Chapter 2 Trouble at Midnight

Lila woke with a start. Her eyes snapped open to the hush of the dark, and she reached under her pillow for the Colt. Something had changed in the air-too still, too heavy. Like the calm before a thunderstorm.

Then she heard it.

Three soft knocks.

Not on the door. On the wall beneath her window.

She slipped out of bed, barefoot, heart pounding. Her mind raced with questions, but instinct moved faster than fear. She crept to the edge of the stairs and peered down.

Jack was gone.

The blanket lay rumpled on the couch, the mug empty on the table. The rifle she'd left by the door-gone too.

Lila's grip on the Colt tightened as she descended, slow and silent.

Outside, the barn lantern had been doused. Shadows swallowed everything beyond the front porch. But there-just past the fence-a figure moved, dark against darker.

She slipped out the back door, bare feet soundless on the cool earth, and crept around the side of the house.

Jack stood near the edge of the corral, crouched low, watching.

He turned slightly when she approached, but didn't speak. Just raised a hand in warning. She stopped, heart thudding.

Then she saw him.

A man, tall and wide-shouldered, his hat low and rifle in hand, paced near the barn doors. He wasn't looking for cattle.

He was looking for someone.

Jack whispered, "He's not alone."

As if on cue, another shadow darted behind the well. And another, near the shed.

Three. Maybe four.

Lila leaned in. "Who are they?"

"Someone I'd hoped not to see again." Jack's voice was grim.

"Outlaws?"

"Bounty hunters. Or worse. Men who'd sell a corpse for coin, and ask questions later."

She swallowed. "Are they here for you?"

He hesitated. "Yes."

She exhaled hard, jaw tightening. "I should've left you bleeding on that road."

"Probably." He looked at her then, something unreadable in his eyes. "But you didn't."

From the barn, a quiet thud-hoof against wood.

One of the men turned, stepping closer to the door.

Lila's instincts kicked in. "If they open that barn, Dusty'll raise hell. She hates strangers."

Jack nodded. "Then we stop them before they try."

She gave him a look. "You're half-stitched and limping."

"And you're barefoot with a pistol older than both of us."

They stared at each other. Then, impossibly, both cracked the smallest smile.

Lila crouched behind the water trough. "I've got a clean shot at the one near the barn. You?"

Jack raised the rifle slowly, aiming toward the shed. "The bastard by the well. I'll count to three."

They moved like clockwork.

"One..."

"Two..."

CRACK!

Gunfire shattered the silence. The man by the shed dropped instantly. The one at the barn staggered, grazed, swearing loudly.

"Get down!" Jack barked, as a bullet whistled past his ear.

Chaos erupted-yelling, hoofbeats, more shots. Lila ducked behind the trough, heart hammering, her hands steady on the Colt.

Jack dropped to one knee, taking careful aim. Another shot-another body hit the ground.

"Two down," he muttered. "Two to go."

Lila rolled behind the fence, took aim at the third man charging from the trees-and fired.

Miss.

The man raised his gun-

Bang!

He jerked back and fell, clutching his shoulder. Jack had her covered.

The last rider turned tail, bolting into the darkness on foot, disappearing into the hills.

Silence crept back in, broken only by the panicked breath of horses and the slow creak of wind against the barn doors.

Lila stood slowly, Colt still raised.

Jack lowered his rifle. "You alright?"

She nodded. "You?"

"I've had worse." He winced. "But I'll need those stitches redone."

Lila looked around at the fallen bodies, blood staining her earth. Her land. Her quiet life.

"You brought war to my doorstep, Jack."

He didn't argue.

"I want answers," she said.

Jack looked at her, eyes sharp in the moonlight. "Then you better pour coffee. It's a long story."