Nora Roberts - Lawless

“That’s entirely different.”

“You might not think it’s so different if you stay out here much longer. Where’s the cartridges for the rifle?”

Wiping her hands on her apron, Sarah glanced at the shelf behind her. Jake took the cartridges down, checked them, then gripped her arm. “Come on. I’ll give you a lesson.”

“I haven’t finished cleaning the dishes.”

“They’ll keep.”

“I never said I wanted lessons,” she told him as he pulled her outside.

“If you’re going to pick up a gun, you ought to know how to use it.” He hefted the rifle and smiled at her. “Unless you’re afraid you can’t learn.” Sarah untied her apron and laid it over the rail. “I’m not afraid of anything.”

He’d figured a challenge would be the best way to get her cooperation. Sarah marched along beside him, chin up, eyes forward. He didn’t think she knew it, but when she’d held the rifle that morning she’d been prepared to pull the trigger. He wanted to make sure that when she did she hit what she aimed at.

From the rubble of the burned shed, Jake selected a few pieces of charred wood and balanced three of them against a pile of rocks.

“First thing you do is learn how to load it without shooting off your foot.” Jake emptied the rifle’s chamber, then slowly reloaded. “You’ve got to have respect for a weapon, and not go around holding it like you were going to sweep the porch with it.”

To prove his point, he brought the rifle up, sighted in and fired three shots. The three pieces of scrap wood flew backward in unison. “Bullets can do powerful damage to a man,” he told her as he lowered the gun again.

She had to swallow. The sound of gunfire still echoed. “I’m aware of that, Mr. Redman. I have no intention of shooting anyone.”

“Most people don’t wake up in the morning figuring on it.” He went to the rocks again. This time he set up the largest piece of wood. “Unless you’re planning on heading back to Philadelphia real soon, you’d better learn how to use this.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

With a nod, Jake emptied the rifle and handed her the ammo. “Load it.”

She didn’t like the feel of the bullets in her hands. They were cold and smooth. Holding them, she wondered how anyone could use them against another.

Metal against flesh. No, it was inconceivable.

“You going to play with them or put them in the gun?”

Because he was watching her, Sarah kept her face impassive and did as he told her.

He pushed the barrel away from his midsection.

“You’re a quick study.”

It shouldn’t have pleased her, but she felt the corners of her mouth turn up nonetheless. “So I’ve been told.”

Unable to resist, he brushed the hair out of her eyes. “Don’t get cocky.” Stepping behind her, he laid the gun in her hands, then adjusted her arms. “Balance it and get a good grip on it.”

“I am,” she muttered, wishing he wouldn’t stand quite so close. He smelled of leather and sweat, a combination that, for reasons beyond her comprehension, aroused her. One hand was firm on her arm, the other on her shoulder. Hardly a lover’s touch, and yet she felt her system respond as it had never responded to the gentle, flirtatious hand-holding she’d experienced in Philadelphia. She had only to lean back the slightest bit to be pressed close against him.

Not that she wanted to be. She shifted, then grumbled under her breath when he pushed her into place again.

“Hold still. Not stiff, woman, still,” he told her when her body went rigid at his touch.

“There’s no need to snap at me.”

“You stand like that when you fire, you’re going to get a broken shoulder. Loosen up. You see the sight?” “That little thing sticking up there?”

He closed his eyes for a moment. “Yeah, that little thing sticking up there. Use it to sight in the target. Bring the stock up some.” He leaned over. Sarah pressed her lips together when his cheek brushed hers. “Steady,” he murmured, resisting the urge to turn his face into her hair. “Wrap your finger around the trigger. Don’t jerk it, just pull it back, slow and smooth.” She shut her eyes and obeyed. The rifle exploded in her hands and would have knocked her flat on her back if he hadn’t been there to steady her. She screamed, afraid she’d shot herself.

“Missed.”

Breathing hard, Sarah whirled around. Always a cautious man, Jake took the rifle from her. “You might have warned me.” She brought her hand up to nurse her bruised shoulder. “It felt like someone hit me with a rock.”

“It’s always better to find things out firsthand. Try it again.”

With her teeth clenched, Sarah took the rifle and managed to get back into position.

“This time use your arm instead of your shoulder to balance it. Lean in a bit.”

“My ears are ringing.”

“You’ll get used to it.” He put a steadying hand on her waist. “It helps if you keep your eyes open. Sight low. Good. Now pull the trigger.”

This time she was braced for the kick and just staggered a little. Jake kept a hand at her waist and looked over her head. “You caught a corner of it.”

“I did?” She looked for herself. “I did!” Laughing, she looked over her shoulder at him. “I want to do it again.” She lifted the rifle and didn’t complain when Jake pushed the barrel three inches to the right. She kept her eyes wide open this time as she pressed her finger down on the trigger. She let out a whoop when the wood flew off the rocks. “I hit it.”

“Looks like.”

“I really nit it. Imagine.” When he took the gun from her, she shook her hair back and laughed. “My arm’s tingling.”

“It’ll pass.” He was surprised he could speak. The way she looked when she laughed made his throat slam shut. He wasn’t a man for pretty words, not for saying them or for thinking them. But just now it ran through his head that she looked like an angel in the sunlight, with her hair the color of wet wheat and her eyes like gold dust.

And he wanted her, as he’d wanted few “things in his life. Slowly, wanting to give himself time to regain control, he walked over to the rocks to pick up the target. She had indeed hit it. The hole was nearly at the top, and far to the right of center, but she’d hit it. He walked back to drop the wood in Sarah’s hands and watched her grin about it.

“Trouble is, most things you shoot at don’t sit nice and still like a block of wood.”

He was determined to spoil it for her, Sarah thought, studying his cool, unreadable eyes. The man was impossible to understand. One moment he was going to the trouble to teach her how to shoot the rifle, and the next he couldn’t even manage the smallest of compliments because she’d learned well. The devil with him. “Mr. Redman, it’s very apparent that nothing I do pleases you.” She tossed the block of wood aside. “Isn’t it fortunate for both of us that it doesn’t matter in the least?” With that she gathered up her skirts and began to stamp back toward the house. She managed no more than a startled gasp as he spun her around. She knew that look, she thought dazedly as she stared at him. It was the same one she’d first seen on his face, when he’d ridden beside the stage, firing his pistol over his shoulder. She hadn’t a clue as to how to deal with him now, so she took the only option that came to mind.

“Take your hands off me.”

“I warned you, you took too many chances.” His grip only tightened when she tried to shrug him off. “It’s not smart to turn your back on a man who’s holding a loaded gun.”

“Did you intend to shoot me in the back, Mr. Redman?”