Frank smiled faintly. "You know that unlike just about every other man in Smith County, I don't carry a gun." He pointed downward, in the direction of the press on the floor below them. "That's my way of fighting."
For a moment Auguste felt ashamed that he was running away from that same fight.
"Because you stood by me today my heart will always sing your praises. Do you think my father's spirit will be sad if I do not stay and fight for the land until I die?"
"You almost did die, Auguste," Nicole said.
And I might yet, before I get away from here.
He sipped the brandy. It burned his tongue and his throat and lit a fire in his belly. It made him feel stronger.
Frank said, "Nobody's saying you should stay. I don't want to see you killed."
Nicole said, "Neither would your father. Pierre wanted you to have the estate, but he didn't want you dead on account of it."
"Amen to that," said Frank.
Yes, Auguste thought, despising himself, but I think he expected me to keep the land for more than a day.