"Now let's see if you can learn to shoot it."
He led her outside and set several small stones on a flat rock.
Returning to where she stood, he took up a position behind her and brought his arms around her.
They both felt the sudden, jolting shock. And both struggled to remain calm.
Holding the pistol at eye level, he brought his lips to her ear. He realized he was enjoying himself. Though she was probably uncomfortable being held like this, she would have to endure it if she wanted to learn what only he could teach her.
With his lips close to her ear he felt her little shiver as he murmured, "Use the barrel of the gun as a sight." He felt her tremble and brought his lips even closer until they were brushing her ear.
"When the target is dead center, gently squeeze the trigger while keeping the gun level."
Caroline struggled to concentrate on the words. But it was difficult when Thad was standing so close and his warm breath was whispering over her skin.
He kept his hands over hers as he lightly squeezed her finger on the trigger.
The gunshot echoed in her ears as the first small rock shattered, scattering fragments into the air.
"I hit it!" she cried excitedly.
As she turned her head, his lips brushed her cheek. She saw the way his eyes narrowed slightly as he corrected, "We hit it. Now it's your turn."
She took careful aim, then closed her eyes and fired. Fifty feet from the target the bullet embedded itself in the dirt, sending up a spray of sand.
"I missed," she complained.
' "How could you hit anything with your eyes closed?"
"My eyes weren't closed."
"They were."
"Well, I was confused. You're standing too close."
At her admission, he grinned and took a step back. He watched as she took aim again. This time as she squeezed the trigger, she kept her gaze on the target. One of the stones shattered.
"I hit it! Of course," she admitted sheepishly, "it wasn't the one I was aiming at. But at least I hit something."
"Still not good enough. Teacher."
She cast him a withering look and aimed again. This time she hit the target she was aiming at and gave a little squeal of delight.
"You see,"
she called.
"I'm getting better each time."
"You have a long way to go," he said.
"Remember that these stones aren't firing back. If they were, you'd already be dead."
The smile was wiped from her lips as she took aim again.
Thad stood back and studied her. It seemed unbelievable that the woman in the modest gray gown who had just dismissed a school full of children could be calmly standing here learning how to shoot a gun.
The breeze caught a strand of her hair and sent it dancing across one cheek.
She brushed it aside and lifted the gun, taking careful aim. As she squeezed the trigger he heard her little laugh of triumph.
"I hit it."
' "Now do it again. And keep on doing it until you can hit it every time."
He saw the look of determination in her eyes. And then he noticed something else. She had removed her spectacles. Odd, he thought.
Wouldn't she need them to see the target?
His eyes narrowed. Could it be that the lady didn't need those spectacles at all?
But why would a beautiful woman do such a thing? They could be a disguise to make her appear more scholarly. They would also hide a pair of beautiful eyes. Now that was an interesting thought, and one that intrigued him. It
wasn't the first time he'd suspected as much.
But why would she want to hide her beauty? Unless. Why would Caroline Adams be afraid of men?
He studied the too large gown that cleverly disguised a lush body and noted her attempts to tame a mass of gypsy hair. He thought back to the times he'd touched her. In every instance she had initially pulled back in alarm. His gaze became more piercing.
"I hit the target three times in a row!" she called, her voice high with excitement.
"Still not good enough." He saw her frown before she returned her attention to the task at hand.
"I'm going to do it." She flashed him a bright smile. "Before long I'll be able to hit the target every time."
His voice lowered.
"Remember something, Caroline."
At the tone of his voice she lowered the gun and turned to him. The look in his eyes was stern.
"Hitting a target is one thing. If you aim that gun at a man, you have to be prepared to take his life." He thought of the terrible lesson he'd learned when he was just a boy.
"That's an awesome responsibility. And once done, it can never be undone."
Her smile faded. She nodded solemnly.
"I'll remember."
For a moment he thought she'd changed her mind. But then he saw the way she stiffened her spine.
"There are some," she said just as solemnly, "who deserve to be shot."
With teeth clenched she aimed at the target and fired four times in a row.
All four stones shattered on impact.
"One more thing," Thad said softly.
"Don't expect this gun to suddenly keep you safe from any and all harm.
Your best defense is still here." He touched a finger to his temple.
"Your mind. When you feel threatened, keep your wits about you. That, and not your gun, is what will keep you from being hurt."
She checked the gun, loaded the empty chamber and placed it in her pocket.
"I'll use my wits if I can. But if I have to, I won't be afraid to use my gun." She offered her hand.
"Thank you. For the gun and the lessons."
He looked at the small hand and braced himself before accepting it. As always, he felt the current that seemed to pulse between them at the slightest touch.
"Don't be so quick to thank me. You haven't heard what payment I'll demand."
She patted the pistol resting in the pocket of her gown and gave him a smile that sent his heart spiraling out of control.
"Better be careful, Texan." She laughed, low and deep. "If the price is too high, I might make you answer to my gun."
With a bemused expression Thad muttered,
"See what happens when you wear a gun? You start to think you can push people around. Well, if we're going to duel," he said, walking to his horse, "we'd better do it on full stomachs."
"What are you doing?"
He removed several linen-wrapped articles from his saddlebags, then opened the door to her cabin and waited for her to enter.
At her arched brow he followed her inside and explained, "I'm going to feed you. Rosita outdid herself today and made enough to feed half your students."
Though she was surprised, Caroline had to admit to herself that she was delighted. While she set the table, Thad unwrapped the pottery dishes to reveal a spicy venison stew and a loaf of bread still warm from the oven.
"These dishes look like they've traveled a long way." Thad picked up one of Caroline's precious chipped cups and examined the delicate morning glory design.
"They were my mother's," Caroline said softly.
"And before that, her mother's."
There was a wistfulness in her words that had him watching her closely.
"Did you know your grandmother?"
She shook her head. When he tried to get her to talk about her childhood, she became strangely silent.
"Tell me about your life here in Texas," she urged.
Thad smiled, thinking how deftly she had managed to turn the tables once again. But the truth was, he needed little persuasion to tell her about his childhood. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to talk to her.
"I suppose to some it was hard. But it was a fine time to be young and carefree. Despite all the hardships, I wouldn't trade it for anything."
Caroline thought how handsome he was when his eyes crinkled in a face bronzed by the sun.
"
I could ride a horse before I could walk," he said softly.
"And Jessie made sure I could read and write. Not that I took to it,"
he said with a laugh.
"Book learning was for Clan. He couldn't get enough of it. But I loved the land and the freedom and the horses. I guess the horses have always been my downfall. I'd go clear to California for a horse with good bloodlines."
While he regaled her with stories of his childhood adventures, Caroline savored the food, eating until she was satisfied.
Relaxed, replete, she was caught completely off guard when Thad said calmly, "Now, tell me about this man."
"Man?" Her hand holding the cup paused in midair.
"The man who has you learning to use a gun."
"I don't know..." She set the cup down with a clatter and refused to look at him.
When she started to stand, he got to his feet and caught her roughly by the shoulder. His voice lowered.
"You know who I mean, Teacher. The man who's made you so afraid to be a woman."
"How dare...? I am not afraid..."
"Aren't you?" He dragged her close and saw the way her eyes widened with sudden fear.
She tried to cover her fear with a display of anger, but her voice trembled slightly.
"Take your hands off me."
"That was a good try. Teacher." His words were low, gruff.
"But what you've commanded is impossible. You see, every time I get too close to you, I seem to lose control." Dragging her roughly against him, he covered her mouth with his.
For a moment she brought her hands to his chest to brace herself. But as the kiss deepened, she could do nothing more than hold on.
Would it always be like this when he touched her? Would her mind always empty and her blood heat? She had made a promise to herself. A promise to hold all men at arm's length, to make her way in life alone.
But every time this man was near, she forgot everything except the pleasure of the moment.
He lingered over the kiss, drawing out all the wild, sweet flavors that were unlike anything he'd ever sampled. She made him yearn to lie with her beneath a full moon on a hot Texas night. She made him think about bartering all his freedoms for one night in her arms. She made him wish. He lifted his head and studied her lips, still swollen from his kiss.
"When are you going to trust me enough to tell me what's going on?"
For long minutes she clung to him and thought about telling him everything.
It would be so wonderful to have someone else to help her bear the burden she'd been carrying alone for so long. But as she surfaced, her mind slowly cleared.
How could she possibly confide in this man? Or in anyone? Pushing free of his arms, she took a step back, and then another.
He watched as Caroline fled across the room to pace in front of the fireplace.
"Don't ask me. I can't tell you."
It wasn't much of an admission, but at least she had stopped denying that there was anything to tell.
"I could help, if you'd be willing to trust me."
Trust. He didn't understand what he was asking of her. She refused to look at him as she shook her head and turned to stare into the flames.
His voice was low and edged with steel.
"Good night, Teacher. I hope that pistol keeps you warm tonight."
He tore open the door and strode into the darkness. Climbing into the saddle, he gave a last look at the door of the cabin.
As his horse's hooves ate up the miles, he pondered again what it was about that damnably independent little woman that had him so bewitched.
He'd never before spent so much time with someone who made him so comfortable and uncomfortable at the same time. Like the finest leather saddle, he thought. With a burr under it. One he couldn't seem to dislodge.
Chapter Eleven
For Caroline, the days passed in a blur of work.
She was grateful that every waking moment was filled with demanding chores.
The hard work kept her from worrying about the danger that lurked just beyond the door of her cabin. Each day there had been a new clue to remind her that the predator was still circling his prey.
But why? Why was he toying with her like this? The answer came swiftly. To torment her. To make her so fearful that when he finally showed himself she would be too terrified to resist him.
His tactics were thorough, the result predictable. She was terrified.
But she would never give in to his demands.
Caroline guided the horse over the rolling fields, past a few small outbuildings, until she pulled up in front of a small, neat wooden house.
Taking a book and slate from the rig, she walked to the front door and knocked.
Cora Meadows, wiping her hands on her apron, opened the door and stared in surprise.
"Miss Adams. I never expected to see you out here."
"And why not? Didn't you say you had a son?"
"Well, yes, of course. But Ben's--he's crippled. He can't leave his bed."
"He still has a mind, doesn't he?"
The woman seemed taken aback before she nodded.
"Good. Then I'll bring the reading and writing to him."
A small wiry man, his arms corded with muscles, came in from the fields and stared at their visitor in surprise.
"Ab," Cora said, "the new teacher. Miss Adams, came out here to meet our Ben. Miss Adams, this is my husband, Abner."
The man removed his hat and nodded a stiff-lipped greeting.
Caroline followed Cora down a narrow hallway. In a small room in the back of the house, overlooking the fields, lay a boy of about ten.
Copper hair and a dusting of freckles across his nose made him look the picture of health. But his eyes were sad and unsmiling.
"Ben, this is the new teacher. Miss Caroline Adams."
"Hello, Ben." Smiling brightly, Caroline offered her hand.
With an effort the boy extended his hand, all the while studying her closely.
"Can you read, Ben?"
"Some."
"How about writing?"
He shrugged.
"A little. But my hands won't always do what I want."
Caroline had noticed his weak grip. She would have to determine whether he could grasp the chalk.
Opening a beginner's book, she handed it to him, saying, "Do you think you could read a few pages to me?"
The boy glanced at his mother, then, seeing her nod of approval, accepted the book. In slow, halting words he struggled through two pages before Caroline thanked him.
"I'll leave you two alone," Cora said, backing from the room.
As she headed down the hall she heard Caroline say, "Now, Ben, let's try to do a few of our sums on the slate."
When Cora returned a half hour later, Caroline was reading a story.
Though Ben's look was still grave, he followed every word with rapt attention.
Cora halted in the doorway and watched for several minutes before turning away.
It was nearly two hours later when Caroline stood.
"I have to leave now.
If you'd like, Ben, I could come by once a week and check your progress.
During the week your mother could help you with your lessons. Would you like that? " He seemed surprised by her offer. And though he didn't smile, there was a light of enthusiasm in his eyes.
"I guess so."
Caroline handed him the slate and the book. He accepted her gifts as reverently as if they were gold.
"Remember, Ben, once you've mastered the words, you can travel all over the world in the pages of a book." She saw the faraway look that came into his eyes.
"Goodbye, Ben. I'll be back next week."
In the kitchen she accepted a cup of coffee from Cora and explained the lessons for the week. Then, taking her leave, she hurried to the rig, eager to return to her cabin before dark.
As she drove away, Cora turned to her taciturn husband i and said,
"I tell you
, Ab, he was hanging on to every word ; she spoke."
"It won't help him walk." Cora studied her husband, seeing beneath the guarded a look the pain he suffered for his only son.
"No. But I haven't seen Ben this alert since the accident. If nothing
else, she took him away from his loneliness for a few hours."
That night Caroline awakened from a sound sleep to an eerie bright light flashing against the window. Sitting up, she listened to a strange crackling sound and breathed in the scent of burning wood.
Fire. She jumped from her bed and raced from her room to the schoolroom.
Finding nothing, she ran to the window. A fire blazed in the middle of the school yard.
She stormed outside in her nightgown and stared at the flames leaping toward the night sky from a pile of kindling.
A man's deep voice called from the cover of the surrounding woods.
"Take a good look at my power. That could just as easily have been your cabin set ablaze while you slept. Take heed."
His oddly high-pitched laughter scraped over nerves already stretched to the breaking point as she raced inside and latched the door. On trembling legs she shoved the table and chairs against the door, then climbed into her bed, shivering beneath the covers.
She lay there, dry-eyed and terrified. She was helpless against this predator. Her fingers curled around the gun, cold and menacing beneath her pillow. What good would a gun do against this sort of man? She had been a fool to think that she could keep him away by the simple threat of force.
The fire was, she knew, another grim reminder that she was still being stalked. Each threat would become more violent until he finally showed his hand.
In the morning Caroline shoveled sand over the ashes to discourage any questions from curious students. But as she spent the day with the children, she found her mind drifting and had to force herself to concentrate on the lessons.
It was nearly two weeks before the predator struck again. As Caroline lay sleeping, a single gunshot was fired through the open window. The bullet landed just inches above her head, sending splinters of wood flying as it embedded in the wall.
She bolted from her bed and cowered, trembling violently, in a corner of the room. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw the shadow of a man outside the curtained window.
"You are such an easy target," came his muffled voice. "Remember this.
Texas Hero Page 12
