"It'll be okay, Bran," she said softly. "Everyone's safe—"
"This time." His voice was quiet, but there was steel underlying his tone. Finally, he turned to look at her, his face illuminated in the orange glow of the fire. The shadows of the night couldn't conceal his desolation.
Her breath caught in her throat. "You – you blame yourself for this, Brandon?"
His eyes blazed in the darkness. "Who else, Allison? Who else should I blame?"
She shook her head. "This wasn't your fault!"
"I'm here. They want me gone – out of your life. Message's plain enough."
"No. That's not all they want. They want you gone, the boys sent back, and Jay to disappear. They want me…just like I was before—" She broke off, looking past him at the fire. "I didn't realize…but why?"
Brandon reached to wipe the sweat out of his eyes. "It's not just you, sweetheart. You've been vulnerable all these years, that's for sure. But as long as Smith had a hope in hell of marrying you, you've been somewhat protected – in an odd way. Now – all bets are off. And you blasting his kneecap away, bringing me here, and going on with your plans has made him uncomfortable – to say the least."
"What else could I do?" Allie whispered softly. "I couldn't walk away – from any of it. "I wouldn't have, even if I could!"
"I know that." He sighed. "I know you're determined to stay—"
"And more." Allie's voice heated with the inner fire of righteous anger. "This is my land. Our land. Jay is our son, and you're my husband now."
"You forgot something."
The last of the burning timbers shifted, sending up a noisy shower of sparks. Brandon reached for her hand. The gesture was so reminiscent of that long-ago morning they'd shared as adolescents, it made Allie's eyes prickle with sudden tears.
"What?"
"The dream." Brandon's response was quiet, but heartfelt.
Allie fought for control. The dream. By the way he'd said it, she knew he'd embraced it and recognized her fear that she was trying to make it come true alone.
As if to be sure she understood, he said, "Our dream, Allison."
He reached to smooth away a strand of her hair, and she laid her cheek into his palm. "It's going to happen," she whispered. She wanted to tell him she felt invincible, which would sound crazy in light of what just happened. But with him beside her, she felt like nothing could stop them, nothing could take away the world they were going to create here for themselves and the boys who trusted them.
Brandon laughed softly. "I know, sweetheart." His calloused touch was gentle on her skin. "You won't have it any other way. And neither will I."
****
Allie awoke in the early gray of morning. She lay close to Brandon, their legs tangled together atop the sheets. The night had cooled some, but this May had been oppressively hot, and there was no hint of a breeze in the air. Sticky already. Allie grimaced as she disentangled herself from Brandon's added warmth, trying not to wake him.
He cracked an eye open and gave a sleepy groan as she stirred. "Allie?" He moved into the space she'd vacated, lying on his stomach.
"I have to get up," she said reluctantly. "You rest a while longer."
"Five minutes." His eyes closed again.
Allie smiled as she stood up, reaching to open the dresser drawer. "Okay. Five minutes." Her gaze roamed over the contours of his hard, lean body. The bandaging had slipped, she noted. He breathed evenly, asleep again, his dark lashes more prominent now that some of the swelling had receded. He slept hard, his face bearing the lines of concentration.
Allie quickly dressed in the semi-darkness of the early morning. Should she wake him? He didn't look as though sleep was offering much of a haven of rest, even though he had to be bone weary from the harrowing night before. The smell of smoke still hung heavy in the air, seeming to wrap about their little home. She turned away toward the small dressing table. Brushing her long hair, she twisted it into a bun and pinned it in place.
There was a soft knock at the door as she put the last hairpin in place. She opened it to Jay, his face lighting up in a wide grin. "Could we have pancakes, Mama?" he whispered. "The others, they don't get that very often."
She nodded, kneeling in front of him. "I think that's a wonderful idea." Her brows drew together. "We may have to use some sugar – we're short on syrup."
"It's okay, Mama. They won't mind." He peered around the doorframe at Brandon's sleeping figure. "Pa gets the syrup. If there's any left, well…we'll just see how far it goes, won't we?"
Allie hugged him quickly. "You're a good boy, Jay." She stood up, pulling the door closed behind her as she stepped into the front room. "I'm going to need some eggs."
"I'll get 'em."
"Take some of the younger boys with you," she said. He looked up at her questioningly. He was growing up. Time for the younger boys to take over the chores they could do. Everyone was going to have to pull their weight if this was going to work. She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Show them how to collect the eggs."