Cowboy In The Crossfire

by Robin Perini

  "He looks dangerous." Amanda's whisper filtered from behind.

  Blake's heart skipped a beat at her voice. Utter aloneness had settled over him like a soggy, woolen blanket in this barn full of memories. The loss. The grief. Now, something inside of him longed to touch her, to turn to her. He'd wanted to hold her for longer than he cared to admit. He knew what her lips tasted like. He remembered so clearly when he'd come upon her under the mistletoe two years ago. Vince had egged him on, and she'd blushed, smiling, closing her eyes for a friendly kiss that had turned into so much more. When Blake had lowered his mouth to hers, the electricity between them knocked him over. He'd wrapped his arms around her. She'd parted her mouth under his.

  Only the whoops and hollers had stopped him from sweeping her into a bedroom. One look at Vince's dark expression, though, and Blake had pushed the episode aside. He should do the same thing now. His first duty was to protect her and her son, not succumb to long-denied desires.

  "He is dangerous. He doesn't like strangers." Blake shifted his body between her and Sugar. "Where's Ethan?"

  "Asleep," she said softly, eyeing the snorting horse. "He just nodded off. I'm glad. He needed the rest. He didn't get much on the drive here."

  "Or last night."

  Blake studied her every movement, the straightening of her spine, the flash of frustration in her eyes, the challenging tilt of her chin.

  "You could've left me with him. I'd have taken care of him."

  "You needed the rest, too." Blake took in the dark circles under her eyes, but he couldn't let sympathy derail him. She hadn't been honest. She had to start. He needed to know more. "Ethan screamed in his sleep."

  She jerked her head up, then rubbed the bridge of her nose. The bravado seeped out of her. Her cobalt eyes shone with unshed tears.

  "He screamed in his sleep last night," Blake repeated. "About Vince."

  "I didn't hear him." She leaned against the wall. "He won't talk about it. Not one word about who killed Vince. I don't even know for sure if Ethan saw the murderer."

  Vulnerability poured from her. Blake understood the helpless feeling all too well, but he wouldn't keep the truth from her. "From what he murmured in his sleep, I think he witnessed everything. Vince told Ethan to hide," Blake said. "Your brother probably saved Ethan's life."

  Blake hated to concede the truth. If nothing else, Vince had tried to protect his own family. Just no one else's.

  "Vince was a good man, Blake. I know you don't believe that right now, but he was."

  "He lied to me about how my family died."

  At the sound of his raised voice, Sugar rammed against his stall with an infuriated whinny.

  Amanda jumped back and stumbled against a saddle. The stirrup swung as she caught herself.

  "Get away from there. He goes crazy if anyone touches Dad's saddle. Go to the other side of the aisle."

  "What's wrong with him?" she asked.

  "He killed my father."

  She gasped but didn't leave. She shifted, clearly ill at ease, and licked her lips. "Why would you care for an animal that hurt you so badly?"

  Blake studied the horse, trying not to let his gaze linger on the slight parting of her mouth. "I'm not sure. It just doesn't feel right to blame him. Sugar hasn't been the same since he kicked Dad in the head. The vet suggested we put him down. Mom couldn't do it, so I keep him. I'm the only one he'll let ride him these days." The horse snorted and glared at Blake, pawing at the gate. "Will you just go until I figure out our next move? I'm in as good a mood as Sugar."

  "You care about him despite what he did?" Her voice was curious, with a hint of challenge.

  Blake could see where she was going. He thought for a moment. "He always had a bad temper, but he was proud, confident. We think he was spooked during a storm and struck out blindly. Now he's got an edge to him. Anger, fear, regret. Maybe that's why I can't put him down."

  "Maybe Vince deserves the same benefit of the doubt."

  Blake threw the hay into the stall. "Have at it, Sugar." The horse gave the feed a disdainful look. "Yeah, I know. Oats, too. Dad spoiled you." Blake mixed the delicacy. The greedy animal watched, but Blake could have sworn the beast kept his eye on Amanda, too. Just as he knew Amanda was watching him.

  He turned and crossed the aisle to stand so near her that he could study any small change in her expression. He tilted his Stetson. "At least Sugar shows remorse. Vince never did."

  Pain flashed in her eyes and a slight wince twisted her lips. "You're wrong."

  He ignored the small intake of breath, the delicacy of her skin, even the slight blush in her cheeks almost hidden by the wild curl of her auburn hair.

  "It doesn't matter now. Life goes on, and you deal with it. My priorities are to keep you, Ethan and my town safe, find out the truth about my family and bring the guilty to justice. No more. No less."

  He backed away from temptation, from the ache to touch and play with those curls, just to see if she still smelled of jasmine, and if his body still leaped to attention at the scent.

  Sugar whinnied, and Blake reached into his pocket for a lump of sugar. He eased over to the stall and stuck his hand in, palm flat. "You bite me, and it's over."

  As if Sugar knew Blake was serious, he snatched the treat and paced.

  "If you want to protect me, then help me leave. Help me disappear." She reached for Blake's arm and tugged at his coat. Her hand brushed his. She didn't understand how his skin could be warm when her body shivered with cold, clear to the bone. She quaked in the flimsy coat. "Please. For Ethan."

  She leaned closer and met his gaze, trying to read his intentions, trying to ascertain how much she could count on him. He shrugged out of his sheepskin, and with unbelievably gentle hands, wrapped the warm, wool-lined jacket around her. She had to sigh as Blake's own heat seeped into her skin from the lining, like a cocoon of protection. She wanted to close her eyes and lean on him, to let Blake take over. She'd wanted his embrace since that mind-blowing kiss that Christmas Eve. Her knees trembled and she clutched at him. He clasped her arms in his warm hands, his gaze compelling her to look at him. The gold flecks in his hazel eyes burned hot with intensity. And something else. Something she'd thought she'd never see again. Desire.

  "You don't have to face this alone." His voice had gone low as he stared her down. His breath caught. The awareness dancing between them sparked to life.

  Her heart fluttered in response to his nearness. She could feel the heat radiating from him. Not only from his body, but also from his gaze. Why was this happening to her?

  She wanted nothing from him except a way to run.

  Instead, her lips tingled, wanting to be tasted. She licked them, and he let out a small moan. He cupped her cheek and tugged at the auburn curls that had escaped from their clip. Gently, he pushed her hair from her face. "Did I ever tell you that you're beautiful?"

  "Blake--"

  "No, I wouldn't have. You were forbidden fruit."

  He leaned in slowly, giving her plenty of time to resist him, but she couldn't back away. No matter what her mind screamed, her instincts kept her feet firmly planted. "This is a bad idea. There's too much going on. It's not real." The pulse in his throat throbbed, and a whiff of pine from his cologne tickled her nostrils. Her favorite. Did she love that scent because Blake had always worn it? "I have to disappear. I can't stay."

  Her heart pounded in anticipation even as she uttered the halfhearted resistance.

  "I always wondered," he whispered, "if you really tasted as good as I remembered. Christmas sweet and spice." He rubbed his thumb on her lower lip. "May I?"

  She didn't think, just nodded her head.

  With a deep groan, he tugged her into his arms and took her lips with a force that made her whimper. No one had ever kissed her like he was too hungry to let her go.

  He wrapped her in his arms and when he pressed her lips open, she gladly let him in. He was right. She'd wondered if the kiss had been a fluke for longer than sh
e'd wanted to admit. She pressed closer to him, her breasts crushing against his broad chest.

  Heat sprang between them, and her body sizzled with want. Low in her belly, the recognition of her yearning for this man kindled something she hadn't felt in too long.

  No fluke. She let herself sink into the feelings. She wanted so much to let him lay her down in this hay and make the world go away. Erase everything that had happened. She felt at home in his arms.

  Amanda rubbed her hands over the strength of his muscles, the broadness of his shoulders, the narrowness at his waist. His response to her touch was primal and immediate. She could feel his hardness grow against her belly.

  He wanted her. As much as she wanted him.

  A loud car horn sounded from the driveway. Amanda couldn't stop the thud of her heart. Her knees shook as she tried to steady herself. She would have let him take her. Here in the barn. This wasn't good. She wrenched her mouth from beneath Blake's and pushed him away. "Oh, God, have they found us?"

  "Stay here. I'm not expecting anyone." Blake pulled a Glock off the tackbox and strode to the barn door. He cursed. "It's my deputy, Parris. Keep out of sight."

  Amanda knelt near the door and peeked out. The older man had stopped not far from where her car had skidded. He knelt down and studied the ground. Hopefully he wouldn't find anything. The melting ice and the tow should have destroyed any footprints.

  Another reason to leave, despite the kiss. She touched her fingers to her tender lips. Blake's touch had been everything she'd fantasized. Another memory to keep her warm at night when she was alone.

  Blake reached Parris, and Amanda strained to hear.

  "What're you doing here?"

  "Scooter called me about the car I ran. He found a bloody scarf and a gun on the front seat." Parris rose and slapped his hat on his thigh. "The station wagon was stolen from an Austin bar. Not too far from where you used to work." He crossed his arms. "You didn't patrol last night. You asked me to check on your mama. For the first time ever. Wanna tell me what's going on?"

  The deputy stood toe-to-toe with Blake. The man had guts. Even from here, Amanda could see Blake's posture straightening, his stance threatening. She'd run the other way if he ever looked at her like that.

  Blake leaned forward and said something pointed and short to the deputy, who stood firm, his expression mutinous.

  Not a good sign.

  Finally, the man nodded stiffly, got back into his car and took off. Amanda let out the breath she'd been holding. What had Blake told him? Too much? She waited until the deputy's car had turned off the road and disappeared from sight before she stood.

  Blake returned to the barn and nodded at a speaker on the barn wall. "Ethan wake up?"

  "Not a peep. Even your dog didn't bark."

  "Leo knows a friend when he sees one."

  "Is Parris a friend?"

  "My dad's best friend since they were kids. And a good deputy."

  "Which means I have to worry about him."

  "He's loyal. He's taking care of a job for me." Blake's expression had closed off--stubborn and oh-so-stoic. He was hiding something. She recognized the signs. He and Vince were so alike.

  "Is he checking up on me?"

  "You don't trust me at all, do you?"

  "I know what I'm asking." She touched her lower lip. "It's gotten complicated, hasn't it?"

  His eyes flared as he focused on her mouth. "I want you safe, but the moment you told me about my family you changed the game. Because now we know they'll kill the innocent to get what they want. You'll never be safe."

  Blake's words slapped her, but she knew he was right. "Does Parris know I'm here?"

  "He's suspicious. You jacked the car from Austin. You came here. Your blood will place you in the car.

  A gun was on the seat. Probably with your prints on it. Am I right?"

  Amanda nodded.

  "Please don't tell me it's Vince's gun."

  When he said it like that, the reality of her situation made her tremble. They could use the facts against her. She'd taken a gun from a crime scene. They could tie her back to Vince's murder. What had she done?

  Blake shook his head, almost in disbelief. "The evidence is stone cold, Amanda. What am I supposed to do about that? The only thing keeping a warrant from being issued right now is you took your purse last night. I found it in the ditch."

  The ringing of his cell phone echoed through the barn.

  "Redmond." He listened and his lips grew tight. "When?"

  Blake's sharp question made Amanda's insides quake.

  "You get the plate?" he asked. He let out a low whistle. "Rental. Coordinate with Parris. I'll leave him instructions."

  "What--" Amanda began.

  Blake held up his hand and pressed a button on his phone. "Parris, it's Blake. Don't wait. Get over to Mom's house now. Take her to the rendezvous point. Coordinate with Smithson."

  No. This couldn't be happening. They'd found them. Amanda headed toward the barn door.

  "My father was your best friend. Trust me," Blake said. "I'll be in touch."

  She paused and stared after him. What did he think he was doing?

  "I'll send the horses into the pasture. Get the Collins kid to corral them up. Except Sugar. But only after you check things out. And Parris, don't trust anyone asking about me or that car Scooter's got." He paused. "Especially cops."

  He snapped the phone closed. "We're out of time. Someone must've taken a plane or been halfway here already. Deputy Smithson stopped two strangers speeding like idiots on these icy roads. Austin cops heading toward town. They could be here any minute."

  Amanda's heart sank. She should never have come to Blake. "Ethan!"

  She raced to the barn door, Blake beside her. Just as they reached the opening, a car careened down the driveway and skidded to a halt. Blake wrapped his arm around Amanda's waist, stopping her momentum. She cried out in pain. He loosened his grip and tugged her back into the building just as two men jumped out, their faces hidden by ski masks.

  A spray of gunfire peppered the barn.

  Her side burning like fire, Amanda struggled against Blake. She had to get to the house. "Ethan."

  "You'll be dead two steps out the door," he hissed in her ear. He grabbed her and settled her in the corner of a stall, then palmed his Glock. "You know how to shoot this?"

  "Vince trained me."

  "I don't have an extra clip." He handed her the weapon. "Fifteen rounds. Make every shot count."

  "What are you going to do?"

  "Get Ethan."

  Amanda grasped the gun confidently and released the safety before pointing the barrel to the ground.

  "Like a pro. I should've known." He smiled at her, the deadly smile of a man going into battle. "Keep them occupied. I'll make my way around back. Grab Ethan. We'll leave in the old truck. Be ready."

  "That bucket of bolts at the side of the barn? Does it even run?"

  "You'd be surprised." Blake clasped her fingers in his. "You can do this. I'll be back with Ethan."

  "We'll never outrun them."

  He smiled, his expression devilish. "You let me take care of that."

  A flicker of hope flared in her chest. He had a plan.

  "I'll bring your son back to you. I promise."

  She bit her lip and nodded.

  "When I give you the signal, take two or three shots."

  Blake stacked several hay bales against the wall of the barn as a barricade, then slid aside two small pieces of wood. One left a hole just large enough for a gun. The other was at spotting height.

  "You can't be serious?"

  "What can I tell you? My buddies and I played Alamo when I was a kid." His voice turned quiet, his expression serious. "Amanda, unlike in history, I always won."

  Blake snagged the weapon from her hands, went to the door and took two shots. He handed the gun back to her. "Go! Shoot!"

  Amanda clasped the weapon in her hands, fell onto the hay and squeezed off
three more rounds through the hole.

  Blake leaped out the barn door and raced across the yard. To her horror, one of the men noticed him. He shifted his aim toward Blake's running figure.

  "Blake!" she screamed and pulled the trigger.

  Chapter Four

  Amanda's warning scream sent Blake diving for the porch. The bullet whizzed past his ear, the high-pitched sound riding a hot puff of air. Damn, that was close. His shoulder hit the frozen ground, and he rolled over with a grunt to peer across the yard from behind the wooden slats.

  The Glock thundered another shot as Amanda squeezed the trigger. One of the men yelped and grabbed his arm. "Good job, honey," Blake whispered. She knew how to handle that gun. Better than most. "Thank you, Vince."

  "Blake!" she shouted. "Are you okay?"

  "Fine! Keep shooting."

  He hoped she recognized his words were for their assailants more than her. He didn't want them to know she was down to her last ten bullets.

  A shot slapped near his head. Good. He'd diverted some of their attention from her. He changed positions and stood, out of the line of sight of their ambush, but visible to her. He could make out her sag of relief.

  Once she saw him, she refocused on the men behind the car. Another bevy of shots whizzed past him. He was running out of time. Blake raced around the back of the house and tried the knob. The brass wouldn't give. Locked. Just his luck. No time for subtlety. He kicked in the door and ran to Ethan's room.

  Empty.

  "Ethan. It's Sheriff Blake."

  Silence.

  The poor kid was probably hiding and traumatized, afraid to call out. Luckily, Blake could count on someone who wouldn't stay quiet. "Leo? Where are you, boy?"

  The mutt let out a muffled bark from beneath the bed. Blake knelt down and found Ethan hiding his face in Leo's fur.

  The dog licked the boy's hand, but Ethan shook his head and his grip tightened. "Have to hide," he muttered.

  Blake wanted to grab the little boy, hug him and tell him everything would be all right. Problem was, he'd have been lying. "Stay here, Ethan. I'll be back for you," Blake promised. The boy was safe for now. "Watch out for him, mutt. I gotta create a distraction." He couldn't run across the yard like a carnival chicken with Ethan in his arms. Not without a fighting chance of getting to the barn alive.