Cowboy In The Crossfire. Robin Perini

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СКАЧАТЬ he was here now. For Amanda. He ripped off her gloves and clasped her hands. Ice-cold. No way could he warm her in these wet clothes. He unzipped her insubstantial coat. The right side of her shirt was soaked in blood.

      “What the hell?”

      He pushed the denim aside and stared at the injury just below and outside the soft curve of her left breast. He recognized a gunshot wound when he saw one.

      Blake grabbed a clean dish towel from the kitchen and pressed it to the gash, causing Amanda to moan. “Get your coat on, kid. We’re taking your mom to the doctor.” One look out the window told him the ride would be an interesting trip. The visibility had deteriorated even more in the last few minutes. “Hopefully I’ll get us to the hospital in one piece.”

      Amanda stirred restlessly on the couch.

      He nabbed the microphone from the sofa table. “Parris, this is Blake.” The static from the line shattered the night. “Deputy, you there?”

      Amanda tugged at his arm with a weak but desperate grip. “No hospital,” she whispered. “Hide us. Please. Or we’re dead.”

      The stark words ricocheted through Blake as she struggled to sit, then collapsed in his arms. He eased her down, and pushed back the curls surrounding her face. She was hurt, and vulnerable, and she couldn’t tell him why. What had she gotten herself into that she’d risk her life to stay hidden?

      He glanced at Ethan. With the gunshot wound, Blake had to give her the benefit of the doubt. If she was telling the truth, he refused to put the boy’s life in jeopardy.

      “Sheriff? You heading out on patrol?” The ghost of a voice broke through the crackling radio.

      “Not yet. Parris, let me know if you or Smithson see any strangers wandering the town. I’ll get back to you.”

      He knelt next to the sofa and studied his unexpected visitor. Amanda had changed in the last six months. Thinner, her skin nearly translucent. Circles beneath her eyes, but still so beautiful, he had to remind himself to breathe. She’d obviously been through hell. Blake motioned to the boy whose eyes had grown wide and fear-filled. “Ethan? How did your mom get hurt?”

      The boy looked at his unconscious mother and shook his head. “I promised I wouldn’t tell.”

      Secrets. They burned Blake’s gut. He’d experienced too many in Austin. At the same time, he admired Amanda’s kid. Blake recognized Ethan’s terror from his trembling hands. The boy wanted to cry but bit down on his lip, fighting against the panic. Amanda’s son showed more courage in that moment than most grown men Blake had witnessed facing a gun on the streets.

      He crouched so he was eye to eye with the boy. “Promises are important, but your mom came to me for help. I’m one of the good guys, remember?”

      Ethan simply stared at Blake, his eyes too suspicious for a boy of five. “Mommy?” His tentative hand tugged at his mother’s sleeve.

      “She’s hurt, Ethan. But she doesn’t want to go to the doctor. I need to know what happened. I want to make her well.”

      The boy shifted back and forth, stared at his unconscious mother, then back at Blake. He lifted his chin and met Blake’s gaze. “A bad man tried to hurt us. Mommy saved me.”

      * * *

      THE BED WAS SOFT, the room dark except for a small night-light. Amanda felt warm for the first time in hours. She must be dead. There didn’t seem to be any other explanation.

      She shifted. Her flesh burned like fire. This definitely wasn’t heaven.

      Reality came flooding back.

      Vince. Ethan.

      She tried to sit up, but a sharp, blazing pain pierced her side. She fell back with a groan.

      “Not a good move, considering you tried to stop a bullet with your body.”

      She’d recognize the soft drawl of that voice anywhere.

      Blake Redmond.

      She scanned up from his worn cowboy boots, past his corduroys to a dark green sweater that emphasized the flecks of jade and gold in his glittering eyes. She’d expected the typical tan sheriff’s uniform at least. Still, she could see he was no longer a big-city Austin cop. All he needed was a cowboy hat to complete the picture of a small-town lawman. Not a friendly one, though.

      Even with the dim light she could tell his face was carved in stone. Her heart skipped a beat. What had he found out? Had he called the deputy? Even now, was the man who murdered Vince and tried to kill her on his way here? Guarding her ribs, she struggled to swing her legs over the bed’s edge.

      Blake rushed over and pressed her back against the pillow. “Don’t even think about getting out of this bed. Not until I look at that wound.”

      “Where’s Ethan? Is he safe?”

      Blake placed a medical kit on the nightstand and flipped on a small bedside light. “Hunkered down with my crazy mutt glued to his side. First door on the right. They’re fine. I won’t say the same for you.”

      “Did you tell your deputy about us?” she countered.

      “Trying to sidestep the issue?” Blake opened the supplies. “You can thank your boy I didn’t ignore your request. I didn’t like his responses to my questions.” Blake sat on the bed next to her and unpacked bandages, hydrogen peroxide and antibiotic ointment. “That doesn’t mean I don’t want answers from you.”

      “What did Ethan say?”

      Blake’s jaw tightened with irritation. “Not much. His mother’s been shot and has passed out. He’s dependent on a man he’s never met.” He glared at her. “He’s scared.”

      The stark statement shattered a piece of Amanda’s heart.

      Blake dragged a chair next to the bed. “What’s going on?”

      She studied him warily. She didn’t know what to say. Blake prided himself on being honest. A by-the-book kind of guy. She doubted he’d appreciate what she’d been forced to do over the last day.

      Not that she regretted one action. To keep her son safe, Amanda would do anything.

      Anything.

      And her horrifying suspicions? The unspeakable theory she’d pieced together on that long drive from snippets of a few conversations and emails with Vince over the past few months. Should she tell Blake what she suspected about the death of his ex-wife and child? She had no proof. What if she was wrong? Why hurt him more? Better to remain silent.

      Blake waited, then shook his head. “Fine. Don’t imagine I won’t figure it out.” He stood and opened the first aid box. “Unfasten your shirt and lay on your side,” he said, his voice gruff. “This is gonna hurt.”

      No kidding. She unbuttoned the bottom half of the shirt and rolled to her right. He pushed the denim out of the way, his fingers gentle. Somehow, when she’d fantasized about him touching her bare skin, it had never involved a bullet wound. She stared at his lean hips and focused СКАЧАТЬ