Walt turned to the window again, staring into the night. Then he looked back at Jim. “Why?”
Jim drew out his pistol. “Easy thing to pull a trigger and kill a man. Harder to build something. Especially something that lasts.” Jim let his eyes roam over the cabin, the roof, the walls, the table and chairs. “Think about how long it took to build this place, how many hours your grandfather and I worked on it…and then think about how quick it would be to burn it down.”
“Pretty quick.”
“Just as quick to kill the owner and take it for yourself.”
“Will they come tonight?”
“I think so, just before dawn, when we’re most tired. But it could be anytime, really.”
“I want to fight,” Walt said. “When they come, I mean. I want to keep Ma and Alma safe.”
“Good,” Jim said.
Walt gave him a quizzical look. “You aren’t mad at me?”
“For what?” Jim laughed. “Wanting to fight to protect your mother and sister? I want the same thing.”
“Ma wouldn’t like it.”
“No, she wouldn’t.”
“But she’s wrong?”
Jim smiled. “Your mother wants to protect you, same as you do her. She thinks she can keep you safe forever.”
“She can’t, though.” Walt frowned at the floor.
“She can’t,” Jim sighed. “But that won’t stop her from trying.”
Jim looked out again into the darkness.
“When they come,” Jim said. “Your job isn’t to kill them.”
“No?”
“No. Your job is to protect your ma and sister. That means getting them to safety, not staying and fighting,” Jim said. “Fighting may be part of it, but the main thing is to get away.”
“That sounds like turning yellow.”
“It might. But you’re young yet. Too young to fight grown men. Someday that won’t be the case, but for now, if they hit us and get into the cabin, your job is to get you and your sister away to safety.”
“Not Ma?”
“My job is to get her away to safety. You might help me some, but she wouldn’t want you waiting for her. If we’re in danger and you see a chance to take Alma and run, you do it. Head for Onionville. You know the way.”
“Alright.”
Jim could see the boy was dejected. He imagined that he would have felt the same at that age.
“I’ll take your word on that,” Jim said.
Walt held out his small hand, and Jim shook it. It struck him then that this was the first time he had shaken his son’s hand.
“Never break your word,” Jim said.
“I won’t.”
Walt, too, seemed to sense the seriousness of the moment. His eyes were steady and unflinching, and Jim knew he meant it. A year or two older, and Jim would have handed Walt a pistol, but the boy wasn’t quite old enough for that.
A sound outside broke into Jim’s thoughts. The Appaloosa had kicked the barn wall. No reason for him to do that unless…
“Go wake the others, then get under your bed with your sister,” Jim said.
Walt took off and Jim blew out the candle, then lifted his rifle to the window. He eased the hammer back, sighting in along the corner of the barn. Unless he missed his guess, they would come from that direction, keeping the bulk of the barn between themselves and the cabin to get in close.
Jim heard David and the others around him taking up their rifles.
“They’re coming?” David asked around a yawn.
“Think so. Horses were stirring.”
“I was hoping they’d wait until dawn,” David said, and yawned for a second time.
Ellen patted Jim on the back. Then she took up her rifle and moved off to the nearby window.
“Watch the back of the barn,” Jim said. “I’ll cover the front. Don’t fire unless they’re out in the open and you get a good shot.”
