Chapter Eleven

Paige

She can barely make herself get out of bed the next morning. Simon is long gone from the cabin, having left early for the clinic because he supposedly had some research project he was working on there. Cory is also gone, probably milking a cow or something equally gross. She cannot believe that John has ordered her training to be executed by him. She would’ve been happy, eager even, to work with anyone else on the farm. And so her reluctance to rise is from her resistance to being forced into his company. He’d made sure to tell her that they’d start bright and early after breakfast, too. Then he’d chuckled obnoxiously and turned off the light beside his bed last evening.

With great irritation, Paige drags herself out of bed and dons a pair of jeans, her black boots and a yellow floral sweater, not something she’d have ever been caught dead in before the apocalypse. She throws on her brown canvas jacket and heads out to the chicken coop, one of her morning assignments. When she’s done, she runs into Sam, also on her way to the big house for breakfast. She has obviously been with the horses because her hands have that signature gray dirt coating the palms. She also wears a big smile, which is her usual expression after a visit with those dangerous animals.

“Excited to start training today?” she asks with her dimples showing and her black ponytail swishing around.

“Sure. Ecstatic,” Paige replies dryly.

“Oh, but it’ll be fun!” Sam says.

“Yeah, maybe with Simon or you or one of the other guys,” Paige explains patiently.

“No way,” Sam says, wrinkling her nose. “Cory’s the best. He’s so good at teaching anyone who wants to learn. He’s very patient. He taught me and… Em.”

Her smile falls as she refers to her dead friend, Cory’s young sister. Then, without missing a beat, she loops her arm through Paige’s and keeps on going.

“He worked with Huntley and Justin last year, especially with knives. It’s important for the kids to know how to defend themselves in case they ever come to harm. Hopefully, that never happens. That’s why we don’t take any of them to the clinic. I’m sure there’re other kids in town that they could make friends with or play with, but Grandpa and Derek decided when we first started going to town that the kids should stay here. I used to be one of them, one of the kids. But now I get to go because I like helping out at the clinic.”

“Yeah, I guess that would make sense. They seem pretty innocent. It’s probably a good thing to keep them that way.”

“Well, not Huntley. He’s been through a lot. Remember? His father was one of the visitors. He was a very awful man, the worst kind possible,” Sam informs her with a shiver.

“Right. I remember,” Paige acknowledges.

“But you’ll have fun with Cory. Plus, it’s good to get to know him. You’ll know more about the real Cory when you get finished. Besides, I’ll be with you,” Sam tells her as they drop their shoes on the back porch.

“You will?” she asks with confusion.

“Sure,” Sam says. “Simon ditched me off today. He didn’t want me to go to the clinic, so he purposely dragged Reagan there a lot earlier than usual to do his research.”

She air quotes on ‘research’ and rolls her bright blue eyes with irritation.

“What do you mean? I thought he really did have to do research on something.”

Paige is genuinely confused. Why would her brother tell her a lie?

“Nah, he does most of his research here on the farm. He was

just avoiding me. He’s been avoiding me, but I’ve gotten used to it. It seems it’s his favorite trick lately.”

With that statement, she goes inside and allows the screen door to slam, which is unusual for her. Normally she’s a quiet little thing who glides around all graceful and delicate. Today, she seems feisty and genuinely pissed off, mostly at Simon.

Some of the family are absent from breakfast because they have gone with Simon and Reagan to the clinic. Seating is condensed to allow room for a few of the younger kids to sit at the adult table in the dining room. Somehow she finds herself stuck next to Cory. As if it wasn’t bad enough that she has to spend part of her day training with him.

The plans for the day are reviewed during breakfast, but Paige can barely concentrate nor does she even follow what they are talking about. CNG, gas, natural gas, stealing trucks, whatever. She keeps finding herself staring down at Cory’s huge thigh muscle straining against his snug jeans. At least he has on a shirt this morning. Although it seems as if the musculature beneath it is about to rip it to shreds in an attempt to be free. The veins in his thick wrists ripple under his skin as he scoops butter from the dish with his knife and slathers it on his bread. He’s a big eater. As a matter of fact, she thinks he probably eats enough for four people. Of course, he is kind of large man like his big brother. And she’d puked on him, all over him to be more precise. Her cheeks flush just recalling that horrifyingly embarrassing night. Good God, what a loser!

Someone asks her a question, and she just nods. She wasn’t paying attention anyway. She probably just signed on for cleaning out a horse stall or something equally hideous. Paige pushes the grits and scrambled eggs around on her plate and tries not to think about what a huge ass she’d been in front of Cory of all people when she was drunk. He was gone the next day, all day and then that night, as well. The family doesn’t seem to say much about Cory disappearing when he does, which seems to be rather frequently. She’s not sure if he was avoiding her or if he genuinely needed to do something that kept him away, but she heard him come into the cabin sometime in the middle of the next night. Neither of them has spoken of it since. However, it is still there hovering between them like a thick cloud of awkward smog.

There is ground-in dirt under some of his closely-clipped fingernails. He’s such a heathen. His hair is pulled back into its usual short black ponytail. Reagan frequently calls him a hippy. He always grins that ridiculously charming grin of his. He doesn’t seem to care at all what people think of him. His forearm nearest her glows with a sheen of perspiration even though she is chilly.

Suddenly, he bumps his thick leg against hers and says, “Right, beanpole?”

“What?” she croaks.

“We’re ready to start your training. Remember?” he asks.

He’s looking directly at her as if she’s a loon. His brown eyes regard her keenly. Then he turns back to his brother, with whom he must’ve been talking.

“We’re good to go,” he reassures Kelly. “I’ll get her started right after breakfast. Better eat up, beanpole.”

“I’ll go with you guys,” Sam jumps in with enthusiasm.

“Sure, kid,” Cory replies and gets a wide smile from Samantha. “You can show her some of your knife tricks. You’re more proficient with one than me.”

“Yeah, right!” Sam exclaims.

“You are,” he insists and keeps teasing with Sam.

Paige blocks them out and bites her lower lip instead. She has no wish to be in his company all damn day long. Instead, she’d like to just hang out with Samantha. Or Hannah. Or Sue. Or even the wild hooligans on the farm, otherwise known as the kids. Arianna nags to tag along during the training, but her mother quickly reminds her that she is to help clean out the goat pen after breakfast. She spends the rest of her meal pouting.

The meal finishes and she tries to help with the clearing of it and the dish duties, but Hannah will have none of it. She gets tossed out the back door with Sam and him, whether she wants to go or not.

She follows dutifully after him as Cory goes to the med shed. He tells her and Sam to wait for him, but reappears a moment later with an extra rifle and what looks like two pistols of some kind.

“Let’s go,” he orders but not in a domineering manner.

They follow along; Sam all lightness and smiles, Paige all frowns and scowls of displeasure. When they come to the horse barn, Paige butts in.

“Hey, wait a minute,” she protests. “I’m not riding one of those damn horses.”

“You don’t have to. You can always walk,” he replies over his shoulder with a grin.

“Fine, I will,” she says through gritted teeth.

He just laughs loudly and tells her, “You’re riding behind me, bony ass.”

She notices that when they aren’t around the family, he takes more liberty with his choice of put-downs.

“That’s not nice, Cory,” Sam scolds him. “I’ll get my mare.”

Paige stands rooted at the entrance to the barn glaring daggers at his back.

“You’re riding with me,” he calls over as he sets the rifles against a stall door.

He slides open the door and leads his crazy stallion out of it. There is no way in hell that she’s riding that thing. She will just walk.

“Come here,” he demands this time with more dominance than before.

She unwillingly steps closer, but not too close. When she apparently doesn’t come as close as he’d wanted, Cory motions to her with his hand before tying his stallion to the rope coming out of the wall. She plants her feet. He motions more impatiently this time, his mouth an irritated frown.

“Now,” he insists and points to the ground beside him.

Paige purses her lips angrily, squints her eyes at him, and edges closer. When she’s within a few feet of the big horse, Cory snatches her upper arm and pulls her right up beside him.

“He’s not going to attack you,” he assures her.

Paige doesn’t believe him for a minute. The horse snorts through its wide nostrils as if his disdain for her is equal to her own.

Cory chuckles at her and says, “Why don’t you start with just a simple pet?”

“No thanks.”

He takes her hand in his, which is hot, and lays it gently against the horse’s huge, muscular neck. It reminds her of Cory’s neck.

“He’s not that bad, right?” he asks rhetorically. “He’s really a puss if you get right down to it.”

“Yeah, sure,” Paige scoffs. The horse’s slick fur is shiny and warm against her palm. She’s seen Cory working with this horse every day since he’s come home. He babies it, really. The animal’s grooming is meticulously maintained down to the very last, long hair of its mane.

Within a few moments, he has the beast saddled and bridled. And it must know they are leaving the farm because the animal starts prancing in place once they go outside. Samantha is already mounted up bareback. She’s like a tiny, horse riding daredevil.

Cory swings into the saddle without using the stirrup and reaches down for her. She glares up at him. Her legs are quaking already.

“Come on. We’re burning daylight here, woman,” he chides.

Paige looks once to the house, then at her feet, and realizing she’s not getting out of it, reaches up for his outstretched hand.

“Put your foot in the stirrup,” he instructs.

Once she has that done, he tugs her right up behind him as if she weighs twelve ounces.

“Whoa, he’s bigger than the other horses,” she notes nervously and clutches onto Cory for dear life, sworn enemy or no.

“He’s a stud. He’s supposed to be bigger than the mares. Helps him get the job done,” he says.

Paige doesn’t think he’s talking about his horse at all, especially not when he peers over his shoulder and grins wickedly at her.

“Just hold onto my waist,” he says softly and turns back around.

As if he needed to tell her that. Get real. She’d rather just walk and catch up to wherever they are going. They start off at a slow walking gate and increase to a trot, per Sam’s request. Her black hair is the same color as Cory’s horse. It flows out behind her in the wind, and she looks as happy as she could be in this moment.

Once they clear the edge of the cattle pasture and get the gate opened and reclosed, Sam shouts, “Come on, Cory!”

Paige has no idea what she means, but Cory seems to because he laughs heartily.

“Hold on,” he says quietly over his shoulder. “I know you don’t like riding, but Sam does and she wants to run.”

“What? No!” Paige barely gets out on a ragged whisper.

“So does Jet,” he says with a chuckle.

“No, no, no,” Paige repeats as if she has a severe stutter. His horse is prancing side to side and doing funny little moves under them that aren’t funny at all to Paige.

“Just hold on,” he says softly and turns to look directly into Paige’s eyes. “I won’t let you fall off.”

His left hand slides from the reins, leaving only one controlling the beast. She’s about to yell at him to keep both hands on the wheel, for God’s sake! Unfortunately, her reply is cut off as his hand comes to rest on the top of her thigh. He squeezes tightly, his long fingers going nearly all the way around her leg. Her eyes widen, but she can’t respond because he nods to Sam and lets his horse break free from his tight restraint. And then they are flying, or at least that’s what it feels like to Paige. Sam is flying, however. Her horse isn’t doing the cantering thing that Simon explained. It’s galloping, and she’s laughing with pure joy. Cory’s horse is smooth and rhythmic, not like the mount she rode with her brother which seemed like it was mostly trying to bounce her off. It also covers a lot of ground without a lot of effort. His horse reminds her of one of those big, brutal battle horses that a knight would’ve rode into combat. The huffing and harsh snorting of his breath reaches her ears even as far back from his head as she is.

“Easy, bud,” Cory talks to him.

The beast snorts softly again as if communicating with his master. And master he is. Cory controls the animal with just a single hand and probably his legs. She’s never seen anyone ride like he does. There is no fear, no holding back. It’s just all control.

“Take ‘er easy,” he coos.

His voice is deep and soothing, apparently to the horse, as well, because his pace evens out to a mellower lope. Sam races ahead, obviously knowing their destination. She even pushes her horse to jump right over a fallen log in the way. Cory just steers his stallion around it. She’s thankful that he didn’t try that with her on back of the tall stallion. She’s not sure if he would’ve taken the jump if she wasn’t with him. She knows nothing about horses and even less about his. Perhaps it wouldn’t have jumped the log. Of course, as skillful a rider as he is, Paige is quite sure this horse would’ve jumped that log if it was on fire if Cory demanded it of him.

“Having fun yet?” he calls over his shoulder.

“Is it over? Then, no!”

He just laughs at her and says, “Relax. You might have fun. And you don’t have to hold on so tight with your legs. You aren’t going anywhere. I told you I won’t let you fall off. I always keep my word. Just relax.”

For some reason, his confidence in his own conviction is reassuring to Paige. It’s not the most terrifying experience, either. The way he manages the giant horse makes her feel somewhat convinced that she isn’t about to take a full gainer and break her neck. Or maybe it’s the firm grip he has on her upper leg. She’s actually starting to enjoy herself. She’d still rather be walking or jogging, but this isn’t horrible. She can’t believe it, but she does feel safe with him, which barely makes sense.

He and Sam rein in their mounts and slow down to a walking pace as they arrive at the Johnson farm.

“What are we doing here?” she asks Cory as he halts.

He swings his leg over the neck of his horse and reaches up to help her down. She takes the help without argument because she isn’t sure she can get down without falling flat on her face and then probably also getting kicked there by the horse. His hands slide from her waist up the sides of her breasts and into her armpits as she shimmies down.

“Thanks,” she mumbles and steps away from him with a blush staining her cheeks.

Cory just smirks in an arrogant way that makes Paige think he touched her inappropriately on purpose. She glares at his back as he ties the horse’s reins to a fence post next to Sam’s. Some of the Johnson kids are outside working, some of the littler kids are playing and one of the daughters, Evie, comes out to greet them. Paige has met her a few times and knows that she is a widow. She also knows Cory danced with her quite a few times at the wedding reception.

“What’s going on, guys?” Evie asks after they all greet one another, her golden blonde hair tossing around in the wind.

“Brought the beanpole here over to plink at some groundhogs,” Cory answers for them.

Paige shoots him a disgusted look. Shoot groundhogs? She hadn’t known this was the plan. She wants to go back. Or throw up. That might be an option, too. She’s never shot at animals like that before. Catching them in snares wasn’t the same thing as sport shooting an innocent animal.

Apparently Evie doesn’t feel the same way because she announces, “Oh, good!”

“Good?” Paige inquires as she re-ties her hair back with her red bandana.

“Yeah, sure,” Evie explains. “We’re still overrun. While my family and I were gone, the groundhogs took over in the pastures. They are bothersome little creatures. If one of the horses or cows steps in one of their burrows, then we could have to put it down if the damage is bad like a broken ankle. It’s happened.”

“Oh,” Paige says simply. She still doesn’t want to kill any of the rodents. She really hopes Cory doesn’t want to cook and eat one when they’ve finished. Or perform some rite of passage ritual by eating the heart or something equally disgusting. That prospect is even more nauseating than killing one. She grimaces hard.

“Gonna work on sighting in and acquiring a moving target today,” Cory tells the other woman.

“Sounds like fun,” Evie says with a tinge of sarcasm and a smile touching her blue eyes.

“Wanna’ join us?” Cory invites cordially and even raises his dark, thick brows at the woman.

Paige isn’t sure how old Evie is, but she’s pretty sure that this Johnson daughter is a bit older than Cory. She laughs gaily at Cory’s invitation and then touches his arm with affection clearly written on her features.

“Ha, maybe another time, Cory,” she replies with a smile. “I’m working on making apple cider vinegar with my sister. I’ll send some over for Simon later.”

“Why?” Sam asks as she takes a rifle from its scabbard on Cory’s horse.

“Uh… I’m not sure actually,” Evie says with another smile. “He mentioned that he’d take a quart when we made it. Something about using it for some kind of new experimental medicine something or other. I don’t know. He usually loses me when he starts on those herbs and stuff.”

“You aren’t the only one,” Cory remarks and grins.

The way these two are acting makes Paige suspicious of what could be going on between them or what could’ve happened in their past together. Are they a thing, a couple, or whatever people are calling it these days? She’s not sure, but there is a lot of open smiling, grinning and, on Evie’s part, touching. Perhaps when he leaves at night he is visiting this woman, this lovely widow.

“Catch up with me before you leave and I’ll give you a quart or two, depending on what he wants. He said that you guys make apple cider vinegar, too, but he wants to try ours because our apple orchard has different trees in it,” she says while shrugging her slim shoulders.

Evie is much shorter than her, probably by a good four or five inches. She is also curvy, nothing like her. Paige feels graceless suddenly and turns to retrieve her own gun from its scabbard. The three of them continue to talk for a few moments before Cory announces that they should get to it since he doesn’t want to be away from the farm for long because Doc and Kelly are going somewhere to work on a gas line. Paige just offers a half grin and a wave to Evie before following Sam and Cory into the forestry of trees at the edge of the Johnson farm, which isn’t much different than the McClane farm other than the house sits practically right on the road. They have rolling hills of tillable ground and a forest, but more grazing acreage than the McClane spread, according to Sam.

They hike a short distance into the woods where Cory instructs them to stop.

“Let’s first see what you can do, all right?” he says.

“Not much,” Paige mumbles. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

Cory just chuckles, “Well, we know you’re good at running, but this family isn’t made up of runners. And you aren’t going to be able to run away from every situation.”

Sam sits on a fallen log and takes out her sketch pad and art supplies. Her rifle leans against the log near her leg.

“I can’t shoot well at all. I’m definitely better at evasion than sniping people. This is going to be a waste of your time,” Paige adds with criticism.

“Oh, don’t believe her, Cory,” Sam calls over without looking up. “She’s more lethal than she says. I’ve seen her handiwork.”

Paige knows that Samantha is referring to the night the farm was attacked, but she doesn’t have the heart to tell her new friend that most of her kills were likely a combination of blind luck and accidental kill shots. She knows she sucks.

“We’ll see,” Cory says softly as he loads the rifle for her. “You know this part, right?”

“Sort of,” she replies honestly.

“See here?” he asks, pointing with his dirty index finger to a bullet like a smart aleck. “Bullet. Goes in here.”

Paige has to bite back a nasty retort. Instead, she gives him a look that lets him know that he isn’t funny.

“This is a seven by six-two Mauser. Doc’s actually. He likes

the old, historical rifles. When we’re in the field, we’ll be using the military rifles, but not your brother. He usually carries a sniper rifle. He’s the best with the long range shots, so he’s normally our cover. I carry an M16, John, too. Sometimes Kelly carries a Garand- that’s a high power old rifle, a real shit-kicker, or an M4.”

She just nods. Paige has no idea what all these numbers and letters mean anyway.

“What will I carry? I’ve never done that before,” she tells him nervously and wipes her sweaty hands on her pants. “I usually just went with nothing.”

Cory’s eyes jump to hers, the brown depths express a deep concern. “Really? You didn’t have a gun?”

Paige shakes her head and explains, “No, not usually. A couple times, but we didn’t have any more bullet thingys, so what would’ve been the point? I had a knife. It broke when I was trying to cut wood with it, though. I just got really good at sneaking and avoiding people and…”

She pauses, shrugs, and bites her lower lip.

“What?” he asks.

“I just outran them if they saw me,” she answers.

Cory’s left eyebrow lifts with doubt. Then he frowns. He clearly doesn’t like her answer, but it’s the truth, nonetheless.

“That’s insane,” he says tersely and goes back to loading the rifle. “We won’t be doing that. You’ll listen to me. You’ll learn from me. And when we’re in the field, you will carry a weapon.”

“I will have a weapon. The same one I had before, my feet,” she grumbles at the rude, authoritative tone in his voice and the mandate.

Cory’s gaze slides impatiently to hers and he scowls. It’s enough to make Paige look away.

He says firmly, “We won’t be running.”

“Fine,” she says quietly.

“Good, let’s get started. I’ll let you shoot a few and then you can reload it yourself,” he offers.

He hands her the heavy rifle, which feels like it weighs forty pounds.

“See the bolt here? This is what will load a round into the chamber. A rifle doesn’t shoot unless the bullet thingy goes into the barrel,” he replies with a snarky wit.

“Ha-ha,” she says and shoots him a grimace.

“Put it up to your shoulder,” he says and stands behind her. “Press it snuggly to it. That’s it. We’re not gonna cowboy shoot this thing, you know, from the hip? That only works in movies. Don’t ever do that, unless you want one of us to make fun of you. Your weapon always goes against your shoulder.”

Cory helps her get it adjusted, and Paige tries not to think about him pressed against the back of her. His left arm slides to the end of her own, and he helps her to push the rifle a little higher into the air.

“This is the bolt,” he says and takes her right hand into his own.

His hot breath hits her neck where the bandana has her hair concealed, exposing bare skin. His grip is sure and firm as he uses her hand to slide the bolt back and then forward again.

Cory steps back and says, “See that tree over there across the field? The one that’s down partway with the red leaves?”

Paige nods and says, “Yes.”

“Let’s just see if you can hit the trunk, anywhere. Doesn’t matter, just try to hit it.”

“That’s a really long way,” Paige observes as she stares down the barrel of the rifle. The tree he speaks of is across a broad meadow sprinkled with white daisies.

“It’s a really good gun, so you’re in luck,” he remarks with a smile touching his voice. “Here, wait.”

He presses tiny orange sponges into her ears.

“Don’t want you to lose your hearing,” he says.

“What about you?”

“I’m already deaf… and mostly dumb, so we’re good,” he self-criticizes.

“I could’ve told you that,” she whispers.

“Take a breath,” he says behind her. “Let it half out. Squeeze gently. She’ll bark, but you can handle ‘er.”

Paige’s eyes widen. She squeezes one eye closed, tries to take aim, and squeezes. Total miss. And the gun is like a cannon going off not a bark as he’d called it.

Cory tells her to do it again and she does and misses once again. This goes on two more times before her frustration gets the best of her.

“Damn it!” she hisses as Cory takes the rifle from her.

“Houston, we’ve got a problem,” he jokes.

Paige fails to find the humor and smashes her hands onto her hips impatiently.

“I told you I suck,” she retorts.

“No, you don’t. But if I’m right- and I usually am- you are left-eye dominant trying to shoot right-eye dominant.”

She tries not to roll her eyes at his machismo.

“What’s that mean?” she asks.

Sam, who is her normal quiet, tiny self, pipes up and says, “You’re closing the wrong eye. That’s why you aren’t hitting anything.”

Then she goes right back to whatever she’s drawing. She’s always in her own little world, a place she likes to escape to where the outside world can’t reach her.

“Here,” Cory says and takes the rifle from her and pulls out the string-attached ear plugs. “Come over here for a second, Paige.”

His deep voice is commanding and the sound of her name coming from him has a strange effect on her insides. He leads her toward the edge of the woods facing the Johnson farm.

“See the rooster on that weather vane on their barn, the smaller barn?” he asks

“Yes,” Paige answers with confusion as he points into the distance. Paige isn’t sure how he can wear nothing but a short-sleeved shirt while she has on a long-sleeved sweater and a jacket. The fall air is crisp this morning.

“Now, I’m gonna hold my hands in a circle in front of your face.”

Paige gives him a look of perplexed resistance and steps back. He grins and steps closer and holds his hands about a foot in front of her, forming his fingertips into a circle.

“Now close your right eye,” he orders.

She gives him another look. Cory just raises his eyebrows with impatience, so she gives in.

“Still see it?”

“Yes,” Paige answers.

“Now the left,” he says.

“Wait, it moved,” she exclaims with surprise.

“Do it again,” he says and they perform the task once more.

“It disappeared again,” Paige says with a furrow of her light brows.

“Ok, well, now we know what the problem is,” he says and takes her arm, leading her back to where he rested the rifle against the tree.

“I suck? Like I tried to tell you?”

“No, you probably don’t suck at all. You just didn’t have the right skills to work with the equipment,” he tells her.

Cory takes her back to the same spot where Samantha is still perched on her log, drawing with fervor. She puts her own set of earplugs back in and keeps on sketching away.

“Let’s try this again,” he tells her and presses the gun into her hand.

Paige sighs long and with great exaggeration, “You really think that eye trick is gonna make me the next Annie Oakley?”

“Yep, take aim,” he orders.

Paige offers him a scowl and raises the rifle to her shoulder again.

“Nope,” Cory says and takes the rifle. “Right there is the first problem.”

“What do you mean?”

He places a large hand on her left shoulder and twists her body just slightly. Then he places the gun back into her hands and helps her pull it up into her left shoulder. It feels awkward. Of course, guns always feel awkward to her.

“Try it now,” Cory says.

He uses both hands this time to turn her shoulders a little more. Then he goes too far, nearly causing her to jump, and places his hands on her hips and gives them a small twist.

“Breathe,” he says into her ear.

“Give me some space!” she hisses.

She glares over her shoulder at him, which makes Cory grin at her in return. That elusive dimple peeks at her from his right cheek. Paige glares at it, too. Then she takes aim.

“We’ll get you outfitted with a different rifle back at the farm before we go to the city, but for practice today, let’s just keep with this one. Load a round into the chamber. Take your time,” he instructs patiently.

His voice is actually soothing. Paige does as he says and aims at the fallen log with the red leaves. She squeezes and bam! She hits her target.

“Good. Again,” he orders behind her.

Paige does it again.

“Good. Stay here,” he says.

“What? Why? Where are you going?” Paige asks.

Cory takes the rifle from her, unloads it and rests it against the tree. He takes the pieces of white paper that Sam is already holding out to him. They apparently don’t need a lot of words in order to communicate. Paige watches as he jogs across the pasture and tacks the papers to three different branches. Unfortunately, the branches wave around in the breeze. She’s never going to hit any of those. While she waits for Cory to finish and jog back, she takes a look at what Sam has been drawing. She’s not sure Sam even notices her as she hovers.

The sketch is of her and Cory standing near the copse of trees shooting. She has no idea how Sam has sketched this out so quickly. She’s a little maniac. Paige isn’t sure she is truly fond of the subject material, however. Cory is standing behind her, his arm under her own, assisting her. It’s too personal and almost intimate as if they are friends or lovers just out enjoying the fall day shooting guns. None of that even makes sense. But it does seem too intimate. She just frowns and returns to the tree line to join her enemy.

“Ready to go again?” he asks.

Paige nods with reluctance but does as he says. She got a big lecture, thankfully in private, last night from her brother. He’d warned her to cooperate and be respectful of Cory while he’s training her.

“Sure, but don’t get too excited. I don’t think I can hit those,” she warns him.

“Have some confidence in yourself, woman,” Cory says with a smile.

A few minutes later, she has obliterated her paper targets to nothingness, rendering Sam’s art paper to shreds. And it feels pretty darn good not being a total loser who misses everything when everyone else in the McClane family can shoot like a professionally trained sniper.

“Clear your weapon before we move on,” Cory says.

She doesn’t really know what he means, so he shows her patiently. If there was one thing that the family said about Cory so far that’s true, it’s that he is a very patient instructor.

“Now, let’s go have some fun,” he prompts.

The three of them tromp farther into the forest, quite a bit farther until they come to another pasture that isn’t enclosed with fencing. The field is cut as if the family has made hay in this particular pasture.

“We’ll shoot prone for this. I want to see how you do with that, too, just in case you’d ever need it,” Cory tells her.

Sam lies on her stomach on the soft bedding of the forest floor just inside the woods.

“Like this, Paige,” she says to her.

“Oh, all right,” Paige replies and mimics Samantha’s movements.

“It doesn’t take long to spot them,” Sam tells her. “They pop out pretty quick.”

“You don’t mind shooting animals?”

“Nope, not groundhogs,” Sam says. “I had a friend in my riding academy who almost had to put her horse down for a strained fetlock because of a stupid groundhog hole in her pasture.”

No wonder, Paige thinks. Sam and her stupid horses and her unbridled love of the dumb beasts.

Cory kneels down on one knee between them and helps Paige get her own rifle set up.

“Found one,” Sam says a moment later before Paige even has a chance to get a bullet in her gun.

“Fire at will, kid,” Cory instructs.

A second later, Sam’s rifle report cracks through the still air. Her gun doesn’t seem as loud as Paige’s. She wishes she could trade with Sam. This thing kicks hard. Her shoulder is surely going to be bruised.

“Got it,” Sam reports.

Paige grimaces. Gross.

“Find one?” Cory prompts.

“No, I don’t see anything,” Paige answers, scanning the area.

“You will. Just relax. Pretend it’s a creep thug out there trying to steal from you or something,” he says.

His hand lands softly on her right shoulder. Then he gives a gentle squeeze. If he’s trying to distract her, it’s working.

“There’s one,” he announces.

So maybe he isn’t attempting to distract her because he’s obviously scanning the pasture better than her. Then she spots it.

“Fire when you’re ready,” he says quietly.

Paige does as he says and hits her target. Then she feels like shit. What a jerk! She’s gone from being a vegan to an innocent animal slaughterer.

“Good,” Cory exclaims and pats her shoulder roughly.

Paige tries to conceal her frown. It’s hard to get over her distaste for shooting animals. Then again, if she and Simon ever leave the McClane farm, she knows for certain that she’ll need better shooting skills. She’s already been out there trying to survive and did a barely passable job of it. Her lack of skill had nearly cost her the only friends she’d had in the world. It had cost her roommate and friends from college their lives. She could never let anything happen to her brother. He’s the only family she has left. He’s the most important person in her life, and she needs to be able to protect him and watch his back.

They shoot for about another hour, sometimes from a one-knee position, sometimes from the prone position and a few more times from the standing position. Paige actually starts having fun. She doesn’t relish the killing of the groundhogs part, but she does like shooting more than she’d thought she would. Cory lets her trade rifles with Sam to try out hers. He explains that she needs to be familiar with any and all of the different guns and their calibers on the farm. She finds out that it’s called a Ruger 10/22. Then he has her shoot at small targets around the forest with the handguns he’d brought. Sam gets bored and ditches them and heads back for the Johnson farm to retrieve her horse and go home. She’s safe to do so because there isn’t any danger between their property and the McClane farm. Plus, Paige knows that Chet Reynolds and Kelly are on patrols until Cory returns.

“See? You don’t suck at all,” Cory tells her as they walk side by side back to his horse.

“It’s kind of fun,” Paige says reluctantly.

“Yeah, it is. I guess I don’t usually see it like that,” he confesses softly as the house comes into view.

He doesn’t expand on that thought but looks off into the distance.

Evie Johnson is waiting for them near Cory’s mammoth horse. She is tying a sack onto his saddle horn.

“Hey!” she calls over. “Have any luck?”

“Sure did,” Cory tells her when they get to Evie. He replaces the rifle to its scabbard.

“Well, good,” Evie says, a smile touching her mouth. “You’ve got a great teacher, Paige.”

Paige doesn’t really want to comment on that, so she gives a nod instead. Cory swipes a hand through his hair, attempting to secure it back into its ponytail. He still looks like a barbarian to her.

“I don’t know about that,” Cory says with a chuff.

“Oh, you are. You’re awesome. You taught me a lot about shooting, more than I knew before,” Evie tells them.

“You’ve taught me some things, too,” he quips with a grin that conceals quite a lot.

Evie’s cheeks redden slightly. Paige doesn’t miss it. She also doesn’t miss the other woman’s eyes slide over Cory’s body quickly.

“That’s the vinegar for Simon,” Evie stammers, indicating the canvas sack.

“Cool,” Cory replies. “I’ll make sure he gets it.”

He and Evie stand uncomfortably in silence and so does Paige because she hardly knows the other woman and isn’t quite sure how to go about small-talk with her. But she and Cory are certainly familiar, and Paige believes her earlier assumptions to be true, especially after the strange cavern of silence and the cryptic tone of their conversation.

“Good, thanks,” Evie blurts.

“Catch ya’ another time,” Cory says, which comes off more as a promise.

This time, Paige’s cheeks redden, or at least they feel like they do. For some reason, the thought of him sneaking off every night to meet up with Evie Johnson bothers her and she can’t for the life of her fathom why. She couldn’t care less with whom he’s sleeping around. It just goes to show Evie’s poor taste in men.

He mounts the stallion again and tugs her up behind him.

“See you later,” Evie says to Cory.

“Maybe,” he hints with a cocky grin.

“Bye, Paige,” Evie says.

Paige just gives her a wave as he turns the horse toward the path home. They don’t gallop across the pastures again. Cory steers his horse toward the forest where they take a well-trodden path. The foliage has started turning from those reds and bright yellows of early autumn to the drabber browns of dead leaves.

“You wanna’ drive?” he asks jokingly.

“No way!” Paige tells him honestly. She has zero desire to be in charge of his wild horse.

“You’re gonna need to get over your fear of the horses. We can’t always take vehicles to get where we need to go anymore.”

“Then I’ll stay at home on those days. Besides, I thought we were taking the truck when we go to Nashville.”

“We are, but you still need to learn how to ride,” Cory says. “I’ll work with you on that, too.”

“No thanks,” Paige mumbles. He smirks over his shoulder at her.

“I’ll show you some of the basic hand signals we use. I’ll go over them later in the cabin before bed,” he tells her.

Paige is still contemplating whether or not Cory is having an affair with the Johnson daughter so his statement surprises her.

“Ok, fine,” she says.

“Anything else you might need instruction on?” he asks, his gaze hot on hers.

“Not from you!”

Cory just chuckles and turns back around in the saddle.

“There are a lot of tactics and maneuvers we’ll need to cover before I agree to take you with me. I know the guys want us to go soon, so we’ll need to cram,” he says before turning the horse up a short incline. “Lean forward.”

She does as he orders, leaning into him. He smells like sweat and horse and gun smoke and something else that is unrecognizable but not unpleasant. The second the ground levels out again, Paige straightens back up to put some space between them.

“When we go out, you’ll pair up with me,” he informs her. “We’ve discussed it. Simon and Sam will stick together.”

“Who discussed it? I wasn’t in on that discussion and I don’t like the result.”

“Me and John,” Cory says.

“I’d rather go with my brother,” she says, a little miffed.

“We know. That’s why you won’t be.”

“How’s that make sense?”

“Because you need to get used to working with other people, too. And Sam is used to going with Simon. They make a good team,” he says, maneuvering the horse around a fallen log that has rotted nearly through.

“Then why don’t we all four stick together?”

“It doesn’t work that way. We go in pairs of two. If only two of us go, then we generally stick together. That’s just how it works,” he says and then pauses. “Maybe we’ll end up making a good team, too.”

Paige snorts through her nose, causing him to laugh loudly. His laughter is infectious and she finds herself smiling.

“If you don’t threaten to kill me again, then maybe,” she tells him.

“I already apologized for that. Remember?” he asks. “Damn, you can hold a grudge.”

“You didn’t just threaten to kill me. Remember?” she asks, using his own words against him.

Cory sighs and says, “Yes, I remember. I wouldn’t actually have raped you. You have to have figured that out by now, right?”

“You seemed pretty serious about it that day,” she says.

“No, I was just bluffing,” he says tightly. “I wouldn’t have. Besides, you had my brother’s gun and were wearing my damn shirt. What would you have thought if our roles were reversed?”

“I would’ve asked questions, not threatened to rape and kill you!” Paige exclaims vehemently.

“That’s a relief,” he says lightly.

“What is?”

“That you wouldn’t have raped me… or threatened to,” he jokes.

Paige pinches his side, causing him to jump slightly.

“Hey!” he barks.

“What?” she asks with a laugh. “Wait, are you ticklish?”

“No, but don’t do that again or you’ll find out,” he warns.

“Huh, I think I’ve found your kryptonite,” she teases.

“Back to our first inopportune meeting,” he retorts with a touch of heat. “You need to think about how you would’ve reacted if you thought someone had killed your brother and taken his gun.”

“Fine, so maybe I’ve been holding a grudge,” she admits. That’s all he’s getting. She still doesn’t trust Cory. She probably never will. He’s big, imposing, caveman-like, and dangerous. No way, she’ll never fully trust him.

“Maybe?”

Paige doesn’t answer. Instead, she stares off to the side, ignoring him. He glances over his shoulder at her and grins smugly as if he’s just won their debate. Fat chance. Not only is he untrustworthy, he’s irritating and arrogant. She’s going to ask her brother if she can stick with him when they go on this raid together. Sam seems to like Cory just fine. She can partner with him.

When they get back to the barn, he extends his forearm, allowing her to hold onto it to get down. Then he swings down and starts toward the barn. She follows dutifully, thinking she should help him with the dumb beast. He hooks the impatient horse to a tie and starts pulling on straps and strips of leather and buckles. She has no idea how to get all of this gear onto a horse let alone back off of one.

After a few minutes of trying to help, Cory says, “You’re in the way. Just go wait over there and hold this rifle.”

He shoves the heavy Mauser into her hands and then gives her a dismissive snub of his nose. She doesn’t supply an argument but hits him with an angry stare.

“I have to relieve Kelly on watch duty, so you’re pretty much free to go,” he tells her dismissively.

Paige feels put out by his rudeness. His mood has darkened.

“Drop that rifle in the armory. Later, I’ll show you how to properly clean one,” he says when he turns toward her with the sweaty saddle.

“Oh, I thought you’d be busy later visiting Evie Johnson,” she retorts and could kick herself for being such an idiot. She even frowns.

Cory’s head jerks up and he looks surprised by her comment. He can’t be any more surprised than she is that she’d blurted it.

“And why would you care about what I do with my free time, beanpole?”

Paige swallows hard, clears her voice and raises her chin defiantly, “I don’t! You can plow it wherever you want.”

“That’s presumptuous of you,” he remarks and sets the saddle against a stall door.

“Really? And you aren’t sleeping with the neighbor’s daughter? Probably half of the women in town, too?” she asks, although kicking herself would make more sense.

“That’s none of your business, witch,” he says with a smirk and crosses his arms over his chest, planting his feet wide.

Paige feels her nostrils flare. Her cheeks must be getting red. She spins on the ball of her foot and leaves the barn in a fit of anger. What the hell?

When she glances back, Cory is leaning his shoulder against the wide open barn door staring at her with deep contemplation. What an idiot! Why had she said any of that? She doesn’t give one snippet who he’s screwing. So why had she gone down that road? What a perfect fool she is.