Charlotte frowns beside me, confused. I can’t believe she actually bought that lie ’bout Nate.
“You shoulda left ’em behind,” Jesse says.
“And let ’em watch which way I rode out? Leave ’em to go ’bout their days with that knowledge, when we know damn well them Rose Riders don’t let nothing rest? They’d fish it outta the kids. They’d catch ’em and get that info, and then where would we be?”
“Then you shoulda—”
“No, Jesse. I shouldn’t’ve. And you know it. It’s easy to say that, but you wouldn’t’ve been able to do it neither.”
“To protect us, I could’ve.”
“They’re kids, dammit! They’re even younger than we were when we got in our mess, and at least we counted on each other. But they got no one.”
Vaughn flinches beside me, like the reality of the situation is hitting her at long last. I’d argue we ain’t kids and haven’t been for quite some while, but Jesse’s implication that Kate woulda been better off killing us strikes fear.
It’s funny. I thought Kate were the one without a nurturing bone, and now here she is, proving she’ll make a fine ma, protecting the needy and all that. It’s Jesse Colton I gotta worry about. I’d’ve pegged him a trusting, jovial fella based on his demeanor that day on the Lloyds’ farm.
“And who did that family have to count on?” he continues. “I were there barely a week before the massacre. I say we shoot the Kid and be done with it, then bring the girl to town tomorrow. Hell, she can collect the Kid’s bounty if she fancies it, but I want ’em both gone. They ain’t nothing but complications, and we’ve always been fine on our own.”
“Aw, horseshit, Jesse! I can recall a time you’d be dead had I not brought a ‘complication’ into our circle. Now do you trust me or don’t you?”
There’s a long pause.
“I trust you.”
“Then promise me you’ll be civil. We can figure a way outta this. Together.”
“How?” he asks. “Have ’em live here forever? ’Cus that’s the only solution that guarantees us safety, and I ain’t fond of it.”
“Everyone’s got something they want above all else. I reckon the Kid’s and ours align.”
“Yer saying he wants free of the gang? He wants ’em disbanded?”
“Disbanded ain’t the half of it. Wrongs don’t disappear when people split. The only way he’s gonna be truly free of his past is if they’re all dead.”
“Same goes for us.”
“That’s what I’m saying. We got the same wants, us and the Kid. If’n we strike the right deal, everyone’ll part ways happy.”
“So it’s time we finally use it?” Jesse asks.
“I reckon so.”
I’m guessing it is some coin I ain’t seen, but it don’t matter. I ain’t taking their money. I ain’t taking nothing that forces me to face down the rest of the Rose Riders. Call me a coward and a snake and a good-for-nothing yellow-bellied bastard, but I ain’t drawing on Luther Rose for all the money in the world.
“Vaughn,” I say, turning away from the door. “Lemme teach you that rifle.”
“But Kate forbade shooting.”
“We’ll stick to form, then, and aiming.”
Dawn’s soft light is just beginning to spread over the land outside. It ain’t much to see by, but if Vaughn’s got the best ears among us and is gonna hear threats while we sleep, it’s damn important she gets the basics learned.
Her eyes dart to the bedroom door, as if to say, You don’t want to listen to this?
But I’ve heard plenty. The Coltons ain’t been careful to keep their voices down, which means none of it’s a secret or words they won’t repeat to our faces when the time comes for ’em to play their cards. I gotta step away and figure what card I aim to play back.
“You wanna learn or not?” I ask.
“I do.”
“All right, then. Outside.”
“Right here. The butt’s gotta be firm ’gainst yer shoulder pocket.” I illustrate on myself, pressing my fingers into the depression below my collarbone. “The recoil’s gonna hurt worse if you hold it loose. Also, quit lowering yer sight to the barrel. Remember what I said? You bring the barrel up to yer line of sight. Yer shooting the rifle, the rifle ain’t shooting you.”
She nods and tries again.
We been practicing like this for the last half hour or so, Vaughn bringing the stock up to her shoulder and the barrel to her sights, then lowering it. Over and over again with the emptied Winchester, only it ain’t getting any more natural. We’re gonna be out here all day. She’s overthinking everything ’stead of letting her body learn the motion and just . . . move.
“Yer thinking too much.”
“How else am I to do it?” she huffs. “There are a lot of steps.”
“You gotta trust yerself a little. Have some faith in yer own limbs.”
Vaughn lowers the Winchester and glares at me, peeved. This tough talk—the same way Boss helped me perfect my own aim—ain’t helping with her.
“When you write,” I say, searching for an example she can relate to, “do you sit there laboring over every last word?”
“Sometimes,” she admits.
“And that works?”
“No, not typically. Sometimes I take twenty minutes to craft a single sentence, and then it won’t even be a good sentence, at that. But other days I let myself make mistakes. I write and write and worry about making it shine later.”
“Then look at this the same way. You can focus on each step so precisely that it’s all a waste. Or you can just trust yer hands to do it right.”
“That is the worst analogy I’ve ever heard. Writing and shooting have nothing in common.”
I motion at the bucket I placed a few paces off to serve as a target. “Just aim again. And for the love of God, quit thinking so hard.”
“I’m trying.”
“Try harder.”
“But that requires thinking.”
I throw a hand up. “God Almighty, I can’t win.”
Her lips pinch into—I’ll be damned—a smile. I ain’t seen such an expression since she pointed a finger at our crew in that Wickenburg saloon and got me tied to the Jail Tree, but that smile was vengeful. This one’s different . . . pure and loose. It makes her whole face light up. I ain’t never looked at her proper, I realize, and now the looking’s making my stomach pinch up funny.
There’s a creak behind us, and Kate waddles off the front stoop, her hand supporting her belly. “I’ll do the teaching from here.”
“You just remember everything I taught you so far,” I say to Vaughn. “I ain’t a bad teacher. I know what I’m talking ’bout.”
“Jesse wanted to talk to you,” Kate says by way of a dismissal. “Inside.”
Swell. The man who aimed to shoot me just earlier wants to see me alone.
Kate turns her attention to Vaughn and starts her lesson. “It’s all in yer head, see? You gotta be quicker than quick. Ace-high. The best.”
What a load of horseshit. It’s ’bout getting outside yer head, living free of yer own constraints. Lord help us if trouble comes calling and Vaughn is the only one to hear it ride in.