“Bryce!” Sierra shouted. Fear coursed through her.

      He’d been shot. Bryce stumbled back. Then grabbed his upper arm. He lifted his bloody hand to stare at the wound. “It’s just a graze. I’m all right.”

      “How do you know that? You can’t tell by looking at the blood on your hand.”

      He moved his arm, though with a grimace. “See? It’s just a graze.” They moved out of harm’s way and he peered around the vehicle, his weapon at the ready.

      “Well, the sheriff knows where we are, someone should be here soon.” Sierra’s voice shook.

      “Stay here with Samson. You’re not going with me. Raul wants you dead, remember? I don’t need to worry about you or Samson getting shot.”

      Oh, that was a low blow. Bryce knew she would want to protect Samson.

      “Does he have a command for guarding you?” Bryce asked.

      “Of course he does. I’ll be fine. I just need you to be safe too, Bryce.”

      Wind whipped around the vehicles and sliced through her like a frozen knife, and of course—the snow had to pick up.

      And just like that, Bryce disappeared around the vehicle and ran across the street.

       Grrrrr!

      Sierra got on her cell again for dispatch. “Where’s the sheriff? Is he on his way? Or a deputy or something. One of those state officers. Bryce is chasing after the shooter.”

      “Aren’t you a deputy?”

      “That’s beside the point. I don’t want to put Samson at more risk from a bullet by chasing after the shooter.” She didn’t use him as anything but a SAR dog. And sure, if someone broke into her home with intentions to harm her, then Samson was there to guard her, but that didn’t mean she’d deliberately put him in harm’s way. And yet, it didn’t sit right to let Bryce face whoever was out there by himself. Apprehension warred inside—Sierra wasn’t sure if she was doing the right thing.

      “Sheriff’s on his way.”

      “Okay. Tell him to hurry.”

      Samson yanked on his leash, pulled her away from the van. He wanted to follow Bryce to track and find the threat per his original K-9 training. That, and Samson was protective like any dog, wanting to neutralize the threat.

      “Sitzen!” Samson followed her command and sat next to her, his huge form giving her warmth. “Zei Brav,” she said, then again in English: “Good boy.”

      After a few seconds ticked by, Sierra tightened her hold on Samson’s leash. “Hier. Come on. I’m taking you home. I need to go after Bryce.” Just what Bryce wouldn’t want. “From now on, you’re wearing your vest when we go out.”

      Because of his enormous size, Samson had to have a special vest created for him. That had been back in Boulder—over a year earlier. Now that she thought about it, his vest probably wouldn’t fit him anymore. They made their way quickly down the street back toward the toy store. Only a few people were out visiting restaurants in this cold. The vendor exhibits still open were at the far end of town.

      No one reacted as if they’d heard gunfire.

      Samson barked again, letting her know his displeasure. He was well trained. Samson could track the shooter, but she knew what could happen to him as well.

      Raul would shoot and kill Samson.

      As for Bryce, she couldn’t control him. He was a grown man—and he was fully trained in dealing with dangerous criminals. Samson couldn’t shoot back or protect himself against a deadly bullet. She pushed through the deepening snow, heading back toward the toy store as fast as she could. And away from Bryce.

       Lord, please, please keep him safe.

      She didn’t like that he’d run off from her, and later on she would scold him for it. But only after he was back and safe. She started around to the back, which was the entrance she usually took with Samson, then remembered the woods—the same woods Bryce had probably entered to find the shooter. She’d assured him she wouldn’t take that route.

      Sierra took Samson through the front of the toy store to the apartment in back and found Dad still watching his program. He glanced up at her. “That was a short walk. Did Bryce go back to his hotel?”

      “Dad, didn’t you hear those shots fired?”

      He turned the television down. “What’d you say?”

      Right. “Never mind. I have to go back out. Keep an eye on Samson for me, okay?”

      “Always do.”

      Samson growled then barked at her. He wanted to come along. He nipped at her gloved hands as if he would keep her from going back outside without him. She pressed a kiss on his massive forehead. “You’re a good boy. You know what’s going on, don’t you?”

      Her weapon tucked away, she exited through the front, locking all doors behind her. The sheriff met her at the door. Great timing, but she nearly ran into him.

      “I got the message about the shots fired. I couldn’t find