Caught before he was ready, Wes took aim and pulled the trigger. He hit the first one but missed the second. “Cheat.”
“All’s fair. Go again.” Changing the angle of the release, she put two more targets in the air for him.
High-Riding Heroes
This time he broke both of them and grinned as he turned toward her.
“Three.”
“Oh, a hot-dogger.” Leaving the angle the same, she loaded three, one single near the top and two lined up near the bottom.
That ought to throw him,
she thought as she waited for his signal and set them loose.
The top single one pitched high and to the left. The two on the low end split and one sailed straight and high, the other to the right and low.
His body tight and positioned, he moved smoothly and swiftly, plowing through them, one, two, and three.
“Beautiful show. Again?”
He nodded, loading, and for the next ten minutes, Wes showed her his skill with the shotgun. He easily downed most of the targets with a swift twist at the waist, a keen eye, and a fast hand. Victoria anxiously waited her turn.
When he moved to the release to set up for her, she informed him,
“International rules now. Doubles.”
At his look, she explained. “Shotgun at your hip. Signal for release and take aim after the birds are in the air.”
“All right. Whenever you’re ready, Annie Oakley.”
Flashing a mischievous grin at him, she positioned the shotgun at her hip.
“Pull.”
As soon as she spotted the discs she jumped the gun to her shoulder and swung it to the first bird and through. Never stopping the movement of the gun, she picked off one and then the other just as it dove toward the wild plum thickets that dotted the hillside.
“Damn. Let me try that.”
“No way. You pull so I can show off for a while. Go on, set it up again.”
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She was good at this. Let them all know it. Some of the men had straggled up the hill at the sound and were watching. She had even seen some money exchange hands. She handled the gun expertly, the pride in her stance and ambition shining in her eyes.
Wes pulled and Victoria shot. Forty-eight birds bit the dust…in a row. She wanted fifty straight with no misses. This was when she always got antsy. And the crowd had grown. She had to make this last shot. Her arms were tiring. It had been a while since she had used a shotgun. And once she hadn’t snugged it quick enough and she had taken a slam low on her shoulder. She could feel the bruise forming.
Shaking her arms to free them of the clenching muscles, she loaded two shells under and one in the chamber. A nod and he set the clay pigeons free.
The sound of her shotgun exploding was nearly drowned out by the hoorahs, whistles, and applause from the crew.
Victoria held her gun over her head and yelled Indian style. It was a very unladylike war whoop. Now, let those bullies think she was just a wimp from the East. Let them talk that one over at their Saturday night poker game. She hoped it wouldn’t be long before good ole Buck heard the story. And she was sure, in a week’s time, the total number of shots in a row would have multiplied to some stupendous number.
Wes walked over and shook her hand and then, dragging her into his arms, swung her around and around. The men were still cheering when Wes lost his balance and they both fell to the ground. Another, even louder whoop rose from the men.
“Now, woman, we’ll try guns you’re not familiar with. If you show me up with those, I’ll resign and you can take over the position of head honcho to this sorry bunch of rowdies.”
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That sorry bunch of cowboys was disappearing over the hill.
The show was over for now. Now that the lady sharpshooter was sprawled on the grass with the big man.
“Let me up, and you’re on.”
Wes looked up to be sure the men had scattered and shook his head. She was beautiful lying half beneath him, fringed in blue-stem grass and cushioned by the rich green carpet beneath. “Not yet. Not yet.”
The smile left her mouth as she realized he was about to kiss her. Her heart was pounding against her ribs and she wasn’t sure it was from the excitement of the match
unless the match was his lips playing with hers, teasingly light, and then the tip of his tongue tracing their curve.
It felt good. So right. No matter that she doubted herself and doubted him. It was time to just go with it. She wanted to make him feel as she did. Running her hand up the back of his neck and through his hair, she pulled his mouth down on hers hard and parted her lips.
The earth melted away. The prickly grass that tickled her arms softened to silk and caressed her skin. Heat rolled through her as he took what she offered and returned it, hotter, harder, and swifter.
Jeans brushed jeans, cotton shirt glided over cotton shirt. He slid his hand down the satin column of her throat and across her collarbone and down, skimming across the gentle swell of her breasts.
One hand in his hair and one reveling in the hard line of muscles up and down his back, Victoria felt herself falling into a world of fire and speed foreign to her. The rising morning sun added to her fear that the field might burst into flames any minute.
So this was it. It had to be. No woman had made his blood course at such a speed. No female had ever lifted him from the bounds of earth to a place where
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he only drifted, aware of only the taste of her, the feel of her body melding with his. He wanted her but not only in the way a man wants a woman. He never wanted to be too far away from her to reach out and touch her.
He never wanted to be out of hearing range or out of sight. She was slowly becoming part of him, the very vital, extremely important point of his reason.
He reared his head, looking at her with eyes dark and anxious. “You know, you kiss as good as you shoot, lady. Right on the mark.” He thought it had to be this way. He had to want her, need her more than any woman before, because it had never felt like this. Not even come close. He was a grown man and had never known the kiss of someone he loved.
She lifted her shoulders and moved her lips over his jaw, nipping as she went. “Unless you want to be ravaged out here on the hillside, I suggest you remove your body from mine and stand up,” she teased, breathless and afraid her words were too true.
“You wouldn’t do that,” he dared, catching her earlobe between his teeth and continuing his feast along her cheek on his way back to her lips. It was as if someone had thrown a book in front of him years ago and he had never bothered to open it. Now as the pages fluttered in front of him, he realized he had never seen the words before. What a shame she hadn’t come into his life a decade ago.
All that time wasted…the happiness lost. Not anymore.
She gave him a playful shove. “At this point, I don’t know what I would do.”
Because she deserved more than making love in the sunshine, where they could be discovered at any moment, he yanked her up and pulled her back into the wonderfully warm and slightly trembling circle of his arms. When they made love, and they would, the time would be right.
“Now I bring out the big guns.” He smiled to himself. She wasn’t even ready for the courting she was going to get. This lady didn’t trust. He would teach her.
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For a moment she looked confused and then he pulled her by the hand over to where he had placed his .30.30 and .357
magnum.
Standing behind her, he put the gun with the eight-inch stainless steel barrel in her hands. She tested its weight. Then with his hands and arms supporting her, he aimed at the targets he had nailed against the stands. Amazing. The feel of his body curling against her back, her bottom, and her legs. His warm breath at her ear threatened her aim and concentration.
It was a different feeling from any she had ever known. Auras merged. It was as if every piece on a chessboard was lined up just right for the kill; as if she had the last king on the checkerboard and was about to jump six of his pieces.
And only the fitting of their bodies together, here in the open with prairie breezes pushing past them did this?
“Take aim and fire when you’re ready, but…it’s going to kick and deafen you at the same time. It’s the long barrel. Either you can cock it and you have a hair trigger or you can just squeeze the trigger.” He was about to drown in her.
The arms he supported her with wavered only slightly. Blood pounded through his veins and he thought his heart might burst.
He had known she fit to him, but not how well. He had known her kisses would send him soaring, but not how high. The lilac fragrance of her hair made him want to take her to the ground again. The knowledge of that was almost a threat to him. Almost. Caution was about to be thrown to the wind. The female scent of her soft skin and the strong grip of her hands, beneath his, threatened to push him over the edge of reason. Forcing his concentration back to the target area, he nearly lost it again when she was pushed back against him discharging the first bullet from the gun.
Grin wide, she looked back at him. “Wow.” She wiggled in his arms. “Let me try it on my own.”
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“Sure, after you fire the other five rounds first. This is called practice. Keep your arm straight, support the gun butt like this with your other hand. Look down the ventilated sight plane and plug that target…in the middle,” he teased.
Bracing her legs farther apart, she adjusted herself straight on to the target.
This time she cocked it and brushed the trigger. Right of the center. One, two, three, four more. The sixth one dead center. “Could have placed them all in the bull’s-eye if someone hadn’t been waving me off target.” And if she hadn’t felt the hard wall of his body each time she gave with the shot.
Even though the cylinder of the handgun was empty, he stayed in the firing position with her in his arms. “Have you ever been regressed? I’m beginning to think you’ve been reincarnated and you were William F. Cody in another life.
Maybe that’s why you love this place so much and just maybe why you can shoot like this.”
She laughed, turning her face back toward his, his chin at the top of her head. “Couldn’t be I’m just good, could it, Cooper?”
“I don’t think so.” He let go of her then, even though it was the last thing he wanted. Showing her how to load, he handed her the gun and stepped back.
Her jeans fit snugly over slim hips and rounded buttocks. He wanted to trace his hands over the lines. The sound of her blasting away at the target grabbed his attention. She splintered the corner of the board and then homed in and circled the target.
“I love this. Now the Winchester .30.30.”
Shaking his head, he picked it up and put it in her hands. “And this afternoon I want to show you how to smooth out your riding and then in about a month we’ll start the barrel pattern.”
“Barrel pattern?”
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“Yep. You’re just the right weight to ride a horse well in that event. Ever thought of rodeoing?”
She levered the rifle, aimed, and pulled the trigger, finding the target. Again and still again. Laughing, she answered his question.
“Why a month, and what do you mean smooth out my riding?” She reloaded.
“You still tend to ride English. You give too much with your legs and you almost post. This is the West. You ride smooth and easy, sitting back in the saddle and putting your weight there. You’re more in tune with the horse riding Western. In my opinion, the smaller the saddle gets, the less connection you have with the horse. We’re not chasing some damn fox
with hounds yapping at our heels.”
“Oh, we’re not. That’s fine with me. Since I taught you to shoot skeet International, it’s only fair you teach me to ride Western well. But don’t think I’ll be bad at it.”
“You think you’re something, don’t you?” he teased.
She leveled the rifle and then caught it over her arm, flipping the safety on.
Turning halfway, she frowned. “No. But I want to be something. I want to be…”
“A cowgirl?”
“Through and through.”
Taking the rifle from her, he planted a kiss on her nose. “Done showing off for now?”
“Thanks, Wes. I had fun. Don’t be too hard on me when we do the riding.”
“I’m going to be real hard on you. You want to be the best and I’m the one to teach you, but you’d better grow a thicker skin and get used to not taking offense. I want you to be the best, too.”
“Do I do that?”
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“You bristle up from time to time.”
“Maybe it’s the way you teach. Maybe you expect too much too soon or maybe you simply don’t like a female being as good as you. I blew you away at trap.”
“In your lifetime, you couldn’t be as good as me.”
She popped him then, good and hard in the shoulder.
“Ow. What a charley horse. I’ll have a knot for a week.”
When had the camaraderie set in? She didn’t know but they were easy with each other. Comfortable and she liked it. She also liked the excitement that hovered around them, nudged her nerves alive, and she liked the way the man enjoyed life.
Gathering up the weapons, they headed back toward the buckboard they had used to haul everything up there. Once on the seat next to him, she stopped him from tapping the reins against the horses’ rumps to start the drive back.
“You know, I can almost feel them,” she told him as she looked around.
Many times she had walked up this hill and many times she had wondered what had gone on, years before, right where she stood now, exactly on this spot of earth.
Wes nodded. “The Indians, the pioneers, the outlaws, and the settlers. Me too. Just about where we are now a small church once stood. It’s said that the preacher taught the Indians all about the white man’s god. For years they listened and believed and then the other white men showed up. The ones who wanted the red man’s land and weren’t willing to pay for it.”