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W hen a semi-cool breeze swept through on Monday night, Daisy sighed right along with the two dozen other women stretched out on pallets in the barn.

She closed her eyes and pretended that she was sitting out on the balcony at the Paradise in nothing but her thin nightgown.

The night sounds hadn’t changed from several hundred miles north of Autrie in Spanish Fort.

Coyotes still howled in the distance. Locusts and crickets vied for attention, with an occasional tree frog or cat adding their song to the mix.

“What are you all thinking about?” Lily asked from a few feet away.

“The fact that I’d kind of gotten used to hearing piano music half the night. Now we just get the sounds of nature, like we had in the place that we were last summer at this time,” Daisy answered, choosing her words carefully.

“I was married and living with my husband and son,” Frannie said.

“What happened?” Daisy asked.

“He went to town like he always did on Saturday night—probably to spend what money he had earned from working that week on the railroad on whiskey and women,” Frannie told her.

“He ran the wagon off a cliff on the way home and died. We barely had him buried when my son took a fever and passed away a week later.”

“I’m so sorry,” Lily said.

“Last summer I was working in the same saloon I am now,” Molly said.

“More than anything, I want to get out of the business, but I have no place to go or money to get there. I’ve tried to save money, but .

..” She paused a moment before she went on.

“Frannie was being honest when she told all y’all that the rotten saloon owner takes all but ten percent of what we earn.

He says we owe him the rest for our room and board. ”

“And since he never tells us for sure what the men pay him for our favors, we don’t know that he’s not taking more than that,” Frannie added. “We ain’t wantin’ y’all’s sympathy. We just want a better life like y’all do.”

“No wonder you joined us,” Lily said. “When we draw up our letter for negotiations, what are you asking for?”

“A fifty-fifty split,” Frannie answered. “And no more slapping us around if we don’t bring in enough every night. What about all you proper ladies?”

A voice came from the other side of the barn. “To sit with our husbands at church, to be respected, and for them to not visit y’all. And if we’re all going to be equal, you can’t be prejudiced, either, by calling us ‘proper ladies.’”

“That’s fair enough,” Molly agreed.

“If you want your husbands to stay home,” Frannie said, “you best learn how to please a man. What I hear from most men is that they want more from their wives than for them to just do their duty.”

“Will you teach us what you know?” another woman asked.

“Yes, we will,” Frannie answered. “We’ll have a class on that very thing—but first, I understand that we are going to learn to shoot the eyes out of a rattlesnake, which I can already do. But I can’t ride a horse using a regular saddle, so I’d like to learn that.”

“Until we are all totally independent, we’ll always be the weaker sex, even in the jobs that we have in the saloon,” Molly added.

“Ain’t that the truth,” a thin, high-pitched voice said from the far corner.

Daisy remembered Miz Raven teaching her seven girls all those things and how to be a lady at the same time.

When the day arrived for them all to leave, they wore pants, sat in a saddle as well as any cowboy, and had pistols strapped on their hips.

When they reached the town where their trunks had been shipped, they sold the horses and gear and had shown up as ladies when they boarded the southbound train.

Tomorrow, she and Lily would be passing along the shooting skill they had been taught. Before they finished, every woman in the group would know how to load and handle one of the pistols that had been gathered up from the group that evening after supper.

“Worried about tomorrow?” Lily whispered.

“Not really,” Daisy answered. “We had a good teacher—and besides, only about half of the women don’t know how to shoot. The rest are already trained.”

Lily was only mildly surprised when at least three dozen—Sally Anne included—showed up the next morning after breakfast for shooting lessons.

Women had been left alone for months and years during the war, and they had had to defend their families against varmints, both the four- and two-legged kinds.

The smart ones had passed that skill down to their daughters, along with how to mount a horse with a leg on each side.

However, from the size of the group, not all wives, mothers, and sisters had been so wise, just like she and Daisy had experienced.

“When their men came home, they stayed true to the old traditions and stepped back into the roles they had been given before the war,” Lily said in a low voice.

“What was that?” Daisy asked.

“Just talking to myself,” Lily answered, then turned to face the women. All sizes, all ages, and all builds. “Okay, ladies, it’s really quite simple. We’ll take six at a time because that’s how many guns we could rustle up. Who wants to go first?”

Sally Anne stepped up to the makeshift table and picked up a pistol. “It’s heavier than I thought it would be. I’ve only practiced with a one-shot derringer. Now what do I do?”

So, the princess of Autrie has at least held a gun in her hands, Lily thought.

“A six-gun is a little different than the small one you carry, Sally Anne. I’ll demonstrate how to break the barrel to the side, put the bullets in, and snap it back into place.

” She showed them each step as she talked.

“Now you are ready to aim and fire. You don’t have to do a quick draw.

Most men will instinctively back up if a woman has a gun in her hands.

Hold it like this”—she used both hands—“and then use the sight to get a bead on one of the targets we’ve set up on stakes.

Have you ever even shot that little gun you have? ”

“A few times, but not often. Daddy always hired a bodyguard for me when we traveled. He didn’t even know I had the little gun,” she answered.

Frannie picked up a gun, expertly loaded it, and asked, “Can I picture the target as the saloon owner?”

“Yes, you can.” Daisy focused on the rest of the women. “Have all of y’all really never shot a gun?”

“I didn’t say that I hadn’t shot a gun before, but it’s been a long time, and I need to practice. Otis, the saloon owner, wouldn’t dare let me get near one.” Frannie smiled with a wink.

“We are supposed to be simpering little women who run at the sight of a mouse,” Sally Anne said as she loaded the gun, took aim, and fired.

“Whoa! That’s got some kick to it. I missed the target, but I’ll be ready next time.

This is fun. Even if—or maybe I should say when —we go back to our homes, can we have a day every now and then to practice? ”

“Of course! We could do that after a women’s meeting,” Daisy answered.

When several more blasts went off at the same time, one of the women dropped her pistol on the table and covered both ears with her hands.

Frannie picked up the gun and handed it back to her.

“Get over that fear of noise, and don’t ever drop your gun in a fight or you’ll be the one who is dead.

Also, if you run out of ammunition, then just use the pistol or rifle like a weapon and beat whoever is coming at you with it.

But for now, take aim like this and fire. ”

“You’ll get the hang of it, Amanda,” Sally Anne said.

Amanda held the weapon with both hands and hit the center of the target on her first try. “I bet all that noise makes all the menfolk in town wonder what in the hell we’re doing out here.”

“Looks like you are a natural,” Lily said. “Maybe they’ll even figure out that we mean business.”

“It will take a lot longer than just two days.” Amanda laid the gun down after she had shot one last time. “They haven’t had time to get tired of burned suppers and a messy house. Which reminds me, I need to draw up some water and do a washing when we finish here.”

“Not today, unless you’re going to hang it in the barn loft to dry.” Frannie pointed to the southwest. “I’d say we’re going to get a storm in about an hour, so you had better all learn a little more about shooting before it hits.”

“Storms in July,” Daisy said. “Seems like an omen. I hope it’s not a sign of bad luck.”

Frannie just shrugged and laid down the pistol she had been using. “I won’t waste more bullets. I just wanted to be sure I still had it.”

“Evidently you do,” Daisy growled.

Frannie stepped forward until she was practically nose to nose with Daisy.

“I can probably outshoot and outfight you, but this isn’t the place to test that, is it?

What was that big speech that y’all all pitched in to deliver?

Empowering —whatever the hell that means—and together?

Were you just preaching at the proper women or all of us? ”

“No, it is not the time, and we can keep our personal feelings aside for a later date, but you can be sure that we are trying to better all women’s lives, no matter what path they come from,” Daisy shot back in a hateful tone.

“What’s the matter with you?” Lily whispered, thinking about where she and Daisy had come from.

“I don’t like that woman,” Daisy said out the corner of her mouth.

“Don’t let her know that, or she has power over you,” Lily continued, keeping her voice low enough for just Daisy to hear.

“That sounded like Miz Raven.”

“I meant for it to,” Lily told her.

Sally Anne emptied the three remaining bullets from her gun and laid it on the table.

“Ladies, I’m going to head to the parsonage before the storm hits.

Aunt Edith and I are making cookies this morning for an afternoon snack.

The children play so hard that they are hungry between dinner and supper. ”

“So am I,” Frannie said. “I saw lightning streaking through the sky, and I don’t test the powers that be by standing out here under these trees.”

“Talk about the lamb laying down with the lion,” Daisy said as she and Lily watched the saloon worker and the princess of Autrie walking together.

“I wonder what Sally Anne would have to say if she knew that Frannie was probably taking her fiancé upstairs at the saloon for a little romp in the sheets?”

“Maybe Frannie will give her some lessons that will help her keep the judge so happy he won’t ever want to go back to the saloon again,” Lily said.

“I don’t think she needs them.”

“What makes you say that?” Lily asked.

“There’s something not so innocent in her eyes,” Daisy answered. “You remember how a man’s eyes looked like a scared bunny rabbit the first time he came to the Paradise and cheated on his wife?”

Lily nodded.

“Now, think about those who were pretty regular and the expression they had.”

Lily clamped a hand over her mouth for a moment. “You are so right,” she said. “I always kind of felt sorry for those who were cheating on their wives.”

“I did not,” Daisy declared. “And I will wager that the judge is not getting a blushing bride.”

“If what you are saying is right, then ...”

“Then he gets a socialite in the day and a Frannie at night,” Daisy said through gritted teeth. “He wins.”

Lily gave her a quick hug and slipped several of the guns and ammunition into a pillowcase. “There’s a lot of time between now and September.”

“Like I said before,” Daisy said, “all women need lessons in how to please a man before they get married—not only that, but she might even have to teach him how to please her. Then it wouldn’t just be their duty, but an enjoyment for both the husband and wife.

If we weren’t living on the straight-and-narrow pathway, we might be able to teach those lessons. ”

“One more shot to see if I’ve still got it .” Lily loaded the final pistol and fired once at each target. She imagined that the black spot in the center was her ex-fiancé’s eye, and hit dead center every single time.