The lonely years were over. Tomorrow, They'd fight not just for survival, but for the future they were only just beginning to imagine together. The news spread through the territory like wildfire. Harrison Morrison had put a bounty of $500 on each sister's head, dead or alive. By noon, Jake counted three separate groups of bounty hunters passing by the ranch, circling like vultures, but not yet brave enough to attack.
They're waiting, Margaret observed from her position at the window. Waiting for Morrison to arrive with the main force. Let them wait, Jake said, checking his ammunition for the dozenth time. Judge Watson should be back soon with whoever he could muster. But as the sun climbed higher, no help appeared from town.
Doc Harmon, sleeves rolled up as he helped prepare medical supplies, shook his head grimly. Fear is a powerful thing. Morrison's had this territory under his thumb for years. Rose paced like a caged cat, energy crackling around her. We should strike first.
Take the fight to them before they're ready. That's suicide, Margaret said sharply. We hold defensive positions. Make them come to us. While they surround us completely, Rose challenged.
We'll be trapped rats. Enough. Jake intervened. We stick to the plan. This ranch is defensible and we know the ground.
Catherine, who'd been silent most of the morning, suddenly spoke up. Someone's coming. Just one rider. They rushed to positions, but the approaching figure raised a white cloth. As he came closer, Jake recognized him.
Samuel Rivers, who owned the neighboring ranch to the east. He'd kept to himself since Jake moved here. Never friendly, but never hostile either. Sullivan, Rivers called out, stopping well clear of the fence. Got a message from Morrison.
He wants to talk. Just talk. Since when does Morrison talk instead of take? Jake called back. Since he realized half the territory is watching this play out, Rivers replied.
He's offering terms. The women come peacefully. He'll let you live. You've got 1 hour to decide. Here's my answer now, Rose shouted.
But Jake put a hand on her arm. Tell Morrison if he wants to talk. He can come here himself alone. Otherwise, there's nothing to discuss. Rivers shrugged.
Your funeral. He wheeled his horse and galloped away. "You're not actually considering talking to him? " Margaret demanded. "No, but it bought us time. And it tells us something.