against the table, and she gripped the edge for support. She listened for movement upstairs but heard nothing. Everything moved slowly. Each step was as if she moved through molasses. Each word from Hughes was unhurried.
She backed into the kitchen, deliberately leading him away from the boys. This was the man that frightened Shorty, she reminded herself. A monster. There was no telling what he might do to her or the boys. She’d have to think of something to save them.
“I don’t want Matthias,” Hughes said.
“Then go on,” she said. Her hands skimmed behind her, tracing across the table for something, anything... a knife, a fork, but her hands met with nothing.
A sound distracted her, and Luke appeared in the doorway. His eyes were wide, and he stared at the intruder with curiosity.
Hughes followed her gaze. “Who does that brat belong to?”
“He’s my…son. He belongs to me. He doesn’t speak.”
Luke stuck his thumb in his mouth and sucked, keeping his gaze on Hughes.
“Go back upstairs, Luke. I’ll be up soon.”
Hughes snorted. “Doubtful.”
“Do as I say,” she coaxed. “Be a good boy.”
Luke took his thumb out of his mouth with a pop. “Okay, Momma.”
He turned away, and she listened as he went up the steps. He’d spoken. It was the first time she’d heard him say anything, and he’d called her Momma .
Hughes eyed her, and she wondered if he might change his mind about whatever devilry he had planned.
He held up his hand. His pinky finger was missing. His wounded hand festered, and the stench hit her, making her stomach clench.
She set her trembling hand over her mouth. Silence stretched between them as she waited for an explanation.
“Your man did this to me. I’m here for payback. Sheriff Reid said you got two of them boys. Three of you going to pay what Hudson owes me.”
Her heart thudded in her chest. She stared at the grisly wound. The boys slept upstairs, and she pictured them in their beds. Blood roared in her ears. Her hands curled into fists.
He rubbed his hand across his face and tilted his head toward the stove. “Watcha got on the stove?”
“It’s venison chili. Would you care for some?” She moved to the stove and lifted the pot lid. A cloud of steam wafted in the air, and she waved it away.
A tiny growl and bark came from the doorway. Patch was barking and posturing as if he would run Hughes off. He yipped.
Hughes laughed, “What the hell is…”
Isabelle saw her chance. She gripped the handle and whirled around, scalding hot skillet in hand. The iron clanged, and she heard Hughes give a huff of surprise. She opened her eyes to find him face down on the ground.
She dropped the pan to the floor and looked at her hand. The burn blistered, yet she felt nothing.
Hughes lay still, no sign of life. She grabbed a rolling pin and crouched down slowly, ready to strike again. She touched his wrist, half-expecting him to jerk away, but he didn’t move. She felt for a pulse and found none.
She got to her feet and went upstairs. She wasn’t sure what she expected to find, but one thing she didn’t anticipate was to find the two boys fast asleep. She stared at them in disbelief.
Patch lay curled up at the foot of Luke’s bed. He lifted his head and gazed at her. She stroked his ears. The small pup, the runt she was certain she shouldn’t bring home, had distracted Hughes just enough for her to save herself, and the boys… the smallest life in the house saved the day.
Patch got up, circled a few times and settled into sleep with a heavy sigh.
Sitting down at the foot of the bed, Isabelle watched the boys and the small dog dozing peacefully. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, but she was drawn from her daze by the sound of a horse.
She went downstairs and met Matthias at the door.
“Isabelle,” he said from between gritted teeth. He looked her up and down. She’d forgotten all about the chili on her clothing.
“What happened?” He
She backed into the kitchen, deliberately leading him away from the boys. This was the man that frightened Shorty, she reminded herself. A monster. There was no telling what he might do to her or the boys. She’d have to think of something to save them.
“I don’t want Matthias,” Hughes said.
“Then go on,” she said. Her hands skimmed behind her, tracing across the table for something, anything... a knife, a fork, but her hands met with nothing.
A sound distracted her, and Luke appeared in the doorway. His eyes were wide, and he stared at the intruder with curiosity.
Hughes followed her gaze. “Who does that brat belong to?”
“He’s my…son. He belongs to me. He doesn’t speak.”
Luke stuck his thumb in his mouth and sucked, keeping his gaze on Hughes.
“Go back upstairs, Luke. I’ll be up soon.”
Hughes snorted. “Doubtful.”
“Do as I say,” she coaxed. “Be a good boy.”
Luke took his thumb out of his mouth with a pop. “Okay, Momma.”
He turned away, and she listened as he went up the steps. He’d spoken. It was the first time she’d heard him say anything, and he’d called her Momma .
Hughes eyed her, and she wondered if he might change his mind about whatever devilry he had planned.
He held up his hand. His pinky finger was missing. His wounded hand festered, and the stench hit her, making her stomach clench.
She set her trembling hand over her mouth. Silence stretched between them as she waited for an explanation.
“Your man did this to me. I’m here for payback. Sheriff Reid said you got two of them boys. Three of you going to pay what Hudson owes me.”
Her heart thudded in her chest. She stared at the grisly wound. The boys slept upstairs, and she pictured them in their beds. Blood roared in her ears. Her hands curled into fists.
He rubbed his hand across his face and tilted his head toward the stove. “Watcha got on the stove?”
“It’s venison chili. Would you care for some?” She moved to the stove and lifted the pot lid. A cloud of steam wafted in the air, and she waved it away.
A tiny growl and bark came from the doorway. Patch was barking and posturing as if he would run Hughes off. He yipped.
Hughes laughed, “What the hell is…”
Isabelle saw her chance. She gripped the handle and whirled around, scalding hot skillet in hand. The iron clanged, and she heard Hughes give a huff of surprise. She opened her eyes to find him face down on the ground.
She dropped the pan to the floor and looked at her hand. The burn blistered, yet she felt nothing.
Hughes lay still, no sign of life. She grabbed a rolling pin and crouched down slowly, ready to strike again. She touched his wrist, half-expecting him to jerk away, but he didn’t move. She felt for a pulse and found none.
She got to her feet and went upstairs. She wasn’t sure what she expected to find, but one thing she didn’t anticipate was to find the two boys fast asleep. She stared at them in disbelief.
Patch lay curled up at the foot of Luke’s bed. He lifted his head and gazed at her. She stroked his ears. The small pup, the runt she was certain she shouldn’t bring home, had distracted Hughes just enough for her to save herself, and the boys… the smallest life in the house saved the day.
Patch got up, circled a few times and settled into sleep with a heavy sigh.
Sitting down at the foot of the bed, Isabelle watched the boys and the small dog dozing peacefully. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, but she was drawn from her daze by the sound of a horse.
She went downstairs and met Matthias at the door.
“Isabelle,” he said from between gritted teeth. He looked her up and down. She’d forgotten all about the chili on her clothing.
“What happened?” He
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