“I need a favor. A big one. I need you to marry me. Tonight.”

The look Jericho gave her let Laurel know that he thought she’d lost her mind. Maybe she had. But she didn't exactly have a lot of options, and Jericho was still her best bet.

“Marry you?” he repeated.

He was no doubt remembering the bad history between them. “What’s going on?” He turned as if he was about to show her to the door but then stopped. And studied her with those cop’s eyes. The warm amber-brown-colored eyes weren't so warm right now, but Laurel had firsthand knowledge that they could be.

Every part of Jericho could be warm.

Again, it was firsthand knowledge fed by years of experience of kissing him. Touching him, wanting him.

Taking Aim

at the Sheriff

Delores Fossen

www.millsandboon.co.uk

DELORES FOSSEN, a USA TODAY bestselling author, has sold over fifty novels with millions of copies of her books in print worldwide. She’s received the Booksellers’ Best Award and the RT Reviewers’ Choice Best Book Award. She was also a finalist for a prestigious RITA® Award. You can contact the author through her webpage at www.dfossen.net.

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Sheriff Jericho Crockett didn’t have time to react. The SUV flew out from the side road and slammed right into the side of his truck.

The jolt was instant, tossing him around, and the seat belt snapped like a vise across Jericho’s body. It knocked the breath out of him and dazed him for a couple of seconds.

He couldn’t say the same for the driver of the SUV.

No dazed moments for the person behind that heavily tinted windshield. The driver backed up a few yards and came at Jericho again. This time, the front end of the SUV collided with his pickup’s engine and then pulled back before coming onto the main road behind Jericho.

Much to Jericho’s surprise, the guy didn’t bolt. The SUV stayed put, the driver revving up the engine as if it were some kind of wild animal on the verge of pouncing for an attack.

What the hell was going on here?

Was someone trying to kill him? Or at least put him in the hospital? Jericho wasn’t about to let either of those things happen. He drew his Smith & Wesson from his waist holster and threw open his door.

The blast of December air came right at him, spiking a chill in him that went bone deep. But the cold didn’t stop him. Jericho leaned out just enough so that he’d still have some cover but so this clown would see his gun.

What Jericho still couldn’t do was get a glimpse of the person inside. Of course, the darkness didn’t help. Nor did the fact that the driver didn’t even have on his headlights.

“I’m Sheriff Crockett!” Jericho shouted. “Get out of your vehicle now!”

Since this crazy attack had come out of the blue, Jericho wasn’t sure what to expect, but he braced himself in case someone in that SUV tried to take shots at him.

But that didn’t happen.

The SUV came at him again, slamming into the back of his truck and causing Jericho’s arm and shoulder to bash against the steering wheel. He held on to his gun, thank God, and he used it. Jericho sent two bullets into the SUV’s engine, but they ricocheted off. Obviously, it’d been reinforced in some kind of way, because the front fender wasn’t even crushed.

“The next shot goes through the windshield,” Jericho warned him. Easier than putting bullets through metal, anyway. “And right into you.”

The warning must have worked because this time the guy didn’t crash into him. The driver threw the SUV into Reverse and hit the accelerator, the tires kicking up smoke and stench as they squealed away.

Since this was a farm road, less than a quarter of a mile from Jericho’s family ranch, there wasn’t much traffic, but he didn’t want an innocent bystander hit by someone who was either drunk or just plain dangerous. He was more than ready to go after the idiot, but the spewing steam from his engine stopped him. The radiator had probably been busted in the collision, and he wasn’t going to get far. Best to try to get to the ranch and regroup.

Cursing, Jericho took out his phone and pressed his brother’s number. Jax, who was a deputy and still at work, answered on the first ring.

“I think somebody just tried to kill me,” Jericho said instead of a greeting. He eased his foot down on the accelerator, hoping the truck would make it home.

“Again?” Jax asked. It wasn’t exactly a smart-mouthed question. Earlier in the day, Jericho had been shot at during a domestic dispute. Now, this.

“A black SUV rammed into me three times, tore up my truck and then drove off. Run the plates for me.” Jericho rattled off the license numbers, and he heard the clicks his brother was making on the computer keyboard back at the sheriff’s office in the nearby town of Appaloosa Pass.

“You okay?” Jax sounded considerably more concerned with this question than his last one.

“I’m fine.” Well, except for what would no doubt be a god-awful bruise on his shoulder. It was already throbbing like a toothache.

“The plates aren’t registered,” Jax provided a moment later. “They’re bogus.”

Of course they were. “Find this moron and arrest his sorry butt. Once I’m at my house, I’ll get another vehicle and help you look for him.”

“I can handle this. No need for you—”

“I’ll be there,” Jericho insisted, and he ended the call.

Well, there went his plans for a quiet night. Dinner and sleep. Maybe not even in that order since he was fully spent after pulling a twelve-hour shift. But apparently his shift wasn’t over. Yes, his brother could handle this. Jax could handle pretty much anything when it came to a lawman’s work. But this was personal, and that meant Jericho would have his hands in it.

The truck engine continued to chug and spew steam, but he was finally able to reach his place. Thankfully, it was at the front of the ranch property, the house that’d once belonged to his great-aunt and -uncle.

Jericho kept watch around him, just in case the bad-driving nut job returned, and he hurried up the back steps and into his kitchen so he could get the keys for his spare truck. He instantly spotted the note taped to his door.

“‘I put up a tree for you. Love, Mom,” he read aloud.

He automatically scowled. He wasn’t much of a Christmas person. Definitely didn’t put up trees—even though Christmas was only two days away. But he made a mental note to thank his mother, anyway.

Jericho stepped inside and cursed again once he turned on the lights and noticed the blood on his shirt.

Then, on his shoulder.

He peeled off his jacket and cowboy hat, dropping them on the table, and after he removed his badge, he sent the shirt flying straight toward the washer in the adjoining laundry room. It wasn’t a deep cut, barely a nick, but it was bleeding enough that he’d need a bandage.

Jericho made it one step into the living room when he heard someone moving around.

And he put down his badge and drew his gun.

Great day in the morning, had the idiot in the SUV gotten here ahead of him?

“Jericho,” a woman said. Her voice was a whisper.

He picked through the dark room and located her. Right next to a Christmas tree with all the trimmings. Even though he could barely see the brunette sitting on his sofa, he knew exactly who she was.

Laurel Tate.

She wasn’t the very last person on earth that he would have expected to see in his house, but it was close. Jericho hadn’t laid eyes on Laurel in over two years, since she’d moved from her father’s nearby ranch to Dallas where she was supposed to run one of her family’s businesses.

A shady one, no doubt.

Which pretty much described all her family’s businesses.

Heck, Jericho’s nights with her had been shady of a different sort since she was hands off. But those nights had been memorable, as well. He wasn’t very happy about that. Wasn’t happy about giving in to this scalding heat that’d always been between them.

Still was.

Much to his disgust.

“Nice tree,” she remarked. “Your mother’s doing?”

“Really? I doubt this visit is about Christmas trees. Or my mother. Why are you here?” he growled. “And how’d you get in?”

She fluttered her fingers toward the back door. “It wasn’t locked, and I had to see you, alone, so I didn’t want to go to your office,” Laurel said, as if that explained everything.

It didn’t explain squat. “Well, you can use that same unlocked door to let yourself out. I don’t have time for a visit.”

Laurel got to her feet. Slowly. Her cool blue eyes fastened to him. Not just on his face, either. Her gaze slid over his upper body, reminding him that he was bleeding and shirtless. Jericho hoped it was the blood that caused her breath to go all shivery like that, because he wasn’t the least bit interested in having her react to his body.

They were enemies now. But lovers once.

Okay, not just once.

They’d been sixteen when they’d first discovered sex together, in this very house the summer he’d been staying at the place when his great-aunt and -uncle had been away. Jericho had actually discovered sex a year earlier with the cute cheerleader whose name he couldn’t remember, but he’d been Laurel’s first. A first had turned to a second, third and so on until his father’s murder two years later.

Things had changed big-time between them then.

Everything had changed.

But he damn sure remembered Laurel’s name.

Every inch of her body, too. A reminder that Jericho told to take a hike.

“You’re bleeding,” she said.

“And you’re leaving so I can take care of it.” But then he got a bad thought. Really bad. “Did you have something to do with the guy in the SUV who ran into me? Let me rephrase that. Did your scummy father have anything to do with it?”

Because Laurel wasn’t the sort to get her hands dirty. She just associated with the lowlifes who did.

Her eyes widened and she shook her head. “Someone tried to hurt you?” And yeah, it sounded like a genuine question from a concerned, surprised woman.

“Is your father responsible for my bloody shoulder and bashed-up truck?” he pressed.

It wouldn’t have been Herschel Tate’s MO to be so obvious. He was more a knife-to-the-back sort of guy. Too bad Jericho had never been able to pin any crimes on him. Especially one big crime.

The murder of Jericho’s own father.

Twenty years later, the pain of that still cut him to the bone. And that pain spilled over onto Laurel because she’d refused to see the truth or help him put her murdering father behind bars.

“I don’t think my father was involved with anything that happened to you tonight.” Laurel shook her head again. “But I can’t be positive.”

Well, that was a first—having her admit that her precious daddy could do anything wrong. But Laurel didn’t elaborate. She hurried past him, and for a moment Jericho thought she was leaving. Instead, she came back from the kitchen with some paper towels that she pressed to his shoulder.

Jericho eyed her. Her nursing attempt put her fingers in contact with his bare skin. “How’d you get here?” he snapped. “Did your father or somebody else drop you off?”

Though he couldn’t imagine why Herschel would do that. The hatred Jericho felt for the man was mutual.

“No. My father doesn’t know I’m here. No one does. I parked behind your barn.”

Since he had a big driveway and side yard, there was only one reason to park behind the barn. To conceal the vehicle. Jericho couldn’t think of a single good reason for her to do that, but since he was a cop, he could think of some bad ones.

“Start talking,” he insisted.

Laurel didn’t do that, though. She kept dabbing at the cut. And more. Now that she was this close to him, Jericho could see her bottom lip tremble a little. He could also see that the whites of her eyes had some red in them.

Had she been crying?

“Your hair’s longer,” she said, her breath hitting against his neck right next to the hair she was apparently noticing. “It suits you.”

That earned her a flat stare, and to end the little touching session, Jericho snatched the paper towels from her. “Are you really here to chat about my infrequent trips to the barbershop?”

“No.” She moved away from him, repeated her answer and tucked a strand of her own loose hair behind her ear. “But we need to talk.”

“So you’ve said. Well, start talking. Jax is waiting on me to come back to the station so we can go after the guy who hit my truck.”

Jericho made sure he sounded impatient enough. Because he was. But Laurel didn’t seem to be in a hurry to start this conversation that he didn’t exactly want to have. So, Jericho started it for her.

“If you’re here on your father’s behalf—to try to make some kind of truce or deliver a threat—I’m not in a truce-making or threat-listening kind of mood.”

“It’s not anything like that.” Laurel paused, pulled in her breath. “It’s about...marriage.”

Jericho went still. The woman sure knew how to keep him surprised. After all, Laurel was already married. Or at least she was supposed to be. But now that he had a better look at her left hand, she wasn’t sporting a flashy diamond or a wedding band.

She followed his gaze to her ring finger and shook her head. “I didn’t go through with the wedding. I called it off.” Laurel looked up at him, clearly waiting, as if she expected him to ask why.

He’d rather eat a magazine of bullets first. But if the gossip was right, Laurel was supposed to be married to one of her father’s rich lackey lawyers. Considering that she, too, was an equally rich lackey lawyer, it was no doubt a match made in some place other than heaven.

“Look, Laurel, like I keep saying, this isn’t a good time—”

The rest of what he was about to remind her just stopped there in his throat when she opened her hand, and Jericho saw the small blue stone. She’d obviously been holding it for a while, because there was a mark on her palm.

“You remember what this is?” she asked.

Yeah, he did. And while it would seem petty to deny that, Jericho nearly went with petty.

Nearly.

“It’s the rock we found on the banks of Mercy Creek twenty years ago,” he supplied.

“We went walking there after we, well, afterward.” Laurel tipped her head toward the bedroom, to the very place where she’d lost her virginity to him. “We found the two rocks. They were almost identical in size, shape and color. We’d never seen rocks that color before, so we decided it was some kind of sign, maybe even good-luck charms.”

Jericho couldn’t remember if he’d paid his electric bill this month, but he remembered that twenty-year-old conversation with Laurel. Every blasted word of it. And he knew that silly teenage notions of signs and charms like that came with a price tag attached.

“You said we’d each keep one, and that this rock could be a marker of sorts. Payment for any favor down the road. Anything,” Laurel added. “In all these years, I’ve never used it because we said it should be for something very important. And we’d know just how important it was because we’d used this marker.”

Jericho nodded. “I figured that’d come more in the form of a favor, like buying you a horse or something. Or if you needed me to whip somebody’s butt for messing with you.”

And then it hit him. What this visit might really be about. “You don’t think we’re going to make the same mistake again of having sex?” he asked.

“A mistake,” she said under her breath. Not exactly an agreement, but Jericho couldn’t quite put his finger on the tone in her voice. And he certainly didn’t see a let’s-have-sex look in her eyes.

Not exactly, anyway. Of course, when it came to Laurel and him, there was always heat. Unwanted heat. But heat nonetheless.

“No. I’m not here for that,” she verified.

“Good.”

His body didn’t exactly agree with that. Never did when it came to Laurel, but after that last fiasco together, Jericho had learned his lesson. Play with fire. Get burned. Or in their case, get burned bad, because for a couple of hours, it had made him forget her scummy family.

And Jericho had paid for it.

Hell, he was still paying.

It was a good reminder because it made Jericho realize it was time for Laurel to leave. However, before he could even point to the door again, Laurel took his hand and put the rock in it.

“I do need a favor. A big one.” She swallowed hard. “Jericho, I need you to marry me. Tonight.”

Chapter Two

Laurel wished she’d been able to come up with a better way to do this. Hard to come up with anything, though, with the tornado of emotions going on in her head. Of course, Jericho now had some emotions, too.

Bad ones, obviously.

Because the look he gave her let Laurel know that he thought she’d lost her mind. Maybe she had. But she didn’t exactly have a lot of options here, and Jericho was still her best bet.

Even if he didn’t believe that right now.

“Marry you?” Jericho repeated.

He was no doubt remembering the bad history between them. And he probably included their last one-nighter in that heap of bad history.

“It’ll take more than a rock to make that happen.” He cursed, dropped it on the table. “What’s going on here?”

Laurel had figured that would be his first response—anger and demands. It was certainly hers when this idea had first come to her. Still, she was hoping the blue rock and the promise that had gone along with it would buy her enough time so she could explain things before Jericho kicked her out.

No such luck.

He turned as if he was about to show her to the door, but then stopped. And studied her with those cop’s eyes. The warm amber-brown color wasn’t so warm right now, but Laurel had firsthand knowledge that they could be.

Every part of Jericho could be warm.

Again, it was firsthand knowledge fed by years of experience of kissing him. Touching him, wanting him. And then having that warmth vanish and cool to iceberg temperatures like those outside right now.

Well, except for that night over two years ago.

Those two years seemed like a lifetime. For her, anyway. Jericho looked the same except for the slightly longer brown hair. In other words, he still looked like the hot cowboy he’d always been. Maybe it was his DNA, those eyes or the fit of his jeans, but when a woman saw Jericho Crockett, she noticed.

Laurel had been no different.

“I need an explanation,” he pressed. “Like right now.”

Where to start?

She doubted Jericho would want her to get into the little details. Not just yet, anyway. Judging from the impatient stare, he was looking for the condensed version of why she’d called in a very old marker that to him was probably worthless.

Laurel picked up the rock, slipped it into the front pocket of his jeans, careful not to touch too much of him.

“I had a baby,” she finally said. “A son named Maddox. And my father is challenging me for custody.”

It crushed her to say that.

Crushed her even more to think that her father might succeed.

The tears came again, and Laurel tried to blink them back. She’d already cried an ocean of tears, and they didn’t help. Now she had to focus on a fix for this. She had to do whatever it took to save her son.

“A baby?” His gaze skimmed over her body. “You don’t look like you’ve had a kid. And the gossips around town sure haven’t gotten hold of that tidbit.”

“I guess being several hundred miles away has kept the gossips from putting their noses in my business.” Added to that, she’d worked very hard to make sure the news stayed within her family and a very small circle of friends.

For all the good that’d done her.

Jericho huffed, and his hands went on his hips. “So, your father’s challenging you for custody, huh? Guess that means you two had some kind of falling-out. Or maybe you finally learned what a sack of dirt he really is.”

“I’ve always known.” She let that hang in the air for a few moments. “But I stayed for my mother’s sake. As sort of a buffer between him and her.”

He studied her. With some obvious skepticism in his gaze. There was a reason for that. Laurel had indeed defended her father over the years. Had believed his lies when he’d told her that his businesses would all be legitimate. Most of his lies, anyway.

And even that little shred of belief had cost her, big-time.

It’d cost Laurel her freedom. Her safety. It’d also cost her Jericho. What she needed to tell him wouldn’t help, either.

“My mother had cancer and passed away,” Laurel said. “She died two weeks ago.”

“I’m sorry. Losing a parent is hard.” The look of sympathy that he gave her was genuine, but it didn’t last. “I’m guessing after her death was when things fell apart with your father?”

“More or less.” Mainly less, but she’d save that for another time. “I don’t think it’ll come as a surprise to you that my father has influence over several judges. Doctors and psychiatrists, too. He’s trying to declare me mentally and morally incompetent to raise my son. There’s no truth to it,” she added, just in case Jericho doubted it.

Which he probably did.

But he also no doubt believed that her father wasn’t competent to raise Maddox, either.

Jericho stayed quiet a moment. “And you think if you’re married, to me, that your father will...what? Step back from this fight he has with you? Herschel’s never backed off from anything, period.”

Her father wouldn’t do that this time, either. Unless he had no choice. She had to make sure he didn’t get that choice.

Because she needed it, Laurel took a moment, too. “If we’re married, I’d sign over custody to you. Immediately. My father might have enough dirt on me to declare me incompetent, but he can’t do the same to you.”

She hoped.

After all, Jericho had been the sheriff of Appaloosa Pass for well over a decade. He was respected by some. Feared by others. It would be next to impossible to fabricate enough to smear his reputation, and Laurel was hoping a corrupt judge would back down from trying to go after Jericho.

“What kind of dirt does Herschel have on you?” he asked. Of course, Jericho wasn’t going to let that slide.

“My father manufactured some of it. Some of it was my own stupidity in handling one of his business accounts.”

And again, that was an explanation best saved for another day. She hadn’t done anything knowingly, but she had known her father. Had known what he was capable of doing. Now that her father knew the whole truth, he would use anything to hurt her where it hurt the most.

By going after Maddox.

Jericho’s stare got worse. So did his profanity. “Surely there’s somebody other than me who can do this for you. Like your ex-fiancé?”

“He can’t help,” she settled for saying. And, in fact, he was a big part of the problem.

“Really? You’d think the kid’s father would have something to say about you asking another man to marry you.” A muscle flickered in his jaw. “What’s your ex’s name, anyway? Leo-something-or-other.”

“Theo James,” she supplied.

Jericho lifted his right eyebrow. “Oh, I get it now. Theo doesn’t have a clean record, either, and your father will use that to get custody of his only grandson.” His eyebrow went higher. “You probably should have picked a different guy to hook up with, Laurel.”

She had. And Laurel would have told Jericho that, too, if the sound hadn’t shot through the room. Since her nerves were already right there at the surface, she gasped, her body readying itself to fight yet another battle.

But it was just Jericho’s phone.

“It’s Jax,” he said, and quickly answered it.

Even though Jericho didn’t put the call on speaker, Laurel was close enough to hear what Jax told him. “We caught the guy in the SUV. He was on the side of the road trying to switch out the bogus plates. I’m bringing him in now.”

The news caused Jericho’s shoulders to relax a little, but that quickly ended when his gaze snapped back to her. “Good,” he said to his brother. “Has he said anything about why he did it?”

“Not a word. He’s already lawyered up, but I’ll see if I can get anything from him.”

“I want to talk to him,” Jericho insisted. “I won’t be long. Laurel Tate’s here, and I need to finish up some things with her.”

Jax paused. For a long time. “Laurel,” he repeated, the venom clearly in his voice. “Why the heck is she at your place?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

No, he wouldn’t. Nor would Jax approve. Because like the rest of the Crocketts, Jax blamed her in part for his father’s death. They’d never forgive her for that.

Laurel wouldn’t forgive herself, either.

She wouldn’t forgive herself for a lot of things.

Jax cursed, and she had no trouble hearing it. “Please tell me you’re not getting mixed up with Laurel again,” he said to Jericho.

“No.” Jericho didn’t hesitate. Of course, Laurel had known he wouldn’t simply agree to marry her. But hopefully he would when he understood the big picture.

She could practically see Jax’s puzzled expression, but he didn’t press things. “I’ll see you when you get here.”

And at that time, Jax would no doubt want a full explanation as to why their enemy’s daughter was in his brother’s house.

Jericho pushed the end call button and walked right past her. First to the kitchen so he could retrieve his badge from the counter. Then, toward his bathroom, she quickly realized, when she followed him.

“Look, I sympathize with this problem you’re having with your father,” he said, taking a bandage from the medicine cabinet. “Herschel shouldn’t be raising any kid. But I can’t help you.” Jericho slapped the bandage on his shoulder and then went into his bedroom.

She followed him there, too.

Even though there were dozens of things on her mind, important things, Laurel still felt the punch from the old memories here. The room hadn’t changed much in the twenty-two years since she’d been here for the first time.

Since she’d landed in that bed with Jericho.

Laurel made the mistake of looking at him before she could rein in the heat that trickled through her. A big mistake. Because Jericho saw that heat, and he scowled at her.

“My answer’s not going to change,” he insisted, taking a gray shirt from the closet. Once he had it on, he clipped on his badge. “It doesn’t matter what happened between us on that bed. Or what happened over two years ago.”

Laurel was about to tell him that it did indeed matter, but this time it was her phone that rang. She took it from her pocket, and when she saw her father’s name on the screen, she let it go to voice mail—along with the other dozen messages he’d left her in the past couple of hours. She didn’t have to listen to the message to know what he was demanding again.

That she hand Maddox over to him.

Or else agree to every detail of his sick plan.

She didn’t intend to do either one of those.

“I can’t let him get his hands on my son,” she whispered.

“Good luck with that.” It sounded like a dismissal, but she thought she saw some concern in Jericho’s eyes. “I take it you’ve hidden the baby so that Herschel can’t find him?”

She nodded. “He’s with a friend I trust.”

“A friend,” he repeated, that cop’s stare coming at her again. “But I’m guessing this is a friend who can’t help you with your marriage problem.”

“No.”

He huffed, scrubbed his hand over his face. “I can’t do this. What I can do is make some calls and arrange a safe house where you can stay until you work things out with Herschel. For now, I need to get to the station to question this dirt-for-brains suspect.”

Yes, Jericho had made it crystal clear that he had more important things to do and no intention of helping her. So, Laurel pulled out the big guns. Or rather, the picture. It was the screen saver on her phone, and she held it up for him to see.

“That’s my son, Maddox,” she said.

Laurel didn’t need to see the picture to be able to describe it in complete detail. The precious little boy with the blondish-brown hair, amber eyes and a melt-your-heart kind of smile.

Not a newborn baby.

As Jericho had likely been expecting.

Since Laurel was watching him so closely, she saw the change in his expression when he began to connect the dots. It wasn’t a huge change. Just the muscles in his face going tight for a moment. Followed by a head shake, and then that lethal stare came back to her.

“How old is he?” Jericho asked. Except it wasn’t just a question. It was a demand spoken through clenched teeth, and he practically ripped the phone from her hand for a closer look at the picture.

Laurel tried to steel herself for what was no doubt about to be a fierce storm. “He’s eighteen months.”

There. That was the last bit of information that Jericho needed so he could finally understand why she’d had come to him. Why their marriage had to happen and happen fast.

Why she couldn’t turn to anyone else.

“Yes,” Laurel verified. Her voice cracked, and she had to clear her throat before she could continue. “Maddox is your son.”

Chapter Three

The blood rushed to Jericho’s head.

It happened too fast for him to get hold of himself before it felt as if someone had slugged him with a hammer.

So many emotions went through him. The shock. The anger. The feeling that his life had just turned on a dime.

Because it had.

Everything had just turned.

Laurel and he had been together two years and three months ago, the perfect timing for them to have an eighteen month old son.

“Why?” he managed to say, though it would be the first of many questions. Questions that Laurel had darn sure better be able to answer.

Laurel didn’t exactly jump to answer, but then she didn’t back away from him, either. Even though he had to be giving her his worst glare, she held her ground.

“You should probably sit down,” she suggested.

No way would sitting help. Nothing could at this point. His entire body was a tangle of nerves and fresh adrenaline—all caused by that picture of the little smiling face on Laurel’s phone.

Everything about that face was familiar.

Because it was practically identical to pictures he’d seen of himself when he was a baby.

“Why?” he repeated, his jaw so tight now that he was hurting.

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want my father to find out. I was afraid he would kill you.”

“He would have tried,” Jericho conceded. Now the profanity came, and he couldn’t stop himself from cursing Laurel. “You still should have told me.”

Her chin dropped a little, and while she still held her ground, the tears shimmered in her eyes again. He wasn’t immune to those tears, but right now he had no intention of giving Laurel one ounce of comfort.

How dare she do this.

“I already had your father’s death on my conscience,” she said. “I didn’t want your death there, too.”

“That’s no excuse.” He jabbed his index finger at her and considered punching the wall just to release some of this dangerous energy revving up inside him. Hardly a mature reaction, but this had shaken him to the core.

A baby!

Except he wasn’t exactly a baby now. He was eighteen months old. Born nine months after Laurel and he had ended up in bed. And she’d kept it from him this entire time.

“You had no right,” he warned her.

“Maybe not, but what’s done is done. I’m sorry I can’t give you more time to come to terms with this. I’m sorry about a lot of things. But right now, we have to stop my father from taking him.”

Jericho got a new surge of anger, too. Except this was more rage, and it was aimed at Herschel. “That won’t happen. No way will I let that snake take custody of...” But the words wouldn’t come so he could finish that.

My son.

However, it was exactly what Jericho meant. It wasn’t happening. It already sickened him to realize that Herschel had been part of the little boy’s life this entire time.

And that Jericho hadn’t been.

Later, he’d address that with Laurel.

“Why is Herschel trying to take custody?” Jericho asked. “How is he trying to do it?” he amended.

“My father has two fake psychiatric reports on me,” Laurel explained. Not easily. The words seemed to stick in her throat. “Both claiming that I’m mentally unstable.”

“You could counteract those with your own real psychiatric reports.” Because Laurel had been careless and irresponsible when it came to her father, but she wasn’t crazy.

“I could, but I don’t own the judge that’ll be presiding over the hearing. Plus, my father has a document I signed that’s connected to some illegal funds that were transferred from an offshore account. I did sign it, but I had no idea it was a part of a money laundering scheme.”

So, Herschel was coming at her from two angles, but it did surprise Jericho there was only one document with her signature on it that could have criminal ties. After all, Laurel had worked for her father for nearly a dozen years, and she’d no doubt come in contact with plenty of his dirty businesses and schemes.

“I want the names of every person involved in that deal,” Jericho insisted.

Laurel nodded, but there was plenty of hesitation in her expression. “My father said if I came to you for help, that he’d only make things worse for both of us.”

Yeah, that sounded like Herschel. A man of threats. Though he didn’t know how much harder her father could make things, considering he was trying to take Laurel’s child.

Jericho’s child, too.

The reminder didn’t settle easily in his mind. Of course, nothing about this would.

“You don’t doubt he’s yours?” she asked.

“No.” How could he? The proof was right there in front of him. “How much does Herschel know about Maddox’s paternity?”

“Everything. Now,” she added in a whisper. “At first, I’d told him Theo was Maddox’s father, and Theo went along with it. But when I broke off the engagement, Theo told him the truth. That’s why Herschel wants custody right away. You know how much he hates you, and he hates me even more now that he knows I kept the truth about Maddox from him.”

Jericho was betting there was a whole other story to go along with that one. Theo had probably squealed to get back at Laurel. He didn’t know this Theo idiot, but he’d settle things with him later.

With Herschel, too.

Not just for this stunt he was trying to pull with getting custody, but because it was possible that Herschel had indeed been behind the hit-and-run idiot that Jax now had in the holding cell. Jericho didn’t know exactly what Laurel’s father would hope to gain by that, but anything was possible when it came to Herschel.

Especially anything illegal.

“Your father must have seen the resemblance between Maddox and me,” Jericho said, handing her back the phone.

“He did,” Laurel readily admitted. “He didn’t know about that night we were together. I’d managed to keep that from him, but he asked me point-blank if I’d been with you. I denied it, and I falsified the results of Maddox’s paternity test so I could try to get him off your trail.”

Jericho hadn’t wanted Herschel off his trail. Especially not for something like this, something that would keep Maddox from him. The best way to deal with a snake was to confront it.

“Where’s Maddox now?” Jericho asked.

“With a friend, Sandy Singer. She’s a former cop, and she took him to her parents’ house in Sweetwater Springs. Her parents are out of town so the place was empty.”

So, Maddox was about thirty miles away. Close. But any distance wouldn’t have mattered.

“I want to see him.” And the glare Jericho gave Laurel dared her not to refuse him.

She didn’t refuse him, though. She gave a shaky nod. “We’ll just have to make sure we aren’t followed.”

He would make certain of that because he wouldn’t put it past Herschel to take the boy, all in the name of keeping him safe from Laurel. Later, Jericho would have to do something about those false reports, but for now he had a more immediate problem on his hands.

“I have to call Jax and tell him I won’t be able to question the man in custody until, well, until later,” he settled for saying. Because Jericho had no idea how much time he’d need to start fixing this mess Herschel had created.

That Laurel had created, too.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, no doubt after she saw the latest round of anger go through his eyes.

Not in the mood for an apology that wouldn’t help one bit, Jericho waved her off and took out his phone to call his brother. However, he stopped when he heard the sound.

A vehicle was approaching the house.

“Oh, God,” Laurel whispered, her fingertips going to her mouth.

“It might be nothing,” he assured her.

After all, his family’s ranch was huge, and people came and went all the time. It could be one of the ranch hands, his mother or maybe even his sister, Addie, and her fiancé, Weston. Since Addie was pregnant, they were often making night runs to get whatever she was craving.

Heck, it could even be one of his other brothers, Levi or Chase. Both had houses on the grounds of the ranch.

“Wait here,” Jericho told her, and he headed to the living room window to look out. He braced himself for the worst.

And the worst was exactly what he got.

The moment he pulled back the curtain, he spotted the man who’d stepped from the black car now stopped in front of Jericho’s house. It was dark enough that Jericho couldn’t make out the guy’s face, but he had no trouble seeing his gun.

Or hearing it.

The bullet slammed into the windowsill just a couple of inches from where Jericho was standing.

“Get down!” he shouted to Laurel.

But he did something to make sure that happened. Jericho hurried to her, hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her to the floor behind the couch. It wouldn’t be much protection against bullets, but it was safer than her standing in a room with windows on the front and side.

“Call Jax for me,” he said, tossing Laurel his phone. “I need backup and everyone in the main house warned that we’re under attack.”

Despite Laurel yelling for him to stay down, Jericho headed back to one of the windows so he could figure out who this idiot was and how to stop him.

From what Jericho could tell, the guy was alone. At least he was the only one out of the car. Of course, someone could be inside, waiting, so that’s why he went to the window on the other side of the room. He wanted as much of an element of surprise as he could manage when he fired at this nut job. Maybe the guy wouldn’t see him before Jericho got off the finishing shot.

“Jax is on the way,” Laurel relayed to him. “He’s bringing one of the deputies with him. Dexter Conway. He’ll also call your mother and the rest of your family on the drive over.”

Good. It’d take at least twenty minutes for Jax and Dexter to arrive, but maybe the attack was confined to just here. He didn’t want Herschel’s brand of violence spreading to the rest of his family.

“Now, please get down,” Laurel added. “I’m calling Sandy to make sure everything is okay with Maddox.”

Even though what Laurel was saying was important, Jericho shut her out, knocked out the pane of glass with his gun and took aim. He pulled the trigger, and though he couldn’t be sure, he thought he might have hit the shooter in the shoulder. The guy ducked down and jumped into the car. Just in case he intended to get back out, Jericho sent another shot his way.

“Do you know for sure who’s doing this?” Jericho asked Laurel.

“No. My father hates me now, but I can’t believe he’d try to kill me.”

“Believe it,” Jericho said just as he got another surprise of the night.

Another bullet came right at him. Not from the idiot in the car this time. This shot had come from somewhere across the road. The land was level pasture there, and it would have been easy for a gunman to stand out, which meant the guy was likely hiding in the ditch.

Had he come with his partner in the car?

Probably.

Herschel no doubt wanted some kind of backup to make sure this attack was a success. After all, if Herschel got rid of both of Maddox’s parents, then there’d be no fight for custody. However, that only led Jericho to yet another set of questions.

Did Herschel really want Maddox enough to kill for him?

And why?

Because Jericho wasn’t sure a man like Herschel was capable of loving a child this much.

Jericho didn’t have time to dwell on that because another shot came crashing through the window, and it spewed broken glass all over the room. Some of it even flew behind the couch.

Worse, it didn’t stay a single shot.

The bullets began to rip through what was left of the window. Tear through the walls, too. It was an old house with a wood frame, and if the shooters were using the right kind of bullets, they could do some serious damage before Jax and backup could even arrive.

“Crawl to my bathroom,” Jericho told Laurel. “Get in the tub.”

“You can’t stay out here, either,” she insisted.

“I’ll be right behind you.”

Maybe. But he immediately had to rethink that maybe when he finally spotted the shooter in the ditch. Jax would be there soon, and this guy was right next to the road. Jericho didn’t want his brother getting hurt. Losing one family member to Herschel’s schemes was more than enough.

Jericho moved to the side of a bookcase. Like the couch, it wasn’t ideal coverage, but it would do. Hopefully. Since there wasn’t any glass remaining in the window, he leaned out and fired right at the shooter in the ditch.

The guy dropped back down. But Jericho didn’t think he’d managed to hit him.

Still, if he could keep both of these idiots pinned down, that would keep Laurel and the rest of the ranch safe. That thought had barely crossed his mind, however, when he heard a sound he definitely didn’t want to hear.

More shots.

Coming from the car.

Shooter number one was back at it again, and this time the bullets weren’t coming at Jericho. They seemed to be going on the other side of the house. Right in the direction of the bathroom where he’d just sent Laurel. And right in the direction of where there were sounds of yet more broken glass.

It didn’t help when he heard her scream.

“You can’t do this!” Laurel shouted. “Please. No!”

Hell.

Jericho raced from the living room, praying that one of those bullets hadn’t hit her or that a third gunman hadn’t managed to get into the house. Either was possible. He didn’t have a security system and rarely even locked the windows or doors. Anyone could have gotten in.

Jericho kept as low as he could when he approached the bathroom. The light wasn’t on, but there was a small window near the ceiling, and it gave him just enough illumination to see Laurel in the tub.

She had her left hand covering her head, and there were shards of glass on her from the broken window.

“Are you hit?” Jericho asked.

Her breath was gusting, and when she turned to look at him, that’s when he saw that she had her phone against her ear. Despite the fact the bullets were coming at them nonstop, she still got out of the bathtub and would have bolted out the door if Jericho hadn’t caught her.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded, and he pulled her to the floor to get her out of the path of those shots.

Laurel frantically shook her head, fighting to get away from him. “They went after Maddox.”

That handful of words sent his stomach straight to his knees. “Who did?”

“Kidnappers.” Her answer rushed out with her breath, and Laurel scrambled to her feet again. “We have to get to him. Sandy said the kidnappers broke into her house, and they’re trying to take Maddox right now.”

Chapter Four

Laurel tried to push Jericho aside so she could run to her car. It didn’t work. He held on, cursing at her to stop.

“Is your friend alone in the house with Maddox?” Jericho asked. “Has she called the Sweetwater Springs’ cops?”

Laurel nodded to both his questions and tried to break free again. Everything inside her was spiraling out of control, and she was within a breath of a panic attack—something that wouldn’t do her or Maddox any good—but she couldn’t seem to stop herself.

“Getting yourself killed won’t help Maddox,” he snarled.

That helped with the panic. Well, it helped enough so that she could level her breathing and try to fight through the need to run.

Jericho took her by the arm and maneuvered her toward the kitchen. He slapped off lights along the way, pausing only long enough to put on his jacket and grab a set of keys before they went to the back door.

“Keep low and move fast,” he ordered.

The relief flooded through her. They weren’t going to hunker down and wait. They were going after Maddox. But that relief was short-lived when they stepped outside, and the bullets came. Not directly at them. The shooter was still firing into the front and side of the house, but without the walls to buffer the sounds, the shots were deafening.

And worse.

The shots started coming toward them.

“They’re using infrared,” Jericho said under his breath.

Someone obviously wanted them dead, but Laurel couldn’t give in to the fear and panic that was snapping at her like the bitter wind. She had to get to Maddox.

Obviously, Jericho felt the same way because despite the shots, he practically dragged her onto the porch with him. With his hand on her back, he kept her low. Kept her running, too, toward his truck that was parked between them and the barn. That’s when Laurel spotted the other damaged truck by the side of the house.

Soon, very soon, she’d need to find out if her father was responsible for that attack and this one. But for now, she had more pressing matters.

Jericho threw open the driver’s side of his truck, shoving her inside and onto the floor. He shut the door, and in the same motion, he started the engine.

“Call Jax again.” He tossed her his phone and hit the accelerator. “Tell him what’s going on. And stay down.”

Despite her shaking hands, Laurel found Jax’s number in the recent calls and pressed it. “I’m almost there,” Jax greeted her.

Laurel was about to tell him they were on the run, but the bullet blasted through the side window. The safety glass held, but it wouldn’t for long.

“We’re on our way to Sweetwater Springs,” she said to Jax. “You need to get all the help you can out to 225 Anderson Lane to stop a kidnapping.”

“A kidnapping? What’s going on there?” Jax asked. At least he didn’t hesitate, or curse her, after hearing her voice.

“Someone’s trying to take...my son.” Not exactly a lie, but Jericho would have to explain the full truth later: that Maddox was his son, too.

Now Jax cursed. Maybe because he’d already filled in the blanks or maybe because he had a child of his own and knew that this was a parent’s worst nightmare.

“I’ll make the call and get every available lawman in the area out there.” And Jax cursed some more when another bullet slammed into the truck. A bullet that he no doubt heard. “Tell Jericho to be careful,” he added before he ended the call.

She relayed all of that to Jericho, emphasizing the last part. Did he listen? Of course not. And she was partially thankful for that. She didn’t want Jericho hurt, but she also didn’t want to waste any time getting to Maddox.

“Hurry,” she said purely out of frustration.

Jericho was already hurrying, because she heard the tires squeal against the asphalt as he took a turn. Likely the one to the main road that would lead them to Sweetwater Springs. It was cold, just below freezing, and it was possible there was some ice on the roads. That didn’t help the panic, either, but she was thankful that Jericho didn’t slow down.

“Are they following us?” Laurel asked.

A muscle flickered in his jaw. “Yeah.”

They couldn’t lead the gunmen straight to Sandy’s house. Of course, it was highly likely that both the gunmen and the kidnappers were working for the same person.

Her father.

“This is all my fault,” she whispered. “I should have never left Maddox with Sandy.”

“Herschel knows who Sandy is?” Jericho asked without taking his attention off the road.

“No, my father doesn’t know her, but he must have found out about her.” Laurel hadn’t expected that. Especially not so soon. She’d only left Maddox with Sandy a little over two hours ago, and she hadn’t thought anyone was following her.

She’d clearly thought wrong.

And her precious son could suffer because of her mistake.

“If Herschel’s the one behind this,” Jericho said, “then he won’t hurt Maddox. Will he?” His jaw muscles tightened again, and there was a low, dangerous tone to that question.

“No. Not intentionally.” But her baby was in the middle of an attack, and plenty of things could go wrong. Especially since both Sandy and the kidnappers would be armed, and Sandy wouldn’t just let the kidnappers take Maddox without putting up a fight.

Oh, God.

Those hired guns could hurt Sandy. Or kill her. Her father would have given them orders to keep Maddox safe, but he wouldn’t have extended such an order to the woman hiding his grandson.

Even though Jericho didn’t say anything to her, Laurel could almost feel him trying to work out some kind of plan. Good. Because they needed something—anything—to save their son. No, her father wouldn’t hurt Maddox, but if he got his hands on Maddox, he would hide him away so she could never find him.

“Hold on,” Jericho warned her. “I have to do something about these SOBs behind us.”

He slammed on the brakes, turning the steering wheel and bringing the truck to a stop sideways on the road. Laurel couldn’t see the men following them, but she heard the squeal of their brakes as they approached. Felt the cold blast of air when Jericho lowered his window. He took aim.

Then, nothing.

Jericho just waited. The seconds crawling by. Precious time that they should be using to get to Maddox. Laurel knew they didn’t have a choice. They couldn’t arrive at Sandy’s house with gunmen on their tail, but the waiting only caused the panic to smother her again.

Her heartbeat was already crashing in her ears. Her chest so tight that she couldn’t breathe. But she could think, and her mind was coming up with all sorts of worst-case scenarios.

Even though she knew Jericho wouldn’t approve, she lifted her head just enough so she could see out the side mirror. Laurel immediately spotted the black car. The passenger’s door opened, and a man leaned out. He had a gun, and he pointed it right at them.

The shot blasted through the air.

It took her several heart-stopping moments to realize the gunman hadn’t fired the shot. Jericho had. And their attacker dropped, falling out of the car and onto the ground.

Jericho fired another shot, this one slamming into the windshield right in front of the driver. The glass was tinted and there wasn’t much of a moon, so she couldn’t tell if the bullet hit the guy or not. Jericho maybe couldn’t tell, either, because he sent two more shots in the same spot.

Nothing.

“Which word of stay down didn’t you hear me say?” Jericho snarled. He didn’t even spare her a glance, but he threw his truck into gear and got them moving again—fast.

She’d heard every word just fine, but Laurel had to see for herself if the gunmen were going to follow them. They didn’t. Much to her relief, the black car didn’t move when Jericho sped away.

Laurel got back down but gasped when another sound shot through the truck, and for one terrifying moment she thought the gunmen had returned fire, after all. But it was just Jericho’s phone that she still had gripped in her hand.

“It’s Jax,” she said, glancing at the screen. Laurel answered the call and put it on speaker.

“I’m not far behind you—” Jax started.

“Look out for the black four-door car that’s maybe still in the middle of the road near the creek,” Jericho interrupted. “The guys inside are the ones who attacked Laurel and me.”

“Did you kill them?” Jax asked.

“Maybe. But even if I didn’t, I doubt they’re in any shape to drive.”

Good. It seemed wrong to celebrate anyone being shot or killed, but the men were another obstacle they didn’t need.

“If they’re alive,” Jericho continued, “arrest them. Get answers from them and get them fast. But be careful. I don’t know what kind of orders they have.”

Neither did Laurel, but she did know that wounded men could still kill, and she didn’t want that happening to Jax and Dexter.

“I’ll keep an eye out for the men and the car,” Jax assured him. “I just got off the phone with Sheriff Cooper McKinnon over in Sweetwater Springs. He and two deputies are at the residence. Two men fled on foot, and the deputies are in pursuit.”

“Did they take Maddox?” Laurel couldn’t ask fast enough.

“They didn’t have a baby with them, but Cooper said he’d call me back once he was sure the residence was secure. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything.” And Jax hung up.

Her stomach tightened. It wasn’t over. Just because those would-be kidnappers were running, it didn’t mean there weren’t other hired guns inside the house. Maybe holding Sandy and Maddox hostage.

Or worse.

“Don’t go there,” Jericho warned her. The glance he gave her this time let her know that he didn’t want to deal with a hysterical woman. “You said your friend was a former cop, and I’m guessing she can handle herself or you wouldn’t have left Maddox with her.”

Laurel managed to nod. Sandy could indeed handle herself. But that didn’t mean something couldn’t have gone wrong. She should have hired a team of bodyguards to help, but there hadn’t been time.

Maybe still wasn’t.

“Any chance we’ll be able to link any of these hired guns to your father?” Jericho asked.

“No chance whatsoever. My father is thorough.” Among other things. She’d always known he was capable of breaking the law, but Laurel hadn’t realized until recently just how far he would go to make sure he got what he wanted.

And what he wanted was Maddox.

“Now that I’ve defied him,” she said, “my father will stop at nothing. Nothing,” Laurel repeated.

Jericho stayed quiet a moment. Kept driving, the tires squealing when he took the curves too fast. “And you really think marriage will stop him?”

“No,” Laurel readily admitted. “He’ll put me in jail or a mental hospital. But what the marriage can do is prevent him from taking Maddox.”

She hoped.

Still, it was a long shot. And judging from the way Jericho’s forehead bunched up, she hadn’t convinced him this was the way to go.

“Hang on,” he said just as he took another sharp curve. The truck went into a skid, but Jericho quickly regained control.

Laurel was far enough down on the seat that she couldn’t see out the windshield, but she did see the lights filtering in. No doubt from the town of Sweetwater Springs. That meant they were only minutes from Sandy’s parents’ house. However, it seemed to take an eternity for those minutes to pass.

She finally saw the swirl of blue lights from a police cruiser. Red lights, too. Probably from an ambulance.

That put her heart right back in her throat.

Laurel sat up, her gaze firing all around while she tried to spot Maddox and Sandy. No sign of them, but she’d been right about the cruiser and the ambulance. Both were in front of Sandy’s parents’ house, and there were several lawmen milling around in the yard.

Before Jericho even pulled the truck to a full stop, Laurel tried to bolt out, but as he’d done at the house, he caught onto her arm and stopped her.

“I have to get to Maddox,” she insisted.

“No. You have to wait here,” he ordered. “And I mean it.”

With his gun already drawn, Jericho threw open the door and made a beeline toward the tall, lanky man on the porch. Laurel recognized him—Sheriff Cooper McKinnon. Like Jericho, Cooper had had some run-ins with her father, but she hoped that wouldn’t prevent him from doing his job and saving Maddox.

Laurel did wait in the truck. Several painful seconds. As long as she could manage. And then she got out, running toward the two sheriffs. Another lawman in the yard, a deputy, tried to stop her from getting closer, but she batted his hands away.

“My son is in there!”

“It’s okay,” Cooper assured the deputy. “Let her through.”

Laurel didn’t take the time to thank him or to respond to the glare Jericho was giving her for disobeying his order. She rushed past the men and hurried into the house. The room was dark, only a corner lamp for illumination, so she needed a moment for her eyes to adjust and take everything in.

Some of the furniture and a Christmas tree had been toppled over. Things were strewn around. Evidence of the struggle that’d taken place here.

Then her heart bashed against her ribs.

Because she saw the blood. On the floor. And on the front of Sandy’s white T-shirt.

“Oh, God.” Laurel’s gaze flew past her friend and to the medic.

Who was holding Maddox.

“He’s all right,” Sandy quickly told her. The medic repeated a variation of the same thing.

Laurel didn’t believe either of them. She hurried to her son, praying there’d be no blood on him. There wasn’t. She took him from the medic’s arms, trying to check every inch of him. Maddox didn’t cry, didn’t seem upset, but he did look a little confused about what was going on.

“He wasn’t hurt,” Sandy insisted.

Laurel shook her head. “But the blood.”

“It’s mine.” Sandy lifted the sleeve of her T-shirt, and Laurel saw the angry gash on her friend’s arm.

That gave Laurel a new burst of emotions. Concern and the sickening dread that she’d put her friend in danger. “I’m so sorry.”

Sandy shrugged. “I just got grazed by a bullet, that’s all. Nothing serious. The medic will stitch me up, but I wanted him to check out Maddox first.”

“The kid’s fine,” the medic assured her. He goosed Maddox in the belly and went toward Sandy to start examining her.

“I can’t ever thank you enough,” Laurel told the woman.

“No thanks needed.” Sandy’s attention went to Jericho. “But I’d appreciate it if you caught the scum who did this.”

Jericho nodded. “I will.” And it sounded like a promise. One that Laurel hoped he could keep.

“Boo-boo,” Maddox said, pointing to Sandy’s arm.

Since Laurel didn’t want him to see that, she sheltered his face against her shoulder and moved to the other part of the room.

And practically ran right into Jericho.

The moment seemed to freeze. Or maybe she felt that way because Laurel’s feet suddenly seemed anchored in place. But then, Jericho didn’t move, either. He just stood there, his attention fixed on Maddox.

Maddox gave him a wary look, his gaze sliding from Jericho’s cowboy hat, face and finally to the shiny badge on his shirt. Maddox smiled.

Jericho sure didn’t.

Laurel saw all the emotions go through his eyes. The love, instant and strong. The fear that he’d come so close to losing him. And finally the hatred. Not aimed at Maddox but at her.

For keeping Maddox from him.

“We need to leave,” Jericho said to her. Not easily. His jaw muscles were as hard as granite.

Well, they were until Maddox smiled again.

Jericho’s expression softened a bit. Then it softened a lot when he reached out and touched his son’s cheek. That seemed to be the only invitation Maddox needed, because he reached for Jericho and that badge.

But Jericho didn’t get a chance to take him.

Because Cooper stuck his head through the partially opened door. The lawman’s attention went straight to Jericho. Then her. “My deputy caught one of them,” Cooper said. “It’s not good.”

No. Laurel wasn’t sure she could handle any more bad news tonight.

“What’s wrong?” Jericho asked, walking closer to his fellow sheriff.

“I have to get all of you out of here now,” Cooper insisted, glancing at both Jericho and Laurel. “The kidnapper we caught told my deputy that more men were on the way here, and they have orders to shoot to kill.”

Chapter Five

Shoot to kill.

Not exactly orders that Jericho had wanted to hear, but it’d gotten Laurel, Maddox and him hurrying away from the scene and to the sheriff’s office in Appaloosa Pass. That wasn’t exactly ideal for a toddler, but it would have to do until Jericho could make other arrangements.

And put an end to the danger.

The first would be a whole lot easier than the last.

Sandy didn’t have any info about the kidnappers, and the one captured kidnapper was no longer talking, other than to tell them that those shoot-to-kill orders were meant only for Laurel and him. Jericho felt no relief about the fact that Maddox had been excluded in that hit plan because the baby could have easily been hurt in the attack.

Someone would pay for that.

Herschel, no doubt. But it was going to be a bear to prove his involvement.

Too bad Jax hadn’t found the two gunmen in the black car who’d followed Jericho after the attack at his house. Jericho had indeed wounded at least one of them, because his brother had found blood on the road. But neither the car nor the men had been there by the time Jax arrived.

Not good.

He needed all these thugs in jail to up their chances of finding information to stop Herschel. Or anyone else who might be involved in this.

Jericho finished up his latest round of calls and made his way to the break room at the back of the building. Hardly living quarters, but there was a small bed that he and the deputies sometimes used when pulling double shifts. Tonight, however, Laurel and his son were sleeping in it.

It might take a while before those words—his son—didn’t sound foreign to him. Not because of his feelings for the baby. No, he already loved the little boy. But his son was still a raw reminder that Laurel had kept Maddox from him.

Jericho didn’t knock on the door because he didn’t want to wake Laurel and the baby, but when he stepped inside the room, he saw that only Maddox was on the cot. The little boy was on his stomach, snuggled in some blankets. No snuggling for Laurel. She was pacing.

And crying.

Jericho saw that right off, though she did quickly wipe away the tears and turn from him. He shut the door so the noise from the squad room wouldn’t disturb Maddox.

“Sandy just called,” Laurel relayed before Jericho could say anything. “The doctor at the hospital checked her out and released her. She’s on her way to Houston to stay with friends, and she told her parents not to come home until she’s sure it’s safe.”

That was a smart move. The hired guns probably wouldn’t go back to her place, but there was no sense taking that kind of risk, especially since they might see Sandy as a possible witness who needed to be eliminated. Jericho made a mental note to call Houston PD and arrange for some extra security for her.

“Please tell me the kidnapper you arrested is talking,” she added. “And that he’s got evidence to lead to my father’s arrest.”

“Afraid not.” But she already knew that would be the answer. If he’d gotten big news like that, he would have come straight to her with it, and he darn sure wouldn’t have been sporting a scowl.

A scowl that faded considerably when he went closer to his son.

Hard to scowl when looking at Maddox’s face. Jericho could see so much of himself in the boy. Some of Laurel, too.

“What about the other man?” she asked, walking to Jericho’s side. “The one who tried to run you off the road. Is he talking?”

Jericho had to shake his head. “We know from his prints that his name is Travis DeWitt. He’s got a record, a long one, but so far we haven’t been able to connect him to your father.”

“There’s probably a connection.” Laurel gave a heavy sigh and turned away from him again when she swiped at more tears.

She had plenty of reasons to cry. Someone had tried to kill her tonight, and that someone apparently wasn’t giving up.

Part of him wanted to put his arm around her and try to comfort her. Thankfully, that part of him didn’t win out, because the last thing he should do was have Laurel in his arms. Despite the bad blood, the attraction was still between them, too. No sense flaming that kind of heat when it would only make things more complicated than they already were.

She went to the table, picked up a notepad and handed it to him. “Those are the names of the people involved in the money laundering deal.”

The deal that Herschel was using to try to have her arrested. There were only two names: Quinn Rossman and Diego Cawley.

“I’ve tried to dig up anything on them, of course,” Laurel continued. “But so far, nothing. I thought it was just a simple real estate deal.”

Because her father had no doubt wanted it to look that way.

“That’s also the time line, as best as I can remember.” She pointed to some dates, times and a brief description of phone conversations she’d had with Rossman and Cawley. “I didn’t have any face-to-face meetings with either of them.”

Jericho checked through the time line and saw that something was missing. “I’ll need the exact dates of your mother’s death and when you broke off your engagement.” Because one or both of those could have triggered what was happening now.

While Laurel jotted down those dates, Jericho fired off a text to his brother Levi, who was a cop at the San Antonio Police Department, and asked him to run background checks on both men. Maybe Levi could dig up more than Laurel had. He also told his brother that he’d be faxing him a copy of the time line Laurel had just provided.

“So, what happens now?” she asked, handing him back the notepad.

Good question. But Jericho didn’t have anything remotely resembling a good answer. “We keep looking for the idiots who attacked us. Keep looking for anything we can use to stop Herschel.” He paused. “Please tell me you’ve got some dirt on him. Any kind of dirt that I can use to start legal proceedings for an arrest.”

“No.” Another heavy sigh. “Within minutes of Theo telling him that he wasn’t Maddox’s father and that I’d broken off the engagement, all my computer files and backups disappeared. They were corrupted by a virus that someone triggered.”

That someone was no doubt one of Herschel’s lackeys. “What about paper files?”

She shook her head. “All missing. By the time I got to my office, everything was gone.”

Herschel had worked fast. But then, he’d probably had this backup plan ready to go for years just in case Laurel turned against him. Still, there was something about this that didn’t make sense.

“You must have known your father would retaliate when you stopped being the perfect daughter.”

“I did. But I didn’t think he’d go this far.” Her voice broke, and again Jericho had to stop himself from lending her a shoulder to cry on.

Hell.

He only managed to hold himself for a couple of seconds, and then, as if it had a mind of its own, his arm eased around her and pulled her closer. Until they were touching far more than they should. Of course, any kind of touching was out between Laurel and him. That didn’t stop him.

Nope.

Jericho just waited until she wrestled with more of those tears. Thankfully, it didn’t last long. But it was long enough for his body to get really stupid ideas about the touching.

“Sorry,” Laurel said, and moved away from him.

Jericho got the feeling that the apology extended to a lot of things. Things he didn’t want to get into right now since he was still seething over the fact that Laurel had kept his son from him. And all because she was afraid Herschel would have tried to kill him.

Which Herschel would have tried to do.

All the more reason to figure out how to put that idiot behind bars.

“I guess you didn’t know Theo was going to tell your father the truth about Maddox when you broke off the engagement?” Jericho asked.

“I figured he would. Just not so soon.” She pushed her hair from her face. “I wasn’t thinking straight. My mother,” Laurel added.

Yeah, he figured her grief for her mother had played into this. From all accounts, they’d been close.

“So, after your mother’s death, you decided...what?” Because Jericho was having a little trouble filling in the blanks. “That you didn’t want to live by your father’s dirty rules?”

Her gaze slowly came to his. “I think my father murdered my mother.” No tears this time. There was a totally different emotion in her eyes and voice.

Anger.

And lots of it.

“You said she died from cancer,” Jericho pointed out.

“I think he helped her death along with an overdose of pain meds.” Laurel folded her arms over her chest. Started pacing again. “My mother wanted me to break off my engagement to Theo. She wanted me to leave and tell you the truth about Maddox.”

Jericho didn’t cheer out loud, but he was on her mother’s side on this. “She was right.”

“She was. And I think my father eavesdropped on our conversations and arranged for her to get an overdose of painkillers. Yes, she was sick. Very sick. But the chemo was working, and she wasn’t so much out of it that she would have taken too big of a dose by accident. I think my father might have put them in her food or something.”

That gave him a new surge of anger, too. Herschel preying on a sick woman because she wasn’t toeing the line. “Was there an autopsy?”

“No. And my father had her cremated the same day she died.”

Jericho wanted to curse. Hell. Now they were looking at murder. Two counts of it, since he was certain Herschel had also been responsible for his father’s death.

“I was grieving,” Laurel added, “and by the time I figured out what might have happened, it was already too late. Any evidence proving his guilt was cremated with my mother.”

Which Jericho was betting wasn’t an accident.

There was a soft knock on the door, and a moment later Jax opened it. “DeWitt’s lawyer is here.”

Good. Maybe the lawyer would convince his scummy client to talk.

Jax walked closer to them, and his gaze slid from Jericho to Laurel. Then to Maddox.

“He’s your son.” There wasn’t a shred of doubt in Jax’s voice. “How long have you known?”

“A couple of hours.” That alone said plenty, but his brother deserved a whole lot more, especially since Jax knew the emotional wringer he’d been through over the years with Laurel and her father. “Herschel’s trying to get custody.”

Jax didn’t look surprised, just as disgusted as Jericho was. “By trying to eliminate Laurel and you?”

“It looks that way. Herschel has dirt on Laurel to have her arrested.” Jericho handed Jax the notepad with the time line and names. “I need that faxed to Levi so he can try to help with the threat of Laurel’s arrest. But Herschel also has fake dirt to have her committed to the loony bin. Laurel wants me to marry her so she can transfer custody of Maddox to me.”

His brother didn’t say anything for several moments. “So, you’ll marry her?”

That question just hung in the air, and before Jericho could even attempt an answer, he heard voices in the squad room. Loud ones.

“Wait here with Laurel,” he told Jax, and Jericho drew his gun.

Bracing himself for another attack, Jericho hurried out of the break room and down the short hall to the squad room. But there was no attack. Their loud-talking visitors—a tall, bulky-shouldered man and a gray-haired woman—didn’t appear to be armed. However, one of the deputies, Dexter, was frisking them, and neither seemed especially happy about that. The unhappiness went up a significant notch when the man’s gaze landed on Jericho.

“Sheriff Crockett,” he said like venom.

Jericho didn’t recognize the guy, but venom like that was almost certainly personal.

“Theo James.” Jericho put some venom in his voice, too.

“We want to see Laurel now,” the woman demanded. And there was no doubt that it was a demand.

“And you are?” Jericho made sure he sounded like the sheriff when he asked that question.

“Dorothy James. Theo’s mother.”

Of course.

He didn’t see much of a resemblance. Maybe because of the woman’s slight build. She looked on the frail side, and her skin was as thin and white as paper. Unlike her son, who towered over her and had a tan despite it being the dead of winter.

Jericho knew that Theo James was a lawyer, like Laurel, but he could have passed for a bouncer. A well-dressed one, though. Jericho figured that suit had come with a big price tag. Ditto for the haircut. And it looked as if he’d had a manicure. As a general rule, he didn’t trust men who had manicures.

Of course, he hadn’t needed a manicure to feel that way about Theo James.

And Jericho was certain that jealousy wasn’t playing into this.

Almost certain, anyway.

“Why do you want to see Laurel?” Jericho pressed.

Dorothy wasn’t the sort of woman to hide her emotions. She huffed, glared and generally looked ready to run right over him to get to Laurel. “We heard about the attack, and I want to make sure she’s okay. She’s my son’s fiancée.”

“Ex-fiancée,” Jericho corrected.

Oh, that did not please either Theo or his mom.

“The breakup is all just a misunderstanding,” Theo answered. “And a temporary one. Once I speak with Laurel, we can sort it all out—”

“I doubt that. What do you know about the attack?”

“I don’t like your tone,” Dorothy snapped. “Are you implying we had something to do with it?”

Jericho stared at her. “Did you?”

“No!”

Man, the woman could yell, and all in the same breath, she belted out a denial and a threat to slap him with a defamation-of-character lawsuit. However, Theo wasn’t denying much. That’s because he had his attention nailed to the hall. More specifically, to the doorway of the break room where Laurel was standing.

“Laurel,” Theo said on a rise of breath, and he started toward her.

He didn’t get far because Jericho latched onto his arm. Yeah, the guy was big. Strong, too. But Jericho shoved him back.

“Stay put,” Jericho warned him.

“Theo just wants to go to his fiancée.” Dorothy again. The woman turned her attention to Laurel. “Are you going to come out here and stop this asinine interrogation of the man you love?”

“No. She’s not.” And Jericho gave Laurel a warning glance. She didn’t say anything, but she also didn’t stay put. Not exactly a compromise since he didn’t want Laurel in the same general area as the pair.

“Laurel, we need to talk,” Theo said. He threw off Jericho’s grip but didn’t go closer. “Alone.”

“Then talk. But it won’t be alone,” Laurel added. “Whatever you have to say, you say here.”

Laurel took the words right out of Jericho’s mouth. Except he’d intended to glare more than she had. Theo sure added some glare and snarl though—he aimed it at Jericho—before turning back to Laurel.

“Certainly you must know by now that calling off the engagement was a mistake,” Theo said to her. “You’ve upset your father. Us. And yourself.”

“Upset?” Laurel threw her hands in the air. “Gunmen attacked Jericho and me. That’s why I’m upset.” She walked toward them. “If you know anything about those gunmen, tell us.”

“Of course we don’t know anything,” Dorothy insisted. “Now, get Maddox and come home with us. We’ll make sure you’re both safe.” The woman paused. “Where is Maddox, anyway?”

“He’s already safe,” Jericho assured her.

Partly true. Jax was back there with Maddox, and a gunman would have to break into the back exit or come through the front to get to them. Still, Jericho wasn’t about to share that with these two.

A staring match started between Theo and him. Dorothy joined in on it, but Jericho pretty much ignored her and focused on Laurel’s ex.

“You think Theo here could be in on the attacks?” Jericho asked Laurel. He knew the question would rile mother and son. And it did.

Dorothy made a sound of pure outrage. “Theo had nothing to do with this. He loves Laurel. He only wants to marry her and be a father to Maddox.”

“Maddox already has a father.” Laurel’s voice was hardly more than a whisper, but it was obvious Dorothy heard it loud and clear. She jerked back as if Laurel had slapped her.

“It’s true,” Theo said, his voice quiet, as well. “We’ll discuss it later, Mom.”

Okay, so Dorothy didn’t know about Maddox’s paternity, but like Jax, she had no trouble putting two and two together. Except in Dorothy’s case, there was more disapproval than Jax had shown.

A lot more.

“Later,” Theo warned his mother when it appeared she was ready to launch herself at Jericho. He gently took hold of his mother’s arm. “Laurel’s tired and upset,” he repeated, as if making a point. “I can talk to her in the morning when her head is clearer.”

Jericho tapped his badge, pulling the lawman card, and he put his gun back in his holster. “You’ll talk to me. And not in the morning. You’ll do it right now. Is Herschel behind the attacks?”

“Of course,” Dorothy answered without hesitation. “Who else?”

Jericho was thinking the who else could apply to the woman asking the question. And her hulk of a son. “If you disapprove of her father so much, then why insist Laurel marry Theo?” he asked.

Dorothy gave him an isn’t-it-obvious? huff. “Because they’re right for each other, that’s why. And besides, even if Theo isn’t Maddox’s biological father, he’s been a father to him. He deserves to raise that little boy.”

“Theo’s hardly seen Maddox.” Laurel went to Jericho’s side, stared at Dorothy. “For that matter, Theo’s hardly seen me over the past six months.”

Six months? The more Jericho learned about this unholy union, the less he liked it. Soon, very soon, he’d want to know why Laurel had gotten involved with the guy in the first place.

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