"Lookouts."

Then toward the hills.

"Signals."

The townspeople listened.

For the next several days, Red Pine Crossing became something it had never been before.

A community preparing to defend itself.

Women prepared bandages and food.

Children carried messages.

Hunters studied the hills.

The blacksmith reinforced wagon axles.

Farmers dug shallow trenches.

Elias taught men how to fire from behind cover.

Sheriff Grady assigned patrols.

Abigail helped organize medical supplies.

One evening, she found Elias repairing a wagon wheel.

"You could leave," she said.

He looked up.

"So could you."

"I can't."

"Neither can I."

She smiled.

For the first time, Elias smiled back.

Neither noticed the figure watching them from the edge of town.

Virgil Cain had returned.

He sat on a distant ridge, looking through a spyglass.

Beside him were nearly thirty riders.

He studied the barricades.

Then he watched Abigail enter the cabin.

Cain lowered the glass.

"I know what Boone cares about now," he said.

His lieutenant looked at him.

"Who?"

Cain smiled.

"The woman."

The attack came sooner than expected.

Three days before the assault, one of the lookout boys came racing into town.

He was thirteen years old.

His horse was covered in sweat.

"They're coming!"

Sheriff Grady stepped outside the jail.

"Who?"

"Riders!"

"How many?"

The boy struggled to breathe.

"More than twenty."

The town froze.

Elias stepped forward.

"Where?"

"South valley."

Elias looked at the sky.

Clouds were gathering over the western mountains.

A storm was coming.

That changed everything.

"How long?"

The boy looked back.

"Maybe two hours."

Elias turned to Grady.

"Ring the church bell."

Grady nodded.

The bell began to ring.

Once.

Twice.

Then again.

Doors opened.

Families hurried toward shelters.

Men grabbed rifles.

Women gathered children.

The town's plan unfolded.

Wagons were pushed across the main road.

Barrels were stacked behind them.

Hay bales formed defensive positions.

Elias positioned hunters in the upper lofts.

He had one instruction.

"Don't shoot to kill unless you have no other choice."

A young rancher frowned.

"Why?"

"Because dead men can't tell us where Cain is."

The rancher nodded.

Abigail stood near the church with a medical bag.

Elias approached her.

"You should be inside."

"So should you."

"I'm not carrying a child."

She gave him a sharp look.

"I'm not helpless."

"I know."

"Then don't talk to me like I am."

Elias paused.

"All right."

She lowered her voice.

"Will we survive?"

He looked into her eyes.

"I intend to."

She understood what he meant.

Not "I."

"We."

He walked away.

The first gunshot came at noon.

It struck the church bell.

A second shot shattered a store window.

Then the hills came alive.

Riders appeared along the southern road.

Twenty.

Then twenty-five.

Then more.

Cain rode at the center.

His black coat moved in the wind.

He raised his rifle.

"Red Pine Crossing!"

His voice carried across the valley.

"You have one chance!"

Nobody answered.

"You give us your horses, food, weapons, and money, and we leave you standing."

Silence.

Cain laughed.

"Otherwise, we burn the town."

Sheriff Grady stepped onto the street.

"You've got nothing here."

Cain pointed at him.

"You've got three minutes."

Elias crouched behind a wagon.

"He's bluffing."

Grady looked at him.

"How do you know?"

"Because if he wanted to negotiate, he wouldn't have brought thirty rifles."

The first charge began.

Cain's riders surged forward.

The townspeople waited.

Closer.

Closer.

Elias raised his hand.

"Now."

Rifles cracked from the buildings.

Not at the men.

At the horses.

Several riders lost control.

One horse reared.

Another spun sideways.

The charge broke apart.

The outlaws had expected frightened settlers.

Instead, they found an organized defense.

Cain shouted orders.

His men dismounted.

They advanced on foot.

Smoke filled the street.

Bullets struck wagon boards.

Windows shattered.

The blacksmith fired from behind an overturned cart.

Hunters shot from the rooftops.

A farmer rolled a barrel down the street.

It struck two outlaws and knocked them into the mud.

For almost an hour, Cain could not break through.

Then he changed tactics.

"East side!"

Several riders moved toward the cabins.

Elias saw them.

"They're flanking us."

He ran.

Abigail was in the cabin.

So were several women and children.

Elias reached the eastern lane just as Cain's men appeared.

He fired.

One outlaw dropped his weapon.

Another ran.

A third raised his rifle.

Elias struck him with the butt of his own.

Then he heard Abigail shout.

"Behind you!"

Elias turned.

A man stood five feet away.

His rifle was raised.

Before he could fire, Abigail threw a heavy iron kettle.

It struck his wrist.

The rifle fell.

Elias tackled him.