"Yes, Frank, there is definitely something more you need to learn," Allison said before standing and disappearing back into the house. When she returned, she was [i]packin' heat[/i], as she had been when first they'd met during the previous night's shootout. "Every night, I walk the perimeter of the property..." 

She explained about her patrol and intruders and keeping the property secure. Frank had already wondered about this aspect of the ranch, knowing what he knew about the world beyond the estate. It was a violent and scary world out there, far worse than Allison was probably aware. 

She spoke about never having shot anyone until she'd done so saving his and Robert's life. "It's not an easy thing to do." 

"No, it isn't," Frank agreed. "I, um ... I've taken lives myself, to be honest. I mean, in the military, when I was overseas."

He could have told her more about his service but decided to save that for another day. He could have also told her about a short, monthlong stint with a Southern Montana militia, but he hoped [i]never[/i] to tell her that.

"I collected all of the weapons when I went back last night," she told before offering out Frank's own pistol, a Glock 9mm semiautomatic, saying, "I think this belongs to you."

He hesitated before reaching out to take it, not wanting to appear too eager to once again be armed. Allison told him, "It's loaded."

She explained about the additional clips inside, then talked about trusting her home and life to him. "You could shoot me in the back as I leave the porch ... and all of this would be yours. I don't believe you'll do that. So..."

She smiled to him, then headed down the steps to begin her patrol. Behind her, Frank looked the weapon over again, then stood and looked her direction. He stuffed the pistol in the small of his back, calling out, "I'll have the dishes done by the time you get back ... Boss."

She didn't look back at him, only giving him a wave. And a moment later, she'd disappeared into the ditch that gave her a more concealed route down the slight incline to the forest. Frank took out the gun again, checking the clip and looking to see if there was one [i]up the pipe[/i] which there wasn't. He jacked a round into the chamber and again slipped the gun into his belt.

"Time to head inside, Little Bit," he told Robert. Getting late, getting cold ... getting to be skeeter time, too."

He collected the kid, took him to the highchair that Allison had also found in the [i]baby corner[/i] of the cellar, and returned to the porch to fold up and bring in the playpen. Inside, he did the dishes as he promised, cleaned the counters, and returned to the out of doors again to secure the BBQ pit and utensils. 

He was inside laying on the couch with the gently fussing Robert between him and the back of the sofa, passed out after his long day of work when Allison returned from her tour.