Page 30 of True Valor
Nic watched the wheels turn.The colordrained from her face.
“The nails.Oh, Nic.He booby trapped thecabin.”Her gaze shot to the door, and she launched to herfeet.
Nic followed suit, pushing himself tostand.
She stood for a time at the door, examiningthe board of nails, still stained with his blood.
Nic made it to stand beside her before herealized his error in getting up so fast.Dizziness encompassedhim, like moths around a flame, forcing him to lean heavily againstthe door.It was a good thing he came through the door first.
“It would havekilledme.”Juliewhispered, reflecting his thoughts in her words.“Hey, youokay?”
“I just got up too fast.”
“Yeah, sure.That and you’re about a quartlow.”Julie reached around him.“C’mon, let’s get you back tobed.”
“Not before you answer my question.Did yourdad store any weapons here?”The room spun before him.If he didn’tsit down right now, he’d fall down.Crap.
Nic slid down the wall.
“Nic!”
“I’m okay.”With his head between his knees,the dizziness and nausea subsided somewhat.Julie hovered besidehim.He held his hand up, forestalling more concerned fluttering,and worked to catch his breath, his chest and shoulder throbbing.“Weapons?”
“Oh, actually, there probably are.”
Will wonders never cease?
“Really?”
Nic looked around for a gun cabinet.“Where?”
“In the safe upstairs.”
“Good.I’ll tell you what.You go get anyweapons in the safe and all the ammo you can carry and I’ll getmyself back to bed.Deal?”
That was easy enough, wasn’t it?It would beif the room didn’t spin every time he tried to stand up.Damn itall.Crawling was so not what he wanted to do but the result wasthe same.
Julie came down the stairs just as Nicreached the bed on hands and knees.She slowed down, giving him theopportunity to pull himself onto the bed before she approached,dumping her cache beside him.At Nic’s astonishment, she grinnedand winked.
“Dad liked guns.Mom and Jenn didn’t.You’rebleeding again.”
Julie insisted that she re-bandage his woundbefore they talked about the guns.Nic chaffed at the delay.
“And how do you feel about guns?”
“Me?”Julie put away the first-aid kit andpicked up the 9MM.“This one’s okay.I can hit a porcupine with itfrom a distance.”Reaching for the .357, she flipped the chamberopen and spun it.“This one’s my favorite.It’s heavier and kicksmore, but I like a revolver.”
“And you’re shooting porcupines, why?”
Julie waved away his concern.“Oh, I haven’tkilled a porcupine for several years, Ranger Nic.Besides, thelittle buggers are hard to kill.You have to hit ‘em justright.”
When his concern turned to dismay, she added,“They kill all the baby trees.”
It really was a fine arsenal arrayed beforehim.The .357 that Julie held in her hand, and the 9MM she could“hit a porcupine” with, were both Smith and Wesson, both in greatshape.Actually, all of them were in good shape.Her dad had takengood care of them.Nic picked up the rifle, running his hand overthe smooth stock.
“That’s a .22.We use that for plinking—youknow, target practice.It’s really not good for killing anything.Too wimpy.Now this,” Julie laid down the handgun and lovinglypicked up the 12-gauge pump-action shotgun, “this’ll stop ‘em intheir tracks.And the 30-06 is sweet.”
Clearly she knew her weapons.Nic smiled andlaid his head back as she babbled.She was on familiar andcomfortable ground.“Course, I’ve always thought that the meresound,” she racked the slide and smiled at him for effect “woulddissuade anyone with half a brain...”
