Darcy counted the advantages to his position. One, everyone was armed with Winchesters, and all had plenty of ammo. Two, the full moon helped the defenders more than the attackers. Three, Darcy could count on the skill, dedication, and loyalty of his men. Four, Whitehead had no clear idea who he was dealing with, since Darcy let José do the talking.

In the deficit column, however, was the fact that Whitehead was in control of the fight. He had more men and room to maneuver. He could choose when, how, and where to attack. His people were ruthless and wouldn’t hesitate to kill. And Whitehead was desperate. Meanwhile, Darcy was handicapped by the women and the old man he was sworn to protect, and he had no idea if Hill would hold up. If they became trapped and needed to escape, they would have to shoot their way out.

Darcy would not kid himself—his position was precarious.

His musings were interrupted by a jostling of his boot. Glancing behind him, he was startled to see two large, dark eyes framed by a mass of curly hair.

“Beth! By God, woman, what are you doing out of the root cellar?” Darcy hissed. When the party retreated into the house, the women had been herded into the cellar for their protection.

Her eyes flashed in annoyance as she crawled closer. “We’re trying to help!” she said in a strong whisper as she shoved a rifle into his hands.

“What the—” Darcy looked beyond his beloved. In the dim light of the smoldering fire in the hearth he could make out two more figures crawling from the entrance of the cellar and one other person half-raised, handling a gun.

“Fanny!” Bennet tried to keep his voice down. “What are you doing?”

Mrs. Bennet had no qualms about staying quiet. “Thomas Bennet, I may not know how to shoot a gun, but I certainly can load one! You men keep an eye on those scoundrels out there, and me and my girls will pass you fresh weapons.”

“But… but, dear, you might get shot.”

“Not if we stay low to the floor. Now, hush up, or those evil men will hear you!”

Bennet shrugged and in a mock-serious tone to Darcy claimed, “Get the whip hand over them at once, Will! At once! You see what happens if you don’t?”

Beth grinned and began to crawl back. “Wait!” said Darcy. “Instead of reloading the extra rifles in one spot, split up the ammo—Kathy and Mary to that side, and you and Miz Bennet here. It’ll go faster.”

“Will,” complained Bennet, “don’t encourage them!”

“Sorry, Bennet, but it’s a good idea.” He turned back to Beth. “Just stay down!”

Beth retrieved another rifle. Just as she moved to Ethan by the north window, Whitehead’s people started 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!”