“All good?” he asks.
I nod. “As good as it can be.”
This was just the reminder I needed that I have more important priorities than my love life. People who need me and count on me to provide for them. As much as I want that withClancy, I don’t have the time or energy to compete with the demons haunting this overprotective ex-military cowboy.
Chapter Twelve
Clancy
It’s clearer than the blue sky above Emerson’s pulling away. Not just putting physical distance between us but mentally I can sense the shift in her as if she’s putting up walls. I shouldn’t be surprised and I have absolutely no right to be disappointed, especially when I flat out told her there was never going to be more between us.
It doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt like hell. But better the sting of discomfort now rather than the unbearable, debilitating pain later when she realizes how messed up I really am. Maybe if I keep telling myself this, I’ll finally start to believe it.
I watch as she jots notes and takes measurements and samples at yet another location on the thousands of acres of this parcel. The shallow arroyo is carved into the ground after millions of years of wind and water cutting into and eroding the earth. Layer upon layers of sediment exposed to tell the story of how the land came to be. I can see how discovering those stories draws her in.
I force myself to look away, my gaze scanning the surrounding landscape. I need to get my head in the game. She’s an asset I’m supposed to be protecting, not a woman to pine after. It’ll be best if I take a page from her book and erect a wall to keep her at arms’ length. Keeping distance between us preserves both of us, especially her.
Snorting to myself at my delusion, I shake my head. I’m so incredibly fucked, because we haven’t even parted ways yet and my heart already feels as if it’s being ripped from my chest.
Movement has me stopping my sweep. Examining the area by some oversized shrubs, I attempt to discern what caught my attention. I swear I saw branches swaying. It could’ve been a bird, but I didn’t see any in the air nearby. My hand rests on my Glock in its shoulder holster as I wait.
After several minutes with no other movement, I chalk it up to the breeze or an animal I missed. The unease sticks with me though, and I proceed to close the distance between myself and Emerson. She’ll just have to deal with having me in her pocket for the time being.
“How much longer do you think you’ll be here?” I question as she stands from the squat she was in.
She places her hands on her lower back, arching it to stretch while letting out a groan. My eyes narrow. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she’s doing it on purpose. The sound has my dick twitching. The movement has her tits straining against the fabric of her shirt, pushing the buttons to their limits. My mouth waters as I secretly hope for just that to happen.
When she’s done with her little show, she glances around, pursing her lips to the left while twirling her thumb ring. “I probably have another half hour or so here.”
“Okay.” I nod, noting the time on my watch.
A crack echoes through the air as rock ricochets off the gully walls. Reflex has the heavy weight of my gun in my hand before acomplete thought goes through it. “Get back, take cover,” I yell at Emerson, tipping my head toward the bowels of the arroyo as I crouch and whirl toward the vast terrain searching for where the shot came from.
Keeping down, I shuffle toward a nearby boulder as several more shots fly, spitting debris into the air. From where the shots are hitting, there has to be multiple shooters spread out, but they apparently couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn from the potshots they’re taking.
I don’t love leaving Emerson on her own, but she should be protected by the walls and boulders to shelter behind. There’s a break in the shooting, and I wait with bated breath to see what they’ll do next. I toss my cowboy hat off and dare a peek around the boulder I’m behind.
The quick look reveals two men moving swiftly toward my position, one from the north and one from the south. I duck back down before they see me, which, since there are no shots, I think is successful. I wait a few breaths while keeping track of how far they’ll have made it in that time. This time when I pop out I’m ready, firing as soon as I’m clear at the man closing in from the south since he’s closer.
Unlike these obvious amateurs, my shot rings true, hitting him mass center, and the man drops where he is. As soon as the bullet leaves my gun, I’m swinging toward the other man’s location only to come up empty. Cursing, I duck back behind the boulder.
Listening intently, I try to determine where the other man might have gone. Hearing nothing, I risk another look, arms extended ready to shoot. This time I catch him darting from his hiding place. I don’t think twice before pulling the trigger, my shot once again dead on, and the second man is neutralized.
I hold my position for several more breaths as I scan the horizon looking for any other possible tangos, but none appear.I need to check the men and confirm they’re no longer a threat, but the urgency to check on Emerson has me shuffling backwards as I keep an eye on the area in front of me.
“Emerson? You good?” I holler over my shoulder. The lack of response has bile rising in my esophagus faster than a rocket shooting into space. “Emerson?”
I turn and run when I’m met with silence. Unsure of where she took cover, I curse the time it takes searching each possible hiding place. My stomach is in my boots. I breathe deeply through my nose, using willpower alone to keep from retching as I come up empty.
After what feels like an eternity but in reality is more like twenty seconds, I see her hiking boots sticking out from behind a boulder. My heart stops beating completely when I find her splayed out on the ground. Her pale blonde hair is now completely red with blood. I fall to my knees beside her, my fingers sliding through the slick mess on her neck as I pray to a God I no longer believe in that she too hasn’t been taken from me.
I slump with relief when I find a pulse. It’s weak and thready, but it’s there, still working to keep her alive despite the amount of blood. I search for the wound responsible for the mess. All I can find is a gash on her temple. Ripping my shirt off, I use it to apply pressure.
With my other hand, I pull her sat phone from her vest pocket. I punch in Gray’s number, putting it on speakerphone before reaching for her GPS while the call connects.
“Calhoun.”
“It’s Clancy. I need a medivac to this location.” I rattle off the coordinates. “We were shot at. I’m not positive what happened, but Emerson’s unconscious and has a head wound. There’s a shit ton of blood.”
