by Robin Perini
Shots rang out again. The telltale sound of the Glock echoed. One more bullet down. The minute she ran out of ammo, the perps would kill her. He palmed the horse antibiotics from the spare room, then hurried into Joey's bedroom and ripped open one of the boxes of his toys. Blake shoved through the balls and games, ignoring the waves of emotion threatening to drown him. He couldn't afford to get lost in the memories inundating him. He had to stay focused. He needed to find Joey's last Christmas present.
Where had he put it? The packing had been a blur. He'd thrown items in boxes trying not to think. He shoved aside two more boxes and a tall one loomed from the center of the room. He remembered putting toys in there. Joey had barely had a chance to play with the overabundance Blake had showered on his son that Christmas, trying to make up for too little time spent with him.
Blake tore at the taped lid of the cardboard box and dug through the toys and games. "Got 'em." He pulled out a ping-pong set, complete with two dozen balls.
He grabbed them and raced to the kitchen heading toward a rarely used drawer. Thank goodness for his mother. She believed no one should be without aluminum foil. Staying clear of the window, he counted another shot from the Glock. Damn.
Blake risked a quick look out the kitchen window. No clear shot from here. He couldn't see Amanda from this angle either, but she showed impressive discipline, firing just enough to keep the attackers pinned down.
He could kiss her again for being that smart--and that tough.
Moving fast and furious he snipped the ping-pong balls into shards with kitchen shears and used the foil to create three small bombs. Then he snagged a lighter. He ran to the living room and unlocked the gun cabinet. He grabbed extra clips for the Glock and his granddad's World War II Colt Model 1911. The .45 caliber bullets would blow a hole in anyone that tried to come after them.
He stuffed the clips into his pockets and the gun into the back of his jeans before running to Ethan's room.
No time to coax him. "Out, mutt," Blake ordered.
Leo scampered from beneath the mattress just as Blake reached under the bed and tugged Ethan by his jeans. He flipped the boy onto his back. The boy's eyes were squeezed shut, afraid to look. He whimpered in fear. Blake's heart twisted in agony. "Ethan, it's Sheriff Blake. Open your eyes. I'm taking you out of here."
The boy blinked through his blank stare. His clouded eyes cleared. "Mommy?"
"We're going to her." Blake plopped Ethan on his feet and zipped him into his coat. "You have to be brave right now. Do what I say."
"Have to hide. Uncle Vince said so."
Several loud cracks sounded from outside. Ethan shrank and tried to dive under the bed, but Blake hugged him tight. "Uncle Vince was right. Hiding is a good idea, but right now we have to get to your mom, okay, buddy?"
Ethan hesitated, looked up at Blake, and then nodded.
He grasped his truck in his hand. Blake looked at the yellow toy with a sigh. It was bulky, but the kid needed something to keep. "Good boy." He rose with Ethan in his arms. "Hold on tight to that truck. Leo, come."
The dog followed Blake to the back door. More cracks rang through the air. Blake set Ethan down and raised the bag. "Okay, buddy. See these? They're going to hide us, but I need you to do exactly what I tell you."
Ethan stuffed his thumb into his mouth and Blake let out a long stream of air. Most grown men wouldn't handle this kind of pressure. What could he expect from a five-year-old?
"Hold Leo's collar." Blake knew the mutt wouldn't move, but it would give Ethan something to hang on to. "I'm gonna light one of these. When it smokes, I'll come back and get you. Then we go to Mommy. Okay?"
Amanda's son bit his lip and grabbed the leather around the dog's neck.
"It's important, Ethan. Don't move until I say."
He nodded.
Blake stood. He could see Amanda's legs from this angle. She was focused. Good. No way could she help him get the hundred yards to the barn with boy and dog in tow. Except to continue firing.
Blake grabbed one of the makeshift bombs and lit the bottom. Once it caught fire, he ran out from behind the house and set it down.
Within seconds, white smoke poured from the opening of the foil funnel. The shots stopped momentarily.
"Can you see Redmond?" one of the men cursed.
More shots rang out. A flurry of four pops from the barn peppered near the guys' feet. Those would be all but her last bullet. Blake had run out of time. He lit the other two bombs and grabbed Ethan under one arm so the boy was protected as much as possible from the sight of the gunfight. "Let's go, Leo."
The dog stayed at Blake's side. Timing was everything. He tossed the second bomb down just as the first petered out. Amanda's last shot rang out. Blake let loose the final bomb. Within seconds, he'd made it to the side of the barn and bundled Leo and Ethan into the truck.
"Stay on the floor, I'm getting your mom."
Ethan hugged Leo to him and buried his face in the animal's fur.
The smoke was dwindling, but there was still enough to distract. Blake raced for the barn door. When he entered, Amanda stood, her entire body shaking, an empty gun in her hand, her face pale.
"Ethan?"
"In the truck. Give me the gun."
Blake snapped in one of the extra clips he'd pocketed. He handed Amanda a set of keys and a wad of cash. "I'll cover you. If anything happens to me, take the truck. Disappear."
She stared at the money and stuffed it in her pocket. The color returned to her cheeks. Damn she was brave.
"Ready," she said.
"Go." Blake shot several rounds as Amanda raced out of the barn.
When she rounded the corner, he took aim at the intruders' tires. Two shots. Two flats. Then he looked at his Sheriff's SUV. He sighed. They could hot-wire it in seconds.
Two more shots, two more flats. Another hit to his budget he'd eat, but it should delay them for a while.
A wild set of whinnies escaped from the stalls. The horses. Sugar banged against the wooden slats. He opened up all the stalls except Sugar's and let out a roar.
"Get out of here!" he yelled. "Yah!"
The horses raced out of the barn toward the pasture. Blake opened Sugar's gate and the horse eyed him with suspicion.
"You, too, beast. Protect them."
As if the animal understood, Sugar raised his hooves in the air and galloped out the gate. Blake dived around the corner and ran to the now-idling truck. Amanda sat in the driver's seat.
"Scoot over," he said. "Lay down until we get clear."
She slipped across the torn vinyl and tried to comfort Ethan. Blake wrenched the old truck into gear. "Come on, baby," he coaxed. He pulled the truck around and behind the barn.
The gunshots had stopped. He tore across the alfalfa field to a section of old wooden fencing. Without hesitation he barreled through the planks.
In his rearview mirror he caught one the guys in the ski masks kicking the flattened tire. The other limped toward the Sheriff's SUV. They'd be frustrated for a while. Blake stomped on the accelerator and headed toward the main road.
"You can get up now," he said.
Amanda rose, shoving her riotous curls out of her face. She reached down to the floorboard. "Ethan, want to sit with Mommy?"
The boy shook his head at Amanda, remaining huddled next to Leo at their feet, clutching the yellow truck.
Amanda shot Blake a concerned look. He didn't like the returned vagueness on the boy's face, but nothing would erase the fear until Blake could arrest the perps. "Leave him be. He feels safe."
She let a hand rest on Ethan's head before looking around them. "Where are we going?"
Blake eased his foot off the accelerator as he reached a bridge. He recognized the glisten of black ice. "Off the pavement for one thing."
He turned onto a dirt road that clearly hadn't seen traffic since the storm hit. The truck hit a pothole. Amanda yelped and clutched at her side.
"Sorry," he said. "Can you gut it
out for a while longer?"
"If he can, I can." She nodded at Ethan who was whispering to Leo. "There were two of them this time," she said, her voice low.
"Only one attacked you in Austin?" Blake asked.
"I couldn't have fended off two."
"You held your own today. Good shot."
"I was lucky."
"You were smart. I was impressed. Learn how to take a compliment."
When she didn't respond, Blake stared out at the frostbitten landscape. "It was too easy," he mused.
"What are you talking about? We barely escaped," she hissed.
"They could've taken us out. They had the firepower. They knew my name, and I recognized the moves. Definitely Austin cops."
Amanda shivered in her seat as Blake sent her a sidelong glance. "They want you alive. For a while."
"They have a funny way of showing it." Her hand moved to her side.
"What do they want from you, Amanda?"
She bit her lip. "The guy who attacked me said something about Vince's file. He tried to bargain with me. Our lives for the file." She paused. "I didn't believe him."
"Evidence," Blake surmised. "What was Vince up to?"
The truck hit a large dirt pothole, and Amanda whimpered. "I don't know, but he never gave me anything."
Blake steered around the next hole in the road. "Well, we know one thing. We've got to find that file. Before they do."
* * *
AMANDA SHIVERED in the frigid cold of the old truck, wrapping Blake's coat tighter around her as he dialed a number on his cell phone. Leo warmed her lower legs, so she knew Ethan wouldn't be chilled. She had no idea how long they'd driven, and she wouldn't mind continuing all the way to Mexico--if that's where Blake headed--except that every bounce on the road made her side burn. She could live with the hurt. Each slice of pain was proof they were alive. Blake had saved Ethan. Blake had saved her.
"No, I don't want to leave a message," Blake snapped into his cell phone. "I'll call back later."
He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and glanced at the dashboard.
"Where are we going?" Amanda said.
"Not where I'd planned."
He glanced in the rearview mirror, pulled onto a dirt road and stopped the truck.
"What are you doing?"
"Keeping them from tracking us," he said. He dug his phone and a utility knife out of his pocket. With deft movements he opened the back of the phone, then removed the battery. He slipped the phone into his pocket. "Do you have a cell?"
She shook her head. "I lost it the night of the attack. Blake, what are we going to do?"
"For now, get off the road, hole up and figure out where that evidence is and how we can use it." He pulled onto the highway, executed a U-turn and hit another series of dirt roads.
Amanda was thoroughly lost in minutes. She sent a sidelong glance at Blake. A small puff of cold air escaped his mouth, but he didn't show any reaction to the cold, even though she snuggled in his sheepskin coat. Beneath his Stetson, his strong jaw held coiled tension and intensity. The gorgeous man sitting beside her could have posed for a picture next to the words duty and honor. If he committed to a woman or a cause, Amanda had no doubt he'd follow through. The realization lit a small tingle of hope. She was way out of her league. Could Blake find a way to help them?
The idea thrilled and scared her at the same time. Even now, she wanted to lean into his strong embrace and rest against the crook of his shoulder. She scanned his passionate and firm lips. She wanted another taste, another chance to feel the strength of his mouth parting hers, demanding, subduing. Another opportunity to feel held by a man who really could be in her corner. A man who could make a difference.
"You stare at me like that much longer, and I won't be responsible for my actions," he said, his voice husky.
Her face heated. "I...uh--"
One side of his full lips tilted up. "Don't worry, I won't act on the temptation. Yet." He paused. "We're almost there. See that windmill?"
The structure loomed in the distance, growing with every minute. As Blake's vehicle approached it, a large ranch house and a series of barns and pens rose above the icy ground. The place looked deserted.
"Who lives here?"
"The Maddoxes are visiting their granddaughter, who just had a baby. Their house is empty. Old man Maddox sold off most of his stock a few years ago. So no hands. Only thing we'll have to worry about is keeping out of sight of the kid who feeds what's left of the animals. We'll be safe here until I come up with a game plan."
"Are we really?" Amanda touched a shaking hand to Ethan's head. She didn't even ask him to take his thumb out of his mouth. How could she when she longed to take comfort in any scrap of hope. "I don't have what
those guys want, and they want it bad. Can we ever be safe?"
He pulled around the back of the large ranch house and rumbled to a stop. Twisting toward her, he cupped her cheek and his gaze burned into hers. "Listen to me, Amanda. Trust me. I can help."
When she didn't answer, he sighed and opened the door, his expression disappointed. "I'll check the place out. Wait here."
She believed Blake would do everything he could, but Vince had thought he could keep them safe as well. Look where good intentions got her brother.
As Blake circled the house, Ethan squirmed from the floorboard and peered out the windshield. He pointed to the farm equipment, sitting near a shed a ways away. "Look over there, Mommy. It's a tractor like Billy's." He twisted around. "There's a big cow behind that fence."
"It's a bull," Amanda said.
"This place is neat." Ethan scrambled toward the open door. His foot caught her side, and she gasped, waves of pain shooting through her.
"What happened?" Blake's sharp question out of nowhere had Ethan shrinking back against her.
She held her son next to her, and sucked in a soft breath, praying the wound hadn't started bleeding again. "It's nothing."
"The hell you say." He rounded the vehicle and opened the passenger door, lifting Ethan to the ground. Leo leaped out, and Blake leaned into Amanda. "How bad? Really?"
"It's fine."
"You're lying. You look ready to pass out." Blake whipped around as Ethan started across the field toward the large green tractor. "Son, this place isn't a playground and the tractor isn't a toy. Come with us."
The boy paused, clearly tempted.
"Ethan," Amanda called. "Mind Sheriff Blake."
With a long sigh, Ethan slunk back to the truck, his chin sagging as he kicked at the brown grass still laden with remnants of ice.
Blake handed Amanda Ethan's yellow truck, then gently lifted her into his arms. She didn't protest. Her side burned like fire. She wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Why are you carrying Mommy?" Ethan asked, running up to them.
"She's tired," Blake said. "She's going to rest for a while."
"Mommies don't take naps." Ethan crossed his arms, so certain in his statement, Amanda bit back a smile in spite of the twinges.
Blake looked ready to spout off more orders, and she knew her son well enough to recognize the bit of stubbornness edging into his voice. She was surprised she hadn't seen this side of him sooner.
"I need to rest, honey. Okay?"
With a pout in his lip, Ethan nodded. Blake led them around to the front porch and snagged a key from above the jamb. After turning the lock and pushing through the door, he dumped the truck and house keys on the entryway table. He set her carefully on the overstuffed living room sofa before closing every drape and shutter in the room. "Keep that coat on," he told her as Ethan and Leo ran past. "I'll warm this place up, then we'll take a look."
Amanda rubbed her ungloved hands together and blew hot air into them to try to keep the circulation going as much as to distract herself. "How about a fire?"
Blake searched the wall for a thermostat and set it. "I don't want to use the woodstove. No need to advertise our presence with a smoke signal."
"Sorry," she muttered. "Stupid idea." She cursed herself for not thinking of the obvious. She'd have given them away for a little warmth.
He rounded on her. "You're not stupid. You're in a strange situation, in a place you don't know. You were right. We need heat. Don't sell yourself short."
She warmed at his fierce defense but knew he was just being kind. She'd made some dumb decisions in her life. She looked at her son as he explored the corners of the living room, Leo by his side. Ethan was the best thing she'd ever done.
The furnace kicked on, and the comforting hum yanked her out of a path of self-doubt. She knew better than to continue on that road. She'd exited it when she'd left Carl, her ex, and his pseudo-criminal lifestyle. She refused to let herself get back on that highway.
"I'll search out the rooms and find Ethan a safe place to play while I look at your wound."
"That's not necessary."
"I can't risk an infection setting in. You shouldn't, either," he said, shooting her a frown before disappearing down the hallway.
Part of her wanted to thank him for taking charge, but she still bristled at his high-handed attitude. He was way too comfortable giving orders. She heard several doors opening and closing throughout the house.
"Blankets," Amanda called out, her teeth chattering. "We'll need them until the house warms up."
The moment she said the words, he appeared with a stack of hand-knitted afghans. He sent her an arrogant grin before turning to her son. "Ethan, I found a good place for you to camp out and play while your mom rests."
"I gotta take care of Mommy. I promised."
Amanda stood, unable to stop the wince. Blake was right, dang him. She walked over to Ethan and placed a kiss on his forehead before swiping at the errant strands of hair falling down his forehead. He'd seen too much. It wasn't fair. "Sheriff Blake will take care of me, little man. I'll be in later to check on you."
"Can Leo play?" Ethan asked.
