He's right. We run now. We'll be running forever, and I'd rather die fighting than live as prey. Hopefully, it won't come to that. Jake said, "How many men does Morrison typically send? four, sometimes six," Margaret answered, apparently accepting that the decision had been made.
"Hardmen, killers. " Jake nodded. "I've got rifles in the house, ammunition. Tomorrow we'll see how well you can shoot. " "I told you we can handle guns," Rose said. "Shooting targets is different from shooting men," Jake warned. "We know," Catherine said softly.
"We've we've had to defend ourselves before. " The admission hung in the air between them. Jake wondered how many close calls they'd had, how many times they'd been cornered and had to fight their way free. No wonder they moved like hunted animals. Get some rest, he said finally. Real rest.
I'll keep watch tonight. You don't have to, Margaret began. Yes, I do. You're under my protection now. All of you.
He met each of their eyes in turn. That means something out here. Rose was the first to move, touching her sister's arms and guiding them back toward the house. As they walked away, Jake heard her murmur something that might have been, "I told you he was different. " Margaret lingered, still holding the Remington. "Mr.
Sullivan, Jake, what you're doing? It's noble, but nobility gets men killed out here. So does cowardice," Jake replied. Go on. Your sisters need you rested, not dead on your feet.
She studied him for a long moment, then surprised him by saying, "You lost someone to men like Morrison. I can see it in your eyes. " Jake's throat tightened. Not to men like him, to indifference to a world that didn't care if poor folks lived or died. But yes, I lost everything. And now you're risking what you've rebuilt for three strangers.
Maybe that's exactly why I need to risk it. Jake said. "Maybe hiding away here hasn't honored their memory the way I thought it would. " Margaret nodded slowly, understanding passing between them. "Thank you," she said simply, then followed her sisters to the house. Jake settled back onto his crate, rifle across his knees, and prepared for a long night.
The moon continued its journey across the sky. And somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled. He thought about the sisters, about the fear they'd been living with, about the man who hunted them. Morrison. Jake turned the name over in his mind like a stone.
He'd known such men before, in the war and after. Men who took what they wanted and crushed anyone who stood in their way. But Jake had learned something in his years of solitude. Every man, no matter how powerful, had weaknesses, and every empire, no matter how vast, could fall. The night wind whispered secrets through the sage.
And Jake Sullivan kept his vigil. Guardian now to more than just memories and regrets. When dawn came, things would change. The quiet life he'd built would shatter like glass. But looking toward the house where three brave, broken women finally slept in safety.