The Colton Bodyguard

by Carla Cassidy

Taking a deep breath to quell the emotion that knotted in her throat, she faced the cowboy-turned-sheriff and tried not to let the sight of him in his tuxedo jacket, black Stetson and Tony Lama boots remind her of the wedding they’d never have.

  “Hi, Brady.” Damn the catch in her voice! She wanted him to believe she was fine in her new life without him, that she was moving on and had no regrets over what she’d thrown away when she left him. Kara squared her shoulders and pasted on a stiff grin. “Don’t you look handsome!”

  He tugged at the neck of his tuxedo shirt and gave her a lopsided smile that shot liquid heat to her core. “Glad you think so. This collar’s choking me. I feel like a damn penguin.” Lifting a shoulder in a dismissive shrug, he added, “Oh, well. Small price to pay to support Nate on his big day.”

  She nodded. “True. We can stand any discomfort for a short while when it means being there for our friends.” Like engaging in awkwardly polite conversation with your ex when he corners you.

  She introduced Hannah, her new neighbor, and he acknowledged her with a smile and a friendly greeting before shifting his gaze back to Kara and squatting beside her chair. “You look good. How have you been?”

  “I’m fine.” She grimaced internally at the inane and stilted conversation. Next they’d be talking about the weather.

  “Good turnout today.”

  “Mmm-hmm. April and Nate are well-liked. I’m happy for them.”

  “Yeah. I’m glad people didn’t let the change of location or threat of rain deter them.” He nodded to the same ominous clouds Hannah had just remarked on.

  Kara gave a wry laugh. Called it.

  “Something funny?” he asked with a dented brow.

  “We’ve resorted to talking about the weather?”

  He opened his mouth as if to deny her claim, then clamped his lips shut with a scowl.

  Ten months ago, this man had been half of her very being—her heart and soul and breath—and now they were reduced to banal formalities.

  You have no one to blame but yourself. Breaking up with Brady was your choice. A fresh wave of guilt and remorse rolled through her belly. She knew her choice had been rooted in fear, but she couldn’t see any way around the scars left by her father’s death. Brady had made his choice—to take the appointment as sheriff—and she’d made hers. She couldn’t, wouldn’t bear the stress of knowing her boyfriend could be killed in the line of duty any day he reported to work.

  “What I want to talk about is us. Later. Will you give me some time after the ceremony?” When she frowned, he added, “Please?”

  “There’s nothing to say. Nothing’s changed.”

  “There’s plenty to say, if you’ll not shut me out.”

  “I—” The speakers screeched with feedback for a second, and the horses in a nearby pasture whinnied and tossed their manes.. Then soft music flowed over the assembled guests, indicating the ceremony was starting.

  “That’s my cue.” Brady squeezed her arm as he stood. “Later, then?”

  She flashed an uncommitted grin, which seemed to satisfy him, and watched with her heart in her throat as he strode down the center aisle to escort the mother of the groom to her chair.

  “Wow. You didn’t tell me how hot he was,” Hannah said, fanning herself with her wedding program. “Black hair, blue eyes and a body straight out of a Hunks R Us catalog? Sweet.”

  Kara gave her friend a sidelong glance. “Not helping...”

  “Sorry.”

  “I know he’s gorgeous. And he’s sweet and polite and witty—”

  “The pig! No wonder you broke up with him!” Hannah gave her a teasing wink.

  “Hannah!” she grated under her breath. “You’re supposed to be supporting me today, not shoving me back into his arms. I told you why I left him. He took the interim sheriff position without any consideration of my feelings. And when I explained my concerns about the job, he dismissed my reasons as trivial. But my fears aren’t trivial! My dad died in the line of duty.”

  She suppressed a shudder as the dark memories clawed at her. With a firm shake of her head, she shoved the bleak images down. “I don’t want to live like my mother did, always wondering if her husband would come home safely at night, jumping every time the phone rang...and eventually having her worst fears realized.” She swiped at the tears that bloomed in her eyes. “I can’t do it.”

  Hannah rubbed her arm. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I didn’t mean to minimize your pain. It just...seems like there should be a way for you two to work things out. If only—”

  “Shh!” the lady behind them hissed.

  Hannah scowled at the woman, but before she could retort, the processional music started. The first bridesmaids in their stunning red dresses started down the aisle. The assembled guests stood for the procession, and a pang of regret plucked her heart. April had given Kara the choice of being a bridesmaid or not, understanding her situation with Brady. Kara had declined, knowing that as part of the wedding party, she’d have been thrown together with Brady time and again throughout the wedding activities. On top of her anxiety and heartache seeing Brady today, her chest clenched with disappointment and guilt, knowing she’d let her friend down.

  But perhaps more important, she’d let herself down, allowing her emotions to control her life and sway her choices. She didn’t want her decisions going forward to be guided by her heartache over Brady or her grief over her father.

  She was roused from her morose musings as the bride glided gracefully past her. April’s auburn hair was swept up in an attractive hairdo, and she was a vision in her wedding dress with Christmas-red trim. The dress was a perfect choice, adding a Christmassy feel to the ceremony while the A-line shape discreetly covered the secret April had only shared with her closest friends and family. She was having Nate’s baby.

  April looked beautiful, but a nervous tic tugged at the corner of her friend’s lips. Had Kara not known her as well as she did, she might not have noticed the stiff discomfort in her smile. Earlier in the week, April had expressed her dismay over how the invitation list and reception plans had grown, but she’d granted her future in-laws their requests in a spirit of cooperation and good will. Add to that the last-minute crisis of burst pipes and a hasty relocation for the whole affair, and it was no wonder April looked stressed.

  Kara turned her attention to the makeshift altar, to gauge the groom’s reaction to his bride. But rather than Nate’s expression, her gaze locked with Brady’s. His eyes held hers with an unwavering, soul-piercing intensity that sent a tremor to her core. His face reflected not joy for the wedding couple, but a deep sadness and longing. His eyes told her exactly where his thoughts had gone. Their own canceled wedding. Had she not broken up with him, they would have been married this month in a similar Christmas wedding. She would have been wearing ivory silk and carrying poinsettia blossoms and baby’s breath.

  When April reached the front row and took her place beside her groom, Brady, standing beside the best man, blinked hard and discreetly wiped the corner of his eye. Kara’s heart jolted. Dear God, was her tough and fearless lawman tearing up? She knew he had a soft heart under his alpha-dog demeanor, but seeing this display of emotion from him, knowing she’d caused his hurt, rattled her.

  “Be seated,” the minister said.

  A rumble of distant thunder rolled across the pastures to the west, and a nervous twitter rose from the congregation as the people took their seats.

  The minister tipped his head to look toward the sky and said, “Yes, Lord. We see the storm coming, but we want to give this blessed union the ceremony it calls for.”

  The people chuckled, and Kara was relieved to see April crack a brighter smile.

  But like the encroaching storm, Kara’s gut roiled darkly. She couldn’t keep her eyes from straying over and again to Brady. To his square-jawed profile, to his ebony hair curling slightly around the stiff collar of his tuxedo, and to the devastated look in his piercing blue eyes.

  He tried to h
ide it. And to the casual observer, he probably seemed fine. But she knew this man like her own reflection. She’d broken his heart along with her own when she’d left him, and her guilt gnawed inside her with vicious teeth.

  “Marriage is a joyful and sacred institution, not to be entered into lightly, but with reverence and discretion...” the minister said, and Kara curled her fingers in her lap.

  She hadn’t taken her breakup with Brady lightly, but every day she had new regrets. She missed him deeply. A constriction like a fist squeezing her lungs clamped Kara’s chest. She couldn’t breathe. A panic attack.

  Damn it! She’d been prone to them since witnessing her father’s death as a teenager. She’d had several in recent weeks. It didn’t take a genius to know why, but she hated them all the same. Hated the feeling of powerlessness.

  “E-excuse me,” she gasped to Hannah, who gave her a curious frown.

  “Kara?”

  Waving a hand for Hannah to stay put, she rose quickly from her seat. Kara hurried down the center aisle, fleeing the ceremony, fleeing Brady’s penetrating and heartbreaking gaze. She just needed a moment alone to put her head between her knees, to catch her breath and center herself.

  More thunder rumbled, and to Kara, it sounded like mocking laughter. Foolish girl! You’re a mess! Brady’s better off without your drama and baggage.

  Hot tears pricked her eyes as she hurried toward the nearby barn, famous in the county for the giant Texas flag painted on the roof. She stopped just inside the barn door where the bride and groom’s horses were tethered, awaiting the couple’s departure for the reception.

  She stroked the nose of the dapple gray mare, bridal ribbons woven through her mane and tail, and struggled for a calming breath. The soft snuffles of the gentle horse nuzzling her hand soothed her frayed nerves. “Good girl,” she whispered to the mare, feeling her pulse settle and the tightness in her lungs loosen.

  A tingle of awareness pricked her neck, a sense that she was being watched, and she turned to glance back at the wedding party. Sure enough, Brady’s gaze was locked on her, a frown darkening his expression. Her heart kicked like a mule, and she spun away.

  With a last pat to the mare’s nose, she ducked deeper into the shadows of the barn, out of his line of sight. Another grumble of thunder shook the walls as she sank down on a bale of hay to stew. She’d never get over Brady if she kept running into him in town. Was she better off selling the family home and leaving town, starting fresh somewhere else?

  * * *

  Brady’s hands fisted in frustration. His every impulse was to go after Kara and find out what had upset her. She’d been pale and clearly struggling to breathe. If she was ill, someone should be with her. He’d seen her motion for Hannah to stay put, but regardless of Kara’s instructions, her friend should have followed. He watched with a tight jaw as Kara disappeared into the barn. Something serious had upset her if she’d felt it necessary to leave Nate and April’s wedding ceremony.

  He tried to get Hannah’s attention in order to signal her to check on Kara. But Hannah was watching the approaching storm clouds, as were many of the wedding guests. Rain-scented wind gusted through those assembled, stirring the decorative ribbons and whipping April’s veil like the tail of an angry bronc. The encroaching storm clearly weighed on the minister’s mind as he read through the liturgy with haste.

  Good. The sooner the ceremony ended, the sooner he could find Kara. He intended to not only find out what had upset her just now, but to get overdue answers about why she’d left him. She’d skillfully dodged his questions and his attempts to talk privately for months. That ended today.

  Give her a little space, his friends had advised. She’ll come around.

  She just needs time to realize how much she loves you, had been his grandmother’s unsolicited take.

  Well, Brady had given Kara time and space, and he was tired of the passive approach. Kara and he were made for each other. She had to see that, and he would change her mind, starting today. At the reception. He’d find Kara and insist they talk candidly.

  A murmur of discontent rumbled from the assembled guests, yanking him from his deliberations and concern over Kara’s departure. He turned his attention back to the bridal couple and found them staring at each other with disturbing expressions.

  “April? Don’t do this,” Nate whispered to his bride, his confusion and hurt clear in the furrow of his brow. “What’s wrong?”

  Brady’s pulse tripped. What was happening? He’d been so focused on Kara, he’d missed the catalyst of this interruption to the wedding.

  “I’m s-sorry, Nate.” April’s eyes sparkled with tears, and her face crumpled with guilt and regret. The bouquet she held trembled as much as her voice. “I’m so sorry. I can’t do this.”

  Brady’s gut soured with empathy for his friend. April was jilting him? Here? Now?

  “Uh...do you need a moment?” the minister stammered.

  “April, honey, what is it?” Nate’s father rose from the front row.

  Brady shared Nate’s obvious shock and disappointment, but he kept his attention on April. She pressed a hand to her stomach, and her cheeks lost their color. Her knees seemed to buckle, and she crumpled as—

  Crack!

  Brady tensed as the unmistakable blast of gunfire rang through the ranch yard. Immediately, he shifted into lawman mode. Reaching instinctively for his sidearm, he grumbled a curse when he remembered he wasn’t wearing his gun. He scanned the unfolding scene, taking in as much detail as possible. In the next second, a second shot was fired, a large vase of flowers behind the bride shattered, and the stunned crowd, realizing what was happening, erupted in panic.

  Pulling his bride to safety, Nate rushed for the cover of a nearby pecan tree. Wedding guests screamed and either ducked or ran for cover.

  Brady dropped low and scuttled over to the bridal couple. April had wrapped a protective arm across her baby bump.

  “Is she hurt?” he asked Nate.

  “No. But that was too close for comfort.”

  “Agreed.” Brady glanced to the minister, who’d taken cover behind the portable altar. “Reverend?”

  The minister nodded. “I’m fine.”

  Still crouched low, Brady spotted the bullet hole that pocked the trunk of the pecan tree and followed the trajectory of the gunfire to—his gut swooped—the barn. Where Kara had disappeared only moments ago.

  His heart seizing, Brady sprinted toward the barn. He dodged fleeing wedding guests as another shot reverberated over the melee. When he spied one of his deputies directing guests to the safety of the main ranch house, he shouted, “Wilhite, the shooter’s in the barn! Cover the back exit...” To another uniformed deputy, in attendance to direct traffic, he ordered, “Anderson, give me your gun and call for backup!”

  Anderson handed Brady his sidearm and unclipped his radio. “Dispatch, 10-33! Shots fired at Wheeler Ranch.”

  “Someone, help!” Nate’s mother cried from the first row of chairs. “George has been shot!”

  Brady stumbled to a stop and spun back toward the wedding assembly. Though a bone-deep urgency pulled him toward the barn to find Kara, his sense of duty fought a tug-of-war. The shooter, the injured man, safety of the guests...this was his first real test as the interim sheriff.

  Seeing several people scurry to aid the groom’s father, Brady cast another glance to Deputy Anderson. Before he could shout his order, he heard Anderson tell dispatch, “10-52! Repeat, shots fired! Send backup and ambulance—”

  Another shot fired inside the barn, and ice filled Brady’s veins. His feet were moving again, toward the barn, toward the woman he couldn’t bear to lose. “Kara!”

  * * *

  The crack of rifle fire jolted Kara from her brooding. At first she’d blamed a close lightning strike for the boom that had echoed through the barn. When the sound repeated, a bolt of alarm streaked through her. The bridal couple’s horses were also unsettled by the loud noises. For an instant, s
he wondered if the gunfire was some part of the wedding ceremony, a military-esque salute of some sort. But the screams and sounds of chaos from the wedding guests disabused her of that idea. A deep chill settled over her. Something was very wrong.

  Her heartbeat thundering in an anxious cadence, she rose from the hay bale to investigate, grabbing the reins of the dappled mare to settle her.

  “Easy, girl,” she crooned in a hushed tone.

  The shots seemed to have come from inside the barn. She’d thought she was alone, but a low, grumbled curse dragged her attention to the hayloft. Kara took a couple steps back from the horses in order to have a better angle to see who was on the upper level.

  Poised at the loft doors with a tripod and scope-equipped rifle, a man in a dark T-shirt and faded jeans took aim at the wedding party. And fired another shot. Toward the bridal couple. Toward Hannah and her friends from town. Toward Brady.

  “No!” she gasped in horror.

  Hearing her, the sniper snapped his head around and locked gazes with her.

  A chill slithered through her as his menacing dark eyes narrowed. Something oddly familiar about him tickled her brain. She didn’t know the man, but she knew she’d never forget his sharply angled face or the deadly intent that blazed in his glare.

  He let a filthy curse word fly and groped for a pistol at his side. The shock that had rooted her for precious seconds morphed into action. As the sniper swung his weapon up and squeezed off a shot, she used her bullfighter-honed skills to leap and tumble behind a plastic barrel full of water. The bullet left a gaping hole in one side of the container, and water sprayed out. Plastic was no match for a high-speed projectile, a fact borne out when the man fired again.

  Kara tucked into a tight ball, just as a bullet ripped through the barrel and pinged off the steel bar of a squeeze chute behind her. Her fright kicked into survival mode, an adrenaline-fueled instinct for flight. She’d seen the sniper’s face. Could identify him. Clearly his intent was to silence the only eyewitness.

  Shaking to her core, Kara got her feet under her and sprang from her huddle behind the now-shredded barrel. She sprinted toward the bridal couple’s horses, which kicked the ground and tossed their heads, spooked by the noise and tumult. In one deft swipe, she unclipped the dapple gray mare, then launched into the decorated saddle. Slapping the reins, she urged the horse to run.