Her Christmas Hero: Christmas Justice / Snow Blind / Christmas at Thunder Horse Ranch

Chapter Four

Garrett pulled the Beretta from its holster and slammed through the front door of the ranch house. Laurel’s footsteps thundered behind him.

“Oh, God,” she whispered.

Molly stood about ten feet from the porch, across a clearing. Her hand reached out toward a large cougar, its long, thick tail swinging to and fro.

“Good kitty,” Molly sang out, stepping forward.

The cat crouched, hissing.

“Molly,” Garrett said, his tone firm with what his daughter had called his mean voice.

The little girl froze. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

He guessed the mean voice still worked, but the memory also returned that horrible helplessness that he never experienced when facing his own death—or even the death of another agent.

Only a child’s death could evoke the fear that seeped through his very soul.

Without hesitation, Garrett aimed his weapon at the animal, cursing inside for the animal to stop moving. As it was, it was going to be an impossible shot.

“Molly.” Garrett forced his voice to remain calm. “That’s not a kitty cat. I need you to stay very, very still, sugar. Don’t move. I’m going to shoot a gun.”

“Too loud,” Molly whimpered, shaking her head back and forth, clasping her ears with her hands and squatting down.

Damn it. She’d made herself a target. The cat hunched down on its front paws, clearly preparing to pounce. Garrett couldn’t wait. What he wouldn’t give for his father’s old Remington. He could take out the animal with one shot. A rifle was so much more accurate than a handgun at this distance.

The cat growled, opening its mouth in a show of aggression.

Molly squealed and tumbled backward, becoming a perfect target for the predator.

Garrett ran at Molly, shouting. He had to get closer. Startled, the animal shifted its focus, turning away from Molly. Garrett took four shots at the mountain lion. The big cat yowled once and bounded away, disappearing into the cover of the trees. He’d aimed the shots wide on purpose. Injuring the animal could have done more harm than good, especially if he hadn’t been able to take it down. A wounded cat could tear out Molly’s throat in seconds.

He’d played the odds.

Thankfully, the animal hadn’t gone against its nature. Garrett kept his weapon on hold, searching beyond the shrubs and piñons for the cougar. Cats were normally reclusive, avoiding humans, but they were curious as well.

“Get her,” he called to Laurel.

Behind him, she scooped Molly into her arms. The little girl sobbed. Laurel hugged her niece close. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

Garrett backed toward them, scanning the perimeter, but there was no movement beyond the tree line. He kept the Beretta in his hand and headed to the house.

“I—I want my mommy.” Molly hiccuped from Laurel’s arms. “Mommy!”

“It’s gone,” he said.

No need to take chances, though. Within seconds, he’d escorted them inside. Once they were safe, he shut and locked the door. The little escape artist had figured out the dead bolt. He’d have to secure the door another way. It had been a long time since he’d childproofed anything.

His knees shook slightly, and he grabbed the doorjamb for support. Garrett could face down at AK-47 or an Uzi without increasing his heart rate by a beat or two.

A milk-faced Laurel sank into the sofa, rocking Molly in her arms. The little girl’s cries tugged at his heart. Laurel rubbed her niece’s back, and she turned her head to Garrett.

Thank you, she mouthed.

He’d brought them here, though. He’d put Molly in danger. He should have anticipated. He knew better. Whoever said girls didn’t get into as much trouble as boys hadn’t lived with his Ella. Or Molly.

“I just wanted to play with the kitty,” she said through hiccups. “He’s the same color as my lion.”

Now that they were safe, Garrett’s breathing slowed from a quick pant. He crouched next to the sofa. “I know, Molly, but that kind of kitty doesn’t play. He’s a wild animal. No more going outside alone. Okay?”

“I want your promise, Molly,” Laurel said, her voice stern. “You can’t go outside without me or Sheriff Garrett.”

The little girl squirmed in Laurel’s arms. “Okay.”

Laurel allowed her niece to slide to the ground, but Garrett didn’t trust that look. His daughter had played the game before. He held Molly firmly by the shoulders, looking her squarely in the eyes. “Listen to me, Molly. Outside is dangerous. We’re in the woods and you could get lost. We might not find you. I want a real promise.”

Her lower lip jutted out.

“Molly.”

She let out a huge sigh. “I promise. Cross my heart, stick a nail in my eye, even if I don’t want to.”

Garrett held on to a chuckle at the little girl’s mutilation of the saying. He stuck out his hand. “Deal.”

She straightened up and placed her small hand in his. “Deal. Can I have something to eat? I’m hungry.”

Kids. Hopefully she’d been scared enough to mind him. Mulling over how he could keep Molly in the cabin, Garrett walked over to the bag of food on the table.

“Play with your stuffed lion, Molly. We’ll let you know when breakfast is ready.”

“His name is Hairy Houdini. Daddy named him after me ’cause I always disappear.” She ran off to the other room, swinging the lion in the air as if he were flying.

Laurel staggered to the kitchen table and slumped in the chair. She held her head in her hands. “Oh, God.”

“You okay?” Garrett asked after pulling a skillet from a cabinet and setting it on the stove.

“My niece was almost a midmorning snack for a mountain lion. Not really.”

“She’s something else.”

Laurel looked at the bedroom door. The little girl had an animated discussion going on with her toy. “Like nothing happened. Is that normal?”

“Kids are more resilient than we are,” Garrett said before he could stop himself.

“You’ve had experience.” Laurel folded her hands together. Quiet settled in the room, with only Molly’s chatter breaking through.

Garrett’s teeth gritted together. He wasn’t having this conversation. She didn’t need to know how he’d failed to protect his own wife and daughter. Not when he needed her to trust him.

So why did silence feel like a lie? “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said. “I need to get the rest of our supplies.” He hurried out the door without giving her time to quiz him.

Idiot. The winter chill bit through his bomber jacket. He scrambled over the rocks and made it to the SUV in record time. He was giving too much away. What was it about her that made Laurel feel so...comfortable? He couldn’t afford to like her. Emotions had no place in his world right now. Not when he was fighting an enemy that held all the cards.

He had to get back on track.

By the time he returned to the house with the last of the supplies, the crackle of bacon and a heavenly aroma filled the room.

“I found the bacon in the freezer,” she said.

Garrett’s stomach rumbled. He hadn’t eaten since last night. Without saying a word, he set the groceries on the table and started putting them away. They worked side by side, together. Too comfortably. He sliced a couple of loaves of Hondo’s homemade bread. Laurel slid one out of his hands, her touch lingering for a moment. She slathered the toast with butter and popped the slices in the broiler.

“After Molly eats, why don’t you distract her?” Garrett said, clearing his throat. “I’ll do some looking into your father.”

Laurel put down a knife and turned slowly toward him. “How long have you been out of the game?” she asked.

“What makes you think—?”

“At first glance I didn’t notice,” she said, “but I checked out the equipment a second time while you were gone. Most of it is a couple years old. You haven’t upgraded. If you were active, you’d have the latest.”

“Molly, time to eat,” Garrett called out.

He heard the slap of shoes as she raced into the room. She squealed and sat at the table. “Hairy and I are starving to death.” She dug into the bacon and toast, munching down.

“Not a topic for conversation. I get it,” Laurel said. “So, you have a favorite football team, Garrett?”

He looked over his shoulder and sighed. “Between your job and your father’s career, you have to know sharing information is a bad idea.”

“Not much choice. My father is in trouble. So am I. You may be able to help us, but you need me. I have contacts. People I trust. If we’re careful they won’t be able to trace us back here.”

“Really? Even on my outdated equipment? Did Ivy trust them, too?”

Laurel hissed at the barb, but Garrett didn’t waver.

“I won’t apologize. Right now it’s all about finding your father. And that means finishing the job your sister started. On our own.”

* * *

MIKE STRICKLAND SAT in the SUV a block down from the sheriff’s office. They’d gotten nowhere searching the man’s house. The damn town hadn’t had one 9-1-1 call the entire night.

He stroked his stubble-lined jaw. He’d been awake all night, knowing if he fell asleep and missed his chance, his life would be worth nothing.

Strickland couldn’t believe Garrett Galloway was actually acknowledged traitor Derek Bradley.

Wasn’t his fault the man had decided to take his family somewhere that day. Strickland shoved aside the prickle of regret. He’d gained the boss’s confidence with that job. And he’d stayed alive.

He’d also attached himself to the organization the boss had created. Selling guns and secrets to the highest bidder: governments, terrorist organizations, corporations—it didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered but the dollars. Loyalty didn’t mean squat, and the boss didn’t suffer fools. The stakes in the game were too high to risk compromise.

Unless Strickland killed Bradley—make that Galloway—before he saw the boss again, he’d be the next example.

A beat-up truck trundled in front of the sheriff’s office. A young deputy jumped out of his truck. He turned the doorknob, then paused.

So, the sheriff was usually in before now.

The deputy dug his keys from his pocket, inserted one into the lock and pushed the door open.

Strickland’s phone vibrated. “Tell me you have something,” he bit out to Krauss.

“Nothing. Checked out the abandoned house where we triangulated the sheriff’s cell signal. Evidence of someone there, but gone. No prints.”

“His place?”

“Nothing.”

“We’re out of options,” Strickland said. “I’m going to have a chat with the young deputy.” He ended the call, tucked his unidentifiable Glock in his holster, waited for a couple of cars to pass by and stepped out of the vehicle.

He crossed the street and slipped into the sheriff’s office.

“Deputy?”

“Can I help you, sir?”

The young man poked his head out from the back room. Strickland could take him out now and no one would have a lead to follow. He ran his hand over the weapon. “Looking for the sheriff.”

The deputy sighed. “You and me both. He’s not here yet.”

“When do you expect him back?”

The kid stiffened, finally recognizing Strickland could very well be dangerous. “I told you I don’t know. How can I help you?”

The kid shifted his stance, subtly showing his sidearm.

Strickland flashed his identification badge. “Federal business,” he commented. “Contact him.”

The deputy’s face paled. “Of course.” He stumbled to the desk and dialed a number. After thirty seconds his face fell. “Sheriff, a federal agent is here. He needs to see you—”

Strickland grabbed the phone. He lifted the receiver and punched in the erase code. “I didn’t tell you to leave a message. Can’t risk it.”

The deputy stood up, his gaze narrowed, suspicious. “Why are you here?”

“Your sheriff might not be who he says he is, Deputy. I’m here to find out exactly who Garrett Galloway is.”

“With all due respect, no way, sir. Sheriff Galloway is the real deal.”

“You think so, do you? He ever talk about his past? He ever tell you anything about where he came from?”

“Well, no, but still, he’s a good sheriff. Everyone says so.”

“Maybe now. My agency has reason to believe he’s behind a lot of crimes. Under his real name. You recognize the name Derek Bradley?”

The kid gasped. “He’s a traitor. Sold secrets to terrorists. Caused a lot of men to get killed overseas. He got himself blown up a couple years ago.”

“So the public was led to believe.”

The deputy shook his head. “Not Sheriff Galloway.”

Strickland leaned in. “Does he trust you?”

The kid nodded. “Yeah.”

“He wouldn’t leave town without letting you know, would he?”

“No, sir.”

Strickland patted the kid’s cheek. “Okay, then, here’s what I want you to do. If he contacts you, I want you to keep your phone on. Don’t end the call.” He squeezed the deputy’s shoulder. “What’s your name?”

“Deputy Lance Keller, sir.”

“Well, Lance, are you a patriot?”

The kid sprang to attention. “Yes, sir.”

“Okay, then. You do this, and your country will thank you.”

The deputy met his gaze. “I think you’re wrong about the sheriff, sir.”

“Could be. If he’s innocent, nothing will happen, will it? And you’ll have helped clear him.”

Keller smiled. “Yes, sir.”

“If he’s guilty, you’ve saved a lot of lives.”

Strickland turned and opened the front door. “I’m counting on you, Keller.”

He walked back to his truck and picked up his phone. “Kid’s clueless.”

“You kill him?”

“Came a second away from pulling the trigger, but not yet. Galloway’s a straight-as-an-arrow spy. It’s what got him into trouble in the first place. He might contact the deputy. And if he does, we’ll have him.” Strickland paused. “Then I kill him.”

* * *

GARRETT PEEKED INTO the living room. Laurel and Molly were playing hide-and-seek, with Hairy Houdini the key player. He smiled softly. It had been so long since he’d heard that kind of joy.

So many lost memories.

And Laurel. She had his heart beating again. He didn’t know if he liked feeling again. A cold heart made it easier to focus on revenge.

She let out a laugh and tackled Molly in a gentle hold. Those two had melted the ice encasing his heart. And Laurel had lit a fire.

He wanted to scoop her into his arms, touch her and hold her until she trembled against him. They could both forget the past and lose themselves in each other. He’d recognized the heat, the awareness in her eyes.

She wouldn’t say no.

Problem was, Laurel was a forever kind of woman. And Garrett had stopped believing he had a forever.

The reality made this decision easier. He planted himself in his office chair and picked up the secure line. For a moment he hesitated. Daniel Adams had been through hell, but the man had connections...and he was one of the good guys. These days, men who lived by a code of honor were few and far between. Many talked the talk. Few walked the walk.

He punched in the number Daniel had given him.

“Adams.” Daniel’s voice held suspicion.

Garrett was silent for a few moments. Daniel said nothing either, obviously unwilling to give anything away.

“It’s Garrett Galloway,” he finally said.

“If you’re calling on this line, it must be serious, and not to request an invitation to Christmas dinner.”

“You said to call if I needed a favor. I might. And it’s a big one. Just how covert can your friends be?”

“Very. What’s the situation?” Daniel’s voice went soft. A few loud squeals sounded in the background before the snick of a door closing muffled the noise.

“My past is raising a dangerous head, complete with teeth. A woman and her niece are in the cross fire. If I fail, they need new identities and a new life. Untraceable, undetectable.”

Daniel let out a low whistle. “I always wondered about you, Garrett.”

“Look, Daniel, don’t run a search on me. Eyes are everywhere. The minute you pull strings, those eyes will come back on you and your friends. You get me?”

“I played the game,” Daniel said. “Do your friends know what they’re in for if they disappear?”

“I’ll make sure they understand. We’re not far from that gorge you hid out in. How long will it take you to get here?”

“I can have a chopper there in less than an hour.”

“I think we’ll have to talk about that.” Behind him Laurel stood in the doorway, foot tapping. “You’re palming us off? Where’s that idea of working together, Sheriff? I’m not ready to give up on having my life back yet.”

Daniel chuckled at the other end of the phone. “She reminds me of my wife. Doesn’t take any prisoners. You need me, call this number. I’ll have the helicopter on standby.”

“No details. To anyone.”

“None needed. They know me. You had my back once, Garrett. I’ve got yours.”

Garrett hung up the secure phone and turned around in his chair. He’d know very soon which direction this operation would be taking.

He had a feeling he knew. And that Laurel wasn’t going to like it.

* * *

NOON HAD COME and gone. Laurel kissed Molly’s forehead and quietly closed the door to the bedroom. The little girl had fallen asleep before her usual nap time, but she was exhausted. Even though the weather was brisk, the sun had shone. They’d explored outside, careful to make enough noise to startle any other predators from coming too close. They’d collected pinecones. The moment Laurel had crossed the baseball-sized tracks of the big cat, she and Molly had scurried back to the house. She didn’t want to come face-to-face with it again, even with her SIG.