A second, equally powerful explosion came from the kitchen, a third from the front porch.
Terrified, Trina scrambled from the shelter of the sofa to flatten herself against the wall next to the hall. Gabe spared one look over his shoulder to see her, then resumed firing. She drew a deep breath for courage, leveled the rifle and spun to see the hall.
A bullet slammed into the wall inches from her chest. Her first shot took a man down, sending his handgun flying. He pushed himself to his knees and lunged forward for the gun. She shot again, hitting the floor in front and to one side of him.
“Flat on the floor!” she ordered. “Don’t move or you’re dead.”
* * *
GABE HAD NEVER fought in a battle with his attention divided. But not once had he been able to quash his awareness of Trina. He hated knowing they needed her, that he couldn’t tuck her away upstairs with Chloe. After hearing a bark that had to be her rifle, he called, “Trina?”
He was betting she’d never be fine again. But he’d been right; in the moment, she’d been willing to kill to ensure that those men wouldn’t get their hands on Chloe.
Seeing no movement out front, Gabe risked turning. Trina stood with the barrel of the rifle alternately pointing at the man who lay flat on the floor and the open doorway beyond.
Thank God, Deperro stirred, shook his head. Blood dripped down one side of his face, but gradually he regained his wits. Showing his teeth, he torturously got to his knees, crawled forward and planted a knee in the middle of the guy’s back. From a pocket, he produced plastic cuffs.
As he wrenched one hand behind the man’s back, then the other, the guy glared at Trina, his face twisted in hate. Just for that look, Gabe wanted to shoot him. The son of a bitch didn’t know how lucky he was that Gabe still held on to a modicum of self-control. Or was that sanity?
He had an almost amused thought. So much for those overanxious therapists back at the hospital. He’d gotten through surreal circumstances all but guaranteed to trigger flashbacks.
It’s not over yet.
He turned his head and scanned the front. Because he’d pinned them there, he knew at least two men were crouched behind the row of SUVs, probably more. Pearson, for sure. He didn’t seem to have joined the battle. Did he really think he could stay safe while everyone else took the risks? Too bad one of the traffickers hadn’t gotten irritated and popped him.
Given what appeared to be another lull, Gabe raised his voice. “How many down?”
“I’ve got one who looks dead,” Boyd reported. “There’s another guy out by the barn. One of Leon’s, shots, I think. He’s alive, but the way he’s writhing, I’m guessing he took a bullet in his knee.”
“I shot one.” Trina sounded almost numb. “Daniel’s hurt worse, but he handcuffed the guy.”
“Deperro, did you take another bullet?”
“Just stunned,” Deperro said coolly. “Grenade.”
“Yeah, those were no flash-bangs,” Gabe agreed. “I have a couple down, too. That leaves only four. I’m thinking they may run for it.”
“Won’t do Pearson any good to run,” Boyd commented.
“Or Risvold.” Deperro sounded utterly cold. Betrayal did that to a man.
They all heard an engine start. Gabe swore. “Looks like they don’t mind leaving their buddies behind.”
“Wouldn’t it be good if...if they do leave?” For the first time, Trina’s voice trembled.
About ready to expose himself to shoot some tires, Gabe cocked his head. “Sirens.”
“Helicopter, coming fast,” Boyd called from the back.
“Good guys or bad guys?”
“It’s white with...can’t see the insignia.”
Good guys. Not that Gabe allowed himself to lose focus or let relief shut down the adrenaline, not yet. He’d seen men killed when they dropped their guard prematurely.
Flashing lights appearing through the trees. Two, three...four law enforcement vehicles. Doors open, men taking position behind them with rifles pointed.
A voice boomed through a bullhorn. “Drop your weapons. Stand up slowly, hands in the air.”
A second voice blasted from somewhere behind the cabin, too.
What looked like SWAT officers raced forward, yanked one man after another from behind the line of vehicles. Planted their faces against the side of the black SUVs, hands on the roof. With pleasure, Gabe watched Detective Risvold, Ronald Pearson and two other men being frisked.
At last, he lowered the Remington, leaned it against the wall and said in a rough voice, “Trina? Come here.”
She flew to him. He yanked her too hard against him, afraid he was hurting her but realizing that for the first time in his damn life he was shaking and couldn’t help himself. Yet she held him just as hard, and maybe it wasn’t him who was shaking after all.
Finally, he touched his forehead to hers. “I’ve never been so scared before,” he murmured. It was a minute before he could make himself release her and open the front door.
* * *
GABE DISLIKED DEALING with the aftermath as much as he had defending his cabin as if it were a plot of ground in Afghanistan. He sent Trina upstairs to take care of Chloe, and walked out beside the wheeled gurney carrying Deperro.
Just before he was lifted into the first ambulance, Gabe held out a hand. “Thank you, Detective. We might not have made it without you.”
Deperro shook, offering a wan smile. “Daniel.”
Gabe didn’t trust easily, but this cop had proved himself. “Daniel,” he said with a nod. “We’ll be talking.”
He waited until the ambulance doors closed before he looked around in astonishment. The four uninjured men, including Pearson and Risvold, had been hauled away immediately, behind the cage in two police cars. Gabe had watched as Pearson, face florid, had argued furiously as he was cuffed. Risvold hadn’t said a word, blanched by shock until he looked like the walking dead.
The two men Gabe shot were being evaluated and treated here in front, along with the one Deperro had cuffed inside. Medics had trotted around back to look at the others. All waited their turns in other ambulances as they arrived.
Two DEA agents in body armor and the SWAT lieutenant closed in on him. “I’m told you’re Gabe Decker,” one of the agents said.
Boyd crossed the porch and came to join him. When one of the DEA guys looked askance at him, Gabe said shortly, “We co-own the ranch.”
Boyd glanced over his shoulder. “Looks like they did a number on your cabin.”
They all swept appraising looks at the front of the building. The porch railing and some of the boards were shredded. Jagged bits of glass clung in window frames. The door was badly scarred, as were sections of the log walls.
“Bullets would have ripped right through the walls if they hadn’t been so solid,” one of the men commented.
Gabe grunted. That wasn’t why he’d built out of logs, but being bulletproof had certainly turned out to be a secondary benefit. “The grenade blasts inside did a lot of damage, too. Especially to the kitchen.” But miraculously, none of them besides the detective had been injured. That’s what mattered.
Trina and Chloe were safe. He had a feeling Trina could have held off the whole damn attack force alone if she’d had to. His heart beat out of rhythm as he pictured her at the top of the stairs, spraying bullets.
“We need you to tell us what happened, step by step,” the same DEA agent said. They’d introduced themselves earlier, but it took Gabe a minute to summon his name.
Philip Zepeda, that was it. And the taller, older agent was Todd Carter.
“Anybody killed?” Gabe asked first.
“I’m told one of the two out back is in critical condition,” the SWAT lieutenant said. “We have a Life Flight coming for him. Otherwise, they’ll all recover to stand trial.”
The older DEA guy joined him.
“Don’t know if Detective Deperro had a chance to talk to you.”
Zepeda’s mouth tightened, but he finally nodded. “Briefly.”
Boyd and Gabe told the story in turns, starting with the original murders and progressing through the leak that led to the arson fire and Trina’s decision to go into hiding with Chloe. Gabe didn’t offer details as to how he’d evaded notice when he drove Trina to and from work, but he did describe the attack on the highway as well as the black helicopter buzzing the ranch buildings. He talked until he was hoarse: Chloe finally telling them what she’d seen, his own trip to call Detective Deperro, what Deperro had said about why he’d followed his own partner out to the ranch and the confrontation that had left him with a bullet in his thigh.
Boyd put in his bits here and there. They’d considered leaving Leon out of this, but the bullets would be matched to weapons, so it was better to be honest.
When he finished, the SWAT lieutenant ran a hand over his close-shaved head. “Hell of a thing.”
Boyd gave the DEA agents a hard stare. “I assume you didn’t give the traffickers a chance to clean house at Open Range Electronics.”
They exchanged a glance. Zepeda was apparently elected to be the mouthpiece, because he said, “The possibility that the company played any part in drug trafficking is still speculation.” He cleared his throat. “However, we had a warrant in hand, and acted on it immediately after Detective Deperro’s call. He and I have worked on drug enforcement task forces together in the past, so I placed a high reliance on his word.”
His phone rang, and when he stepped away, the gathering broke up. Gabe knew these had been only the first of multiple interviews. It might be an eon before his weapons were returned to him. Every one that had been fired had been gathered as evidence. He was indifferent to that; he hadn’t so much as opened the gun safe until Joseph’s call asking him to keep his sister safe.
Gabe hoped Trina was with him when the time came to tell brother Joseph the whole story.
* * *
BY BEDTIME, GABE had hardly spoken to Trina since he and she had packed up everything they’d need for a day or two and taken Chloe to Boyd’s larger ranch house. Boyd had labored without a lot of help to maintain some conversation at the dinner table. Gabe spoke up only when asked a direct question. Trina would have been furious with him if not for his tenderness toward Chloe, who’d burrowed in his arms as often as she had in Trina’s. Boyd’s cook had had the sense to serve a child-friendly meal, and while Chloe had picked at her food, she had eaten.
It had taken longer to get her to sleep than usual, too. Trina went back downstairs to join the men but quickly wondered why she’d bothered. She was in that unpleasant state of being wired still and exhausted, too. Chatting with Boyd while Gabe watched her broodingly wasn’t what she needed.
Suddenly having had enough, she jumped to her feet. “I think I’m ready for bed. I’ll see you both in the morning.”
Gabe rose, too. “I’ll do the same.”
As stirred up as she was, she almost wished he’d stayed downstairs. Once upstairs, she turned into the bathroom and shut the door practically in his face. Only, her skin prickled as she showered and brushed her teeth. Aroused, mad, hopeful, she opened the door. If he’d gone on to bed...
He was waiting. Any indignation she’d felt was washed away instantly at the expression on his face. He started kissing her before she had a chance to take a breath. Her desperation rose to meet his, and they barely reached his room before they made love with frantic, silent need. The second time was no less urgent.
In the wake of the astonishing pleasure, she concentrated on his heartbeat, on the warm chest beneath her hand. She had to keep her mouth shut. She had to. Whatever she wanted to believe, she really didn’t know how he felt about her.
And, oh, she hated knowing that trying to push him would be the absolute wrong thing to do.
Once certain he was asleep, Trina slipped out of his bed and between cold sheets to join Chloe. She needed to be here when Chloe woke up. She hadn’t the slightest doubt that the police would insist on hearing Chloe’s testimony themselves, and soon. As in, tomorrow.
Morning found Chloe still frightened but, thank heavens, not mute. Accordingly, at midmorning a detective and the detective division lieutenant arrived to speak to her. Trina was permitted to sit on the sofa, but an arm’s length from the little girl. She did understand that they needed to be certain she wasn’t sending signals with her touch. Gabe had taken up a stance right behind the sofa, probably ready to glower if anyone dared upset Chloe.
Trina would have been a lot more apprehensive if this detective wasn’t the woman she’d worked with before. This time, there were no snapped questions, no veiled impatience. Detective Melinda McIntosh got Chloe chattering about Mack and the foals here on the ranch, until she was relaxed and animated.
When the important question came, she said clearly, “I saw Uncle Ronald. I heard him and Daddy yelling before. Then there was a bang and Daddy fell down. And...and some more bangs. Uncle Ronald leaned over Daddy, only he didn’t help Daddy up.”
Only a few questions later, it was over. Boyd ushered the cops out while Gabe told Chloe the housekeeper had made something yummy just for her.
Trina stayed where she was, almost numb. There was no more reason to be afraid. She had her life back. She could rebuild her town house, or buy a different place. Go back to work. Talk to Chloe’s grandmother.
So why didn’t she even want to stand up?
She was staring blankly at the view through the enormous front window when Gabe walked in front of her. Then, of course, she couldn’t see anything but him. Her gaze slowly lifted.
“Can we talk?” he asked.
He’d never said when his physical would take place. Had he put it off because of his promise to her brother?
“Oh, sure. If you’d like to sit down...”
“No, I don’t want to be interrupted. Do you mind going for a walk?”
She nodded, rose to her feet as if she’d been preparing to bounce up any minute and verified that the housekeeper would keep an eye on Chloe.
Gabe didn’t touch her, but outside he nodded toward a small stretch of wooded land, beyond which was a white-board fence enclosing a pasture. A small herd of horses grazed a distance away.
“What are you thinking you’ll do now?” Gabe asked, after a couple of minutes of silence.
“Oh—Get new ID. Decide whether I want to rebuild or find someplace else to live. You know. Everything I had to put off.” Striving to sound bright, she asked, “You?”
“I don’t have any choice but to take my physical,” Gabe said slowly. “I have another ten months on this enlistment.”
Her heart sank.
They had reached the fence. Instead of leaning on it, he stopped and took her hands. “I don’t want to leave you.”
“I’m...not sure what that means.”
“You may not feel the same...you probably don’t. I don’t have the education you do, or—” His vivid blue eyes showed stunning vulnerability. “You’re nothing I ever expected, but... Damn.” He blew out a long breath. “I’m in love with you, Trina. If you’d wait for me... You could stay in the cabin, so you wouldn’t need to get another place. Once it’s fixed up, I meant.” Now he was talking fast, persuasively. “And that’s only if I pass the physical.”
The awful tightness in her chest had released as suddenly as a stretched rubber band, leaving her wobbly on her feet like a one-day-old foal.
She could ask him what he envisioned for his future, but she’d realized something in the past twenty-f
our hours. The powerful need to protect, to serve, was part of what she loved about him. There was no way she’d ask him to give up being a Ranger.
“I love you, too,” she said simply. “Only...there’s something you should know.”
He had started to draw her closer but stopped. “What’s that?”
“Chloe’s grandmother or another relative may want her now, but I’m going to ask if they’d let me adopt her. I’d do everything I could to allow them to maintain a relationship with her, but... I love her.”
Gabe groaned and pulled her into his arms. “I assumed we’d try to keep her. Don’t keep scaring me.”
“Having a child means—”
“I want you to marry me.” Every word came out gritty. “Soon. So I’ll know you’re here, waiting for me.”
Her vision blurred. “We could come with you, you know.”
“I don’t think I’ll pass the physical,” he told her. “If I do, I’ll finish my enlistment, but then I’m done. The time was coming anyway. I’m ready to be a rancher.”
“You’re not saying this because you think it’s what I want?”
Gabe shook his head. “No,” he said quietly, bending to brush his mouth softly over hers. “I want to breed and train horses, help Boyd build this into the most successful ranch in Oregon.”
Her smile felt luminous. “How would you feel about breeding a kid or two?”
This laugh was new, joyous. His guard had come crashing down. “I might have to look into your bloodlines...”
“Try telling that to Joseph.”
He grunted as if she’d hit him. “He’ll be my brother-in-law.”
“Yes, he will.”
“Lucky I already liked him,” he said, just before he kissed her. And kept right on kissing her.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from Wyoming Cowboy Protection by Nicole Helm.
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Hide the Child Page 18
