Page 58 of Steers and Stowaways
At best, Tucker might be able to create a distraction to give the Lonestar Security team time to react and put up a fight. As his fast-dwindling options swam through his mind, Gil gave him a slight head shake. It was such a small gesture that Tucker almost missed it. If it was Gil’s attempt to be reassuring, it wasn’t working.
The game was over. The good guys were about to suffer a few more losses.
Tucker met the gaze of his bride-to-be one last time, silently bidding her goodbye.
I love you, Mal. I love you more than I thought it was possible to love another person. What little time we had together was enough. You were enough.
Her face paled at what she read in his gaze, and tears started rolling down her face.
His heart clenched beneath his ribs. He hadn’t intended to make her weep.
A collective awww rose from their audience, most of whom didn’t know what was coming.
Tears burned Tucker’s eyes, too, clouding his vision as Gray raised his pistol and trained it…not at Tucker like he’d expected, but at his bride!
“Nooooo!” Tucker heard Chip’s frantic scream as he and the lanky teenager lunged in unison toward Mallory.
A single gunshot went off.
The church erupted in cries of terror. Some guests hit the floor. Others ran for the exits.
Mallory stood in the middle of the aisle, clinging uncertainly to Gil’s arm. She took a stumbling step toward Tucker and slumped forward into his embrace.
“Mal!” Horror filled him as he caught her. “Ambulance,” he hollered, though it was doubtful anyone could hear him above the chaos. “Someone call an ambulance!” He lowered her gently to the floor, afraid to look at the front of her dress.
As a trained lawman, however, he couldn’t stop himself. All he saw, though, was cream-colored velvet clinging to her boyishly slender frame. He stared blankly at the fabric, wondering where the blood was. Maybe he couldn’t see it, because he’d already passed out from grief. Or maybe he was dead, too, from a bullet he’d never felt.
He watched dazedly as her eyelids fluttered against her cheeks and opened. Her beautiful brown eyes were clear and focused as they settled on his face. Then she reached for him.
With a hoarse cry, he gathered her close. She was uninjured. He didn’t know how or why, only that the bullet must have missed her.
She was laughing and crying at the same time. “I’m okay,” she wept against his throat. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” He sent a wild glance around the room and discovered a lone figure stretched out in the aisle. It was Gray. Tucker quickly adjusted his position, using his shoulders to shield Mallory from his ex-partner’s motionless body.
Chip crawled their way, looking close to throwing up. “Is she?—?”
“She’s fine.” Tucker loosened his arms around Mallory so the kid could see for himself that she was unharmed.
“Chip!” She fluttered a hand at him.
He clung to it, right up to the point he was placed in handcuffs and led away.
“This isn’t over,” she called brokenly to him. “I promise.”
“I’m holding you to it,” Martina declared tearfully as she and Dex were led up the aisle in handcuffs. Gray was rolled away on a stretcher and loaded into an ambulance.
Pete Flournoy appeared and squatted his stocky frame beside Tucker and Mallory. “My deepest apologies, Agent Pratt, for the timing of our sting operation, but we needed you as bait to bring that scoundrel down. The bonus I’m putting you in for…eh, maybe we should call it a late wedding gift now that you’ve turned in your resignation.”
Holding Mallory was the only reason Tucker didn’t take a swing at the smug regional manager. “You still owe me,” he growled.
“Sure. Anything,” Pete returned merrily. “Not only is it your wedding day, it’s almost Christmas.”
“We want Daniel Silva remanded in our custody,” Tucker declared firmly. “I don’t care how many favors you have to call in or how much paperwork we have to sign toget Evans Ranch officially recognized as a work-release program.”
“Done!” Pete stood and dusted the knees of his pine-green suit. His white dress shirt, red-and-white striped tie, and snowy beard made him look like a dressed-up version of Santa.
He gestured imperiously toward the front of the nearly empty sanctuary. “Again, I apologize for the mess, but the agent presiding over your wedding ceremony is, in fact, an ordained minister. So, if you’d like to go on and exchange your vows…”
