Page 65 of Fixing Their Heart

Cora

Grim’s scent is a blanketof comfort around me. I’m on his twin-size sleeping area in his camper, and he’s waiting for water to boil on his two-burner stove. I don’t know if it’s because I spent my first night at Eagle Peak here, but when it was time to settle in for the night, I invited myself into Grim’s sanctuary, rather than take him to my cabin. After Rev’s sermon, I need to feel safe, and no place makes me feel safer than Grim’s camper.

“There is a war comin’ to our doorstep.” Rev’s words sit like sour milk in my stomach. “We’re going to fight. We’re going to protect what’s ours. Our territory. Our home. Our heart.”

If anyone had doubts about defending Eagle Peak against an army of thirty men, no one showed it. My guys all cheered and grunted their agreement. Toward the end, Rev’s sermon took on a pre-game locker-room speech, and the guys ate it up. By the time Rev wrapped it up, there was enough testosterone in that amphitheater to launch a spaceship. But what if testosterone is the only thing behind their confidence? What if theyaren’tprepared for what’s coming?

I mean, thirty men? Thirty! The enemy outnumbers us more than three to one, and while I appreciate the desire to protect Jud’s territory and Eagle Peak, Rev said these men are coming forme.Not the land or the resources the guys have collected. Me.

I’vebeena captive. It sucked. I’m not interested in a repeat performance.

And I’m not interested in losing any of my guys. I don’t want anyone hurt, or worse, trying to protect me.

I was just starting to feel like I belonged here, like I’ve found a family and a home again, and now, all of it is being threatened.

I wrap my arms around my churning stomach. “I’m scared,” I say to Grim’s back as he pours water from a kettle into a pair of tin mugs.

“Me too,” he says with a sober look. Somehow, having him acknowledge his fear makes mine seem more manageable. He could try to reassure me and make promises, but he doesn’t. I appreciate that.

He places a steaming cup in my hands and sits on one of the booth-style benches across from the bed. He’s facing me, and his spread knees brush the bed, easily spanning the narrow aisle of the camper. Last time I was here, he had gun parts laid out on the table. This time, he has a puzzle in progress. According to the box, the finished product will be an idyllic farm scene, complete with a barn, a tractor, and a bunch of happy barnyard animals. Of the 1000 pieces, it looks like Grim has assembled about a hundred, mostly edge pieces, plus a few clusters here and there.

Grim follows my gaze. “I suppose the time for recreation is over.” He sets down his tea, and with one big hand, swipes the loose pieces off the table and into the box. When he starts breaking up the partially completed puzzle, I get up and join him.

One tire of the tractor was nearly complete. It feels like a desecration to lift apart the pieces that Grim’s sharp eyes sought out and that his large hands carefully fit together. But he’s right. With a nod at Jud, Rev said the preparations for battle would begin first thing in the morning. “There’s work to do, brothers. We’ve begun preparing for this. We’re going to keep preparing. We have maybe two weeks to get ready. Not enough time, but we’ll make it enough. We’re all strong. We’re all smart. And we’ve got the Working on our side.”

I still don’t understand the Working, but the others seem bolstered by Rev’s assurance.

As Grim and I pack away the puzzle, I ask, “What will I do to help?”

I imagine the men will deal with things like fortifications and weapons. I know there are caves and tunnels on this mountain, like the one where Bernard-the-Pelican is being kept, and I know there are warehouses down the mountain with supplies the men have collected. They’ll do all the heavy lifting and the fighting. But I want to help, too. Ineedto help. I’ll do anything to protect my guys…and to keep myself from getting taken away from them.

Grim considers me. I adore his rugged features, his blue-green eyes, the way he looks at me as if I’m the most important thing in his world. Every ounce of his attention is on me when he says, “You know how to use a gun?”

I wrinkle my nose. I don’t like guns. But I think it’s time I learn about them. “I mean, I’ve never used one before, but don’t you just aim and pull the trigger?” Seems pretty basic to me.

“There’s a lot more to it than that. Safe handling, for starters.” He gets up and goes to the back of his camper. When he returns, he has two weapons. “This one’s a .22 rifle. It’s yours now, so let’s get you acquainted with it.”

“Mine?”

He nods and spreads a grease-stained towel over the tabletop. “It’s a good starter weapon. Light, easy to handle. Not a lot of power in a .22, but it’ll take down a man, if it comes to that.” He lays the gun gently on the towel so the business end is pointed at the wall and the wooden end is toward his sleeping area. “First rule of gun safety: Never point it at anyone or anything you don’t want dead.”

I listen carefully. Partly, because when Grim mentions being the cause of death, I know he’s very, very serious about it. Also, because this information could save my life. And the lives of my men. I couldn’t bear it if my mishandling of a weapon hurt one of them. I’m determined to know darn sure how to use this thing before I pick it up.

“Second rule,” Grim says. “Treat every gun like it’s loaded, even if you know it’s not. Third rule: Safety’s on until you’re ready to shoot. Red means you’re dead, so you want it black unless you’re ready to rock-and-roll.” He shows me a little moving part near the trigger that toggles between red and black. He leaves it on black, safe.

He grabs a metal piece along the middle of the rifle and moves it. The rifle makes a clicking sound. “Here’s the chamber. You can see it’s empty right now. It’s not loaded.” He angles the gun so I can see into the chamber. “The magazine is here. It holds fifteen rounds.”

“Rounds?”

“Bullets.”

I nod. I’ve seen Leon load a gun many times, but his wasn’t like this one. It was much bigger. This gun seems less intimidating. Grim shows me how to load fifteen bullets into it, and then he stands me up, points me toward the front of the camper, and shows me how to hold it.

His body heat melts into me as he stands close behind. His muscled arms surround mine. He’s holding the gun in what he calls firing position, and he has me place my hands where his are. Then, gradually, he removes his hold, so it’s just me holding the gun. It’s heavier than I expected, but not too heavy. My position feels awkward, but I think I could get used to it. I’m going to need to practice. I want using this gun to feel like second nature.

Grim shows me how to look down the barrel and line up the sights to aim. He has me pretend I’m going to shoot the keyhole of an upper cabinet at the front of the camper.

“You want the front sight perfectly centered in the notch of the rear sight,” Grim says. “And have the target resting directly on top of the front sight. Yeah. See how it all lines up.”