Cowboy In The Crossfire(16)

"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.