Grace and the Guiltless

Chapter 12

Joe suggested he start by showing her how to find water if she wasn’t near a stream, but Grace declined. “I’d rather learn how to kill something. The way you did with the bison. Something hard to shoot.”

Joe shook his head. “You’d be better off learning about survival, like what plants to eat.” He gave her a stern glance. “Or not eat.”

Grace glared at him and crossed her arms. “Will you never let me live that down? I won’t make that mistake again.”

“Yes, but you’ll probably make another.”

“Let’s not argue. There’s too much I need to learn.”

Joe opened his pouch. “I found some bullets for your Colt when I was at the mercantile the other day. Now you have no more excuses about not having enough bullets.”

Grace bit back a sharp retort and forced herself to thank him, but his kindness weighed on her conscience. One more thing she’d have to pay him back for. She slid some of the bullets into the gun while Joe set up some targets. Then he came and stood beside her. “Let’s see what you can do.”

Grace’s arm felt much steadier than it had last time. She had done this with Pa; she could do it again and finally show Joe. Taking a deep breath, she fired.

The first shot went a bit wide but nicked the edge of the target. The report of the gun threw her back a bit and she tutted under her breath, but she waited until the black smoke cleared, then steadied her arm. She took a breath and aimed again.

Just slightly off center.

“That wasn’t bad,” Joe said.

Hmm, he thought so, did he? Wait until he saw her next few shots. She was just getting warmed up. Her sore arm throbbed, and her palms were still tender, but she gripped the gun, took her time aiming . . . then fired.

Bull’s-eye!

Grace turned and laughed to see Joe’s look of surprise.

“Just luck,” he said with a wink.

Grace let out a short scoff of indignation, then squeezed off a few more shots in succession. All of them hit dead center or very close.

“Whew.” Joe pretended to wipe off his forehead. “Sure glad you weren’t aiming at me.”

Grace raised an eyebrow. “I could be.”

Joe threw up his hands in mock surrender. “No, no. Please don’t shoot,” he said in a falsetto voice. “Besides,” he said, returning to his normal voice, “who’d teach you all the other things you need to learn?”

“Right,” said Grace. “So now that you know I can shoot, what’s next?”

“You know, you should do some competitions. Good way to earn money. But you have to learn the Fast Draw.”

“What’s that?”

Competitions and earning money sounded good to Grace. She needed to find some way to support herself — and pay Joe back. Once she had taken care of the Guiltless Gang . . .

Joe holstered his gun. “Watch.” His hand hovered above his gun, then he clicked his tongue and in one rapid motion, he slid the gun out of the holster, tilted his body back, and fired.

“Wow. How do you do that? You didn’t even take time to aim.”

“It takes practice, but it’s a great skill to have.”

“Show me,” Grace demanded.

Joe spent the next few hours demonstrating the technique. “In a competition you have to keep your hand in a ready position but can’t touch the gun until they give the signal. That’s why I’m making that clicking noise with my tongue. When I make it, you try.”

Grace learned quickly. She wasn’t as accurate as when she took her time and aimed, but she was getting the hang of it.

“You’re doing great,” Joe said. Then he added, “But you’ll never be as good as me.”

Grace gave his shoulder a gentle shove. “You think so? We’ll just see about that —” Then she clapped her hand over her nose. “Ugh, what’s that awful smell?”

Joe laughed. “At least I know it’s not me this time.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her behind a tree. “Watch and you’ll see.”

A pack of hairy pigs stampeded toward them. No, not pigs — they had tusks.

“Javelina,” Joe whispered.

Grace tensed. “Will they attack us?”

Joe shook his head. “Stay still. They have terrible eyesight. Chances are they’ll pass right by without seeing us.”

The stench grew worse as the animals charged through the clearing, snorting and grunting. Grace pinched her nose shut.

Joe waited until the last one had disappeared before stepping out from behind the tree. “They’re gone. But javelina aren’t usually dangerous, anyhow.”

“I remember now. My pa shot a javelina once . . .” Grace swallowed hard, remembering her father’s triumphant grin as he’d brought it home. “Ma had to cook it all day in a pit, but it tasted good. Like pork.”

Joe’s jaw tightened. “Some people do eat them, but —” he began.

“I just never knew what they looked like — or that they were so stinky!” Grace exclaimed. “I might not have eaten it if I had known.”

“Your pa must have skinned it right away, taken off the musk gland on its back. That’s what makes them smell so disgusting.” Joe glanced off in the direction the javelina had fled. “He did well to get one, though. They’re hard to kill because their tough hide can be pierced in only a few places.” He shook his head. “Not that you’d ever need to know that.”

Grace shivered thinking about getting caught in that snorting pack with their sharp tusks. “But what if they attacked?”

“Don’t worry. They won’t.”

“But what if they did?” Grace persisted. They certainly didn’t look harmless.

Joe pursed his lips. “Never let anything go, do you?” he said wryly but then continued. “Best way to defend yourself is to get them behind the collar, just above the front leg.” He made a circle with his thumbs and forefingers. “They have a spot about that big to hit. But they’ll go down right away if they’re hit in that place.”

“What if you miss?”

“They can stay alive for hours. But, like I said, you don’t need to worry about all that.” Joe motioned for Grace to move ahead of him onto the trail. “We should get back for the feast.”

They walked to the village in companionable silence. Inside, Grace was elated at how well she had done on her first session of training. But she still had to learn how to use the bow and arrow, tomahawk, knife, and rifle.

She would need to know everything she could in order to take on Elijah Hale and his pack of murderers.