No. There wasn’t time.
A large shadow loomed at the top of the stairs. Before he could demand that the shadow identify itself, a shot from below caught it in the back. It threw up its hands and fell backwards, tumbling down to the first floor like a rock down a fall.
“Wellers!” Gideon hollered.
“Right here,” said a voice from below. “That was close, eh? How are the ladies?”
Mary yelled, “We are just fine. Just fine, do you hear me, Dr. Wellers?”
“Gideon,” Wellers called, with a note of concern creeping into his voice. “It’s getting hot down here. ”
“I know. I’m about to put her upstairs. ”
“You aren’t putting me—”
Gideon grabbed Mary around the waist and threw her over his shoulder. “Ma’am, I do apologize, but you’re getting out of the way if I have to toss you up in that attic myself. ”
“I’d like to see you try!” she yelled, beating her fists on his back.
“You are watching me try,” he said, but when he reached the attic stairs, he collided with them, because he hadn’t been able to detect them in the dark. “Polly,” he called up. “You there?”
“Yes, Dr. Bardsley, sir. ”
“Incoming,” he warned, and climbed up just far enough to push the wriggling Mrs. Lincoln up into the overhead space. Then he jumped down, grabbed the edge of the steps with his fingertips, and flung the door back up into place. Polly said something through the ceiling, but he didn’t catch it, and he didn’t have time to ask her to repeat it.
He banged his leg on an old sideboard, no doubt a priceless antique, then dragged the thing away from the wall to leave it blocking the top of the stairs. Wouldn’t stop anyone, he knew, but it’d make a lot of noise and surprise the hell out of someone who happened onto it. Might even trip a body up. Maybe they’d get lucky and some damn fool would fall down and break his neck.
Gideon was of the very firm opinion that when men want to kill you, there’s no such thing as fighting dirty.
Back down on the first floor, things were not improving.
He ran into Wellers, still lingering at the bottom of the stairs, his back to them—his gun aiming first at the front door, and then the west corridor, while Grant held down the spot at the front windows. Lincoln rolled out from the library, briefly confusing Gideon, who had last seen him leaving it.
Wellers explained before he could ask: “We’ve barricaded the east wing with a pair of cabinets. I couldn’t have moved them on my own, but that chair of his is tougher than it looks. I didn’t realize we’d given him something with so much towing power. ”
“I’d forgotten. Never thought he’d use it. ”
“Now he’s running ammunition back and forth, but we’ll be out of everything before long. ”
“At this rate, sooner than you think,” Lincoln said, delivering a box that looked frightfully empty. “This is the last of it. Where’s Mary? And Polly?”
“They’re stowed in the attic. They ought to be safe, so long as they stay quiet. They were out of bullets. ” Lincoln gave Gideon a quiet stare he couldn’t quite read in the darkness of the foyer, even by the light of the last of the parlor embers. So he added, “It was the best I could do, sir. Considering. ”
“Considering, yes. Let us pray it’s enough. Though if we’re relying on Mary to stay quiet…”
From his position at the front of the house, Grant hissed, “They can’t have too many men left. I saw three go scampering into the trees like frightened rabbits, and we’ve killed more than a handful. They’ve stopped making requests and demands, and now they’re only sneaking. We’ve held the fort, men. ”
“But how much longer can we hold it?”
“The rest of the night?” the president guessed. “Listen, do you hear that? They’ve stopped shooting. ”
He was right, but no one relaxed. They clustered together, three men standing and one sitting, listening for the next wave of peril.
“This is your last chance!” cried someone outside. “Give us Nelson Wellers and the negro, or we’re coming inside!”
Gideon scowled, partly because they’d figured out he was present, and partly because they hadn’t even bothered with his name.
Grant shouted in return, “No, it’s your last chance! You’ve already tried to come inside, and what’s it got you? Half a dozen dead men and nowhere!”