“Again!” she shouted.
They tried some more target practice, and Rishaan got more control over the g*n. With his last shot he sent the stones spinning.
“We are running out of ammo, let’s stop now,” he said.
Shelly grabbed the g*n and removed the ammo. He saw that, despite all her bravado, she was sensible when it came to things that were really dangerous. She looked comfortable and professional with the firearm, treating it properly. He remembered she had broken her arm once with a fall from her horse. She never complained once about it, and when it was in plaster carried like a trophy. He had respect for her, even admiration.
“Okay – let’s have a race back to the ranch!” she said. “First one round the Devil’s finger,” she said, pointing at the large sandstone butte, “and back to the r
