Drury. Delores Fossen

Silver Creek Ranch, and all those houses were occupied by lawmen. Anyone who’d come here to break in was a couple of steps past being stupid.

      Of course, it might not be a break-in.

      Because Drury’s arm was still throbbing from the six stitches he had just gotten, he had no trouble recalling the encounter he’d had three hours earlier. A thug had knifed him during an FBI sting operation. Drury had managed to arrest him, but the guy had sworn on his soul that he would get even with Drury. No way could the soul-swearing guy have gotten out of jail yet, but he could have sent one of his buddies to do his dirty work.

      Drury brought his truck to a stop, eased his hand over his gun and tried to pick through the darkness and rain so he could get another glimpse of the guy. Nothing. But Drury knew he was there.

      “I’m Agent Drury Ryland,” he shouted. “Come out so I can see you.”

      The guy didn’t. And not only didn’t he come out, he fired a shot. Before Drury could even react, the bullet slammed into his windshield.

      The next two shots went straight into his truck’s engine. One must have hit the radiator because steam started spewing into the air.

      Drury cursed. There went his way to escape. If he wanted to escape, that is. He didn’t. He wanted to confront this moron and make him pay for starting a gunfight on Ryland land.

      Since the sound of the shots would no doubt alert his cousins and brothers, Drury sent a quick text to one of those cousins, Sheriff Grayson Ryland, and requested backup. However, Drury was hoping he could put an end to the situation before backup even arrived.

      Drury threw open his truck door, and using it for cover, he took aim at the shadowy figure that kept peering around the garage. He couldn’t just start pulling the trigger, though. It had to be a clean shot because Drury didn’t want it to ricochet and risk hitting a ranch hand or someone inside one of the nearby houses.

      The shooter obviously didn’t have that concern because he fired off another round at Drury. Big mistake. Because he had to lean out from the garage, and Drury took the shot.

      And hit the guy.

      Not a kill shot, though. He must have hit him in the shoulder because the gunman took off running. A few seconds later, Drury heard the sound of an engine.

      No.

      He didn’t want this clown getting away. Drury had to find out why the heck he’d just tried to kill him.

      A dark-colored SUV sped out from behind the garage. Not coming toward Drury. But rather the driver went on the other side of the house, through the yard and onto the road. Since there weren’t any houses at this angle, Drury emptied the clip into the SUV.

      Drury was certain he hit the guy again, but he kept going, speeding away from the house. He was about to jump in his truck and try to go in pursuit, but then Drury saw Grayson’s cruiser approaching. Grayson was not only the sheriff of Silver Creek, but he lived the closest and that’s why Drury had texted him.

      When Grayson reached Drury, he put down the window, and Drury saw he wasn’t alone. Grayson’s brother Mason was with him.

      “Any idea who’s in that SUV?” Grayson asked.

      Drury had to shake his head, but he lifted his arm to show them the fresh bandage. “Maybe a friend of the person who gave me this.”

      “We’ll go after him,” Grayson said. “Keep watch. Make sure he doesn’t double back.”

      Since Drury’s place was the first house on the road that led to the ranch, that wouldn’t be hard to do.

      When Grayson drove off in pursuit, Drury had a look around the grounds. He didn’t see anyone else, though. And if his attacker had left any blood by the garage, the rain was washing it all away. That made it even more critical for Grayson to find him so Drury could get some answers.

      He went to his back porch and cursed when he found the door unlocked. It was possible he’d just forgotten to lock it. Just as possible, though, that someone had broken in.

      Especially after what’d just happened.

      Drury got his gun ready and kicked open the door that led into his kitchen.

      “Don’t shoot,” someone said.

      A woman.

      Because she’d whispered that order, Drury didn’t immediately recognize her voice, but he certainly knew who she was when she stepped closer.

      Caitlyn Denson.

      The kitchen was dark, but there was enough illumination coming from the hall light that he had no trouble seeing her long brown hair and her face.

      And the blood trickling down her forehead.

      Drury didn’t know what shocked him the most. The blood or that she was even there at all. They weren’t exactly on friendly terms and hadn’t been in a long time.

      He had so many questions, and he wasn’t sure where to start. But his lawman’s instincts kicked in, and he checked her hands for weapons. Empty. And the pale yellow dress she was wearing was wet and clinging to her, so he knew she wasn’t carrying concealed.

      Still, he didn’t lower his gun. He kept it aimed at her. And he maneuvered himself so he could watch out the large bay window in the living room while still keeping an eye on Caitlyn.

      “I heard you’d built a house here on your cousins’ ranch, and your name is on the mailbox. I parked behind your barn,” she said, as if that explained everything.

      It didn’t, not by a long shot.

      “Did you have anything to do with that?” Drury tipped his head to the side yard where the shots had just been fired.

      Caitlyn’s eyes widened for just a second, and a thin breath left her mouth. “I think he was here because he’s looking for me. I swear, I didn’t know he’d follow me.”

      Well, it was an answer all right. But it only led to more questions. “You’re going to have to give me a better explanation than that. And start with how you got that cut or whatever the hell it is.” He grabbed some paper towels with his left hand and gave them to her.

      She nodded and pressed the towels to her head. “I didn’t break in, by the way. The door was unlocked, but you should know that I would have broken in if necessary. I needed a place to hide.” She staggered, caught the back of the chair.

      Drury cursed and went to her, holstering his gun so he could help her get seated and have a look at the wound that was causing her to bleed all over his kitchen floor. His stomach knotted when he saw the wound close-up.

      “Did someone club you on the head?” he asked.

      Caitlyn nodded, lightly touched the wound and grimaced when she saw the blood on her fingertips. “I’m not certain who did it. I didn’t get a look at his face. But it could have been the same man who shot at you.”

      And if so, the thug had come to finish what he’d started, and Drury had gotten caught in the middle. Caught only because she’d come here. But why?

      “You’re sure you don’t know who he is?” Drury pressed.

      Even though he didn’t spell it out, she obviously got what he meant. Was this connected to her late husband, Grant Denson? Grant had been dead for nearly two years now, but he’d been involved in some nasty illegal stuff when he was alive that might now have come back to haunt Caitlyn.

      Of course, when you sleep with snakes, you should expect to get bitten.

      Was that what had happened now?

      “I honestly don’t know the man’s name,” she explained. “But I know why he’s after me.” Her voice broke, and a hoarse sob tore from her mouth. “God, Drury, I’m so sorry. I didn’t have anywhere else to go, and I didn’t think he’d come here.”

      All