Cowboy In The Crossfire(17)

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.

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.