Page 71 of Cowboy Breaking Point

The thick black smog said otherwise.

Dove hacked an explosive cough. He had to get her out faster before she inhaled more smoke. He swept her up in his arms and made a break for the back door, skidding to a dead stop when they faced a wall of flames.

“Jesus!” He whipped around, rushing for the front door.

The entire front wall of the living room was smoldering, rippling with heat.

They burst through the door and he bolted into the yard.

“Dove!” came a sharp cry from their right.

“Rain! Thank god!”

The sisters huddled together with Lark, their eyes wide with shock.

Clay took Dove from him, and he spun toward the big old house.

His ancestral home, a link to his past and one to a future for Sentry…a future with Dove.

His throat burned, probably from the noxious fumes…but from emotion too.

Faulty wiring had to be the cause of the fire, and it was his fault.

“Quaide!” Dove took a step toward him.

Something whizzed past his head—an all too familiar sound.

He whipped around, his only thought to shove Dove to the ground, but Clay beat him to it.

“Shooter!” Quaide pulled up, looking frantically for the source of that bullet.

“Get down! Take cover!” Clay yelled at the ladies. He had his weapon in hand, scanning the perimeter.

Behind Quaide, the house was well on its way to ash, but if one of those bullets clipped even a hair on anyone’s head, he was going to unleash somehellfire.

Fury barely banked in his chest as he realized maybe he was wrong about the electric being faulty. What if someone set that fire to lure them—

Another bullet winged by his shoulder this time. “Find cover!” he bellowed to the three ladies who were now crawling across the grass.

The street outside of town luckily didn’t have many neighbors, and none within immediate range. Old trees with long branches concealed places where a person could hide.

“Fan out!” Clay’s order registered in the haze of his brain, but he was already on the move.

The sudden peal of tires from the end of the street made Clay jerk around at the sound.

“Go! I’ll cover!” Quaide’s voice sent Clay bolting to his truck to give chase. With a glance at the ladies to ensure their safety, Quaide stormed across the property, sweeping the shrubs that flowered in the spring, searching for the perpetrator.

A scream of fire engines wailed in the distance. One of the front windows of the house exploded in the heat, shattered glass spraying across the ground. From the corner of his eye, he saw flames flicking out like an orange tongue.

No more bullets flew—he was pretty sure the shooter made their getaway—but he never let down his guard and continued to search the perimeter.

Quaide glanced at the two cars grouped in front of the house where the ladies were huddled together.

But they weren’t there.

* * * * *

Terror ripped through Dove’s body. The cold metal of the vehicle at her back was a small comfort when she was staring at the man she loved standing in the middle of that yard, silhouetted by the burning house.

---