by Robin Perini
"He can do more than that. Leo, come," Blake ordered, carrying the truck. She followed as he led her son into a small bedroom and placed the toy on the floor. He wrapped an afghan around Ethan, then moved two chairs into place on either side of the boy. He threw another blanket over the chair backs and motioned the dog under the blanket.
"How about you and Leo camp out in here?"
The dog ducked under the makeshift tent, took a quick turn and pressed his furry body against Ethan's, licking his face. Her son hugged the dog tightly, but his face wasn't tense and afraid. Leo had comforted Ethan in a way she couldn't. That dog hadn't left the boy alone. Unlike her. One trip to the barn. One mind-blowing kiss, and Ethan had been trapped. No more. Every choice she made from now on would be all about keeping him safe.
He pulled the blanket over his head. A loud vroom sounded. Her son had gone into a world of make-believe.
Blake clasped her elbow and bent down, his mouth next to her ear. "Ethan will be fine. We'll be just around the corner. You'll hear him if he calls out."
She stared up at his strong figure and Blake held out a hand. He could take care of them. She could see it in his face, and she believed him.
He pointed to her side. "How's it feel?"
"It doesn't hurt now."
"So you wouldn't mind getting back in that truck and driving over potholes for another couple hours?"
"Of course not," she lied, dreading even the thought. To prove herself, she crossed her arms in front of her, and that small movement tugged on her wound.
He frowned down at her. "Forget this," he muttered and dragged her down the hall.
"Ouch. Cut it out."
"If that little movement hurt, then you lied to me." He pulled out the horse pills. "You're due. Someone needs to take care of you, because you don't seem to mind if you get an infection."
He led her into a large kitchen. Double burners and ovens. A huge butcher's block island. He banged open cabinets, searching for something. The slam made her flinch. For the first time she noticed the tension in his posture, his back, his neck. The hair that he'd obviously shoved his fingers through. He glanced at her over his shoulder, his eyes more than concerned, she realized with a flash of insight. He was worried about her.
Turning, he rifled through the cabinet above the stove.
"What are you looking for?"
"Something that will keep you out of the hospital until we can track down Vince's file."
"You really think we can find his evidence?"
He gave a satisfied grunt and grabbed medical supplies out of the cabinet. "If Vince wanted us to, yeah. If he didn't..." Blake let the unfinished sentence ride the quiet of the room.
"What are you saying?"
"Vince was good at hiding the truth," Blake said finally as he lifted her sweatshirt and carefully unwrapped the bandage around her torso.
"He saved Ethan's life."
"He put you both in danger." Blake laid the blood-stained gauze on the table between them and pierced her with an accusatory gaze.
The chill in the air no longer came from the winter weather, but from his anger. Amanda looked up at him. "He did the best he could."
Blake's hot gaze flashed. "You want to know what your precious brother did? He wanted me to play their game. Look the other way. That's what I wouldn't agree to. That's why he framed me and hung me out to dry. Paul Irving in Internal Affairs tried to help. Even he couldn't stop them from railroading me."
"Vince wouldn't have."
Blake pulled out Betadine and more bandages from the Maddox house's medical kit and soaked some of the clean strips with the brown liquid. "Face it, your brother was involved with them, Amanda. That's why you were shot. That's why we're hiding out. Vince was a bad cop. He was never my friend. He used me. Worse, he let you and Ethan stay with him when he knew it was dangerous."
Amanda reeled back, shaking her head. "I won't believe that. He wouldn't put my son in danger." Vince had taken care of her. It couldn't be true. She rubbed her temple. "No. He was a good cop. Maybe he was undercover. Investigating them."
"You can delude yourself all you want, but it doesn't change the facts." Blake retrieved tape and scissors and set them next to the bandages on the table. He crossed his arms. "I need the truth. Did you know all along? Are you still covering for him?"
"The truth? That's easy. I'd do anything for Ethan." Amanda jumped up from the table, uncaring that her side could have burst into flames. "Don't do me any favors. I've got a plan," she lied.
"You've got men on your tail who have access to police systems. Exactly what is your plan?"
"I want him safe." She looked up at Blake and a wave of utter fatigue melted her bones.
"Not much of a plan. That's a goal."
She swayed and sank back into the chair as all her energy ran out of her. Blake's face grew blurry. He let out a sharp curse and came toward her. She shrank away, but he kept coming.
"I'm sorry," he said. He held her shoulders and cupped her cheek. "Vince is a sore spot for me, but I shouldn't have taken it out on you."
"He was my brother. I won't believe he betrayed his best friend. Or me." She sighed and dropped her chin to her chest. "I can't."
He knelt beside her and caught her gaze with his. "I admire your loyalty," he said as he shifted her shirt aside. "Hurting worse than ever, isn't it?"
She let him drop the subject. They'd never agree, and she understood why. Besides, she didn't want to fight anymore. She hurt, she was tired and she wanted to be safe.
"If we're going to bring these guys down, you need to be well and healed so your actions match your bravery."
Amanda gripped her fingertips and looked down. "I'm not brave."
He lifted her chin. "You faced me. And I'm damn scary." He quirked a smile. "Just ask the kids I stopped for joyriding last weekend."
His eyes twinkled and the gold flecks sparkled. For a brief moment she saw a hint of the Blake she'd known in Austin. The man with an easy laugh and smile, joking with Vince. His dry sense of humor had been one of the first things that had attracted her.
He'd lost some of that joy. Who wouldn't have? But the small inkling of playfulness made her heart flutter. He bent his head and his fingers explored her wound. She sucked in a sharp breath.
"Sorry," he muttered as he probed the tender skin. "It looks better. Not as inflamed. Maybe we lucked out." He swiped the gash with Betadine.
"So," she panted, trying to distract herself from the pain, "where do you think Vince hid the file? Did he send you a package?"
"The only thing I got from Austin was my last paycheck."
She couldn't process his words. With each stroke, her side exploded in fiery stings of agony. She wanted to run outside naked to cool the hurt. She couldn't stop the small cry from escaping.
Immediately, he stopped and stared at her, naked emotions showed on his face. The sorrow, the regret. A small tick pulsed at his jaw. He wasn't completely in control.
He swallowed and quickly wrapped her torso, finally pressing the bandage tight. "You're done," he said, his voice husky. His fingers lingered against the binding, hovering over her bare skin. "I'm sorry I hurt you."
"Feels better." She shifted a bit. "Thank you. For more than this. For saving our lives."
He shook his head. "I underestimated how much they wanted you. I put you in danger by staying at my place too long. It won't happen again." He lifted his hand and stroked the side of her cheek. "I promise."
She leaned into him, wanting the comfort, wanting the reassurance of his strong presence, knowing he wouldn't let her down. His hands stroked her arms, and she looked into his eyes. They burned hot, the green fire leaping under his hooded gaze--a familiar spark that smoldered beneath the surface the more time they spent together.
Her entire being flooded with need. She couldn't look away, and the awareness flaring between them became palpable and undeniable.
"I shouldn't," he said as he bent down, his face hovering inches above her m
outh. "You're hurt."
"I know. But I can." She lifted her lips and pressed them against his.
Without hesitation, without comment, he returned her kiss, gently, reverently.
Amanda closed her eyes and clutched his shirt, letting the warmth of his lips, the tenderness of his touch reignite more than her passion. He lit a fire in her soul, ignited hope in her heart.
She sighed. He raised his head, then carefully, he lifted her in his arms and carried her down the hall.
Amanda laid her head against his shoulder. His heartbeat thudded against her ear and quickened as she rested her hand against his chest.
Her own pulse accelerated in response. She was in trouble. Big trouble.
And for this one moment, she didn't care.
Chapter Five
Blake's body thrummed with urgency as Amanda nestled against his chest. His knees trembled, not from her insignificant weight but from how much he wanted her. Not that he could do anything about it. The redness around her injury worried him. He prayed that the disinfectant and antibiotics would handle the infection that threatened.
His concern didn't stop his mind from wandering to a place he shouldn't go, though. If she weren't hurt, she could wrap her legs tight around his waist. If they didn't have clothes between him, he could sink into her and lose himself in her passion. He wanted to throw her on the bed and take her. Let his lust carry him away, but he couldn't.
This was Amanda. She was hurt, afraid and vulnerable.
She needed him to be a cop, not a lover.
Someday, he would revel in every touch, and before he'd finished, he would know every inch of her. Right now, he needed to be a gentleman.
Slowly, making certain he didn't jostle her too much, he carried her to one of the bedrooms. She looked up at him with a sultry and trusting gaze, her blue eyes deep as a darkening Texas sky.
He gently placed her on the bed and leaned over her, his body hovering just above hers. He took a pillow and placed it under her head. She clasped his arm as he tried to straighten.
"You're killing me." His fingertip trailed down her cheek to her throat. "Destroying my resolve."
She didn't answer just pulled his head down to hers and parted her lips.
A groan rumbled in his chest. He let himself taste her, exploring the sweetness of her mouth, eliciting a strangled cry from her lips. Amanda clung to him, but he knew they both wanted what they couldn't have. Not until she'd healed.
He pulled back. "You need to rest." He pushed the curls from her forehead and let his thumb drift under the shadowed circles below her eyes that reminded him why he had to resist her.
"Stay with me," she said. "I don't want to be alone. Not right now."
"Can I trust you to behave yourself?" he teased with a smile, not certain he didn't see a hint of vixen behind the fatigue on her face.
"I promise to keep my hands to myself." She let out a small yawn. "I'm too tired to tempt you."
"Lying there is temptation enough," Blake said. He kicked off his boots, eased onto the bed and turned on his side. "Is this okay?"
She looked up at him. "Why didn't you ever ask me out? After that Christmas Eve party."
"Vince," Blake said. "Rule number one is don't sleep with your best friend's sister. And I knew if I ever got you alone exactly where it would lead. Into bed."
"You didn't expect this, did you?"
"I never thought I'd have you beside me." He placed a hand lightly over her shirt where the bandage circled her chest. "I hate that it's in this situation."
"Can you help us, Blake? Can you find out who's after us?"
"I have some ideas. Friends I can trust."
"Not cops."
He wanted to wipe the frown lines from her forehead. "A bit more unconventional than that, but they'll help us put these murderers away."
"You followed the best friend rules. You followed the cop rules. I'm not very good at rules." She reached a hand to touch his face.
"Then maybe I can learn something." He kissed her nose and settled down beside her. "Try to rest. I don't imagine Ethan will stay occupied much longer."
Blake didn't know how long he watched the rise and fall of her chest, the slight parting of her lips or even the wince as she shifted closer to him. He loved that she turned to him even in sleep.
The house was quiet, and he needed to make another call. Surely Logan would be around by now. Just as he shifted to the side of the bed, a loud whinny sounded from outside.
Blake stilled, his senses on alert. The hair on the back of his neck stood at attention and he focused on the noise filtering from outside. It wasn't right.
No time to waste. Blake tugged on his boots. Very gently he touched Amanda's shoulder.
Her eyelids flew open. "What's wrong?"
"Something outside."
He grabbed his Glock from the nightstand. Her eyes widened and she struggled to her feet, following him into the kitchen. He slipped into his sheepskin coat that still smelled of Amanda and handed her the truck keys. "If anything happens, get Ethan and go to the Triple C Ranch. It's right off the county road going toward Big Spring. About ninety minutes if you push it. Tell Logan Carmichael I sent you. He can help."
"You're scaring me."
He donned his Stetson. "I'm being cautious. It's probably nothing."
He exited through the back of the ranch house and moved toward the sound of the unsettled horses. They snorted and he could hear them racing around their pen.
A series of far-off barks made Blake's stomach clench. "Leo!"
The dog didn't come.
From out in the pasture the rumbling of a tractor roared. What the hell? He whirled around, then stopped and stared at the snow-patched terrain in horror. Hundreds of feet away, the small figure of Ethan flailed on the tractor, bouncing as the machine barreled across the frozen terrain. The thing had to be going at least thirty miles per hour.
Leo chased after him, keeping pace with the equipment.
Cursing the infamous "Billy" for teaching Ethan to start the thing, Blake scanned the yard. He could take the truck from behind the house, but getting to Ethan would require Amanda's help. She didn't have the strength. Not with her injury.
He glanced at Maddox's prized quarter horse, Ginger, who shifted restlessly in the corral, a fence away from their prized bull. The breed could run fast. At least faster than the tractor. Easier to maneuver than the truck. Although, despite everything, at this moment, he wished he had Sugar. That horse could really fly. Blake raced to Ginger and mounted her bareback. With a flick of his boots, he set the horse to a strong gallop. He grasped the mane and leaned forward as they leaped the fence.
"Come on, girl. Catch up with him."
The tractor looked small. It had to be running at full speed. Urging the horse onward, slowly, they closed the distance. As Blake got closer, he watched Ethan turn around in the seat and wave, a big smile on his face.
Unbelievable. The kid had no idea of the danger he faced. With the ice, one sharp turn or bounce and the machine would roll over. Ethan could be maimed or crushed.
Blake's heart galloped against his chest. He refused to let Amanda go through what he'd experienced. He could still picture the cop coming up to him in the police station, his face solemn. "There's been an accident. I'm sorry, Blake. Your son didn't make it." Even the memory of the words made Blake's heart bleed.
"Ethan, hold on!"
Even as Blake yelled, he knew screaming was useless. Ethan would never hear him over the roar of the motor. He kicked the horse's flank, and she increased her speed. They were gaining.
The tractor hit a bump. Ethan bounced in the seat. He nearly fell off the side. His smile faded. Panicked he opened his mouth and shouted something. Blake's gut twisted. He could make out the words. "Help me!"
Leo leaped toward the boy, but the dog could barely keep up with the speeding tractor.
"Hold on, buddy." Blake bent forward close to the quarter horse's neck. "Come on, gi
rl. Get me to him."
Ethan sank into the seat and grabbed hold of the edge. At least he hadn't fallen off. It could've been so much worse. The joyride was no longer a lark. If only he would keep his wits about him.
The horse's muscles shifted under Blake's thighs. He squeezed tight, urging the animal on. No saddle made the ride more dangerous, but he'd done his share of midnight capers across the Western plains. Still, as he chased the speeding machine, he considered his options. He might be better off jumping from the horse and onto the tractor, not risking slipping off the sweat-slickened horse's back when he reached for Ethan.
Blake scanned the ice-covered ground ahead of the tractor. His heart dropped. An irrigation ditch. No way the tractor would miss it.
No way Blake could stop the tractor in time.
"Come on, Ginger. Faster." He gripped her mane.
As if sensing his urgency, the horse quickened her gallop. Blake gauged the distance remaining. It was gonna be close. Soon, the rumbling of the tractor screamed in his ears. The horse didn't wince at the loud noises. Thank God. Sugar would've been a nightmare here. Blake guided the animal alongside the equipment while Leo veered off slightly, giving Ginger more room.
Ethan turned his head and stared at Blake, eyes wide with fear. He didn't know if the near fall had stunned the boy or if he saw the danger ahead.
He reached out one arm. "Grab on to me, Ethan!"
In a move Blake couldn't have repeated, he scooped the boy into an arm and, with all the strength he possessed, tugged at the horse's mane. "Whoa, girl."
The galloping animal pulled back and veered sharply to the left, stopping on the edge of the irrigation ditch. The tractor dived headfirst over the edge. The equipment tumbled onto its side with a loud thud and a hiss of steam.
Blake strengthened his grip, snagged Ethan up and sat him on the horse's back. Together they watched as the rumbling mechanical beast gasped and sputtered dying breaths.
"It's just like Billy's tractor," Ethan said as he gaped at the mass of metal. "But it's too big for me."
"Yeah," Blake said, letting out a loud sigh amid Leo's rabid barking. He steadied his horse, slid off the animal and grabbed Ethan. He sat the boy on the ground and then patted the horse's neck. "Good girl."