Chapter 4 #3
Mac waved them off, but watched until he couldn’t see them anymore.
“Why did you lie?” Luke queried when the men disappeared. He looked up at Mac with a concerned expression. “We aren’t supposed to lie.”
Mac considered the question. “The only way I know to explain is that you just have to trust the grown-ups in your life, Luke. Sometimes a lie can be necessary when safety is at risk. I agree, most of the time you always try to tell the truth, even when it hurts.”
“So exactly how is this different?”
Mac hunkered down to face the boy. “As you may have noticed, there is only one of me and two of them, which is why I asked you to bring another gun out. Even a young boy like you learns how to shoot early on.”
“Darn right,” Luke echoed fiercely. “I know how to shoot.”
Mac chuckled. “As a grown-up used to facing off with other men, I got a nervous feeling about those two. I felt like it would be unsafe to let them inside and see only a woman and a child there. If they were inclined to steal or cause a problem, it would be a lot easier for them to make that decision knowing who was in there. Two sick men are still a threat because they are men, and those yahoos wouldn’t know how sick they really were. You understand?”
Luke nodded. “And you think they asked about your wife just to find out if there was a woman?”
Mac had to give him credit; the boy was smart as a whip. His father must have taught him always to be protective of the female folk. His actions had already proved that once today. “You are right on the money, Luke,” he replied with a smile.
“And technically, you didn’t lie about that. There really is no missus here,” Luke added with a broad grin.
“Right again. Now, come on, let’s get inside and talk to Whitney. I think we need to be on the alert for a while until we know those men have left the area.”
Mac didn’t tell Luke that he didn’t trust those men one inch. The sly looks in their eyes as they shot furtive glances at the cabin told him there was something else on their mind. What it was, he didn’t know, but his instincts were on alert.
As they stepped into the cabin, he saw Whitney standing by the fireplace with her rifle at the ready.
“Are they gone?” she asked.
“Can I come out now?” came the plaintive voice of Amelia from somewhere above them.
Mac nodded, closing the door behind him and putting the bar down across it for good measure. “For now,” he added, looking up. “Where have you stashed Amelia?”
“In the attic,” Whitney replied, her eyes twinkling. She grabbed a kitchen chair and dragged it over to the hallway entrance, then stood on it.
Reaching up, Mac watched her lift a board he would never have known hid an attic entrance if she hadn’t shown him. She pushed it to the side, and Amelia’s little legs dangled over the edge. “Let me help you,” he volunteered, striding over to take Amelia from her hands.
“Are the bad men gone?” Amelia asked, brushing away a cobweb from the side of her face.
“They are gone, angel.” He caught Whitney’s gaze over her head. “We need to talk about the next few days.”
Whitney’s eyes narrowed. “Okay, what about the next few days?”
“I don’t think you should stay here alone; they might come back,” he said after he let Amelia go. “I think you and the kids need to come home with me.”
Whitney shook her head as he helped her off the chair. “That’s not happening, Mac. Beulah has to be milked twice a day, Abraham has to be fed, the chickens have to be fed, and a host of other chores. I can’t leave.”
“I’m not leaving you here alone,” he replied tersely. “If you won’t come, then I’ll have to stay.”
“What about your place?”
“I have hands at my place who can fill in for me. My mother knows where I am and that I might be delayed, so she’ll cover. But I can’t stay here forever, Whitney.” He ran his hands through his dark hair.
She proudly drew herself up, her eyes spitting sparks. “I didn’t ask you to. Go on home, we can take care of ourselves. I’ll go back to dressing as a man in case anyone comes around. It’s worked so far and we’ll be careful.”
Mac eyed her, looking for the right words with two sets of eager ears listening.
Was further explanation needed to help her “process” the situation?
Repeating himself as if she were a young child learning a new word didn’t come easily to him.
Drag up the drawbridge and batten down the hatches was more his style when danger was threatening. He tried again.
“Look, Whitney, I don’t trust those men to leave the area as quickly as I’d like. I can’t leave you and the kids in possible danger—it goes against my instincts,” he insisted.
Her eyes narrowed. “I know what to do, I’m not stupid. I didn’t come out with the shotgun because I knew what was at stake. I got the same feelings about those men that you are having.”
“Then you understand I can’t leave you alone.”
“And you understand that I can’t leave,” she pointed out as if he were the one being stubborn.
This processing thing wasn’t working. Mac debated with himself.
He would never get her out of here by force, and it would just upset the kids if he tried.
He could have one of his men sleep in the barn and watch the place, but to get word home, he’d have to leave.
That wasn’t happening with the possibility of those other men lurking around for a while.
They might still be looking for an opportunity to check the place out for themselves.
He wasn’t worried about his ranch regarding them, but Whitney’s place was ripe for the picking with a woman and two kids alone.
Besides, he didn’t want another man watching over his girl.
There were no female chaperones here, and it wouldn’t be proper.
Finally, he made up his mind. “Then I’ll stay here for a few days. Just until I’m sure the danger is past,” he growled. “I’ll sleep in the barn.” He didn’t trust himself to sleep in the house; Whitney was too close. She needed to be safe from him, too.
Whitney nodded warily and then stepped towards the stove. “Okay, so who’s ready for leftovers?”