Page 83 of Mail-Order Lady

She ran through the main room where Thomas and Nathan stood facing each other, their voices rising. The other women had gathered—Mandie with Catherine, Rose, Kate.

“We can’t leave the house.” Thomas’s voice carried that hard edge he got when he’d made a decision. “Sutton said he has men with guns stationed all the way around.”

“If there’s blasting powder, we have to get out.” Nathan’s tone held steady. “I’ve seen what it can do.”

Kate must have filled them all in.

Clara didn’t stop to argue. The study. She could see Robert from there.

She pushed through the study door. The room sat dark except for the faint moonlight filtering through the window.

The window that faced where Robert had fallen.

She reached the glass and pressed her palms against the cool pane. Her eyes strained to make out the black shapes in the yard. The outline of the trees. The shadow where the outhouse stood. The spot where Robert had fallen. The place in that darkness where he’d dropped to the ground after that shot cracked through the night.

But she couldn’t see him.

Not his body lying in the grass. Not the shape of him trying to crawl to safety. Nothing.

Had the shooter dragged him away? Was he⁠—

No. She couldn’t let herself finish that thought.

But the not knowing carved through her worse than anything else. If she could just see him. If she could know whether he still breathed. Whether his heart still beat.

Whether she’d lost him before she’d ever had the chance to tell him she loved him.

The others followed her into the study. Their voices filtered through the roaring in her ears, but she couldn’t pull her gaze from the empty yard.

“We need to get out.” Nathan’s voice cut through the haze clouding her mind. “I’ll be the test.”

She glanced back at him. “What?”

He moved closer to the window, his rifle gripped in both hands. “I’ll run out. You all have guns aimed at those trees. The moment you see the flash of a shot, shoot that spot.”

“No.” Thomas stepped closer. “You’re barely recovered. You can’t⁠—”

“I’ve survived worse.” Nathan’s jaw set in that way that made him look so much like Enoch. “If there are men out there, we need to know where they are. Better me than someone with a family.”

The words sliced through Clara’s chest. Thomas had Kate and their new baby to protect.

Maybe she should go. Especially if Robert…

But Thomas was already handing out rifles, and Nathan nudged her aside to unfasten the window latch.

She took the rifle Thomas handed her, and the weight of it finally cleared away her fog. She had to focus on protecting her family with everything she had.

Thomas stood at the side of the window, his rifle aimed at the trees. Nathan prepared to climb through the opening, and she, Kate, and Bea positioned themselves behind him so they could close in and shoot when he dropped to the ground outside.

She pressed the heavy wood stock to her shoulder. Thomas had given her and Kate several shooting lessons after she’d recovered from scarlet fever. Life in this wild country required the use of a gun at times, especially with the ever-present threat of more men from Reginald.

Now she might have to use that training.

Nathan swung one leg over the sill, then the other, and lowered himself until he was hanging by his hands from the window ledge, his feet dangling. He dropped.

The thud of boots hitting ground drifted to them. Then nothing.

She pressed to the window beside Kate, rifle stock against her shoulder, barrel pointed at the dark mass of the tree line.