Page 108 of The Unmaking of June Farrow

“Eamon, listen,” I said.

He wasn’t looking at me. His gaze traveled down the hallway, where Esther was unlocking a cabinet at the bottom of the stairs.

Through the window, I watched as the cars pulled into the drive too fast, slamming on their brakes, and then the doors were opening. I saw Caleb first. He was wearing his uniform again, his hat fixed on his head and his pistol at his hip. When the driver of the second car got out, I recognized Sam’s dark mustache.

I stood in the open doorway, my heart breaking into a sprint. He wasn’t here for Eamon. Caleb’s eyes were fixed on me.

The door to the cabinet opened behind me, and I froze when I saw Esther take a rifle from inside. In the next breath, she was handing it to Eamon.

“Don’t!” I tried to catch hold of him as he stalked outside, but he pulled free of me, going down the steps. “Eamon, don’t!”

Caleb and Sam both drew their guns the moment they saw him. Eamon had the rifle at his side, ready to raise it.

Sam’s hand lifted in the air. “Eamon, let’s just calm down now.”

“Get the hell out of here.” Eamon’s eyes were on Caleb.

But that smug look on Caleb’s face told me everything I needed to know. Somehow, he’d gotten what he needed, and now he’d come for me.

He pulled the handcuffs from his belt just as I heard Margaret’s voice behind us. “Annie!”

I turned. Annie was running up the fence toward us, Margaret chasing after her. I caught Annie in my arms, and when Caleb took a step in our direction, Eamon lifted his gun. In an instant, Sam and Caleb raised their pistols. Both were pointed at Eamon.

I turned my body, putting myself between Annie and the aim of the guns.

“Daddy?” Annie’s voice was bent. She stared at him over my shoulder.

I lifted a hand slowly, setting it on his arm. “Eamon.” I kept my voice even. “Stop.”

He didn’t look at me, every muscle in his body coiled so tight that the gun in his hands didn’t so much as shake.

My fingers curled around his wrist. “You pull that trigger, and she’s alone,” I whispered. “Do you understand?”

His chest rose and fell for several seconds before his grip loosened on the barrel.

“Put it down before one of them shoots you.”

After another breath, he listened. The barrel lowered, the butt ofthe gun still pressed to his shoulder, and Sam moved closer, placing himself in front of Eamon with his aim still trained at his chest.

Caleb’s eyes drifted to me. “Sam, get the kid so I can place Mrs. Stone under arrest.”

Sam holstered his gun, reluctantly moving toward us. Annie’s fingernails scratched around my neck as he reached to pull her from my arms. She screamed.

“June Stone, I am placing you under arrest for the murder of Nathaniel Rutherford,” Caleb began.

Sam tried to take hold of Annie again, and she wrapped her legs around me, hands tangling in my hair.

When she screamed again, Eamon’s fist flew through the air, catching Sam in the face with so much force that he went to his knees. He wrenched Sam up by the collar, throwing him back.

I ducked, tightening my arms around Annie, one hand holding the back of her head as she cried into me. The distinct click of metal was what made them stop swinging. From where I was crouched, I looked up over Annie’s hair to see Caleb with his gun drawn. Now it was pointed at me.

Eamon still had Sam by the shirt, and I could see him thinking it—wondering if he could get to Caleb before he pulled that trigger.

Margaret’s feet were moving slowly in my direction, and I peeled Annie off of me, handing her over before I stood.

“Mama!” She was looking at me now with wide, terrified eyes.

“It’s okay, baby.” I smiled through tears as Margaret carried her, still screaming, into the house.