The Independent Bride (13 page)

“How do I shoot it?” Abby asked.

“You shoot a gun. You fire a rifle.”

“Why?”

“No good reason. It’s just what we say. Now take the shells out and I’ll show you how to hold it, aim, and fire.”

This was where it got tricky.

He attempted to show her everything standing at a safe distance, but she moved close to him, touched him as she peered over his shoulder. Giving up, he handed the rifle to her. “Here, you try.”

She immediately held the rifle in such a way as to guarantee herself a broken shoulder. There was nothing for him to do but take the stock of the rifle and place it properly against her shoulder.

“My arms aren’t long enough,” she said.

“They’re plenty long. You just aren’t used to holding them like this.”

He had to show her how to use her left arm to support the rifle. Then he had to show her how to place her finger properly on the trigger. And that was the easy part. After having his hands all over both her arms, he practically had to hold her in an embrace to show her how to line up the target in the sights of the rifle. He wasn’t sure how Abby was reacting to his being so close—he thought he could detect a slight change in her voice— but he was so strongly affected he couldn’t be sure he was seeing or hearing anything correctly.

Even his muscles refused to cooperate. He couldn’t hold the rifle steady. He could tell himself it was because he was holding it through Abby’s hands and they weren’t steady, but standing behind Abby, his chest touching her back, his arms cradling her in a tighter embrace man some then held their wives, reduced his muscle control to zilch. And increased his respiration and heart rates. His voice sounded unlike himself.

“Can I shoot it?” Abby asked.

“Fire it,” he corrected automatically.

“Okay, fire it.”

“It would be better to do that at the fort. We have a range for target practice.” With those words be stepped away from her. He held out his hand, but Abby didn’t give the rifle.

“Why not out here? There’s nothing around.”

“We don’t know that. A whole army of Indians could be hiding out there and you wouldn’t see them.”

“How? There’s nothing there but little bushes,” she said, indicating sage and rabbitbush.

“They’ve spent hundreds of years learning to hide behind those
little bushes.
I’d feel more comfortable back at the fort.”

“Will you teach me to hit the center of the target?”

“I thought you just wanted to know how to sell the rifle.”

“I do, but it would be fun to learn how to actually hit something.”

“What do you want to be able to hit?”

“I don’t know. Father used to go deer hunting. Maybe I will, too.”

“It takes a while to learn to shoot well.”

“I want to try anyway. It’s frustrating to spend half an hour listening to you talk about a rifle and not be able to shoot it at least once.”

“Okay. Why don’t you try to hit that cactus over there?” He pointed to a prickly pear cactus about fifty yards away.

“Is this right?” she asked when she placed the rifle stock against her shoulder.

“Fine. Now squeeze the trigger. Don’t jerk it.”

He waited while she went through her routine of aiming, changing her position, then aiming again. He was running names through his mind of soldiers who might have the patience to work with her when she fired the rifle, and another bud went spinning into space. “At least you’re in the vicinity of the cactus,” he said. “With practice you might—”

He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. Abby fired again and a third bud went flying. Then a fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh. She turned, a look of disappointment on her face. “I didn’t hit it even once.”

“You fake!” Bryce exclaimed, realizing he’d been tricked quite thoroughly. “You let me think you were a novice when you’re practically a sharpshooter. You intended to hit those buds instead of the cactus.”

“How could I do that?” Abby asked, assuming a look of outraged innocence. “I’m a helpless woman from the East. I’m afraid of guns.”

“I don’t know whether to hug you or turn you across my knee and give you a spanking,” Bryce said. “If I get a vote, I’d choose the first option.” And that was how he ended up with Abby in his arms. Having gone that far, it seemed only logical that he kiss her. Since he’d been trained since birth to be logical, that’s what he did.

It wasn’t much of a kiss, just a brush of his lips against her forehead. It surprised both of them too much to continue. The important thing was that it had happened at all, that she didn’t slap him, and he wanted to do it again. Fortunately, logic came to his aid. If he went any further along this logical course, he’d be in trouble. He made a rapid retreat.

“Congratulations,” he said, stepping away from Abby. “That was some of the best shooting I’ve ever seen.”

“Do you congratulate your soldiers like that?”

“Only my women soldiers,” he said, answering her smile with one of his own. “Where did you learn to shoot like that?” He didn’t care. He just needed something to get his mind off what he’d done.

“I used to tag along with my father every chance I got. That’s how I learned to ride and shoot. I got my first rifle when I was seven. We hunted at least twice a week even after we moved to St. Louis. When he started talking about going West, I practiced especially hard so he would take me with him. He didn’t, and I stopped shooting until I started seeing Albert. He considered himself a marksman. We used to shoot together. I made sure to lose at least half the time.”

“You are a dangerous woman,” Bryce said. “Maybe I should warn the Indians and the rustlers.”

“I hope you’re not angry. You’ve been so determined to convince me I don’t know anything about the West and can never learn, I couldn’t help teasing you a little.”

“Oman doesn’t know how lucky he is you couldn’t find the right bullets for that pistol.”

“Father never let me touch a pistol or a shotgun.”

“You probably won’t have time to master every weapon. I expect you’ll be fully occupied with your store most of the time.”

To his surprise, Abby didn’t appear to welcome being reminded of the store. Maybe she was finally realizing she faced a task far beyond her knowledge and experience. Maybe she was even considering going back to St Louis. He was disconcerted to find himself not only resigned to her staying but actually wanting her not to leave. He wasn’t sure why such a crazy attitude had overcome his common sense, but it had.

“I don’t suppose the store can take care of itself.” Abby sighed. “I’d forgotten how much I used to like riding with my father. We only rode down farm roads, but I always looked forward to it”

“I’m sure you can find some time, but you must never attempt to ride out alone.”

“Will you ride with me?”

“I can hardly believe how much I enjoyed it” Abby said, telling Moriah about her ride. “It’s not really so scary once you know what’s out there and what to expect.”

“You can never tell what to expect in a place like this,” Moriah said. “Dorrie says there are rattlesnakes.”

Abby wanted her sister’s full attention, but Moriah moved methodically through the store, straightening piles of shirts and rearranging cans and boxes into attractive displays.

“I didn’t see any snakes.”

“You don’t see them until they strike. Then it’s too late.”

“Well, I’m sure there’s no rattlesnake big enough to attack me while I’m on a horse. I can’t wait to ride to the mountains. They’re so big, they seem just out of reach. Bryce says they’re more than twenty-five miles away.”

“It’s a good thing you’ll be too busy to go in search of the wild beasts that hide in those mountains,” Moriah said.

“I’m not interested in wild animals,” Abby said, barely resisting the temptation to stamp her foot. “I just want to see the mountains. They look so beautiful covered with snow.”

“Dorrie says snow causes floods when it starts to melt. A flood nearly destroyed Denver four years ago.”

Abby was thoroughly irritated that she couldn’t communicate to Moriah any of the pleasure she’d had in the ride. She couldn’t even interest Moriah in the flowers Bryce said would soon burst into bloom.

Resigned, she said, “I think I’ll go through the rest of Father’s papers. I’ve got nearly everything straight.”

But it didn’t take long before she laid the papers aside. She couldn’t concentrate with the feeling of excitement continuing to sing in her veins. Maybe that wasn’t the right word, but she felt bursts of energy shooting all through her. It was as though she expected something to happen and could barely contain her excitement in anticipation.

But nothing was going to happen except that she would work until it was time to fix dinner. Later in the evening, she and Moriah would return to the store. If they managed to get everything on the newly built shelves, they could open tomorrow. She was pleased with the way the shelves helped display the merchandise, and she was looking forward to receiving customers, but the prospect of receiving their first customers wasn’t the reason for her excitement. It clearly originated from her ride. She’d been pleased she remembered how to ride and had quickly adjusted to the sidesaddle. She was even more pleased she felt less afraid, less like a stranger in an ugly and unfriendly land. Maybe most of all she was pleased at the prospect of being able to ride each day. Bryce had offered to assign a soldier to ride with her whenever she wanted.

When she started thinking of Bryce, a smile tugged at Abby’s mouth. That bothered her. Any woman would be impressed by a tall, muscular, handsome man in uniform, especially when he was the commander of a whole fort. She’d have to be dead not to feel a glow of satisfaction that he’d taken time from his work to pay attention to her, that he appeared genuinely interested in making sure no harm came to her. For a woman who’d lived in a household of women for fourteen years, it was almost like courting every time she saw him.

She’d depended on his protection as well as his help from the first, when she felt threatened by the unfamiliarity and danger of the West, overwhelmed by the task of running the store and handling the beef contract. She’d needed someone to depend on, even if he was helping more for his benefit than her own. She’d known she was attracted to him, thought he was attracted to her, but there had been something different about this morning.

She’d gone back over their conversation twice without being able to say exactly what it was. Maybe it was more in what
wasn’t
said. He’d spent the whole morning with her and never once made her feel she was taking up his valuable time, that he wanted to get this over and get back to his
important
work. He’d made her feel good about her riding. Not once had he acted as if a woman was too helpless to know anything about firearms.

She liked that he didn’t try to patronize her or offer her suffocating protection just because she was a woman, that he took for granted she wouldn’t fall apart. But none of this, as gratifying as it was, got to the kernel of what had happened out there, why things felt different, as if she expected something good to happen. She liked the feeling, but she needed to know where it was coming from. She didn’t want to go around with her head in the clouds, ignoring the real dangers and challenges that surrounded her.

She was determined to succeed. She just wanted to know why she suddenly was certain that she would.

“Is there anybody outside?” Moriah asked.

“It looks like a dozen people,” Abby replied after she peeped through the new curtains covering the store window.

“Then you might as well open the door.”

Abby was nervous as well as excited to be opening the store to customers for the first time. She hadn’t been able to restock the shelves, but all the merchandise was neatly displayed, with prices clearly marked. She’d also placed a piece of paper and pen within easy reach so customers could write down things they’d like to purchase in the store.

For the men she had wine, whiskey, beer, tobacco, canned fruit, and such pragmatic items as shoelaces, combs and soap, hats, boots, pants, and shirts. She also carried buttons, needles and thread, bolts of cloth, and lace. Her immediate objective was to satisfy the needs of the two hundred men and more than a dozen women at the fort. Her ambition was to draw people from the surrounding area because of the quality and variety of her goods.

Dorrie was the first person in the door. “I can’t wait to see how people react to what you’ve done with the store,” she said with a bright smile. “I brought every officer’s wife at the fort with me.”

Abby endured introductions to the seven women. She wanted to know what they thought of the store.

“We’re going to have a party to introduce you and your sister,” Dorrie said. “They wanted to do it when you came, but I convinced them to let you get settled first.”

“We aren’t anywhere near settled, but please feel free to wander about the store. I know we’re understocked at the moment, but I’ve set out pen and paper so you can write down any items we don’t have that you want us to carry.”

“I hope you have canned oysters,” one of the older women said. “My husband could eat a can a night if I would let him.”