Finn

by Chris Keniston

  "Oh." Her city girl was showing. Deep down she'd hoped, like with fixing the fences, that she'd have a chance to show Finn how useful she could be on the ranch. "What about you?"

  He pulled out another pair and smiled. "Me too." Next he retrieved a gun that reminded her of an old west revolver from TV, except this one's barrel looked a little longer than what she would have expected.

  "This," he held the gun out, "is not loaded." She watched carefully as he rolled the cylinder looking thing that she knew held the bullet, away from the base of the gun, then slid his finger in. "When you're loading a gun, you always do it like this so the cylinder doesn't slide back in and accidentally discharge. The last thing you want is to shoot your foot off."

  "No. I like shoes too much."

  Finn chuckled and shook his head. He proceeded to explain all the safety precautions and how-tos of the weapon then placed it in her hand. "You'll want to hold it like this. Unlike TV or the movies where both hands are on the grip, you'll want to have your left hand under your right for stability."

  Carefully wrapping her fingers around the handle, she rested her right hand on the palm of her left. "Like this?"

  "Exactly like that." He smiled. "Now see that oil can over there?"

  An oil can rested on a long bench halfway between her and the barn. "When did you set that up?"

  "Before lunch." He grinned. "I had a few minutes."

  Lord, how she loved this man. And blast, how she wished this was easier.

  "All right. Remember what I said about squeezing the trigger. Use the sites at the end to aim for the can, and shoot."

  Joanna wasn't sure she could tell the difference between gently squeezing the trigger and just pulling it, but she did her best. When nothing happened and the can didn't move, she frowned, slipped the headphones back. "This isn't going to be easy, is it?"

  "You'll get the hang of it. Two things though."

  She nodded, and held her arms and the gun straight out in front of her.

  "One. Put your tongue back in your mouth."

  "My tongue is in my mouth."

  "It is now, but it wasn't before."

  Raising her hand as though she were going to aim and shoot, she sited the can and heard Finn chuckle. Sure enough her tongue stuck out of the side of her mouth like a tired bulldog. "All right my tongue may have been out. But it helps me aim. I think."

  "I promise you there is absolutely no connection with your tongue and your aim. Besides, there's not any real kick to a twenty-two, but if you grow into a large gun that does have a kick to it when you fire, you could bite your tongue off."

  That was an unpleasant thought. "Got it. What was the other thing?"

  "Don't close your eye."

  "Okay." She carefully lowered the gun at her side and turned to face him. "My eyes were not closed. I can't possibly aim with my eyes closed."

  Shaking his head, Finn chuckled again. "Not eyes. Eye. One."

  Again she went through the motions of aiming and again, he was right. Her tongue came out to her right and her left eye shut at the same time. "Grr," she groaned. "Let's try again."

  Settling the protective gear over his ears again, Finn stood behind her as she fired at the small can. She emptied the chamber, then lowered the gun at her side and turned to her teacher. "How did I do?"

  "Let's take a look." Finn trotted over to the can and back with a big grin on his face. "Not bad."

  It took a second for Joanna to see the holes. She counted three and squealed. "Did I do that?"

  "Yes you did."

  "That's good? Right?"

  Still grinning like a cat with a full tummy of cream, Finn nodded. "You know that expression, can't hit the broadside of a barn?"

  Joanna nodded.

  "It's true. There are people who can't aim to save their lives. You did great. Want to do it again?"

  Joanna bobbed her head and waited for Finn to reset the can before loading the gun under his supervision. All set, they readjusted the earphones, she lifted the weapon, took a second to bite down on her teeth so she wouldn't stick out her tongue, but struggled keeping both eyes open to aim. "Keeping my eyes open is going to be harder than hitting the can."

  "You can do it, beautiful."

  Good thing her tongue was securely in her mouth or she might have bitten it off. First he tells his aunt that she's pretty and now he calls her beautiful. A girl could too easily get use to this. All of this. The simpler life, the great outdoors, the family all around, and of course, she smiled, shooting guns.

  She fired once, took aim, twice, and again and again until the cylinder was empty. Finn trotted over and back and this time presented her with a can with five new holes. So excited, she threw her arms around his neck and squealed in his ear before letting go and stepping back quickly when she realized what she'd done.

  Instead of finding Finn quiet and in awkward mode like last night, he was relaxed and smiling at her. "Looks like I've got another Annie Oakley."

  "I have no idea who she is, but if she can shoot, absolutely."

  His grin grew wider as his head bobbed. "She can shoot."

  "Can we go again?"

  Finn laughed out right. "I've created a monster." Without another word he set the target up and stood behind her. If it meant keeping him close, Joanna could stand out here shooting guns until Texas ran out of cows.

  Chapter Twenty One

  Trees were not a common sight in West Texas, but every so often a lone oak or two that someone's grandmother planted survived the heat and the drought and offered a generous covering of shade. This big old oak past the barn was one of Finn's favorites. As kids they'd climbed it, swung from it, jumped from it and as older and wiser teens had cooled off under it, picnicked under it, and napped under it. Today Finn was grateful his aunt had insisted on a blanket and afternoon snack.

  Stocked with fruit and cheese and crackers and chilled lemonade, they'd taken a break from shooting practice. He hadn't expected Joanna to be so enthusiastic about it. She'd done well, but pushed to do better. What should have been just a short while of lessons and practice had turned into almost two hours and the last round, every single bullet had found the can.

  "Your aunt really is an amazing woman." Joanna popped a grape in her mouth.

  "You won't get any argument from me."

  "I'm glad she thought of the basket. I didn't realize how much the sun zaps your strength."

  "Which is why we start working cattle before sun up. It's just too dang hot to deal with them in the middle of the day." Cows apparently felt the same way, often huddling under a single shade tree or lean to.

  "What can I shoot at now?"

  Finn chuckled. "You've already shot the hell out of three oil cans. Don't you think that's enough for one day?"

  "But my gun is loaded again." Joanna picked at a slice of cheese, looking coyly at him through those long thick lashes. "And it's not safe to keep a loaded gun around."

  Shaking his head, Finn smiled wide. He had no idea how anyone could say no to her. "Tell me more about your progress with the journals and when we're done eating, I'll figure out something for you to shoot at."

  "Okay." Gleefully, Joanna reached for a cracker. "I've pretty much pieced together the history of the sisters' great grandmother Emma. After she married, Lilibeth gave the young couple the general store in Tuckers Bluff as a wedding gift."

  Finn's fingers froze midway to his mouth with an apple slice. "She bought them a store?"

  "Yep. I don't know how a baker's widow made that kind of money, but from what I could see, the Muellers were loaded."

  "I wonder if it's the same store the sisters own now?"

  "I don't know, but Ruth Ann's kin didn't seem to care for them much. The few times the general store came up, Emma was referred to as 'that' woman."

  "A little green eyed monster maybe?"

  "I don't think so. Ruth Ann's great great grandmother was Abigail and she was big on causes. Women's right to vote, prohibition
. I didn't realize how scandalous the slightest thing could be. From what I can tell, Abigail would have had apoplexy if she'd known by the sixties the country would have been all about sex, drugs, and rock and roll."

  "Not everyone in the sixties were hippies."

  "No, but if Abigail had her way Texas would still be dry and a woman showing her ankles would be a criminal offense."

  "Wonder if it's Abigail's fault Tuckers Bluff doesn't have a bar."

  "I wouldn't be surprised. She lived until 1959."

  Finn had been kidding, but it wouldn't be the first time a single strong person ran a town. "Did she mention anything about Three Corners?"

  "Nope. But she was on a constant tirade over Sadieville."

  "Where the students at the college could travel twice a day." Finn remembered.

  "I took a photo of a similar ad when I was at the library."

  "You did?"

  Joanna pulled out her phone and scrolled through the screens. "Guess I forgot to mention it." She held out the phone. "See."

  "I wonder." Finn expanded the screen for a closer look.

  "Wonder what?"

  "Cigarettes, whiskey and wild, wild women." He chuckled.

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Turn of the century version of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. This is just a shot in the dark, but I'm thinking it's possible, more like very probable, that Sadieville had a very popular," he didn't want to say whore house. He snapped as fingers as the right word came to mind. "Bordello."

  ***

  Joanna stared at him. "But everything was so polite back then."

  "Yeah, well." Finn took a swig of lemonade. "If I'm right, it would explain why Ruth Ann's great whatever was not happy. Think about it, it wasn't really all that long ago that politically correct had an entirely different meaning. Before the Brady Bunch, parents had to sleep in separate beds on television."

  "True." Joanna's mother often complained about how difficult it was to find anything suitable for families on TV nowadays. "Clarke Gable saying he didn't give a damn in 1939 almost didn't get past the censors."

  "And technically prostitution has been illegal in Texas for a heck of a lot longer than that. Some places just turned a blind eye to it. And from the looks of that advertisement, Sadieville was one of those places." Finn pushed to his feet and extended his hand to Joanna to help her up. "I think the Chicken Ranch stayed in business well into the seventies.

  Joanna stood beside Finn and wished she didn't have to let go of his hand. "Chicken Ranch?"

  "You've never heard of the Chicken Ranch?" He looked honestly surprised. More so than when he'd learned Becky had never heard of Hello Dolly.

  "Can't say that I have." Joanna shook her head.

  "Best Little Whorehouse in Texas?" he asked.

  Joanna shook her head again. "Oh, wait. That was a movie."

  "It was based on a true story."

  "You're kidding."

  "Nope." Finn bent over and gathered the remnants from their afternoon snack and placed them in the basket. "And back in the day, A&M provided regular transportation for its freshman to the ranch as standard operating procedure."

  "Now you're kidding."

  Finn shook his head.

  "Wow." Joanna folded the cloth they'd been sitting on. "I wonder how long Sadieville lasted? Do you think it's a town, or a place like the Chicken Ranch?"

  "Haven't a clue, but something tells me if it's a ghost town, I'm going to have to add another day trip to my calendar."

  Clutching the folded picnic blanket against her, Joanna dropped her free hand to her waist. "I can scope out another town on my own, thank you."

  "The last two times you scoped out the landscape on your own," Finn took a step closer, the humor in his eyes gone, "I found you cornered by rattlers."

  "Actually," her breath hitched just a bit at the lowered tone of his voice, "I was not exactly cornered the first time."

  "Joanna." Finn took another step, putting him deep in her personal space. "In a tree, in a churchyard, wherever, I don't want to see you hurt. Ever."

  The burning intensity of deep blue eyes pinning her in place had all logical thought in Joanna's brain melting. Scrambling to find words, she swallowed what little saliva was still in her mouth and managed to mumble, "I can shoot them now myself."

  Finn's chin dipped in a slight motion of agreement at the same time his fingertips cupped her face. "JoJo, I…care about you. Let me share this with you?"

  Joanna had no idea what this was, but her head moved up and down anyway as his lips inched forward in slow motion, and then, finally, heated sparks shooting warmth to every cell in her body shoved memories of last night's kiss aside and had her melting against him. All coherent thought disappeared. Letting go of the checkered cloth, her arms lifted and draped around his neck about to pull him even closer when the softness of Finn's lips eased away, dragging a regretful moan from deep inside her.

  His forehead lowered, lightly touching hers. "I think," he blew in a deep breath, "I should go collect your targets and we should head back to the house."

  Sucking in a strong calming breath of her own, Joanna nodded slowly. Some part of her brain still functioning knew he was right. Other parts of her didn't care about what was right.

  For a few long seconds neither moved. Then a thin smile crossed his mouth and he stepped back, his grin growing wider. "Later."

  Joanna watched him trot over to the makeshift bench and oil cans, her heart galloping at a winning pace for the Kentucky Derby. She had no idea what 'later' meant but she had plenty of hopes. The bench taken down and leaned against the barn, bullet ridden targets in hand, Finn walked more slowly back toward the four-wheeler and Joanna bent down, putting the remaining leftovers in the basket and picking up the blanket she'd dropped during that toe tingling kiss.

  Standing upright again she noticed Finn had frozen in place. She took only one step and then the peaceful sounds of the day broke when her eyes followed the direction of his gaze. "Shit."

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Shit. Finn stood perfectly still. His gaze shifted from the snake coiled a few feet ahead to the four-wheeler halfway between him and Joanna, then back. If he took a step in retreat he could circle around to the vehicle. Or he could take a step back and the damn snake could strike. Fully extended and biting mad, at this distance the snake could easily sink his teeth into Finn before he'd taken enough steps to clear the danger zone. Damn.

  Not willing to make a sound, not even move his hand to alert Joanna of his predicament for fear of alerting the snake as well, Finn sucked in a deep breath and silently scolded himself. He knew damn well not to walk around the fields this time of year without a weapon handy. Even if they were in a pasture not far from the house, one that the horses grazed on keeping the grass from growing tall, snakes and West Texas went hand in hand, like peanut butter and jelly or beer and pretzels.

  At this point, Finn didn't have much choice. Knowing Joanna was nearby to call for help if the snake leaped forward, he was willing to take a chance that if the stupid rattler did just that. Finn's odds were fifty-fifty that the viper would get his boots. Stepping away was Finn's only chance.

  Slowly, not moving any other part of his body, Finn eased back half a step. The snake’s rattle increased in volume. Or maybe that was just Finn's imagination. Taking in a calming breath, he eased back another step with his other foot, and then he saw it. What should have been a flash of speed played in his mind in slow motion. Mouth wide open, body uncoiling, the rattle snake lurched forward, and steeling himself for a nasty bite, Finn flinched as a loud shot rang out and then another.

  Blinking once then twice, Finn looked down. The striking snake was not latched onto his leg or boot, but writhing on the ground at his feet. Tearing his gaze away from the threat, he managed to lift his head in time to see over one hundred pounds of Joanna Gaines fly into his arms knocking him to the ground.

  "Oh my God," she cried, her hand touching
his face, his neck, his chest. She squirmed shifting positions and twisted patting down each arm. "Are you all right?"

  He was, but if she kept patting south he was going to be in serious trouble. "Fine."

  "Are you sure?" The alarm in her eyes was both comforting and amusing.

  "Nice shot," he mumbled, still catching his breath.

  Joanna nibbled on one side of her lower lip and nodded. "I've never been so scared in my life. That snake is a hell of a lot smaller target than an oil can."

  Finn nodded. She was right. And frankly, he was just a little surprised she'd actually hit it, but grateful as hell that she had.

  "I couldn't stand the thought of you bitten. Losing you after finally finding you again." Leaning back so she was sitting on his thighs, she stretched one hand down and touched his jeans. "He didn't bite you, did he?"

  Finn shook his head and sucked in a breath, then smiled. Finally finding him again? The words filled his chest with unexpected joy. "We really should stop meeting this way."

  It took Joanna a few seconds of confusion before a smile touched her lips as well. "Not the way my Daddy did it."

  Finn felt his grin tug wider across his face.

  "Guess I weigh more than I did when I was six?"

  Finn nodded. "You are definitely not six anymore."

  "And I guess that's a good thing."

  Finn's chin dipped and his arms stretched forward, tugging her fully against him. In a single swift move, he spun her around and hovered over her, energized by her squeal of delight. "What do you think we should do about it?"

  Her smile took over her face and her arms linked around his neck. "I have a few ideas, hubby."

  His arms wound around her pulling her in for a kiss. Oh, yeah.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Joanna so was excited she could hardly contain herself. The entire drive back to the ranch from town she'd been bopping in her seat, running all the different bits of information over in her mind, fitting the pieces together like a crazy jigsaw puzzle.