“Mine,” I wheezed out.
Cowboy’s eyes took on a wild, untamed glaze and shifted back to Stuart. “You sonofabitch!” His index finger curled around the trigger.
“No, d-don’t,” I whispered, my scratchy voice sounding strange even to me.
“Damn it, Anna! He tried to kill you.”
“I didn’t hurt her,” Stuart said calmly.
The death grip Cowboy held on his pistol tightened even more. “I’ve seen dozens of scars on her body that beg to differ.”
Stuart’s face twisted with something strangely resembling pain or possibly agony as his eyes darted to me. “Baby girl, we need to talk about your mother. You need to know I—”
“You’re talking to me now,” Cowboy growled, cutting off Stuart’s words. “Not her. Don’t address her. Don’t even fucking look at her.” He stood and, taking a few steps forward, fine-tuned his aim directly at my father’s head. “If you have something to say, you say it to me…and only me. Got it?”
The corner of Stuart’s mouth twitched and amusement lit his eyes.
“Keep smiling, you sick sonofabitch. I dare you.”
The overriding fury in Cowboy’s caustic voice frightened me, and a shiver ran the length of my spine. His posture stiffened and his body quivered with undeniable rage. Intense green eyes held Stuart’s as if Cowboy were waiting for the man to give him a reason to shoot him. But would Cowboy actually pull the trigger?
Several vehicles with flashing red and blue lights slowed out on the main road and turned onto the long dark driveway leading to the barn. But their howling sirens had nothing on the warning bells going off in my head.
From what I could tell, Stuart was keeping his distance and no longer posed a threat to anyone, including me. If Cowboy’s wrath unraveled any more, it was possible he would snap and do the unthinkable. Not that Stuart Nelson didn’t deserve it. He did. But I wasn’t about to let Cowboy commit murder for me. Which is exactly what he would be doing if he shot an unarmed man.
“Don’t,” I said, though it came out as barely a whisper. “Please, Cowboy.”
He didn’t even look at me. “Why not? He deserves it after what he put you through. At most, it’s justifiable homicide. He tried to kill you tonight.”
I shook my head and cleared my raw throat. “H-he didn’t. I don’t know why, but…he pulled me away from the fire.”
Cowboy paused. “Even so, if he wouldn’t have started the fire to begin with—”
“I started the fire,” I admitted.
Finally, he glanced over, his gaze meeting mine. “You set the barn on fire?” he asked, confusion slanting his lips.
Still trying to catch my breath, I nodded. “It was an accident.” I coughed so hard, I ended up gasping for my next breath.
Two Liberty County Sheriff cruisers, three fire engines, and an ambulance pulled onto the scene. An older sheriff with a mustache slid out of the car closest to me and pulled out the gun in his hip holster. He kept it lowered, but held it ready in his hand for any sign of trouble. “Cowboy, lower your weapon.”
Slowly, Cowboy brought his arm down to his side, pointing his pistol at the ground, but kept his piercing eyes on Stuart.
“Now, would someone tell me what the hell is going on here?” the sheriff asked, as if he were puzzled as to why we were all standing around watching an old barn burn to the ground.
“This man is Stuart Nelson, a convicted murderer who was recently released from prison. He’s been stalking Anna Weber, the only surviving victim of a fire this man started twenty-two years ago.”
The sheriff’s face hardened and his eyes zeroed in on me. “Is this true?”
Still coughing and feeling short of breath, I answered again with a quick nod.
The sheriff and the two deputies flanking him turned all their attention on my father. “Lie face down and put your hands behind your back.”