Evie wanted to smack him. “I just wanted privacy to talk to you.”
“What about?” Elizabeth asked, settling Tempest in her high chair before heading back to the stove.
Evie took the gun out of her pocket and placed it on the table before Asa. Giving it a little shove, she said, “I want your husband to teach me to shoot.”
“He can certainly do that.”
Asa wasn’t so accommodating. He stared at her with those too discerning eyes, only the barest shift in his smile indicating the change in his mood. “Brad that irritating?”
She blinked, gathered her thoughts, and found her sense of humor. “My last nerve is feeling the strain.”
“I’ve always found the Reverend to be very easygoing.”
Asa glanced over at his wife. “The eggs are burning, Elizabeth.”
Her hands came down on her hips. “If you don’t want my input, just say so.”
“I want your opinion, but considering my stomach is gnawing on my backbone, I’m interested in breakfast.”
“Well, shoot.” She turned back to the stove. “Then talk louder, so I don’t miss out.”
Reaching for his coffee, he winked. “Remember to speak up.”
A little of Evie’s tension slipped. It was getting easier and easier to see why Elizabeth adored the man. He might have lived a hard life, and killed more than his share of outlaws, but he had an easy way about him with the people he liked, and he clearly adored his family. “I’ll do my best.”
“Now . . .” He took a sip of his coffee. “Any particular reason you chose me?”
“You’re the best there is with a gun.”
“That’s flattering.”
“It was meant to be practical.”
Asa glanced toward Elizabeth, his smile soft. “Well, now. I’m right fond of practical.”
The frying pan clattered as Elizabeth moved it aside, a small grin on her lips.
“What does Brad say?”
“He’s too busy keeping secrets to be sensible. Besides, he can’t get out of bed, let alone teach me to shoot.”
“It’s not my nature to step between a husband and wife.”
Elizabeth snorted as she set plates of food before Asa and Evie, keeping a third for herself. “Since when?”
That hint of a smile grew as he drew the gun toward him. “Since about the time you taught me how much trouble women can get into.”
Elizabeth shook her head and spooned a bit of egg into Tempest’s mouth. “We’re not the ones who cause the trouble, are we, Evie?”
“In my experience, it’s always the male of the species with the propensity to complicate things.”
Asa picked up the gun. “On that, I’m going to disagree. As the preacher says, ‘Women are the root of all evil.’ ”
“Brad doesn’t say that!”
Sighting down the barrel, Asa smiled. “I don’t recall saying he did.” Sunlight flashed off the revolver as he bounced it in his grip. “This isn’t one of Brad’s.”
How did he know that? “Cougar gave it to me.”
“Hmm.” He put it back on the table. Motioning with his fork, he ordered, “Eat.”
Forcing down her impatience, she took a bite of the eggs. They were light and fluffy and seasoned with a sweet spice. Nothing like the disaster she’d created for Brad. “These are very good, Elizabeth.”
“Thank you, but they’re just scrambled eggs.”
“You wouldn’t say ‘just’ if you’d tasted the ones I made. I think even Dan’s pigs turned up their noses.”
Tempest, gumming the tiny nibble of egg Elizabeth had given her, reached for the plate. Elizabeth pulled it out of her reach. “Greedy girl. Finish what’s in your mouth first.”
Tempest grinned from ear to ear, showing everyone her pink gums, the egg in her mouth, and the natural charm that was hers. A charm for which Asa had obviously fallen, because he smiled right back, his whole expression softening to the point that it was hard to remember she had come here for lessons because he was the most notorious gunslinger in the state.
“She’s not greedy, darling, she just knows what she wants and goes after it. Like you.”
A fact of which her father clearly approved. Elizabeth pulled the plate farther out of reach when Tempest half climbed on the table, her brow creased with determination. “You won’t be saying that when she sets her sights on her first beau.”
“She can set her sights all she wants,” Asa drawled. “No overeager boy is getting near my daughter.”
Brows arched, Elizabeth exchanged a look with Evie and returned Tempest to her seat. “The same way no woman was getting near you?”
Still smiling, Asa trailed his fingertips down Elizabeth’s arm, lingering at the pulse on the inside of her wrist before curling around and tucking her hand into his. “No woman did. Only my wife.”
The look the couple shared burned jealousy deep into Evie’s heart. She wanted Brad to look at her like that. Most of all, she wanted to be comfortable enough with him to give him the same in return.
Asa picked up his coffee cup and turned his attention back to her. With a lift of his cup he indicated the gun. “So how’d you and your friend get out of the house?”
“Cougar and Clint are keeping Brad distracted.”
“Meaning you slipped out.”
“Pretty much.”
He leaned back in his chair. “So you’re here on borrowed time?”
She nodded. “Which is why I don’t have time to chat.”
Scooping up more of the egg, Elizabeth fed it to Tempest. “I’ll send one of the boys into town with word of where you are, that way you can take all the time you need.”
“I haven’t said I’ll do it, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth stood. “Of course you will. There’s no reasonable benefit to anyone for Evie to remain helpless.”
“I’m not exactly helpless.”
No one paid her any attention.
“Brad won’t thank me for her jumping into a gunfight.”
“She’s not going to jump into anything, are you?” Elizabeth didn’t even wait for Evie to finish her “no.” “She just doesn’t want to be a sitting duck.”
“She might be better off as a protected one.”
Evie’s “No, I won’t” coincided with Elizabeth’s “You know better than that.”
Asa sighed and sat forward. “I’ll think on it over breakfast.”
Impatience bit at Evie’s control. Elizabeth shook her head when she opened her mouth. Grabbing the coffeepot by its towel-wrapped handle, she topped off Evie’s cup murmuring, “He’ll teach you to shoot.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he let you follow him out here. Asa never does anything without a purpose.”
Asa looked up, catching Evie’s gaze, laughter in the depths of his. “There was a time when people feared me.”
Remembering her initial reaction to the assessment when he’d turned his attention on her, she shook her head. “They still do.”
The laughter in Asa’s gaze spread to his lips. “Good to know. When do you want to get started?”
She grabbed the bacon off her plate. She could eat it on the run. “Now would be good.”
“Then now it is.” His chair scraped across the wood floor. “I’ve got a little place set up where I’m teaching Gray.”
THE LITTLE PLACE was about a half mile from the house, back in the woods. A series of stumps and rocks poked up in front of a grass-covered hill. Broken glass and cans littered the area around the stumps and rocks. Asa grabbed a few bottles and put them on the nearest stump. Then he walked back twenty feet waving her closer. “Come on up.”
“Shouldn’t I shoot from here? That’s too close to be challenging.”
He pushed his hat back. “Once you start hitting them from here, we’ll back it up.”
Though it seemed a waste of time to walk up there, take one shot, and then walk back, she could tell from the set of Asa’s jaw that
he wasn’t budging from his plan.
“There’s no way I can miss from here.”
He took the gun from her. “It’s always a mystery how that happens.” He checked the chambers and shook his head. “You came all this way with the gun in your pocket like this?”
“It won’t do me any good empty.”
“It’s not much good to you if it puts a hole in you accidentally either.” Handing her the gun, he advised, “Always leave the first chamber empty. That way if the gun misfires you’re still in one piece.”
She swallowed, taking it gingerly. “They misfire?”
“All the time.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Now, you do.” He adjusted her grip on the handle. “Now, this here’s a nice little gun. A little big for a lady but it rarely misfires, loads easily, and doesn’t have much of a kick.” He looked at her. “The thing about revolvers is, they’re not real accurate far away. You don’t want to be taking potshots at people from over the ridge. The bullet’s going to just fly off aimlessly somewhere in between, and you’ll have given away your position. Not good.”
She nodded. “Got it. Distance isn’t good.”
“Neither is giving away your position.”
She nodded again because he seemed to expect it.
“Now let’s go over some safety rules.”
He went over them twice, making her repeat them before he was satisfied, then loaded and unloaded the gun properly. She thought she’d scream when he emptied the bullets out of the gun one last time.
“I understand the rules.”
That earned her another shake of his head. “You’re as bad as Gray, always wanting to cut to the chase with little regard to how you’re going to get there.”
“I just don’t have much time.”
“Elizabeth sent word.”
“Brad won’t care.”
“Doesn’t like you out of his sight, huh?”
“No.” And she didn’t him like being out of hers. Though she knew he was fine, that Jackson was watching the house, and Cougar and Clint were keeping him busy, she worried he’d insist on following her, reopen his wound, and generally undo all her hard work. “And if he gets too impatient, he could decide to fetch me back and undo all my hard work.”
“And then you’ll have to shoot him?”
There couldn’t be a woman alive who was immune to Asa’s smile when he turned on the charm. Even married, she felt its impact. “Probably.” She took back the gun. “He’s a lousy patient.”
“All right then, show me how you load it and we’ll get started.”
She did.
“Remember to leave the first chamber empty.”
“Even now?”
“Good habits can be learned just as well as bad.”
“Good to know.”
“There are a lot of things that are good to know.”
She put the last bullet in the chamber. “Including the truth about my husband?”
It was a shot in the dark. Not by a flicker of an eyelash did Asa let on that it had hit its mark.
“The Rev’s a good man. What do you need to know beyond that?”
She didn’t know, but it was driving her crazy, thinking that she should. “I don’t like surprises.”
“Then take up your concerns with your husband.”
Another dead end. “There’s such a thing as too much loyalty.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.”
No, he wouldn’t. He was Brad’s friend, not hers. It was good, but it was also frustrating.
“Now stand, hold the gun out, and lock your arms. If there’s a stump or rock around, don’t be too proud to use it as a brace to steady your aim. Sight down the barrel here and pull the trigger. There’s going to be a—”
Squinting against the glare of the sun bouncing off the bottle on the right, Evie pulled the trigger. The only thing that kept the gun from kicking up in her face was Asa’s hand.
His fingers clamped down on the gun. Behind her, she felt the sigh expand his chest. “Just like Gray, you’ve got no patience.”
“I didn’t know—”
“My point exactly. You didn’t know, and the worse thing you can do when you don’t know is rush in with assumptions.”
“Are we still talking about guns?”
“Maybe.” Again that deceptively lazy smile. “Now, next time wait until I finish giving the instructions.”
At her nod, he continued, “As I was saying, keep your arms stiff. There’s going to be some recoil and if you aren’t prepared for it you could be eating the revolver and your next smile could have some gaps.”
That was an image she could do without. “Thanks for the warning.”
“Now, try it again. Aim for the bottle on the right.”
She sighted down the barrel in the direction of the blurry bottle, locked her arms, and pulled the trigger. The recoil was manageable. There was a ping and the can went flying off.
“I hit it!”
“So you did.” His tone was entirely too dry.
“What?”
“You were aiming at the bottle.”
“True, but I hit the can.”
She was inordinately glad to have hit something. Asa didn’t seem to share her enthusiasm.
“And if it doesn’t matter who you drop, friend or foe, I guess that will do.”
“Spoilsport.”
Between one blink and the next, his smile disappeared. “A gun’s not a toy. You miss, and the wrong people can get killed.”
He was right. “Let me try again.”
She leveled the gun.
“Remember to—”
“Lock my arms,” she finished for him. She fired and missed. This wasn’t as easy as it seemed.
They practiced for an hour. She hit exactly one bottle at twenty feet. Ten at thirty feet. She was dead accurate at fifty.
Asa shook his head and pushed his hat back when she paused to reload. “I’ve never seen the like. Most people get worse the farther they get away.”
After checking to make sure it was empty, she set the gun on the nearby rock, and shook out her hands. “I don’t see well up close.”
“Well, that explains a lot, including the portrait you did of the Rev.”
No amount of will could bury her blush. It rose in a steady flood of heat. “When are you people going to forget about that portrait?”
“Not anytime soon, that’s for sure.”
Shoot. “Why not?”
“You might have been a bit loud this morning with your threats.”
This morning . . . What had she said this morning? Oh dear heavens, she’d threatened to hang it off the front porch if Brad annoyed her anymore. “Oh heck.”
“I would have used a stronger term, but that will do.”
Now, everyone would be waiting for the day Brad annoyed her and they finally got to see the infamous painting. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Couldn’t you have done something?”
“I tried knocking, but you were on a tear.”
Yes, she had been. Living in fear was not having a positive effect on her nerves. Looking at the gun, she would say it was even making her rebellious. “Then I guess we’ll just have to live with it.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
“Are we almost done?”
“There’s just one more thing I want to show you.” He took his revolver out of its holster and handed it to her. She grabbed it like he’d taught her. It was heavier than she’d expected, slipping out of her grasp, the chamber spinning a couple clicks. She made a grab for it with her other hand. Her finger brushed the trigger. It fired in a horrible explosion of sound. The recoil was ten times the impact of her little revolver. It flew back past her ears. She screamed and released it to its fate, covering her ears, waiting for the explosion of pain that said she’d blown off her toes.
Asa caught it with the lightning reflexes that made him a legend. She could only stare at him, shaking,
feeling so weak she thought she was going to faint. Holstering the revolver, he caught her arm, steadying her, his gaze just as uncompromising. “Lesson number two: Like men, not all guns are the same. Don’t assume if you know one you know them all.”
Clearing her throat, she found her voice. “Neither are all women, and just so you understand the difference, I’m putting you on notice. If there’s a lesson three, the town will have something new to gape at.”
“Going to paint my picture?”
Picking up her gun, she met his mocking grin with one of her own. “Bigger than life, smack-dab on the side of the livery so all can see.”
“Da—Darn, you fight dirty.”
“You probably shouldn’t forget it.”
Seventeen
IT WAS ALMOST dark. The town was coming to life in a slow pulse the way it did every Monday night with wranglers straggling in off the trail. Not the usual time for a woman to go out alone, but Evie was only going out for a moment and she desperately needed the touch of normalcy after the last two weeks since Brad had regained consiousness. Staying holed up in that house with Brad kept her focused on the danger and if she didn’t get just a minute of a normal routine, she would scream. She liked excitement, but worrying someone was going to bust down the door and start shooting was not the kind with which she did well. This trip to Millie’s to let her know she’d be coming back for her lessons might be a small excursion, but she desperately needed it.
Ahead, a cowboy flew out the door of the saloon and landed in the dirt. Laughter trailed out behind him. He struggled to his hands and knees, reaching for his hat before pitching face forward in the filth. Piano music, smoke, and laughter continued to drift into the night, snaking in an ominous thread through the beautiful evening. Despite the weight of the pistol swinging from her wrist, the shadows took on a more sinister edge. She bit her lip. This might be a good time to cross the street, something she’d been delaying doing because of all the unsavory deposits that blended with the clumps of dirt. Deposits made by horses, pigs, cattle, and men. Deposits she couldn’t see in the twilight without her spectacles. Another glance at the saloon convinced her she didn’t really have a choice. With a near miss a time or two, she made it to the opposite side with clean shoes.
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