Rustling Up Trouble. Delores Fossen

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      Another gunman, too.

      No. Not this. If all Hades was going to break loose, why not wait until she had backup?

      The shooter’s partner ducked out from cover just a few yards from Blue and pulled the trigger. That one clipped the boulder at just the right angle to send some rock chips flying right at Blue. Rayanne got just a glimpse of the blood from the nicks those rocks caused before more shots came.

      Sweet heaven. She couldn’t just stand by and let this happen. Rayanne scrambled into the dry spring bed, keeping as low as she could, but she lifted her head just enough so she could take aim at the marine-sized guy.

      She fired.

      And missed, but it got his attention, all right.

      Blue’s, too.

      He cursed at her. “Get down!” Blue yelled.

      Rayanne had no choice but to do just that when the gunman sent a shot her way. Too close. Ditto for the one he aimed at Blue.

      She fired back but didn’t wait to see if she’d hit one of them. Then she scrambled down the spring bed, making her way to the boulders that Blue was using for cover.

      “What part of get down didn’t you understand?” Blue snarled.

      No greeting, no explanation as to why he was on her family’s ranch with gunmen after him.

      Just that barked question.

      Thankfully, his attention didn’t go in the direction of her stomach, because it wasn’t a good time to have to explain the small baby bump that she had hopefully hidden enough with her bulky jacket.

      “I’m the one with a badge,” Rayanne snarled back. “So if anyone should be staying down, it’s you. Plus, you lost your right to give me any kind of advice when you disappeared without so much as a word.”

      Yeah, the timing for those words sucked, but Rayanne couldn’t stop herself. Blue had crushed her, and it was hard to fight back all those emotions.

      “You want to save your girl, McCurdy?” the man yelled. “Then both of you put down your guns and come with us so we can talk.”

      Rayanne clamped her hand over Blue’s arm in case he intended to fall for that. Clearly these fools didn’t have talking in mind. But Blue didn’t move. He only glanced down at where she had hold of him. His long-sleeve black shirt was between her hand and his skin, but she could have sworn she felt every inch of him.

      Every inch.

      And she cursed her body’s reaction again, along with jerking back her hand. Definitely not the time for those memories to rear their ugly, hot little heads.

      “Time’s up, McCurdy,” the man added. “Come out now or you die.”

      The last word of that threat had barely left his mouth when the shots started again. This time it was Blue who did the clamping. He took her by the shoulder and pushed her to the ground. Her mouth landed right in the dirt and blades of grass that hadn’t already been stomped down.

      Rayanne didn’t stay down, though. She wasn’t sure why Blue was suddenly playing cowboy-in-shining-armor, but she wasn’t having any part of it.

      “Please tell me these bad guys are really bad,” she said, levering herself up just enough to get off a shot. “Bad as in worse than you and that this isn’t some botched attempt to arrest you.”

      His gaze cut to her, and those gunmetal-blue eyes narrowed. “No one’s as bad as I am.”

      He paused as if waiting for her to agree or disagree. She didn’t do either, but a comment like that definitely fell into the agreement category. Of course, she’d known Blue was a bad boy before she landed in bed with him, so it shouldn’t have surprised her that he’d continued his bad-boy ways.

      “If you’re asking if they’re the law,” he added, “they aren’t.”

      Rayanne almost pressed him for more about why they were after him, but it’d have to wait. The directions of the shots changed, and it wasn’t a good change, either. The two gunmen appeared to be moving away from each other and closing in on Blue and her.

      Blue glanced at her again. “You take the one on the right. I’ll get the one on the left.”

      Just on principle, she hated taking orders from Blue, but it was a decent plan considering their position. Rayanne waited, listened, and when she thought she had a good pinpoint on the shooter, she leaned out and fired. Beside her, Blue did the same.

      Rayanne heard the two sounds almost simultaneously. The thud of the bullet and a groan of pain. But it wasn’t her shot that’d caused those sounds.

      It was Blue’s.

      He’d hit his target, but judging from the way the bullets kept coming, she’d missed hers.

      The man who’d done all the shouting started to curse, and she tried to follow the sound of his ripe profanity. It was hard to tell where he was as he darted through the woods toward his partner, who was either injured or dead. Rayanne was hoping it was the latter because she didn’t want to battle a riled, injured would-be killer.

      She leaned out from the rocks again, aiming her gun at the sound of the movement and the footsteps. But another shot came their way.

      Mercy.

      Not from one of the two gunmen but from another direction. To their far left.

      Rayanne pivoted toward the newcomer and fired. This time she didn’t miss, but again she couldn’t tell if the man was just injured or dead, because the shots from the other gunmen drowned out any telltale sounds.

      But there was no mistaking one sound.

      Even over the blasts and her own heartbeat crashing in her ears, she heard—and felt—one of those bullets. It didn’t slam into her.

      It hit Blue.

      And it didn’t just hit him. It tore off a chunk of rock that smacked against his left temple. She knew the exact second of impact from both the bullet and the rock. Blue groaned in pain.

      And Rayanne could only watch as he collapsed against her.

      She didn’t look at him. Was too afraid of what she might see. Besides, she had to deal with the person who’d fired that shot.

      The anger slammed into her, along with the fear she had for the baby. She tried to shut out all thoughts when she took aim. However, she didn’t get a chance to fire. That was because the moron stopped shooting and started running.

      Escaping.

      Rayanne nearly bolted after him, but then she looked down at Blue. Unconscious. He was breathing, sucking in shallow breaths, and there wasn’t a drop of color in Blue’s face.

      But there was color everywhere else. Lots of it.

      From his blood spilling onto her.

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