A Match Made in Heaven by Colleen Coble

Author:Colleen Coble
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781937515362
Publisher: Spencerhill Associates, Ltd.
Published: 2012-08-27T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 4

All the activity made Callie’s head swim. Men were selling, cleaning, and repairing guns, grooming horses, practicing shooting, riding by with wild Indian whoops of delight, and generally making a noisy scene. The sun shone in a blue blaze of good weather and good times. A dust devil spun out its short life in the distance against a backdrop of saguaro, prickly pear, and cholla cactus.

“Here—take my guns.” Nick offered her the handle of a trunk on large wheels.

She tugged on it and found it rolled easily over the rough, sandy ground. Callie pulled it out of the way and watched as Nick led his horse out of the trailer and tied him to a post. Taking a tarp and poles, he quickly erected a lean-to shelter from the sun and put the horse under it.

He knelt beside the chest at Callie’s feet and opened it. Pulling out a gun and holster, he strapped them on then grabbed a rifle from the chest as well.

“I can’t believe this,” she said. She’d been smiling so widely as she looked around that her face ached. “Cowboy Action Shooting. You training to be in a movie?” This man was full of surprises, and to her amazement she found she liked that.

“Nope, just having a good time.” Nick took the handle of his gun cart from her and started toward a white canvas tent. “I have to register.”

Men and women hailed him as they passed, and Callie could tell Nick was well-liked. Men slapped him on the back and called him Ace, and women smiled flirtatiously—though to his credit he simply smiled and nodded. He stopped in the registration tent, paid his money, and signed up.

“I’ll be assigned to a posse soon,” he explained. “It’s the group I’ll shoot with all day.”

“Congratulations, Ace!” an older man with a handlebar mustache called from the corner. “I heard you won the Ben Avery shoot in traditional.”

Nick grinned. “Dumb luck. Deuce Derringer was having an off day.”

“What was he talking about?” Callie whispered as they went on their way.

“Winter Range was two months ago. I won the traditional division. That’s where we have to shoot with only weapons that would have been around in the 1800s. I’m the national champion.”

“Wow.” Callie glanced up at him. She could believe he would be the best at anything he did. Confidence and intelligence were as interwoven in his face and bearing as the warp and woof of a Navajo blanket.

“What’s with the weird names? Ace and Deuce?” Callie was finding it hard to grasp everything.

“We all take handles. I’m Ace Derringer, an uncle is Deuce Derringer, and my grandpa is Pa Derringer. He won the senior division at Winter Range. I have another uncle who got us all started. He’s known as Macon Sackett, and he won the duelist division.”

“Sounds like your family swept the awards. Are they here today?” Callie craned her neck and stared at the crowd to see if she could find anyone who looked like Nick.

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