by Keli Gwyn
“Perfect. After you’ve done that you’ll squeeze the trigger, easing it back nice and slow.” He took his time wrapping his arms around her and hugging her to him until her cheek rested against his chest. “Nice, wouldn’t you agree?”
She pushed away from him. “I…We…Mr. Rutledge, I think it would be best if we resume the lesson.”
“Of course.” She’d let him hold her, if only for a moment. It felt good to have her in his arms, just as it had when she’d taken refuge there before. But he wanted more. Would she let him kiss her? “I need to tell you about the recoil.”
“Recoil?” Confusion caused her lovely face to scrunch the same way Tildy’s did on occasion. “Sheriff Henderson told me about the process, but he didn’t mention that.”
“Once you’ve fired the shot, the force will make your arms fly up”—with a finger under her chin, he lifted it—“and back.” He tilted her head with his thumb.
“And then?” She stood still, her eyes locked with his, and swallowed. Her parted lips quivered. So did she.
“You could find that your head is spinning and you’re dazed.” She looked as though both were true. He leaned toward her and paused, but she offered him no encouragement. Not even a slight tilt of her head.
What am I doing? Ellie doesn’t even like me that much.
Chapter 13
Elenora broke eye contact, stepped back, and willed her heart to cease its wild dance. Why had she allowed Mr. Rutledge to take her in his arms like that? His actions had illustrated his points, but he might think she welcomed his advances. And that was definitely not the case. She was here to learn to fire a gun so she could protect her business, and that was all.
He pulled his gun from the holster. “Are you ready to shoot?”
“I want to watch you one more time first. I looked at the cans before. This time I’ll keep my eye on you.”
His mustache twitched, as though he were resisting the urge to smile.
She mentally kicked herself. “That didn’t come out the way I meant.”
“You watch me all the time. Why should this be any different?”
“I don’t. Well, maybe now and then. Since your shop is across from mine, I can’t help but see you—it.” She resisted the urge to wince.
He grinned. “Before you feast your eyes, I have to reload.”
Although she enjoyed his teasing, she did her best to appear unaffected. “Sheriff Henderson and I did talk about this. It sounds like a time-consuming process.”
“It’s not that bad. Takes a strong hand though, so I’ll take care of it.”
That was fine with her. She had no desire to deal with the black powder. Thankfully, she wouldn’t have to.
She watched intently as he went through the process, from biting open the first paper cartridge to fitting the percussion caps at the back of each chamber. “Why did you leave one of the chambers empty?”
“I keep the first one empty so the gun won’t go off unexpectedly. Since I put mine under my cash drawer loaded and ready to use, I don’t want any accidents.”
“That’s why you had five shots instead of six then?”
“Exactly.” He finished his task and moved into position. “You wanted to watch me shoot once more?”
“I want to see that recoil you talked about.”
“I’ll fire one more round, and then it’s your turn.” He sent the five cans flying and turned to her, his brows raised, as if he expected a response—or a compliment.
She could see why Sheriff Henderson had recommended Mr. Rutledge, but she wasn’t going to gush just because he was an excellent marksman. “I’ve got the idea now.”
While he reloaded, she held an imaginary gun, took aim, and pretended to shoot.
He held his revolver out to her. “Ready, Ellie?”
“No one’s ever called me Ellie before. I really wish you wouldn’t. It’s not proper.”
He laughed, a warm, rich sound that melted her resolve. No matter how hard she tried to resist his charm, he would disarm her, and she’d forget why he’d riled her.
“I’ll try to remember, but I’m afraid I may have formed a new habit.”
Crinkles appeared around his eyes, and his mustache twitched. His teasing smile. She should have known. She couldn’t keep herself from smiling in return.
“From that grin of yours, I’d say you’re ready to give it a go. Am I right?”
“Yes!” Reining in her excitement wasn’t easy. For years she’d admired the handguns in the shop down the street from Pa’s, but he wouldn’t even allow her to hold his.
She took the Colt, which was every bit as heavy as the sheriff’s model, and got into position. Mr. Rutledge stepped to the side a few feet from her. “Aren’t you going to be with me the first time?”
“I can’t. The sound and smoke right behind you would be too much. You have to do this on your own.”
As much as she longed to show him she could handle this, she didn’t want to get hurt. “Do you think I’m ready?”
“Tell me about the steps as you walk through each of them, but don’t pull the hammer or squeeze the trigger yet.”
She did as he asked, and he nodded.
“I’d say you’re as ready as you can be, Ellie.”
“All right then, Mr. Rutledge. I’ll need time to get the feel of things, so you mustn’t tease me if I miss.”
“Of course not.”
She cocked the hammer, took aim, and fired her first shot.
“Oh!” The force caused her to stumble backward.
He rushed toward her. “Are you—”
“I’m fine. The gun flew up farther than I expected, that’s all.”
“Has a kick like a mule, doesn’t it?”
“Quite.” She groaned. “I didn’t hit anything.”
He chuckled. “Not a can, but I think you scared that tree back there.”
She huffed. “Really! You gave me your word.”
His mustache did its little dance. “Sorry. I couldn’t resist.”
“I’m going to hit one, you know. It might take a few shots though.”
“I brought plenty of ammunition. Fire away.”
She fired sixteen shots before she hit her first can, but he deserved some credit for not laughing again. His pointers did help.
Nearly two hours had passed by the time they finished. Elenora wiped the back of her hand over her forehead. “I never did get them all.”
“Don’t worry. You got three out of five and were close on the other two that last round, which is fine. If you had to shoot in the shop, you’d be far closer to a much larger target.”
“I’d hoped to do better.”
“Once you put in some practice, you’ll get more consistent.”
“Indeed I will. But right now I need to rest.” She rubbed her right arm.
“You’re likely to be sore for a while.”
He gathered the cans, carried the crate to where she leaned against the trunk of a tall ponderosa pine, and set it down. Resting a hand beside her head, he looked into her face. His gaze traveled from her eyes to her lips and lingered there. She swallowed.
“You know, Ellie, this turned out better than I expected. I’d be willing to give you another lesson or two.” He reached a hand toward her cheek, where she felt wisps of hair against her sticky skin, and brushed them aside.
She warmed at his touch, but as much as she wanted to give way to the feelings coursing through her, she couldn’t. He’d rejected her and was now her rival. “While I appreciate the offer, that won’t be necessary. You’ve taught me what I need to know. Pearl said I could practice whenever I’d like, and I will.”
He hefted the crate, and the cans clattered. “What will you use? Will’s gun? He got that antique from his father. Or perhaps you’d hoped to borrow my later model?”
She smiled, a syrupy smile with a topping of smug. “Neither. I’ll use my own once it arrives.”
“Yes. I can imagine what you chose. A fancy
ivory-handled derringer with curlicues and whatnot engraved on its shiny silver barrel. The kind of gun a woman would call cute.”
“My gun will suit me just fine.” Wait until he saw it.
The following Thursday Elenora returned from her round of visits, hastened to the Wells Fargo office, and rushed inside to the agent’s counter. “Good afternoon, Mr. McCormick. Did Wally leave my package?”
“He did. Here you go.”
She placed the parcel in her basket and scurried down the walkway, averting her eyes as she passed others. The sooner she reached her shop, the sooner she could admire her gun. All she had to do was make it past the Oriental Hotel, turn the corner, and—
“Elenora.”
She located Pearl waving at her from across the street. Her friend darted over. “Is that it?”
“Yes. Would you like to come to my place and see it?”
“By all means.”
Moments later they stood at the table in Elenora’s back room, the revolver resting on its bed of brown velour in the box before them. She rubbed a finger over the soft fabric. “I like how the case has a section to hold a box of cartridges.”
“I’m sure you’re eager to try out your gun. When can we expect you?”
“I finished my calls early, so I’d like to come out now if that’s all right. I should be able to get in a good hour of practice before I have to pick up Tildy.”
“Certainly. I got the saddle soap Will’s waiting for, so we can walk together.”
They ambled down the road toward the Dupree farm. Although Elenora couldn’t wait to fire her gun for the first time, she treasured the time with Pearl. Having a friend with whom to share her joys and struggles was wonderful.
The conversation shifted from talk of Elenora’s gun to her business.
“Your plan seems to be working well. Mrs. Talbot is singing your praises.”
Elenora laughed. “She’s far too kind. All I did was come up with the idea of selling my wares door-to-door until I can open my shop again.”
“You employed her sons, the same young men who caused the accident. You’ve been in town long enough to hear the rumors. Many people believe them to be nothing but mischief-makers and wanted to see them punished. Including Miles. How do you feel about that?”
“I was angry with the twins at first, but I realized they were just having fun. They were shocked when they saw the damage they caused, and they’re paying me back by guarding my place without pay to make up for it. I can sleep at night thanks to them.”
Pearl shifted her basket from one arm to the other. “But they’re making your deliveries and being paid for that. At least that’s what Will heard at the feed store yesterday.”
How quickly news spread in a small town. “I needed someone, and they’ve been quite reliable. Not only that, but I owe them, too. There are those who seem to forget that Tommy and Timmy saved Tildy and me from that outlaw the day we came into town.”
“Yes, but that wasn’t their intention. They were up to another of their pranks. I don’t mean to question your decision, Elenora, but they’ve earned their reputation as troublemakers. Miles and the others may be right. They could use a firm hand.”
“Mrs. Talbot is doing her best. It’s not easy for a widow to raise a child alone. I, at least, have a girl. She has two sons on the verge of manhood. They’re full of energy and ideas but don’t have a way to put them to good use. She believes they took the townspeople’s label to heart and use it as an excuse for their wild behavior. I think if they have a purpose and are treated with respect, they’ll mend their ways. She agrees.”
Pearl smiled. “You certainly have experience with a bright, adventurous child.”
“That I do. I wish Mr. Rutledge and some of the others would trust my judgment in this. Sheriff Henderson saw things my way after I explained my reasons.”
“Our esteemed sheriff certainly seems to be your advocate. There wouldn’t be something between you two, would there?”
Elenora laughed. “Our shy sheriff? No. He’s been helpful, but he’s not—”
“Miles. And don’t give me that innocent look. I saw the way the two of you were acting after your lesson. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, and you flushed whenever you caught a glimpse of him. Something happened out in the back field, didn’t it?”
She let Pearl’s question go unanswered until the silence grew as thick as the crowns of the trees overhead providing them with welcome shade. Talking about personal matters wasn’t something Elenora was used to, but perhaps that’s what friends did. “He was a gentleman, but I think he wanted to…”
“Kiss you?”
Heat seared her cheeks. “I didn’t let him. I’ve got a business to run. I can’t let my feelings get in the way.”
“So, you do have feelings for him then?”
“I don’t know. Some days I feel drawn to him, but others I wonder why. He and I seem to rub each other’s fur the wrong way at times.”
They’d reached the edge of the Duprees’ property. Pearl stopped, set her basket down, and leaned against the slat fence surrounding her garden. “Miles is a good man, but he’s been hurt, as I suspect you have. The Lord can work healing, but it takes time. I suggest you pray and give the situation to God.”
“All right, but I don’t know what good it will do.”
“You don’t think him capable of change?”
“He can change things if He wants, but He doesn’t seem to care much about me these days. I asked Him to protect my shop, but…” She blinked rapidly.
“He told me you didn’t want his help.”
Understanding dawned. “I didn’t mean Mr. Rutledge. I was talking about God.”
Pearl rested a hand on Elenora’s arm. “The Lord cares deeply about you. He doesn’t always answer our prayers the way we’d like, but that’s because He knows better than we do what we need.”
What she needed was to get away before a traitorous tear could escape. “Yes, of course. And now I really must get started with my practice if I’m to make it back to town in time.”
“I’ll pray for you.”
“Thank you.” Perhaps the Lord would be more inclined to listen to a sweet person like Pearl than He would a strong-minded one like her.
That night Elenora stood at her parlor window, which overlooked Main Street. Although it was nearly ten, the lamps continued to burn in Rutledge Hall, causing a faint glow around the iron shutters over the front windows. They were closed, despite the warm evening.
How much practice did the Mud Springs Musical Society need? They’d met three extra times the past week. That ought to be more than enough rehearsal time for a group of folk musicians who did more improvising than memorizing. She let the curtains flutter from her fingers.
The floorboards creaked as she crept downstairs into her shop. Over a week had passed since the awning had come crashing through the front, and yet the repairs hadn’t even begun. Getting the supplies took forever.
In the meantime dust had managed to find its way past the tarpaulins, coating the display cases and the sheets she’d spread over her wares. But that was a temporary state. Things would be put to rights soon, and she’d be open for business once again.
She must survive this setback and succeed because there was no going back. Pa had made that clear when he took Clayton as his partner—a stepson with no training instead of his own daughter. And after all the years she’d worked alongside him learning everything there was to know about running a mercantile. It wasn’t fair. She slammed a fist on the counter.
“Ouch!” She cradled her hand to her chest.
She’d just have to figure out how to bring in more income until she could reopen. Traipsing over the township took time. While she enjoyed getting to know the women, she could only visit a handful each day. Each of them wanted to offer her something to eat before she discussed her wares, requiring her to spend a minimum of an hour at each house. She’d sampled a wider variety of desserts the past
week than she’d had in the last five years combined.
If only there were some way to make better use of her time.
She snapped her fingers. “That’s it!” She knew just what she’d do. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.
The strong scent of marigolds and buzz of bees stopped Elenora. She paused and drank in the sight and sounds before stepping from Mrs. Sanders’s Main Street home. What a productive day this had been. The older woman had ordered several yards of fabric, notions aplenty, and a fancy trunk with brass fittings in which to pack her new wardrobe for her upcoming trip to visit her sister in San Francisco.
While that order was worth the time it took to meet with a customer individually, Elenora marveled at the success of her group presentations, or Shopping Socials as she called them. A number of women had practically tripped over one another in their rush to schedule a gathering in their homes since she’d offered to play her violin for them.
Rather than serving one dessert to her, as had been the case before, they now offered a variety to their guests. She no longer had to eat four or more a day, which was a good thing. Despite all the walking she was doing as she traveled from house to house, the steady succession of sweets had begun to tax her waistbands.
The most rewarding aspect of the events was the fellowship. Getting to know the women of El Dorado and understand their needs would enable her to stock items better suited to them. While that would serve her financially, seeing their excitement as they envisioned the changes they could make in their homes, wardrobes, and lives excited her. They wanted to be as cultured as women in the more settled parts of the country, and she could use her experience to enlighten them.
“Mrs. Watkins!” Tommy waved at her from his perch on the railing in front of the saloon across the street, the ever-present length of rope he used to practice tying knots clutched in his hand. The sooner she could get him away from there, the better. She beckoned, and he leaped down and charged across the street, startling Dr. Lyle’s team in the process.
“Mr. Talbot, you must watch what you’re doing.” She gave the doctor an apologetic smile as he passed, pulled a list from her reticule, and handed it to Tommy. “I’ve got seven orders for you to deliver, but they’re a bit spread out, I’m afraid. Do you think you’ll have time to get them done before five?”
