“They’re all depending on me.” Her tiny voice nearly got swallowed up in his chest. Mal loosened his hold and gave her room to breathe.
She sniffed a couple times, ran the edge of her sleeve beneath her nose—an action that brought to mind the little girl he’d once known—then turned her face up to look at him. Streaked with soot and tears, hair in a tangled mess, he shouldn’t have found her lovely. Yet he did. So lovely his chest ached.
“They’re all depending on me,” she repeated. “They’re depending on me, and I have absolutely no idea what to do. I can’t keep them safe. Can’t protect their property, their livelihoods. This situation is completely outside my control.”
“Leading ain’t about controlling everything, Emma.” Mal dropped his arms from around her and took a step back. “It’s about helping the people around you succeed. Encouraging them to be their best selves.” He kicked the toe of his mud-caked boot against the garden fence. “You’ve got that talent in spades. It’s why they follow you.”
It’s why I followed you.
She shook her head.
He frowned. “Don’t go arguin’ with me.”
She shook her head again anyway. Muleheaded female.
“A good leader would know what to do. I’m too young. Too inexperienced.”
Malachi crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the fence. He scowled at her, too. He wasn’t about to let her momentary doubts steal her confidence, her drive. He knew firsthand how hard it was to escape the mire of believing you weren’t good enough. He’d been spoon-fed that drivel his entire childhood. Until Emma and the aunts had taught him differently. Time he returned the favor.
“So is that why you brought me here?” he challenged. “’Cause you needed a man to be the leader for you?”
Her brows scrunched downward. “No. I brought you here to help.”
“To help, huh?” He pushed away from the fence and glared at her. “Okay. Then here’s my first tip. Quit knocking yourself down. No one knows what to do when thrust into a situation they’ve never encountered before, no matter their age or experience. All anyone can do is take the information they’ve been given, weigh the risks and rewards, then make the best decision possible at the time. I’ll help you gather that information, Emma. I’ll teach you and the others how to defend yourselves. Shoot, I’ll even give you my advice—not that you’ll take it.” He gave her a meaningful look, recalling the way she’d disregarded his instructions to stay inside.
She jutted her chin out in response, that familiar spark of defiance returning to her eyes.
He had to work hard to hold back his grin.
“But you’re the one these ladies respect,” Mal reminded her. “You’re the one they trust. Not me. You are their leader.”
She glanced away, her face a mask of concentration as she silently battled to subdue her doubts. Mal watched her struggle for a moment, then, on impulse, grabbed her hand.
Emma blinked. She glanced at his hand on hers, then lifted her eyes to his face.
His throat suddenly tight, Mal fought the urge to drop her hand and turn away. She needed to know she wasn’t in this alone. He tightened his grip.
“I’ll be here for you,” he vowed. “For as long as it takes. You don’t have to shoulder the load on your own. I’ll help you carry it.”
And when she didn’t need his help anymore? Malachi tried to ignore the insidious thought as he basked in the light of Emma’s grateful smile, but the prospect lingered in the air between them, tainting the sweetness of the moment like rotted beef in a savory stew.
Leaving her once had left scars he’d yet to recover from. He wasn’t sure he could survive the experience a second time.
11
Mal woke to the sound of roosters—multiple roosters—crowing to announce the coming day. The chicken farm stood far enough away that most townsfolk with closed doors and windows would probably sleep through the racket, but Malachi had opted for a pallet in the stable with the barn door wide open.
Emma had tried to shuttle him off last night to one of the homes in town that had been vacated after the first group of women left, but he’d refused to go. Some deranged lunatic was out there threatening the women of Harper’s Station, and the females he cared about most were holed up together in the old station house. He wasn’t about to leave them unguarded.