by B. N. Hale
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“I understand why you didn’t.” Jackson shook his head and reached for his spoon, but the cereal had gone soggy. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” Reed said. “Please tell me you have some advice.”
Jackson picked up the box of cereal and began to eat by hand, his expression twisted in thought as he munched. Again, the silence passed between them and then Jackson shook his head and shrugged.
“I’ve got nothing.”
Reed frowned. “You’re the first person I tell a massive secret to, and that’s your answer?”
“I’m not very good with big issues,” Jackson said. “When my grandfather died my mom got mad because I put my basketball in his casket.”
“Really?” Reed asked.
Jackson grinned. “She demanded to know what I was thinking, and I said I thought he’d like to play in heaven.”
Reed began to laugh. “I bet she hated that.”
“She actually liked it,” Jackson said with a smile. “She began to cry and said Grandpa would like the gift.”
“So how exactly is your story supposed to help me?” Reed asked.
Jackson grabbed another handful of cereal. “You loved Aura, but I think she’d want you to be happy.”
“So I should just let her go?”
“Why not?” Jackson asked, shoving the handful in his mouth.
Jackson’s easy dismissal of years of regret brought a smile to Reed. He spoke with such simplicity, but Reed could not simply let go of his promise, even if he wished he could. He sighed and leaned back in his chair.
Shelby stepped out of the bathroom in a towel. “Shower’s open,” she called, and then spotted Reed and Jackson sitting at the table. “Is everything okay?”
“Great,” Jackson said. “I was telling him about when my grandpa died.”
“When you gave him your ball?” Shelby asked, shaking her hair out. “I think it was sweet.”
“I should have given him my old one,” Jackson said. “Grandpa was buried with my good ball.”
Reed and Shelby shared a smile and she disappeared into Jackson’s room to change. Jackson stood and shoved a final handful of cereal into his mouth. As he strode to the bathroom Reed called out to him.
“Please keep it to yourself.”
“You think I want to share something like that?” Jackson jerked his head. “I’ll leave the unloading of heavy knowledge to you. But you should tell Kate. I think she’d understand.”
“It was hard enough to tell you,” Reed protested. “And we’ve known each other for years.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Jackson said, “I still think you should tell her.”
He slipped into the bathroom, leaving Reed to his thoughts. Deciding to forego the shower, Reed reluctantly returned to his room. He collected his laptop on the way and threw himself into homework, hoping it would provide relief from his doubt. The homework didn’t, but texting Kate did.
The next week passed in a blur of homework and preparation for finals week. In addition to tests, he had a pair of meetings with his thesis committee, the combination filling his time and providing a welcome distraction. He studied late and dreamed of homework, until finally completing the last of his exams the day of his date with Kate.
Excited, he texted her several times as he got ready. Then he waited outside for her. Jackson and Shelby were off celebrating with their basketball team, which had taken second in another competition.
Thoughts of Aura evaporated when Kate pulled into the driveway, and before she could get out Reed opened the door and sank into the seat. She grinned as he closed the door and gestured to him.
“Excited for tonight?”
“Let’s just say I’d like to shoot something.”
“That kind of week?”
He nodded. “Finals were tough. You?”
“I think I did fine,” she replied, pulling onto the street. “And I got the internship for the summer.”
Dressed in jeans and a plaid shirt, she looked every bit the country girl. She even wore a cowboy hat over her brown hair, making her rather cute. He said as much, and she smiled.
“This is not my usual style,” she said. “But for today, it’s only fitting.”
“What will we be shooting?”
“Whatever you’d like,” she replied. “Ember briefly worked at a shooting range because she liked a guy that worked there. She managed to talk him into providing us the evening.”
“How romantic.”
She laughed and pointed east. “We’ll stop for dinner first. It’s an odd place, but you can eat bison, alligator, even duck.”
“I’ve never had any of those,” Reed said.
“Me either,” she said, “but I hear bison is good.”
“Like a steak?” he asked, imagining carving into a gigantic steak.
“I think it’s a burger,” she said.
He grinned. “That sounds more my style.”
As they drove into town they talked of food and favorites, and Reed enjoyed the easiness of the companionship. After the stressful week, just being with Kate was wonderful, and he found himself again trying not to hold her hand.
She too seemed unburdened. Although he thought it was due to the completion of her own finals, he began to guess it had more to do with Jason. They ate dinner and reminisced about the date with sushi, with both agreeing that a bison burger was better. When they climbed into the car again he rotated into his seat to look at her, finally deciding to voice his thoughts.
“You look good,” he said, interrupting their conversation about favorite cheeses.
“I think you already said that,” she said with a smile.
“Not your clothes,” he said. “You. You look good.”
Her eyebrows knit together. “Thank you?”
He grinned. “That sounded like a question.”
“It was.”
He shrugged, casting about for an explanation. “Since our first date there was a cloud hanging over you. Now it’s gone.”
“Until I met you, I regretted my choice to break up with Jason,” she said. “I didn’t understand everything that had happened between us. Between my dates with you and his return, I managed to put all my doubts to rest.”
“And now?” he asked.
“I’m free,” she said with a smile.
“And what do you plan to do with your newfound freedom?”
Her smile turned mischievous. “Shoot some guns.”
“You said you used to shoot with your family?”
“I did,” she said. “Military family, remember? I used to go with my dad and my brothers. I’m decent with a pistol, but I prefer rifles or shotguns. You?”
“Very little experience, I’m afraid. Although I used to go shotgun shooting when I was a scout.”
“That’s what your mother said.”
Reed laughed lightly. “How many guys’ parents have you talked to?”
“Only yours and Jason’s,” she said. “I think his mother didn’t like me at first. Now that I think about it, his father didn’t care for me either.”
“Why?”
“I told you they were doctors, and they wanted him to marry one. I don’t think an engineer was a prestigious enough occupation for their son.”
“Sounds a little arrogant.”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” she said. “Jason said his parents are getting a divorce.”
“That’s too bad,” he said. “How was he taking it?”
“Not well,” she said. “He’d always considered his parents to have the model relationship. I think their falling apart left him shaken.”
“It’s always hard when your core principles are broken,” he said, nodding. “Any younger siblings?”
“Three sisters,” she said. “He’s the oldest. The others are still in high school.”
Reed winced. “So he now feels the weight of his family on his shoulders.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Older siblings always feel a divorce the worst,” he said.
Her eyes flicked to him and then returned to the road. “Is that you or your degree talking?”
“Both,” he said. “My parents split up when I was a teenager, and all I wanted to do was protect my little sister.”
“Now that you mention it,” she said. “I think my older brothers did go out of their way to protect me. They used to get me candy when my parents were arguing and sneak me a tablet so I could watch TV.”
“Clever.”
“I may have fought with my brothers, but they were always on my side.”
“You still sound sad.”
She shook her head. “Not at my brothers. I’m just wondering—is that how every family is going to end up? With brothers protecting their sisters?”
“I hope not. But I guess it depends on the couple.”
“Yes,” she said, her eyes lingering on him. “I suppose it does.”
Chapter 4
They pulled into the shooting range and parked next to the door. There was only one other car in the lot. Curious, Reed followed her to the door. Although a sign said the location was closed, she knocked and a moment later the door opened.
“Bart,” she said.
“Kate,” he said with a nod, ushering them inside. “I assume this is Reed?”
“It is,” Reed said with a smile, offering his hand.
Bart took it and looked him up and down, the measuring look implying he’d heard about Reed, probably from Ember. Short and stocky, he had a wrestler’s body but was already going bald, even though he appeared to be their age.
“Ever used a gun?” he asked, his accent marking him as native to Colorado.
“A few times,” Reed said. “And I know enough to point the gun downrange.”
Bart smirked. “You’re halfway to safety right there.”
He turned and led them into the darkened shop. Guns hung in cases against the wall, while boxes of ammunition, safety glasses, and other gear were stowed on shelves. A long counter ran down an entire wall and contained pistols and knives. On the back wall a pair of giant elk heads loomed over them, while targets marked every available inch of wall space. The range smelled of paper and gun oil.
“How’s Ember?” Bart asked, leading them to the back, where he unlocked a door to lead them to the range behind.
“Less mad,” Kate said, casting Reed an amused look. “Helping me tonight has erased much of her animosity.”
“I swear that girl is more dangerous than a rifle,” he said.
“Don’t teach her to shoot,” Reed said.
“That’s why she’s mad at me,” Bart said with a rumbling laugh. “I started to teach her and she nearly shot me, so I took the gun away. She’s mad because I refused to teach her again.”
Reed grinned at the idea of the fiery Ember with a gun in her hands. It would be like giving a dragon a missile. Kate caught his eye and they stifled a laugh as they followed Bart through the maze of buildings.
The main structure fronted a series of small, outdoor ranges. As they passed the pistol range, a sign indicated the long-distance range was to the west. Trees surrounded the path, casting shade upon them and obscuring the view. A moment later the trail turned through a gap in the foliage and a hut came into view. A wide grassy area extended beyond the structure, the greenery spotted with orange and white fragments.
Bart sat them at a table and ran them through a brief safety talk. Then he motioned Kate forward. She picked up the shotgun and accepted the shell from him. With practiced fingers she loaded the weapon and took a step to the covered overhang looking out over the lawn. Bart picked up a remote and donned ear protection. Reed followed suit.
“Whenever you’re ready,” Bart said, his voice muffled.
She shouldered the weapon and then called, “Pull!”
Bart pushed the trigger and a clay pigeon shot from a window in the hut, soaring out over the field. Kate tracked it and fired, the report reverberating off the surrounding trees. But the clay pigeon remained unscathed until it shattered against a truck.
“Four more and then we’ll trade,” Bart said. “Let’s see how many you can hit.”
The answer was all four. Kate nodded in satisfaction as she lowered the shotgun, while the remains of her latest victim clattered to the ground. Then she turned to Reed and removed her ear muffs.
“Think you can do better?” she challenged.
“No,” he said.
She laughed and handed him the gun. Donning his own safety glasses, he readied himself to lose. In short work he proved himself more capable than he remembered, finishing three of the five targets.
“Better than I expected,” Kate said.
“Better than I expected,” Reed said.
She laughed and they traded places. Bart ran the range until it became clear they could handle themselves. Then he departed to finish locking up. When he was gone, Reed took his turn on the gun.
“He’s leaving us alone?”
“Ember let him know I came from a military family,” she said. “Most of the clientele here is from the military, and they trust the shooters.”
“It’s Colorado,” he said. “I’m surprised our state flag doesn’t have a gun.”
“Perhaps it should,” she said with a smile.
“Pull!” he called. He fired and missed.
He’d accepted the fact that he was not going to best her, but he hoped he could at least keep from embarrassing himself. He couldn’t. Her targets fell to her gun. His targets fell to the ground.
She stopped and rubbed her shoulder. “It’s getting dark. Care to try pistols?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“On how many things you want to prove you’re better at?”
She laughed and placed the gun back in the case. “I told you I wasn’t very good with pistols.”
“Did I tell you how many times I’ve used a pistol?”
“How many?”
“If we shoot today? One.”
She grinned and turned off the skeet launcher before heading back to the main structure. Bart set them up in the range and then disappeared back to the office. Shaped like a squat box, the interior shooting range contained motorized targets that could send a paper target to various distances.
Kate helped him load the pistol and then he took aim. At ten yards, he managed to hit the paper once, but nowhere near the center of the target. When he finished, she directed him to place the gun on the table and she took her turn.
The rounds echoed in the firing range, the sounds muffled through the ear protection. Reed watched the target at first but then his gaze was drawn to Kate, who stood with her body straight, her arms forward as she sighted along the gun. Her posture exuded strength, making her even more attractive.
She finished a clip and then put the gun down, smiling as she turned to him. “See? It’s not so hard.”
He swallowed the surge of desire and focused on the target, which now looked tattered across the paper. As he shook his head, they again traded places and she directed him on how to load the gun.
“Mind if I help?” she asked.
“I think I need it,” he said ruefully.
She smiled and positioned his arms. “Put one foot behind the other and brace your arm like this. When you pull the trigger, don’t pull too hard. It will twist the gun and cause it to jump to the side. Fire when ready.”
She stood next to him, the side of her body pressed against his. Her arm was around his back, her touch feathery soft yet strong. He focused on the scent of burned gunpowder, hoping it would ground him.
“Ready?” she asked, her voice quiet, as if she’d suddenly recognized their proximity.
After three months of dating they had hardly touched, the absence now amplifying the desire to do so. Her hand on his elbow pulsed lightning into his arm and he shivered. He glanced her way and their eyes m
et, so close he could have kissed her if he just turned a few inches . . .
The door clattered open and Bart stepped in with several boxes of ammunition. Reed and Kate both jumped, and she stepped away with a flush. Reed was grateful he had the presence of mind to take his finger off the trigger as they parted.
“I only have a few more minutes,” Bart said, placing the boxes under the table at the back of the range. “You about done?”
“I think so,” Kate managed with a nod, glancing at Reed with a shy smile.
Bart pulled out his phone. “I’ll give you five minutes,” he said, obviously distracted.
“Thanks again, Bart,” Kate said.
“Don’t mention it,” he replied, and then smiled, finally focusing on them. “At least to my bosses. Feel free to mention it to Ember.”
“I will,” she said.
He nodded and left, and in the ensuing quiet Reed looked to Kate. The moment had rattled them both, and Reed realized that after Jason’s return and departure, the barriers between them had been partially removed. Reed tried to shrug it off with a smile but found he couldn’t. He gestured to the gun in his hands.
“I’m not sure I got it.”
She smiled, the expression tentative and surprised. Reed’s request was a bending of his rules, an invitation for them to be physically close. A voice inside Reed wanted to protest as she took up her former position, the touch more intimate than before because he’d allowed it, because he wanted it.
“Ready?” she asked softly.
“I hope so,” he said.
Chapter 5
Reed’s clip lasted seconds, but the sensation of her against his side seared into his memory. Neither of them spoke of the encounter but Reed sensed a shift in their relationship. Up until this point they had kept a discreet distance, but now they’d come to a line of demarcation. He knew it wouldn’t be the first time they did. The question would be, when would they cross?
“Did you enjoy shooting?” she asked as they left the range.
“A great deal,” he said, choosing his words carefully.
She smiled, clearly pleased. “Every Christmas I go shooting with my brothers.”
“Most people open presents.”
