CHAPTER THREE
Luke
I haul the woman into the inn, kick the door shut, and flip the deadbolt. Ignoring the numbness in my shoulder, I scan fast. Mudroom, kitchen, a hallway beyond, and carry her through the kitchen into a short hall. No windows. I set her on her feet and finally get a real look at her.
My adrenaline is pumping, and not only from being shot.
Gray-green sort of hazel eyes lock on mine, and something hits low in my gut.
The room tilts. Blood loss, I tell myself.
Not the woman who just risked her life for mine.
She’s striking, sure, but it’s more than that.
Looking at her feels like getting shot all over again.
I shake it off.
“Stay here.” My voice comes out rough. “I need to see where he went. If he gets past me, shoot him again.”
“If you hadn’t grabbed me, I would’ve had him.”
“That Winchester holds two shells,” I counter. “You forced him into cover with the first. That bought time. Miss the second and Briggs comes out hot while you’re reloading. Shelter came first.”
Her dog is losing its mind somewhere in the house.
The woman’s doing her own staring, brows furrowing. “You’re bleeding.”
“It’s a graze. I’ll deal with it later.” It’s worse than that, but I’m vertical and still breathing, so good for now. “I’ve got to make sure we’re safe.”
“He’s bleeding too.”
I holster my gun. My right shoulder is white hot. “I got him in the ass.” Vision wavering, I slump against the wall, fighting to stay alert. “Anyone else here? Guests? Husband?”
“No. Only me.”
Relief hits harder than it should. “House secure?”
“I secured all the doors and windows when I got the alert and turned off the lights when I heard the gunshot.” She pulls out her phone and taps. “My security system is engaged.”
“You have cameras?”
She shakes her head. “Now I wish I did.”
I check my phone. No bars. “You have service?”
“Not for calls or texts. But as long as the inn has power, I’ve got Wi-Fi.” There’s a rush of awareness when her gaze meets mine again. Does she feel it too? “The fugitive’s name is Briggs?”
“Robert Briggs. Kidnapped a waitress. Planned to keep her.” I don’t soften it. “He murdered a marshal this morning.”
Color drains from her face. “I should’ve shot him in the balls.”
“Next time,” I say. Blonde strands have loosened from her braid, wind-blown and damp from snow. Nothing detracts from her gut-punch appeal. She raises a brow and I clear my throat. Focus. “What’s your name?”
“Kit O’Shea.”
Kit O’Shea. I try out her name in my head. It strikes me as strong and sweet. “Kit short for something?”
“Katarina. And yours?”
“Luke Elliott.” Pain rolls through me and I grit my teeth. The numbness didn’t last near long enough. I pull my credentials from my coat and hand them over.
She scrutinizes them carefully. “Deputy US Marshal Luke Elliott,” she murmurs.
I shouldn’t like hearing my name like that. Being shot is making me punchy.
She hands back the case and reloads the shotgun with practiced movements: break the action, pull the spent shell, seat a fresh one, and snap it closed. No hesitation.
“Take the shot if you get one,” I say. “Briggs will. He’s desperate and that makes him dangerous.”
She arches a brow. “You’re assuming I’d hesitate.”
Fair. Shaking my head to clear it, I click my shoulder mic. “Dispatch, Three-One. Officer wounded, GSW. I’m inside Falls Inn with civilian female, secure for now. Briggs is outside, unknown position. Whiteout conditions. Request status on backup.”
I don’t expect good news. A burst of static confirms it.
“Dispatch, Three-One. Repeat transmission.”
More static. Shit. The radio’s useless.
I set my jaw against the pain. Shotgun in hand, Kit reappears with a cordless phone. “Chief Beckett is on the line.”
I blink at her, then take the phone. “Thanks. Stay away from the windows.”
I ignore the eyeroll and cross the dark kitchen, phone to my ear. A blue flame flickers under a pot on the stove.
“Beck?”
“Luke, Kit says you’re hit.”
“Yeah.” His voice steadies me. “Fucker got me in the shoulder. Hurts like a bitch, but I’m functioning. He’s wounded too.”
I outline our situation. The conversation is quick and direct. I listen. Swallow. “So no backup.”
“As soon as the storm breaks, we’re coming,” he says. “For now, you’re on your own. Kit’s smart and steady as they come. You can trust her.”
Already saw that firsthand. “Good to know.”
“Check in hourly and we’ll hope the landlines hold.”
“Will do.”
I disconnect and edge toward the sink window, keeping to the side. Nothing but white. Briggs could be ten feet away and I wouldn’t see him. Dusk is coming fast. Warm as the kitchen is, I’m shaking. I need to lock this place down before I pass out.
Kit turns off the flame on the stove, then opens the door of the room with the growling dog and sets the shotgun inside. She scoops up a small beagle-mix, its tail wagging hard.
“This is Penny. Let her sniff you so she’ll settle down.”
Penny noses my hand, then leans in as I rub her head.
Kit sets her down then turns to me. “You’re done standing. Come in and lie down. I need to look at your shoulder.”
“I’m fine.”
“Marshal, you’re pale and swaying.”
I don’t move. Ice is seeping into my bones, my head feels heavy, and I’m barely holding on to consciousness. It scares the shit out of me. I can’t afford to go down. I scrub a hand over my face and lean against the doorframe.
“You have medical training?”
Her hands go to her hips. “No. But I’ve got an electric blanket, first aid supplies, and Google.”
“Christ.”
“You’re a charming man, Marshal Elliott.”
“Briggs won’t freeze out there,” I rasp. “He’ll try for shelter.” My vision is graying around the edges.
“I know.”
“You got any neighbors? Anyone else at risk?”
“The two cabins on the road are empty. It’s only us.” She nudges my hand higher on the jamb. “Hold on. I’m grabbing supplies.”
She returns minutes later and ducks under my arm, strong and steady. “Lean.”
I do. I blink rapidly. Everything’s dimming fast.
Next thing I register is a mattress under me, Kit’s face above mine, worry softening her features.
Her fingers brush my cheek. “You’re okay, Luke,” she murmurs. “I’ll take care of you.”
I try to answer, to stay conscious, but the black takes me.
No one’s taken care of me since I was a kid.
It’s the last thing I think before I drop into the bottomless void.