But Norah had already thought of that. She raised the shotgun and fired, not at the men, but straight up, the blast echoing across the valley like thunder, loud enough to wake every ranch within 5 mi. Then she fired again and again, methodically spacing her shots to signal distress in the pattern every rancher knew. "You crazy!" One of the rustlers shouted.
"You just brought every armed man in the county down on us." That's the idea, Norah called back. Then to Silas, how long until Tom arrives? 10 minutes if he's already mounted. Longer if the nearest rustler raised his pistol.
Silas saw it happen in slow motion. The arm coming up, the barrel catching moonlight, the moment before the shot that would kill his wife, his partner, the woman who'd saved him in ways that had nothing to do with bullets. He didn't freeze. Silas raised his rifle and fired in one smooth motion. The hours of practice his father had insisted on years ago, flowing through muscle memory.
The bullet took the rustler in the shoulder, spinning him sideways, his shot going wide and harmless into the dirt. "Next one center mass!" Silas shouted, working the bolt action and sighting on the next nearest man. "I don't miss twice." The rustlers hesitated.
This wasn't supposed to happen. The small man was supposed to freeze or run. The woman was supposed to be helpless. But here they were, armed and coordinated and clearly not paralyzed by fear. Another rustler raised his gun, aiming at Silas this time.
But Norah was faster. She'd reloaded the shotgun and fired the blast close enough to the man that he dove for cover behind a tree, shouting curses. "We can keep this up all night," Norah called out. "Can you? Because those shots are going to bring half the valley here.
And then you'll have to explain why you're on our property with guns drawn. In the distance, Silas heard what he'd been praying for. Horses, multiple riders coming fast. Tom in his hands, probably maybe Frank, too. Help was coming.
The rustlers heard it, too. They looked at each other. Rapid calculations happening. Two people with guns was manageable. Two people plus a dozen angry ranchers with suicide.
This ain't over. One of them shouted. We'll be back. We'll be ready," Silas replied, his voice steadier than he felt. They retreated into the treeine, taking their wounded man with them, disappearing into the darkness like smoke.