Shan: What the hell’s going on here? One minute I’m writing a love scene and in the next we’ve skipped to you holding a shotgun on the sheriff.

Eliza Jane: It seemed like the thing to do at the time.

Shan: But there’s nothing at all in your background to suggest you can wield a shotgun like Annie Freakin’ Oakley. You’d be more apt to throw yourself in front of the man and talk him to death.

Eliza Jane: But I’d lose that bit of dialogue I say when I’m threatening him with it. It’s such a perfect line.

Shan: Yeah, if you’re Bruce Willis.

Eliza Jane: Which I’m not.

Will: And thank the Maker for that.

Shan: Shut up. You don’t even know who that is. You don’t have a TV.

Will: No, but I for damn sure ain’t never met a pretty lady by the name of Bruce, I know that much.

Shan: We’re digressing. What are we going to do about the shotgun and Eliza Jane’s line?

Will: Well, I reckon it’s time to kill that darlin’, uh…darlin’.

Shan: And that’s another thing—why couldn’t you call her sweetheart or hummingbird or something so I wouldn’t have to deal with that damn apostrophe?

Will: It’s either darlin’ or Lizzie.

Shan: Ugh. Okay, so what are we going to do about this shotgun?

Eliza Jane: Maybe I could have a rolling pin, instead.

Will: Hell, that’s a fine idea. I’ve tasted her pies, and she’s a lot more apt to kill a man with her pie crusts than a shotgun.

Eliza Jane: The bad thing about being the town’s doctor is that you’ve got nobody to fix you up if I castrate you with this shotgun.

Shan: Okay, I think we need to lose the shotgun. Let’s find another way to make that scene work.

Will: She could throw her biscuits at him. Aw, hell. Put that down, Eliza Jane. You can’t just go around pointin’ a shotgun at a man’s balls, darlin’. The fright makes them shrivel right up, and then I won’t be able to do that thing you like—you know, that thing you told half the town about when you were trying to drink Joe Dunbarton under the table.

Eliza Jane: You do know how to hold a grudge, Will Martinson.

Will: Well, you try holdin’ your head up when your friends laugh themselves into a stupor every time they see you. Did you have to go and say…what you said?

Shan: You know what? I’m going to go scrub the kitchen floor. Let me know when you’re ready to work.

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