THREE

      That night Bryce had dinner with Sierra as planned, in spite of the events of the afternoon. In spite of Raul’s attack on her in broad daylight. The guy had no fear.

      That alone had shaken Bryce to his core, though he tried to hide that fact from Sierra. He’d also tried to dissuade her from dinner at the café.

      “I won’t let him ruin my life here,” she’d said.

      After chasing after Raul and failing to capture him, Bryce had found Sierra in her kitchen, calming her nerves by petting Samson.

      And now here they sat across from each other in a booth, trying to pretend everything was normal. Trying, and failing.

      He’d been relieved when the waiter took their barely eaten food away. Neither of them had much of an appetite, and in that way, Raul was succeeding in ruining her life, as she put it.

      Add to that, here in the café, they were probably too exposed.

      “I’ll see you back home,” he said. Maybe if he stuck close to her Raul wouldn’t be so bold. And maybe law enforcement had chased him far from here after today. In the meantime, he’d seen an increase in state law enforcement in town, adding to the county sheriff’s meager presence. Sierra was as well protected as she could be.

      But until he heard that the criminal had been caught, he would remain on high alert.

      Nodding her agreement, she eased from the booth. “I’ll need to take Samson for a walk. Want to come?”

      “Of course. I wouldn’t mind spending more time with him.” He hitched a grin. “Oh, okay, and you too.”

      He kept the conversation light, but neither of them was feeling it. The heaviness of Raul’s escape and pursuit of Sierra was pulling them both down.

      “You know, walking Samson could be a problem if Raul is still here in town.” Walking a dog was one of those daily routines that tended to follow a predictable pattern—and that could be dangerous, even if the dog was a massive K-9 mountain search dog.

      “It’s not like it can be helped.” Her eyes glistened in the low lighting of the café. “Samson has to be walked.”

      “Maybe I can do that for you instead.”

      She shook her head. “I won’t put you in danger like that.”

      He knew, like him, she hoped it would be over soon.

      Sierra paused at the door to thank Miguel, the café owner. The man’s smile and warm gaze told Bryce that he was interested in Sierra. Bryce swallowed the shard of jealousy that surged up his throat. Then he escorted her across the street and through the store. Samson’s deep throaty bark could be heard through the walls.

      “It’s easier to go through the store than to walk all the way around the building and storefronts, through the alley and then back around, especially when the snow can get too deep and isn’t always plowed or shoveled. It’s a weird setup, I know. But living at the back of the store is super convenient for Dad.”

      In the living room, her father sat in a recliner and flicked through television programs.

      Bryce peered through the blinds at the dark woods. The light coming from the windows chased away few shadows. “It’s convenient, true, but it certainly isn’t the best setup for your current situation.”

      Sierra grabbed the leash off the hook. “Good thing I’ve got my K-9 and my handgun.”

      Right. Good thing. “Better keep the gun with you at all times then.” She certainly hadn’t had it with her today.

      She nodded, but didn’t acknowledge his comment any further, turning to her father instead. “How was dinner?” she asked. To Bryce, she said, “He insisted on warming up leftovers—fried chicken tenders and green beans—in the microwave.”

      “Probably better than what you ate at that restaurant.” Her father chuckled.

      “Right. My cooking isn’t the best, I know, Dad. But the café’s food is definitely better.” Sierra attached the leash to Samson’s collar—more a formality than an actual restraint, due to Samson’s size.

      She started to open the back door. Bryce touched her arm and leaned in to whisper. “I think it’s a good idea to avoid going out this back way for the foreseeable future.” He wouldn’t say more in front of Sierra’s father. He wasn’t sure how much she had shared with the man.

      She frowned and nodded. “What was I thinking? You’re right.”

      She led Bryce and Samson back through the storefront. She unlocked and then once again locked the door. Anxiety settled in his stomach. He shoved through the deepening snow and a snow berm to get to the plowed street. “I’ll be here first thing in the morning to shovel this away so customers can get to you.”

      “It’s a problem, to be sure.”

      Snowflakes coated them both but being with Sierra seemed to add warmth to Bryce’s layers, despite the cold dread that coursed through him.

      As they walked, keeping to the freshly plowed street as opposed to the un-shoveled sidewalk, he didn’t want to break the silence but he needed to say the words. “Samson is a deterrent, but be cautious even when you’re out walking him. His protection isn’t foolproof.”

      “And yours is?” She arched her brow again.

      He almost smiled at that—he’d missed seeing her feistiness on a regular basis.

      “You know what I mean,” he said. Someone bent on harming her could shoot Samson and then Sierra too.

      “I didn’t thank you for today. You distracted Raul, pulling his attention from me and then he ran from you. Not me. You. If you hadn’t been there maybe I could have won the fight, but I can’t be sure. Just like before, you were there in time, Bryce. I owe you. But today drove home that you’re putting yourself in danger by being here.” Sierra turned to him, her breath puffing out white clouds. Snowflakes clung to her lashes.

      “Don’t tell me that you’re worried about me?” Okay, that was just plain wrong—it sounded like he was asking her to say how much he meant to her. He wasn’t going to flirt with her.

      Sierra didn’t answer.

      That’s because she probably knew he didn’t want to know the real answer. Either way. He ignored the painful memories of their past and his attraction to her. Samson’s low growl drew his attention to the animal and then the woods just beyond the line of buildings. He had suspected those woods were going to be a problem.

      The beast continued his growl then barked.

      “Easy, Samson,” she said.

      “Can you control him?” Bryce asked.

      “Warten!” She commanded Samson to wait.

      Sierra had used German words