Page 64 of A Dangerous Heart
She forced herself to her feet and ran for the woods.
One heartbeat passed. Two.
She heard Victor’s grunt of surprise, the sound of a metal barrel clearing leather.
Clare braced for a bullet to rip into her back. A shot rang out as she sprinted around the trunk of an old elm tree. She pressed herself against the trunk, her fingers clutching at the smoothbark. Breathless and dizzy, she squeezed her eyes shut, wheezing as she sucked in air.
She needed Isaac. Where was he?
Victor fired another shot, this one causing the dirt to fly up only inches from her feet.
“That tree ain’t gonna save you, Clare. I want my boys.”
“I’m right here, Pa. We can go,” Eli cried.
“We ain’t goin nowhere without Ben.”
Clare panted for breath, trying to calm her whirling thoughts. Could she run to the main house? Through the woods?
Victor had a horse. He’d catch up to her.
She heard his steps coming closer. Clare sprinted to another tree a few yards closer to the wagon. A third shot split the air. Branches snapped in the distance. Victor had missed. She leaned with her hand against the tree for support, her ribs aching with every breath, her ankle throbbing.
Bang!
A shot sounded from only a few feet away, rattling Clare’s chest and leaving her ears ringing.
Isaac.
His powerful fingers encircled Clare’s upper arm, pulling her farther into the woods.
“Eli’s back there!” she cried.
She saw the grim set of his lips as he hauled her down to put their backs to a giant fallen tree.
“I know.”
She pressed one hand to her middle to staunch the pain. It was only then she got a good look at his face. Isaac was shaking, and his complexion had leeched to the same shade of gray she’d seen when he’d faced the bear. The blood that had raced through her veins moments ago froze.
He was not going to be able to save them.
Isaac’s whirling thoughts were a blend of the past and the present as he huddled behind a log next to Clare.
He’d had a split-second sighting—the fury-inducing moment when Barlow had viciously kicked Clare before Isaac had faded back into the woods, rounding the cabin.
The violence of it had thrown him back in time.
Fingers of hot sunlight licked the exposed back of Isaac’s neck where his hat didn’t fully shield his skin.
But if he moved at all from where he crouched, half hidden behind an unhitched wagon and a couple of barrels out in front of the grocer’s, it might signal to Pickins that he was watching the bank.
Isaac figured Pickins would be striding down the street at any moment. He’d given a warning to the bank owner and manager, and they’d cleared everyone out from inside the bank, just in case.
Isaac was going to follow Pickins into the empty bank and arrest him. There’d be no casualties. It’d be cut and dry. Another win, though this one had been hard fought as he’d tracked Pickins across three states.
Isaac was poised on the balls of his feet when movement from behind him caught his attention.
A startled cry rang out. He knew that voice.
