As the week wore on, the tension seemed to build. Hannah was edgy and anxious. Guthrie tried hard to do what she needed before she asked, until she finally told him, "Guthrie, I'm so sorry. You are being so helpful. And I'm . . ." She pulled him into a hug.
"Easy on the mush." He teased, pushing her away, but gently.
Twice, she burst into tears for no apparent reason. Once when Adam said, "Is there any pie left or did you eat it all?" and once when Brian said, "Something smells weird," which turned out to be Guthrie who had been playing in the creek.
"I'm sorry." Brian said surprised as Hannah went upstairs.
"No, it's not you. She's been . . . It's the stress, I guess." Adam replied, sighing heavily.
They all were extra careful, then. Wednesday dawned cold and stormy. Adam, Brain and Crane all left to check on the stock. Daniel, Evan and Ford were busy with afternoon chores, and Guthrie was looking after one of the lambs that had been sick. Izzy and Hannah were just about to start dinner when Izzy, who had been doing her homework on the front porch came running inside.
"Hey, slow down." Hannah said with a laugh, but seeing Izzy's face she became immediately alarmed. "What? What is it?"
"Hide!" Izzy said and she ran into the laundry room climbing under a bench.
Hannah turned and anxiously went out to the front room. She thought briefly of grabbing a rifle out of the gun safe, but decided against it. The front room was empty but then she heard it.
"Isabel! Isabel come on out. Daddy's here!" A chill went down Hannah's spine as she saw Peter stomping on unsteady feet up the front steps of the porch. She turned to grab a rifle, sorry now she hadn't already.
"Izzy, go get, Adam! Izzy!" She yelled towards the laundry room.
She was almost to the gun safe, when Peter pushed open the front door.
"Damn it!" Hannah thought. They almost never locked the front door.
"Well, well." Peter said, a shotgun pointed at Hannah. "Going somewhere? Move away from that safe. Where's my daughter?" He took a long swig from a bottle in his hand and threw it to the ground. As it shattered, Hannah jumped. Laughing, Peter said, "Scared! You ain't seen nothing yet! You ain't taking her from me!" He pushed the end of the shotgun against Hannah's shoulder. Hannah bit her lip willing herself not to cry. "Isabel!" He called out. "Isabel! Daddy's come to take you home!"
***7***
Guthrie felt something was wrong as soon as he came in through the kitchen. Something was burning, which almost never happened anymore. He shut off the stove suprised. Before Hannah came, something burning on the stove just meant it was about time to eat. Ford came in just behind him.
"I cut my stupid finger." Ford said, but looking at Guthrie's face he stopped. They moved silently around the corner. Something sounded wrong.
"What do you mean she's out! Don't lie to me! Go get my daughter!"
Guthrie's eyes widened in surprise. He grabbed Ford's arm pulling him back into the kitchen.
"Go get help!" Guthrie said. Ford turned and slid out the back door and Guthrie watched him run full speed to the barn.
Guthrie turned. He wanted to get a gun out of the gun safe, but didn't think he could do so without being seen. He slid along the floor, underneath the table. Lying flat, he looked across the room, and could see a pair of green eyes staring at him from under a bench in the laundry room. Izzy. He put a finger to his lips and watched her eyes brighten with tears. He lay flat just in front of the gun safe, waiting and listening. He could see the side of Hannah's boots.
Move! Lead him into the front room. He willed toward his sister-in-law.
"I . . . listen, why don't you calm down. She's out near the barn. We'll go get her, okay?" Hannah's voice sounded shaky and unfamiliar.
She was afraid.
"What so your husband or one of his idiot brothers can thump me on the head? You stupid cow." Guthrie heard the sound of the slap, but he felt the blow, as though he himself had been hit. A fiery anger was building.
He watched her feet as she took a step back, no doubt staggering from the blow.
"No." She said her voice teary. "They won't hurt you if you've got that shotgun on me."
"I ain't stupid!" He hollered and he slapped her again. Guthrie bit his lip and tasted blood. Looking up he saw a shuffling of feet. Their voices were quieter. He had moved her to the front room. He rose slowly, silently, and opening the door quietly, pulled out a shotgun.
Loading it carefully, just as he had been taught by Brian, he turned back to where Izzy hid.
"Go on, Izzy! Go find someone! Tell them he's got a gun. Tell them he's got Hannah! Go!" She slid out from where she had hidden.
"No Guthrie, you run too! He'll kill you! No!" Her whole body shook with fear.
"Go, Izzy! Find Crane! Find Adam! Go!" He pushed her towards the door and crying she ran, stumbling down the back steps.
"Call to her! Tell her to come inside!" Peter said angryily, staggaring and slurring his words.
"No!" Hannah said defiant. He held her by her arm and shook her.
"I'm not going to be patient long! Call her!"
"No!" Hannah repeated. Guthrie watched as he pulled his arm back and slammed his fist into Hannah's face, she staggered and this time fell, hitting her knee on the coffee table as she landed on the couch.
"Get your goddamn hands off her!" Guthrie said his voice sharp. He lifted the shotgun and kept it level, aimed at Peter's chest.
Peter spun and seeing Guthrie, he laughed. "This one of the brats? Drop the gun little boy!" He lifted his gun and aimed it at Guthrie.
"Drop it or she'll get to watch you fall."
"You, get out of our house." Guthrie said firmly.
"Guthrie, put it down. Do as he says. Set it down, Guthrie." Hannah said her voice trembled and she rose.
"He hit you." Guthrie said angrily.
"I'm alright." She said and she took a step towards Guthrie, limping. "I'm alright, Guthrie."
He turned to look at her, and as he gazed on her already bruising and bleeding face, Peter hit him on the side of the head with his gun. Guthrie staggered back, but didn't fall. The shotgun slipped from his hands, but not before it fired.