Ellie's Legacy by Ginger Simpson Read Free Book Online Page A

she
practically knew he was responsible for the pot shot aimed in her direction,
she felt strangely secure.
    Surely, he wasn’t dumb enough to try the same thing again,
especially with the finger of blame pointing at him, and so many men patrolling
Fountainhead.
    She supposed she should be frightened to be out and about by
herself, but it’d be a snowy day in Hades when the likes of Jeb Bryant kept her
housebound. Besides, he was one of the reasons she practiced shooting anyhow.
    Chessie’s clop, clop, clop echoed in the eerie stillness and
sent a shiver through Ellie. If she believed in ghosts, the old, deserted mine
would be a great hideout for them, but luckily, she didn’t hold much stock in
the spirit world. Still, the desolation made the back of her neck bristle. She
reached behind and patted the side of her saddlebag where her newfound security
bulged. Funny how a gun made a person feel safe.
    At the mouth of the mine, she dismounted and tied Chessie’s
reins to a nearby tree. She buckled on her holster and loaded her gun. Power
surged through her. Something about carrying a weapon made her feel in control.
She chided herself for such a silly notion, but chuckled. Wearing a sidearm
probably accounted for the cocky walk of most cowboys.
    Ellie pulled a makeshift target from the other side of her
saddlebag. It wasn’t very big, even when she unfolded it, but the circles she’d
drawn on it were more distinct than the floral-patterned material she’d
previously used. The busy print had made it hard to determine the hits and
misses. Today would show whether her accuracy had improved as much as she
believed.
    She spied a small twig protruding from a tree trunk, punched
it through her paper bull’s-eye then backed up twenty paces.
    Ty’s teasing words echoed in her mind, and she laughed. She
must’ve looked pretty ridiculous with her hand forming a make-believe gun. What
would he think if he knew she had a real one, and knew how to use it?
    She withdrew her Smith & Wesson and rubbed her hand
along its length. Her new revolver was sure different than the old rifle she’d
used to shoot cans off the corral railing in her younger days. Back then, you
could take all day to pull the trigger and not worry about something shooting
back at you.
    Ellie took careful aim at the target and squeezed the
trigger. Chessie nervously danced at the noise but settled after one or two
rounds. "It's all right girl. I'm just practicin'."
    After hitting only one ring away from center, she fired
again, then again and again. Each bullet hole moved closer to the middle, but
didn't quite make it. She gnashed her teeth in frustration.
    Maybe she was trying too hard. Perhaps a change in strategy
might help. She decided to attempt some quick draws and holstered her weapon.
With legs slightly apart and feeling balanced, Ellie’s hand hovered over the
twenty-two. Her gaze fixed on the target. She took a deep breath then yanked
the weapon clear of leather and held it mid-air. At that exact second, a bullet
whizzed by her ear, hitting the bull’s-eye dead center.
    Ellie’s head whipped around in the direction of the gunshot,
her arm followed. Her weapon pointed directly at Jeb Bryant, astride his horse
and holstering his sidearm. A cocky smile played across his face. “That’s how
you do it, Miz Fountain.”
    Her heart thundered beneath her shirt. The sight of him
sickened her. How she hated his condescending attitude.
    Not yet ready for a confrontation, she lowered her weapon.
Finally, she managed to find her voice. “What are you doing here?”
    There was an evil twang to his chuckle. He sobered and
leaned forward, an arm resting on his saddle horn. “I could ask you the same
thing? Aren’t you a little far from Fountainhead?”
    “This is public land, and I don’t think what I’m doing is
any of your business.”
    Jeb’s lips thinned. He stood in the stirrups then
dismounted.
    Ellie’s breath caught in her throat. He’d already