One Night Standoff

chapter Eleven



The anger slammed like a fist into Clayton’s chest, and after seeing the look on Lenora’s face, he knew that Quentin wasn’t lying. Not about this, anyway.

“Get him out of here,” Clayton told Cutter and the other ranch hand, Ray. “And make sure he’s off the ranch and doesn’t come back.”

Clayton caught one last glimpse of Quentin’s smile. A smile he wanted to dissolve to dust, but he forced himself to remember that Quentin was just the messenger. Yeah, he could still be guilty all the way up to his eyeballs, but he wasn’t lying now.

He waited until Cutter and Ray had the man out of his sight, and Clayton yanked out his phone so he could call Harlan at the marshals’ office.

“I don’t want to answer a lot of questions about what I’m about to ask you to do,” Clayton said the moment his brother answered. “But I need you to find my birth father right away and bring him in for questioning.”

“All right,” Harlan said without hesitation. “And if he resists?”

“I hope to hell he does,” Clayton mumbled, and he ended the call.

“Let’s go,” Clayton said to Lenora. But he didn’t just say it. He snapped it and got them moving.

“I’m sorry,” Lenora repeated.

Clayton wanted to assure her that he didn’t blame her for what’d just happened, but his throat clamped shut, and he couldn’t speak. It didn’t help that the sun broke through the clouds at that exact moment and the pain stabbed through his head.

“Come on,” Lenora insisted, and she reversed the grip and took hold of him. “Let’s get inside.”

He did. They hurried across the narrow strip of yard and driveway and back into the house. Thankfully no one was in the kitchen or other rooms that they went through, because Clayton didn’t want to explain what he was still having trouble dealing with.

Melvin might have been behind these attacks.

The SOB could have killed not just him, but Lenora and the baby.

With Lenora right behind him, he stormed up the stairs to the ranch office where he’d had the earlier computer interview with Riggs. At the time, Clayton had thought that was enough hard news to swallow, but here he’d been given another jolt.

“I honestly didn’t remember your father until Quentin said those things,” Lenora told him. Her voice was frantic now, and she moved in front of him to force eye contact.

Every nerve in his body felt raw, and the emotion was at a rolling boil inside him. It didn’t help that Lenora looked as if she was ready for him to toss her out the door. Clayton was ready to do something, but he wasn’t sure what.

Before he could think—which should have been a big red flag that anything he was about to do would likely be a mistake—he moved toward her. And he made that mistake anyway. He latched on to Lenora, dragged her against him and kissed her.

With the rage burning him, he forced himself to stay gentle. Not just with his mouth, but with his embrace. He tried to hold her as if she were fine glass that might shatter under too much pressure. Still, despite his holding back and the battering of emotions, he felt something else.

The sheer pleasure of her taste.

It soothed him. The sweet coil of heat that rippled through his body. The way she felt in his arms. Her scent. And that little purr that she made deep within her throat. All of it helped.

Then hurt.

Because the need twisted, and while he could feel the anger softening and melting away, the rest of him was far from soft. Obviously a certain part of him thought he was about to get lucky, but that couldn’t happen.

At least he was pretty sure it couldn’t.

Clayton turned, and without breaking the hold they had on each other, he shut the door and pressed Lenora against the back of it. If he was going to be stupid, he didn’t want someone walking in on them.

The kiss got hotter and deeper, and they couldn’t seem to get close enough to each other. Was this how it’d been the night they had sex? This overwhelming urge to do whatever it took to ease the pressure building inside them?

And this was a them situation. Because Lenora darn sure wasn’t a passive participant.

She worked her hands down his back, pulling him closer and closer. The new angle gave him perfect access to her neck, so Clayton lowered his head and dropped some kisses there.

Lenora made another of those sounds.

That revved his body into full gear, and he caught onto the back of her leg, adjusting the angle again so that her sex was against his.

Clayton nearly dragged her to the floor.

Man, he couldn’t take her like this. Okay, he could. But it might not be safe. He’d never had sex with a pregnant woman, and while that only seemed to add to this furnace of heat he was battling, he didn’t want to take any risks and hurt her.

Using every bit of willpower that he could muster, he caught on to her shoulders and moved her back just a little. Just enough so that the intimate contact was gone.

“I’m sorry,” he managed to say. “I shouldn’t have taken my bad mood out on you.”

“Give me a second to catch my breath and cool off.” She looked up at him, blinked. “That was a bad-mood reaction? Remind me to get you in a bad mood more often.” She gave a nervous laugh and waved him off. “Forget I said that.”

He’d have an easier time forgetting that he had an erection.

Part of him was pleased that she could make light of this. The other part of him wasn’t. He needed a big reason to stay away from her, and just telling himself that she was off-limits wasn’t doing the job.

With her chest still pumping for air, she reached out and ran her hand down his arm. It wasn’t foreplay. Probably meant to comfort him. And much to Clayton’s surprise, it did.

“I don’t blame you for not remembering my birth father,” he said right off the bat. “I don’t think for one minute you intentionally withheld that info.”

And maybe that made him stupid. Because while Lenora and he were in danger together, that didn’t mean they were together.

“For what it’s worth, I didn’t deal directly with Melvin.” She paused. “I take it he’s a crook or he wouldn’t have had an association with Quentin.”

“Oh, yeah. He’s a crook, all right. Never committed a federal offense—not one that I could find, anyway. If I had, I would have gone after him.”

Another pause. Another touch on his arm. “Would Melvin really want you dead?” she asked.

“If the price was right, he would. And I figure Riggs would pay a great deal of money to get us out of the picture.”

Lenora made a sound of agreement and slid her hand over her stomach. “And he wouldn’t give a second thought to the baby.” She huffed. Groaned. Moved away from him. “I thought if I left that it would be safer for you. I made plans to leave,” she added, snagging his gaze.

“You what?”

She didn’t exactly look pleased about having to tell him this. Good. Because Clayton wasn’t pleased to hear it.

“I made some calls last night on the burner cell so they couldn’t be traced,” she explained. “I managed to make arrangements for a place in Dallas. I figured leaving was the best way to keep you alive.”

There it was. Yet something else she’d withheld from him. “Did you plan on telling me, or would you have just left the way you did the day I was shot?”

Her silence let him know the answer to that. “I trust you, but I thought I’d be doing you a favor.”

He tried not to be angry with her. He succeeded at that, but not at nullifying the frustration.

Clayton walked to her and looked her directly in the eyes. “You can’t leave. I know it’s not fair because you’re the one who has to go through this pregnancy, but that’s my baby, and I want to be part of his or her life. That includes keeping the baby, and you, safe.”

She certainly didn’t jump to agree with him. “But at what cost? You could be killed.”

“Any cost,” he let her know. And it wasn’t lip service. He hadn’t planned on fatherhood, but Clayton realized the baby was one of the most important things in his life.

Family.

“After we find who’s trying to kill us, we’ll sit down and work out, well, whatever we need to work out.”

She stared at him, probably ready to ask if that whatever included sex. Yeah, it likely would. Despite not needing the distraction, Clayton couldn’t see a way around it. Their bodies just lit up like firecrackers when they were around each other, and since he didn’t intend to let her out of his sight for long, that meant a lot of heat.

His phone buzzed, and he saw Harlan’s name on the screen. “Well?” Clayton greeted his brother, and he hoped it was good news for a change.

“I made some calls and found the SOB. Melvin’s at his new place of business in San Antonio. He’s selling souvenir imports from Mexico.”

Yeah, finding him was good news, all right. Maybe it would get even better. “Please tell me Melvin’s business is a front for drugs or something else illegal?”

“SAPD will check it out,” Harlan verified. “Are you up for an interrogation?”

“With Melvin?” Clayton clarified.

“Yep. I have a friend over there at SAPD, Lt. Nate Ryland, and he’s offered to bring the father of the year here to Maverick Springs.”

Clayton’s stomach tightened. He wanted to see Melvin, but he dreaded it, too. “How soon?”

“Soon,” Harlan said. “Lt. Ryland is picking him up now. They’ll be here in about two hours.”

Not long of a wait, and not much time to plan what to do with Lenora. Despite his earlier thought of not letting her out of his sight for long, he might have to do just that to keep her safe.

With help from one of his brothers, that was.

Clayton ended the call and turned to her. “I want you to stay here while I go into town.”

The head shaking started almost immediately. “I want to see Melvin and hear what he has to say.”

“Too risky. Best if you stay here. I’ll call Dallas and have him come out and stay with Stella, Kirby and you while I talk to Melvin. I won’t be long, promise.”

He saw the moment that Lenora surrendered to that idea, but she also wasn’t pleased. Still, he preferred her riled to being in danger. Or in the same room with Melvin. Which might be the same thing.

His phone buzzed again, and for a moment Clayton thought it was Harlan calling with something he’d forgotten to say. But it was Cutter again.

“Please tell me Quentin didn’t give you any trouble leaving the ranch,” Clayton said when he answered.

“No, he left, all right. But we got another kind of trouble.”

Before Clayton could groan or ask what that trouble was, he heard something he didn’t want to hear.

A gunshot.

* * *

THE SOUND OF THE SHOT stopped Lenora cold. She’d been on the verge of asking Clayton who or what had put that troubled look back on his face, but that shot was the answer to her question.

God.

What had gone wrong now?

Clayton pulled her to the floor even though she’d already started in that direction anyway, and he drew his gun from his holster. She’d left her weapon in the guest room, and Lenora cursed her decision to do that. The ranch had felt safe.

Judging from that shot, that was a false sense of security. Now she had no immediate way to defend herself.

If that was indeed what she would have to do.

Lenora held out hope that one of the ranch hands had fired at a snake or something.

“Where?” Clayton demanded. Lenora knew it was Cutter on the other end of the line, but she couldn’t make out what the man was saying.

Another shot cracked through the air, and Clayton jabbed the end-call button and scrambled to the window so he could look out the corner of the blinds.

“Stay down,” he told her.

That and his suddenly vigilant stance let her know this wasn’t someone shooting at snakes. No. It could be Quentin or those two gunmen who’d tried to kill them at the church. Either way, they were under fire.

“Stella?” Clayton called out.

“Was that a gunshot?” the woman immediately asked.

“Yes.” And Lenora could tell that it hurt for him to say that. “Get Kirby on the floor and away from the windows.”

Hopefully Stella would do as he said, but even with the nurse’s help, it wouldn’t be easy for the two women to get a sick, weak man to a safe place.

The third shot blasted into something. The barn, maybe. Judging from the sound, their attacker was using a high-powered rifle, which meant he wouldn’t have to be too close to deliver those shots.

“Who’s doing this?” she asked.

“Not sure.” Clayton moved to the other side of the window and winced when he looked out. No doubt because of the light in his eyes.

Lenora wanted to suggest they trade places. She was a good shot and the light wasn’t a factor for her, but there was no way Clayton was going to let her do that.

When his phone buzzed again, Clayton slid it across the floor toward her. “Answer it and put it on speaker.”

Lenora did, and she extended her hand so the cell would be closer to him. “What’s going on out there?” Clayton immediately asked. “Can you see the shooter?”

“Not anymore,” Cutter explained. “I got just that one glimpse of him by the back pasture fence, and he disappeared into the trees.”

And was probably in one of them by now. On their short walk to the barn to talk to Quentin, Lenora had noticed plenty of towering oaks just on the other side of that fence, and in parts it was thick woods. About a quarter of a mile from the house.

Easy range for someone armed with a scope rifle.

“I called the others,” Cutter added. “They’re on the way.”

Yes, but they were coming from town, which meant they were at least twenty minutes out. Plus, they couldn’t just come driving onto the property and risk being shot. They’d have to work out some kind of plan for a safe, indirect approach, and that would take precious time.

There was another shot, but this time Lenora didn’t have to guess what it hit. Not the barn. This one had gone into the back of the house.

“Kirby’s room is back there.” Clayton’s breath was gusting now, and he must have realized he wouldn’t get a look at the gunman from this particular window, because he scurried away from it and to the door.

“Come on,” Clayton finally said. “Stay low and behind me. I need to get to the back of the house so I can try to pinpoint this gunman.”

“You have an extra weapon?” she asked.

“I don’t want you shooting. I don’t want you anywhere near the line of fire.” But even after issuing that warning, he rifled through the bottom desk drawer and came up with another semiautomatic.

The moment the gun was in her hand, Clayton got them moving. Thankfully, the stairs were at the front of the house, away from those bullets that continued to come at them.

The timing of the shots was odd. Spaced out five to six seconds. Hardly a barrage, but maybe the gunman hoped to get a lucky shot by firing randomly into the house. He could also be saving ammo. That didn’t put her at ease any, because it meant he could prolong the attack.

There was a powder room just off the entry, and Clayton threw open the door and got her inside. Probably because it had a limestone floor and no exterior walls or windows. It was no doubt one of the safest places in the house. Unlike Kirby’s room. Even though she hadn’t been inside it, she knew it was on the back corner of the building.

Right where the gunman was firing.

“It shouldn’t take my brothers long to get here,” Clayton said, and he gave her what was probably meant to be a reassuring glance. It didn’t work, because Lenora saw the concern all over his face.

Clayton didn’t waste any time. He started running, and Lenora picked through the gunfire and the other noises in the house so she could listen to his footsteps. It didn’t take long before she could no longer hear them, but she did hear Stella’s frantic voice.

God, she hoped that Kirby hadn’t been shot. Or worse. It sickened her enough to know that this monster was after Clayton and her, but she didn’t want his foster father pulled into the middle of this.

More footsteps.

Clayton was probably moving them to a safer location. The footsteps weren’t far away from her when Lenora heard and felt the loud blast.

Another shot.

But this one hadn’t come from the back of the house. This bullet had torn through the front door. That sent her already-racing heart beating even faster. Because they weren’t just dealing with one shooter, but with two.

At least.

Heaven knew how many of them were out there, waiting to kill them.

Clayton threw open the powder room door and practically pushed Kirby, Stella and the nurse inside. There wasn’t a drop of color in Kirby’s face, and the two women looked terrified. This couldn’t be good for Kirby’s already-fragile health, and she hoped it didn’t cause a setback. Clayton was already dealing with enough guilt over these attacks, and he’d never forgive himself if Kirby got hurt.

It was a tight fit when all four of them piled into the small room, but since Lenora was the only one of them armed, she worked her way to the doorway so she could try to protect them if the gunmen got into the house. It wasn’t something Clayton would want her to do, but they didn’t have a choice.

Lenora nearly caught Clayton by the arm when he started toward the front door. Right where the second shooter had targeted. But the sound caused him to go to a standstill.

Sirens.

Lots of them.

His brothers were on the grounds, and while it didn’t mean they were safe, she liked their odds better now they had some serious backup.

Just like that, the shots stopped. However, Clayton didn’t. He hurried to the front door and looked out. Lenora couldn’t see what immediately caught his attention, but she clearly heard his profanity.

“Stay put,” Clayton warned all of them.

“You can’t go out there,” Lenora warned him right back.

“I can’t let him get away.”

Clayton spared her a glance from over his shoulder, and she saw the warning repeated in his expression. He didn’t want her trying to help, and even though that was exactly what she wanted to do, Lenora had to concede that someone needed to stay inside with the others. At least until Clayton’s brothers managed to make their way to the house.

Clayton barreled onto the porch, slamming the door behind him, and she heard him start running. She also heard something else.

A shot.

Probably not Clayton’s, either, because this one sounded farther away from the house than he probably was. That meant someone could have shot at him. She couldn’t quite choke back the fear that slammed through her.

Mercy, how had things come to this?

“Clayton’s gonna get killed,” Kirby mumbled. “Give me that gun so I can help.”

The man could barely stand, so Lenora doubted he could get off a decent shot. But she could. “I’ve had training,” she said to him. “And I’ve saved Clayton before.”

Of course, it was possible she’d created the danger that required him to be saved in the diner, but that was guilt she’d have to deal with another time. For now, she needed to focus on the gunfight going on just on the other side of the front door.

Staying low, Lenora scrambled across the entry and levered herself up slightly so she could look out one of the sidelight windows. She wasn’t sure what she would see, but she immediately spotted Clayton.

Just as he threw himself to the side of his truck.

It wasn’t a second too soon, because a bullet slammed into the side of the vehicle.

That put her heart in her throat, and she’d never felt more helpless in her life.

The shooter darted out of the line of fire, too, and landed behind a tree. He was a white male, mid-thirties, wearing dark clothes. Lenora tried to commit everything about him to memory in case the guy got away.

He was armed with what appeared to be a Glock long-range pistol. Definitely not an amateur’s weapon. She was almost positive he was one of the same men who’d attacked the church.

A dozen bad possibilities went through her mind, and she replayed both shootings, especially the one at the diner. More than anything she wanted to help Clayton, but she couldn’t risk going out there. After all, there was a second gunman, and if he made his way into the house, Kirby, Stella and the nurse were sitting ducks.

So Lenora prayed. Waited. Watched.

Clayton levered himself up from the ground, and in the same motion, he took aim. So did the gunman, who moved out from the cover of the tree.

Both men fired.

She couldn’t tell who got off a shot first, but Lenora soon saw the results. Their attacker crumpled into a heap on the ground.

Lenora didn’t release the breath she’d been holding, didn’t stop praying. Until Clayton got to his feet. He was all right, thank God. The gunman had missed him.

“The other one took off,” Cutter shouted. “He’s already hightailed it over the fence.”

Clayton looked around and spotted Dallas and Wyatt hurrying on foot toward them. “Go after him,” he instructed his brothers.

He didn’t follow the two. Instead, Clayton ran to the fallen man and touched his fingers to his neck.

“We need to get him to the hospital now,” she heard him tell Cutter. “I want to keep him alive so he can tell us why the hell this just happened.”