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."

"Good thinking," Susan nodded. "And those thorny bushes too. Make it tough for any unwanted guests."

"Aaron"s got that Winchester rifle," Brenda mused. "He"s a good shot, but he can"t be everywhere at once. Maybe we start practicing some shooting ourselves."

"Shooting? Us?" Cassandra chuckled nervously.

"Never too late to learn," Deborah stated firmly. "Aaron taught me to shoot shortly after we got here."

"Deborah"s right," Imogene confirmed. "We"ll stand by Aaron and our homes."

"Let"s hope it doesn"t come to that," Hannah sighed, "but better ready than sorry."

"Tomorrow, we start," Deborah announced.

*****

DEBORAH"S HEART WASa wild thing in her chest, thrumming with fear and determination as she watched the horizon, where plumes of smoke rose like specters against the late afternoon sky. She swallowed hard, the taste of dust and anxiety thick on her tongue.

"Come away from there," a gentle voice called from behind her. It was Susan. "You're borrowing trouble and letting worry eat at you."

Deborah turned, feeling the weight of her fears lessen just a smidgen at the sight of Susan"s calm demeanor. "Susan, I... How do you do it? Stand so strong when the world"s trying to knock you down?"

Susan chuckled softly, pulling Deborah into the cool shade of the porch. "Strength isn"t about never being scared. It"s about what you do when fear comes around. You"re stronger than you think, Deborah Tudor."

"Feels like I"m just playing at bravery," Deborah confessed, her fingers twisting the fabric of her apron.

"Playing or not, it"s there inside you," Susan assured her, reaching out to still Deborah's restless hands with her own. "You"ve got a light in you that this range war can"t snuff out. Remember that."

"Thank you, Susan," Deborah said.

"Go on now, get to your knitting. I"ve seen how those needles and yarn work better than anything else for your nerves," Susan said, giving Deborah a knowing smile.

"Guess it couldn"t hurt," Deborah replied, mustering a small smile of her own as she retrieved her knitting basket.

She settled into a wicker chair, the creak of its weave familiar and soothing. With each click and slide of her needles, Deborah felt the tight coil of fear inside her begin to unwind. Yarn over, through, pull, and off. The emerging pattern of the sock was simple, nothing fancy, but each stitch made her feel just a little bit better.

*****

DEBORAH TUCKED HERlatest knitted creation into the basket and stood up, smoothing out the folds of her cotton dress. The evening breeze carried a hint of jasmine and the distant murmur of voices. She walked down the porch steps, her sisters Gail and Hannah right behind her. It was time to weave the community as tightly as the patterns in her knitting.

"Deborah, do you think people will help?" Hannah asked, her voice tinged with hope.

"Only one way to find out," Deborah replied, squaring her shoulders. They made their way along the dusty path toward the neighboring farm.

At the first house, a gray-wooden structure with shutters hanging askew, they were greeted by Mrs. Mueller, whose apron was as worn as the smile lines around her eyes.

"Girls, what brings y"all this way?" Mrs. Mueller inquired, wiping her hands on her apron.

"Mrs. Mueller, we need to talk about the range war. It"s getting closer, and Aaron could use some help," Deborah explained, her voice steady despite the flutter in her chest.

"Say no more," Mrs. Mueller said, nodding decisively. "We"ll gather the men. Your husband won"t stand alone."

"Thank you kindly," Gail said, her relief evident.

"Let"s spread the word," Deborah suggested, feeling a surge of gratitude.

They continued from house to house, receiving nods, firm handshakes, and promises of support. By nightfall, they had rallied a small but determined group, ready to stand together against the encroaching threat.

*****

BACK AT brENDA"S HOUSE, Deborah sat under the stars, the warm night air brushing against her skin. She thought of the day"s efforts, of the faces that had shown concern and the hands that had been extended in friendship.

She had faced her fears head-on, learned to reach out, and found a community willing to reach back. Yes, she still trembled at the sound of gunfire, and yes, she still hesitated when speaking to men. But she was no longer the same woman who hid behind her knitting, hoping problems would pass her by.

"Look at you, all thoughtful under the moonlight," Gail teased, joining her on the grass.

"Was just thinking how much I"ve changed," Deborah admitted.

"Change is good," Hannah said, sitting on Deborah"s other side. "Shows you"re alive."

A distant crack shattered the stillness. Deborah's heart skipped a beat, and she clutched at the grass beneath her fingers, feeling the prick of the blades.

"Did you hear that?" Hannah whispered, her voice tight with worry.

"Sounds like trouble brewing again," Gail said, standing abruptly, eyes scanning the horizon where darkness met the faint glow of the homestead lights.

"Could be hunters," Deborah said hopefully. But another volley of gunfire, closer this time, cut through her denial.

"Too late for hunting," Hannah said, rising to her feet beside Gail.

The three sisters stood huddled together. A plume of smoke began to rise from the direction of their neighbors" property, twisting into the night sky like a dark omen.

"Lord almighty," Deborah murmured, her earlier resolve hardening into a steely determination.

"Deborah, what do we do?" Hannah asked.

"We stand by each other," Deborah replied firmly. "We"ve faced storms before."

"Let"s get inside," Gail urged, "We need to warn Aaron."

They moved as one, swift and silent across the dew-kissed grass. Inside, the warm glow of lamplight seemed a world away from the chaos outside.

"Should we light the lanterns on the porch? Signal to the others?" Hannah questioned.

"Could draw fire," Gail said. "We should shoot three times, like we've arranged."

"I agree with Gail," Deborah said, her voice steady even as her hands betrayed her with a slight tremble.

"All right," Gail said, picking up her rifle.

"God protect us," Deborah said. "God and a good Winchester," Deborah added, retrieving another rifle from its place above the mantel.

"Never thought I"d see you holding one of those," Hannah commented, a hint of her usual humor returning.

"Neither did I," Deborah admitted, hefting the weapon.

"Deborah, look!" Gail pointed towards a shadow moving against the backdrop of the burning field.

"Friend or foe?" Hannah asked, her hand instinctively reaching for the rifle.

"Can"t tell," Deborah said, squinting into the darkness.

"Best be ready for either," Gail said, her voice carrying a note of finality.

"Always am," Deborah replied, her grip tightening on the rifle.

A figure emerged from the smoke, striding purposefully toward them.

"Stand down, it"s Aaron!" Deborah recognized the confident gait of her husband.

Relief flooded through her, yet the unease lingered, a reminder that this night was far from over.

"Trouble"s coming our way," Aaron called out as he neared, urgency etched in his features.

"Then we"ll meet it together," Deborah answered, her voice betraying none of the fear that twisted in her gut.

"Get inside. Barricade the doors," Aaron instructed. "I"ll round up the men. We make our stand tonight."

Deborah nodded.

"Be safe," Hannah said.

"Always," he replied with a quick, reassuring squeeze of Deborah's arm before turning back into the night.

"Come on," Gail urged, pulling Deborah and Hannah back inside.

As they fortified the house, the sound of galloping hooves and rallying cries grew louder. Deborah glanced out the window one last time, watching as figures mounted on horseback gathered in the distance, silhouetted against the fires that now raged unabated.

"Whatever comes," Deborah said, meeting her sisters" gazes, "we face it as family."

Outside, a shout rose above the cacophony—a battle cry that set the night ablaze with defiance and fear. Deborah clenched her jaw, steeling herself for the fight ahead, knowing that the next hours would test the very fabric of their bond.