Chapter Twenty-Eight
Hope stroked her hand down the length of Sweetpea’s nose before kissing him on his forehead.
“I’m so glad you’re back safely,” she told the horse.
Daniel and Jackson had patched the side of the barn as best they could, and Ethan was bringing over some of his horse feed until the order from the general store could arrive.
Though most of Victor’s damage had been cleared up quickly, the effects still lingered.
The tension on the ranch had increased, and Hope felt it in her clipped tone with Daniel, or when she burned the oatmeal because she was too distracted by her own thoughts.
Hope shuddered, the very thought of strange men sneaking into the barn and touching the tools and horses made her feel cold all over. She said goodbye to Sweetpea and walked out into the sunlight.
The blur of riders in the distance made her start with panic, and she glanced back at the house.
She could see Margaret safely inside, stirring something in the kitchen.
Jackson had ordered that Hope was to call him and immediately go inside if anyone approached.
All the guns had been inspected and loaded, and even if she didn’t know how to shoot one, Margaret certainly did.
“Jackson!” Hope called, backing away towards the house.
He appeared in an instant, an axe in hand as he rushed towards her, a scowl on his face.
Despite the moments of warmth and intimacy they found, the family was living in constant fear, and the effects were visible on their faces.
Each night dragged on for hours, and Hope found herself jumping at the slightest sound.
Finally, around four in the morning, they’d all meet in the kitchen for strong coffee, the lines on their faces proof that no one had slept.
“Riders,” Hope said as she pointed, a tremble visible in her fingers.
Jackson stepped protectively towards her, and even Margaret came out onto the porch to see what they were looking at. The tension was tangible, and Hope wondered how much longer they could go on without sleep.
As the shadow drew closer, they realized it was a wagon rather than individual riders.
“It’s Ethan,” Jackson said, the relief evident in his voice.
Hope smiled briefly at him, feeling exhaustion wash over her as her stress faded. His expression mimicked her own.
Ethan waved as they approached. “I come bearing gifts!”
Hope and Jackson frowned at each other. Despite the awkwardness that had initially existed between them, the desperate situation in the valley had reminded them how valuable true friends like Ethan were. But it seemed neither of them were sure what he meant by that.
“Clara!” Hope said, hurrying over to the wagon as she realized Ethan’s sister was in it. “I can’t tell you how I’ve been longing to see you again!”
Clara gave her a tired smile, and Hope knew that they were getting as little sleep as the Hales were over on the Blake ranch.
“I need a favor, old friend,” Ethan said, grinning at Jackson.
Hope watched as Ethan helped an elderly man and woman climb down from the wagon, along with Clara.
“William and Rose,” Margaret said warmly, bustling forward. “So good to see you.”
Hope hurried forward to introduce herself to Ethan’s parents, and noted the bags he unloaded at their feet. Even Hope could tell that this was yet another spur-of-the-moment Ethan decision that would impact them all.
“Ethan…” Jackson said, tugging his friend aside and muttering in a low voice.
“Come on in and have some coffee,” Margaret suggested to their guests, slipping her arm through Rose’s. “I’m sure the journey wore you out, my dear Rose.”
Hope was watching Jackson and Ethan speak, trying to read Jackson’s body language, when Clara joined her.
“Ethan had the great idea of moving us all here,” she explained. “He thinks Jackson’s ranch has a stronger position and will hold out longer than ours.”
“Clara,” Hope said, leading her inside. “Is it that bad over on your side? What’s happened?”
Clara’s pale face fell, and she averted her eyes. “We woke up to an attack on our ranch. Half our herd of cattle were missing. Some were chased into a gulley…” She stopped, pressing her fingers to her lips as her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Hope, we’ve known hardship, but this…”
Hope held Clara, hugging her gently as the young woman cried. That explained why their own ranch had been spared the night before; Victor’s men had been occupied with targeting Ethan.
“My brother feels that if we’re here, he can fight off Victor’s men without worrying about our safety,” Clara continued. “I do hope we won’t make life difficult for you, Hope. I know you’ve got your own troubles here.”
Hope smiled at her. “I rather think having you here might cheer us all up. Do you know how to shoot?”
Clara’s eyes widened, and then she chimed with laughter. “Oh, I knew seeing you would cheer me up.”
Hope hadn’t been teasing. She’d thought that if Clara knew how to shoot, then the women had a fighting chance if the men were all occupied.
In the kitchen, Margaret had laid out a spread across the table, including salted pork, soda bread, boiled eggs, and something sweet still baking in the oven.
It was another memory Hope would hold close.
They were all together, new friends and old, warm and safe and enjoying the simple pleasures of life.
Ethan and Jackson entered, and Hope fixed her gaze on Jackson’s face. His mouth and eyes were set, like he’d reached a decision and nothing would shake him from it.
“What’s going on?” Hope asked, her voice cutting through the chatter around the table.
“Ethan and I are going to confront Victor,” Jackson announced.
“If the law won’t help us, we’ll take it into our own hands,” Ethan said, his expression determined.
Margaret and Hope shared a look, and she read the same worry there that she felt herself.
“What about the others?” Hope asked. “Old Simon, Andrew, John-”
“There’s not enough time to gather them all,” Ethan said. “We must act before Victor hears we’re coming.”
Jackson edged closer to Hope. “We’ll stop at Old Simon and Andrew’s on the way to town. I’m sure they’ll join us in our cause.”
“But you’re still so few,” Hope protested, feeling panic grip her heart. “You need time to gather more people.”
“Ethan thinks if we confront Victor now we’ll be able to end this without things getting worse,” Jackson reasoned.
Hope glanced around the room. Everyone was watching them, so she led Jackson out of the kitchen to continue this discussion.
“It’s too soon,” Hope said, folding her arms across her chest tightly.
She watched Jackson shake his head. “I don’t want to lose anything else, especially not you. This at least gives us a chance.”
“Jackson, I know if you take the time to speak to all the ranchers in the valley, those men will follow you. Why not wait and outnumber Victor?” Hope suggested.
Jackson scratched his head and shifted his weight. She knew he felt the same, but she was beginning to see he’d decided he would dutifully stand by Ethan.
“We’re just going to talk to Victor and see if he can be reasoned with,” Jackson said.
Hope shook her head. “It’s too dangerous, and you know it.”
“Hope, I can’t stand another night of lying there just waiting to be attacked!” Jackson said loudly. “Living in fear is no life.”
“I know that,” Hope said, feeling a rush of emotion. She looked up at him and saw the frustration in his eyes that mirrored her own. “But I can’t bear the thought of something happening to you.”
“You said you trusted me to protect you,” Jackson pleaded. “You can’t stop me now, Hope.”
“Let me come with-”
“Not a chance,” he refused. “Hope, I’ll be home in a few hours.”
Ethan walked into the front entryway with Clara following him.
“Promise me, Jackson,” Hope begged as she followed them out onto the porch. “Promise me you’ll come home.”
“I promise, Hope,” Jackson said, forcing a smile that she knew wasn’t real. She could see the fear in his eyes. None of this felt right, but she had no way of stopping them.
Clara stood next to her, clinging to Hope’s arm as they watched Ethan and Jackson walk over to their horses, their guns slung over their shoulders.
“I don’t like this, Clara,” Hope said as she breathed deeply, fighting off tears.
Jackson and Ethan rode away, and when Jackson turned to wave, she felt her resolve crumble completely.
“Oh, Hope,” Clara said, allowing her to cry on her shoulder. “Don’t be sad. Jackson’s the bravest man I know. He has to do this. He’s faced down worse before.”
“But Clara,” Hope sniffed, “what if something happens to him? I couldn’t, Clara, I just couldn’t…” She didn’t know how to complete the sentence without voicing her true feelings to Clara. It didn’t seem fair to tell her, not when she’d never even admitted them to Jackson.
“Did I ever tell you the story of when Jackson fought off a whole group of bandits?” Clara asked, looping her arm through Hope’s and leading her back inside, clearly trying to distract her. “He ran out of bullets during the fight and resorted to using a hunk of firewood.”
“No!” Hope exclaimed, forcing her mind to focus on Clara and the story.
“Jackson knows what to do in a tight spot,” Clara assured her. “Why do you think I’m so calm about my brother going to confront Victor? He’d be dead already if it weren’t for Jackson.”
Hope tried to laugh, but nothing came out. “Don’t tease, Clara,” Hope begged, her voice a bit broken.
Daniel walked into the house, sniffing the air. “I thought I smelled Margaret’s cake…” He paused when he spotted Clara, his expression turning shy.
Hope introduced the two of them, realizing they’d never formally met. Daniel drifted awkwardly into the kitchen, his eyes never leaving Clara. Clara seemed unaware as she rambled cheerfully on about Jackson rescuing a group of kidnapped mail-order brides from train bandits.