Delores Fossen - Cowboy Behind the Badge

“Be careful,” Tucker said, and it took her a moment to realize why he’d issued that warning. It was meant for his brother.

With his gun ready, Colt bolted from the side of the cruiser and went after the man.

“The babies,” Laine reminded him. “They’re in the house alone.” And while Tucker had said that his sister had contained the other two men, they could always try to escape and go inside to take the newborns.

Tucker pulled her right back down when she tried to get up, and he kept his attention pinned to the woods where Colt had disappeared. The seconds crawled by. No sounds. No shots. The gunshot had dulled her hearing, but she could feel the steady throb of her heartbeat crashing in her ears.

“Move fast,” Tucker finally said, and he stood, pulling her to her feet.

Laine didn’t even have time to regain her balance before he started running with her toward the house. Tucker got her up the steps and inside, and then he shut the door.

The babies were still crying, and Laine tried to go to them. Again Tucker moved in front to stop her. He was still the vigilant lawman, his gaze still firing all around.

Mercy, was there another gunman in the house?

They moved slowly, with Tucker checking every corner until they worked their way to the kitchen.

“Stay here,” he insisted.

With his gun ready, he first looked out the kitchen window where his sister and the other two men still were. Everything must have been okay there because he started to check out the rest of the house.

Laine hurried to the babies to make sure they were okay. They appeared to be. Since she was soaked to the bone, she put the blanket between the babies and her wet clothes before she scooped them into her arms.

Even though they were too young to understand, they were perhaps sensing the horrible nightmare that’d just happened. She tried rocking them so they would stop crying and she could hear what was going on in the house.

It seemed to take an eternity for Tucker to return, and when she saw him, Laine released the breath she’d been holding. He no longer had his gun raised, and there was some relief in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “Did he hurt you?”

“I’m fine,” Laine lied. Her scrapes and bruises would all be minor, but it might take a lifetime or two to feel fine.

His phone rang, and he yanked it from his pocket. “It’s Colt,” he relayed to her, and he answered it.

Laine couldn’t hear what his brother was saying, but she knew from his expression that it wasn’t good news. “The rain washed away the tracks,” Tucker explained, a muscle flickering in his jaw.

So they’d lost him.

Laine couldn’t stop the sound from making its way through her throat. This wasn’t over. The babies still weren’t safe.

“We’ll get a CSI team out to look for anything to indicate where he’s heading,” Tucker added, though he didn’t sound convinced that it would do any good.

The man probably had a vehicle stashed nearby and was already long gone.

Tucker didn’t stay in the pantry. Instead, he went to the back door, opened it and kept watch over the two gunmen they had managed to capture. He also motioned toward the ambulance, obviously giving them the go-ahead to come closer to the house. After he’d done that, he glanced back at her, and this time, there was no relief anywhere on his face.

Just questions.

Well, one question anyway.

“What the heck was that clown talking about back there?” Tucker asked.

Laine knew exactly what Tucker was referring to, and she remembered every word of what the man had said.

You might wanta check your facts there, bud. She’s a lot of things, but innocent ain’t one of them.

She opened her mouth. Closed it. Shook her head. Obviously that reaction didn’t please Tucker, because he mumbled some profanity and snapped back around to face her.

“What did he mean?” Tucker demanded. “And what the heck are you really doing here?”

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