"I'm not sure I want to," Emma admitted as she stared at the piece of iron and wood resting in Liam's hand.

A gun.

Guns were dangerous and deadly and Emma wanted nothing to do with taking someone's life.

Liam shook his head. "Whether you want to or not, you need to. What if I hadn't been around when that mountain lion attacked you yesterday? What if it had come earlier on the trail before you'd gotten to the cabin?"

Emma sighed. "I know, Liam. I know that it could have killed me..." She bit her lip. "But guns kill, Liam.. I couldn't kill a person..."

Emma saw Liam's eyes turn haunted just before he opened the cylinder of his revolver and check the rounds inside. "You'd be surprised just what you'll do when it comes right down to it, Emma. And I'm not saying you need to learn to shoot so you can kill every person you ever meet. I just want to know you can protect yourself against critters like that lion."

Emma was still nervous, still uncertain and still uncomfortable. But, she could tell just how important this was to Liam. She knew he blamed himself for the incident with Shade. She knew that if anything else ever happened to her—or even almost happened to her—Liam would blame himself.

If teaching her to shoot a gun gave him a bit of comfort and assurance than Emma would let him. After all he'd done for her, it certainly wasn't too much to ask.

"Okay. But you'll have to tell me exactly what to do. I've never used a gun before."

Liam beamed, clearly happy she'd come around. He showed her the gun. "First rule is, always treat a gun like it's loaded, even if you aren't sure it is. Never point a gun at anything or anyone unless you want to shoot that target. And you don't ever touch that trigger until you're ready to fire a bullet. Too many people get trigger itch and pull it too soon—that's how bad accidents tend to happen."

Emma swallowed hard and nodded. This lesson certainly wasn't making her feel any more comfortable about using a gun.

Next, Liam went through the steps of teaching her to load the weapon. When Emma was fairly capable of doing that, he turned her attention to a stump in the yard with a scrap of fur tied tight around it.

"There's your critter, Emma. Time to learn how to shoot it."

Liam stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her. He placed his arms over hers and guided her as she tried to take aim.

"You want to line those sights there up with the target. You should be able to see the front sight between the back ones... take your time. Take a deep breath in, let it out real slow and squeeze the trigger—don't pull it real hard or your shot will jump."

Emma attempted to remember all that as she held the gun. She had it aimed at the target and so she slowly breathed out before pulling the trigger.

The gun jumped in her hand and the sound of the bullet ricocheted loudly in her ears. Quickly, she turned her head to look at Liam. "Did I hit it?"

He had a proud smile on his face as a chuckle rumbled from his chest, vibrating against her back. "No. But you got close." He must have noticed her disappointment because he kissed her hair. "Don't feel bad, love. Nobody hits the target the first time. I have boxes and boxes of ammunition and we have all day. You'll be shooting just as good as me in no time."

By the time they called it a day, Emma realized that while Liam might have been exaggerating about just how good of a shot she would be, she had gotten much better. Most of her shots had begun to hit the target. They were spread out and not close together the way Liam's were but Emma was proud of herself all the same.

And shooting had taken away much of her fear of the weapon. Learning the weapon had helped her to understand it and with understanding came a certain comfort.

And the pride on Liam's face as she'd gotten better and better had been well worth overcoming her fear.

Liam pulled her into his chest once they were finished and kissed her brow lovingly. "You're a hell of a woman, Emma."

Pride blossomed in her chest as she snuggled close against him. Liam pulled away and took her hand in his. "I want you to start carrying a gun when you're going into town and I'm not with you."

"Liam...."

"Please?" he insisted. "It'd do a hell of a lot to ease my mind and you'll probably never have to use it."

Emma sighed. She knew she couldn't tell him no... not when Liam rarely asked her for anything and it was concern for her causing him to ask now.

"Okay. I'll carry one when I go to town."

She glanced up at the sky and realized evening was approaching. "I'd better go start supper. I'm sure you're getting hungry."

Liam shook his head, twining the fingers of their clasped hands together. "Can we go for a walk around the valley? There's something I've been wanting to talk to you about."

Emma frowned. "Of course... is everything okay?"

"I'm just confused and I'd like to talk about it with someone I trust."

Emma's frown quickly morphed into a smile. "Talk away."

As they strolled slowly, hand-in-hand, Liam spoke about his father. He spoke about the way his father had never been and how the man who was here now was not the same man who had been around then. He told Emma about his confusion toward this new version of his father and he admitted that he wasn't sure how to accept him or move forward.

They came to a stop beside the river and Emma put her hands on Liam's chest as she looked up into his eyes. "Patrick, the man he is now, is a good one. You're right when you say he's changed. Liam, he cares for you and I think you care for him too."

"I don't know how... I don't know how to show him that, Emma. I'm not ready to throw my arms around him and call him pa."

Emma smiled. Of course he wasn't. Liam was a man who did not say anything unless he was certain he wanted to say it and he didn't make a move until he was positive it was the one he wanted. He was a private man who wouldn't openly display his feelings until he was good and ready.

"Small steps then," she offered. "He is still sleeping in the barn."

A smile curved Liam's lips, accenting his sharp features. He stooped low and pressed a tender kiss to her lips, leaving Emma breathless and wanting more. "My wife is such a smart woman."

Liam stood on the porch, looking out at the land around him. His cabin was nearly complete. His father had worked tirelessly right beside him to finish the work—the old man didn't deserve to call the barn his home.

Stepping off the porch, Liam made his way to the barn and found Patrick inside sitting on a bucket and sharpening his knife. "Hello there, son. Is supper ready?"

Liam shook his head. "No, she's got it cooking though," he replied, absently motioning toward the house.

Patrick chuckled as he continued to look at the blade and stone in his hand. "I saw some of that target practice today. You better be careful. Emma seems to be a natural and after a few more practices she'll be dangerous with that weapon—you're gonna have to walk the line."

"I've always had good balance," Liam assured him. He rubbed at his neck and cleared his throat as he shuffled his feet.

Patrick seemed to notice his discomfort and looked up. "Is something wrong, son?"

Liam gripped the banister beside him with one hand and avoided his father's gaze. "We're gonna need to get some more logs cut."

"What for? The cabin doesn't need anymore—unless you plan on having a wagonload of youngins," he added with a grin.

Liam swallowed hard and squared his shoulders. It was time to stop being a little boy. He met his father's gaze. "I figure since you're sticking around, you need a better place to sleep than the barn loft. There's plenty of room in the valley and plenty of good weather left this year to get a cabin built."

Patrick's eyes widened. "Are you sure, son?"

Liam nodded. "I'm sure."

For a moment Liam thought his father might stand and hug him and was grateful when he remained seated and went back to sharpening his knife. "That'll be real nice, Liam. Thank you."