Silas checked his second revolver, set it on the table within easy reach. I'm not sleeping anyway. Mara wanted to argue. wanted to tell him he couldn't stay awake forever, that he'd collapse from exhaustion. But she saw the steel in his eyes and knew better. So instead, she made coffee, strong and bitter, and she sat with him through the long, tense hours until dawn, watching the valley for shadows that didn't belong.
The sun rose on ruins and resolve. And somewhere in the distance, Thomas Avery was learning that some families refused to break. No matter how hard you pushed, the charred remains of the chicken coupe still smoldered when Silas saddled his horse at first light. Mara stood on the porch, watching him work, her arms wrapped around herself against the cold morning air. The children were still inside, huddled together in the loft, too frightened to come down. [clears throat] Even Jonah had retreated after keeping watch with Silas through the darkest hours, his young face gray with exhaustion and fear.
"How long will you be gone?" Mara asked as Silas checked the saddle cinch one final time. Two days, maybe three. Depends on how fast I can get the law moving. He straightened, met her eyes. I don't want to leave you.
I know, but you have to. John Miller is sending his oldest boy over. Marcus, he'll stay until I get back. Help keep watch. Silas, we'll be fine.
No. His voice was firm. You won't be alone. Not after last night. I won't risk it.
Mara wanted to argue that she could handle herself, that she'd survived worse, that she didn't need protecting. But the smoking ruins behind them told a different story. Thomas Avery had moved beyond threats and intimidation. He'd committed arson, and arson was just the beginning of what desperate, angry men would do. "Be careful," she said instead, stepping off the porch to stand beside him.
Thomas knows you're going to town. He might try something. Let him try. Silas's hand moved to the revolver at his hip, a gesture so automatic he probably didn't even realize he was doing it. I'd welcome the excuse.
Don't say that. Why not? It's true. Mara grabbed his arm, forced him to look at her. Because I can't lose you.
Do you understand? I can't I can't do this alone again. I can't bury another husband. So, you be smart and you be careful and you come back to me. Something in Silas's expression cracked.
He pulled her against him, held her so tight she could barely breathe. I'll come back. I swear it. You'd better. Her voice was muffled against his coat.
Because if you die on me, Silas Hawthorne, I will find a way to bring you back just so I can kill you myself. She felt him laugh, a brief rumble in his chest. Yes, ma'am. They stood like that for another moment, holding each other while the sun climbed higher and the valley woke around them. Then Silas pulled back, kissed her forehead, and swung up into the saddle.
Keep the rifle loaded. Keep the children inside. And if anything, anything at all feels wrong, you fire three shots. The millers will hear it and come running. I know, Mara.