When the Storm Breaks

by Bonnie Leon

“Some things are better than money.” An evil smile touched Marshal’s lips.

  Daniel shrugged and tucked the envelope back into his pocket. “Have it your way, then.”

  Rush, Mr. O’Brien, Mr. Oxley, Davis, the reverend, and the others stepped out of hiding, their rifles trained on the intruders.

  Surprise lit Marshal’s eyes, but he quickly recovered. “You think this bunch of farmers is going to stand in my way?” He laughed. “You might get a couple of us, but every last one of you will be dead before we’re done.”

  “These are good men, and we’re not budging.” Daniel tipped his head up slightly and looked at Marshal through lowered lids. “I don’t want a fight, but I’ll give you one if you insist. This station belongs to God, but he put it in my care. I’m about his business today.” He smiled.

  Rebecca pressed a hand to her chest. She could feel her heart pounding. It would be so easy for one of those men to kill Daniel. “Lord, please protect him,” she whispered.

  “I’m not going to tell you again,” Marshal said. “You go, or my men will send you on your way.”

  The bushrangers dismounted, keeping their rifles pointed at Daniel and his friends.

  “I’m a tolerant man,” Marshal said, “but my patience has run out.” His blue eyes looked like ice.

  “I’d rather do business than kill one another,” Daniel said.

  “We’ll do business, all right.” Marshal rested his hands on his belt buckle. He moved his right hand closer to his holstered gun.

  “Don’t do that. You won’t have time to draw.”

  Without warning one of Marshal’s men shot Mr. O’Brien, hitting him in the arm. O’Brien yelled and grasped his arm as he dropped to the ground. The men with Marshal ducked behind trees and ranch equipment and started shooting. Daniel and his comrades ran and dove into hiding places. Mr. O’Brien managed to scramble into the barn. The two camps exchanged fire.

  Rebecca dropped down below the window and pulled her legs in close to her body, pressing her back against the wall. When the explosions of guns stopped, she inched up and looked out the window. Three of Marshal’s men lay in the dirt. She wondered how many of Daniel’s friends had fallen.

  Her attention was drawn to a swirling ball of dust moving toward them. It was Callie and the whole mob of roustabouts and drovers. “Willa, look! They’ve come!”

  “Praise be.”

  Rebecca could see Marshal crouching behind a gum tree very near the house. She placed him in her sights and gently put pressure on the trigger—she could shoot him if she liked. Her heart jumped, and she continued to study him through her sights. Could she actually do it? He deserved it after all he’d done to her family.

  Rebecca caught a movement just behind Marshal. It was Woodman. He was moving up on the man. “Lord, make him invisible,” she prayed.

  “You’re outnumbered two to one,” Daniel called. “No reason to fight this out. I’m asking you to be on your way.”

  “When hell freezes over!”

  “Don’t think we’ll have ta wait that long,” Woodman said, pressing the barrel of his rifle against the back of Marshal’s head.

  Rebecca lowered her rifle and leaned forward, her eyes riveted on the rifle at Marshal’s head. There was no need for her to do any killing.

  “Tell yer blokes ta put down their guns,” Woodman said.

  Marshal hesitated.

  Woodman pressed harder.

  “Drop your guns,” Marshal called, his voice quaking. “Do it! He’ll kill me.”

  One gun at a time dropped in the dirt until all the bushrangers stood powerless.

  “All roight. Let’s walk, then, eh?” Woodman prodded Marshal with the gun. They moved into the center of the yard. Using the rifle, Woodman shoved the man into the dirt, and instead of lowering his gun, he stood over Marshal and glared at him. “Ya killed a friend of mine, hanged him. And ya hurt people I care ’bout. I ought ta kill ya. Lay ya down right where ya are.”

  Moments passed. “Please, no,” Rebecca whispered.

  Finally Daniel walked up to Marshal. “Get up.”

  Sweat soaked Marshal’s shirt and dribbled down his face. He stood slowly, looking from side to side.

  Daniel pressed a bank note into the man’s shirt pocket. “That’s the last of what I owe you. I don’t ever want to see you ’round ’ere again.”

  Marshal stared at Daniel. Without his power he was nothing more than a second-rate crook.

  “Get on your horse and go back to Brisbane. Then take the next ship to America.”

  Marshal climbed onto his horse, and so did his men.

  “Take your dead and wounded with you,” Daniel said.

  Marshal nodded at Luke and Wade to load the bodies and help the injured. Luke bent to get his gun off the ground, and Daniel said, “Leave it.”

  Wearing a scowl, Luke headed toward Chavive.

  “You can leave her too. She belongs ’ere,” Daniel said.

  Luke stared at Daniel, then looked to Marshal. “She’s mine. I paid for her.”

  “Leave her,” Marshal growled. “Wade, give him a ride,” he snapped.

  Reluctantly Luke climbed on behind Wade.

  Daniel moved to Chavive and took hold of her bridle. Turning to Marshal, he said, “Be on your way.” He leveled a hard stare on Marshal. “You’ll do no more business with the people ’round ’ere.”

  Marshal used a handkerchief to wipe sweat from his face, then turned his horse and rode toward the drive. His men followed.

  Rebecca, Willa, and Cambria moved onto the porch and walked down the steps. Rebecca ran to Daniel and hugged him tightly. “I was so frightened. You were wonderful.”

  Chavive nudged her, and Rebecca turned to the mare and rested a hand on her face. “Hello, girl. Grand to have you home.”

  “I knew the Lord would find a way to get her here,” Willa said.

  Cambria tucked an arm into Jim’s and kissed his cheek. “Yer a good mate.”

  Jim pulled her closer. “A mate forever, eh?”

  Rebecca leaned against Daniel. “I was so proud of you.”

  “You did right fine, yourself.”

  “Callie, you were very brave to go and get the men,” Rebecca said. “Thank you.”

  Koora rested a hand on Callie’s shoulder. “She’s a fine one, eh?”

  “Yeah, well, this’ll be a lesson to me—never go looking for help under a rock.” Daniel bent and scooped up a handful of dirt. “The Lord’s given me another chance.” He sifted the soil through his fingers. “Douloo is the Lord’s, but as long as he wants me to, I’ll do my best to take care of her.”

  Rebecca reached out and caught some of the falling soil, then clasped Daniel’s hand and pressed the earth between their two palms. “We’ll watch over her together.”

  Bonnie Leon dabbled in writing for many years but never set it in a place of priority until an accident in 1991 left her unable to work. She is now the author of more than a dozen historical fiction novels, including The Heart of Thornton Creek, For the Love of the Land, and Journey of Eleven Moons. She also stays busy teaching women’s Bible studies, speaking, and teaching at writing seminars and conventions. Bonnie and her husband, Greg, live in Glide, Oregon. They have three grown children and four grandchildren. You can contact Bonnie at leon@rosenet.net.