“I’m fully capable of doing that, as well,” she said, tilting her chin defiantly.
Realizing he was fighting a losing battle and time was of the essence, he drawled, “Fine. Follow me.”
Lincoln darted out from behind the safety of the tree and headed deeper into the woods, not bothering to wait for Amey. He was sure that the vexing woman would remain close behind.
Treading swiftly but lightly, he continued his advance until he saw a lone figure up ahead. The man was holding a shotgun in his hand, and his attention seemed to be directed toward something in the distance.
Lincoln tightened his hold on his revolver as he approached the shooter. He was about to make his presence known when he saw Amey walk out from the cover of the trees. Her revolver was aimed at the man as she ordered, “Put your gun down!”
What in the blazes was she doing?
The dark-haired shooter looked at her in surprise. “Where did you come from?”
“We’ll have this conversation after you put your shotgun down,” she said in a firm tone.
The man slowly crouched down, put his shotgun onto the ground, and kept his hands in front of him as he rose.
Amey kept her gun trained on him and asked, “Why were you shooting at us?”
“Us?”
Lincoln stepped out from behind the tree. “Yes, us.” He walked over and picked up the man’s shotgun. “You nearly killed me and my partner.”
The man glanced between them. “I wasn’t shooting at you,” he declared. “I was shooting at that buck.”
“What buck?” Amey asked.
The man pointed in the opposite direction. “The buck that would have fed my family for a month,” he said. “I can’t believe I missed. I hardly ever miss.”
Amey glanced over at Lincoln before she holstered her revolver. “You ought to be more careful when you’re hunting in these woods.”
The man nodded. “I’m truly sorry,” he said. “I have never encountered anyone in these woods before, especially since I own a large chunk of this property.”
“You must be Jonathon Croft,” Amey remarked knowingly.
Jonathon eyed her suspiciously. “And how would you know that?”
“Jacob Tiner told us that you lived on the opposite side of these woods,” Lincoln replied.
“How do you know Jacob?” Jonathon asked.
“We recently met him in town, and he invited us to go shooting here,” Amey explained.
“That was a foolhardy thing to do,” Jonathon said. “The last thing I expect in these woods are people.”
Lincoln extended the shotgun to Jonathon. “We’ll be more careful in the future.”
Jonathon’s brow lifted. “Future?”
“We still intend to go shooting,” Lincoln stated. “My wife is adamant that I teach her how to shoot.”
Amey pursed her lips for a moment before saying, “My husband is a crack shot, and he has offered to teach me.”
“It doesn’t appear to me that you need any help with a gun, ma’am,” Jonathon commented, his eyes perusing the length of her.
“That’s kind of you to say, sir,” Amey replied, flashing him a smile.
Jonathon’s eyes stopped on her arm. “You’re hurt.”
Lincoln noticed for the first time that Amey’s shirt was ripped and had dried blood caked on it. He must have injured her when he knocked her to the ground. “Are you all right?” he asked.
She nodded. “It’s merely a flesh wound,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”
“Why don’t we go to my cabin and have my wife clean that wound for you?” Jonathon suggested.
“That isn’t necessary,” Amey replied.
“Nonsense,” Jonathon stated. “It’s the least I can do after I accidently shot at you earlier.”
Amey tugged at the ends of her ripped shirt. “Don’t worry—”
Lincoln cut her off. “I think that’s a brilliant idea,” he remarked.
“You do?” she asked.
“We wouldn’t want it to get infected, now would we, dear?” Lincoln pressed.
Amey shook her head. “No, we wouldn’t.”
Jonathon smiled. “Excellent. My cabin is on the other side of these woods.”
As they started walking toward Jonathon’s cabin, Lincoln said, “Jacob mentioned you’re a farmer.”
“Yes, sir, a corn farmer to be more exact,” Jonathon replied. “As was my father, and his father.” He glanced over at them. “What brings you to Longworth?”
“We’re here on our honeymoon,” Amey answered.
Jonathon bobbed his head in approval. “You two are a fine-looking couple, if you don’t mind me saying.”
“Not at all,” Lincoln replied.
“I’m glad to hear that Jacob has been riding into town,” Jonathon said. “He’s been vilified by some of the townsfolk.”
“We’ve heard about his wife,” Amey remarked, keeping pace with them.
Jonathon glanced over at her. “It’s just awful that anyone thinks that Jacob could have anything to do with her death.”
“You don’t?” Lincoln questioned.
Jonathon shook his head. “Jacob is a good man, and he loved his wife dearly. They may have had their problems, but what married couple doesn’t?”
“Good point,” Lincoln agreed.
“Besides, Jacob has an alibi at the time of his wife’s death,” Jonathon stated. “Someone killed Doris, but it wasn’t Jacob. I’m sure of it.”
“Jacob is lucky to have a friend like you,” Amey said.
They broke through the trees, and a small cabin sat in the middle of a clearing. Smoke billowed out of the chimney, and a black dog laid on the porch.
“That is my home,” Jonathon announced proudly. “We’ll get you cleaned up and on your way.”
“I sure do appreciate this,” Amey remarked.
Jonathon waved his hand dismissively. “It’s the least I can do for a friend of Jacob’s.” He stepped up onto the porch and leaned down to pet the dog.
The door opened, revealing a thin boy no older than ten years old. “You’re back already, Pa?” he asked in surprise.
“I had a slight mishap,” Jonathon said, ruffling the boy’s brown hair. “But I’ll head back out shortly, Will.”
As they followed Jonathon into the cabin, Lincoln saw that it was roomier than it appeared from the outside. A fire crackled in the hearth and a bubbling pot hung over it. On the opposite side, a ladder led up to a loft upstairs.
Jonathon pointed toward the rounded kitchen table with four chairs.
