Cowboy In The Crossfire(30)

Amanda walked out of the room. Blake followed. "I want to be back soon," she said.

"Rich is prepping the Piper," Logan said. "You should be ready to take off in a few minutes."

Blake stuck out his hand. "We'll be back as soon as we can. If anyone comes asking..."

"I didn't see you."

Blake paused for a moment and met his friend's world-weary gaze. "Especially the cops."

"I'll evade the questions as long as I can," he said, his face determined. "You'd better take this." Logan handed him a cell phone. "It's traceable, but only by me and my men."

"Thanks. Give Parris and my mom the number. No one else."

Less than a half hour later, Blake and Amanda strapped into the Piper Lance.

"What if they're waiting for us?" Amanda said through the headphones.

"Logan set up a car so we can stay under the radar," he said. "We'll approach on foot. You've been gone two days. I would imagine they've searched the house. And if they'd found anything, they wouldn't still be after you."

She nodded, and Blake watched the tapping of her foot as the flatness of the West Texas skyline gave way to Austin's rolling hills and trees. Amazing what ninety minutes in a plane could do.

Blake had thought the first time he'd made the trek to Austin, he'd found home. He'd been wrong. It wasn't the place that made home, it was the people.

The plane landed.

"I need to check on Ethan," Amanda said quickly. "Please."

Blake powered on the phone Logan had given him, punched in a number and handed it to her. She placed it to her ear and closed her eyes in relief.

After a quick conversation with Ethan, she let out a sigh. "He's okay. I don't even think he misses me."

She returned the phone to Blake, and as her hand brushed his, a tingle of awareness fired through him. He gripped her fingers and squeezed.

She cleared her throat. "Parris wants to speak with you. He said it's important."

Blake didn't let go of her hand. "Parris? Did you locate the Austin cops?"

"We found Smithson in your barn. Sugar kicked him in the head. He's in a coma."





Chapter Seven


The plane eased up to the Austin-area fuel station near a half-full hangar, but Blake didn't budge as they came to a stop. Amanda could hear the strain in his voice and see the tightness around his mouth, the spasm in his jaw. As he bit out soft, yet staccato questions, she put the pieces together of what had happened to Blake's deputy. Her heart twisted in sympathy.

The same horse that had killed his father.

She couldn't imagine how he felt, but he didn't show it. With each passing second, the frown line between his eyes grew deeper. How long could he keep such a tight rein on his control without exploding?

"I shooed Sugar out of the barn. What would have possessed him to come back?" Blake rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Tell the vet what happened, but don't let anyone else deal with the situation. I'll take care of it when I get home. Just make sure you put the word out to the surrounding ranches that Sugar's dangerous. And keep me informed about Smithson. Tell his wife..." Blake paused. "Tell his wife I'll be by as soon as I can."

He ended the call. Amanda placed a hand on his arm, but he shrugged her away. "I should've told everyone to stay away from my place."

The plane's engines stopped. "Problem?" Rich removed his earphones and shifted in the pilot's seat to look at them.

"Something I'll deal with. After we lock up these guys." Blake's lips thinned. "Keep the plane ready. We may have to leave quickly."

"Logan said to back you up," Rich argued.

"I need you standing by in a separate location. If this goes wrong, get word to Logan and fly Amanda out. Fast."

Rich studied Blake for a moment, then nodded. The pilot unlatched the plane door and pushed it open. Icy air blasted into the cabin, the cold biting her cheeks.

He helped her out of the Piper and indicated the private airport's terminal as Blake jumped down behind her. "I'll get the keys to the car. Stay out of sight."

Rich headed toward the building no larger than a double-wide. Amanda shivered as a wicked gust of wind slapped against her. She tugged at the edges of her flimsy coat. It was like she'd never left Austin. Yet so much had happened.

Blake reached into the airplane and pulled out a down jacket. He handed it to her. "Put this on. It's a gift."

She took the coat. The soft down beckoned her. She slipped her arms into the large jacket. She hated the idea of charity, but the weather had become too vicious to be anything but thankful. Before she could zip the coat, Blake brushed her hands away and quickly fastened the front. He fished a pair of gloves from the pockets and slipped them on her hands, lingering before he squeezed gently. "You can't afford to come down with pneumonia," he said, his voice husky.

She looked from the warm gloves to his reserved stare. Tension emanated from him, his expression carved in stone, set and intent, and yet he focused on her comfort and warmth, his actions tender and caring.

He tried to release her, but she refused to let his hands go. She held fast and looked up at him. "I'm sorry about your deputy."