Boone's voice was tense but steady. “We’re already headed that way. Tanner called in. He said the shooter’s in trees, probably on the ridge above the spruce grove by the fence. My men are on it. They’ll scout every inch of the damn ranch, Trace. Fuck, I’m sorry. We had no alert that anyone had crossed the fences. We’ll handle tracking him. You take care of your girl.”
A small part of him relaxed, knowing Boone had called in his men. Tanner needed backup. How his twin had known they needed help, he couldn’t guess.
Pushing those thoughts aside, he turned to Kip. She still sat exactly where he’d placed her. Knowing she needed him, he stillpaused to quiet the rage boiling inside him. He’d let that out later, when he was with his brothers.
Kip was trembling like a leaf. She had her arms wrapped around herself, either for protection or comfort. Goldie sat beside her, paw on Kip’s knee, whining in sympathy. He needed to move her closer to the fire.
Fuck! He was going to kill whoever had shot at his little girl, but first, he was going to toy with them. Veterinary school never intended for him to use the skills they’d taught him in the way he planned.
He knelt in front of her and ran his hand through her tangled hair. “Foxy, are you hurt? Lie back and let me check you, babygirl. Here, put your feet up on this chair.”
“No.” Her voice sounded more like a squeak. She was in shock, but she continued. “I, I think w-we lost the Chri-christmas tree. W-we need to go back and, um… and get it so everyone isn’t disappointed.” She tried to sit up. “The tree is?—”
“Foxy! I’ll get Tanner to take care of the tree. Right now, we’re going to take care of you.”
She continued to struggle, her movements growing more and more frantic. He pulled her into his lap. Fighting to get free, she pounded his chest with her tiny fists. He let her, knowing she needed to get it out. Finally, she collapsed toward him and sobbed. “Why can’t they just leave me alone?”
“Foxy, you’re in shock. Try to take some deep breaths for me. I’ve got you, little fox.” When her breathing slowed, he said, “That’s my girl. Daddy’s gonna take care of everything.” Her breaths still hitched, but at least she’d stopped crying.
Fuck! This was all his fault. What had he been thinking going that close to the border of the ranch? If she’d been a tiny bit to the right against that aspen, he’d have lost her. Damn it! That was too close a call, and he was to blame.
She burrowed her face further into him. Her tears and themelting snow had dampened his shirt, but she didn’t seem to notice. He held her, stroking her hair, rocking her, unsure if he was doing it more for her or himself.
Sniffing, she looked up at him. “Daddy, did we pass a bear on the way to the cabin?”
Close enough.
“No, babygirl, that was Dodger. We met Tanner, too. He was on a four-wheeler right behind Dodger.”
“Dodger?” she said. “What was he doing there?”
“I don’t know, little fox. But somehow, I think he came to help.”
It didn’t make any sense, but he had no other answer. Because it looked like Dodger had led Tanner right to them. However it had happened, he was thankful.
Kip sniffled in his arms, but Trace couldn’t turn off his brain. Putting Dodger aside, the shooter had to have been Rios’s errand boy. When Boone had said the guy was sniffing around, he hadn’t thought the asshole could getthisclose. With a fucking rifle.
Too lost in his thoughts to notice what he was doing, he tightened his arms to the point Kips cried out. “Shit. Sorry, little fox. Daddy didn’t mean to hug you too tight.
He needed to get a damn grip, but his brain kept running “nobody shoots at my girl… nobody.” Like some B-flick gangster movie from the 1950s.
Still trembling in his arms, she asked, “What happens now?”
“Now?” His growl had her pulling back, but he couldn’t rein it in. “What happens now is Boone and the Wild Men tear the ridge apart. Then the ranch. Then the town. Then wherever it takes for them to find the guy who tried to shoot you. What happens now is we lock the lodge down tighter than Fort Knox to keep you safe. And when we find him...” He didn’t finish that thought because she didn’t need to know the plans he had for that guy.
Engines rumbled outside. Trace grabbed his rifle and ran to the door. He opened a round latch in the middle of the door at eyelevel and looked through the small hole behind it. Tanner, Boone, and Chance stood there, the Wild Men at Boone’s back.
Trace cracked the door, rifle ready, just in case. He wasn’t about to be caught off guard again. Before he could stop her, Kip jumped up and ran to the window, peering out through the frosted window as Boone’s men fanned out, wielding flashlights like swords.
Tanner headed to the cabin, rifle pointed toward the ground.
He slammed into Trace, pulling him in for a one-armed hug. “You all right?”
“Fuck no. Am I supposed to be?”
Tanner answered in a voice as hard as Trace’s. “Fuck no.”
They stepped inside the cabin, Trace heading straight for his woman, who needed a briefing on safety protocols. Especially the one about not plastering herself against a window with an active shooter on the loose. “I want you sitting in this chair while I talk with Tanner, little girl. Do not move without permission.”
