Mountain War: Defending Their Home (Mountain Man Book 4)

by Nathan Jones

  “Sure thing,” Mer replied, taking the toddler back. “Is there a problem?”

  “Just some stuff to straighten out. Thanks.” He left her behind and headed to the corral. “Jenny, mind if I borrow my son for a second?” The young woman shrugged, busy brushing Mary's coat.

  As for Skyler, he hunched his shoulders sullenly as Tom led him towards the nearby grove of aspen trees, already guessing what this was about. “Listen, Trapper,” he began. “Just after a scare is a bad time to make decis-”

  “Your mom and I talked it over,” Tom interrupted firmly. “You're confined to the valley. No more scouting, no more training anywhere outside it, no more hunting or trapping or logging or foraging.”

  Skyler stared at him, stunned. “That-that's insane! I get Mom's probably freaked, but that's not even reasonable. Even kids can leave the valley to hunt for insects, at least to the nearby slopes where the far scouts have made sure no Sangue's anywhere for miles.”

  “Even so, that's the decision we've made.”

  “Well it's a stupid decision!” his son snapped back, fuming. “You saw how useful I can be out there! Just because she can't accept I'm not a kid and wants to keep me-”

  “It's not just your mother,” Tom told him gently. “I could ignore how much danger I was putting you in when we seemed in control of the situation, easily able to win fights. I can't ignore it any more, and I won't send you into danger again. Sangue's too big a threat to take chances with.”

  “B-but the fight we just lost!” the teenager stammered. “Bloodies coming at us from all directions, and we have fewer people to fight them than ever. You need me!”

  “Yeah, I need you,” he agreed, putting steel into the words. “I need you to stay alive, because I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you. I need you to be there for your mother, because she's going to have this baby any day now and worrying over you is risking serious health concerns.” Skyler had bristled as he spoke, and he raised his voice slightly. “I need you to stop being selfish and do your duty for this family. You want me to accept you're a man? Then start acting like one.”

  “What if I think my duty's to protect my family, same as yours?” his son demanded. “At what point do you recognize I'm old enough to decide things for myself?”

  Tom bit back a flippant remark about adulthood being a good start, keeping his expression serious as he rested a hand on the teenager's shoulder. “Not anytime soon, Skyler. You may not like it, but it's the way it is. From now on you don't leave this valley. If any volunteer catches you trying to follow them or wandering around out there, we'll truss you up and bring you home where you belong.”

  Skyler shook free, more resentful than he'd ever seen him. “I can't believe you'd do this to me. I thought I've proved myself.”

  “You have, you know that. But that's not what this is about.” His son looked away. “Please, son, for your mother if not me. Don't do this to her.”

  “Mom would insist on me hiding and staying safe even if Sangue was beating down the door for us,” the teenager snapped. His mouth worked as if he wanted to say more, then he turned and stormed away. Although not in the direction of the summer retreat.

  Tom stared after his son, who as he could've predicted was headed for Sulk Point. Probably not a great sign about Skyler's mood, that he was on his way up there for the first time in a good long while. Well, better that he was sulking than that he was secretly packing his bags and heading out to do something crazy.

  Sighing, he turned back to the house. Time to head inside and talk to Kristy, see if this settled things or if he'd be setting up his tent to sleep outside tonight.

  * * * * *

  Amazingly enough, after Tom's fears of disaster descending on Camptown following the failed ambush, things actually stayed fairly quiet.

  The few remaining far scouts Mitchells hadn't pulled back for his rescue party returned to report that there was no sign of Sangue approaching from any direction. And when he sent out a dozen more to do a more thorough sweep, the ones who came back for quick preliminary reports also confirmed no enemy activity.

  In fact, the biggest source of concern at the moment, aside from how handily the bloodies had thrashed them in the last fight, was that Brandon's team hadn't returned from Highway 29 yet. Tom tried to reassure himself that it was a ways to travel, and his friend might have needed to take time to set up something, especially with the enemy closely watching the road.

  It still bothered him, although it worried others more; Kristy spent a lot of her time with Fiona and little Thomas, offering what encouragement she could to the fragile woman that her husband would be home soon.

  After holding a painful but cathartic memorial service for their dead, none of which they'd been able to recover, Tom spent the next couple days training the volunteers hard in marksmanship. Under the circumstances, he put a special emphasis on shooting around the ubiquitous Sangue body armor and helmets.

  He put mockups of both on targets and had his people shoot at them from extreme ranges, encouraging them to repeat the process until they could consistently hit a vital area around the armor. The volunteers were grim and determined now, and while they'd lost people more had joined up as the threat became more real to everyone.

  A few more, at least. Enough to balance out those who deserted with the realization that it wouldn't be all easy ambushes and victors' spoils.

  Normally he would've had Skyler helping him train, especially since the teenager needed something to keep him occupied from his resentment at being benched. But he'd decided his son could use a bit more responsibility out from under his shadow, so he'd set him, Logan, and Teddy to training the fifty or so last resort defenders Mitchells had scraped together to man the fortifications around the valley itself.

  Or woman, for the most part; a surprising number of those who took the sheriff up on his request were women who'd wanted to help out but, because of concerns about leaving behind young children or older family members that needed caring for, hadn't felt comfortable joining the volunteers. In fact, even Fiona joined the defenders, possibly with Kristy's encouragement as a way to distract herself from her fears about Brandon's continued absence. His wife even volunteered to watch baby Thomas while Fiona was training, with the help of some of the women Skyler had rescued. Although a few more of them joined the defenders as well, inspired by Jenny and Mer.

  Skyler took to the task of teaching with a distracted, mechanical lethargy that worried Tom. There was none of the enthusiasm his son normally showed for that sort of thing, in spite of the fact that the defenders were generally attentive and respectful with him. Even learning that his friend Tabby was one of those who signed up didn't do much to brighten his demeanor.

  Then again, there were a lot of downcast eyes and heavy feet in Camptown following the failed ambush. They needed a win to perk them back up, but Tom dreaded that the next threat they'd have to face might prove equally disastrous and crush their spirits entirely, or even leave the bowl valley undefended to their enemies.

  Thankfully, a win arrived in the form of Brandon's team, late in the afternoon on the second day after Tom and the other volunteers returned to Camptown. The men were weary but triumphant about their accomplishments, a celebratory mood that quickly spread through the entire valley at the news of them not only taking out the highway, but an enemy patrol to boot.

  Tom could hardly believe his friend had been so wildly successful, a success that had very likely saved the lives of him and the other volunteers, by encouraging the Sangue squad pursuing them to fall back to guard the highway. The five men deserved a heroes' welcome, and the town desperately needed to give it to them to help wash away the sting of their earlier defeat.

  Although some of that jubilation faded to dismay at the news that Brandon's group were the only ones who'd returned.

  “What do you mean, Stewart and the others aren't back yet?” the young man demanded, stepping away from hugging his wife and son to face off
with Tom. “They were supposed to head straight here, and even loaded down with stuff it shouldn't have taken this long!”

  Tom's heart sank. He'd wanted to comment on the three missing men, but he'd hoped to wait until after they'd had a chance to celebrate first. “We haven't had any word of them from our scouts,” he said quietly.

  “The dogs, Brandon,” Andy said, looking sick. “It doesn't matter how obvious a trail we left, if the bloodies started using the dogs right at the destroyed mules they would've sniffed them out.”

  “Wait, Sangue has dogs?” Logan demanded, alarmed. “How are we supposed to stay ahead of them if they can track us?”

  “By shooting the dogs and running even faster, like we did,” his brother-in-law replied distractedly. He turned back to Tom, expression urgent. “Is it possible your scouts missed them? Maybe they didn't make a fuss about returning?”

  Tom wanted to reassure his friend, but he could only shake his head grimly. Andy put a hand on the young man's shoulder. “Stewart was injured,” he said quietly. “They might not have even known they were being tracked until it was too late.”

  Brandon shook off his friend's hand, tears in his eyes. “I thought I was sending them home while we took the risks,” he whispered. “Instead I ditched them to an enemy out for blood. They were probably in the middle of digging the cache when they got caught . . . I might as well have left them behind as bait to buy us more time.”

  Clearing his throat sternly, Tom pulled the young man aside with a firm arm around his shoulders. “Don't think like that,” he said fiercely. “And certainly don't talk like that. You made the best decision you could at the time, and nobody can blame you for what you couldn't anticipate.”

  His friend just shook his head, not wanting to be comforted, and Tom lowered his tone even more. “I know how you feel, Brandon. I set up what I thought was the perfect ambush, and Sangue walked right through it and killed over a third of us. How can I not blame myself for that failure?”

  Brandon flinched, face paling even more. “What? What happened while I was gone?” He clutched Tom's arm frantically. “Is the valley still safe?”

  “It is,” he assured him. “The soldiers chasing us broke off suddenly, probably because of the ruckus you caused at the highway.”

  “But we've lost even more good people now.” The young man abruptly sagged as if someone had let all the air out of him, carefully easing out from under Tom's arm. “I'm beat, Trapper. Completely tuckered out. I-I need to be with Fi and the baby right now, just ourselves for a bit.”

  “Of course.” Tom clapped him on the back, nudging him back towards the group. “Get some rest, Brandon. And good job up there.”

  His friend just shook his head as he quietly gathered up his family and headed back to their home at the retreat.

  * * * * *

  Fiona had been unusually affectionate last night.

  That is, his wife was generally plenty affectionate; she never passed up an opportunity to cuddle, or a chance to hold his hand or give him a hug or a kiss. And in private she was usually eager to show her love in other ways; they were still newlyweds, after all.

  But she hadn't been this, um, enthusiastic since those first weeks after the wedding. Not that Brandon was complaining, of course. Especially since she'd needed time to recover after baby Thomas's birth, and while the intimacy hadn't exactly dried up it had certainly taken a hiatus.

  And he was definitely happy to see her, too, after being gone for so long and with the danger he'd faced. Being in the arms of the woman he loved had helped him accept that he'd well and truly returned home safely. It had even helped soothe some of the grief and guilt over losing the men who hadn't made it back.

  But much as he'd enjoyed the night they'd just spent together, really, really enjoyed it, it hadn't escaped his notice that there'd been an undertone of urgency, perhaps even desperation, to Fiona's intimacy.

  Although it was hard to remember that at the moment, looking at his wife's achingly beautiful features so soft and peaceful in sleep as she lay beside him. Usually seeing her in moments like this, unburdened and serene, lifted the weight in his own heart and filled him with a deep contentment.

  But it was impossible to forget the way she'd clung to him last night, reluctant to even let him go for water or to check on Thomas sleeping in his crib. Insisting on the constant reassurance of his touch in a . . . it seemed shallow and callous to call it neediness, even though there was certainly a deep need there.

  One he hadn't seen from her in years.

  And even now, Fiona was cuddled up so close she'd practically climbed on top of him. He knew there was a lot of fear in her, and perfectly justifiably so; it had taken her a long time to recover from what Sangue had done to her. A long time for her to mentally and emotionally heal from it, to reach the point where she could accept that being intimate with a man she loved and trusted without reliving the horrors of the past was not only possible, but was something that could bring them both more healing and joy together.

  And then, just when it seemed like they were finally moving forward, that they could still have love, and children, and a real life, even after the horror of Newpost, the bloodies had come back to torment them.

  Fiona was deathly afraid they'd come to the valley. Afraid Brandon would die fighting them. Afraid the vicious animals would hurt her newborn baby. And afraid that they'd get their hands on her again, but this time she'd never escape the lifetime of hell she would suffer in their clutches.

  Brandon wanted nothing more than to ease her fears, but how could he when they were valid? His reassurances felt hollow, almost deceitful, as he promised she'd be perfectly safe. He knew that there was only so much he could do; Sangue was like some vast force looming over them, weighing them down and smothering them with its existence even when its soldiers were nowhere near.

  It was why he fought, but at the same time it broke his heart to think of leaving his wife to face her demons without him. At least Mother Kristy was here for her, and now the women Skyler had rescued. But he knew there was no substitute for his own presence.

  Although that was the sacrifice, wasn't it? To leave the woman he loved behind with her fears, perhaps forever if the unthinkable should happen and he never returned, so that he could fight to make sure those fears were never realized.

  So as he lay holding her close, watching her sleep and wanting nothing more than that every waking moment of her life could be so peaceful and free of care, he came to the resolve that it wasn't enough to simply go out and chase off the bloodies every time they came sniffing around Camptown.

  He needed to make sure they never got close enough to need to be chased off.

  When Fiona finally stirred, brilliant green eyes fluttering open to find him awake and watching her, her face lit up with a love to take his breath away. “Morning,” he told her, leaning down to kiss her forehead; the angle was awkward to reach her lips.

  His wife made a contended noise and nuzzled his neck. “Eager to pick up where we left off?” she murmured teasingly, shifting position in a way he very much took notice of.

  Well, now he definitely was.

  But he couldn't let himself get distracted, afraid his resolve would weaken if he didn't discuss this with her now. “I think I need to do more when it comes to fighting the bloodies,” he said quietly.

  He felt how she immediately tensed, and her expression soured. “Way to spoil the mood,” she groused, grumpily burying her face in his neck again.

  He ran his fingers apologetically through her honey blond hair. “I need to be out there, making sure they don't come anywhere near you and baby Thomas. It'll probably mean I'll have to be gone a lot of the time, though.”

  Fiona was slow to respond, to the point where he felt the urge to keep explaining. Before he could she spoke in a small voice. “Does it have to be you?”

  Brandon moved his hand down to between her shoulders, massaging the tension he found there. “I think it does.
Not many folks have the experience in these mountains I do.”

  She made a disgruntled noise and he could imagine the face she was making, too full of deep emotion to be called pouting but hard to call it anything else. “Let me rephrase that . . . why does it have to be you?”

  That seemed like the same question to him, although it was probably a bad idea to say so. “Because it has to be someone, and there's no one else willing and able.” He wrapped his arms tighter around her. “I can't let them get close to you again, Fi. Even if I have to be out there hunting them like the rabid dogs they are.”

  His wife finally raised her head to look at him, brow furrowed with worried resignation. “We should've gone with the Hendricksons.”

  Brandon sighed. “Maybe. No sense regretting our decision now, though.”

  “I guess not.” She leaned up to press her lips tenderly to his, brow smoothing. “I can't say I hate the idea of you out there keeping the animals away. As long as you swear you won't get close enough to get bit.”

  “I promise,” he said solemnly.

  Fiona's expression cleared, reflecting a sudden change of direction in her thoughts. Which she hinted at very clearly as she shifted position against him again, green eyes holding his intently. “In that case, we should make the most of the time we have together.”

  Hard to argue that.

  * * * * *

  Brandon didn't show up for morning training.

  Between that, and the way he'd fled yesterday's bad news and secluded himself with his wife and son, Tom was half afraid his friend had decided to join the growing number of those who quit the volunteers. Especially with the way he'd been talking after the fight before leaving for Highway 29, about following the Hendricksons' example and getting while the getting was good.

  But to his surprise, it turned out the young man had just the opposite of quitting in mind. When his family showed up for lunch with the summer retreat group he looked relaxed, as if he'd made a decision, and after eating immediately accepted Tom's request to join him felling logs for more construction work.