Michelle rolled her eyes. Jealous? Joe wasn’t jealous. He was annoyed. Ever since she asked if she could help him with the lookout, he’d been annoyed with her. He found her to be nothing but a nuisance. She bet he was counting down the days to when she’d be in California. Then he could get rid of her.
“Can I help with anything?” Michelle finally asked.
“You won’t find it nearly as exciting as shooting a gun,” Henrietta began with a twinkle in her eye, “but you can help us make biscuits.”
Her friend was right. It wasn’t fun. When Michelle first learned how to cook, she thought it would be a pleasant activity, but it had quickly bored her. The same old recipes she had to use over and over only made it worse. Maybe if there was a better variety of foods, then she would have found this more interesting.
But as it was, her mind often wandered to what the men were doing, especially Joe and Brandon who seemed to be having all the fun. Reminding herself she’d get to learn to shoot a gun tomorrow, she settled beside Henrietta and started to cut the dough into biscuits.
Chapter 10
The next day after Joe made sure everyone was settled for the evening, he went over to the Taylors’ wagon, surprised Michelle hadn’t already dragged him out to the field so he’d start teaching her how to shoot. Never in his entire life had he met anyone so stubborn.
Why couldn’t she be happy doing things a woman should be doing? Were the general tasks of taking care of the meals and cleaning up around the camp that boring? The other women seemed to manage it just fine. None of them were pestering him or the other men about learning how to shoot a gun.
Nope. It was only Michelle who was complaining that she needed more to do. The real shame in the whole thing was that Brandon wasn’t the one who was striving to do more. He was the very person who should have been eager to pitch in to help since he had been hired to do the job. But Joe had been the one to make sure everyone had what they needed while Brandon was mostly nowhere to be found.
Thinking of Brandon, he scanned the camp. Now that there was no more work to be done, he had no trouble finding him. At the moment, Brandon was sitting away from the group, seeming to be staring at the sky. Joe sighed. For now, he’d let the matter go. But tonight, he was going to have to remind Brandon that he wasn’t getting paid to sit around and do nothing.
Turning his attention to Michelle, Joe found her heading in his direction. So she had gotten impatient after all.
He walked over to meet her. She didn’t look quite so much like Amanda on this particular day. Well, she did in a way. The two had the same kind of hair and facial features, but Michelle had a determined look on her face that Amanda never had. And that made her look surprisingly different from the woman he had once hoped to marry.
“I suppose you still want to shoot a gun,” he said when he reached her.
“Of course, I do.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re not going to go back on your word, are you?”
“No. I’m going to teach you.”
She relaxed. “Good. I don’t care much for people who don’t keep their promises.”
“Who does?” Though he asked the question, he didn’t expect her to answer.
But she did with a, “I suppose no one does. A person likes to think they can trust what others say.”
It was hard to argue the logic, so he didn’t. Instead, he went over to the Taylor wagon. Noting that she was following right on his heels, he said, “Stay here. I need to borrow something from Danny.”
“His gun?” she guessed.
“No. I have my own guns. I don’t have something to shoot at. I’ll be right back.”
He took a few steps away from her then glanced over his shoulder. Good. She was staying put. He couldn’t be sure what she’d do.
When Joe found Danny, he was sorting through something inside the wagon. “Need some help?” Joe asked.
Danny glanced up from a trunk. “Henrietta said my extra boots are in here. I got a hole at the bottom of my sole.” He gestured to the boot on his right foot. “She was right. I should have gotten a new one before we left. That’ll teach me not to listen to a woman in the future.”
Yeah, well, that would depend on the woman. Joe got into the wagon and wiggled his way over to Danny. This was why he told people to pack things they might need during the journey near the front or back of the wagon. That way, it was easier to find them.
“Is there only one pair of boots in here?” Joe asked as he helped Danny sort through an assortment of hats, belts, and clothes.
“I think so,” Danny said.
“You think so?” Joe didn’t like the sound of that.
Danny shrugged. “We were all packing in such a hurry. It’s hard to remember where I put what.”
Joe hid his sigh so Danny wouldn’t hear it. As much as he didn’t want to agree with Henrietta who often said Danny didn’t take time to carefully think things through before he did them, he had to admit she had a point.
“Well,” Joe said as he sorted through the items in the trunk, “do you have something I can shoot at in here?”
“Wouldn’t it be better to shoot at something out there?” Danny teased, pointing outside the wagon.
“I need something for target practice. I have to teach Michelle how to shoot.”
“I can teach her.”
“I know you can, but it’s best if I do it.”
“Why? You’re busy taking care of people. I only got Ma and Henrietta to take care of, and they do fine without me most of the time.”
“Everyone’s settled in for the night. I have no other responsibilities.”
“Maybe you should take a break. Brandon’s always going off to take a break. Why don’t you take this opportunity to do the same? After all, you work harder than everyone else.”
Joe resisted the urge to groan. Why was Danny pushing the issue so hard? Did he really want to end up marrying Michelle once they reached California that badly?
“Look,” Joe began as he stopped sorting through the things in the trunk, “right now, Michelle is still my wife. Granted, it’s not permanent, but while we’re on the trail, it’s not a wise idea for you to run off with her. People will talk. You’d be surprised at how quickly rumors run through a group this small.”
Danny chuckled. “If you like your wife, then you can just say so.”
“I don’t like her. She doesn’t know the first thing about being a woman.”
“It doesn’t seem that way to me. She’s awfully pretty.”
He shot Danny a pointed look. “Being pretty has nothing to do with it. She wants to do everything a man does.”
“Like what?”
“Like shooting a gun.”
“What’s wrong with that? Women can shoot guns. Some even hunt from time to time.”
“That’s all well and good if there’s not a man around. But if a man is around, a woman should stay inside and cook the meat like she’s supposed to.”
“Why?” Danny asked. “She might be even better at it than he is. I know my sister thinks I’m the best shot there is, but the truth is I’m not. Don’t tell her I said that, though. I don’t want her to lose her admiration for her big brother.”
Joe gritted his teeth. Why was Danny pressing the issue? And worse—why was Joe allowing this nonsense to continue? “It doesn’t matter. I just need something to use for target practice. You got anything? Like an old piece of wood that you don’t need anymore?”
“Sure. Um, let’s see…”
As Danny turned his attention to sorting through items, Joe decided to resume his search for the man’s boots. They weren’t in the trunk. He closed it and rummaged through every nook and cranny he could find in the wagon. He had a hunch that Danny probably threw them somewhere while he was in a rush to load up the wagon. And he was right. Tucked into the far corner near the seat in the wagon was a pair of men’s boots.
“Is this what you’re looking for?” Joe called out as he raised them up fo
r Danny to see.
“Oh yeah! So they weren’t in the trunk?”
“No. They were by the seat.”
“Now I remember why I did that. I thought they’d be easier to get to that way.” He laughed. “Doesn’t that just beat all? The one place I thought for sure I’d remember was the place I forgot.”
“I suppose it is funny,” Joe replied. Maybe once they were done with this trail, he’d look back on this moment and chuckle. But it was hard to have a sense of humor when Michelle was yelling his name. “I’ll be there in a minute,” he called out.
“You ought to make it a game,” Danny told him. “If she misses the mark, she has to kiss you. If she makes the mark, then you can reward her with a kiss.”
“What kind of game is that? Either way, she gets a kiss.”
“Exactly. It’s the kind of game you get to win no matter what she does.”
Joe had to force back the urge to scowl at him. “Is that what you’d do if you were teaching her?”
He shrugged. “I hadn’t thought about it, but it’d be fun.” He smiled. “Unfortunately, every time she’s around, I have trouble talking. She makes me feel strange inside, like I’m excited and scared at the same time. I wouldn’t have the nerve to share kisses with her.”
“Good,” Joe muttered as Danny went back to looking under a pile of things protected under a blanket.
“You’ll take forever if I let you,” came Michelle’s annoyed voice. She popped up into the wagon, her gaze going right to Joe. “Sherry has an old tin tray that has worn out its use. She said we can use it.” Then, as if to prove she was telling him the truth, she showed it to him.
“Alright,” Joe replied, for once not minding her impatience. It was better than being stuck in here.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t find anything,” Danny said, directing his attention—and his smile—at her.
She returned his smile. “That’s fine, Danny. I know people took only what they needed. The only reason Sherry’s tray will work is because one of her children cracked it.”
“How did they do that?” Danny asked, probably feigning more interest in the topic than he actually had.
“Never mind,” Joe interrupted and scrambled to get out of the wagon. “The sun’s going to be setting soon. We don’t have much time to practice.”
Thankfully, that was all he needed to say to convince Michelle to stop talking—and smiling—at Danny. Maybe she thought of Danny as a brother, but Danny didn’t think of her as a sister. There was no sense in giving Danny any encouragement.
He would have warned her to watch how happy she seemed to be around Danny, just so she wouldn’t end up breaking Danny’s heart. But then, did she really need to know that Danny’s interest in her was more personal than she thought? She could wait until she got to California before her suitors lined up to court her.
Joe’s job was to get her there. He wasn’t a matchmaker. Her father hadn’t hired him to help her find a wealthy husband while on the trail. It was just his luck that Danny happened to have a father who struck it rich out West.
“What are you grumbling about?” Michelle asked as she followed him away from the wagon.
“I’m not grumbling,” Joe replied.
“Yes, you are. You’re groaning as if you’ve been asked to do a very unpleasant task. I know you don’t want to teach me how to shoot, but couldn’t you at least be pleasant about it? I might not have cared much for all the piano lessons my father made me take, but I didn’t voice a single complaint.”
“I thought you liked playing the piano.”
“I do, but I didn’t care for the lessons. I had to do the same songs over and over. It was boring.”
“I would never have guessed you found them boring by the way you played.”
She shrugged. “I know how to act gracious at all times. I just wish the same could be said about you.”
He glanced at her and noted the triumphant smile on her face. “You think you’re clever by pointing that out, don’t you?”
“Yes. And it’s what you get for grumbling. I’m only asking that you teach me a valuable skill. I might need it to survive in the wilderness.”
Good grief. “You’re not going to have to survive in the wilderness. You’ll be in California surrounded by servants who’ll do your every bidding.”
“I might decide to take a trip out into the great unknown someday.”
At this, he threw back his head and laughed. “You really think your rich husband who expects you to host dinner parties for his wealthy friends and business partners will let you run off into the great unknown?”
She frowned. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“No, of course not. People don’t often think beyond the actual trail ride. Most have no idea what’s even waiting for them.”
He found a tree, and they headed over to it. They were out a little further from the camp than he would have preferred, but Brandon was there to handle any emergencies that might come up. God willing, there wouldn’t be any.
“Trust me,” he continued. “You’ll be doing whatever your California husband wants, just like you took those piano lessons for your father.” They stopped at the tree, and he held his hand out to take the tray. When she handed it to him, he added, “Don’t think it’s going to be like it is now. I’m only teaching you how to shoot because you’ll run off and find some other man to teach you, and that could ruin your reputation. I’m not doing this because I want to.”
“So what you’re saying is that the only time I’m going to be able to do anything I want is while I’m on this trail,” she said.
He nodded. “Pretty much.” He set the tray against the base of the tree then turned to her, hands on his hips. “Don’t get used to it.”
“So what you’re saying is that I need to do a lot more of the things I’ll never do there, like shoot a gun and help with the lookout.”
No, that wasn’t what he thought she should do at all. He had expected her to understand how senseless all of these activities were because she’d never have to do them again.
Giving him a satisfied smile, she held her hand out to him. “I’ll need a gun if I’m going to shoot the target.”
With a sigh, he pulled his Colt out of his holster and gently placed it in her palm. He could say something, he supposed, but the truth was, he’d said enough already.
Chapter 11
Michelle was lying on her stomach on the grass, doing her best to aim the gun at the old tray Sherry had given her. Why was it so hard to hit the thing? She wasn’t that far from it. She had no idea shooting something could be so hard. The men made it look so easy.
Joe was sitting next to her, picking up blades of grass and tossing them into the wind as if he was bored. And he probably was. He had demonstrated how to shoot the tray—and he had nailed it on the first shot. Making it look far too easy.
She turned her attention back to the tray and steadied her hand. Maybe she was having trouble focusing because he was sitting close to her. Even if he irritated her, she couldn’t seem to squash the thrill she felt by simply being near him.
This was ridiculous. She had to get a hold of herself. She couldn’t just lie here and pine away for him. She came here to learn how to do something new, something she’d never be able to learn anywhere else.
Like it or not, he had told her the truth. She wasn’t going to be able to do any of this once she was in California. She would be stuck playing the piano, hosting parties, and pleasing her husband. Much as she had spent her entire life up to now in Omaha. The only difference was, in Omaha, she didn’t know this type of life even existed. She’d been doing what was expected of her because it was all she’d ever known. But now, her eyes were open to the other things the world had to offer, and she wanted to explore so much of it.
She stretched her neck and took a deep breath. Then she angled the gun so that it was pointed straight at the tray. She could do this. She knew she could. If Joe could do it, then she co
uld, too. It wasn’t like she was trying to throw something heavy at the tray. She was only pulling a trigger.
Biting her lower lip, she pulled the trigger. And missed. Again. She gritted her teeth and let out an irritated huff.
Joe chuckled.
She looked in his direction and scowled. “This isn’t funny. I’m doing my best.”
“You’re trying too hard.”
“There’s no such thing as trying too hard.”
“Sure there is. Shooting requires some level of concentration, but there’s also an element of instinct involved. You’re not relying enough on instinct.”
She rolled her eyes. “There’s no such thing as instinct.”
“Sure, there is. Instinct is good in everything. It helps when you keep watch through the night, when you need to take care of a wagon train, or when you’re shooting something.”
She probably shouldn’t encourage him. It’d only make life more difficult for her while she had to be on this trail with him, but she blurted out the question anyway. “And what is instinct?”
“Instinct is a feeling you get deep in your gut. It tells you whether something is right or not.”
“Hmm… Seems to me that logic would work just as well.”
“There are some things you can’t logically explain, and instinct is one of them.”
She shook her head. “If you can’t explain it, then what good it is?”
The corner of his lip curled up. “You think you can logically explain every single thing in this life?”
“Sure.”
To her surprise, he shifted until he was lying next to her, propping himself up on his elbow as he did so. “Haven’t you ever known something was good or bad without any facts to back it up?”
Of course, she had. The day she met him the marriage had felt right, like they were meant to be together. But look at how wrong she’d been. “No,” she lied. She’d rather die than admit she’d ever entertained romantic notions about him.
“Well, I have,” he said. “There was a time when I felt it was a bad idea to work on the railroad. I went against my instinct, and I ended up regretting it.”
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