Ethan looked torn. Val knew he trusted his brother, but if Luke wasn’t there and the shooters came after her—
“You have to go,” she said. “Dirk and Pete need your help. I’ll be okay with your friend.”
Ethan’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. “Tuck knows what he’s doing. Not much chance they’ll find this place, but if they do, he can protect you till we get back.”
Ethan’s disposable started ringing. He dragged it out of his pocket and pressed it against his ear, listened, and started nodding. Val couldn’t miss the relief that swept over his face.
“We’re at Mulkey’s,” he said. “We’ll wait for you here.” He ended the call and turned toward them. “Dirk’s out safe. Pete’s on the way to the hospital. Took a bullet to the shoulder. Hit his head when he went down. He’s probably got a concussion. He’ll have to have surgery, but they think he’s going to be okay.”
Relief hit her hard and her knees went weak. She started shaking, felt Ethan’s arm go around her waist.
“Let’s get her inside,” he said. Removing the tactical vest she still wore, he guided her up the hill.
Luke strode along beside them. He was wearing camo pants, heavy leather boots, and a long-sleeved, olive-drab T-shirt. A band of bullets draped across his chest, a holster rode at his waist, and there was a knife strapped to his thigh. His hair was wet, making it look darker, though the rain had lessened to a drizzle. Luke’s jaw was set, his features iron hard.
There was nothing of the handsome, casually friendly man she had met at Ethan’s office. This man was hard through and through, a battle-trained soldier.
Val thought of the men who had attacked them at the house, remembered her insane ride behind Ethan down the hill, remembered pulling the pistol, how it had felt in her hand. She thought of Bobby Rodriguez, could almost hear the gunshots that had killed him, feel his blood sliding hotly through her hands. Her stomach rolled. For a moment, she thought she would be sick.
“You okay?” Ethan asked.
She swallowed the bile rising in her throat. She remembered something else, something important, or at least thought she did. “I just . . . I need a minute.”
Ethan didn’t hesitate, just swept her up in his arms and carried her inside the tavern. By the time he set her down at a corner table, she was feeling a little steadier.
“I’ll get her a glass of water,” Tucker Mulkey said.
“Yeah, and a brandy,” Ethan added.
“You got it.”
“And bring us a couple of beers,” Luke said as he sat down at the battered wooden table across from them. The place was old, with a long wooden bar, exposed rafters overhead. All kinds of posters covered the ceiling, beer ads, pinup girls, photos of guys kneeling next to their hunting trophies. Mounted deer heads hung on the walls.
Val forced herself to concentrate. “Did they catch them?”
Ethan shook his head. “No.”
Val gripped his hand. “While you were busy trying to keep the bike on the trail, I recognized one of the men. Not at first. He was out of place, you know? I didn’t put it together until a few minutes ago.”
His eyebrows went up. “You recognized one of the bastards who was shooting at us?”
She nodded. “Bick Gallagher. You shot him in the leg. At the time, all I could think of was getting out of there alive.”
“Yeah, me too.”
Tucker arrived carrying a tray with two mugs of beer, a glass of water, and a shot of brandy. Val watched as Ethan pulled out his phone.
“Sadie, beautiful, it’s Ethan. Thanks for saving my ass today. Mine and Val’s. Dirk’s, too.” He chuckled at something the woman said. “Yeah, yeah, I hear ya. Listen, I need you to go in, take another look at a guy named Bick Gallagher. He’s second in command at La Belle security. Val says he was one of the men shooting at us. While you’re at it, you might as well run Beau Desmond again.”
He nodded. “I know. You’ll have to go deep. Nothing shows up on the surface.” Sadie said something, and Ethan hung up the phone.
“She’s taking a second look. If there’s another Trojan horse, she’ll know how to get around it.”
Val looked at the men sitting at the table. “What are we going to do? We don’t have any clothes, nowhere to stay.”
Luke grinned. “Leave it to a woman to worry about the luxuries. Doesn’t matter if a horde of cutthroats are trying to gun her down—she wants to look good while she’s running for her life.”
Val laughed, reached over and punched him in the arm. At least he’d made her laugh when she felt more like crying.
