Free Lorenzo's Secret Mission by Lila Guzmán Page B

have a Spanish pillar dollar burning a hole in my pocket,” William said. “It tells me you will miss.”
    â€œI have a dollar that says I won’t.” I took slow, deliberate aim.
    Flint struck the pan, igniting the gunpowder. A second later … crack! The bullet hit the paper dead center.
    William whistled between his teeth and glanced at Calderón.
    I examined the gold coin William flipped in my direction and slipped it into my pocket.
    â€œGood shooting,” William said, scratching his blond hair.
    â€œIt’s no harder than hitting a squirrel in a tree,” I said.
    â€œâ€˜Course, that sure took long enough. Out in the woods, do you say ‘Hold it there, Mr. Bear. Don’t you move while I draw a bead on you, if you please. This may take a few minutes!’”
    â€œYou didn’t say you wanted speed
and
accuracy. That’s different.” I was already reloading.
    At the bark of my musket, men had come at a run from all directions. Spanish soldiers and Lambs gathered around us.
    William cocked a brow. “Gibson’s Lambs can fire three shots a minute and hit dead center each time.”
    â€œI can, too.”
    â€œThree shots a minute?”
    â€œFor the right amount of money.”
    â€œA dollar for every shot you fire in a minute.”
    â€œDouble that amount each time I hit what’s left of the paper.”
    William agreed.
    I knew something he did not. A musketeer in the King’s Rifles taught me to shoot when I was so small I had to steady the musket on a tree stump.
    Calderón pulled out his pocket watch and snapped it open. “Three shots in one minute, starting … now!”
    Knowing every eye was fixed upon me, I concentrated on the target and put their watchful eyes out of my mind. I fired, reloaded, fired, reloaded, and fired a third time, all in the allotted time.
    William stared at the target in disbelief.
    A shout went up from the Lambs.
    â€œCongratulations,” Calderón said in an amazed voice. His eyes held newfound respect. “I didn’t know you could shoot like that.”
    â€œHow do you think I made it all the way across Texas? By sheer luck?”
    â€œNo. I believe God looks after fools.” A grin spread across his face, lessening the insult considerably. Calderón had a strange sense of humor.
    â€œWell, gentlemen,” William said, laughing. “I’ve learned my lesson. No more gambling with Lorenzo. He’ll eat you alive, just like a gator.” He fished into his pocket, extracted six Spanish pillar dollars, and poured them into my upturned palm.
    I found their chink quite satisfying, but the murmured admiration of the Lambs was even more satisfying.

Chapter Seventeen
    Two days before Christmas, the courier returned from New Orleans. He stood by the flagpole and called out the names of those lucky enough to have received mail. He called my name twice.
    Holding my breath, I accepted the letters. One was from Colonel De Gálvez. The other from Eugenie.
    Colonel De Gálvez’s could wait.
    December 13, 1776, New Orleans
    Dearest Lorenzo:
    What joy to receive your letter. I hope mine finds you well. I miss you and your sweet smile. I wish you were here.
    Gibson is on his way home. Colonel De Gálvez released him two weeks after you left and put him on an American trading vessel bound for Philadelphia.
    The ship brought news of the war, all of it bad. The British landed in New York City and nearly captured General Washington. A twenty-one-year-old schoolmaster named Nathan Hale, a spy for the general, was hanged by the British. His last words were “I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country.”
    Governor Unzaga will soon retire. He wants Colonel De Gálvez to take over his position asgovernor of Louisiana. The salary is generous and will give Colonel De Gálvez enough money to start a family. He has written to King Carlos for permission