Scarlett arranged the empty cans along the fence each a foot apart. This had become a routine, she discovered. The best way to relieve anger is to shoot someone. Something, she corrected mentally, closing her eyes. Shoot something. Even though she wouldn't deny it. There were days when she wanted to do nothing more than to rid herself of pests. Well, one pest.
Ace Greyson had managed to worm and weasel his way into her mind, often with more negative things than positive. He teased her relentlessly, like a schoolboy would for the girl he had affection for. Just that thought alone made her stomach turn. He have affection for her. Ha! Scarlett couldn't believe that one.
She took her place by the lone tree, loading her Winchester rifle. Five shots. Five reasons. Scarlett clenched her teeth, grasping for some way to control what sane emotions she had left. Raising the Winchester, she took aim at the first can.
He had no right to say what he said, Scarlett thought, gripping the trigger. Being a woman had nothing to do with her performance as a person of the law. In fact, she could probably shoot better than him. As if to prove this point, a loud crack filled the air and the first tin can went soaring with a bullet hole in the middle.
Can number two. Shot number two. Reason number two. Just because she was a woman didn't mean she had to stay in the kitchen, cooking and cleaning. Sure, if she had to stay in the kitchen, no husband of hers would want to eat whatever she cooked up except cornbread and baked beans. She was no chef, that much was clear. As for cleaning, if he made his own damn mess, he could clean it up himself. Then next can was on the ground with a similar fate as the first.
The next ones would be easy. That smug smirk on his face probably irritated her the most. There was no reason why he had to act like he knew everything, because obviously, he didn't. If he was really all that smart, why was he in this Podunk little town? There was no grand audience for him to preach to, nothing that screamed rags to riches. So why was he so Goddamn self-righteous? That can sailed through the air.
The next can sat on the fence staring at her, taunting her just as its brothers did. Before she relieved the itch of her trigger happy finger, she forced herself to give this one a reason as well. Maybe it was just his attitude? Scarlett couldn't place words to feelings anymore. There was something about him that irked every nerve. Ace Greyson himself irked her. There was no way shooting individual cans could possibly make her feel better. There had to be one can, one single target for all these traits she was collecting. Because that way she wouldn't have to put herself through the agony.
For no set reason at all, that can was a goner.
Now the last one she saved for one special reason. There was no possible way Ace was trustworthy. Or not just trustworthy for that matter. There was just no way he could be a decent guy. There was something shady about him and it would please her to no end if she got to close those jail cell barred doors behind him. At the very least prove him wrong. He was probably a woman beater, with his chauvinist attitude. Probably thought women amounted to nothing in the eyes of man. He was probably a secret drunk, or had his fun with those girls in the saloons whom she  befriended so long ago.
Scarlett's mind reeled from all the possibilities when she fired the last shot at the last can. She lowered the firearm and squinted, waiting for the smoke to clear to see her surefire hit.
Instead, her eyes widened. "I missed?"