Why not? Because Silas Crow doesn't fight like an ordinary outlaw. I looked at him. Jeb understood men like Silas as well as I did. He's waiting for us to make a mistake.
Nia drew a slow breath. Then we won't give him one. I spread an old map of the property across the table. It was little more than a rough sketch I had drawn years ago, but it showed the stable, corral, water tank, and dead trees surrounding the cabin. Jeb pointed to the stable.
Here, he tapped the paper with one finger. If they try to circle behind us, they'll have to pass through this side. He took two sticks of dynamite from the pack. I'll place these between the support beams. And if they set the stable on fire, Jeb smiled.
Then it becomes their problem. Nia studied the terrain with intense concentration. She took a piece of charcoal from the cold stove and drew several dark lines across the map. They'll use these rocks, too. She indicated at a small rise north of the cabin.
From here, they'll have cover and a clear line of fire into the windows. I stared at her again. Once more, she had noticed something I had completely overlooked. How can you be sure? Nia raised her eyes.
My father taught me that a hunter always searches for the same hiding place he would choose for himself. Jeb gave a quiet laugh. I'm beginning to understand why they've spent so long trying to catch you. Nia offered no reply. She simply lowered her eyes and continued studying the ground.
For the next half hour, none of us wasted a second. Jeb slipped among the trees several times, using every pause in the gunfire to plant dynamite around the stable. I braced the front door with two heavy oak beams I had been saving for years to repair the barn. Nia inspected every window in the cabin. She shifted furniture.
She carved narrow firing gaps between the wall planks to widen our field of view. She prepared secondary positions in case smoke or flames forced us to abandon one of the rooms. She did not behave like someone waiting for two men to protect her. She moved like someone who had spent her entire life learning how to survive. When Jeb returned covered in dust, he rested his shotgun against the wall.
It's ready. He glanced towards the horizon. If they try coming through the stable, they won't get far. The sun was sinking slowly behind the hills. The day's heat gave way to a cooler wind that stirred the flames still smoldering along one side of the roof.
For the first time since the madness began, the three of us managed to sit around the table for a few minutes. There was no coffee, no whiskey, only a plate of cold beans, some hard bread, and water. We ate without speaking. Then Nia broke the silence. I still don't understand why you're doing all of this for me.
Jeb looked up. Then his eyes moved toward me. He knew the question was meant mostly for Wade Coulter. I slowly placed my spoon on the table. 5 years ago, I would have kept writing.