Cowboy in the Crossfire

At the soft click of the door, Blake sighed. He could still feel the imprint of her body against his. She might act brave, but she’d clung to him, and in doing so she’d ignited desire in his gut. A flame he’d thought had been doused for good. Apparently he’d been mistaken.

Pushing the tempting thoughts aside, Blake grabbed a cup of coffee and walked to his office. An internet search on Vince was definitely in order. Blake had been blinded by his anger toward his ex-partner, but he couldn’t deny the truth of the current situation. Vince was dead. Amanda had been shot. Her son was at risk. Cops were involved, and not in a good way.

He wouldn’t let her vanish with all those nonanswers she’d tried to pass off. He had his own unfinished business in Austin. If Vince had sent Amanda to him, there had to be a connection between the attack and his being drummed out of the Austin Police Department. Somewhere deep inside, he still wanted to believe he hadn’t been completely wrong about Vince.

Blake booted the computer and typed his ex-partner’s name into the search engine. He would discover the truth and protect Amanda and her son, whether she wanted his help or not.

* * *

AMANDA WOKE TO SUNLIGHT streaming through the slats in the room where Blake had bandaged her, not on the floor next to Ethan. She remembered shivering beside her son’s bed, knowing she couldn’t leave him alone except to throw his blood-soaked jeans in the washer. He’d hardly had any sleep since they left Austin. Each time she’d thought he’d rest for more than an hour, he’d jerked awake, screaming for Vince. Begging the bad cop to go away.

That’s how she’d learned what really happened. That’s why she’d veered from a trip to the hospital. She’d pressed her son to tell her more, but Ethan refused to say a word about what he’d seen. Except in his dreams.

And last night she hadn’t been there for him.

She covered her eyes with her forearm. Blake must have moved her last night. But what about Ethan? She lay there for a few seconds, listening for his cries.

Not a sound.

She didn’t like the quiet. Not one bit.

Amanda threw off the blankets piled on top of her and tried to sit up. Pain stabbed at her side. She groaned but didn’t surrender to it. She could handle anything as long as she knew Ethan was safe. Holding her torso stiff, she opened her bedroom door and hurried into the next room, her bare feet cold on the hardwood floors.

Amanda nearly tripped over a rocking chair that hadn’t been in the room last night. Ethan’s clean jeans were folded neatly on the dresser. An afghan was placed in perfect order on the seat. A coffee cup sat on a coaster near the chair. Ethan lay huddled beneath a thick quilt.

He was safe. And asleep.

He clutched a small, much-worn teddy bear in the crook of his arm. Amanda blinked away tears at the sight of her son clinging to the toy. They’d had no time to bring anything with them. She’d taken him away from everything he knew and loved. And Blake had provided Ethan a small bit of childhood to hold.

She had no doubt Blake had watched over Ethan after putting her to bed last night. The nightmares must have come. Again.

And she hadn’t heard them. Blake had.

Slowly, she walked back to her bedroom to dress. God, how had this happened? All she’d wanted for Ethan was a good life, for him to feel safe and protected.

She wished she could ask Blake for help. Her heart had gone pitter-patter the few times he’d smiled. When he’d held her in his arms last night, he’d made her feel small, but not vulnerable. Only protected. For a second, she’d wanted to lean her head against him and forget the danger. But she had no choice. She had to hide the car she’d stolen and vanish under the radar. She couldn’t ask a sheriff to break the law for her. Especially one who had been through what Blake had.

Amanda left the bedroom and headed toward the kitchen. Keeping as quiet as possible, she opened the door and stepped onto the porch. The sun’s brightness made the ice sparkle like glistening diamonds. The place looked like a winter wonderland. One thing about West Texas, if you wanted the weather to change, all you had to do was wait a minute.

The ditch to her right wasn’t deep, but last night it might just as well have been the Grand Canyon. She shivered. She could have easily frozen to death.

She followed the line of the driveway as it curved in front of the small barn. Where had the car landed? She remembered hitting the brakes and skidding. Then little else. Shoving her hands into her pockets, Amanda crossed the yard and stared in disbelief at the scars marring the ice-covered snow on the road.

The car was gone.

She whirled around and ran into a wall of muscle.

Blake clasped her shoulders to steady her. “In a hurry?”

“Where’s the car?” Oh, God. That beat-up station wagon was the only way out of town and into oblivion. Her hands trembled. Her money. The gun. Gone.

“Amanda.” Blake shook her gently. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Where. Is. The. Car?” She tried to keep the panic out of her voice, but she couldn’t stop it from quivering.

“Scooter towed it to his garage. It’s probably totaled.”

“This can’t be happening.” Amanda’s legs wobbled beneath her. What was she going to do? “Please tell me it’s drivable.”

“Your suspension is damaged. The tire was practically bent underneath.”

“How much to fix it?”

“At least a thousand. Maybe more.”

Amanda swayed. She could have crumpled into a heap on the snow and cried. She needed that car. But she had only a couple hundred in her purse.

Her purse. Her ID. Panic vibrated through her body. She had a vague memory of grabbing the bag as she stumbled out of the car, but had she? If the Austin cops found the car… “I’ve got to get Ethan. We have to go.”

She started to run to the house, but her feet slipped on the ice, and she landed hard on her backside. The fall jarred her ribs. Fire seared through her. She doubled over and clutched at the wound, rocking to and fro. She couldn’t stop the moans.

How could she protect her son like this?

Blake knelt beside her and pulled her into his arms. “Whoa, there. Take it easy. You’re trying to foul up my bandage again.”

She shoved herself to her feet, barely able to stand the burning at her side. She teetered, fighting against the spots dancing in front of her eyes. She couldn’t pass out. “We have to disappear. He’ll find us.”

“Who’s looking for you, Amanda?” He clasped her arms and spun her around to face him, his Stetson not shielding the intensity of his gaze.

“I don’t know. And that’s no lie. Some guy outside Vince’s house shot me. He came after us. He won’t stop. I know it. I have to get us out of here.”

“I did a little research. There’s no news of Vince being killed. Anywhere.”

Amanda dug her fingers into Blake’s arm. “Please tell me you didn’t call Austin.”

Before he could answer, she wrenched away, struggled up the front steps and stumbled through the door. Blake followed, hovering beside her like an overprotective guardian. She knew he wouldn’t give up, but he’d have to. She’d beg, borrow or steal some money. Pay him back later. Somehow. Ethan’s room drew her gaze. The door stood open.

Her son hadn’t made a move without her since Vince’s death. What if the killer had found them? What if he’d taken her son?

She ran across the hardwood floor and rushed into the bedroom. Empty. “Ethan!”

Fear laced her voice. She whirled around, shoved open the closet.

No Ethan. “Where is he?” She searched the bathroom. Behind the shower curtain. Nothing.

“Oh, God, Blake. Where’s Ethan?”

Blake didn’t respond. She looked over her shoulder. He stood frozen, staring at a cracked-open entrance to a room down the hall. His face turned white. “No.”

Blake burst into a run and slammed open the oak door against the wall. Amanda ran into his back.

“What are you doing?” Blake’s voice boomed. “No one goes in here.”

Ethan froze, the bright yellow dump truck in his hand rolling to a stop. Amanda placed herself between Ethan and a livid Blake. She’d never seen him like this.

“You…you can’t play with that.” Agony carved into each line of his face, he sidestepped Amanda and took the truck from Ethan.

Terror painted her son’s expression. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He ran to Amanda and threw himself against her.

She winced as he hit her side, but banished the waves of pain, focused solely on Ethan. “Shh, honey. Mommy’s here.” Worry vanished. She glared at Blake. “What are you trying to do? Scare him to death?”

Blake’s wild-eyed gaze darted around the room before slowly clearing. He stared at the dog, who cowered in the corner, at Amanda holding her son. His throat spasmed. He thrust a shaking hand through his hair. “Oh, my God. I—”

The torment on Blake’s face shattered her.

He stared down at the floor behind her. She followed his gaze. A cardboard box in the middle of the floor. The name Joey in large bold letters on its side. And she understood. His son’s toys. And from the look of dust covering the furniture, the door hadn’t been opened since Blake had moved here.

A twin bed with a football bedspread lay untouched, waiting for someone.

The room was a shrine.

“Blake—”

His distraught stare met hers. “I’m…sorry. I haven’t been in here since—” His voice trailed off. He turned and slowly walked out. His shoulders slumped, as if his soul had broken in two.

She stared after him. Her heart shattered at the devastation and loss on his face. Her eyes stung at the defeated picture of his leaving the room.

She rubbed her face. What had she done? Ethan was close to Joey’s age when he’d been killed. She hadn’t considered how hard this would be for Blake. The painful memories Ethan would trigger. She’d never wanted to hurt Blake. She’d never knowingly have done that.

Blake’s steps faded, and Amanda knelt down on the floor, needing to touch Ethan, to remind herself he was alive and here. She pulled him into her lap and cupped his face. She pushed back the hair falling on his forehead. What if she’d lost her son as Blake had lost his? Would she survive?

Ethan’s face scrunched up. “I didn’t mean to do anything bad.”

“I know, honey, I know. What made you come in here?”

“Just looking. Sheriff Blake found the bear in a box in my closet. I saw all the stuff in here…” His voice trailed off.

Amanda studied the boxes in the room, brand-new with shipping labels still intact. Left here to wait. For a boy to play with them. A boy who never came.

Until yesterday. Until Ethan.

“You wanted more toys?”

He nodded, his expression full of chagrin. “I just wanted to play. I didn’t mean to make him mad.”

Struggling to keep the pain she felt for Blake off her face, she kissed her son’s forehead, her resolve to protect him that much stronger. “He wasn’t mad. Just surprised.” She pushed back on her heels. “Why don’t you play in your room for a while, and I’ll talk to Blake.”

A gruff throat clearing from the doorway drew her gaze. Blake’s eyes looked bloodshot, but he forced a smile on his face and knelt down.

“I’m sorry, Ethan. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

With a shaking hand, Blake passed the yellow truck to her son. “This was my little boy, Joey’s, favorite toy. I think he’d like you to have it.”

“Joey?” Ethan’s face screwed up in thought. “Uncle Vince said Joey’s in the clouds.”

Blake’s jaw throbbed with the struggle to keep himself in check. He nodded.

“I wish he was here,” Ethan said.

“So do I.”

Amanda could see Blake was close to the breaking point. “How about I cook everyone breakfast?” she said brightly.

“Bacon?” Ethan asked, the word cautious and hopeful.

She looked at Blake. He gave a slight nod, his expression haunted.

“Sounds good, sweetie. You go play in the living room.”

Ethan walked to the door. He paused and turned to Blake. “I wish you had a green tractor like my friend Billy, only little, but I’ll take good care of the truck. I promise.”

“Thank you,” Blake said softly. He reached out to Ethan, but then pulled his hand back.

Ethan hugged the yellow toy to his body and disappeared into the hallway.

Amanda turned to Blake. “I’m—”

“Don’t. I shouldn’t have yelled. It won’t happen again.”

“You made it okay. That truck means more than you know. He bonded with one of the construction workers who took him for a ride on a green tractor.” Hesitantly, she stepped toward him. “Blake, I just wanted to say I can tell you were a wonderful father. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Yeah.” He backed away and tugged at the football bedspread, his look bleak. “This was my room when I was a kid. Mom and Dad had it ready for Joey whenever he visited. They’d updated everything right before…” Blake’s voice trailed off. “He never…”

She crossed toward him and soothed him with a tentative touch. When Blake didn’t pull away, she squeezed his solid arm and looked at him, her eyes burning, his face swimming as she gazed at him through her tears. “I saw you with Joey. I came to you because I knew if anything happened to me, you’d protect Ethan.” She bit her lip. “You’re the only person I can say that about.”

His hand covered hers. “If you’ll trust me, Amanda, I can help.” He cleared his throat. “I promise to protect you and your son.”

“I know. You’re one of the few people who can understand what I’m facing now.” She studied the strain behind his eyes, the tightness of his mouth. “Help me disappear. It’s what Vince would’ve wanted.”

Blake stiffened and removed her hand from his arm. “Don’t mention his name, Amanda.”

Fool. Why had she said that? She had to make him appreciate what was at stake. Amanda closed her eyes. Should she tell him? Was it the only way to make him understand? The only way to convince him to help her vanish?

She drew in a slow, deep breath and lifted her chin, praying for courage, hoping she was doing the right thing. “You have to listen to me, Blake.”

He shot her a skeptical look. She could tell he was ready to turn away.

“Vince was devastated when we heard the news about Kathy and Joey,” she rushed. “You didn’t see what it did to him. He changed. He avoided me and Ethan. I didn’t know why.”

“Showing his true colors.” Blake bit out the words through clenched teeth.

“He loved Ethan. I spent eighteen hours in that car trying to figure out why Vince acted the way he did. And why he was murdered. I realized ever since Joey was killed, Vince has been hiding something. From me, from you, from everyone.”

“The fact that he was a cop on the take?”

“No! When I was forced to move in with him because of the debts Carl had racked up, Vince was furious, even though he’d made the offer the year before. He wanted me out of the house fast, but he also made me take self-defense classes. He taught me escape routes. I thought he wanted me safe from Carl. Now I recognize Vince knew it was dangerous for us to be with him. Not because of my ex, but because of the men you suspected.”

“At least he had some sense of honor and responsibility.”

Amanda ignored the bitterness in Blake’s voice. “Vince said you’d been through enough. That you’d already paid too high a price for being a good cop.” Her eyes burned with compassion. “I don’t think he was talking about losing your job.”

He froze and clasped her by the shoulders. “What are you saying?”

She wrapped her arms around her body. “If you don’t let Ethan and me go, I’m certain we’ll have an ‘accident,’ too.” Amanda paused. “Like Kathy and Joey.”

Blake’s expression turned deadly, his eyes narrowed and cold. “Are you telling me Kathy and Joey’s car wreck wasn’t an accident?”

“I don’t have proof, but I can’t take the chance. I’m desperate. Ethan saw the killer. He’s gone after us once. We have to leave before anyone else dies.”

His face had gone gray as death. He reeled from her and sank into Joey’s bed, staring up at her. “They were murdered?”

Chapter Three

“We’ve got a problem with the sister and the kid.”

The words spoken through the lieutenant’s prepaid cell phone made him frown. He rose from his desk and shoved his arms into his old leather jacket, irritated he couldn’t wear the winter coat that cost more than his colleagues made in a year. Maybe two. These days, though, he couldn’t be too careful. He exited the police station and rounded a corner. Damn it all. His entire setup was imploding. Millions of dollars still to be had and Vince had ruined everything.

“Talk.”

“The car she ripped off just popped up on a plate check.” The man at the other end paused. “In Carder, Texas.”

The lieutenant punched the brick wall of the station. “I knew that bastard Vince was working with Blake all along. I should’ve killed them both.”

Redmond had been too goody-goody to make it in the big city. He’d never understood how to the play the game.

He’d talked too much, though. Enough that a convenient accident to the whistle-blowing cop would’ve started an investigation. Until his family had been killed—accidentally, of course. Still, it had taken his father’s death—accidental, of course—for Blake to drop everything, pack his bags and crawl back to the Podunk town where he belonged.

The lieutenant frowned. Convenient. Well-planned. But stupid. Well, mistakes could be rectified and learned from. “Get to Carder. Vince must have sent the evidence there. Find it, then kill them. I want Vince’s family eliminated, and I want Blake Redmond silenced once and for all.”

A slight pause over the phone spoke volumes.

“You have a problem with that?”

“Even the boy?”

The tentative voice set his teeth on edge. Was the man getting squeamish?

“Especially the boy. He’s the only witness. If you don’t want to end up in jail with some of the perps you put there, do the job right.”

“Hey, Lieutenant.”

He glanced up at a cheerful greeting and waved at the cop moving past the alley before returning to the conversation. “Any questions?”

“No, sir.”

“Johnson? Be smart. You screw this up, you’ll end up worse than Redmond. You’ll know why your family died.”

* * *

BLAKE’S KNEES GAVE WAY. He dropped to the bed Joey had never slept in. He couldn’t think, couldn’t process. His thoughts whirled and his hands shook. Not with fear, with fury. Could Kathy and Joey really have been murdered? Because of his questions, his investigation?

The truth exploded into rage. He’d wanted to be a cop all his life. Justice. Duty. Honor. He’d believed in the hype. He’d lived it. It was in his blood. Could his son have died because of the life Blake had chosen?

More than that. If Amanda was right, his partner had known. Vince, Blake’s so-called best friend, had known—or at least suspected—what had happened. He’d let Blake come back to Carder unaware, let those murderers run free.

Bastard.

Every instinct screamed at Blake to hightail it to Austin and rip apart his old police command center until he learned the truth. If they’d killed Kathy and Joey, he’d make whoever was involved pay. No matter the cost.

“Blake?”

He looked up at Amanda. Her voice quivered. Her deep blue eyes were filled with concern, pity…and something else. Fear?

He averted his gaze and stared down at his hands. His knuckles were white. His fists trembled as wrath consumed him. He wanted to yell and scream, release the overwhelming anger that shook his soul.

“Vroom.”

The small rumbling sound filtered from the other room. Ethan. Blake blinked. He couldn’t scare the boy again. Control. He had to regain control. He took a long, shuddering breath. Then another.

The police radio squawked to life from the other room. “Blake, it’s Parris. That car Scooter towed. I just ran the plates. It was stolen.”

The words wrenched Blake out of the quicksand of emotions he’d been sinking into. He rose from Joey’s bed and looked at Amanda in disbelief. Her face paled. In guilt.

Unbelievable.

Helping her just got a lot more complicated.

He crossed the floor to her. “Grand theft auto? A felony? What were you thinking? When you took that car, you tied my hands.”

“Why’d your deputy have to run the plates? You ruined everything.”

“Don’t put this on me. As far as Parris understood, the vehicle was abandoned. Standard procedure.”

“And you’re just so danged efficient here in Carder, huh?”

Blake shoved his hand through his hair. She’d broken the law, even though she’d had a damn good reason. He enforced the law, but justice was supposed to be black and white. There were too many blasted shades of gray here. He hated the gray.

She didn’t back away but met his gaze. “Oh yeah, making life harder for you is just what I planned. The guy who shot me was chasing us. He knew the make, model and plates. The bullet holes and busted windows were a dead giveaway. I had to take that car. What was I supposed to do? Call the cops?”

He understood. She didn’t know who she could trust in Austin. He didn’t, either. Blake cursed. She should have trusted him, though. She should have told him the truth the moment she regained consciousness.

He needed time to think. He couldn’t pull in his staff or state contacts. He stalked into the living room, picked up the receiver and pressed the button.

She raced after him and gripped his arm. “Please,” she whispered.

He glared at her. Damn her for believing he’d put her or Ethan at risk.

“Got the message, Parris. I’ll get back to you. Redmond out.” With a quick flick he turned down the volume on the receiver and faced Amanda. “You’ve put me in a tough spot.”

“I know I can’t stay here,” she said. “With the plates on record, it’s only a matter of time before they find us. Please, Blake, forget you ever saw us. Let me disappear.”

Anxiety coated her face and radiated from her voice. Her entire body tensed. She was ready to run. He hated the look, the sound of her fear. Hated Vince for pulling her into his mess, and that the man responsible wasn’t around to point the finger at the bad guys.

“Austin is five hours away—in good weather. Get Ethan some breakfast, and we’ll come up with a plan.”

“But—” She hesitated, a furtive glance toward the outside door, then the kitchen.

He sighed and placed his hands on her slight shoulders, resisting the urge to pull her against him, to comfort her…to lose himself in her touch. He buried the yearning. “Give me time to figure out how to help you without us all ending up in jail.”

He waited, half expecting her to challenge him again. Her questioning blue gaze studied him, as if she were trying to read his heart. He didn’t want her to look too closely. She’d shaken him to the core with her suspicions about his family’s death. He may very well have failed them in more ways than he’d ever imagined.

He couldn’t fail her and Ethan, too. He wouldn’t.

With a light touch of her hand on his arm, she nodded, called out to Ethan and led him, still clutching the toy truck, into the kitchen. At least occasionally she knew when not to push.

Blake shrugged into his shearling coat and tugged down his Stetson, ignoring the fresh wave of grief that threatened to wash over him. He’d survived Joey’s death knowing that accidents happen. But murder… Blake shoved the thought away. One fact remained: Amanda had been shot. She and Ethan were terrified.

He couldn’t let himself get distracted. Not now.

Leo sat near the kitchen door, watching him. He detoured and grabbed his weapon as the crackle of frying bacon filtered through his house. Almost made the place homey, but Blake couldn’t indulge in that dream.

He poked his head into the kitchen. “I’ll be in the barn,” he said, ignoring the familial picture of Amanda at the stove, Ethan playing at her feet. “I’ve turned on the intercom. It’s voice-activated, so I’ll hear you if you need me.”