"Hot water. Clean cloth."
Eleanor turned toward Miguel.
"And bring the whiskey from Thomas's study. Send someone for Thomas."
As she cleaned and dressed Jake's shoulder, he explained between clenched teeth.
"I was checking the fence line like Mr. Caldwell asked."
He breathed through the pain.
"Three men, maybe four. Cutting wire. Driving cattle toward the old mining road."
Eleanor kept working.
"When they saw me, one of them fired. Didn't even try warning me away."
Her hands paused.
These men weren't simply thieves afraid of capture.
They intended to frighten anyone who interfered.
"Did you recognize anybody?"
"One looked familiar."
Jake grimaced.
"Think I've seen him in town, but I can't place where."
Thomas arrived while Eleanor was finishing the bandage.
His face went pale with controlled fury at the sight of Jake injured.
"How bad?"
"His shoulder should heal."
Eleanor met Thomas's eyes.
"He needs rest and careful treatment, but the injury is manageable."
Something new entered Thomas's expression.
Recognition.
Not simply of Eleanor as housekeeper or teacher.
Of competence under pressure.
"Jake, you're staying in the bunkhouse the next several days."
Thomas's voice left no room for argument.
"No riding alone. No checking fences without at least two other men."
"Mr. Caldwell, I can work."
"You can work when you're healed."
Thomas cut him off.
"These men mean business. I will not have anybody else hurt on this property."
That evening, Jake settled into the bunkhouse and the boys slept upstairs.
Thomas and Eleanor sat in the kitchen planning.
"I sent Peter into town to wire the territorial marshal."
Thomas wrapped both hands around his coffee.
"But it'll take at least a week for anyone to reach us, assuming the weather holds."
Eleanor poured more coffee.
"What do we do until then?"
"Defend what's ours."
Thomas looked toward the window.
"I've got six good men, counting Jake when he's recovered."
He thought.
"And this house is solid. We can hold if we need to."
Eleanor imagined Daniel and Samuel upstairs.
"What if they come to the house?"
Thomas's expression changed.
"Then they'll discover threatening my family was a mistake."
The quiet steel in his voice sent a shiver through Eleanor.
Not fear.
Something like pride.
This man would protect what he loved.
Whatever the cost.
"What can I do?"
Thomas looked surprised.
"You?"
He shook his head.
"If trouble comes, I need you to take the boys to the root cellar. There are supplies there. Safest place on the ranch."
"That's not what I meant."
Eleanor straightened.
"I can shoot."
Thomas stared.
"My father taught me when I was 12."
She continued.
"And I know basic medical care, as you saw today."
Her expression hardened.