Elysium: The Plantation Series Book IV by Gretchen Craig

Author:Gretchen Craig [Craig, Gretchen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pendleton Press
Published: 2015-09-15T04:00:00+00:00

~~~

The next morning, Frederick did not appear for breakfast. Once the dishes were done, Lily sat at the kitchen table with Uncle Garvey learning how the revolving mechanism worked and how to load the pistol.

"Alistair only loaded one bullet at a time."

Uncle Garvey laughed. "Sounds like a soldier who had a bad experience teaching a young fellow to shoot."

"I want to keep the pistol with me. I want it loaded, all the way."

"Nah, honey. That’s dangerous. Nobody walks around with all six chambers filled lessen they’re about to go into battle. You drop it, you knock the hammer on something, it’ll go off and . . . " He heaved a breath. "We got two little girls on the place."

She caught her lower lip in her teeth, thinking. "If the hammer hits on an empty chamber, nothing happens. The revolver part just moves on to the next chamber and waits for the trigger to be pulled again, right?"

"That’s right."

"So if I put the bullet in say, the third chamber, I’d have to pull the trigger twice before the bullet was up for the next trigger pull."

"Yeah."

"Is that as safe as it sounds?"

"Well, I suppose it is. Yeah."

"I can’t be out in the garden, have the raiders charge onto the place, and me with an empty gun."

Uncle Garvey eyed her. "You’re not thinking about putting a bullet in your husband, Lily."

Her mouth quirked up. "I killed him once. That will have to do."

"Then let’s go shoot some gourds."

After practice, Lily watched Uncle Garvey clean and reassemble the pistol at the kitchen table.

"Think you can do it next time?" he asked.

"Probably. But I’d hate to put the thing together backwards and end up shooting myself. I’d appreciate another lesson or two, Uncle Garvey."

"Then that’s what we’ll do. Alistair will be pleased at how well you shot today."

Lily turned away. Alistair wouldn’t be pleased with her ever again. He’d left for New Orleans as soon as she told the truth, getting as far away from her as he could. She didn’t blame him, but it hurt.

Frederick ambled into the kitchen. "What’s all the shooting this morning. You aiming to do me in again, Lily?"

Uncle Garvey scowled at him. "That is in poor taste, Mr. Palmer."

Frederick laughed. "A Southern gentleman, chivalrous to the end."

"Yes, by God." Uncle Garvey scraped his chair back, collected his pistol and the chamois. "I’ll be just upstairs, Lily, you need me."

Lily wanted to slap the smirk off Frederick’s face. When had he become so smug, so superior? Toward the end of the war, she thought. The shoe manufacturer he worked for saw the orders from the U. S. Army drying up, no longer any need for thousands upon thousands of shoes for soldiers. Frederick had made good money during those years he took orders from the government, not just for shoes, but for leather harness, saddlebags, holsters. He’d bought the house on Cavendish Square for her, had put some money in the bank. And then the factory closed. All those soldiers came home and there were not enough jobs for all of them.

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