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“Is Charlie going to hurt my mom?” Alex asks with a worried expression, not understanding that my Dad was kidding around.
“No, she’s not going to do anything to your mom. My Charlie is just having a woman-to-woman talk with…” he starts to say when he’s interrupted by the sound of gunfire.
Bang!
I drop the suitcase I’m carrying and immediately sprint in the direction I last saw Ariella and my mom go. “Watch after Alex!” I yell back at my dad. As soon as I round the corner of the house, I see Ariella lying on the ground, halfway buried in the snow. She has a hold of my mom’s gun, which my mother is carefully prying from her hand. Jessie, Jerry, and Savannah come running from the bunkhouse, their weapons still in their holsters and hidden underneath their jackets.
I turn in circles, looking around for any signs of danger, yet seeing none. I yell toward the team, “Did you guys see what happened?” They all nod, but I can tell that they are trying to hold back their laughter. I don’t see anything funny about the situation. When I notice Ariella’s body convulsing, I run over to her to give first aid.
“Honey, please tell me what’s wrong.” I didn’t mean for the name to slip from my lips, but I doubt she even registered what I said as she continues to shake uncontrollably. She grabs her stomach and rolls over to her side, and it’s then I realize she’s not convulsing. She’s laughing…hysterically.
Savannah walks over and looks down at Ariella. “Nice shot! I don’t think you got him, but he’s running scared now!” She holds out her hand to Ariella to help her up. Once Ariella has regained a modicum of control, she looks up at Savannah hesitantly but takes her hand and accepts the gesture of assistance.
“Thanks.” Dusting the snow from her bottom, it takes everything in me not to stare at the spot she just wiped clean.
Scared and fueled by adrenaline, I pull her to me and hug her tight, letting my fear release slowly. It’s not until Savannah clears her throat that Ariella pulls away and looks mildly embarrassed. I want to hold her forever if she’ll let me, but instead, she apologizes to Savannah as if she wronged her somehow.
“Will someone please tell me what happened?” I ask, my tone demanding.
“Calm down, Son. Everyone is just dandy. There was a coyote about 100 yards out, edging the tree line. He was skulking about, but he was easy to spot through the bare trees. My guess is he was planning on trying to raid the chicken coop. When Ariella told me that she had never shot a gun, I thought I would let her shoot mine for fun. She wasn’t expecting the recoil and fell backward. It was pretty funny to watch,” my mom explains.
“We didn’t mean to scare you, Pat. I just wanted to see what it would be like. I knew I wouldn’t hurt the coyote, but Charlie only wanted to scare him away. We didn’t see any harm with me shooting in such a wide-open space,” Ariella explains.
Savannah clears her throat. “It’s not a bad idea to get her some training on properly handling a gun in case she needs to use it. I can teach her the basics,” she suggests.
I shake my head. “If we do our jobs right, she should never need to use one.”
This time, it’s Jerry who steps forward. “I agree with you one hundred percent, Pat.”
“Thank…”
He puts a hand up to stop me. Apparently, he’s not done. “Like I was saying, I agree with you. She should never need to use it, especially if we do our jobs right. We’re good at what we do, but you and I both know that when someone is determined enough, they can still get past our defenses. Ariella should be prepared in case she has to use one. If she finds herself in a situation where using a gun is her only recourse, that is not the time for her to be figuring things out.”
He’s right, and I don’t like it. “Fine. Tomorrow, Savannah and Jerry can take you and Alex to the small range we have set up on the back of the property. Jessie and I will do perimeter sweeps and check for gaps in the surveillance.”
Ariella puts her hands on her hips. “I didn’t agree to letting my son learn how to shoot a gun. It’s far too dangerous for him.”
Charlie puts a hand on Ariella’s shoulder. “Patrick has been shooting with me since he was seven years old. I still have his .22 caliber rifle, which amounts to nothing more than a pea shooter. It’s as important for Alex to know basic gun safety and how to handle one out on a farm. He’ll be under constant supervision, and you’ll be with him every step of the way. We’ll stop if you get uncomfortable or he’s not listening to directions. But trust me, it’s a good skill for him to have up here in the wilderness with all the wild animals roaming around.”
“Great. So we don’t have to just worry about the bad guys. Now, we have to concern ourselves with lions, tigers, and bears. Oh my!” Ariella says with sarcasm.
“Well, in all fairness, it’s more like coyotes, mountain lions, and bears,” says Jessie with a head tilt and a smirk.
“Oh, thank you for clarifying. I feel so much better now. Whew!” Ariella says, wiping her brow mockingly.
“You should. Lions and tigers are far worse than coyotes and mountain lions. Okay. Coyotes are pretty aggressive, especially in the winter,” Jessie remarks.
I growl out, “You’re not helping, Jessie.”
She throws her hands up in a placating gesture, “Fine. Fine. I can tell when I’m not wanted. Charlie, can I go inside and help with dinner?”
With that, everyone turns to make their way inside the big house. My mom quickly puts everyone to work, assigning tasks like a drill sergeant. No one complains because they can smell their reward roasting in the oven.
I see my mom talking privately with my father in the other room while we set the table, make drinks, and place fresh-baked rolls in the basket. He bobs his head a few times, glancing at Ariella and Alex. I see a small smile form on his lips, and I know whatever scheme my mom has cooked up now involves my father. I try not to sigh. I’m well aware that my mom likes to play the matchmaker with all the lovely ladies in town. She could give Amelia, Ethan’s wife, a run for her money. That’s saying something because Amelia is a professional matchmaker and makes an exceptional living from it.
When she walks back into the kitchen, my dad in tow, I tell her in a low voice, “Whatever it is you’re thinking of doing, Mom, don’t.”
“What are you talking about, my dear boy? Do you honestly think I would meddle in your personal life?” she asks sweetly.
