Christmas Justice (Carder Texas Connections #7)(19)

“Too loud,” Molly whimpered, shaking her head back and forth, clasping her ears with her hands and squatting down.

Damn it. She’d made herself a target. The cat hunched down on its front paws, clearly preparing to pounce. Garrett couldn’t wait. What he wouldn’t give for his father’s old Remington. He could take out the animal with one shot. A rifle was so much more accurate than a handgun at this distance.

The cat growled, opening its mouth in a show of aggression.

Molly squealed and tumbled backward, becoming a perfect target for the predator.

Garrett ran at Molly, shouting. He had to get closer. Startled, the animal shifted its focus, turning away from Molly. Garrett took four shots at the mountain lion. The big cat yowled once and bounded away, disappearing into the cover of the trees. He’d aimed the shots wide on purpose. Injuring the animal could have done more harm than good, especially if he hadn’t been able to take it down. A wounded cat could tear out Molly’s throat in seconds.

He’d played the odds.

Thankfully, the animal hadn’t gone against its nature. Garrett kept his weapon on hold, searching beyond the shrubs and pi?ons for the cougar. Cats were normally reclusive, avoiding humans, but they were curious as well.

“Get her,” he called to Laurel.

Behind him, she scooped Molly into her arms. The little girl sobbed. Laurel hugged her niece close. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

Garrett backed toward them, scanning the perimeter, but there was no movement beyond the tree line. He kept the Beretta in his hand and headed to the house.

“I—I want my mommy.” Molly hiccuped from Laurel’s arms. “Mommy!”

“It’s gone,” he said.

No need to take chances, though. Within seconds, he’d escorted them inside. Once they were safe, he shut and locked the door. The little escape artist had figured out the dead bolt. He’d have to secure the door another way. It had been a long time since he’d childproofed anything.

His knees shook slightly, and he grabbed the doorjamb for support. Garrett could face down at AK-47 or an Uzi without increasing his heart rate by a beat or two.

A milk-faced Laurel sank into the sofa, rocking Molly in her arms. The little girl’s cries tugged at his heart. Laurel rubbed her niece’s back, and she turned her head to Garrett.

Thank you, she mouthed.

He’d brought them here, though. He’d put Molly in danger. He should have anticipated. He knew better. Whoever said girls didn’t get into as much trouble as boys hadn’t lived with his Ella. Or Molly.

“I just wanted to play with the kitty,” she said through hiccups. “He’s the same color as my lion.”

Now that they were safe, Garrett’s breathing slowed from a quick pant. He crouched next to the sofa. “I know, Molly, but that kind of kitty doesn’t play. He’s a wild animal. No more going outside alone. Okay?”

“I want your promise, Molly,” Laurel said, her voice stern. “You can’t go outside without me or Sheriff Garrett.”

The little girl squirmed in Laurel’s arms. “Okay.”

Laurel allowed her niece to slide to the ground, but Garrett didn’t trust that look. His daughter had played the game before. He held Molly firmly by the shoulders, looking her squarely in the eyes. “Listen to me, Molly. Outside is dangerous. We’re in the woods and you could get lost. We might not find you. I want a real promise.”

Her lower lip jutted out.

“Molly.”

She let out a huge sigh. “I promise. Cross my heart, stick a nail in my eye, even if I don’t want to.”

Garrett held on to a chuckle at the little girl’s mutilation of the saying. He stuck out his hand. “Deal.”

She straightened up and placed her small hand in his. “Deal. Can I have something to eat? I’m hungry.”

Kids. Hopefully she’d been scared enough to mind him. Mulling over how he could keep Molly in the cabin, Garrett walked over to the bag of food on the table.

“Play with your stuffed lion, Molly. We’ll let you know when breakfast is ready.”

“His name is Hairy Houdini. Daddy named him after me ’cause I always disappear.” She ran off to the other room, swinging the lion in the air as if he were flying.

Laurel staggered to the kitchen table and slumped in the chair. She held her head in her hands. “Oh, God.”

“You okay?” Garrett asked after pulling a skillet from a cabinet and setting it on the stove.

“My niece was almost a midmorning snack for a mountain lion. Not really.”

“She’s something else.”

Laurel looked at the bedroom door. The little girl had an animated discussion going on with her toy. “Like nothing happened. Is that normal?”

“Kids are more resilient than we are,” Garrett said before he could stop himself.

“You’ve had experience.” Laurel folded her hands together. Quiet settled in the room, with only Molly’s chatter breaking through.

Garrett’s teeth gritted together. He wasn’t having this conversation. She didn’t need to know how he’d failed to protect his own wife and daughter. Not when he needed her to trust him.

So why did silence feel like a lie? “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said. “I need to get the rest of our supplies.” He hurried out the door without giving her time to quiz him.