Page 19 of Jameson’s Salvation

“Private business matter. None of your concern, son.”

Jameson’s eyes narrowed on Reggie and I had a feeling that was the wrong thing to say. Jameson towered over Reggie by a lot—he was not a tall man. And the size difference was tremendous. Where Jameson was a big wall of muscle, Reggie was a short stack of hotcakes with puddling in between the layers.

“I’m thinking any business that relates to Kennedy is my concern.”

“I don’t—”

“What’d he say to you this time?” Jameson asked me, interrupting Reggie’s rebuttal.

“Oh, the usual. If I was a smart girl, I’d take his offer. Then he told me this would be the last time he makes an offer. You interrupted him before he could get to the good part.”

Jameson’s lips twitched, not missing my mocking tone.

“Yeah? What’s the good part?”

“Well, he normally spouts off about how when times get hard, I’ll have no choice but to sell. Then he tells me his offer won’t be as high. Then sometimes he explains that the cost of taking care of my mother is going to wear me down and when it does he’ll only offer me half of his current offer, so I should give it to him now. And I would be giving it to him at the price he wants to buy at. He likes to come at me with all sorts of shit. But this is the first time I’m going to explain to him that if he comes onto my land one more time, he’ll be met in the driveway with my shotgun.”

I turned from Jameson to look at a red-faced Reggie and announced, “I’ve asked you to leave. You’re trespassing. So I’m gonna tell you one more time, I’m not selling. Not today, not ever. Now, I’m going in this house, I’m going to my safe, and I’m getting my gun. If you’re still out here when I get back, I’m shooting.”

“You wouldn’t dare shoot me,” Reggie told me with a broad smile.

Smug bastard.

“You willing to take that chance? Because I’m telling you right now, your pretty red truck’s gonna get the first taste of my buckshot. After that, we’ll see.”

I turned and walked around to the back of my house. I didn’t wait to see what Jameson was doing. I didn’t wait to hear if either man had something to say about my promise of brandishing a weapon. I marched into my house, went straight into my mudroom where my safe was at, spun the dial, opened the heavy metal door, and pulled out my favorite Remington Model 870. It was my dad’s and had been passed down to me.

I remembered as a kid Dad teaching me how to shoot this gun. I also remembered him teaching me never to aim it at something I didn’t intend to shoot. He also told me never to kill an animal I didn’t intend to eat unless it was threatening something I loved or trying to kill our livestock.

I wondered what my daddy would think about me shooting Reggie Coleman’s truck. Knowing my dad, he’d be proud. Reggie was a nasty pig and he was threatening something I loved—what was left of my dad’s farm.

He wouldn’t get it. Not ever. I’d told Reggie once and I’d meant it, over my dead body, he’d take this land.

“Whoa there, Annie Oakley.” Jameson appeared.

“He gone?”

“Yep. I think you promisin’ to shoot that fancy-assed truck ‘a his did it.”

“It would. He loves that damn thing. Never seen a speck of mud on it. Bet he carries one of those shammy towels with him, in case he gets caught in the rain.”

Jameson studied me for a moment and his eyes flicked to the shotgun in my hand before he looked back at me and smiled.

“You all right?”

I thought about lying and saying I was fine, but Jameson would sniff that out in a second so instead I told him the truth.

“No. I’m sick of him bothering me. I’m scared he’s gonna make my life hell and somehow force me to sell like he did Mrs. Nickels. I know he put the word out for no one to rent her land. I’m not sure what he can do to me, but I do know I don’t want to find out.” I stopped and took a shaky breath. “Thank you for coming when you did. You stopped me from committing a felony. Or at least a visit from the police and Reggie suing me to fix his truck.”

“Right place, right time. Or should I say, Reggie picked the wrong time for his visit when I was on my way over. Were you really gonna shoot his truck?”

“Yep. I was gonna shoot out his windows and enjoy the sound of glass shattering. Probably not the smartest plan, but he will not leave me alone. This is my land, he has no business coming here. I’ve tried being nice, but it doesn’t work. I lost my temper.”

Jameson continued to look at me for a long time. He looked like he was wrestling with his thoughts, and finally with a nod he asked, “Babe, do me a favor, yeah?”

Babe?

Why did hearing him say that give me a warm, tingling feeling?