Refuge Cove (New Americana 2)

“That’s the idea. If he hasn’t learned his lesson this time, I’ll have to think of some new way to scare him off.” John was scanning the ground, probably looking for any sign that Boone had been here. But if there’d been any new tracks, the rain would have washed them away.

He unlocked the door and they went inside. The cabin was chilly but it wasn’t worth making a fire. They wouldn’t be here that long. In her room Emma bundled up her old clothes and put them in a paper bag from the grocery store.

“Here’s your toothbrush.” John stood in the doorway of the bedroom. “And you can have my thermals to sleep in. At least they’ll keep you warm at night.”

“Thanks.” She stuffed them into the bag, leaving his bathrobe on the bed. “I’ll return them after I find something that fits me.”

Would she get the chance? Would she even see him again after today?

“I said I had something for you. I want you to take it.” He handed her a zipped canvas pouch. Emma opened it to find a small handgun and a magazine loaded with ammunition, along with a lightweight shoulder holster. “This is a Kel-Tec PF-9,” he said. “Easy to carry, easy to shoot. Keep it with you in your room and whenever you leave the hotel. If Boone shows up and threatens you, don’t hesitate to use it.”

Emma stared down at the deadly little weapon. “I’ve never fired a gun in my life,” she said.

“I guessed as much. That’s why I’m going to give you a quick lesson. Let’s go out on the porch.”

She followed him outside. The rain was still falling, and water streamed off the edges of the roof. There was no more sign of the bear.

First he showed her how to insert and remove the magazine in the grip. “I’ll give it to you with the magazine loaded,” he said. “I can’t imagine you’ll need to load it again.”

“With luck I won’t need to use it at all. Guns have always made me nervous.”

“With Boone around, you’ll be a lot safer with protection. Let’s take a couple of practice shots.”

After showing her how to release the small safety catch, he took his place behind her, reaching around with both arms to show her the proper two-handed grip for aiming and firing the gun. Emma tried to pay full attention, but the awareness of his body pressing against her back, his arms surrounding her, his voice a breath in her ear, kindled a low-burning flame inside her. A shimmering heat rose from the depths of her body to spread into her limbs and her cheeks. Emma struggled to ignore the pounding of her pulse. The gun was cold in her hands. She willed herself to listen to him and follow his instructions.

“Aim and hold it steady . . . that’s why you want to use both hands. For a little gun it has a snappy recoil. If you don’t have a good grip, it’ll give you a kick. You’ll see.

“Shoot in the general direction of that dead stump by the road. You don’t need to hit it. Just aim and squeeze the trigger—that’s it.” His hands supported hers as her finger tightened.

She hesitated. “There’s no chance I’ll hit that bear, is there?”

“Don’t worry. The bear went the other way. Just squeeze. Like . . . that.”

The gunshot shattered the peaceful murmur of the rain. Startled, Emma flinched, the report ringing in her ears.

“See, nothing to it.” He stepped back, letting her go. “If Boone, or anyone else, comes at you, just point the gun at the biggest part of their body and sque

eze the trigger.”

“I can’t imagine shooting anybody, not even Boone,” Emma said.

“Let’s hope you don’t have to. But in case you do, you need to be able to protect yourself. Try it again, on your own this time.”

Emma took a deep breath and raised the pistol, gripping two-handed the way John had taught her. Steeling herself against the sound, she aimed at the dead stump and squeezed the trigger.

The shot rang out, less of a surprise this time. She’d missed the stump again, but at least she knew how to fire the gun.

“Do you want more practice?” John asked her. “It can be fun once you get used to it.”

“No thanks.” Emma handed him the pistol. “I can shoot if I have to. That’s enough.”

“If you’re sure, I’ll reload the magazine for you.” He took two spare bullets out of his shirt pocket, slipped them into the magazine, and zipped everything back into the canvas pouch. “One more thing,” he said. “Follow me.”

Leaving the gun pouch on the porch, he led her under the eaves of the house and around the corner of the cabin to what appeared to be a garage attached to the side. After removing the padlock, he opened one of the double doors far enough to let in some light. “Come on in,” he said.

Emma stepped inside. As her eyes adjusted to the dimness, she saw a snowmobile with a double seat. Next to the house wall was a good-sized freezer which, she guessed, would be stocked with moose and salmon. Tools of every imaginable kind hung neatly on racks. Spare belts, hoses, and other machine parts, along with cans of motor oil and antifreeze, sat on sturdy shelves.

“Come here, Emma.” John was standing next to something in the far corner of the garage. Walking closer, Emma saw that it was a bicycle. Slightly smaller than a full-sized adult bike, it looked expensive and brand-new. Even before John told her, Emma guessed the heartbreaking story behind it.