Free The Trail Master's Bride by Maddie Taylor Page A

didn’t need words to express that she expected today’s shooting would be no better than the day before. He ignored her misgivings and started right in.
    “This is a Remington ten-gauge shotgun. It doesn’t require as much skill as the pistol, though you do have to be closer to your target. I’d prefer a long-range rifle, but you’re nowhere near ready for that. If you aim at the widest part of the body, you’re sure to hit something that will hurt and hopefully incapacitate.”
    “Why is that?”
    “Because of the scattershot I have loaded. Once it leaves the barrel, it splits apart and sprays smaller pellets at a high rate of speed. You’ll hit something, as I said, as long as your aim is close to the target.”
    He showed her how to hold it and all the different parts of the gun.
    “It has a bit of a kick, but I’ve got a light load, so maybe it won’t knock you on your backside. I’ll stand behind you for support just in case.”
    Frowning at his comment, he knew right away what she was thinking. “Don’t fret, Mina. I won’t let you land in the dirt. Go ahead and give it a try.”
    She wedged the butt against her shoulder as he’d demonstrated, bent her head, and sighted along the barrel. He noticed the tremble in her finger as it hesitated over the trigger. She did the worst thing she could do, next. She closed her eyes as she squeezed.
    Naturally, she missed, though she kept on her feet. Squinting at the cans he had lined up on a stump fifty feet away, her brows knit together. “I’m never gonna get the hang of this.”
    “If you can’t see your target, Mina, you can’t hit it. Try again with your eyes open this time.”
    She tipped her head back, her blue eyes wide. “I hadn’t realized I’d closed them.”
    Looking down the barrel once more, she fired. With a pinging noise, the tin can flew clear off the stump. “I hit it!” she cried excitedly. “Mr. Carr, did you see?”
    At her exuberance, he grinned down into her upturned face. “Sure enough, darlin’.” Wanting to hear his name from her lips, he added, “And please, call me Weston.”
    Her smile slipped a bit. “Oh, no. I don’t think that would be proper.”
    He laughed. “We’re in the middle of nowhere. I hardly think the propriety police are going to find out.” At her blush, he stopped teasing. “Let me show you how to reload and you can try again.”
    After a half an hour had passed, she had hit seven out of ten of her targets and become more comfortable with loading and handling the gun.
    “Well done, Mina. More than passable for a first time.”
    She beamed at his praise and it was all he could do not to pull her close and devour that tempting mouth.
    “What’s next?”
    “You gathering more fuel and getting supper on.”
    She rolled her eyes. “That’s all I ever do anymore. Gather buffalo dung and dead grass.” Her nose wrinkled up in distaste. “I think cold biscuits and bacon will do nicely for supper.”
    “Nope. We need to eat those bison steaks the Gillespies gave us or they’ll spoil. We’ll save the bacon for when we don’t have fresh game.”
    “It’s tough as old shoe leather and tastes about as good. Applesauce, biscuits, and bacon, I think.”
    “No, Mina. We can’t afford to let food go to waste. It’s a long haul to the next trading post at Fort Laramie. Cook the steak with the potatoes and onions into a stew and it won’t be so tough. I’ll join you right before dark.”
    He recognized the end of her good mood by the mulish set to her mouth and her flush of indignation. If he had the luxury to allow her a night off, he would. Food was food, nevertheless, and meat freely given a rare commodity. With his other duties, which included keeping an eye on Mina, he didn’t have much time for hunting. She’d have to manage. His orders given, he stooped to pack up his gear.
    “I think not,” she said, distinctly miffed. “What will you be doing while I’m sweltering over a hot fire?