Dan appeared from behind his truck, service weapon drawn despite his injured arm. "Deputy Sheriff," he announced, his voice steady despite the pain that tightened the corners of his eyes. "You're both under arrest."
We secured both men with zip ties Knox pulled from his pocket—always prepared, my oldest brother. The man I'd tackled had a split lip and would have bruises from our landing, but nothing serious. Ransom's catch was bleeding from his nose, glaring daggers at us as Ransom hauled him to his feet.
"Where's Collins?" Knox demanded, standing over them with his rifle still ready.
Baseball Cap spat blood onto the ground. "How should I know? We just do what we're told."
"And what exactly were you told to do?" Dan asked, moving closer despite the blood still seeping through his shirtsleeve.
"Follow you. Rough you up a bit. Scare you off," the taller one admitted, looking less defiant than his partner. "Collins doesn't get his hands dirty. Never has."
"He sent you to kill a cop?" Knox pressed, his voice dangerous.
"Not kill," the man insisted, eyes darting between us. "Just scare. But when you started shooting—"
"You shot first," Dan corrected. "After running me off the road."
I looked at Dan's truck, really seeing the damage now. It had rolled at least once, the driver's side crumpled from impact with what was probably a tree. He'd been lucky to walk away from that, let alone defend himself afterward.
"Collins isn't here," I said, the realization hitting me with sudden clarity. "He sent these two to keep you busy."
Dan's eyes met mine, understanding dawning in them. "A distraction."
"While he does what?" Ransom asked, tightening his grip on his captive's shoulder.
The man in the baseball cap laughed then, a harsh sound with no humor in it. "You really don't get it, do you? Collins always has a backup plan."
A cold feeling settled in my stomach as I looked at Dan. These men weren't the real threat—they were just pawns. And while we'd been focused on saving Dan, the real danger was somewhere else entirely.
With Knox and Ransom handling the prisoners, I rushed to Dan's side, my heart hammering against my ribs like it wanted to break free. Up close, his wound looked worse—the sleeve of his sheriff's department polo soaked dark red from shoulder to elbow. He leaned heavily against his overturned truck, face pale beneath his tan, but his eyes were clear and alert when they met mine.
"You're hurt bad," I said, the words coming out rougher than I meant them to. My hands, these big hands that could snap branches and fell men twice my size, suddenly felt clumsy and too large as I reached for him.
"Just a graze," Dan insisted, but he didn't pull away when I knelt beside him to examine the wound. "Bullet caught me when I was getting out of the truck after the crash."
I gently rolled up his sleeve, revealing a deep furrow across his bicep where the bullet had torn through skin and muscle. Not life-threatening, but serious enough to need stitches and probably hurting like hell. The blood had slowed to a sluggish ooze, but the edges of the wound gaped open, red and angry against his skin.
"Needs cleaning," I murmured, pulling a clean bandana from my pocket. I'd carried one since I was a boy—Pa's rule for all us McKenzie boys. Never know when you might need to stop bleeding or mark a trail. "This'll hurt."
Dan nodded, bracing himself as I pressed the cloth against the wound. He sucked in a sharp breath but didn't make a sound otherwise. Tough, my deputy, too tough for his own good sometimes.
"I'm sorry," he said suddenly, his voice low enough that only I could hear. "I shouldn't have tried to handle this alone. When I saw that truck following me, I just... I couldn't lead them to you. Couldn't put you in danger because of me."
Something hot and uncomfortable rose in my chest at his words. I kept my eyes on his arm, pressing the bandana firmly against the bleeding as I gathered my thoughts.
"That wasn't your choice to make," I said finally, meeting his gaze. "Not alone."
Confusion flickered across his face. "Harlow, I was trying to protect—"
"I know what you were trying to do," I cut him off, voice steady despite the emotions churning inside me. "Same thing Ma does. Same thing Knox does. Same thing everyone's always done. Trying to keep me safe because they think I can't handle danger."
"That's not—"
"It is," I insisted, tying the bandana carefully around his arm. "And I'm tired of it. Tired of people deciding what I can handle without asking me. Tired of being protected instead of being a partner."
Dan went still under my hands, his eyes searching my face with an intensity that might have made me uncomfortable once, but not anymore. Not with him.
"Last night in the barn, what we did together..." I continued, keeping my voice low, "that wasn't just bodies feeling good. Not for me. It was choosing you. Choosing us. And partners face danger together, not by running off alone to be heroes."
