Pemberley Ranch

shooting up the house again. Darcy returned fire, trying to hit the shadows. “Fire at the gun flashes!” he cried.

He noted that the fire seemed heaviest at his side of the house, and he could feel the hair on the back of his neck rise in warning. Denny was a bushwhacker, he remembered. He knows all kinds of tricks.

It was then he heard a cry to his left. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as he turned towards the noise. There was Ethan writhing on the floor, Beth kneeling beside him, and there was a strange orange glow outside the side window.

Fire! his tired mind screamed. They’re trying to burn us out!

Darcy tried to get moving towards the window, but he couldn’t seem to get his legs to move right. As he yelled a warning, Beth reached down and picked up Ethan’s rifle. To Darcy’s horror, she stood up and took aim out the window. Darcy got his feet under him, and a moment later, he slammed into the wall beside Beth just as she fired the Winchester.

“Get down!” he screamed as he took aim. He saw a figure twenty yards away, reaching back to throw a lighted torch at the roof. The gunshot that knocked the man off his feet sounded unnaturally loud, and it was then Darcy realized Beth had fired at the same time as he did.

Beth, her eyes wide, expertly worked the lever, chambering another round. “Did we get them?”

“Don’t know—keep firing!” The two kept a steady rhythm of suppression fire going until the enemy withdrew. As they took cover, Darcy noted that there were two dying torches on the ground—one twenty yards away, another ten yards beyond, each with a dark, still figure nearby.

“Are… are they dead?” asked Beth softly.

“Yeah.” He turned to Beth. “How is Ethan?”

She dropped down to look the man over until her mother arrived a moment later. “I… I think it’s his shoulder. I’m not sure.”

“Get him by the fire!” Mrs. Bennet barked. The three of them dragged the groaning man to the hearth where Mary was waiting. “We’ll take care of this! Get back to the window!”

They returned to their guns, and Darcy turned on Beth. “Just what the hell did you think you were doing?”

“What do you think?” she spat back. “Ethan was shot, and those men were coming. I had to do something!”

Darcy breathed hard, but try as he might, he couldn’t overcome her logic. “Where’d you learn to shoot like that?”

To his surprise, it was Bennet that answered. “I taught all my girls to shoot, Will. You never know what you’ll find in the woods. Beth here is almost as good as her brother was.”

“Better!” she claimed with a smile.

“Boss,” said José from the back, “we’re a man short. You’d better let señorita keep that rifle, I think.”

Darcy didn’t like it, but he had no choice. “All right! But will you do as I say?”

Beth nodded, and Darcy positioned her at the far left window. José took over Ethan’s place, another man took the rear of the house, and Darcy exchanged places with Bennet. If Beth was going to fight, he reasoned, at least she would be surrounded by people who were very good with a gun. Now at the door, Darcy peeked out into the night. The moon was behind the house, and the shadows grew long. Dawn would not be far away.

Darcy grew grim. He knew Whitehead was still out there somewhere. This gambit of his had failed, but there would be others. Whitehead would have to move in soon; with the sunrise, he would lose all cover.

Maybe not, Darcy realized. The house faced due east. With the dawn, the defenders would be staring directly into the sun. For a few minutes they would be blind.

If I know that, Whitehead can figure it out. Denny certainly will.”

Everyone get an extra rifle. The next attack will be better coordinated than the last one. Peter!”

“Yo, boss,” came a voice from Bennet’s study.

“Keep a sharp eye on the barn. They haven’t tried taking it yet. Make sure you cover our people.” Darcy then turned his attention to his casualties. “Miz Bennet, how’s Ethan?”

Fanny’s determined voice had disappeared. “I’ve stopped the bleeding, but he’s lost a lot of blood. We need a doctor!”

“I think we know that, dear,” Bennet wearily stated. He turned to Darcy. “When will they come, son?”

Darcy swallowed. He couldn’t quite make it out, but he thought he saw Beth smile in reaction to her father’s choice of words. “Soon. Probably with the sunrise.” He paused. “You’re a good man with a rifle, sir.”

“Call me Tom, Will. Yeah, I do all right.” He paused and continued in a whisper. “It’s not good, is it?”

Will had to tell the truth. “No, it isn’t.”

“You’ll take care of my family?”

“Tom…”

“Son, don’t pee on my boot and tell me it’s raining. Anything happens to me, you’ll watch over them?”

“Like they were my own.”

“All right, then.” Bennet didn’t say another word but stared out into the darkness.

Pyke was reporting to Whitehead. “We lost three men, including Thorpe.” Collins groaned and held his head in his hands.

“Well, let me tell ya what we oughta do, GW!” Denny then lowered his voice. “We oughta figure out a way of gittin’ this here job done without losin’ any more of my boys. The rest are gittin’ antsy, an’ that ain’t a good thing.”

Collins picked up his head. “I thought you could keep your gang in line!”

“Looky here, ya jackass! Why don’t you carry the next torch up to the house, huh?” Denny pulled his gun. “In fact, why don’t you do it right now, Collins?”

Collins recoiled in terror, and Whitehead held out his hand. “Put that away, Denny, and take it easy.”

Instead of doing as he was told, Denny turned on his employer. “And you can keep your orders to yourself, GW! You better remember who those boys listen to, and it ain’t you!” Eyes wide and breathing hard, Denny waved his pistol between his three companions. “Big words, big promises. You spun me a fancy tale, Whitehead; I was gonna be rich, but so far I ain’t seen nothin’! My boys are lookin’ for gold, and all they’re gittin’ tonight is lead. They’re ’bout ready to break, an’ I’m ’bout ready to join ’em. Ya better come up with a good idea quick, or you’ll find yourself by yourself!”

Whitehead could feel the eyes of Pyke and Collins on him, waiting for him to take control of the situation. The problem was Whitehead was out of ideas. His talent was in strategic planning; the tactics he left to people like Collins and Denny. All he had left was his powers of persuasion. Whitehead had to be careful now with Denny. One wrong word and he could end up dead.

“Denny, I know how you feel. I want what’s coming to me, too. But it’s those people that stand between us and our riches! Railroad money, Denny! Cash on the barrelhead! You heard my friend in Fort Worth. This is for real. But without this farm, the railroad won’t be coming here. I’ll lose everything!

“You’re lucky. This thing falls apart, you’re no worse off than before. Hell, you’ve had it pretty good, haven’t you? Two meals a day, a dry bed at night, liquor, women. Sure, you had to ride some cattle, but it’s better than how it was in Missouri, right?

“But me—I’ve got my whole life riding on this. This blows up, I’m done, and so is Collins here. But we can still win! We can still get everything we’ve ever wanted! But we got to finish the job tonight!”

Whitehead held his breath, wondering if Denny believed him. The gunfighter stared a hole through him and then holstered his gun. “All right—how?”

Whitehead exhaled, knowing he had placated Denny for now. “Look, I got you the railroad. You tell me what to do now. This is your province, bushwhacker.”

Denny rocked back on his heels and thought. “Only way to git them people out is to burn ’em out.”

Pyke groaned. “We tried that!”

“No!” Denny snapped. “Not the right way! What we need here is a wagon, filled with hay. Set that sucker on fire, an’ push it against the side o’ the house. That’ll git ’em! The wagon’ll shield us from their guns, so they can’t