Husband Fur Hire (Bears Fur Hire #1)(50)

“Ian?”

“Hmm?”

“When you wake up next spring, I’ll still be in this. I’ll still want you to be my husband.”

This woman… Ian swallowed hard and brushed a strand of damp hair from her forehead. She was everything good about his life now. How anyone so brave, determined, loyal, and beautiful had picked a man like him, he wouldn’t ever understand. All he could do was try his best to make her happy when he could because that right there, her slow smile, was the thing he coveted most in this world.

He pulled her left hand to his lips and kissed the gold band on her finger. “Big wedding or small?”

“Small. And I want it to be here.”

“Done,” he promised.

Elyse leaned her cheek onto the bathtub ledge, right near his, so he let his lips linger on her wet hair and ran a light finger up and down her spine.

She bore his mark now, and he bore hers, and he would do anything to keep her.

And now, while he was awake enough to be of use to her, he would give her the tools she would need to protect herself from what was coming.

Elyse didn’t understand yet, but she would. Miller asking Josiah about her meant she hadn’t ever really escaped the McCalls. That crazy werewolf had killed one of her cows. It wasn’t vengeance that made him hunt her herd.

Miller was marking his territory.

And Ian would be damned if he went to sleep without teaching Elyse how to defend herself from the wolves.

Starting tomorrow, his beautiful badass would become a weapon.





Chapter Eighteen


“Again,” Ian murmured.

Elyse lifted the rifle to her shoulder and put the scope on the target of the wolf Ian had sketched out on brown butcher paper and nailed to a tree a hundred yards off.

“Tighter to your shoulder. Even tighter. Spare your body the kick so you won’t be sore.”

“Ha,” she muttered. Tomorrow was going to suck. No doubt she would be black and blue since she hadn’t listened to Ian’s advice the first hour, and now her shoulder ached like she’d taken a solid kick from Demon’s hoof.

“Remember what I said. Repeat it in your mind, and with enough practice, it’ll become second nature.”

Keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to shoot. Sight on the target. Focus on your muscles. Don’t shake. Hold the gun tight and steady. Three slow breaths, and on the third, hold it, and brush your finger on the trigger. Don’t jerk it. Brush it like paint on a canvas.

Boom!

Reload in case the animal needs a second shot.

Ian had been working with her for six straight hours on every gun she owned. She now knew the name of each and its ammunition, and what gun was best for each situation.

“Good,” he said low. “You want to see the damage?”

“Yeah.” Not because she needed to see if she’d hit the mark. Bark had flown with each shot so she knew she’d been on target, but her shoulder needed a rest. Ian didn’t have to know that little tidbit, though.

Elyse turned the gun back over and shoved the bullet back down out of the chamber and safely into the magazine, then slid the bolt in place with a satisfying click of metal to keep the bullet out of the chamber. This was the first layer of protection, and the second was when she physically clicked the safety into place. Chambering the bullet was as easy as pulling her bolt handle back, slamming the bullet forward, and releasing that safety button right before she pulled the trigger. She and Ian had worked on that over and over until it was as natural as breathing. He seemed just as determined to have her constantly aware of gun safety as he was of working on her marksmanship.

Anticipation surged through her as they hiked closer to the target, and she saw where she’d really been hitting. This was her closest grouping all day, and the grin on Ian’s face said he was proud of her improvement, too. He hugged her against his side and said, “Woman, I think you’ve got this.”

Damn, that man knew how to lift her up. He was a good teacher who didn’t ever put her down. If she messed up, he would simply go over and over the correct way until she understood the how and why. His comments weren’t ever biting either. Ian was patient, calm, and generous with letting her know when she did something right. And the beaming smile on his face now made her heart swell. She was glad she hadn’t given up earlier when her arm had first begun to get sore. From the start, she should’ve trusted him. The tighter against her shoulder she held the weapons, the less recoil she endured when she pulled that trigger.

“I need to eat,” he said.

“Again?” He’d been eating constantly all day.

His smile turned sad. “That’s how it gets…”

“At the end? Like real bears do…you have to eat a lot right before you go to sleep, right?”

Ian led her back toward the table he’d dragged out for the rifles. “Right, but I still don’t feel tired, Elyse. We still have time.”

He kept saying that, but he could never tell her how much time. Shouldering a couple of her rifles while he shoved ammo into his pockets, she said, “I’ve got work to do in the house today.”

“Yeah?”

“Laundry. Contain your jealousy.”

“I can help if you want.”

Imagining him washing her delicates with his big, rough hands, she snickered and shook her head. “Polite decline.”