Page 16 of Her Summer Hope

“I was…am. There haven’t been any replies to the ad over at the supermarket yet.”

Jimmy looked scandalized. “You put out an ad…for a chef?”

Kyle stared at him for a full five seconds. “Yes?”

Jimmy seemed to be having a stroke, or something that approximated a stroke. His face turned red and he was clenching his jaws and fists. He didn’t say anything, but it looked like he wanted to.

“I put it up at the supermarket in town. Wrote it myself.”

That didn’t seem to make the situation any better and Evans jumped up and led the irate chef back to the kitchen with a glare at Kyle. A moment later, they heard Jimmy bellowing about chili in his freezer.

Kyle ignored it and ate another bite of buttered biscuit.

“Maybe we had better ask around,” John said, coming in with a plate full of bacon.

“College,” Aiden said, much to everyone’s shock.

“What?” John asked.

“Check the college. They have a culinary school, don’t they?”

Kyle snapped his fingers. “That’s a damned good idea. John, get Evans on that.”

“Better not. He’ll just lure in all the girls, even the ones that can’t cook.”

Kyle scratched his chin. “Yeah…” He looked at Murdock, who lifted his chin and narrowed his eyes in warning.

No help there.

Murdock would send everyone five hundred miles in the opposite direction.

He took a sip of coffee and set it down. “John, I’ve got a mission for you.”

John groaned.

∞∞∞

Kyle was completely alone and the range was hot.

The weapon in his hands felt perfect, even though it was a civilian variant. The trigger squeeze was smooth and the reset was slick. All it took was a quick brush, release, brush, release—he barely had to move his finger.

The paper targets were brutalized as he double-tapped each one in succession before jogging down the trail and taking them out on the move. Run and gun wasn’t really his style, but he liked the challenge of it, and he had the ammo to spare.

He didn’t want to get rusty.

When he was out of full magazines, he dropped the rifle so that it dangled on its sling. He sidestepped as he pulled his sidearm and continued the assault on the paper army.

When he ran through two mags of .45 caliber ammo, he finally called it quits.

The range was one of his own construction, about half a mile from the chalet. There were two berms on either end, one to help block the sound from traveling, and the other to catch the lead.

He policed up his brass and his paper after chugging some water and wiping the sweat from his forehead.

The guys all used the range whenever they wanted. They were all highly trained and wanted to stay in fighting shape. Eventually, the guests might be able to use it as well, provided they signed a release and didn’t have any negative association with the sound of gunfire—which, to be honest, was highly unlikely for most of them.

He was back at the house when Murdock approached him with a grim expression on his face.

“What now?” Kyle asked.

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