I know, Silus. Go. The sooner you leave, the sooner you'll be back. He nodded, turned his horse toward the trail that led out of the valley. But before he rode away, he looked back at her one more time.
I love you. The words hung in the cold morning air, simple and raw and true. Mara's throat closed. In all the weeks they'd been together, through the wedding and the threats and the fire, neither of them had said it, as if speaking it out loud would make them too vulnerable, give fate too much ammunition. But now, with him about to ride into danger, the words came anyway.
"I love you, too," she whispered. "Come home to me." Silas touched the brim of his hat. Then he was gone, canering up the trail and over the ridge, leaving Mara alone with seven frightened children and the acrid smell of smoke. She watched until he disappeared completely. Then she turned back to the cabin, squared her shoulders, and went to face the day ahead.
Marcus Miller arrived an hour later, a lanky young man of 19 with his father's honest face and his mother's kind eyes. He carried a rifle that looked older than he was and rode a sturdy sorrel mayor that had seen better days. "Mrs. Hawthorne," he said, tipping his hat as he dismounted. "Paw sent me to help out while Mr.
Silas is gone." "Thank you, Marcus. We're grateful for it." "No trouble at all, ma'am. Where do you need me?" Mara gestured toward the smoking ruins. Can you help clear that away? I don't want the children seeing it any more than necessary.
Yes, ma'am. I'll get right on it. He set to work with quiet efficiency. And Mara went inside to deal with seven pairs of eyes that had been watching her through the window. Is P Silas coming back?
Thomas asked, his voice small and scared. Of course he is, sweetheart. He just went to town to talk to the sheriff. About the bad men who burned our chickens? Yes.
Will the sheriff catch them? Mara knelt down, gathered Thomas and Abigail into her arms. I hope so, baby. I really hope so. But hope, she was learning, was a luxury they couldn't always afford.
The day crawled by intense silence. Mara kept the children busy with chores, mending clothes, churning butter, grinding corn for meal, anything to keep their hands occupied and their minds off the fear that had settled over the cabin like a shroud. Marcus worked outside clearing debris and keeping watch. Every hour or so, he'd stick his head in to report that all was quiet, that he'd seen nothing suspicious, that they were safe. But Mara couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched.
By late afternoon, her nerves were so taut she jumped at every sound. When a branch cracked in the woods beyond the clearing, she grabbed the rifle and ran to the window, her heart hammering. Nothing. Just trees swaying in the wind. Ma.
Jonah appeared at her elbow, his face pale. You okay? Fine. I'm fine. She forced herself to set the rifle down to unclench her hands.
Just jumpy. Me too. He hesitated. Ma, what if they come back tonight? Then Marcus and I will deal with it.