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“Lavender.”

The next morning, Mac arrived at Watchdog extra early, hoping to give Jodie the tin of butter tarts before anyone else could see him and start asking questions.

The reception desk was empty.

He chastised himself for not calling Jodie the night before.

Maybe it wasn’t just a sprain. Maybe it was a break. Maybe she was in too much pain to even come in. I should have swung by her house and checked on her, made sure she was okay.

He set the tin down on the desk, and that’s when he noticed her favorite coffee mug sitting half-full beside the keyboard.

So she is here.

His heart sped up. She’s probably in the kennels, checking on the dogs. And here I am, standing around, looking like an idiot waiting for her to come back.

Torn between waiting and going to find her—and feeling a little like some lovesick puppy trailing after her—Mac finally gave up, left the tin on her desk, and headed through the second door at the opposite end of the reception area into the offices.

Kyle was waiting at the end of the hall, Camo at his side. The moment he spotted Mac, he raised a hand and started toward him.

Mac smiled back. “Hey, Boss.”

“Just the man I wanted to see,” Kyle said. “You’ve got someone training on the range this morning.”

“Really? I didn’t see anyone on the schedule yesterday.”

“Affirmative. This one’s a drop-in. But an important one. I expect you to treat her like a VIP.” Kyle grinned and winked at Mac, then headed for his office, Camo trotting beside him.

“Absolutely,” Mac called after him.

He headed for his own desk to drop a few things off. It wasn’t unusual for a woman to come in to Watchdog for gun training. A smaller frame put a woman at a real disadvantage against someone bigger and stronger. Get her properly trained, and a gun leveled that out fast. Mac was only too happy to even the playing field.

He headed for the range, but not before he swung by the kennels, just to take a quick peek for Jodie.

No sign of her.

As he made his way down the path, through the field toward the open range, he realized he hadn’t seen any unfamiliar cars in the parking lot. He wondered if maybe it was a woman they were protecting in one of the safe houses the way Maren and Juniper had been. Kyle had been awfully vague, which was unusual for him.

What the heck is going on?

That’s when he made out a figure at the far end of the range. A very familiar, very attractive one.

Jodie.

FIVE

Jodie adjusted the sling on the rifle case and tried not to limp as she crossed the last few yards to Watchdog’s outdoor range.

Her ankle was improving, but apparently healing did not mean forgetting she’d injured it every time she took a step. The lace-up brace fit well enough, and the swelling had gone down considerably since Saturday. Still, she’d been careful coming down the dirt and gravel path.

Careful.

Jodie hated how much she’d come to dislike that word.

She set her gym bag and rifle case on the bench beneath the covered firing line, then checked the range out of habit even though she knew she was alone. The sun hadn’t cleared the tall pine and evergreens yet, leaving most of the range in cool shadow. By afternoon, the range would be baking, but right now the air still carried some of the chill left over from the night.

Perfect.

She unzipped the case and looked at the rifle inside. It had been a while since she’d handled it regularly, not since she’d left Montana, unless she counted the occasional familiarization day at Watchdog, and she didn’t. Growing up, rifles had simply been part of ranch life. She’d learned gun safety almost as early as she’d learned not to walk up behind a horse and spook it.