Elden Calhoun rode to the gate of the homestead. He was early. He sat down at the gate at a sawn off stump, waiting for the sun to set. The stock of a carbine he had taken from a dead scalper along the way rested against his knee. He was holding his Remington, wiping it with a cloth. He set his shells on the stump then opened them and put beef tallow in the shells to hold the charge tight.

He looked up at the dying winter light. Then at the house. Smoke came from the chimney.

Tom Thurlow was inside and had seen Elden sitting out there. He stood at the window. His wife and children were behind him at the fire.

‘Stay where you are,’ he said to them. ‘Stay low and out of sight. And …’ – he had never believed in God – ‘and pray.’

Now Tom saw the figure at his gate mount a horse and lift the gate bolt with his boot and ride through. Elden Calhoun stood his horse in the blue dusk in front of the house. He cried out,

‘Joe Rhine!’

No answer.

‘Joe Rhine! I know you’re here, Joe. I have a message for you from Jim.’

Ada Thurlow knelt by the window and held all three of her children tight into her chest. Tom Thurlow put a revolver in his belt at his back, out of view, and walked to the door. Before he opened it he turned to his wife.

‘You don’t go out there. No matter what he says. No matter what happens. You all stay here!’ He pointed to the gun rack. ‘The Winchester is loaded. If he kills me and comes in have it ready and shoot him at the door.’

‘Tom!’

He put his fingers to his lips. He closed his eyes.

Dear God, I’ve never much spoken to you before but help me now. Go with me now and don’t let him hurt them. Dear God, from here on in I’ll believe in you and be a better man to them all, but protect this house.

He opened the door and stepped onto the veranda. Elden had the sawn-off Remington across his lap and was shouting at the walls for Joe Rhine. Now he stopped.

‘Hello, Tom.’

‘Joe Rhine isn’t here, Elden.’

‘He’s your sister’s cousin, isn’t he?’

‘You know he is. But he isn’t here. No one is. I’m alone.’

Tom looked around and saw half his eldest daughter’s face in the window, lit by the light that came from the coals in the fireplace. He winced. He turned back to Elden Calhoun.

‘That’s funny,’ said Elden. ‘Cause I followed a man’s tracks to here. One man on a horse. Coming from the west like me and riding like he was pursued.’

‘I don’t know who you followed.’

‘I do.’

‘He isn’t here.’

‘Then where?’

‘I don’t know. But I can pass on a message if you want.’

Elden leant on the pommel of his saddle and nodded. He looked over Tom’s shoulder.

Tom prayed to God his daughter had gone from the window. He thought, God, don’t let him see in there.

‘Aye,’ said Elden. ‘A message. You see, there’s a bounty on our heads and–’

‘I didn’t know that. And I don’t care. I’ve always been a friend to you boys.’

Elden stared at Tom and spoke on.

‘… and I wanted to impress upon Joe what a bad idea it would be if he were to tell anyone about our whereabouts and plans. See, he left in a hurry. Jim never really got the chance to explain these things to him.’

There was a bang of something hitting wood inside.

Elden raised his shotgun and pointed it at Thurlow’s head.

‘Alone, huh?’

Tom Thurlow said nothing.

Elden grinned.

‘You’ve got bloody big mice.’

He let the double barrels rest on his left forearm. He shouted at the dark window.

‘Come out now or I shoot him!’

There was a scuffling behind the door. Then muffled voices. Then quiet.

Elden pulled back the Remington’s hammers. One then the other.

‘Come out now or I shoot him dead where he stands.’

He stiffened his forearm. Put his eye in the sight.

Then the door burst open and Tom Thurlow’s twelve-year old girl flew to her father’s waist and held it and fell onto her knees crying and screaming not to shoot.

Elden lowered his gun.

‘Hello, girl.’

She turned her face and opened her mouth. She wanted to tell the man on the horse to ride away, but no words came.

‘Stand up, girl.’

She did not move. Could not move.

‘Stand her up, Tom.’

Tom Thurlow picked his daughter up under her arms. She was limp. He whispered in her ear.

‘Don’t show him you’re scared. Be strong, little one.’

Her legs stiffened and she stood and turned to Elden Calhoun.

‘I’m not scared a you, you hateful cunt!’

Her father pulled her in to him and swore under his breath and thought,

God no, child. Not so much as that.

Elden sneered.

‘Well.’

Tom mumbled a prayer.

‘Well,’ Elden said again. ‘Well fuck me!’

He got off his horse. The girl’s eyes were closed again but she heard his spurs chinging in the dark as he walked towards them.

Tom put his hand on his hip, in striking distance of the gun in his belt at his back, and thought, If I draw and I don’t hit him first … If he shoots me down, then they’re here alone with him – an animal fresh from the kill. His hand trembled.

Another chinging footfall.

‘You hurt her and I’ll kill you, boy.’

Elden stopped. He tilted his head and squinted into the dark at the girl.

‘Ten years old? Eleven? Answer me, child!’

She looked up.

‘Twelve.’

‘Still. Not too big for me to throw you across my saddle. Have use of you on the ride home.’

‘You’ll have to shoot me if you think you’re gonna touch her.’

Elden eased back the hammers and flipped his shotgun and caught the barrel.

‘If you think I’m not worthy of her, then perhaps I’ll just crack the little bitch’s head open with this. Now come here, girl. Come here or I’ll kill your dad in front of you.’

Tom had her by the collar of her nightdress but she pulled away from him.

She walked out to meet the man who threatened them. She stood in front of him with naked hatred in her eyes.

He took her dress at the throat and ripped it down so she stood topless in front of him in drawers. She tried to cover her nakedness with her arms.

‘You are a pretty thing. Maybe I’ll throw you on my horse after all. Or maybe I’ll mount you right here where your father can see.’

He picked the girl up.

‘Put her down.’

Elden stared at Tom. Then back at the girl.

‘Put her down, you son of a fucking whore.’

Elden saw Tom reach behind him for a gun and in that instant Elden dropped the girl and drew a pistol from his hip holster and shot the gun out of Tom Thurlow’s hand.

Tom fell bleeding to his knees, his right wrist in his left hand. He stared in shock at the two and a half fingers on the dirt in front of him. He heard the chinging spurs.

Tom looked up into eyes like stone.

Elden squatted.

‘Where is he?’

Tom was crying. Elden spat.

‘You tell me where he is or I mount your fucking girl and ride her into the dirt.’

He could feel his wife at the window. She’ll miss, he thought. If she shoots and misses … God, please please please keep her hidden.

‘A slab hut,’ he whispered. ‘About a mile west of here on the creek.’

Elden stood up and breathed the night air and looked at the stars and smiled. He mounted his horse and rode out the gate.

Tom stood. He could not close his right hand. He went to where his daughter was collecting the ripped piece of her dress and trying to cover herself. He put her between his forearm and his rib cage and pulled her up to his shoulder. They walked back into the house. His wife was at the window on her knees, shaking, the Winchester fallen beside her. ‘I nearly shot him. But I wasn’t …’ she cried. ‘I wasn’t sure of my aim. I was worried I’d … God, I wanted to kill him.’

‘He’s gone.’

But while she dressed her husband’s wounds she heard two gunshots and she stood up. Tom winced. He reached up and took her hand. ‘Maybe that was Joe’s gun. I didn’t know … I wasn’t … There’s nothing we can do.’

She fell down in her chair.