spun her so she faced the target—the silhouette of a man.
Moving in close behind her, he nudged her knees. “Stand with your feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent.”
Awareness of his hard chest pressed against her back robbed her brain of any coherent thought. It took a second for her to adjust her stance.
“Now, pick up your weapon.”
With hands that shook, she lifted the handgun, fitting her palm against the handle but keeping her finger away from the trigger just as he’d demonstrated.
He slid his hands down her arms to cover her hands. Pleasant little tingles spread through her system. Her breath hitched.
“Extend your arms all the way,” he said. “This baby has a front sight and a rear-sight notch.” He pointed to them with his index finger. “Aim at your target and align the top of the front sight so that it lines up with the top of the rear sight. There should also be equal amounts of empty space on both sides of the front sight. Do you have it sighted?”
She licked her lips then nodded as she gazed down the sight at the target’s head.
“Aim for the heart.” He lowered her hand slightly. “Good. When you’re ready to shoot, you’re going to press on the trigger, not pull. You want as little movement on the sight as possible, and that requires steady pressure on the trigger. Keep pressing all the way to the end. You’ll be surprised by the discharge, but that’s okay.”
She didn’t like surprises. “Is it going to hurt?”
He chuckled. “It shouldn’t. The recoil might jolt you a bit, but you’re strong. You can take it.”
His confidence made her want to believe him.
“Take a deep breath and slowly exhale as you apply pressure on the trigger.” He nudged her finger onto the trigger mechanism.
She inhaled until her lungs nearly burst. Then curling her finger, she squeezed the trigger; it was slack at first then seemed to catch with resistance. She pressed harder. The weapon fired with a jerk and muted boom. Her arms reverberated with the shock wave of recoil.
She’d fired a gun. A heady sense of exhilaration overwhelmed her. “That was...was...” Words escaped her.
“Awesome?”
Pleased that he knew how she felt, she nodded vigorously. “Yes, awesome!”
Kyle gently took the weapon from her and laid it back on the platform with the barrel facing downrange. “Well done.”
He pressed a button on the wall next to them, and the target began sliding toward them. As it got closer, she saw where the bullet had torn through the white part of the paper right of the silhouette’s head.
Disappointment subdued the rush of firing a weapon. “I’m not a good shot.”
“You hit the paper. That’s good for a first time.” He sent the target downrange.
“You’re just saying so to make me feel better.”
“No. I’m telling the truth.” He stepped back. “Do it again.”
She felt exposed without him covering her hand, his warm chest pressed against her back. Squaring her shoulders, she decided she could do this. She picked up the weapon as he’d taught her, sighted, took a deep breath and, as she slowly exhaled, squeezed the trigger. This time the recoil wasn’t as bad, though just as surprising.
Grinning, she laid the gun down. “Can I do it again?”
He grinned back. “Have at it.”
When she’d expelled the last shell, she’d finally managed to hit the black part of the target just slightly left of center.
“Good job,” Kyle said as they left the shooting range and climbed into the SUV.
“That was surprisingly fun,” she exclaimed.
“Didn’t I tell you you’d like it?” He headed the vehicle out of the parking lot.
“You did.” She sat back, feeling content and empowered. Not that she had a gun to carry, but she now knew how to use one. Just in case. She couldn’t stop the little shudder at that thought. “Thank you for taking me shooting.”
“You’re welcome.” At a stoplight, he looked at her and tilted his head, his blue
Moving in close behind her, he nudged her knees. “Stand with your feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent.”
Awareness of his hard chest pressed against her back robbed her brain of any coherent thought. It took a second for her to adjust her stance.
“Now, pick up your weapon.”
With hands that shook, she lifted the handgun, fitting her palm against the handle but keeping her finger away from the trigger just as he’d demonstrated.
He slid his hands down her arms to cover her hands. Pleasant little tingles spread through her system. Her breath hitched.
“Extend your arms all the way,” he said. “This baby has a front sight and a rear-sight notch.” He pointed to them with his index finger. “Aim at your target and align the top of the front sight so that it lines up with the top of the rear sight. There should also be equal amounts of empty space on both sides of the front sight. Do you have it sighted?”
She licked her lips then nodded as she gazed down the sight at the target’s head.
“Aim for the heart.” He lowered her hand slightly. “Good. When you’re ready to shoot, you’re going to press on the trigger, not pull. You want as little movement on the sight as possible, and that requires steady pressure on the trigger. Keep pressing all the way to the end. You’ll be surprised by the discharge, but that’s okay.”
She didn’t like surprises. “Is it going to hurt?”
He chuckled. “It shouldn’t. The recoil might jolt you a bit, but you’re strong. You can take it.”
His confidence made her want to believe him.
“Take a deep breath and slowly exhale as you apply pressure on the trigger.” He nudged her finger onto the trigger mechanism.
She inhaled until her lungs nearly burst. Then curling her finger, she squeezed the trigger; it was slack at first then seemed to catch with resistance. She pressed harder. The weapon fired with a jerk and muted boom. Her arms reverberated with the shock wave of recoil.
She’d fired a gun. A heady sense of exhilaration overwhelmed her. “That was...was...” Words escaped her.
“Awesome?”
Pleased that he knew how she felt, she nodded vigorously. “Yes, awesome!”
Kyle gently took the weapon from her and laid it back on the platform with the barrel facing downrange. “Well done.”
He pressed a button on the wall next to them, and the target began sliding toward them. As it got closer, she saw where the bullet had torn through the white part of the paper right of the silhouette’s head.
Disappointment subdued the rush of firing a weapon. “I’m not a good shot.”
“You hit the paper. That’s good for a first time.” He sent the target downrange.
“You’re just saying so to make me feel better.”
“No. I’m telling the truth.” He stepped back. “Do it again.”
She felt exposed without him covering her hand, his warm chest pressed against her back. Squaring her shoulders, she decided she could do this. She picked up the weapon as he’d taught her, sighted, took a deep breath and, as she slowly exhaled, squeezed the trigger. This time the recoil wasn’t as bad, though just as surprising.
Grinning, she laid the gun down. “Can I do it again?”
He grinned back. “Have at it.”
When she’d expelled the last shell, she’d finally managed to hit the black part of the target just slightly left of center.
“Good job,” Kyle said as they left the shooting range and climbed into the SUV.
“That was surprisingly fun,” she exclaimed.
“Didn’t I tell you you’d like it?” He headed the vehicle out of the parking lot.
“You did.” She sat back, feeling content and empowered. Not that she had a gun to carry, but she now knew how to use one. Just in case. She couldn’t stop the little shudder at that thought. “Thank you for taking me shooting.”
“You’re welcome.” At a stoplight, he looked at her and tilted his head, his blue
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