Cowboy in the Crossfire

“You wanted my help. It’s this or a doctor. You’ve got a fever.”

She studied his face and could see he was deadly serious. Showing herself at any medical facility would put a target on her and Ethan. She had to stay under the radar for as long as she could. She wasn’t the criminal.

Well, not exactly. And certainly not voluntarily.

She snagged the pill and swallowed it with a grimace.

Blake studied her, his expression unwavering and speculative. “Just how much trouble are you in, Amanda? You take a horse pill to avoid the hospital, you drive eighteen hours in an ice storm after a bullet cut a furrow in your side. What are you doing here? Is your brother going to knock on my door next?”

So much for the fairy tale. She lifted her chin and swiped at her hair. “Vince is dead.”

The muscle of his jaw throbbed briefly. The only sign he cared at all.

“Aren’t you going to say anything? He was your best friend.”

“Best friend?” Blake crossed his arms, his expression grim. “Really? Is that what he was when he sold me out? When he didn’t show up for my son’s funeral?”

“He didn’t think you’d want him there.”

“He was right.”

Amanda rubbed her hands over her eyes to keep from looking into his perceptive gaze. He’d recognize the guilt, the secret knowledge. “There was never any proof Vince gave Internal Affairs evidence against you.”

“Only one person could’ve set me up to take the fall. Vince. You can lie to yourself, but don’t lie to me. I’ve had enough of that to last a lifetime.” Blake leaned over the bed, crowding her. She shrank back against the sheets.

“Don’t hurt my mommy!”

Ethan launched across the room, the dog racing after him. The boy grabbed Blake around the legs and started pounding at him. The sight of her usually gentle son taking all his anger and fear out on Blake savaged Amanda’s soul. Would he ever be the same after what he’d seen? She shoved off the bed as Blake stopped and calmly grasped Ethan’s arms.

“I don’t hurt people, son. I’m a policeman.”

Ethan wrenched away. “Policemen are bad. Police made Uncle Vince dead.”

Chapter Two

Cops killed Vince?

Blake dropped his hands, and Ethan dived into his mother’s arms. Amanda winced but hugged him close, murmuring words of comfort. Her wound had to be hurting like the devil, but she simply stroked Ethan’s head, rocking him to and fro. The only sign of pain was the tightness around her mouth and the color draining from her face. Incredible. The love that shone there twisted something inside Blake, touched some hidden place that needed to stay protected.

“It’s okay, little man,” she whispered. “I’ll keep us safe. I promise.”

She had more courage than Vince ever did. Blake had tried to convince his friend to work together to investigate and take down the dirty cops. Vince had done the opposite. He’d jumped in headfirst with the enemy, then helped set up Blake to take the fall for missing evidence and confiscated money from several drug busts.

Ethan’s sobs turned to hiccups. Blake’s jaw ached as he tried to contain his fury. Vince’s cowardice had dragged that innocent boy into God knows what.

Ethan, nestled against Amanda’s chest and clearly exhausted, fell asleep in only a few minutes. She kissed the top of his head and tried to stand. She trembled and swayed.

Blake wanted to punch his fist through the wall. He’d traumatized the boy even more. His stomach churned at the thought, acid hitting the back of his throat. He gulped down the guilt and reached out to steady her with a gentle touch. “I’ll take Ethan.”

Her hold tightened. She didn’t trust anyone else with him. He got that, but he also knew her legs quivered underneath her. She was near collapse. He stilled, waiting patiently, his arms open. Finally, as if her energy left her, she nodded. Blake lifted the sleeping boy. The actions, the familiar, precious weight of his little body poked at the empty ache inside of Blake. The boy snuggled closer, and Blake’s throat closed off at the swell of emotions. Ethan was vulnerable and trusting enough in sleep to let a stranger hold him. A child’s faith.

The dog at his heels, Blake carried Amanda’s son down the hall and tucked him beneath the covers. His gaze lingered on Ethan’s tear-stained cheeks. Blake knotted his hands into fists. No child deserved to face this kind of fear. He hated that Ethan feared law enforcement—the people he should trust.

Leo whined and Blake gave the dog a nod. The mutt jumped onto the bed and settled next to Ethan. The boy would be okay, but Blake needed answers from Amanda. She was keeping secrets. He couldn’t allow that. Ethan wasn’t going to feel unsafe. Not on Blake’s watch.

He stalked out of the room and grabbed the door, ready to slam it, then stopped himself. Softly, he eased it shut, strode through the doorway and closed him and Amanda into the guest bedroom. “No more games. Is what Ethan said true?”

“Why do you think I never went to a hospital? Vince was murdered. By a cop.”

“I figured that one out.”

As many times as Blake had cursed his former best friend for being a low-down, belly-crawling coward, he hadn’t wanted him dead. Nailed for bribery. Definitely. Confessing to the police area commander how Vince had framed Blake. Most assuredly.

But not dead.

Blake crossed his arms and ignored the fatigue and vulnerability in her eyes. He wouldn’t let himself get sucked in. He had to protect Ethan. “Who did it?”

“I don’t know.” Amanda shifted her focus toward the door. “I should go to him.”

Her gaze flickered left, and she twirled a strand of her curly hair. Vince had joked about the obvious tell. He’d warned Blake if he ever played poker with Amanda, twisting her hair was a sure sign of a bluff.

“Your brother lied to me every damn day the last six months I was in Austin. I’ve learned how to spot deceit, so don’t bother trying it.” Her pretty mouth opened slightly in surprise, and he let out a harsh laugh. “Yeah, I can see your wheels turning. I may be a small-town sheriff now, but I’ve still got big-city instincts.”

“I’m not lying.”

He eased toward her. “Fine. Keep your secrets. As soon as this storm ends, you can fight your own battles.” He paused. “Without Ethan in the middle of them. He’ll stay with me.”

“You have no right—”

“I do if I think your son’s in danger.” He leaned back against the dressing table. “Did you get in the middle of one of Vince’s dirty deals? Is that how you got shot?”

“Take that back.” She jumped to her feet, then doubled over with a whimper. Her knees buckled, and she sagged to the floor.

Blake cursed and reached for her. He’d have thought she was feigning pain to distract him except her face had turned a scary shade of gray. He didn’t want to hurt her. He wanted her to tell him the truth. To give him the information he needed to protect them both. No matter what trouble she’d gotten into, she didn’t deserve this. Neither did Ethan.

“Don’t touch me.” She scooted away from him.

“Shut up. You’re hurt, and you’ve lost a lot of blood. Get up too fast and you’ll keel over every time.”

He took one step, swept her into his arms and strode to the bed, pretending to ignore the blue-and-silver sweatshirt that slid down one shoulder and the bare skin of her legs against his arm. Gently, he laid her down and tucked a pillow behind her. He dragged a chair over and straddled it. “I can see you love Ethan, but you can’t protect him.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

She was silent. Blake met her gaze, his own steady and resolute. He could see her wavering and leaned forward. “You came here for a reason, Amanda. Let me help you.”

She rubbed her eyes with her hands and sighed in defeat. “Vince’s last words were to Ethan. He said to come to you.”

“That doesn’t make sense. We haven’t spoken since my father was killed and I left Austin. Why would he send you to me?”