You know how to mend fence? I’ve done my share.

” “Good.

There’s a section down by the eastern boundary that needs work.

Trees came down in that storm last week.

If you’re staying, you can help me fix it.

It was a test, Lucas realized.

Tom wanted to see if he was really here to work or just taking advantage of Martha’s kindness.

He stood, ignoring the protest from his shoulder.

Lead the way.

They spent the next 4 hours in hard, hot work.

The fallen trees had taken down 30 yards of fence, and the post needed to be reset before they could string new wire.

Tom worked with the efficiency of long practice, and Lucas did his best to match him despite his lingering weakness.

They didn’t talk much at first.

Tom would point at what needed doing, and Lucas would do it.

But gradually, as they worked, the older man began to open up.

“Known Martha since she first came to the territory,” Tom said as they dug post holes.

Robert Quinn hired on at the Circle B for a season before he filed his claim.

“Good kid, full of dreams.

Samuel was steady.

You could count on him.

When they got killed, I thought Martha would break.

Thought she’d run.

She didn’t.

No, she didn’t.

Stubborn as they come, that woman.

She stood at their graves and swore she’d make this place work.

Make it what they dreamed of.

And by thunder, she’s been trying ever since.

Tom paused in his work, leaning on his shovel.

But trying doesn’t mean succeeding.

This land is hard, and the people who want it are harder.

She needs help.

That’s why I’m here.

Tom studied him with those sharp eyes.

You planning to stay or just until the next job comes along.

It was a fair question.

Lucas thought about all the times he’d made similar promises.

To stay, to help, to see things through, and how many times he’d broken those promises when restlessness or opportunity called him elsewhere.

I’m staying, he said finally.

However long it takes.

Good.

Tom went back to digging.

Because when Edgar Row comes back, and he will come back, Martha’s going to need someone who can handle a gun.

I’m too old for that kind of fight, and the Circle B can’t afford to get involved in range disputes.

But you, you look like a man who’s been in his share of trouble, more than my share.

Then I hope you’re as good as you look, because Ro doesn’t play fair, and he doesn’t quit.

He wants this land for the copper underneath it, and men like him don’t let much stand in their way.

They finished the fence work as the sun was setting.

Tom showed Lucas the boundary markers and pointed out the weak sections that would need attention soon.

As they walked back toward the house, Tom stopped and turned to face him.

One more thing, Hail Martha’s been hurt enough.

She’s lost everyone she cared about to this land.

If you’re planning on leaving, if you’re not serious about staying, then go now.

Before she starts counting on you, before it hurts when you disappear.

Lucas met the older man’s eyes.

I gave her my word, Tom.

I don’t break my word.

See that you don’t.

Tom touched his hatbrim.

I’ll be back next week.

You take care of her until then.

After Tom left, Lucas found Martha in the garden pulling weeds by lamplight.

She looked up when he approached, brushing dirt from her hands.

Tom give you a hard time? Nothing I didn’t deserve.

He cares about you.

He was Robert’s friend first.

After they died, Tom kept coming around helping out.

Never asked for anything.

Never made me feel like I was a burden.

Good people are rare out here, Lucas.

When you find them, you hold on tight.

Lucas knelt beside her and started pulling weeds.

His shoulder protested, but he ignored it.

He’s worried about Ro said he expects trouble soon.

Tom’s usually right about these things.

Martha sat back on her heels, looking out at the darkening mountains.

I’ve been thinking about it, too.

It’s been 3 weeks since Ro made his offer.

In my experience, men like him don’t wait much longer before making their next move.

What do you think he’ll try? Something that can’t be traced back to him directly.

More fences cut, maybe, or a fire in the barn.

Something to make me nervous.

Make me reconsider his offer.

Her jaw set.

But I won’t reconsider.

This is my home and I’m not giving it up.

Lucas was about to respond when he heard it.

The sound of hoof beatats approaching fast.

Multiple horses moving with purpose.

He stood quickly, his hand going instinctively to his hip, but his gun belt was hanging in the house.

Martha heard it, too.

She was already moving, heading for the house at a run.

Lucas followed, and they burst through the door together.

Martha grabbed her shotgun from above the mantle while Lucas strapped on his gun belt, checking the cylinder of his Colt revolver with practiced ease.

“How many?” Martha asked, her voice steady.

Lucas moved to the window and peered out carefully.

In the gathering dusk, he could make out four riders approaching the house.

They weren’t moving at a gallop anymore, just walking their horses in, taking their time, confident.

Four men could be more hanging back.

He recognized the tactic.

show enough force to intimidate, but not so much that it looked like an attack.

Stay inside.

Let me handle this.

This is my property, and you hired me to protect it.

Lucas caught her eye.

Trust me, Martha, please.

After a moment, she nodded.

I’ll cover you from the window.

If shooting starts, get down fast.

Lucas stepped out onto the porch, his hand resting casually near his gun.

The four riders stopped about 20 ft away, just beyond easy pistol range, but close enough to talk.

Three of them were typical ranch hands, hard-looking men with trail dust on their clothes, and the easy posture of men who’d spent their lives in the saddle.

But the fourth man was different.

He wore a proper suit despite the heat, and his horse was a fine bay gilding that probably cost more than most men earned in a year.

His face was smooth and unweathered with sharp features and cold blue eyes that assessed Lucas like a banker evaluating collateral.

“Good evening,” the man said, his voice cultured and pleasant.

“I’m looking for Mrs.

Martha Quinn.

I understand this is her property.

” “It is.

State your business.

My name is Edgar Row.

I represent the Southwestern Development Corporation.

I’ve had some correspondence with Mrs.

Quinn regarding the purchase of this land.

I was hoping to speak with her this evening.

Mrs.

Quinn doesn’t receive visitors after dark, Lucas said evenly.

You want to talk business.

Come back during daylight hours.

Rose smile never wavered, but something cold flickered in his eyes.

And you are someone who doesn’t appreciate uninvited guests showing up at night with armed men.

These are simply my associates.

This territory can be dangerous, as I’m sure you’re aware.

A man would be foolish to travel alone.

Ro leaned forward in his saddle.

I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.

Are you Mrs.

Quinn’s new hired hand? I’m someone who’s going to ask you one more time to state your business and move along.

The three ranch hands shifted in their saddles, hands moving toward their guns.

Lucas didn’t move, didn’t tense, just stood there with his hand near his colt and his eyes on row.

He’d been in situations like this before, moments balanced on a knife’s edge, where the wrong word or move would send everything spinning into violence.

Ro held up a hand, and his men relaxed slightly.

No need for unpleasantness.

I simply wanted to check on Mrs.

Quinn’s well-being and see if she’d reconsidered my offer.

The proposition I made was quite generous.

She hasn’t reconsidered.

You seem very certain of that.

Have you been here long, mister? long enough to know that Mrs.

Quinn has no interest in selling her land.

Not to you, not to anyone.

Circumstances change, Rose said mildly.

A woman alone on a frontier homestead faces many challenges.

Perhaps with some time to reflect, she’ll see the wisdom in accepting our offer and starting fresh somewhere safer.

There it was, the veiled threat wrapped in concern.

Lucas had heard variations of it a hundred times before.

He stepped forward to the edge of the porch, and though he kept his voice level, he let steel show through.

Let me make something clear, Mr.

Row.

Mrs.

Quinn isn’t alone anymore, and any challenges that come her way from here on out are going to have to go through me first.

So, if you’re planning on making her life difficult, if you’re thinking about using pressure or intimidation to force a sale, you should know that I’m very good at my job, and my job is protecting this property and the woman who owns it.

Rose’s smile finally faded.

Is that a threat? It’s a promise.

Now I’ve asked you twice to move along.

There won’t be a third time.

For a long moment, nobody moved.

The four riders sat their horses, and Lucas stood on the porch, and the desert evening held its breath.

One of the ranch hands, a scarred man with a face like old leather, let his hand drift toward his gun, and Lucas shifted his weight almost imperceptibly, ready.

Then Ro laughed, a cold, calculated sound without any real humor in it.

I see Mrs.

Quinn has found herself a watchdog.

How quaint.

He gathered his reigns.

Very well, we’ll take our leave.

But do give her a message for me, would you? Tell her that the Southwestern Development Corporation always gets what it wants, one way or another.

Tell her that my offer won’t stand forever.

And tell her he paused, his eyes hard as flint.

Tell her that accidents happen out here.

Terrible, tragic accidents.

It would be a shame if something were to befall such a lovely property.

I’ll make sure she gets the message, Lucas said.

Now get off her land.

Ro turned his horse and his men followed suit.

But before they left, the scarred ranchand looked back at Lucas and smiled.

A mean, anticipating smile that said, “This wasn’t over.

Not by a long shot.

” They rode off into the dusk and Lucas stood on the porch until the sound of hoof beatats faded completely.

Only then did he let out the breath he’d been holding and allow his hand to relax away from his gun.

Martha emerged from the house, the shotgun still in her hands.

That was Edgar Row.

I figured he’s exactly what I expected.

Smooth on the surface, rotten underneath.

He threatened us.

Threatened my property.

Yes, he did.

Lucas turned to face her.

and he’ll make good on those threats soon.

Men like Ro don’t bluff.

They probe for weakness, and when they find it, they push hard.

Martha’s face was pale but determined.

What do we do? First, we prepare.

Check all the buildings for fire hazards.

Make sure the well hasn’t been tampered with.

Set up a watch schedule.

One of us awake at all times, especially at night.

Second, we gather evidence.

Every threat, every incident, we document it.

Write it down.

date it, save any physical evidence.

If we can build a strong enough case, we might be able to get the territorial authorities involved.

The law didn’t help when Samuel and Robert were killed.

I know, but we try anyway.

And third, Lucas hesitated, then continued.

Third, we prepare for the worst.

If Ro comes with enough men, if this turns into an all-out assault, we need a plan.

Somewhere you can go, somewhere safe.

I’m not running, Martha.

I’m I said I’m not running.

Her eyes flashed.

We stand and fight together.

That was the agreement.

Lucas wanted to argue.

Wanted to tell her that bravery and stubbornness weren’t the same thing.

That there was no shame in tactical retreat.

But looking at her face at the fierce determination there, he knew words wouldn’t change her mind.

Martha Quinn had chosen her ground, and she would defend it or die trying.

All right, he said quietly.

Together.

They spent the next hour checking the property, looking for signs of sabotage.

Everything seemed secure, but Lucas knew that could change in an instant.

Rose’s men could return tonight, tomorrow, next week.

The waiting was part of the intimidation, keeping them on edge, wearing them down.

That night, they established a watch schedule.

Lucas took first watch, sitting on the porch with his rifle across his knees and his colt within easy reach.

The night was alive with sound, coyotes yipping in the distance, the rustle of wind through cottonwood leaves, the occasional hoot of an owl.

Every sound made him tense made his hand move toward his gun.

Around midnight, Martha brought him coffee and sat beside him.

She changed into a wool shawl against the desert cold, and in the lamplight, Lucas could see the weariness in her face.

“You should be sleeping,” he said.

“Couldn’t too much thinking.

” She sipped her own coffee.

“Lucas, what you did tonight standing up to row like that, you made an enemy.

A powerful, dangerous enemy.

You know that, right? I know you could still leave, take one of the horses, ride out before dawn.

I wouldn’t blame you.

I’d even pay you for your time here.

Lucas was quiet for a moment, watching the stars wheel overhead.

You remember when you asked me why I became a range detective? Why I chose this kind of life? You said it was what you knew how to do.

That’s part of it, but there’s more.

He set down his coffee cup.

During the war, I was at Shiloh.

Second day of fighting.

My unit got cut off from the main force, surrounded.

We fought for hours and one by one the men around me fell.

By the end it was just me and a kid named Danny Morrison.

Couldn’t have been more than 17.

We were out of ammunition, out of options.

I figured we were dead men.

Martha listened, not interrupting.

Then this sergeant from another company came charging through the Confederate line, rallied about 20 men, and fought his way to us.

Got us out.

Took a bullet in the leg doing it, but he got us out.

Lucas’s voice was quiet.

Afterwards, I asked him why.

Why risk his life for two strangers? You know what he said? What he said? Because I could.

Because I had the skills and the opportunity.

And that means I had the responsibility.

That stuck with me.

All these years later, I still think about it.

I’ve got skills, Martha.

I’m good with a gun, good at reading people, good at this kind of work.

That means I’ve got a responsibility to use those skills for something that matters.

And you think this matters.

I know it does.

You’re building something here, something honest and real.

You’re not hurting anyone, not taking what isn’t yours.

You’re just trying to make a life on land you claimed legally.

If men like Rogue can destroy that with threats and violence, if good people can’t count on someone standing with them, then what’s the point of any of it? He met her eyes.

So, no, I’m not leaving.

I made you a promise, and I’m keeping it.

Enemy or no enemy.

Martha was quiet for a long time.

Then, slowly she reached over and took his hand.

Her fingers were rough with calluses, but warm and strong.

“Thank you,” she said simply, “for everything.

” They sat like that for a while, hand in hand under the desert stars.

And Lucas felt something shift inside him.

Something that had been restless and searching for years finally settling into place.

He didn’t have a name for it yet, didn’t want to examine it too closely, but it felt like coming home.

The next morning, Jenny Woo arrived with her monthly supply wagon.

She was a slight Chinese woman in her 40s who ran a general store in town and made regular deliveries to the outline homesteads.

She took one look at Lucas and raised an eyebrow.

So, the rumors are true.

Martha Quinn has taken in a gunfighter.

Range detective.

Lucas corrected mildly.

Same thing in this territory.

But Jenny was smiling as she said it.

She began unloading supplies, flour, sugar, coffee, ammunition, lamp oil.

The whole town’s talking about it.

Some say you’re Martha’s new husband.

Some say you’re a hired killer.

Mrs.

Henderson at the boarding house swears you’re an outlaw on the run.

Martha rolled her eyes.

And what do you think, Jenny? I think you needed help and you found some.

The rest is nobody’s business.

Jenny’s expression grew more serious.

But you should know.

Edgar Row was in my store yesterday.

He was asking questions.

Wanted to know about you, Martha.

Whether you had family elsewhere, whether you were struggling financially.

I didn’t tell him anything, but others might not be so careful.

Let him ask,” Martha said.

“I’ve got nothing to hide.

” “Maybe not, but Rose also been buying supplies.

A lot of supplies.

Camping gear, preserved foods, extra weapons.

Like he’s outfitting men for an extended stay somewhere.

” Jenny glanced toward the mountains.

There are rumors he’s set up a mining camp in the foothills about 10 mi north of here.

Brought in miners and equipment.

If he’s serious about working copper claims, he’s going to want to expand his holdings.

Lucas absorbed this information.

A mining camp meant Ro had resources, men, equipment, money.

It meant he was committed to the area long-term, and it meant his interest in Martha’s land wasn’t just about one homestead.

He was building an empire.

And Martha’s 200 acres sat right in the middle of his plans.

“How many men?” Lucas asked.

“20, maybe 30.

Hard to say.

They keep to themselves mostly, but I’ve seen some of them in town.

rough types, the kind who hire out their guns as often as their labor.

Jenny finished unloading and checked her list.

Continue reading….
« Prev Next »