Montana Standoff. Sharon Dunn

for the gun. Bryan watched until the man’s back was turned. He pushed the door open and landed a blow across the man’s shoulders.

      The thug groaned in pain, turned and swung for Bryan. Bryan hit him a second time on the arm with the log before the man wrenched it free. The two men wrestled. The assailant was twice his size, but Bryan refused to back down. Slowing this man down was the only chance Sarah would have to escape. They exchanged blows, drawing nearer to the open door.

      Bryan lifted his arm, hand curled into a fist, ready to land a hit. The solid surface beneath his feet evaporated. He tumbled backward down the stairs. Like being smacked over and over, he could feel the hits to his body on the way down. He stopped at the bottom, still conscious, but disoriented. The assailant hadn’t come after him. He heard the sound of things being moved around inside the fire tower. He was still looking for the gun and probably assumed Bryan was unconscious or dead.

      Bryan wasn’t sure if he could move. Had he broken any bones? Every muscle felt like it had been cut or bruised. He sat up. Pain shot through his body. It hurt to breathe. He needed to hide. He couldn’t fight in his current state. But no, he couldn’t back down, either. The assailant wouldn’t give up until he found out where Sarah was. Bryan tried to push himself to his feet.

      The noise inside stopped. The thug came to the top of the stairs. He lifted the gun, taking aim. “Where is she?”

      By force of will, Bryan scrambled to his feet. He stumbled toward the shelter of the trees. He was pretty beat up. He probably couldn’t outrun the thug, but he could hide, maybe draw the man into chasing after him instead of Sarah. He stepped into the trees and onto the trail.

      Sarah appeared. A look of shock flashed across her features when she saw him. He had bruises on his arms. She grabbed him. “I couldn’t leave without you.” She wrapped her arm around his waist. The first shot from the thug’s gun pierced the air. “We’d better hurry.”

      As she held on to him, he could feel his strength returning. Nothing was broken. He may have bruised a rib. He was in shock and badly beat up, but not to the point where he couldn’t move quickly. They ran along the trail. A second shot broke off a tree branch in front of them.

      They came to the clearing where the truck sat. “I can drive,” Bryan said.

      Sarah hesitated, drawing the keys close to her chest.

      “It’s not as bad as it looks,” said Bryan.

      She handed him the keys and sprinted around the truck to the passenger-side door. He climbed into the cab, started the engine and closed the door just as the assailant came into the clearing. Bryan hit the gas doing a tight turn to get out of the parking area. The back tires spat out gravel as a bullet collided with metal.

      Sarah craned her neck. “I think he hit the side of the truck.”

      He’d probably been aiming for the tires. Bryan pressed the accelerator to the floor. He didn’t want to give this guy a second chance. The truck jolted and lumbered down the mountain road.

      Sarah leaned back against the seat, tilting her head. Her curly brown hair had worked free of the ponytail. Her face was covered with sweat and dirt. She turned her head, soft blue eyes resting on him. She’d come back for him, risked her life. “He won’t be able to catch us now. Not on foot.”

      “Yeah.” He didn’t want to worry her about the second hit man. Had the sheriff made it to the car or had the thug gotten away?

      “How far is it to this country store?”

      “I’ll take you all the way into town...and to the police station.” He didn’t like the idea of leaving her anywhere until he could be assured she was safe, though he dreaded the thought of returning to the police station. His departure had not been a quiet one. Incensed at the lack of justice over Tyler Mason, he’d let his chief know how he felt.

      “Thank you for doing that.” Sarah leaned back and closed her eyes.

      He reached over and patted her leg without thinking. It was a gesture he’d done a thousand times when they were dating. She sat up straight, and her eyes popped open.

      He bit the inside of his cheek. What a stupid move. Of course, he didn’t think he could go back to where they had been ten years ago. Too much had changed, even before they parted ways.

      He cleared his throat. “We do need to stop at the country store and make some phone calls. My cell phone is back at the fire tower. I need to find out if my replacement made it.” He hated abandoning his post and worried that he’d sent his replacement into a dangerous situation if the guy was still skulking around the woods with a gun. Though he doubted the thug would hurt anyone else and risk having another person who could identify him.

      The road evened out, decreasing the bouncing in the truck. Sarah folded her hands in her lap as a tense silence fell between them.

      What did they talk about now? What could they talk about that wouldn’t open old wounds? Even thinking about how their relationship had ended made his chest tight. No, he couldn’t go there again.

      Sarah leaned toward him and pointed through the windshield. “That must be it, huh?”

      A hundred yards ahead was a concrete building with a parking lot full of trailers. As they neared the store, signs advertising raft and boat rentals and bait for sale came into view. A campground a mile up the road was the main source of business for the store along with the abundance of fishermen who came for the freshwater fishing. Bryan pulled into the dirt lot.

      “It’ll take me just a minute to make these calls,” Bryan said.

      Sarah nodded. The bandage above her eye had come lose. He reached over and pressed it against her forehead.

      She lifted her chin as a show of resolve. She’d always been a strong person emotionally. She had had to be. But what she had been through today would have made anyone fall apart. He touched her cheek with his knuckles. “It’s going to be okay. I’ll get you into town.” She nodded and tried to smile. Bryan resisted the urge to pull her into a comforting hug. It wasn’t his place to do that for her anymore.

      Bryan got out of the truck and ambled toward the store entrance.

      * * *

      Alone in the truck, Sarah glanced out the back window. A hard, cold mass of fear had settled in her chest. These men were not going to give up easily. What could Crew have done for this kind of wrath to come down on him? He must have gone into hiding or the men wouldn’t have sought her out. Wherever he was, she hoped he was safe.

      She looked out Bryan’s window. Mixed in with all the trailers, there was only one car parked off to the side that must belong to the owner or store clerk. No one wandered around outside. Through the store window, she could see Bryan step up to the counter while the clerk rang up his purchases.

      She would have been dead by now if it hadn’t been for Bryan. How had a forest ranger learned to fight like that? She placed her fingers on the bandage on her forehead. His gentle touch had caused memories of being held by him to rise to the surface. All those years ago, she’d rested her head on his chest surrounded by his heartbeat while strong arms enveloped her. Back then, she had felt safe for the first time in her life when she was with him. But it didn’t last.

      Bryan emerged from the store holding two large cans. She leaned over and opened the door for him. He handed her one of the cans, an iced tea. “That drink I meant to get for you earlier.”

      Moved by such a small act of consideration, she opened the can and took a sip. The cool liquid traveled smoothly down her parched throat. She took several more gulps. “That tastes really good, thanks.”

      Bryan sat behind the wheel, popped the tab on his tea and placed it in the cup holder. “My replacement made it to the tower. No sign of the guy with the gun. I checked in with the sheriff and called the city police, too. They might be willing to get involved since the kidnapping took place in town. You can make your statement to them.”

      “Did the sheriff