Chapter Ten
The air was still overthe ranch, a deceptive calm before the storm. Deborah stood on the porch of Brenda's house, her gaze stretching out to the horizon where a thin ribbon of smoke curled skyward. A sudden barrage of gunfire splintered the silence, sending a flock of birds into frenzied flight. She flinched at the sound, her heart pounding a rapid staccato against her ribs.
"Lord have mercy," she whispered, blue eyes wide as the distant echo of chaos breached the quiet of her afternoon.
"Deborah!" Aaron's voice cut through the tension. "Get inside, now!"
She nodded, her hands trembling as she clutched the knitting needles she had somehow forgotten to put down. The sound of another gunshot made her jump, and the ball of yarn tumbled from her grasp, rolling across the wooden planks.
"Keep your head down," Aaron instructed, ushering her toward safety. His deep voice was steady, a comforting rumble amid the chaos.
"Are they coming closer?" Deborah's voice barely rose above a whisper, her fear rendering her usual soft-spoken tone even quieter.
"Can't tell yet." Aaron's eyes scanned the horizon, his protective instincts as evident as the concern etched on his brow. "We'll be ready for them either way."
"Ready?" Deborah asked, a flicker of incredulity on her face. "How does one get ready for such madness?"
"By sticking together," Aaron said simply, a hand resting briefly on her shoulder in a gesture meant to reassure. "We’re not alone in this, Deborah."
She managed a small nod, taking a shaky breath as she watched the smoke thicken in the distance. In that moment, she wished for nothing more than the soothing rhythm of her knitting, a small comfort against the backdrop of an escalating range war.
"Come on," he urged gently. "Let's see what we can do to shore up the defenses." Already there were ranch hands on duty watching for an escalation of the violence at all times. There was a signal for the neighbors who had promised to help. Three shots, and they would all come. And those who were further out would echo the shots, so it could be heard further away.
"All right," she agreed. Together, they stepped back into the house, the sound of their boots against the floorboards resolute in the face of uncertainty.
Deborah stepped into Brenda's parlor, a haven of camaraderie amid the turmoil outside. The room was filled with her sisters and friends, all gathered around a quilt that sprawled across their laps as they stitched in unison. Worried faces turned toward her as she entered.
"Deborah, come sit," Brenda beckoned, patting a cushion next to her. "We're just talking about what's been happening."
"Thank you," Deborah replied. Her hands fidgeted in her lap, missing the familiar needles and yarn that often calmed her.
"Can't make heads or tails of this senseless fighting," said Ruth, shaking her head, her fingers never pausing in their work. "But we've got each other, and that counts for something." Ruth was a member of their congregation, and someone they all adored.
"Sure does," Susan said, offering Deborah a smile. "And we've got your back, honey."
Deborah looked at the circle of determined faces, feeling the weight of her worries lighten ever so slightly. "I'm just scared is all," she admitted. "For Aaron, for the ranch... for us."
"Of course, you are," Brenda said, her tone soothing as she laid a comforting hand over Deborah's. "But remember, you're stronger than you think. You've built a life here, and you'll defend it."
"Stronger together," Ruth added with a nod.
"You’re right," Deborah said, drawing strength from their reassurance. "We can get through this."
"Exactly," Brenda agreed, her eyes sparkling with encouragement. "Now, let's get to stitching and planning."
"Deborah, I won't lie to you," Cassandra said, her voice barely above a whisper, "I hear those gunshots, and my heart speeds up every time. Feels like the whole world's on a knifepoint."
"Mine too," Jane agreed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "But then I remember we're not alone in this. We're a family."
"That we are," Deborah responded, feeling the tremor in her own voice. She glanced around, the faces of her sisters and friends etched with worry yet lined with determination.
"Family doesn't let family face troubles single-handed," Brenda said, her eyes meeting each of theirs in turn.
"Very true," acknowledged Ruth, her hands now still. "And families stick together when the wind blows fierce."
"Then let's think about what we can do," Deborah proposed, the seed of an idea beginning to sprout. "We've got smarts and numbers. We just need a plan."
"We need to build barriers first," Amy suggested, her brow furrowed in thought. "We could stack those hay bales high by the fences."
