Chapter Seven
Judson had no trouble hearing that gunshot. Or seeing the bullet slam into the post right next to where Addie was standing. But before he could even shout out for her to get down, another shot came toward them. Then, another, with all three coming too damn close to Addie.
Hell, they were under attack.
Judson didn’t look for the shooter. He’d do that later, when Addie was safe. If that was possible. But at the moment, any of those shots could turn out to be deadly.
He tried not to think of that and focused on what he could do.
Staying low and using the cruiser for cover as much as he could, he drew his gun and scrambled toward Addie.
Thankfully, she had already dropped down and was trying her damnedest to flatten her body against the steps, but the wood porch wasn’t going to provide much protection.
“The babies,” Addie called out.
Yeah, Judson had already considered them and everybody else in the house. It was wood, too, and the bullets could go through the walls. The shooter didn’t seem to be interested in doing that, though, since all the shots were aimed at the two of them.
That was both good and bad.
Addie and he were the targets. No doubts about that. And they could keep the gunfire and attention on them by not trying to get into the house. If they did, that’s almost certainly where the shooter would turn their attention.
A bullet skipped off the top of the cruiser, ricocheting heaven knew where and giving Judson a spike of fear and more adrenaline that he definitely didn’t need. He just had to concentrate. Had to make this work so that everybody except the shooter got out of this alive.
“Get the babies and Etta Jean into the bathroom,” Judson shouted to Rory when the deputy opened the front door.
“Bennie’s doing that now,” Rory replied, and then he had to immediately duck back inside when a shot slammed into the doorframe.
“Don’t do anything to make the bullets come your way,” Addie pleaded. “No shots in the house.”
So, Addie had worked that out as well, that they needed to keep the gunman’s attention solely on them. Judson only wished he were outside alone. That he was the sole target and that Addie was somewhere else.
Someplace safe.
More shots came, all of them hitting the porch posts. Despite the fact that the sun was setting and the light wasn’t optimal for target shooting, their attacker had a decent aim, only missing the mark by a fraction, and that’s why Judson had to move Addie now.
He caught the first part of her that he could reach, her foot. And even though it would likely give her a few bruises and scrapes, he yanked her down the steps toward him.
Not a second too soon.
Because the shooter finally got the angle right, and the next bullet slammed into the spot where Addie had just been.
Judson dragged Addie closer to the cruiser and silently cursed that she hadn’t left the door open so they could dive inside. Of course, she hadn’t known there’d be an attack. But he sure as hell should have anticipated it and done a better job of stopping her from being in harm’s way.
“Who’s doing this?” he heard her say over the loud, thick blasts.
“Don’t know yet,” he had to admit, and then Judson focused on trying to pinpoint the shooter.
He could hear the shouts of the ranch hands who’d been guarding the place, and he hoped they’d taken cover as well. Judson was positive that neither of them was firing, but the shots were coming from the area at the front of the ranch near the fence.
Near the drainage ditch, too.
But not in it.
Judson had played there plenty enough times when he was a kid to know it was deep enough to conceal a shooter, but he was pretty sure the shots weren’t specifically coming from there.
So, he waited. Listened. And all the while he prayed that he could get Addie out of this alive.
For now the best he could do was try to shield her with his body, so he rolled over her, shoving her right against the cruiser. “Get underneath it,” he ordered.
Addie’s gaze shot to his, and he saw exactly what he’d expected to see in her eyes. The fear. Yeah, it was there. But part of that fear was for him.
“You get underneath, too,” she insisted.
“I will, later. After I’ve done some things.”
That was possibly an outright lie. If they got the chance to stop or pursue the shooter, he would. But he couldn’t even start doing that until he had Addie out of the direct line of fire. Of course, a bullet could still reach her, but it would make the shooter’s job much harder.
“Later,” he repeated, and to hurry things along, Judson used his body to muscle hers beneath the cruiser.
He tore his gaze from hers. Had to. And Judson also had to shove aside the hurricane of emotions roaring through him. The fury over this SOB’s attempts to kill them. The danger the gunman had brought right to the ranch’s doorstep, putting the babies in harm’s way yet again.
Yes, he had to put all of that aside and try drowning out everything but the way the barrage of shots was slamming into the porch and cruiser.
And he finally thought he had the location.
There was an old barn just on the other side of the road, and while he couldn’t actually see anyone, he figured their attacker was perched in the hayloft, shooting through the spaces between the boards.
Plenty of room for a sniper to slip the barrel of an assault rifle through one of them and start shooting.
It wouldn’t have been hard for the gunman to get there, either, since no one lived in the house that was about fifty yards from the barn.
The elderly owner had died three years earlier, and there was a battle going on to determine ownership.
From what Judson had heard, none of those involved in the legal wranglings had visited the place in over a year.
Even though the shooter was out of range for him, Judson levered himself up enough to send a shot in the gunman’s direction. He probably missed by a mile, but at least it caused a pause in the gunfire. But only a pause. The shots started right back up again.
And that gave Judson an idea.
“Text Rory,” he told Addie. “I want him to get a message to the ranch hand by the fence. The hand needs to stay down, but if he’s able, I want him to start shooting into the barn. Have him aim high.”
That last part was a safety precaution so that someone who just happened to be driving by wouldn’t get hit by friendly fire.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Addie send the text, and Judson fired at the barn again. And again. Since that was giving him the lull he needed, he kept it up until Addie got a response.
“Rory’s texting the ranch hand now,” she relayed. “And he says backup is on the way. Two of them will be heading to the barn.”
Good. But Judson knew that backup couldn’t just come charging in. They’d have to hang back, wait for an opportunity to go after the shooter.
It wasn’t long, only a couple of seconds, before Judson heard a welcome sound: gunfire, but this time it was coming from the ranch hand. And unlike Judson, he was in firing range to put a permanent end to this SOB.
But he immediately rethought that.
If possible, he wanted the shooter alive. Alive and talking so that Addie and he would know why someone was trying to kill them.
Judson reloaded and added his own gunfire to the mix of the ranch hand’s, and as he’d hoped, the shooter stopped firing.
Maybe because some of the hand’s bullets were tearing through the old wood of the barn.
Judson still didn’t see any movement from the hayloft area, but that didn’t mean the guy had been hit.
He could be just lying low, waiting for an opening to start shooting again.
In the distance, he heard the wail of police sirens. Neither Judson nor the ranch hand stopped firing. They both kept pulling the triggers until Judson finally saw something.
A blur of motion at the back edge of the barn.
He caught just a glimpse, but it appeared to be someone dressed in dark clothes. Clothes that blended with the twilight. One thing was for certain, though.
The SOB was running.
Escaping.
And Judson had to do something about that.
“Stay put,” he warned Addie, but Judson didn’t give her a chance to respond. Definitely not a chance to try to talk him out of what he was doing.
He leaped up and took off running.
“Hold your fire,” he shouted to the ranch hand, and the man immediately stopped.
That cleared the way for Judson to pick up the pace to a sprint while he kept his gun gripped in his hand. Kept his attention on that blur of motion, too. If the man, or woman, turned around, Judson wanted to be able to take cover rather than be gunned down.
Running as fast as he could, Judson reached the road just as he saw the cruiser approaching the turn for the ranch. He paused only a second to make sure the driver, Livvy, wasn’t going to plow into him. When she slowed, Judson bolted across the road, vaulting over the pasture fence.
And he kept running.
His heart was thundering now, and his pulse was crashing in his ears, but thankfully he had yet another slam of adrenaline. The mother lode of energy that got him to the barn in no time flat.
He had to slow again, though, as he approached the barn. Slow down and keep watch in case this idiot tried to ambush him.
But he didn’t see any signs of that. No signs of the shooter, either.
Not at first, anyway. Not until Judson picked through the darkness and saw the figure racing past the house. Clearly, the shooter had gotten some adrenaline, too, because within a blink, the person was out of sight, disappearing into a cluster of trees in front of the house.
Judson got moving, racing toward the snake. He was still a good twenty yards away when he heard a different sound. Not gunfire. But an engine.
He kicked up the pace again, trying to get to the shooter, trying to stop him before he escaped.
But he was too late.
Judson caught sight of the taillights as the car sped away.