She saw Elysee and Guichard emerge from behind the inn. The two old men moved slowly, Elysee limping heavily, both walking backward. Guichard fired a shot at the six or more crouching Indians coming at them. Elysee, his walking stick in his left hand, raised his pistol. Guichard worked quickly with powder horn and ramrod to load his rifle. Elysee fired, bringing down one of the Indians. Both men took a few steps backward as powder smoke enveloped their attackers. The Indians darted forward, and Guichard raised his rifle. The Indians hesitated. Elysee stepped behind Guichard and tucked his stick under one arm to reload his pistol. At a word from Elysee, Guichard fired, and a red man with a rifle crumpled. Guichard, reaching for his powder horn, stepped backward behind Elysee, who now kept the Indians covered. Nicole felt her legs tremble and a lump form in her throat as she watched the fearless precision with which her father and his lifelong servant carried out their retreat. Those two old men shouldn't have to fight at all, but today every man was needed. She saw Frank and her two oldest sons, Tom and Ben, running across the yard to the front door. They vanished under the overhang of the blockhouse's second story, made of logs. Thank God they'd made it to safety! She felt faint and took a deep breath. She handed her rifle to Bernadette. "Here, you shoot. I've got to see my husband and sons." "Merci, madame. I thought you'd never give me a turn." By the time Nicole got downstairs, Frank and the other men had crowded into the hall. The heavy front door of the blockhouse was shut and barred, throwing the stone-walled lower floor into near-darkness. Two men were shooting through the rifle ports on either side of the door. Women were lighting oil lamps and candles and setting them on shelves around the edges of the room. Women whose men were here were holding them tight. Nicole threw her arms around Frank, then opened them wider to take in Tom and Ben as they ran to join their mother and father. She eyed the boys. Their faces were rosy and their eyes bright with excitement. They'd be men in another year or two. And after today, she thought, Frank would have a hard time keeping them away from rifles. _If we live through this day._ As she felt Frank strong and alive against her, a sudden intense desire to make love to him came over her. She was shocked at herself. But she'd seen one man struck down already and knew that before sundown she or Frank might be dead. The realization of how precious Frank was to her had brought her body to passionate life. She heard the shrieks and yips of the Indians in the yard of the trading post. Hard-eyed David Cooper said, "We can't hold 'em off just shooting from the ground floor. We need shooters at every rifle port upstairs." He nodded approvingly when he saw Elfrida Wegner and three other women molding bullets by the fire they had just kindled.