““You know how to shoot that thing?" Doubtful merriment danced in Willow's eyes. The landlady's smile was noncommittal as she simply pointed at a small twig on an old lightning-burnt ironwood. "Watch." She hefted the gun, squinted one eye, and pulled the trigger. The twig splintered off to parts unknown. She gave the gun a neat twirl, blew at the smoking barrel, and returned the weapon to her lap. "Close your mouth,dear. You'll gather flies.””
