Cora McFadden breathed in the savory aroma of roast chicken and brushed back strands of her blonde hair. The contest she’d soon compete in should be fun, an opportunity to relax and get away from her dismal neighborhood and boring job.
The short, balding announcer, Charlie Aames, raised his megaphone to his mouth. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the county fair’s pistol competition. This year, we only have two contestants. First, Bronco Benny, who’s won this contest for the last five years.”
The audience cheered. “Go Benny! Go. Go. Go.”
A tall man wearing a black cowboy hat yelled, “You’ll win again for sure.”
“Almost no one wants to pay the entry fee to shoot against him and lose,” Charlie bellowed. “However, we have one contestant who’ll try to out shoot Benny, the lady librarian, Cora McFadden.”
The audience laughed and then booed.
A stocky woman shouted, “I bet she can’t hit the broadside of a barn!”
Cora clenched her fists. How dare they make fun of her? She’d show them.
“Folks, here’s how the contest works. Each contestant will have three shots to hit three bottles at ten feet. Then the same number of shots to hit three bottles at ten yards. If they tie, we’ll change to the bullseye target at twenty-five yards.”
“Charlie, you’re dreaming. They’ll never wind up in a tie!” a red-headed teenage boy shouted.
Cora tightened her fists again. This wasn’t the enjoyable experience she’d envisioned when she signed up.
“Benny, since you’re the returning champion,” Charlie said, “do you want to shoot first or second?”
“First. This round is so easy,” the tall, muscular contestant replied, “I’ll use my left hand and not my right.”
The crowd let out a loud roar as Benny broke the three bottles.
“Well, little lady,” Charlie said, “it’s your turn.”
“Just for you, Benny, I’ll also shoot with my left hand.”
The crowd laughed again.
Bronco Benny chuckled. “Folks, if I were you, I’d move back before she shoots. No telling where the bullet might go.”
Cora suppressed a sigh. He’d soon find out how wrong he was. She fired three quick shots. Each one broke a bottle. There, that should impress them.
Audible gasps resounded through the crowd.
A white-haired man shouted, “I can’t believe it!”
“Folks, as you can see, so far we have a tie. So, we’ll move the bottles to the distance of ten yards.”
Both Cora and Benny shot again, and each broke all the bottles.
“Now comes the real test, a bullseye target at twenty-five yards. Cora and Benny will alternate shots for two each. Young lady, you shoot first this time.”
“Okay.” She aimed and fired.
Charlie pointed at his rotund assistant, who stood near him. “Ralph, check after each shot.”
The big man nodded. “Bullseye for Cora.”
“Benny, your turn.”
The five-year champion took his time and squeezed the trigger with his right hand.
Ralph checked it. “Bullseye for Benny.”
“Folks, we’re still tied with only one shot left to go.”
“If the contest remains tied, we’ll increase the distance. Benny, you first.”
He aimed and fired.
Ralph checked the target. “Benny didn’t get a center bullseye. He hit the outer ring of the target’s circle.”
“Cora, if you make center shot on your target, you’ll win.”
She aimed and fired her pistol.
Ralph examined the bullseye. “I see only one hole. It looks like she missed the target.”
“Ralph, do you have a pocket knife?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Then dig into the bullseye. I believe you’ll find two bullets, one on top of another.”
“Sounds crazy to me, but I’ll do it.”
The crowd waited in silence as Ralph dug into the wood and pulled out a bullet.
“Here’s one.” He held it up for everyone to see.
“Please keep digging,” she said.
“I can’t believe it. There’s another bullet here.”
The crowd went crazy.
Charlie yelled, “We have a new champion! Cora, the librarian. Congratulations, young lady.”
***
Three days later, Cora sank down on her living room sofa. How pleasant to relax after another long day at the library.
After graduation from college last year, she’d taken this job and moved into a rental house. What a disaster! One calamity after another. Car repairs cost a thousand dollars. A water pipe broke in the house and flooded the kitchen.
Her landlord had repaired the damage but raised the rent a hundred dollars a month. She’d argued that since his negligence had led to the problem, she shouldn’t have to pay more. But he’d ignored her.
How foolish to have moved near the library. She’d trapped herself in a rundown section of older residences in a high crime area without enough money to move.
Phil and Lorrie, the neighbors across the street, had asked if she’d keep an eye on their house at night while they were in Europe for a long-awaited vacation. Stay-at-home moms kept watch over their property during the day.
A vehicle’s backfire broke the silence.
Cora stepped toward the bay window and partially opened the red velvet drapes. The security light in front of Phil’s and Lorrie’s home revealed a battered black van with darkened windows in their driveway. It shouldn’t be there.
Two men wearing backward-turned baseball caps and baggy pants got out and slinked to the front door, peering around as they crept forward. The taller man stuck something in the lock, jiggled it, twisted the knob, and disappeared inside.
Time to call 911! She reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone. “Oh, no!” Dead battery. She’d forgotten to recharge it. She punched in the number from her landline.
A deep male voice answered, “What’s your emergency?”
“Two thieves just broke into my neighbor’s house!”
“Don’t hang up. We need to know the location and what’s happening.”
Minutes later, the thieves came out and loaded a giant television into their van.
Cora sprinted to her bedroom and retrieved a pistol and camera kept near her bed. She returned to the living room and cracked open the front door just enough to take pictures of the robbers. Uh, oh! One of the thieves had noticed her.
“Jack, grab the camera from that woman or we’re goners.”
He ran across the street toward her.
“Don’t get any closer!” She fired a warning shot at the van’s back right tire, flattening it and lowering the vehicle.
Jack turned around and shouted, “I’m outta here!’ She has a gun and knows how to use it. She just shot the right rear tire of the van.” He turned around and raced down the street.
The wail of a police siren reached her ears as the remaining burglar darted after his partner.
Moment later, a patrol car screeched to a stop at the curb. Two uniformed officers hopped out and gave chase. Several minutes later, they returned, the two criminals in front of them with their hands cuffed behind their backs.
Cora sighed with relief and closed her door. She’d made a mistake by choosing to live in a crime-ridden neighborhood. She’d wanted to be on her own, instead of helping her parents run their cattle ranch. But life hadn’t turned out as satisfying as she’d first thought.
Later tonight, she’d call Mom and Dad and tell them she’d come home after she gave the library her two-weeks’ notice.
Big city life wasn’t for a cowgirl.
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