Page 57 of A Dangerous Heart
Clare’s voice echoed in his mind.I know how to disable the dynamite. My father taught me. He used to take me with him when he set charges…showed me all the ways to disarm it.Her tone had been so matter-of-fact, but Isaac sensed something deeper. It was strange, a man like her father teaching his daughter to handle explosives. But he had, and even if she hadn’t used it in years, the knowledge was there.
Isaac wondered if her father had realized, before it was too late, that Clare wasn’t meant for that kind of life—not because she was weak but because of her strength. She wouldn’t go through with it because she refused to let herself become like him. Isaac felt a quiet admiration stirring within him.
He stared at the maps until his eyes blurred. He couldn’t see any way for this to end without bloodshed. And he was desperately afraid it would mean the grief of losing his nephew. Or one of his brothers.
“Isaac.”
Clare’s soft summons turned him away from the table.
She stood nearby, in the doorway of the small downstairs bedroom where David usually slept. One hand was braced against the jamb, and with the other, she waved him forward.
He was drawn to her, but he told himself it was the lines of exhaustion around her mouth that put his feet into motion.
She looked apologetic. “Ben asked for you.”
He nodded and angled his shoulders to pass her in the doorway, aware of her watching him as he approached the bed. Ben looked so small, skin still pale from the long wagon ride he’d endured today. Isaac perched on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle the boy’s leg.
“You were brave today, riding in the wagon for so long when I know it hurt your leg.”
Ben jutted his chin out. “Didn’t hurt as much as on the way to town.”
Isaac tousled his hair, still gentle.
“Wish I was in the bunkhouse with Eli ’n’ David.” Ben’s gaze flicked to the window, where the shadowy outline of the bunkhouse was just visible across the yard. “Bet they’re having fun.”
“They’d better be asleep,” Isaac said.
But he’d guess that Ben was right and the older boys were whispering, discussing the news that had unfolded today and how they might be a part of whatever the men planned tomorrow. Drew and Ed wanted to take immediate action, but they hadn’t decided what to do. He and Nick would join them later to discuss their next steps.
Ben yawned widely.
“Clare said you needed to talk to me,” Isaac prompted.
Ben fiddled with the quilt, bunching it in his fingers. “We’re McGraws now, right?”
Isaac heard Clare’s indrawn breath from the doorway.
But if he’d expected her to join in the conversation, he was disappointed. “That’s right,” he said.
Ben ducked his head so Isaac only had a view of his cheek and chin. “And McGraws take care of each other?”
Those were Drew’s words. How many times had Isaac heard them after Pa had passed, when it’d seemed like they wouldn’thave enough food to last through the winter? When he’d come home from the Marshals and hadn’t even been able to look his brother in the eye when he asked whether he could stay on.
He hadn’t realized he’d said them enough times to Ben that they’d stuck.
There was a knot in his throat that made his voice rough when he answered. “McGraws do.”
“If—if some bad men are here”—Ben’s voice was so quiet that Isaac had to lean in to hear—“what if they try to take me ’n’ Eli away?”
Oh.
Ben had heard enough of the adult conversation to be afraid. To know his pa’s gang was close.
Movement from the doorway drew Isaac’s attention, and he glanced up to see Clare with one hand over her mouth and tears welling in her eyes.
Isaac put his hand on Ben’s shoulder. “You don’t need to worry about that. You’re right about being a McGraw. No one is going to take you away from your aunt.”
Ben watched Isaac’s face carefully, then broke into a small smile. “I like it here. But not all the chores. Just the ones in the barn.”
