Colton Cowboy Hideout. Carla Cassidy

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Colton Cowboy Hideout - Carla Cassidy


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sure he’s the one who made them.”

      “Then let’s see if we can dig up an old watch,” he replied.

      They hadn’t quite reached the front of the tree when a man stepped out from behind it, a gun in his hand.

      Josie released a sharp yelp of surprise and Tanner tightened his grip on the shovel. What in the hell was going on? Did this man have something to do with whatever had happened to Eldridge?

      “Josie Colton,” he said, his thin lips twisting into a sneer. “I knew if I tailed you long enough you’d lead me to the watch. I’ve been watching you for days.”

      “Who are you?” Josie asked.

      “That’s for me to know and you not to find out,” he replied. “Now, about that watch...”

      “What watch?” she replied. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her voice held a tremor that belied her calm demeanor.

      Tanner didn’t move a muscle although his brain fired off in a dozen different directions. The man had called her by name, so this obviously had nothing to do with Eldridge.

      Why would a man with a gun know about a watch wanted for sentimental reasons? What hadn’t Josie told him? Was it possible to unarm the man without anyone getting hurt?

      “Don’t play dumb with me, girly.” The man raised a hand to sweep a lank of oily dark hair out of his eyes. “Your daddy spent years in prison bragging about how he was going to be buried with that cheap watch and then nobody would ever find the map to all the money from those old bank heists.” He took a step toward them. “Now, tell me where that watch is. I want that map.”

      Adrenaline pumped through Tanner. He certainly didn’t know anything about old bank robberies, but a sick danger snapped in the air.

      A look of deadly menace radiated outward from the gunman’s dark, beady eyes. The gun was steady in his hands and Tanner’s chest constricted.

      He tightened his grip on the shovel, calculated the distance between himself and the gunman’s arm and then he swung. The end of the shovel connected. The gun fell from the man’s grasp, but not before he fired off a shot.

      The woods exploded with sound—the boom of the gun, a flutter of bird wings overhead as they flew out of the treetops and Josie’s scream of unmistakable pain.

       Chapter 3

      Pain seared through Josie’s upper arm. She grasped it and warm blood seeped through her fingers. At the same time the man picked up his gun from the ground and then turned and ran, quickly disappearing into the thicket.

      Tanner dropped the shovel and his hat fell off his head as he raced to her side. Josie’s brain fogged with shock and the stinging agony of her injury.

      “Here, take this.” Tanner quickly pulled his T-shirt over his head, exposing lean muscle and taut abs. He thrust the shirt into her hand. “Press it against your wound. We need to get back to the truck and get you some medical help.” His urgent tone cleared some of the fog from Josie’s head.

      Help. Yes, she needed help, although some of the excruciating sting had already started to abate. Still, she’d been shot. She’d been shot! The thought momentarily weakened her knees.

      Tanner bent down and grabbed the shovel and his hat. Then with narrowed eyes he scanned the area. “Let’s get out of here,” he said urgently.

      As they headed back to the truck Tanner remained vigilant, looking both behind them and around the trees surrounding them even though his shovel would be of little use against another flying bullet.

      They didn’t speak and Josie heard nothing to indicate they were being tracked, but then she hadn’t heard anything before the man had leaped out from behind the oak tree.

      The back of her throat threatened to close off and tremors filled her as a chill gripped her very soul. Jeez, she’d been shot. The creepy-crawly feeling she’d had for the last couple of weeks of somebody following her hadn’t just been her imagination. There had been somebody following her...watching her.

      Who was the man? Where had he come from? Apparently he’d followed her all the way from Granite Gulch and she hadn’t even known it.

      She stumbled across the ground, inwardly screaming. Once again her father was responsible for chaos and danger...a danger she’d brought here to Tanner.

      What if he’d been shot? What if he’d been killed? His daughters would have probably wound up in foster care, and the foster-care system had been responsible for Josie needing to go into the witness protection program for so many years.

      Who was the man? The question played over and over again in her mind. Was he one of her father’s old buddies? How had he known she would lead him to the watch? If Tanner hadn’t attacked first, would the man have shot them both if she hadn’t produced the watch? Oh, God, what a mess.

      By the time they reached the truck, her frantic heartbeat had begun to slow. Tanner helped her into the passenger seat and then he got behind the wheel and started the engine with a roar.

      “Are you losing a lot of blood? Are you keeping pressure on the wound? Do you feel like you’re going to pass out?” The questions fired out of him as the truck bumped across the land at what felt like a breakneck speed.

      “No, I’m not going to pass out.” She pulled the T-shirt away from her arm. Blood. Bright red blood, but not as much as she’d expected. “I think the bullet just grazed me.” She returned pressure on the wound.

      “Hopefully Troy is still at the house. We need to report this.”

      “No!” She straightened up in the seat and shot him a frantic glance. “Please, don’t do that.” He cast her a quick frown and she continued, “He can’t do anything about this. I’ll explain everything to you when we get back to the house. Just please don’t get the sheriff involved in this.”

      He made no reply.

      The drive back to the house seemed to take forever. Tears pressed hot behind her eyes. The tears weren’t for her. She never cried for herself.

      The emotion was the result of the close call they’d just had and because Tanner could have been killed because of her. He was just an innocent bystander thrust into the disaster of her life. He had nothing to do with her, her father, the watch or the danger that had come out of nowhere.

      When they reached the house Tanner parked next to the barn where they’d originally started from, and they both got out of the vehicle.

      “Let’s get you into my suite, where I can take a look at your arm and see if you need real medical care,” he said.

      Thankfully they managed to make it to his suite without encountering anyone else. Once there he unlocked the door and gestured her inside.

      Brianna stepped out of the nursery, took one look at the bloody T-shirt Josie held against her upper arm and turned pale. “Oh, my God, what’s happened? How did she get hurt? Did you hurt her?”

      “No, I didn’t hurt her,” Tanner replied with exasperation in his voice. “Brianna, take the girls to the dining room for lunch,” he added curtly.

      Lunch? Was it just now noon? It felt as if an entire lifetime had passed since she’d pulled up to the front gates to meet Eldridge and his family.

      Tanner led her through the master bedroom and into an adjoining bathroom, where he motioned her to have a seat on the commode. He disappeared for a moment and then returned wearing a navy blue short-sleeved pullover shirt.

      She sank down, her body once again trembling uncontrollably. Tanner gently pulled the T-shirt from her grasp and released a sigh of obvious relief. “It’s already stopped bleeding and I don’t think there’s a bullet in your arm.” He


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