“Hey, what’s your brother doing?” Becky asked.
Josie looked up and spotted Ethan, walking toward his battered truck, a shotgun in one hand and the pie to be delivered to their grandparents balanced on the other. “I don’t know, but he’s definitely not supposed to be doing that,” Josie said, hands on her hips.
“You are so lucky to have a big brother. He’s so cute. Let’s go see where he’s going,” Becky said, brushing the remaining pellets from her hands, and before Josie could stop her, she was running after Ethan.
“What are you going to shoot?” Becky asked breathlessly when they caught up with him.
“Kids who follow me around and won’t shut up,” Ethan said, barely glancing their way.
“Ha, ha,” Josie deadpanned. “It’s not even hunting season yet. Does dad know you’re taking a gun to grandpa’s?”
“I can hunt pigeons or groundhogs anytime, and no, Dad doesn’t need to know every little thing I do. Besides, I’m just going to shoot at targets.”
“Yeah, he’ll never hear the gunshots. Good plan there, Ethan,” Josie smirked, looking over at Becky, but she was focused on Ethan.
“Can we go with you?” Becky asked.
“Suit yourself,” Ethan muttered as he carefully placed the shotgun in the gun rack in the back window of his truck. The girls climbed in and Becky commented on how clean it was. She poked around in his glove box, sorting through his things, pulling out a pack of gum and a tin of mints.
“You must really like fresh breath,” Becky said with a laugh. Ethan blushed. Becky pulled out the Green Lantern figurine that Ethan kept in his glove box as a good luck charm and spoke in a low voice and walked the figure across his arm.
“Knock it off,” Ethan said in a way that let Josie know he liked the attention Becky was giving him.
Becky chattered happily as Ethan sped down their lane and pulled right up to the porch and the red front door. “Run this in really fast and give it to grandma,” Ethan ordered. “And don’t hang around gabbing. I’m in a hurry.”
Josie awkwardly climbed over Becky to exit the truck, the pie tipping dangerously. Not wanting to antagonize her brother, she did as Ethan said. Josie opened the front door without knocking and hurried to the kitchen where her grandparents, Matthew and Caroline Ellis, finished their own supper.
She said a hurried goodbye, and when she returned to the truck, she saw that Becky had moved so close to Ethan that their legs were touching. Josie climbed into the cab and the truck tires were spinning before she even shut the door. Instead of driving directly home, Ethan made a sharp right onto a dirt road that followed the creek’s flow.
“What are you doing?” Josie asked. “Mom said to come right home.”
“I’m just going to shoot for a few minutes,” Ethan said as they approached a stand of Black Hills spruce on the west side of their grandfather’s property and pulled up next to a rusty silver truck that was parked next to the road. “Cutter,” Ethan said through the open window.
“Hey,” the boy responded with a lift of a pimply chin. Cutter was one of the boys that Ethan was forbidden to hang out with anymore.
“Stay here,” Ethan ordered.
Josie and Becky ignored him and climbed from the truck.
“Josie,” Ethan said, his voice heavy with warning.
“What?” Josie asked innocently, her eyes wide. Next to her, Becky stifled a laugh.
“Why’d you bring them?” Cutter asked, nodding toward Josie and Becky. Cutter had a first name, but no one called him by it. He was tall and broad chested with straw-colored hair and deeply tanned skin from his hours spent working outside on the family farm. He had round, full cheeks and an easy smile that at first glance made him appear mild tempered and jovial, but upon closer inspection, his eyes were hard and held more mean than mischief.
“We’re not kids,” Becky said.
Cutter gave a little laugh that matched his eyes and looked the girls up and down, pausing when his eyes landed on Becky’s chest. “Maybe one of you isn’t,” he said.
“Come on, I only have a few minutes,” Ethan said, pulling his shotgun from the gun rack.
“That the one your grandpa gave you?” Cutter asked.
“Yeah,” Ethan said and grabbed an old bucket from the truck’s bed and walked about fifty yards away. They watched as he flipped the bucket over and set it on an old stump, then walked back. “Now, stand back.”