Just a quickie.

"Say what?" "You're still doing it wrong." "But I'm doing everything you're saying!" "Silence! You ungrateful apprentice!" Rhia swallowed uneasily and lowered the pistol. She looked back out at the target. Not a single hole in it at all. With a sigh, she turned to the man standing beside her. He was middle-aged, a bit of gray mixed with his auburn hair. His eyes were a stoney gray, and they looked at Rhia with a hint of disgust. His clothes were dusty, as that was about all that the new West consisted of. He adjusted the big-rimmed hat and spat off to the side. He reached into his shirt pocket and tossed her a handful of bullets. "Do it again. This time do it right." She caught them and went about fumbling them into their places. Taking a step forward, she raised the pistol and took aim. Before she could even squeeze the trigger, he stepped over to her. "No, no, no! What the hell am I going to do with you, woman?" She grit her teeth, growling faintly when he called her 'woman' with such distaste. But she was quickly silenced when she felt him stand right behind her, closer than he'd ever stood before. She gulped when he took her hand, adjusting her grip. His hands were rough from working his farm, calloused after years and years of tightening girths and hammering shoes. And yet, he used such great care while fixing her grip on the pistol, knowing of the delicacy of a woman's hand. If only her hands were so delicate, she thought. She found herself embarrassed by his concentration. His other hand went to adjust her stance, even shifting her chin to fix how she looked down the pistol's sights. Her cheeks flushed, though luckily her hair enjoyed hiding her face. "There. Now, squeeze the trigger." She licked her lips, noticing he wasn't backing off. She took a deep breath, then, as she released the breath, squeezed the trigger. The shot rang out, and at the same moment, a hole appeared in the center of the target. Her mouth opened, awed that he'd so easily caused her to make a bullseye. She glanced back at him, mouth still open. "How did...?" She stopped when she saw the little smirk on his lips. He backed away a couple of steps, folding his arms over his chest. "I'm going to go start lunch. You make three more bullseyes, then chop the day's firewood. When you've finished and washed up, lunch will be ready." She nodded some and stood straighter. "Yes, master. Thank-you." He hmphed and turned away, heading into the small farmhouse.