Chapter Five
WHAT ARE THE CHANCES THAT driving into town, I’ll spy a gun store and be able to pull off a sneaky trip inside without Andie knowing?
Very good. Very, very good, in fact, because apparently pregnant ladies need to pee a lot and they like to shop for baby clothes, and in Oregon, baby clothing shops are sometimes located right down the street from gun stores. She totally bought my lies when I said I wanted to browse around the nearby wig shop while she was in the supermarket using their potty. We agreed to meet in the kid clothing place just down the street after.
I walk into the gun store and stop just inside, staring at all the firearms on display. There are what I assume to be hunting rifles all over the walls and a glass case near the register with handguns in it. A few aisles have other hunting type paraphernalia in them.
I walk over and stare down into the glass case. No one is here that I can see, but voices float over to me from down an aisle near the back of the store. The conversation filters through, and I listen in shamelessly.
“I’ve got a thirty ought six already. What I’d really like to try is the Mathews Creed short bow. Got any of those?”
“Yeah, I got one. The 2014, if you want to give it a shot. No pun intended.” The man giggles and I’m reminded of Dukes of Hazzard re-runs I watch when I’m in need of a quick redneck sizzle. I do love me some Bo and Luke in those tight jeans of theirs.
Is that Roscoe back there? I stand on tiptoes to try and see over the junk, but it’s too far back and too dimly lit to make anyone out.
“Yeah, let’s do it.”
Footsteps have me turning back to the glass case. I don’t want them catching me listening in on their conversation, so I frown at the hunting knives under the glass instead.
“I got it in the back. Just give me a sec and I’ll open up the range for ya.”
They’re almost to me when I hear the customer’s voice more clearly. My blood pressure spikes.
“What are you doing here, City? You following me?”
I turn around and act surprised. “What? Oh, hello, Ian. Fancy meeting you here.”
“This is getting a little creepy, don’t you think?” he asks. “You stalking me now?”
“Please. Get a life.” I roll my eyes, playing off the fact that my neck is blotching up as he speaks.
The man who was helping Ian glances at me as he walks by. His belly is very round and well insulated under a thick flannel shirt. “Can I help you, miss?”
“Yes,” I say, smiling with all the charm I have in my body, “you can. I’d like to buy a gun.”
He smiles back, fully facing me now, a little dazed-looking. “Well, aren’t you as cute as a bug’s ear.”
“Henry, you feeling okay?” Ian asks.
Henry’s smile disappears in a flash. “Hush up now, Ian, I’m having a conversation with the little lady here.”
I smile again, completely ignoring Ian. “Aren’t you sweet? Henry is it?”
“Yes, ma’am, I’m Henry. Henry Dawkins at your service. Did you have a particular gun in mind?” He moves behind the counter.
“Hey! I was here first!” Ian protests. “What about that bow?”
Ian is behind me, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of turning around. I resist the urge to elbow him in the gut.
Henry frowns at him. “Just keep your pants on, Ian. Ladies first.”
I look over my shoulder now that my triumph is complete. “Yeah, Ian. Ladies first.”
His lips thin and then his gaze drops to my feet. “Nice boots.”
I put my hands on my waist and stick out a hip, twisting left and right a little to show off my footwear. “You like? I call this country chic.”
Henry leans over to see what I have and looks hopeful. “You like Sorel boots, ma’am? Cuz I got a new shipment in of all the latest styles, prettier than the ones you got on now.”
“Aw, come on, Henry, don’t show her your boots! I’ll be here all day waiting!”
“So wait,” he says, coming around the corner to lead me over to another part of the store.
I follow along with a huge grin, knowing this is making Ian nuts. I’m going to buy some boots just to tick him off.
“See, right here,” Henry says, stopping in front of a small display that looks like an afterthought in the corner of the store. “I got purple if you like colors or you could just go with a more leather look.”
I check out his selection, surprised to see it doesn’t suck. I was going to buy a pair just to piss Ian off, but now I’m going to buy a pair because they’re going to look fabulous with my new jeans. “Do you have these in an eight?” I ask, holding up a pair with the cutest fur rim on the top. These babies’ll go all the way up to my knees, ensuring my legs will never be wet again in this godforsaken place.
“I sure do. Just have a seat right there and I’ll get ‘em for ya so you can try ‘em on.”
I sit down on a little wood stool and take one of Andie’s fugly boots off. Ian walks around the corner as I’m pulling up my sock.
“You know, I have things to do here.” He crosses his arms over his chest.
“I’m not stopping you.” I turn my attention to my cuticles. I can’t look at him. He’s too cute when he’s all fired up, and I need to stay strong.
“Yes, you are. You got Henry all worked up and now he’s never going to get my bow while you’re in here.”
“What do you need a bow for anyway?” I ask, looking up at him. “Going to run around town playing Robin Hood?”
“No, for your information, I’m going to shoot with it.”
“Shoot what?” I start to frown as I realize what we’re talking about. He’d better not say animals.
“What do you think, city girl?”
“Targets?” I know it’s not the right answer the minute it comes out of my mouth. That makes me sad.
“Wrong again.” He walks away and leaves me there.
I stand up and follow him, my one booted foot clomping, the other two inches shorter without the clodhopper on. “Shooting animals is murder.”
“Not around here it’s not,” he says, still walking. “Here it’s called feeding the family.”
“You have a whole ranch full of beef. You don’t need to shoot anything.”
“I like to shoot things.”
I stop following him at that. His sexiness just went right out the window for me. Instead of continuing the conversation, I return to my seat and wait for Henry.
Ian’s back in less than a minute. “What’s the matter? All upset now because some fuzzy animals are going to die?”
“Go away, Ian. You’re not funny.” Supremely disappointed, I refuse to look at him. Instead, I busy myself with the laces of my other fugly boot.
“It’s a fact of life out here, City, better get used to it. People have to eat.”
He makes me so mad, it’s impossible to keep ignoring him. “I don’t have to get used to killing animals, Ian. You can eat what you find in the grocery store.”
He laughs. “Do you even listen to yourself when you talk? Where do you think that meat comes from?”
“Not from the wild!” I say a lot louder than I probably should have.
He actually has the nerve to keep laughing. “Oh, yeah. That’s right. Because animals raised on farms and ranches are somehow different.”
I open my mouth to agree, but then stop. He’s twisting around what I mean to say and making it sound stupid. “I’m not going to play this game with you anymore, Ian. I’m done. Go away.”
“What’re you talking about? What game?” He’s not laughing anymore.
I sigh heavily before looking at him, blinking a few times. “Listen… I get that we had some chemistry before and I thought running around with you while I was here might be fun, but you can just cancel that plan because I don’t find murderers attractive in the least. You can be on your way now.” I wave him off with my fingers. “Go on. Scat. Go shoot a bunny or Bambi or something. I’ve got nothing left to say to you.”
He stands there and sputters for a few seconds before he finds his voice. “You are something else, you know that?”
I lift my chin. “So I’ve been told.”
Henry walks up with a large box in his hands, saving me from having to listen to Ian anymore.
“Here you go, ma’am. Size eight, just like you asked for. They’re water resistant, too.”
“Thank you so much, Henry,” I say, oozing charm. Opening the box I find the boots I liked inside. The first one fits like a glove and I can’t help but smile at how cute it is on me. “Absolutely perfect.” I put on the second Sorel. It’s gorgeous.
Twisting around and jumping up and down a few times tells me they’re just as comfy as they are cute. Double score. Usually I have to sacrifice one for the other, but not today. Baker City doesn’t suck quite so much right now, even though there are murderers living here.
“Come on up to the register and I’ll show you the guns. You can try out any that you like.”
I gather up the fuglies and put them in the box, wearing my new lovelies right past Ian. He’s become some sort of statue, just standing there scowling at me and Henry. I’m ignoring him completely.
“What do you mean I can try them out?” I put the boot box down on the floor by the cash register so I can see the handguns under the glass. “Like, just pull the trigger here in the store?” I look around but don’t see any bullet holes in the walls or anything. Maybe he has blanks I can use.
“We have an indoor range,” he says, smiling proudly. “It ain’t big, but it does the trick.”
“Cool! I’ve never shot a gun before.”
His smile slips just a little. “Oh, isn’t that … nice. And why are you buying the gun, may I ask?”
“Not to shoot anything,” I say. I try unsuccessfully to suppress the shudder that moves through me.
“Okaaaay…”
He’s apparently still waiting for an explanation, so I continue. “There are some lions out where I’m staying, so I just wanted some protection. You know … in case a lion tries to eat me or my friend. I’ll use the gun to scare it away.”
“Lions?”
Ian is behind me now, snickering.
I roll my eyes. “Never mind. Just show me the guns. Which one is good for protection?”
Henry looks down into the case. “From lions? Well … I suppose any of these could work if you hit the lion between the eyes. Do you think you’re a good shot?” He looks up at me, hopeful, possibly a little stressed too.
I nod enthusiastically. “I’m sure I will be. I’m a hair dresser.”
Henry stares at me. Now he has the statue problem that Ian had. Unfortunately, Ian doesn’t have it anymore himself. He’s standing at my side and pointing to something in the case.
“Show her that one.”
“The nine millimeter? Don’t you think that’s a little much for her?” Henry asks. His happiness is all gone. Now he just looks worried.
I frown at him. “Of course it’s not too much for me. I hold blowdryers and flatirons all day long. Have you ever done a two-hour blow-out? Because I have. Without breaks.” I snort. “Trust me, I can handle it.”
“Okay,” Henry says under his breath, “if you say so.”
A couple minutes later I’m standing at the end of a long hall, holding up the heaviest piece of metal I’ve ever had in my hand, and staring at a target. FYI, blowdryers are way lighter than handguns.
Ian is standing next to me, pointing at the paper that has black rings on it, and generally being annoying. “Just point and shoot. Pull the trigger. And be careful of the kick.” His voice comes to me muffled due to the fact that I’m wearing ear protection.
I totally feel like an FBI agent right now, with my legs spread and my arms out straight, gripping the gun. I’ll bet my butt looks awesome. “The kick?” I look over my shoulder at him. My arms are already getting tired from holding the gun up.
“It’s going to kick back with the force of the shot. Just be prepared for it.”
“Okay.” I squint at the target, holding the gun like I’ve seen FBI guys do it in the movies. I am so badass.
“That’s too high.” Ian says.
God, he’s so irritating! “How do you know?” I have one eye closed and the other squinting so I can see down the barrel of the gun to the far wall.
“I’ve been shooting since I was six, and unless your plan is to hit the light fixture over there, I’d lower it a little.”
I snort, but follow his advice. Before he gives me any more of it, though, I pull back on the trigger. I’ll show him who knows how to shoot a gun.
Even with ear protection, the BOOM is amazingly loud. And I know I was supposed to be prepared for the kick, but mentally preparing for something you’ve never experienced is way more difficult than you’d expect. The sound effects do not help.
The gun goes flying out of my hand and lands on the ground with a giant bang. It sounds like another shot, it’s so loud. Good thing I had my ear protection on.
Ian shouts behind me and then starts jumping all over the place.
“What is your problem?” I ask, sliding the ear muffs off. “I just dropped it, it’s not a big deal. It’s not broken.” At least I don’t think it is.
“You shot me! You f*cking shot me!” He’s screaming so loud, Henry comes in from the store.
My heart stops beating as I try to figure out if he’s just messing with me. Shouldn’t there be blood if I shot him?
“What happened?!” Henry yells, looking at the gun on the floor and then Ian.
“Oh, he’s being ridiculous,” I say, praying I’m right. Did I really shoot him? I don’t see any blood. There’s nothing but him acting like a human pogo stick. Boing! Boing! Boing! He’s pretty cranky too. I don’t think he’s faking that part.
“She shot me!” Ian says, pointing at me. He stops jumping around and stands on two feet, now gesturing to his lower leg. “See?!”
There’s a hole in the material near his ankle. When he lifts his pant leg, there’s a dark red mark on his skin, but no blood.
“Looks like you got grazed,” says Henry. He looks up at me. “How’d you manage that?” Then he looks out at the target. “Nice shot by the way.”
I look over my shoulder and see that I’ve nailed the target almost exactly in the center. I can’t help but grin like a fool. “Check me out.”
Ian’s voice goes up an octave. “You’re standing there all proud of yourself after you shot me?”
I look back at him, feeling loads better that there’s no blood and that I haven’t just killed my best friend’s brother-in-law. I’m a little dizzy with the relief, actually. But I don’t want him to know that.
“Hey, it was an accident, okay? I’m sorry I grazed you with a bullet. Geez.” I roll my eyes. “What a baby.”
He stands there staring at me with his jaw open. Then he laughs, but he doesn’t sound very happy. “You’re nuts, you know that? You’re dangerous. You need to just stay the hell away from me.”
“Oh, believe me, I plan to.” I ignore the sting of rejection. He’s a Bambi killer anyway. What do I care if he wants me to stay away?
“No, I’m serious. Stay far away. I’m too young to die.”
“Oh, please, stop being so dramatic. Besides, I already told you that you’re not my type and I have no interest, so just stay out of my way.”
“Hoo-hoo-hooo,” Henry chuckles, “y’all got some issues. When’s the wedding?”
“Shut up, Henry,” Ian growls. “You’re not funny. And you know what? You can keep your bow, too. I gotta go home and ice my leg.” Ian storms out of the practice room with an exaggerated limp, and I assume he leaves the store since I can’t hear him whining anymore.
“So, you like the gun?” Henry asks, a hint of a smile still on his face.
“Heck yeah, I like the gun. I hit a target and Ian MacKenzie with it already. I’d say it’s a keeper.”
Henry laughs until he’s beet red in the face. His belly jiggles around like a bowl of Jell-O. It’s both gross and fascinating at the same time. I can’t stop staring.
“I’ll just go start the paperwork. Feel free to shoot some more rounds if you like. Just watch the kickback next time.”
“Yeah, good advice.” I pick the gun up off the ground. This time when I point it at the target it doesn’t feel as heavy or as foreign.
“That’s right, lions,” I say mostly to myself as I raise it up and stare down the barrel. “Come at me now.”
I empty the clip, scoring more hits in the center ring, and then go back into the store to do the background check stuff. I am so going to be a badass with this baby on my hip and my new purple boots. Ian MacKenzie better just stay out of my way.