Cowboy In The Crossfire(58)

Blake wanted to rip the guy's arm off, but there were too many guns pointed at Amanda and Ethan.

"I'll do the same to your mom right now if you don't tell me the password."

Ethan's eyes widened, and he started crying.

"The kid is five," Blake snapped. "He doesn't know what a password is."

"You get him to tell me, or I kill you one at a time. Starting with her."

Relieved at the excuse to get closer to Ethan, Blake nodded and walked across to them. He'd be close enough to shield them with his body if bullets started flying.

He knelt in front of Ethan. The boy trembled and his eyes were glazed over. "It's okay, Ethan. It'll be okay. What did Vince say to you before he died?"

Ethan looked at his mother, then at Blake.

"Do you trust me, Ethan?" Blake asked softly.

"Joey's in the clouds," the boy muttered.

"Who's Joey?" Irving snapped.

"Don't you remember? He was my son. You murdered him."

At those words, at least a dozen men streamed into the warehouse. Blake clutched Ethan in one arm and bounded toward Amanda, knocking her from the chair protecting them with his body. The table clattered and the Colt .45 tumbled to the floor.

Shots rang out in the small warehouse. Ethan and Amanda huddled beneath him. Blake raised his head scanning the room, his entire body tense. He reached for the Colt.

A flash of heat scorched his shoulder, but he ignored the pain. At least his arm hadn't gone numb. Making sure Ethan and Amanda weren't in a line of sight, he gripped the butt of the gun.

Irving cursed and dived toward them, gun drawn.

Blake raised his granddad's Colt. He took aim at the traitor's eyes and pulled the trigger.

*

THE WAREHOUSE SWARMED with men. Amanda stared at what was left of Irving--the evil man responsible for so many deaths. His brains spilled onto the concrete floor. She shifted Ethan's face away from the gore. Irving had deserved the undignified death.

Blake's weight rested on top of her, warm and comforting and very heavy. "Is it safe?" she asked.

"Maybe," Blake said.

She pushed at his shoulder a bit, and he groaned, shifting off her.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Ethan whimpered and stuck his hand up to her face. "Blood, Mommy."

She gasped. "We need a doctor!"

"Not me, Mommy," Ethan said, tears streaming down his face. "Sheriff Blake. He got shot like Uncle Vince."

Blood seeped through Blake's shirt, and her heart sank. She reached out a shaking hand. "What did you do, Blake Redmond?"

He shrugged and couldn't hide the wince, but that didn't stop him from tugging Ethan onto his lap. "I'm not going to die, son. It's just a scratch." He brushed back the boy's hair. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

Ethan shoved up his sleeve. "I fell down. I got a scratch, too."

Blake made a show of checking out Ethan's skinned elbow.

A paramedic ran to them, took one look at Blake's shoulder and kneeled down. "The boy comes first," Blake said, his face harsh.

The EMT didn't argue. Amanda wouldn't have, either. The man certainly got what he wanted when he turned into the great stone face. After checking out Ethan, the paramedic pulled out a pair of scissors and turned to Blake. "You're still bleeding," the man muttered. "You need stitches."

"Later. I have some business to take care of."

Amanda hovered near Blake, holding Ethan in her lap. Even though he squirmed, he didn't want to leave her side. She didn't intend to let him out of her sight for a very long time.

Irving's body had been carted off, and several others were led away. Half the men were in uniforms and the other half weren't.

"Can we trust them?" she whispered to Blake.

"No," he said. "A lot of answers died with Irving."

His face intent, he studied the room even as he held her hand, his thumb caressing her palm.

"Are we still in danger?" She clutched his hand and pulled Ethan closer.

Blake tugged the knife from his boot. "I'm not taking chances. Rafe's covering us."

She turned her head, and noticed the man, silent, holding his weapon at the ready.

Ethan looked up at Blake in awe. "You made the bad man with the boots go away," he said. "Uncle Vince said you would."

Blake ruffled his hair. "You were very brave, Ethan. I'm proud of you."

Ethan's chest puffed out, and Amanda's heart warmed, even as uncertainty shifted through her. What would happen now?

How long would they have to be on guard? Would Blake want to be a part of their lives when her family--her, Ethan and Vince--had cost Blake his family?

She rubbed her eyes. She loved Blake. As she watched him with Ethan, she recognized she'd never felt this kind of trust. Before, she'd never felt certain of anyone or anything. But she could count on Blake. Through the best and the worst. Through anything.

Ethan tugged on Blake's shirt. "Are we going to stay with you?" he asked.

Blake stilled and his face took on a cautious expression. "I think I'd like that, Ethan." He glanced at Amanda. "I guess it's up to your mother."