Page 42 of Conveniently Wed
Edgar showed them both a rifle and a pistol, showed them how to tell if either was loaded or unloaded, let them feel the weight of each in their hands.
Then he showed Emma how to load and fire the pistol. The recoil threw Emma back a step, but he was there at her shoulder, showing her the correct way to reload and fire again.
He was so good with Emma. Like the older brother Daniel had never really been. By the time Fran had been old enough to understand, Daniel had been immersed in his studies and preparing for a career in law.
But it was clear to see that Edgar must dote on his younger sister.
He made Emma comfortable. Fran hadn’t been sure how her sister would react. But Edgar’s gentle teaching had somehow eased her. And after everything she’d been through, that was of utmost importance to Fran.
Then it was Fran’s turn behind the weapon. Her hands shook as she leveled the gun on the white scrap of linen Edgar had hung over a bush up against the bluff.
“Steady now,” he said.
She couldn’t stop thinking about what could happen if she ever had to shoot the thing at a person.
She started to lower the weapon, but he moved up right behind her, so close her bent elbow brushed the fabric of his shirt.
And then she was trembling for an entirely different reason.
Edgar felt the tremor go through Fran.
Having the shakes could get someone shot, so he put his arms around her from behind—she was so petite, the top of her head didn’t even reach his chin—and covered her hands with his, steadying her, guiding her to where he knew she’d be able to sight the target.
“Your hand,” she whispered.
“Hmm?” he asked.
“Is it…better?”
He imagined she could see it was still yellow and purple, still a little swollen. “The worst of the pain has passed. Go ahead.”
She shot once, the sound ringing in his head. She bumped back into him from the recoil.
She was still shaking.
He wanted her to relax a little. So he teased. “You might be worse than my ma when Pa taught her how to shoot.”
She tilted her chin and looked back at him. “I’d like to meet her.”
Looking down into her warm brown eyes, fringed with those sooty lashes and with that spray of freckles across her nose, he realized he was in trouble.
He knew she’d felt the attraction sparking between them when she’d fallen out of the wagon and into his arms. They both had.
Attraction or not, it didn’t change things between them. His past had taught him that he couldn’t trust a woman, not when his own birth ma had abandoned him.
“I’ve been thinking about what happens after I get the cattle to Tuck’s Station.”
She kept her eyes on the target, but spoke softly. “Oh?”
“I know a woman in Calvin—” Wait, that didn’t sound right.
She fired a shot. Miss.
He started over. “My ma frequents a seamstress in Calvin who is always busy. If she’s willing to take you and Emma on, it’ll be a start for you.
“How are your sewing skills?” he finished lamely.
She broke from his light hold and turned to face him, lowering the gun. “Passable. But I thought?—”
