Promises Reveal (36 page)

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.”

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.

By the time she came even with the alley below the saloon, the cowboy hadn’t moved, but others—his friends she hoped—came stumbling out of the saloon. Another dirty wrangler with too much to drink knelt in the dirt beside him. He poked his friend. She didn’t think he was going to have much luck getting him to move. The man was clearly unconscious.

A board creaked under her foot. The friend glanced up and gave her a lopsided smile. “Hi, pretty lady, why don’t you come join us?”

In the middle of the dirt and refuse? She shuddered and turned her face away. It didn’t stop his comments from following. How in heaven’s name could Nidia’s ladies bear to entertain men like that, night after night?

A glance over her shoulder revealed he wasn’t following. That was a relief. Still, she’d feel a lot safer once she got past the alley on the opposite side of the saloon. Movement in the shadows to the right caught her eye. It only took a second to make out who it was. Gray, and he was watching the wrangler. Obviously he’d been prepared to intercede if necessary. She shook her head. The boy took too many chances for his age, took on too many responsibilities. His gaze, when it met hers, was stern—shades of his father and his uncle. She sighed. Shades of the man he would one day be.

She ignored the implied order to go home and hurried on. The streets at night really weren’t safe for a woman alone. It wasn’t any more safe for Gray. Looking over her shoulder again, she expected to see Gray heading toward his horse and his own home. Instead, he ducked into the dark alley she’d just passed, carrying something wrapped in linen. An eleven-year-old boy should be nowhere near an alley beside a saloon at any time, no matter how much he thought he could take care of himself. Casting a longing glance down the street toward the warm glow of lights from the homes comprising the better end of town, she sighed and turned back to the harsh reality of Cattle Crossing in full celebration. She couldn’t leave Gray alone to do whatever he was doing. She’d never be able to face Jenna if anything happened to the boy.

This time when she crossed the street she wasn’t as lucky as before. A squish and a foul odor alerted her to the fact that what she’d thought was the up end of a rut in the street was actually a pile of horse dung.
Ugh!
She scuffed her shoe along the dirt, watching the alley in case Gray came out. That boy officially owed her now. If not the cost of new shoes, at least a bit more caution in his behavior.

The alley was little more than a narrow slit between the saloon and the undertaker’s next door. The juxtaposition of the two buildings had always amused her; now it just seemed particularly ominous. The stench of urine and chemicals mixed to form a noxious odor. She put her forearm against her nose. Ahead she could see Gray standing with his back to her. There was an unnatural stillness about him that alerted her to the fact that he wasn’t alone. Ducking back into the shadows, she watched.

“You shouldn’t be out here.”

“It’s quiet here.”

Only if
quiet
was a relative term, Evie thought.

“It’s not safe.”

“It’s as safe as anywhere else. Besides, I knew you were coming.”

The voice was female and very young. Maybe the girl Gray had been talking to before?

“No, you didn’t.”

There was the sound of a huge sigh. “You always come.”

“So?” That belligerent response sounded like an eleven-year-old boy.

“So I knew you would come tonight, too.”

“I won’t come tomorrow.”

“Oh.”

It was a very disappointed “oh.” Even Evie felt for her, and she didn’t even know the girl. “It’s probably good. My mother’s new friend gets angry when I talk to other people.”

Gray seemed to tense. “Brenna, what did you do?”

“I haven’t done anything.”

“Well, don’t. You’re just a little girl.”

Around Gray’s side, Evie could make out the jut of an elbow at about midthigh. A very skinny elbow that had to be attached to a small child. It wasn’t hard to imagine a little girl with her hands on her hips, glaring at Gray. Eventually Gray drove everyone to glare at him. He knew too much for a boy his age and tended to deliver that knowledge with an arrogance that grated.

“I’m not just anything.”

“Are you just a little hungry?”

“Oh yes.”

“Good. I brought you some supper.”

“Biscuits?” It was a very hopeful question.

“Yeah, but I can’t bring you biscuits tomorrow. Jenna will get suspicious if I keep asking for them.”

“No, she won’t. She’ll just be happy that you give her something to do for you. She loves you.”

“Uh-huh. She loves everybody.”

“She doesn’t love me.”

Evie got her first glimpse of the little girl as she hopped up on top of a crate. It was more of a shadow than a real view, but it was enough to determine she was even more slender and small than Evie had imagined. It was easy to see why Gray felt protective of her. Evie didn’t even know her, and she felt protective.

“She would if she met you.” Gray handed her the packet. She shook her head as she opened it, her pigtails flopping around her face, glints of red catching the faint light from the upstairs windows.

“That wouldn’t be safe. My father doesn’t like people to love me.” Holding up the small pile of food, she asked, “Do you want some?”

“You eat it. You need it more.”

She sighed. “You think I’m too skinny.”

“I think you need someone to take better care of you.”

“When you’re older, you can.”

“If I were older, they wouldn’t let me.”

Brenna paused, the biscuit halfway to her mouth. “Why not?”

“Because you’re white.”

“That’s silly.”

With a sigh of his own, Gray motioned with his hand. “Just eat.”

She took a bite. “Ouch.”

Gray immediately stepped forward. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing important.”