Home For a Cowboy Christmas(58)

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“Noooooooo!” Emmy screamed. She didn’t know if Dwight had been hit or not, but the assassin had shot at him.

She reached for the door handle to open it when the man was suddenly back in the truck with the gun pointed at her.

“You have no idea what I’ve gone through to find you,” he told her.

She looked into his dark, dead eyes. He wasn’t at all what she thought a hitman should look like. If she saw him on the street, she would think he worked at a library or something. He had an unassuming appearance—the kind that people forgot. Which, she supposed, was what made him so good at his job.

“I told you I’d go quietly if you left Dwight alone,” she said, not hiding her fury.

He shrugged. “So?”

“You didn’t have to shoot at him.”

The man smiled, a cold, calculating grin that made a chill crawl down her back. “Consider it compensation for the killing of Joe’s cousin and my time.”

“Joe’s cousin?” Emmy asked in confusion.

“The man at your hotel room. The one the marshal shot? That was Joe’s cousin.”

“How was I supposed to know that? And how is that even my fault? I didn’t pull the trigger.”

Stony dark eyes regarded her. “The minute you went to the DA, everything became your fault. Now, get your fucking hands off the door and onto the steering wheel. Your friend is dead. Just as you’re about to be.”



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By the ice on his eyebrows and the hair sticking out of his beanie, she realized that he was cold and wanted an easy way back to his vehicle. His mistake had been putting her behind the wheel and killing Dwight. She had nothing to lose now. Nothing except getting to someone to notify them about Dwight. There was still the possibility that he was alive, a chance that someone could save him. But they had to know about his injury first.

“Then finish me now.” She had no idea where the courage came from. That was a lie. She did. It was the fury at Dwight’s possible death. She had feared this moment, but now that it was here, she didn’t care. All she wanted was to make sure Dwight got medical attention if he was still alive.

The man chuckled. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Your time is coming. Right now, you’re going to drive me.”

She’d been contemplating whether she could put the truck in drive before he pulled the trigger. Now, he was giving her what she wanted. “Why?”

He raised the gun, his face going taciturn. “Drive, bitch.”

She lifted her chin and faced forward before putting the truck in gear. Emmy knew snow, but she had never driven off-road before, and that’s exactly what Dwight had done to bring them here. She also had no idea which way it was back to the ranch. On the one hand, that was bad for Dwight. On the other, it meant that the hitman might just freeze to death—if she made sure he couldn’t drive the truck.

An idea began forming as she slowly pressed the accelerator to move the vehicle forward. She managed to turn the truck around without hitting anything. She saw a flash of dark fur in the headlights. She smiled because she knew it was Sam. A glance showed that her captor hadn’t noticed. Sam would stay with Dwight until she could send help.

And she would send help.

The man she loved was out there, possibly shot. She wouldn’t entertain the other option. No matter what the hitman told her. Until she saw Dwight’s body, she would keep hope in her heart.

“Joe wanted to come see you die.”

Emmy didn’t bother to comment. Though, she wasn’t surprised by the statement. Joe’s ego was massive. The fact that someone he had brought into his inner circle had turned on him was too much. He wanted revenge. Having her killed wasn’t enough. He needed to witness it.

“I’ve got to hand it to you and the marshal,” the assassin continued. “This was a great place to hide out. The only problem was the small town. Everyone talks. It’s just a matter of being at the right place at the right time to overhear the right bit of conversation.”

So, that’s how he’d found her. It didn’t matter anymore. Her worst fear had arrived. She’d known all along that she would never make it to the trial. She mourned the loss of a life with Dwight, of being loved and of loving him. She also hated that Joe would get away with his crimes because no one else could testify against him.

But the fear that had sunk its claws into her for weeks was gone, replaced by determination and fortitude. Death no longer made her panic. Everyone died. It was how she would die that terrified her. At least, it used to. Knowing that death was upon her now, that she wouldn’t live to see the next sunrise, made a calm settle over her.

It was the weirdest feeling. Somehow, she knew she wouldn’t have such emotions if she hadn’t fallen in love with Dwight. He was all that mattered now. If her last effort saved him, then she could die happy. Her only regret would be not telling him about her love.

“Do you know where you’re going?”

Emmy barely held back the snort. It was something the asshole should’ve asked before he’d told her to drive. “Of course,” she lied. “I’ve been out here with Dwight every day since I arrived. I never left his side.”

“A fat lot of good that did you,” the hitman stated with a spiteful grin.