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Gray sighed. “All right.”
He pulled on the reins, slowing the horses to a nice steady trot.
It had only taken a few short weeks to turn him from the most feared gunslinger around to a man who catered to the delicate constitution of a spoiled goat. He couldn’t imagine what the end of the month would bring.
Chapter Eighteen
Mercy had managed to stop cooking the meatloaf a few moments before it transformed into a lump of leather, and both men ate without complaint. Well, Jason wouldn’t have complained even if she’d served him actual leather, but Gray seemed to enjoy his meal rather than tolerate it, so she deemed everything a success.
After supper, Gray resumed his usual spot on the porch for his post-meal nap. Mercy cleared the dishes, thanking Jason when he brought everything into the kitchen.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked as she began to wash up.
“No thanks, I’ve got this. Why don’t you go out on the porch with Gray? It’s such a nice night. Probably won’t have too many more of these before the cold weather moves in.”
“All right, if you’re sure I can’t help.”
She smiled at him. He was such a sweet man. “I’m sure. Go on out.”
He grinned, giving her a little bow, and left her to the dishes.
Once she had everything cleaned up, she joined them. Gray, of course, was snoring in his chair. Jason, though, was polishing one of his guns.
“That’s beautiful,” she said, pointing to the gleaming metal.
“Thanks. Do you want to try it?” he asked, holding it out to her.
She glanced at Gray. He hadn’t moved a muscle, but his snores had softened into deep, regular breaths.
She knew what he would say. But as he wasn’t paying attention at the moment…
“Yes, please,” she said, carefully taking the gun from him.
“Let’s go over there, and we can do some target shooting,” he said, pointing toward the fence on the far side of the yard.
He lined up several apples along the fence line and then planted his feet, demonstrating how she should stand. She watched him for a few minutes. He didn’t get all the apples, but more than she would have, certainly. Then she stepped up to try.
Her first shot went completely wide and hit a tree several yards away.
“Oh!” she said, frustrated and dismayed.
Jason laughed. “No worries. This is why we are doing this out here and not where we might hit something we don’t want to. Try again.”
She took a deep breath and aimed again. This time the shot hit the fence, but a good three feet from the apple she’d been aiming at.
“Here,” Jason said, stepping closer to her. “Try this.”
He lifted her arms, showing her how to hold the gun. “See, if you hold it here, then you can look down through the—”
“Sunshine!”
They both turned at the sound of Gray barreling down on them.
“Yeah, Sheriff?” Jason asked.
“I thought you were going to call him Woody,” Mercy said with a laugh.
Jason grinned. “I decided I wanted to keep breathing.”
