Cowboy In The Crossfire(19)

"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?"