Ambrose
AMbrOSE
"Arthur," I chided the boy as he began scaling the inside beams of the barn. "If you fall an' break somethin', you're gonna have to explain it to your daddy, you hear?"
"I'm okay," he proclaimed, far too young to understand that shouting aloud was a real quick way to make God take a peek and go, "Are you now?" and show you otherwise. The thought made me smile as I began to move the soiled bedding before I heard the scrape of his boots against the wood. A horrible feeling shot through me. I spun around to see first one foot and then one hand slide, and I shot forward.
To his credit, Arthur fought like hell to keep himself on that beam, but it was as determined as a bucking horse to throw him off. He slipped, and only then did he give a panicked shout as he realized his attempts had been in vain. I was under him in a flash, catching him before he hit the ground. I stumbled forward, tucking him against my body until I caught my footing so I could finally set him down.
"Alright?" I asked him, taking in his wide eyes and pale skin.
"Think so," he said, peering up at the beams. "They...that looks higher from down here."
"Probably because ya almost cracked that thick skull open down here," I said, rapping my knuckles on the top of his head and making him wince. "And now you get to tell your daddy how you almost hurt yourself and scared me half to death."
"Aww," he complained, scuffing his boot against the ground.
"No, no complainin', and no tryin' to get out of it either," I told him firmly. "You've done gave me enough scares for one day, and you're gonna go fess up to it, or I'll be the one doin' it. And I best hear that you told your daddy the full truth, you hear me?"
"Yes, sir," he said with a heavy sigh.
"Good, and if your daddy ain't too hard on ya, maybe I'll see if I can't snag you a piece of pie for later," I said, smirking when his downcast expression immediately brightened at the prospect of a sweet he wasn't normally allowed to get his grubby little hands on. Well, he wasn't supposed to, but just about everyone knew that Hipolita was as much a soft touch with him as she’d been with me when I was his age. Not that anyone was going to say anything because Hipolita would chase them out of the house and scold them for not minding their own business and sticking their busybody nose into hers.
I did love that woman.
"Now go on," I told him, giving his back a push. "I need to get my heart calmin' down before I keel over tryin' to shovel this mess up...unless you wanna do it, and I can go take a break."
His eyes widened. “No, sir!"
I chuckled as he sped off without so much as a glance back. He couldn't be too scared of his gentle and usually permissive father. More like he was scared of the guilt he’d feel when he had to tell his dad he'd nearly hurt himself badly or worse. Perhaps he just wanted to follow through on his promise to me because he wanted that piece of pie desperately.
Come to think of it, it was definitely the pie.
Still shaking my head in amusement, I bent over to grab the pitchfork and resume cleaning. I jerked at the sound of a distant bell, my brow furrowing as I knew instinctively it wasn't good, but the beat wasn't one I recognized. My father had set up a bell system throughout the ranch during the grim days of Le Garou, and most of it went unused. Nowadays, the beats were the daily call for meals, to wake the place up, and on occasion, to signal that someone had been hurt and needed attention.
It was similar to that beat, but it was only reserved for terrible injuries, possibly fatal ones. My heart sank as I wondered who could have been hurt so badly on the west side of the ranch, where I’d heard the beat start before others swiftly began ringing to the same beat. It was followed by someone shouting Rapture, and I knew then that it was that bell because someone was running to the nearby town to find the doc.
"Hell," I muttered, sticking the pitchfork in the clean hay and preparing for the worst. The doc was good. That much was true, but a serious injury meant big trouble. Even though a good many of us were able to do some medical treatment, it wasn't always enough to keep the injured going while we waited for the doc. Even if we did manage to make whoever it was last long enough, there was no guarantee the doc would still arrive in time. Some were just too far gone.
But at least it wasn't the mournful beat of someone who had died. I hated it when that beat was played.
I stepped out of the barn and heard the clamor rising from the West. Knowing it was my responsibility to deal with the mess, I took a deep breath and walked over to a horse kept on a post under the shade of the barn. I couldn't remember who had used it last, but they’d have to wait to get their horse back. I pulled myself into the saddle and shouted at everyone in my way to get moving.
It didn't take much more than that, and the groups separated to let me through. It was those same groups of people who told me what direction to head in. The horse gave a soft noise as he galloped to push us toward the source. I expected the worst, but when I grew close enough to hear my sister's furious shouting, alarm shot through me, and I forgot all about telling people to move and urged the horse forward even faster.
Elizabeth was standing in a crowd, pointing and barking orders. If the men thought anything about being ordered around by her, they didn't show it, as half a dozen of them were already moving, some away, and a couple were returning to follow her orders. Even as I swung out of the saddle, I couldn't make sense of her torn and bloodied clothes, and yet she seemed to have all the strength in the world in her body and voice.
It was then the people nearest me moved, and I could see the figure lying on the ground. He was sprawled on his stomach, face pressed into what I belatedly realized was the former skirt of my sister's dress, an ugly flower of crimson spread out from his upper torso and smearing down his back. Samuel wasn't moving; his eyes closed, and alternating ripples of terror, horror, and an ugly drop to my gut washed through me without ceasing.
"," my sister snapped, her voice full of command and steel, drawing me out of my confusing and overwhelming feelings and back into the present. "We need a doctor. I can only do so much for him with what we have here."
"He's in town," I said, stepping forward and dropping to set my hand atop Samuel's head and peering up to examine my sister. "You?"
"Untouched," she growled. "That educated fool was supposed to be visiting us at some point. He's three days past the day he swore he would be coming. If Daddy doesn't have his hide for this, I sure as hell will."
I peered up at my sister, and while I always thought she’d been a beautiful woman, her fury and focus added dimensions to her I’d never seen before. Although she stood shorter than most of us assembled, she was technically dressed in the remains of a dress, riding boots made for a lady, her face adorned with smeared makeup, and her hair flying in every direction. She reminded me more of our father than I had ever dreamed.
"What happened?" I asked her, staring down at him helplessly. I knew only the most basic medical treatments, and that did not cover... "God, he's been shot."
"I'll explain when I'm not busy," Elizabeth snapped, taking a bundle from one of the men who approached her. "Where in Hell is the water I asked for?"
"Here!" another one said.
"Walter?" she asked, twisting around.
I grimaced when I saw Walter approaching, forcing the men near him to part as he held tongs out before him. The tongs were clamped around a rod from the forge where the horseshoes and tools were made and repaired, the tip of it burning hot.
"Hold onto that," she said, swiftly bending down to kneel on the other side of Samuel. "Water and soap. Now!"
A bucket was dropped along with soap, which she quickly used to lather her hands up before dunking it one of the buckets. ", you too. All the way up to your elbows, you hear me? Use the other bucket, and then someone bring me a..." Another bucket was dropped beside her. “Thank you."
Someone had already brought a beaten leather bag which she snatched up in an instant and began rooting through it. All I could do was stare helplessly as she grabbed things from the bag. A helplessness I had never known in my life took hold of me, and I stared down at Samuel's unmoving body with a growing sense of horror.
How could this have happened? Things had been so quiet for so long, and I’d let my guard down. Had I essentially sent him to his death by putting him in charge of Elizabeth's safety? Because it was clear she was completely unharmed while he was fighting for his life.
"!" Elizabeth snapped, and I jerked my head up to look at her with wide eyes. "Wash your hands. Use the soap. Up to the elbows. Now!"
I may not have known what to do on my own, but I knew how to follow an order. I immediately did as she bid, using the water from one of the other buckets to soak my hands before soaping up with the soap that sat next to it and rinsing with the clean bucket.
Elizabeth hadn't wasted time waiting for me, hunching over Samuel and catching my gaze. “Now, he's out right now, but that's not guaranteed. You're going to need to hold him down just to be safe, hear me?"
"Right," I said, not understanding but reaching down to grip his arms. His left arm was slick with blood and made it hard to hold onto, but I felt an unpleasant drop in my gut when he didn't stir in the slightest. It was only yesterday that I’d grabbed him much like this, and he had been far more lively, twisting and pushing into my grip, laughing as he called me pushy.
"Keep hold," she said, and I saw she had a pair of tweezers in one hand, the other ripping his shirt to expose his bloodied back.
As soon as the metal dipped into the wound, I felt Samuel's arms tense. It was a relief and confirmation that my sister had been right to tell me to hold him. A groan rolled out of him when she dipped the tweezers into the wound.
"Hey," I said, bending so I could still hold him but look him in the face. "Samuel, it's . You need to hold still, okay? She needs to get that bullet out. I know it hurts."
"Go...to hell," he muttered through clenched teeth, his eyes still held shut.
I actually let out a laugh. “Christ, you're not nearly as dead as I thought you were."
"This isn't as deep as I thought it was," she muttered. "Someone go get me another clean bucket. I'm going to need to wash this out before we, well?—"
I watched as she drew the bullet out, twisting it around to examine it. It wasn't close enough for me to see if she’d got the whole thing, but she seemed content as she dropped the bullet into one of the buckets. Another bucket of water arrived, and she used it to wash away the blood around the wound. Her eyes met mine as she took the hot rod from Walter, and I tightened my grip now I knew he was awake. Delirious and confused, but definitely awake enough to fight like hell once the pain inevitably started.
"Fuck!" he snapped as his skin began to sizzle and hiss. "Fucking Hell!"
"I've got you," I assured him.
"Go to Hell!" he snarled back, his body trying to twist under me, forcing me to hold him tighter while trying not to add to his injury.
I knew exactly what he was going through. A particularly feisty goat had once taken his horns to me and gouged my thigh, and they'd taken hot metal to it so it wasn't exposed to the elements. I still remember how I’d screamed as the fire scorched the already sensitive wound and left me wondering if perhaps death might be preferable. From the way Samuel twisted and cursed, I imagined he was going through something very similar, and I just hoped all his suffering wasn't for nothing.
"Just about...there," Elizabeth said, her expression one of utter focus as the smell of burning flesh filled my nostrils. "And there he goes."
I glanced down, only then realizing it had gone silent, and Samuel was no longer pushing and shoving against my hold to try to get free. His face was slack, having passed out from the pain. That seemed fitting in a twisted way, as it had probably been the pain that had dragged him back to consciousness.
"Lord above," I muttered, leaning over to peer at the wound. It was ugly in its redness, and I was sure it was going to hurt something fierce for days. "What happened?"
"We can go over the events of the day once we're in the clear," she said, leaning over to root through the bag again. It was a small bottle she pulled out next, dumping the red liquid over the wound and then pouring honey into it as well.
"Iodine and honey?" I wondered, glad Samuel was out cold still. Having all that thrown into his wound after everything that had happened would have felt like we were torturing him.
"Better safe than sorry," she said with a sigh, finally pulling out some clean cloth. "At least until the doctor gets here."
"He's just arrived," Walter said from the group, his mouth a thin line of worry. "I guess he was already on the road when James found him."
"That's lucky," I muttered, eyeing Samuel's wound. "Which is nice because he ain't lookin' like luck's been on his side a whole lot today."
"The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh," Elizabeth muttered distractedly as she wrapped the wound. "We're going to have to get him up off this ground soon. Did the Doc say where he wanted to look at him?"
"No."
"Hmmm."
"Use my cabin," I said without thinking.
Elizabeth looked up, brow raised. "That will work for now. Now, you lot, go get me a cot, tie some boards under it, and bring it over so we can cart him off."
No one moved until Elizabeth pointed out four specific, random men and repeated the order, sending them off without the slightest hesitation on their part. Apparently, like me, they were useless unless a direct order was given to them.
"What happened?" I repeated as I waited for the men to return.
Her brow furrowed. “Might as well wait. You know Father is going to want an explanation as well."
A growl of frustration bubbled up in my chest, but I kept my mouth shut when I followed her gaze and saw our father was, in fact, making his way toward us. His eyes swept the assembled men, who began to fade away, probably pretending they were going back to work but, in reality, were going to lurk around to keep up to date on what was going on.
"Elizabeth," he said once he was close enough, looking down at Samuel without so much as a flicker of emotion on his face.
"Father," I grunted, annoyed at him for taking so long to show up when this was supposed to be his ranch. It wasn't like I hadn't seen his dispassionate approach when others had been hurt on the ranch, but this time, it really fed my temper.
He glanced at me before returning his attention to Elizabeth, who took a deep breath. “I've treated it as best I can. I've sent men to get something to carry him to where the Doc can look after him."
He nodded, giving a jerk of his head. "To the house, both of you."
"He's my responsibility," I ground out. "I should stay with him until?—"
"Until what?" he interrupted softly, looking at me with the same irritatingly calm stare that still felt like an examination no matter how many times I saw it.
I knew what he was aiming at, and it infuriated me further. There was nothing I could do for Samuel at this point, and everyone knew it. Elizabeth had already done more to help him than I could, and that left little for me to do other than fret while those with more knowledge and skill looked after him. Even knowing that I loathed the idea of leaving him with strangers at his most vulnerable. I knew damn well he would hate the idea and would accept even my meager presence if he had a choice.
I said nothing, however, gritting my teeth and putting my head down to follow my father. Elizabeth was at my side, and I glanced over to see how she was handling things. She had the same steely, focused expression as she walked, although the rest of her wasn't nearly as put together. Her hat was gone, and the braid she'd tied her hair up in had come loose and sent her hair everywhere. Her skirt was gone, pants torn, blouse dirty and bloody, with blood smeared over her hands and boots.
"Now that you're not busy, are you okay?" I asked her as we mounted the steps to the house.
"Physically, yes," she said, making to reach up to adjust her hair and then stopping when she saw the blood on her hands. "Lovely. I suppose I should get a bath as soon as possible before I start stinking more than I already do."
We entered the house, and I spotted Hipolita crossing the entryway and stopping short when she saw Elizabeth. “Why...Elizabeth, are you?—"
"I'm fine," Elizabeth said quickly but managed to flash her a smile. "I'm unhurt, thanks to Samuel. But if you could be so kind as to get me something to clean myself up with, that would be most appreciated, Hipolita."
"Of course," she said, looking at me and giving a questioning look before disappearing.
"What is all this noise?" I heard Joseph complain, and I turned to find him leaving the dining area, face set in his customary scowl as he stomped down the hallway. "I can hardly think over?—"
"My office," our father interrupted. "Now."
Joseph looked affronted at being interrupted until he looked at Elizabeth and frowned harder. “What happened to you?"
"Life," she said, smiling when Hipolita appeared with a wet towel and a new blouse. "Thank you, Hipolita. Give me a moment, Father."
The two disappeared, and I followed my father, not caring if Joseph followed or stayed there, standing in confusion and annoyance. We entered the office, and my father headed for the bottles stowed in the back, pulling out four glasses and pouring a hearty measure into each. He set two of them down on the edge of his desk, and I snatched one up without thinking and took a drink.
I welcomed the silence that followed as my brother gave a huff and moved to grab his glass, probably expecting me to hand him one. Instead, I stood near the wall, stared out the window behind my father's desk, and forced myself to be calm. The sight of Samuel wounded and so vulnerable had shaken me, and I needed to get control if I was going to be stuck in a room with my brother and father. Letting my emotions get the better of me wasn't going to help anyone, but I couldn't wipe away the memory of Samuel sprawled on the ground, covered in blood and barely able to move.
Two sharp knocks echoed in the room before Elizabeth walked in, still dressed in her dusty pants and boots but with a new, clean blouse on and her hair hastily tied up with a rawhide strip. For a woman who’d spent most of her adult life dressed up, she managed to pull off looking like she belonged with the rest of us quite well.
I reached out, and my father handed me a glass, which I delivered to her. She gave a grateful smile and downed two fingers' worth of liquor before handing it back. Our father promptly refilled it without a word, and this time, she just held onto the glass, apparently wanting to sip it rather than drink it down. Just enough to calm her nerves, but she clearly didn't want to cloud her mind.
"Explain," my father said after a few minutes, his eyes on her as he walked behind his desk.
Elizabeth took a deep breath and nodded, eyes shifting to look at the ceiling before slowly moving to the events of the day. She remained perfectly calm as she briefly explained that she’d led them into the desert and described the clues she’d noticed while they’d been talking. From there, she was able to explain what had happened, including a decent description of the men who had attacked them. After that, she told us how she had used her skirt to wrap up Samuel’s wound after managing to get him on the horse and ride him back to the ranch. I knew the rest of the story.
Unsurprisingly, our father listened and threw in an "Interesting" when she finished. I, however, felt a rush of emotions tear through me, leaving me to make sense of them. On the one hand, I was furious that those bastards had dared to come close to our property again, clearly not having learned their lesson the first time. On the other hand, I felt an overabundance of pride and affection for Samuel, who had used his brains and skills to make sure my sister had not come to harm or was taken by those animals. Yet I was also furious with him for being so stupid and getting himself hurt so badly as if he was the only one who cared.
Everything in me ground to a halt as I stood there, staring blankly out the window as I realized what I had just thought. Of course, I’d known I’d been growing more tolerant of him, and he’d been irritating me less and less...well, in any significant way. Being irritated by Samuel was like saying the sky was blue, just a fact of life. And yes, there was bound to be affection that grew, but...to realize there was genuine care there?
God, if there was genuine care and affection for him that I hadn't realized until now, what else could there be still hiding away?
I felt an elbow push into my side, and I blinked, looking around the room to find all three of them staring at me. There was absolutely no way I would figure out what had been said or asked, so I could only stare back before clearing my throat. "Sorry...was...doesn't matter."
There was a hint of a smile on Elizabeth's face. “We were wondering what might be waiting if there were three of those brutes lurking so close to the ranch."
Joseph scoffed. “You didn't hear them confirm who they were. For all we know, it was simply three men looking to cause trouble."
"Three men who happened to know who I was?" Elizabeth asked in disbelief. "Who mentioned bringing me back to their boss? That doesn't sound like three men who don't know what's going on."
"Fine, there might be more," he conceded, but it sounded like the act caused him extreme pain. "But that doesn't mean it's 's boogeymen."
"Your sister almost gets kidnapped, and who the hell knows what else, and all you wanna worry about is bein' right?" I asked him, knowing Joseph had always been a bastard, but this was something else entirely as far as I was concerned.
"Well, she wouldn't have been there if it hadn't been for your great idea," he said caustically. "Maybe instead of trying to give me hell because I'm trying to focus on the facts. Think about yourself instead since you seemed to think that she would be fine by herself."
"She wasn't by herself."
"Right, your pet outlaw was with her, wonderful."
Hearing Samuel referred to as a thing, a toy for me to enjoy myself with or use however I wanted, brought up the anger I’d been holding in. I stepped toward him. “That outlaw did more to keep our sister safe than you've done in your entire life, Joseph. Don't think I forgot about the time you were held up on the road back to Rapture, and no one wanted to admit that ya pissed yourself. Meanwhile, our sister, who ain't never been in any real danger in her life, kept her head and even managed to get a good lick in. So maybe you should keep your nose in business where it belongs and outta the real world."
Never in my life had I seen fury on my brother's face. Rubbing salt in an old wound was cruel on my part, but I was not going to have him speak badly about Elizabeth or Samuel when both had just gone through something serious. Hopefully, Samuel was recovering from doing everything in his power to keep her safe, and she had done the same for him. My brother's life might have been filled with books, numbers, and money, but that didn't mean he had to speak about things he knew nothing about.
"She should never have been out there in the first place," he snapped, fists curling at his side, and I wondered if this would finally be when he decided to swing at me.
"That ain't your call, and ain't never gonna be so long as I have somethin' to say about it."
"Well, you sure didn't consult Father on it. So, whose call was it?"
Elizabeth straightened. “Mine, Joseph. And if you're going to speak about me, have the courtesy not to treat me as if I'm not in the room."
Father shifted his stance. “Elizabeth."
"Yes?"
"How positive are you that these men are from Le Garou?"
"They didn't claim it outright, but the look on his face when Samuel brought them up certainly went a long way toward convincing me they are."
Joseph sneered. “We're going on her being convinced?"
"Joseph," my sister said in her sweetest, politest voice. "If you continue to denigrate my ability to think clearly in front of me, I might just be tempted to give you the same treatment I gave to the rat bastard who thought he could lay hands on me. Today is not the day to test my patience."
All three of us stared at her, and I was surprised and a little impressed. Joseph also looked surprised but outraged, and our father looked...thoughtful. Elizabeth had always had a bit of a wild streak and plenty of fire, but she had never turned that on anyone in the family. It seemed either her touch of relative freedom or a near-death brush was enough to bring it out and make her dangerous to anyone who pissed her off.
"In any case," Elizabeth said after the silence had stretched for long enough to become uncomfortable, "we'll need to keep Samuel close while he recovers. There's plenty of room in this house where he'll be?—"
"Absolutely not," Joseph hissed. "It's bad enough that has practically stopped treating him like the criminal he is, but we are not bringing him into the house. He can stay in his quarters."
"Shared quarters that aren't going to be as comfortable and clean as a room here?" Elizabeth scoffed.
"That man is lowlife, trash in a human shape, and just because he did one good…urk…" he managed that much before he found himself slammed against the wall, my forearm shoved against his throat and my face in his.
"That lowlife showed more courage and heart in one day than you have shown in your entire life," I snarled, not caring that his face was changing colors as I held him fiercely. "It's because of him that Elizabeth is not only alive but unharmed and here . It's because of him that we know there's more of those bastards out there. You don't like him? Fine, go back to your books and leave the real business to people who can handle it instead of pissin' and moanin' and tryin' to act like nothing's wrong and that your shit don't stink."
"Get…" he began, but I pressed on his throat.
"No, you've said enough. You've been sayin' enough as far as anyone's concerned for a long time," I told him in a low voice. "And I'm done listenin', hear me? What you're gonna do is shut your mouth and keep it that way, or I'll shut it for you. Shut your damned mouth, Joseph. I don't want one more word out of you."
For the first time in our lives, I saw real fear in Joseph's eyes, fear of me no less. I let him struggle for a moment before I stepped back, knowing not to push it too far. I didn't want to hurt him seriously, but I needed him to realize I was sick and tired of listening to him and that his time to speak was long since over. There were other things to worry about without him throwing his awful comments and bad attitude into the mix.
"He's already being taken to my cabin," I said after turning around. "He can stay there. It's private, it's clean, and I can keep an eye on him bein' that he's my responsibility."
"How...noble," Joseph hissed from behind me. "Finally decided to grow up and?—"
My brother must have thought I’d been simply talking only seconds ago. He immediately realized how serious I was when my fist slammed into his face and sent him crashing to the ground with a hard thump. I saw no point in following through with another blow since the first had him dazed.
"I warned you," I told him, pointing down at him before turning back to my father. "Samuel will stay in my room. And once he's recovered, he and the other two should have the chance to have cabins of their own like some of our men do. They've been doing damn fine work, and they haven't caused any real trouble. We've been working them like men, not criminals, and they've been acting the part, so we're gonna treat them like men, not criminals."
Our father, who hadn't moved except to sit down in his chair, swirled the contents of his glass around while watching me. "And if they take advantage?"
"Then they get thrown back into their locked-up cabins and get treated like criminals again. If they screw up more, we send them back and let the Sheriff sort them out," I said, done with fretting constantly over what we were going to do with these men. "If we keep treatin' them like criminals who can be worked, we might as well just call ourselves slave owners and move on."
"If you treat them like this, any others we take in would need the same treatment."
"And? These three have adjusted well, and maybe we've even given 'em a chance to make somethin' of themselves. Maybe we can do the same for others if they prove they're willing to give it a chance. Otherwise, we throw them back to wherever they come from and let the law deal with 'em as we see fit."
"That simple?"
"No, but this ain't the time to be dealin' with finer points of plannin'. I knew Le Garou were here and causin' trouble, and now we have even more evidence. We need to deal with these animals we know are a threat to our ranch and our family, and then we can figure out what we're going to do about everything else."
I expected my father to shoot me down and casually tear apart everything I’d said, but I didn't care. Samuel was still fighting for his life, and he had got that way out of sacrifice for someone in our family. If being here could provide him with a new path in his life, then it meant there was a chance other people could follow the same path.
"Le Garou," my father muttered, a shadow casting over his face. "There's a name I was hoping would have died out since the last time you said it. Seems there's no getting away from the past, no matter how much you want to."
"I...guess not," I said, taken aback by his lack of criticism.
"Rapture's going to need to know," he continued. "And we're going to need to get the men who’ll be fightin' on high alert. We need to make sure we don't get taken by surprise."
"No one leaves the ranch without at least three others with them, and always armed," I said, glancing at my sister. "Which means no more adventures."
"Thank you for clarifying that for me," she said and I could hear her rolling her eyes even though her face never changed. "But since we're apparently laying down demands like they're the law, I will be learning how to shoot."
Our father watched her for a moment, a single eyebrow rising ever so slightly. "Is this where I'm meant to pretend you haven't had Walter teaching you in secret for years?"
Elizabeth blinked, but that was the only indication that she was surprised at his knowledge. "Walter isn't the best shot. He's a patient teacher and enjoys it, but not the best. I need better. Actually, I need best."
I knew what was going to happen next, and my father's eyes slid over to me. He didn't have to change his expression significantly, and we both knew it. One of the lesser-known facts around the ranch was that we had yet to find someone who was as good a shot as I was. I wasn’t ashamed of that fact. I was quite proud of it, actually. I just didn't like to brag about my accomplishments, especially when shooting was basically a killer's skill, and despite having taken a few lives in self-defense, I didn't see much point in bragging about my ability to kill.
"I'll do what I can," I said with a sigh, ignoring the curious look Elizabeth shot me because she hadn't known how good a shot I was.
"Then, with that settled, I’ll get to work assembling the men and sending a message to Rapture," our father said, draining his drink and standing up. "Since we've been alerted, they might try to go for the town itself or even one of the other ranches. , go deal with the men and make sure they're not getting skittish on us."
"But—"
"Samuel will be in whatever state he’s in whether you're there or not. After you've made sure we don't have a panic on our hands, you can go make sure your charge is fine. Otherwise, do your duty."
"Yes, sir."
"Good, Elizabeth?"
"Yes?"
"You seem intent on doing more than staying in this house."
"Definitely."
"Then ask Hipolita to help scrounge up clothes that will be better for working on the ranch and see if she can't do some alterations to them. Last I checked, she's the deftest hand with needlework that we have."
"There's the other man that came with Samuel weeks ago," I pointed out.
"His expertise lays elsewhere, and you were smart to put him to work like you did. Careful hands like that are wasted on hard labor," he said, setting his glass aside. "But Hipolita is the one who has the most practice with women's clothing. But we should have him size her up for boots. Those riding boots of hers are for a lady, not a worker."
"I'll tell him," Elizabeth said, and I figured she was leaping savagely on the chance to exert some control and autonomy, "after I get properly cleaned up and check on my children."
Joseph stirred. “And me?"
Our father looked at him for a moment. “You are where you need to be. This sort of thing isn't for you. What I will need is for you to prepare the ranch financially. If Le Garou really is in the area like we damn well know, then we need to be prepared. We're going to take hits to our trade routes soon if they aren't cleaned up, and we're going to need to order weapons, bullets and more medical equipment. Talk to the Doc once he's done with Samuel. I'm sure he has all the right connections for us to buy good, well-priced medical supplies."
It was ironic that my brother, who prided himself on his mental acuity and business acumen, was suddenly irritated by being reduced to a bookkeeper and merchant while the ranch was on high alert. Perhaps Samuel was rubbing off on me, but I couldn't help feeling smug at the sight of his frustration and helplessness. The man had spent his entire adult life doing whatever he could to insult and belittle not only me but what I did, and now those were being given importance over anything he’d done.
"That's all," our father said with a dismissive wave. The first to move was Joseph, who glowered fiercely at me as he stomped out. The intimidation factor was ruined by the blossoming bruise on his face and the fact that he hadn't put up the slightest fight. Elizabeth and I followed him, though his angry strides took him far ahead in seconds.
"Where's Bear?" she asked, looking around.
"He was off exploring when the bells went up, and I haven't seen him," I said with a shrug. "If he's not waiting on the porch for me, then I’d place good money that he's with Samuel or near the door waiting for him."
Elizabeth chuckled at that. “He's quite taken with Samuel, isn't he?"
"Bear? Yeah, I guess so. It was a little strange at first since he's normally around me."
"Well, they say dogs know things about people that we don't, and we should trust their judgment. Seems there might be something to that after all."
"I...yeah, I guess there might be. But... are you okay? Don't give me that look," I added hastily at her scowl. "You've never been through something like that before, and it can...it can be a lot."
She narrowed her eyes. “Would you ask one of the men that? Or is it just because I'm a woman that you feel the need to ask?"
"I ask because you're my sister, and I care about you," I said, and as she continued to stare at me, I winced. "This is where Samuel would laugh and say, at least I was trying."
At that, her annoyance flickered and faded. “I'm glad you stood up for him. He did everything he could to make sure both of us got back and...I don't know if he'll remember doing it or even own up to it, but I saw?—"
"Saw what?"
"When he heard the man who shot at us yell, he put himself between me and him. Maybe he didn't know what was coming, but he had to know it wasn't going to be good, and he still put himself there. He wasn't just saving his own skin like Joseph made it sound. He was saving mine too."
Something caught in my throat that I couldn't swallow, and I nodded. Once, I would have been surprised that he was capable of such a selfless and virtuous act. Now though, I had spent too much time around the man to believe he was the inhuman pain in the ass I’d thought in the beginning. He was still a pain in the ass, and I was going to remind him of that when he woke up and could get around safely, but I wasn't the least surprised he’d done what he could to save Elizabeth.
"Look," she began, reaching out to lay a hand on my arm and squeeze it. "He's...he's a good man."
"I know that."
"I know you do, but I'm telling you that you're not the only one who knows. The men here trust him too. Maybe you could remind him of that when he wakes up and can think straight. And maybe it would be good if he stuck around here for longer than whatever sentence you're giving him. He's also...well, he's good for you, okay? I'm happy."
"Huh?"
She looked over my features for a moment and then shook her head with a chuckle. “Sometimes it's frustrating that you seem to believe everyone is as dense as you. But then again, he thinks he's too clever to be figured out easily. But I would bet I'm not the only one who sees it. Who knows."
My stomach twisted. “Knows what ?"
"About a certain young drifter who came into Rapture all those years ago and caught your attention in a way no one else had before," she said with a small smile, her voice gentle. "Or about the way you and a certain rapscallion have a difficult time keeping your attention off one another. Even when you're supposedly busy and think no one's watching. You'd be surprised."
"I..." the twisting in my gut froze, and I could only stare at her in shock and horror. "Lizzie."
She stood on the tips of her toes and kissed my cheek. “Stop being what you think others want you to be, . Be who you are because, just in case you really are that dense, there are plenty of people around here who like the person you are. And if you ask me, Samuel is one of those people. Just as importantly, he makes you happy, so be happy ."
Elizabeth gave my arm another squeeze before turning and walking away, her stride no longer purposeful or heavy. I turned to find the door to the office still open and my father standing in the doorway, watching us with an impassive expression. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, I thought he was going to say something. Instead, he just tilted his head before turning and walking back into the office, closing the door behind him.
I had no idea what had just happened, or when my sister had figured me out, or rather, Samuel and me out, but now I had to deal with other parts of my life getting turned upside down, not just Samuel being seriously hurt. Me realizing there was a lot more to my feelings than I'd originally thought.
But there were other things I had to contend with before I could deal with any of that, and I quickly shook my head, cleared my thoughts, and made my way outside. The sooner I finished what was necessary, the sooner I could get back to Samuel and keep an eye on him.