Chapter Forty-Five

Donovan joined Amalia in the kitchen and was astonished at what he saw. Tasha, taking him at his word about the raiders being after food, had loaded the table with whatever food was to hand: dried apples, half a pan of cornbread and even the pie that Carina had made on a wild impulse to celebrate who knew what. Before he could say anything, he saw horses outside the window and went to take a look. Three of the men were dismounting, while the fourth remained outside to keep an eye on things. They had some experience raiding, if they knew enough to post a lookout.

When they burst through the door and stomped into the kitchen, Donovan reconsidered. These were just teenagers, dressed in the latest raider fashion of whatever rich attire they could find, no matter how inconvenient or inappropriate. One was in dusty blue jeans embellished with velvet and leather patches. His red shirt was of some kind of shiny material and he wore a tooled leather vest trimmed in silver. The second raider was more subdued and wore what looked like a faded military dress uniform. The third was dressed improbably in a gray business suit. They all wore gold earrings and numerous gold chains, but they were young. This could mean they would be ruthless, but it might also mean they could be tricked.

Amalia stepped forward to meet the men as they tramped into the kitchen in their ill-fitting boots. "Gentlemen, you could've knocked."

"We don't knock," the one in the leather vest said. He looked around the room, scanning it for valuables. His gaze fell upon the table.

"We thought you'd be hungry after such a long ride," Amalia said. "There's no other places to stop for miles in the direction you came from. Please have a seat. Would you like some wine? It's not very good, but..."

All three men cast longing looks at the table, but then the one in the vest came back to his senses. "Look lady," he waved a hand, then looked at Donovan. "You, too. We want money, whiskey, batteries, ammo, and anything else you've got." He sized up the room. "Are you going to make me an offer, or do we need to find what we want on our own?"

Amalia forced a smile. "I'm afraid we're very poor."

"That's what they all say. Have it your way." He motioned to the other two and they pushed past Amalia, Donovan and Tasha in a rush.

Amalia and Donovan's eyes met again and Donovan reached for his gun, but Amalia shook her head. Already they could hear the sounds of cabinets and closets opening, objects being tossed off shelves. "Just keep an eye on them," she whispered.

Donovan and Tasha followed her lead and watched as the raiders checked under sofa cushions, under rugs, behind chairs and inside chests and cabinets for anything that might be of value. They picked up pictures, checked the frames for precious metal, fiddled with the backings and dashed them onto the floor. They tossed away books and keepsakes. Amalia cringed as knives were brought out and cushions ripped open, the flocking probed and picked over, but she made no move to stop them, standing near the linen closet door.

The raider in the suit came out of the women's bedroom holding a handful of cheap costume jewelry that Amalia had left out in the hope they wouldn't seek more valuable items. "Can't you do better than this, lady?"

"I'm afraid not. We've been raided before.”

The man grumbled and shoved the items into his pocket. "Move."

"What?"

"I said move."

"Where?"

"I don't care where, just get the hell out of the way so I can see what you've got behind that door."

"It's just a linen closet. Do you need towels and blankets?"

The one in the leather vest walked over, unimpressed with his takings from the children's room. "You let us decide what we need. He shoved Amalia against the door.

Donovan jumped between them, still resisting the urge to grab for his weapon in spite of the man's repulsive behavior. "You don't need to push the lady."

"Obviously I do because she ain't out of the way yet." With a malevolent gleam in his eye, the man reached for his gun. "And if you don't both let us see what's behind that door..."

Amalia and Donovan were both reaching for their weapons when there was a sudden shriek and crash from the kitchen. It was deep and loud and seemed to go on and on with lots of smaller crashes behind it. "What the—" The man in the vest ran toward the kitchen, the other two at his heels.

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