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He shoved the pistol at the gardener and took the second one "Reload that," he said, and sighted down the fresh weapon

Ian shot six un and centered it on another rock, while the young ain

Diardener, but he couldn’t make sense of the words He heard others behind him Cam Hart

His world narrowed to the blue steel of the pistol’s barrel, the tiny explosions of rock downrange, the burst of noise as he squeezed the trigger He felt the solid butt of the gun against his palm, screwed up his eyes at the acrid scent of burned powder, shifted his weight to take the kick He shot, handed off the pistol, shot again, over and over

His hands ached, his eyes watered, and he kept shooting

"Guv," Curry yelled "Stop, for the love of God" Ian sighted, squeezed the trigger His arain

Heavy hands grabbed his shoulder Hart’s voice, roaring in rage Ian shook hirab second pistol, aim, fire

"Ian"

Beth’s warm tone floated to hi back

It was diht afternoon The undergardener sobbed at his side, dropping the e his hands to his face

Ian’s arms ached He slowly unclenched the pistol that Curry eased out of his hand and found his palms blistered and raw

Beth touched his face "Ian"

He loved how she said his naently, her voice always soft, caressing

Hart loomed up behind her, but Ian dissolved into Beth He slid his arms around her waist and buried his face in her neck

"When he cole?"

Curry bleated "Me, that’s ‘oo"

Beth handed Katie her valise and adjusted her gloves "You told me that when he disappears like this, it’s often for days and days I’ll be back before then"