Someone wants to see her silenced.

An Emergency Responders story

Back home after a mission trip, nurse and EMT Sara Southerland learns that her cousin’s death might not have been an accident—and now someone wants her dead. The only person she can trust is longtime crush and fire captain Adam Kane. With a stalker on their tail, Adam will do whatever it takes to protect the woman he’s realizing he can’t live without.

VALERIE HANSEN was thirty when she awoke to the presence of the Lord in her life and turned to Jesus. She now lives in a renovated farmhouse in the breathtakingly beautiful Ozark Mountains of Arkansas and is privileged to share her personal faith by telling the stories of her heart for Love Inspired. Life doesn’t get much better than that!

Also By Valerie Hansen

Emergency Responders

Fatal Threat

Military K-9 Unit

Bound by Duty

Military K-9 Unit Christmas

“Christmas Escape”

Classified K-9 Unit

Special Agent

The Defenders

Nightwatch

Threat of Darkness

Standing Guard

A Trace of Memory

Small Town Justice

Dangerous Legacy

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Fatal Threat

Valerie Hansen

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09489-4

FATAL THREAT

© 2019 Valerie Whisenand

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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“When did you notice this damage?” Adam asked.

“What damage? What are you talking about?”

Grasping Sara’s shoulders, he turned her in place, still keeping them within the shelter of the broad trunk. “This. See the hole?”

“We have worse things to worry about than a wormhole in a sycamore, Adam.”

He was shaking his head and glancing from side to side as if searching for someone or something. Finally, he said, “This is no wormhole, Sara. The damage is fresh. And judging by the wood that’s been displaced, the hole was probably made by a rifle bullet.”

“Why would anybody go deer hunting in town?”

When he placed both hands on the tree, trapping her, covering her, she began to feel surrounded even though he was only one man.

Adam raised his clear visor and leaned in to bring his lips closer to her ear.

Sara was so nervous, so unhinged by his nearness she almost missed hearing him say, “They weren’t shooting at whitetails, Sara. They were shooting at you.”

Dear Reader,

Not all friends make good mates. Not all mates make good friends. The person who can find both qualities in one person is truly blessed.

In this story, Sara was assuming unkind thoughts in the minds of others and she was often wrong, yet she based her reactions on those perceptions because she blamed herself for a tragedy. That’s easy to do when we experience the loss of someone we love. I believe one secret to reclaiming joy is in giving thanks for what we once had, even though it’s now lost, and embracing the future as the gift it truly is.

There are plenty of trials in daily life that we can’t cope with on our own. There is nothing God can’t handle once we decide to let go and trust Him.

You can reach me via email: val@valeriehansen.com.

Blessings,

Valerie Hansen

A man’s heart deviseth his way; but the Lord directeth his steps.

—Proverbs 16:9

Words cannot fully express my admiration for the amazing people who daily risk their lives to save and protect the rest of us. God has blessed them with a heart for service, a keen mind and the courage of David facing Goliath.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

EPILOGUE

Extract

About the Publisher

ONE

Flames were crackling, leaping and curling, their updraft sending sparks and embers whirling into the spring night from a burning duplex on the outskirts of Paradise, Missouri.

Fire Captain Adam Kane figured that the wooden structure was doomed. “Engine One on scene. Structure partially involved. Start a second alarm,” Adam radioed before whipping off his headset. He grabbed his handheld radio as he jumped out, slammed his red captain’s helmet down on his short dark hair and went to work.

“Clay and Walt, pull a two and a half. Peter and Rafe, the hydrant. Dave and Ty, to the roof. And get me more lights. We’ll set up to force ventilate from the front doors so we can search for victims.”

Besides the arrival of an ambulance, Adam noticed his own department’s rescue squad slowly pulling through the crowd of spectators. John Forrester was driving. And in the passenger seat was lithe, blonde Sara Southerland, the ER nurse whose unexpected presence had unnerved Adam when she’d arrived at the station that evening.

Well, he couldn’t allow himself to dwell on Sara’s problems. Other lives depended upon him and his crews. Once the ladder truck arrived he could raise the snorkel and position it to spray the rear of the wood-frame building, doubling their efforts without endangering anyone. Or the equipment.

Radio in hand, Adam continued to issue orders. “As soon as the fan’s in place, Walt, give me a quick figure-eight spray to cover the attack team. We won’t have long.”

Adam knew his firefighters were in full protective gear, yet he harbored more angst than usual. It wasn’t that he was ever complacent about this job. It was simply an uneasy feeling that he didn’t recall having experienced since ducking snipers and dodging IEDs, explosive devices buried in the ground overseas.

A quick glance proved that Sara was suited up in a bright yellow turnout, too, her sky blue eyes trained on the action. Was her mere presence enough to unsettle him? It never had been in the past, although considering the trauma she’d recently endured he figured he might have developed a heightened sensitivity.

Adam huffed in disgust. He was a decorated marine. A combat veteran. He’d guided men in battle and now commanded crews of paid firefighters and volunteers without hesitation. But one pretty volunteer EMT was enough to give him pause? That was not only disheartening, it was embarrassing.

Someone in the background began to cheer. Adam saw why and started forward to intercept his rescue team. The elderly woman supported between the men was unsteady but conscious as they handed her over to paramedics, then turned and headed for the second apartment.

Sara was gesturing and seemed to be trying to tell the medics something. When they ignored her, she turned toward Adam and waved her arms overhead. “There won’t be anybody in that other unit,” she shouted, approaching. “Vicki moved there right before we left for Texas.”

Of course. That was why Sara had appeared agitated. Vicki’s untimely death was still fresh in her mind and this had been her cousin’s new home. Those kinds of community ties always hit hard and in Sara’s case the effect would be even worse.

By the time she reached his side and stopped, he was already on the radio. “Be advised, that second unit is reported to be unoccupied.” He was about to order them to withdraw when he heard another cheer arising from the crowd.

His crew had reappeared and were supporting the thin, limp body of a man. Adam frowned. Had a thief or arsonist been trapped by his own crime? It sure looked that way. He took a step toward the firefighters to see if he recognized the victim.

Sara grabbed the sleeve of his turnout coat so firmly she was impossible to ignore. He whirled, frowning. Her face had lost most of its color. Her always-expressive eyes were wide and filling with tears. Her lips trembled.

Expecting her to say something, he was jolted when she released him with a cry and began to run toward the rescuers instead.

* * *

Sara covered her mouth, smothering a wail. Unless her mind was playing tricks on her, she knew this victim. She and Vicki had met and befriended twenty-something Rodrigo Salinas while in Texas on their recent, ill-fated mission trip. The trip that had taken Vicki’s life.

Gently cupping the unconscious man’s cheeks in both hands, she raised his face to get a better look. It was Rodrigo, all right. Unfortunately, the rescuers had reached him too late.

A firm grasp on her shoulders pulled her back as paramedics moved in and took over. Sara knew it was Adam. They’d been friends for so long that she could sense his presence without even looking.

“You know this guy?” Adam asked.

She nodded and met his dark gaze. “Yes. From Texas. He was part of the missionary project Vicki and I...”

“What’s he doing in Missouri?”

Good question, Sara thought. Moreover, why was he in Vicki’s empty apartment and why was it now on fire? What in the world could he have been up to?

“Good job, guys,” Adam told his men. “Was that the last victim?”

“Yeah. He almost made it to the front door before the smoke got him.” One man had removed his air mask and was coughing. A blackened smudge traced its outline on the sides of his face. “Looks like Miss Bessie was the only one to make it out alive.”

Bessie Alt? Of course! Sara took a sharp breath and coughed as a result. Had she been so upset by the involvement of Vicki’s apartment and the discovery of an unexpected victim that she’d missed keying in on such a vital detail? That was inexcusable for a firefighter, even a part-time volunteer like herself.

One glance at Adam told her he was clueless. His words confirmed it. “We’ll take care of this, Sara. Go back to the rescue squad and get some O2 to clear your lungs before you end up sick.”

“No. Listen to me,” she shouted over the surrounding noise. “I know Bessie Alt’s medical history. She has a lot of breathing problems.”

“Okay.”

“Oxygen.” She saw Adam tense when she pointed toward the duplex with her whole arm. “There must be tanks of compressed oxygen stored in there. H models, I imagine. The big ones.”

“Everybody back!” Triggering emergency evacuation protocol with continuous high-low siren blasts he shouted, “Clear the area. It’s gonna blow!”

Sara’s mind was racing ahead. The instant she was certain Adam got the picture she turned on her heel and jogged through the police lines toward the ambulance.

“The fire department’s bailing, Vince,” she told the closest paramedic. “You need to load up and get out of here.”

The shake of his head and slow laying aside of equipment confirmed the original suspicion that it was too late for poor Rodrigo. Sara gently touched Vince’s arm. “At least you tried.”

“Yeah. We got to him too late.”

“I’m sorry.” She sought to comfort him—and herself. “I guess it was his time to go.”

He dipped dark brows and scowled at her. “That why you let your cousin drown, Sara? Did you figure her time was up, too?”

As unfair as his accusation was, Sara had heard whispers far worse since returning to Paradise. And she’d learned the hard way that rebuttal was futile.

She turned from him and started away, continuing until she had put a large sycamore trunk between her and the burning building. As she peered past the tree she could see engines backing up, repositioning. Only the aerial with the snorkel nozzle stayed where it was, presumably because it could shoot water from a long way off and still be effective.

Adam remained closer to the blaze than anyone else, shouting directions and gesturing. Her heart swelled with pride as she watched him. So brave. So capable. And so blooming hardheaded. What did he think he was doing? Didn’t he have a lick of sense? Just because he’d survived roadside bombs as a marine, that didn’t mean he was bulletproof.

She cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted at him. “Adam!”

He didn’t respond. Considering the noise of the motors, pumps, sirens and yelling, plus the hiss and roar of the fire itself, chances were good he hadn’t heard a word.

Every nerve in Sara’s body was firing and misfiring. Her wobbly knees might have dropped her on the spot if she hadn’t leaned against the stout tree. If only Adam would give ground!

What was the matter with him? Wanting to do good was one thing. Unnecessary risks were another. She ought to know. Not fighting harder to keep her cousin from behaving recklessly during the Texas flood had been her worst decision ever—one she would pay for the rest of her life.

Well, once was enough. If Adam wouldn’t back off on his own she was going to drag him to safety, just the way she should have dragged Vicki.

Bolting from cover, Sara heard a distant pop and felt tiny, bothersome bits of tree bark raining down on her head. She absently swatted them from her hair. Her one and only mission right now was getting to her friend and convincing him to flee.

Screaming “Adam!” she dodged equipment and jumped fat, wet fire hoses that coiled on the muddy ground like seeping, writhing snakes. “Adaaaaam!”

He whirled. Sara crashed into him. “You have to leave. Fall back.”

He grabbed her upper arms through the heavy canvas-like turnout coat she wore. “What do you think you’re doing? Get out of here!”

“I’m saving your life!” Hearing herself screeching she decided he wasn’t going to heed her warning unless she made it more specific. “The oxy tanks. If they fall and the valves break off they’ll turn into rockets.”

“With a fireball on the other end. Yeah, I know.” Taking one last look he pushed her ahead of him in a joint dash for cover.

Sara pointed. “That tree. Come on.”

Rounding it, she flattened her back against the trunk. Adam joined her. Her heart was already pounding from the scare he’d given her. Now, it took off at a gallop. This was one of those extraordinary moments when she wasn’t sure whether to weep or laugh. His handsome face was dotted with ash, smudged with smoke and his warm brown eyes were reddened. Nevertheless, the way he was staring at her was more than disconcerting.

His focus left her face to concentrate on a spot on the tree trunk directly above her head. When he removed one of his heavy gloves and touched the bark, more powdery bits and slivers rained down.

Sara brushed them away. “Stop that. You’re making a worse mess than the first time I hid here.”

His eyes were wide beneath the brim and clear faceplate of his helmet. “What first time? When did you notice this damage?”

“What damage? What are you talking about?”

Grasping her shoulders he turned her in place, still keeping within the shelter of the broad trunk. “This. See the hole?”

“We have worse things to worry about than a wormhole in a sycamore, Adam.”

He was shaking his head and glancing from side to side as if searching for someone or something. Finally, he said, “This is no wormhole, Sara. The damage is fresh. And judging by the wood that’s been displaced, the hole was probably made by a rifle bullet.”

“Why would anybody go deer hunting in town?”

When he placed both hands on the tree, trapping her, covering her, she began to feel surrounded even though he was only one man.

Adam raised his clear visor and leaned in to bring his lips closer to her ear.

Sara was so nervous, so unhinged by his nearness, she almost missed hearing him say, “They weren’t shooting at whitetails, Sara. They were shooting at you.”

TWO

Adam was ready to catch her if his frankness made her faint. It impressed him when she stayed firmly on her feet.

“What? What gives you that idea?”

“Logic. If somebody had had it in for police or fire they’d have aimed at our trucks and cars. You were standing behind this tree and nobody else was close by. Am I right?”

The fact that she simply nodded instead of arguing with him was telling. Hopefully, his sensible reasoning was getting through to her.

Her lips parted slightly and her fair complexion paled even more than usual, yet she was adamant. “Wait a second. I know what a rifle shot sounds like, the way it echoes and kind of whines. I did not hear anything like that.”

“Then maybe the bullet was from a pistol. I don’t know. I’ll report it so the cops can dig it out for evidence.”

As he spoke, Adam continued to scan their surroundings. His crews and engines were out of danger from the anticipated explosion. The telescoping snorkel was still pumping water on the rear of the building to cool it and protect nearby structures. There remained only one serious concern not taken care of. Sara Southerland. And a sniper.

Adam knew he could continue to physically block her if he had to but that left his own back exposed. Clearly, they needed better cover.

“We’ll make a run for Engine One and hunker down behind it. You go first,” Adam ordered.

“I’m not going anywhere without you,” she said hoarsely.

That was all it took to push him to the edge of his patience. “Somebody took a shot at you. You can’t stay here.”

“Then neither should you.”

“I said I was coming.” Adam knew he was shouting at her but it was for her own good. He stepped slightly to the side and gave her a push. “Move!”

This time there was no doubt he heard it. The bang. The whine. The thunk when the projectile imbedded in the sycamore mere inches from his head.

Instinct took over. Adam threw Sara to the ground behind a cluster of low-growing bushes, pinning her beneath him and ignoring her indignant sputtering. This was combat. In his mind he was back in the desert, under fire. Unprotected. Vulnerable. And unarmed.

Reaching for his radio he shouted, “Shots fired! Take cover!”

Seconds later his radio crackled a response in his earbud. “I’ve alerted the sheriff,” his dispatcher said. “That’s not your only problem, Captain. Miz Alt has a prescription for two H tanks like you thought. One was refilled and returned a few days ago.”

“Copy.”

Adam shifted, raising himself slightly to give Sara relief. She immediately tried to wiggle away but he stopped her. “No. Stay put.”

“I thought we were making a run for it.”

“Not now that we know the shooter is still active. There’s no way to get to the truck without showing ourselves. We’ll have to keep our heads down until the cops catch him or scare him off.”

Adam knew they’d also need to wait until something happened inside the burning building. Either the tanks would vent or explode or act like horizontal rockets and take out walls. Maybe they’d do all of the above, depending on when the fire reached them and how they were supported inside Bessie’s apartment. It was too much to hope they’d fall gently and withstand the spreading flames.

“Initial explosive hazard confirmed,” Adam broadcast on an open channel. “All units hold your positions. Nobody goes near this structure again until I give the all clear.”

Sara nudged him. “I was right?”

“Yes. Unfortunately, you were. As soon as...”

A muted crash was followed milliseconds later by a whoosh and sounds of cracking and shattering. A flaming, rolling, expanding ball of gas filled the duplex to bursting and sent splintered windows and walls outward while the roof rose, fell and disappeared.

Adam ducked instinctively. So did Sara. He covered her as best he could and stayed hunched over her until smoldering pieces of the destroyed building stopped falling around them.

A cloud of acrid black and gray smoke boiled from the site of the explosion, filling the atmosphere and stealing breathable air. It rolled over the scene like a malevolent entity that was bent on hiding the carnage and claiming more victims.

Adam’s ears were ringing. “Don’t inhale deeply,” he cautioned Sara. “Fumes from burning synthetics can kill you.”

“Or you!” she replied, coughing and choking.

“I’ll be okay. There’s plenty of O2 on the engines. Wait a minute more, then keep low while you head for the squad. This smoke will hide you. Get in with Forrester. Stay there and keep your head down, just in case.”

“No. I can help out here. There may be injuries.”

“There will be for sure if you keep being so stubborn,” he countered. “I can only do so much to protect you.”

“I never asked you to.”

“You didn’t have to,” Adam said soberly. “It’s what I do.”

* * *

Everyone’s adrenaline had dissipated to the point of exhaustion by the time all the firefighters except the mop-up crew had returned to the station. Disappointingly, the duplex was on the ground and no sniper had been located.

Sara had given her statement about the deceased victim to police officers on scene, then ridden back with the rescue squad. The crews were done debriefing for the night, although their chief would later go over the primary attack on the fire and their coordinated efforts.

On-duty firefighters were cleaning and restocking the equipment and the other volunteers had left for home. Sara would have been among them if Adam hadn’t specifically asked her to stay so they could speak in private.

Weariness made her mood less than affable. “Well? What’s so important that we can’t let everybody in on it?”

“You must know that better than I do. Talk. I’m waiting,” he said flatly.

“For what? I’m as in the dark as you are about what happened tonight. Even if you’re right about those shots, I can’t lock myself in a closet and stay there to make it safe for the rest of the folks in Paradise.”

“There’s a lot more to consider than that and you know it,” Adam argued. “I just want you to take reasonable precautions. The police agree. Nobody accidentally shoots the same tree twice in a row—while you happen to be standing under it.”

Sara could picture Adam’s larger frame physically shielding hers. By the time the second bullet was fired he might have been in the way. Therefore, the assailant had little concern for which victim fell.

“How do you know they weren’t shooting at you?”

“Because I wasn’t there the first time.”

“You were the second time,” she argued.

He grimaced. “Don’t remind me.”

Judging by his expression and the abrupt retort, he meant it. Well, fine. Sara chewed on her lower lip. She was certainly going to remember. The way he had protected her from both the impending blast and whoever was apparently threatening her life had brought back good memories. Sweet memories she had done her best to banish when he’d chosen to ignore her tearful pleas and enlist in the marines rather than stay in Paradise.

So, what do I have to do to get him to see me as a responsible adult instead of a giggly teenage buddy? she wondered with a sigh. Sara stiffened her spine, raised her chin and made sure none of the on-duty firefighters were listening before she said, “Okay. Suppose somebody is mad enough at me to try to shoot me. Who? And why?”

“Don’t ask me. Ask yourself,” Adam snapped back. “Start with why anybody would start a fire in Vicki’s apartment.”

“I don’t have a clue. Really.”

“How about that guy you recognized? You met him in Texas?”

“Yes.” She swallowed hard, her mouth dry.

“What happened there?”

“Besides losing my best girlfriend in the whole world, you mean?” She noted his morphing expression, unsure whether it portrayed anger or loss or grief.

Adam set his jaw. “Yes.”

Sara decided he was struggling to control anger, which was actually a necessary step in the grieving process, so she tried not to hold it against him. At least he was staying civil toward her—for the present.

“Vicki thought she’d found a problem with the records kept by the local overseer for the mission organization,” Sara said. “That was why she insisted on going back to the office trailer despite the storm. The Brazos River and its tributaries were already flooding and more rain was falling, but she’d stashed the proof back at the office.”

He rolled his eyes. “That’s ridiculous. She could have saved a copy on a thumb drive.”

“Not without electricity and a working scanner to copy the original invoices. She—we—needed those paper copies. They had signatures on them. There was no way to prove who was involved in the corruption without them. Anybody she accused could easily have denied it.”

“That’s what she gave her life for? A bunch of paperwork?” Running his fingers through his short, dark hair he began to pace. “And you didn’t stop her?”

Sara was trembling, inside and out. She clenched her fingers together. “I tried. She wouldn’t listen. I told her the flood water was getting too high, moving too fast, but she was determined.”

“You could have grabbed her, shaken some sense into her.”

“I did!” Gulping back sobs Sara relived that terrible evening in a flash. “I was holding on to her slicker. It was wet. My hand slipped.” She inhaled shakily. “And then she was gone.”

Watching Adam’s reaction, Sara realized he was accepting her story. When he said, “I’m sorry, but at least that explains a few things,” she arched an eyebrow and stared, waiting for him to go on.

“I got texts from Vicki the evening she disappeared.” He plopped down on the wide rear bumper of his engine, leaned his elbows on his knees and bowed his head.

“When?” Sara cautiously joined him.

“Around six. It was already dark here so the sun would have been setting where you were, too. She told me you two were okay, then mentioned the mystery game we used to play when we were kids. The game where one of you pretended to be Holmes and the other one Watson.”

“That’s it? That’s all?”

“Pretty much,” Adam said with a sigh. “I texted back for details but she never replied.”

Mirroring his pose, Sara nevertheless kept her distance. The chrome platform of the bumper was cold, even through heavy fire-protective clothing. “That must have been right before she put on her rain gear and headed outside.” An icy shiver zinged up her spine. Had the influence of Vicki’s discovery followed her all the way home to Missouri?

“Maybe whoever was shooting at me thinks I can expose that crime. Vicki and I were always together. How would they know I can’t prove a thing?”

Turning slightly to face her, Adam scowled. “The only way they would was if Vicki had told them so and they’d believed her. And that’s only plausible if she didn’t drown before...”

Wide-eyed, Sara pivoted to stare back at him. “Before?”

His jaw muscles worked as if he could barely make himself speak. “Before they had a chance to kill her.”

“That is so not funny.”

“It wasn’t meant to be.”

“Vicki drowned accidentally. The coroner signed off on her death without question.”

“Because he was sure or because he was buried in work? No pun intended.”

“You were at her funeral. You saw her, same as I did. There wasn’t a mark on her.” Sara’s voice broke and she had to pause to recover. “She did something foolish and the flood took her. She wasn’t the only victim but she was the only one from our missionary group.”

“Until today,” Adam reminded her.

“Yes. Until Rodrigo.” The memory of the failed rescue would probably stick in her memory the rest of her life. As a nurse she had seen death, of course, but always in a hospital setting where she and her coworkers could work hard to stave off the inevitable. Acting as a volunteer EMT was harder. In the field she was reduced to guessing the severity of injuries and praying she was making the right diagnoses.

Losing Vicki had shaken Sara’s faith to the point that she’d begun to question her effectiveness as a nurse and as a praying Christian. She’d sent up hours of fervent prayers for her cousin, yet Vicki was gone. If God had heard her and denied her request, as Scripture taught could happen, she wasn’t at all happy about it, let alone ready to accept it.

And then there was the matter of poor Rodrigo. Why had he been inside the burning apartment? Why had he followed her home to Paradise? Vicki had seemed romantically attracted to him during their brief trip but they hadn’t had time to develop a real relationship. Or had they?

Sara sighed quietly. Vicki was easy to like, easy to talk to. Men and women both warmed up to her immediately. Unlike me. She chanced a sidelong glance at Adam. He’d been the same way, always laughing and enjoying her cousin’s company a lot more than hers. The hardest test for Sara was when they had both bid him goodbye after his enlistment. Vicki had thrown her arms around his neck and even stolen a kiss, but when it had been Sara’s turn Adam had acted embarrassed and resisted. All in all, she had loved her cousin and envied her at the same time.

Admitting that character flaw only added to Sara’s sense of personal guilt. If Adam was right and her cousin had been purposely drowned, perhaps it was time to redeem herself by trying to uncover the truth.

But how? The only concrete tie to the missionary volunteers was Rodrigo. How was she ever going to learn how involved Vicki may have been with him? Her diary! Maybe she’d confided secrets in those pages. All Sara had to do was figure out a way to get a peek at the diary, assuming it had been sent home with her cousin’s other personal possessions instead of accidentally destroyed or kept by the Texas police. It would be wonderful to uncover a budding romance because it might indicate that Rigo’s visit to Paradise wasn’t made for nefarious reasons.

Remembering Vicki’s recent funeral and the way Helen, Vicki’s mother, had wept and wailed and spread accusations of blame, Sara realized she’d almost rather be shot at again than have to approach that grieving woman and ask for a peek at Vicki’s journal.

Another thought intruded, pulling her back to the elements that she was certain about. Her gaze met Adam’s. “Wait a second. Rodrigo was inside the burning apartment. We know he couldn’t have shot at us. So who did?”

Adam’s incredulous expression made her feel foolish. When he huffed, rolled his eyes and said, “Took you long enough,” she realized he had already asked himself the same question, probably hours ago.

As far as Sara was concerned, that proved how distracted she still was and how inept she’d been acting since returning to Paradise. For a person who prided herself on having it all together and functioning at the highest level, that realization was distressing. Not only was she more vulnerable while her brain took a vacation, so were the fire department volunteers she worked with. That failing was not acceptable to her and it certainly should not be acceptable to the fire chief.

What galled her most was that it was Adam Kane she cared most about impressing. Right now he was acting as if she should be able to focus, to think as clearly as she usually did.

Unfortunately, nothing could be further from the truth. Her life was falling apart around her and she hadn’t a clue what to do about it.

THREE

Adam was determined to escort Sara home from the fire station that night whether she liked it or not. It wasn’t a difficult chore since she lived in one of the apartments located above the offices and shops that lined all four sides of the Paradise town square. An old-fashioned courthouse sat in the center while police and fire stations were on Church Street, a short block east off the main drag.

“I jogged over. I can walk home,” she insisted.

“Good for you. Humor me and get in.” He held the door to his ranch pickup truck open for her before circling and sliding behind the wheel.

“Aren’t you on duty tonight?”

“Yes. But I won’t be far away. I have everything I need with me in case we get another call.”

“I sure hope we don’t.”

“Yeah, me, too.” He turned the final corner and pulled to the curb in front of Sara’s apartment, above Cynthia Weatherly’s insurance agency office. He got out and circled to open the passenger door.

“I can open my own doors, Adam.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, clearly mocking.

“All right. Sorry. Thanks.”

“My pleasure.”

He trailed close behind, almost bumping into Sara when she stopped on the stairs and asked, “What are you doing?”

“Seeing you to your door.”

“Why?”

“Because the chief of police asked me to.” And because there is no way I’m going to let you walk into possible danger without me.

“That’s ridiculous. Besides, since when is Chief Magill giving orders to Chief Ellis’s firefighters?”

“Since one of his deputies has the flu and the others are still at the scene of the fire, looking for clues to who took those potshots at you.”

Lights around the courthouse cast a yellowish glow and sent shadows all the way across the street to engulf the exterior staircase of the brick-faced building. It was situations like this that he’d learned to avoid in a war zone. Where there was darkness, there could be a hidden enemy—and often was.

Adam grasped Sara’s upper arms through the sleeves of her light jacket. “Look, I don’t care whether you believe you’re in danger or not. Denial won’t change reality. I don’t know why you were a target tonight but I don’t doubt for a second that you were. Whether or not the shooter meant to hit you is the only thing in question. He did miss.”

She faced him, her chin jutting. “Are you this touchy because somebody tried to shoot you, too?”

The guttural noise Adam made as he threw both hands into the air was totally instinctive. The woman was impossible. And so special it made him crazy.

Refocusing, he managed to affect a calmer demeanor. “What is it with you, Sara? Why can’t you just accept a good deed without psychoanalyzing it or inventing excuses for why it isn’t genuine?”

He didn’t know what kind of response he’d expected but it sure wasn’t the one he got. Blinking back unshed tears, she stood tall. “Because I don’t deserve it, Adam. You were right. It’s my fault Vicki died. I should never have encouraged her to go on the mission trip with me in the first place, and I should have tied her to a tree that night if that was what it took to keep her safe.”

“You had no way of knowing what was going to happen.”

“No, but I did have strong misgivings. She was so excited and so proud to have uncovered what she thought was corruption I probably didn’t try hard enough to talk her out of wading into the water. I could have stopped her, somehow. I should have done more.” Sara paused to sniffle. “I should have gone with her, at the very least. Then maybe she’d still be alive.”

Adam placed his hands gently on her shoulders and shook his head. “No, Sara. You could both have died.”

“Maybe that would have been for the best.”

As she covered her eyes and began to sob he gave in to the urge to embrace her, to pull her close. His heart was pounding and his breath shuddered as she wept against his uniform shirt.

He wanted to kiss her, to hold her and promise to never let her go. To assure her that losing her would have made his heart ache until the end of time.

Instead, he understood her survivor’s guilt and simply said, “No. It wouldn’t.”

* * *

Sara didn’t know how long they stood there. Nor did she care. These were the tears she hadn’t yet been able to shed for her loss and having Adam there, supporting her, was an unbelievable relief and comfort. Finally, she eased away. “Sorry. I got your shirt all wet.”

“It’s not the first time I’ve been wet tonight,” he quipped. Lifting his head he pointed with his chin. “Go on up whenever you’re ready. I’ll wait right here and watch until I see you’re safely inside.”

Managing a smile she wiped her damp cheeks with her fingertips. “I thought you were coming with me.”

“I still will if that’s what you want. I just thought it might be awkward, considering...”

This was his standard reaction to being too close to her, she recalled, feeling a little miffed. Well, she could hardly blame him. After all, she had just spent far too long clinging to him and crying her eyes out. Yes, her motives were innocent but it was perfectly natural for him to be uneasy. In view of the fluttering in her veins and an undeniable sense of excitement, she wasn’t all that comfortable with their present situation, either.

Her smile widened and she patted his arm. “I get it. You’re right. I would rather go up alone. I assure you, I’m quite capable of unlocking my own door. Been doing it for years. Good night, Adam.”

“Good night.”

Without further delay Sara completed her climb and fitted her key in the lock. Hesitating on the landing, she waved goodbye to him, hoping her crying jag hadn’t permanently spoiled his good opinion of her. Adam had always been a reliable friend. A rock. Even if he never chose to see her as anything more than a buddy she’d have to be content.

Blanketed by her errant thoughts and feelings she broke eye contact.

Opened the door and took a step into the apartment.

Gasped. And screamed!

Adam was taking the stairs two at a time before he even realized he was moving. He burst in behind her, expecting a flesh-and-blood adversary. Instead, he was looking at the worst job of vandalism he’d ever seen. Furniture was slashed and overturned. Cupboards gaped open with their contents strewn on the floor, much of it broken. A fractured floor lamp lay across the end of the coffee table as if it had been used as a battering ram.

He pushed Sara behind him. “Stay here while I check the way I should have in the first place.”

A crimson footprint low on one wall showed clearly because someone had dumped a gallon of red paint onto the hardwood floor and stepped in the puddle before kicking anything in the way. Paint was also flung up the walls and onto the sofa. What looked like the remains of all of Sara’s clean nurse’s scrubs had been stomped into the sticky mess until the fabric was hardly recognizable.

Circling the carnage as best he could, Adam checked the small bedroom and bath before returning to her.

“Anything else?” she asked with a tremor in her voice.

“Nobody’s here but us, if that’s what you mean,” Adam assured her. “Call the police.”

“I already did. They’re pulling a couple of guys off the investigation of the shooting.”

“Good. I don’t expect them to find anything out there anyway. There’s a better chance of turning up clues in here.”

“Do you think the incidents are connected? I mean, the methods are very different.”

“It’s more likely than not. Whoever broke into your apartment must have figured you’d be gone with the volunteers and he’d have plenty of time to do this damage.”

She wavered and he cupped her elbow to steady her. “You okay?”

“Not really. What am I going to do?”

“Take one thing at a time. Let’s go back down to my truck to wait for the cops. You can’t stay here.” He could tell she was staggered by the avalanche of problems. “Look, why don’t you call an out-of-town friend and see if she can put you up for a few nights? Leave Paradise until the cops have some answers.”

“And chance bringing this kind of disaster on somebody else? No way. I suppose I can get a motel room. Or crash at the hospital in the employees’ lounge.”

“Neither of those choices is any safer for you than sleeping on one of the benches on the courthouse lawn across the street,” Adam countered. A heartbeat later he added, “All right. You’re coming to the ranch with me.”

Sara rolled her eyes. “I don’t think so.”

“Why not?” He gave her his best skeptical look while wondering what she’d come up with for a plausible argument.

“Because it’s not right.”

“If it’s okay with me and my brothers I don’t see a problem. Besides, if you’re uncomfortable being alone with me I can ask Carter and his wife to give you a place to sleep over at their house.”

“No way. They have small children. I’d never take the chance they’d be put in danger.”

Adam sobered. “So you do agree this is some kind of vendetta?”

“It must be,” she answered softly. “I mean, look at my place. I won’t be able to salvage any of my uniforms and the furniture is too spoiled to use again.”

“That was yours, too?”

“Some of it was. Most came with the apartment. I didn’t need much room when my folks were still in Paradise, so I rented this place from Cynthia. Any time I started to get claustrophobic I could always drive to the farm and chill out in Dad’s woods or fish in his pond. I suppose I should have looked for another place to live after they retired and moved to California, but I never got around to it.”

“Your dad has a brother there, right?”

“Yes. And speaking of brothers, what are Carter and Kurt going to think when you show up on the ranch with a surprise houseguest?”

“I will be teased unmercifully until we tell them why you’re there, but I’m willing to take the heat if you are. Mrs. K comes in a few days a week to cook and clean for me. I can ask her to stay over if it would make you more comfortable.”

“We don’t need to add another potential victim.”

“Right.” He had been smiling as he pictured being teased. Now, he sobered and sighed. “You really can trust me, you know.”

“I know I can. It’s not you—or your brothers—I’m worried about. It’s town gossip. The Bible says we shouldn’t do anything that gives even a hint of sin because it reflects poorly on our Lord.”

“So, you’re not avoiding me?”

Sara was shaking her head and Adam spotted fresh tears pooling in her eyes. “Of course not. We’re old friends. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather count on.”

He was touched. “Thank you.”

She swayed toward him for an instant and he imagined her falling into his embrace once again. Was that what he wanted? Was it fair to get involved with her, or with any woman, when he knew the fighting and killing he’d endured as a marine had hardened his heart and changed him in ways he was still discovering?

Getting down to basics, the most important thing was staying close to Sara until whoever was causing all the trouble was unmasked. How he was going to do that when they went to separate jobs was not going to be easy. Truth to tell, nothing about his relationship with Sara Southerland ever had been, even when they were kids and he had called her a little squirt.

Adam placed a hand at the small of her back and reached toward the door handle of his truck cab. “I think you’d better sit down before you fall down. Get in.”

Her quick glance of consternation pleased him. Better she should be thinking about him than about her circumstances.

Braced with one hand on the door, one foot inside on the floorboard, Sara hesitated. “I hear sirens. Must be the police.”

“Probably, since my pager hasn’t gone off,” he replied, feeling a sense of relief, short-lived though it might be. Paradise was always quiet at this time of night, so the curious would be peering out windows or trying to learn the reason for the sirens by listening to scanners and calling friends. Soon, they’d have plenty of company on the square and he’d have an even harder time keeping Sara isolated.

The wail of the patrol cars grew louder. Sara had remained standing, half in, half out of his pickup. Watching for the police, Adam noticed a white sedan cruising past followed by a dark-colored SUV. Both drivers were moving slowly and peering out at the area around the apartment.

Hair at the nape of his neck prickled. Few locals were yet aware of the location of the break-in, so why were these drivers acting so interested?

Windows of both vehicles were rolled down, something he found a bit unusual considering the cool April night. Still, there was no law against getting fresh air.

Sara’s drawn-out “Adam...” temporarily redirected his attention to her—only she wasn’t looking at him, she was staring at the passing cars.

Suddenly her hands shot out. Her fingers fisted handfuls of his shirt like the talons of an eagle and yanked.

Adam tried to halt his fall but Sara had simultaneously thrown herself on to the truck seat, and momentum carried him down with her.

Then he felt the reverberation of multiple gunshots, heard a window shatter above his head and got the true picture.

Sara’s quick thinking and decisive action had just saved his life. She might not know why thugs were pursuing her but in some ways she was behaving more rationally than he was. He couldn’t believe he’d actually let her go alone to open that apartment door without backup.

Sounds of at least one engine revving echoed through the still night air. Tires squealed.

Adam pressed his cheek to Sara’s and held her as tightly as he dared. Even a marine couldn’t fight bullets with his bare hands. This was the last time he’d go anywhere unarmed until they were sure this threat had passed. Anybody who wanted to get to Sara Southerland would have to take him out first.

FOUR

Seconds crept by as if time had all but stopped. Sara made a token effort to wriggle free. Her back was bent against the edge of the seat and muscles were starting to cramp but, truth to tell, she was in no hurry to escape Adam’s up-close-and-personal protection.

His voice was raspy. “You okay?”

“I—I think so. Are you?”

“Apparently.”

She held very still as he levered himself onto his elbows and peered out at the street. “Are they gone?”

Nodding, Adam stood and held out his hand to her. Nothing pleased Sara more than the chance to grab it and hold on. His grip was firm and she could feel calluses from his hard work at both the fire station and his family-owned ranch. Yes, his touch was tender but there was also comforting substance and power to it.

Sara slid off the seat to stand beside him, keeping hold of his hand and helping Adam brush tiny glass crystals off his head and shoulders. “Did you see who it was?”

“Not clearly enough for an identification. How about you?” He ran a hand over his military haircut, then told Sara to bend forward so he could ruffle her hair, just in case there was glass in it, too.

She couldn’t help shivering. “I hardly remember a thing. All I saw was the barrel of a gun pointing at us and I panicked. What a night.” And judging by the sound of approaching sirens it wasn’t over yet. “I didn’t recognize anything about the cars. Did they have Missouri plates?”

“Don’t know.” Adam tried to let go of her hand. Sara resisted until he said, “I need to go talk to the sheriff. I’ll be right over there.”

“Then we both will be,” she countered. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

To her relief he looped an arm around her waist and pulled her to his side. “Never crossed my mind...”

She was ready to set aside her misgivings about the way Adam felt regarding their relationship until he added, “Buddy,” instead of using her name.

Of course they were friends. That went without saying. And, if she were honest with herself, there was comfort in such camaraderie. Sara couldn’t help it if her emotions had soared higher and faster than his. Or that no other man in her life had ever come close to measuring up to her childhood friend. Adam was not only handsome. He was kind and intelligent and could practically read her mind.

Except he was overlooking her when it came to romance, wasn’t he? She sighed. There had been a time when she had thought his heart belonged to Vicki, yet he didn’t seem to be grieving as much as Vicki’s poor family. Then again, he’d been a marine and had seen combat so perhaps he was just good at hiding his feelings.

“I wish...” Sara muttered, surprised when Adam took notice.

“What?”

“I was talking to myself,” she alibied, keeping her head bowed so he couldn’t see her flaming cheeks.

He gave her a little squeeze. “Hang in there. As soon as the police let us go I’ll get coverage for the last few hours of my shift and we’ll go to my place.”

Her wry wit surfaced and she gave him a lopsided smile. “You mean like a stray pup. It followed me home—can I keep it?”

“Yeah. Something like that.” They joined a sheriff’s deputy at his patrol car while other police officers were cautiously climbing the stairs to Sara’s apartment, guns drawn.

Sara realized she had actually gone to school with this man, too, although she would never have predicted that such a troublesome kid would end up on the right side of the law. She nodded to him. “Hi, Tiger.”

He stammered and cleared his throat. “You can call me Elmer. I don’t use that nickname anymore.”

“I thought you hated Elmer.”

“I did. Still do. But my boss thought it sounded bad to go by Tiger, so I don’t.”

“Understandable.”

Elmer eyed Adam. “Rough night, huh?”

“You have no idea. So far, Sara has been shot at three times, once here and twice at the scene of the fire we just put out over on County Road Seventeen.”

“That’s why they sent me this time. I heard there was a fatality out there.”

Sara spoke up. “He died of smoke inhalation. Has the victim...has Rodrigo been sent to Springfield for an autopsy?”

“That’s what we usually do, so I imagine so,” Elmer replied. “Tell me about what happened here.”

“It was a drive-by,” Adam said. “We’d just discovered the vandalism in Sara’s apartment and were waiting by my truck for the police.”

“Did you recognize the vehicles involved?”

“No. One was an older car and one a fairly new, dark-colored SUV,” Adam said while Sara nodded agreement.

“Maybe it was just teenagers stirring up trouble.” As he spoke he was making a show of examining the truck with a flashlight. “Looks like the only damage was the busted window.”

Despite her normally level temperament, Sara was beginning to get upset. “Listen, Tiger, you may have done that kind of thing when you were a kid but these shooters were not young. At least one of them wasn’t. Part of his arm was sticking out the passenger-side window and I saw dark, splotchy colors on it, like maybe a tattoo, so don’t pass this off as simple teenage mischief. My apartment is soaked in red paint, my furniture was slashed, and somebody has been taking potshots at me tonight. This is no little, inconsequential prank. Okay?”

“Got it. Sorry.” Hands raised, he took a backward step toward his cruiser. “I’ll radio what you told me and all units will keep a lookout, but with such generic descriptions of the vehicles I don’t expect results. Come daylight we’ll see if we can find what’s left of the bullets that passed through your truck window. If you think of anything else, give dispatch a call.”

Adam raised a hand in parting. “Will do. If you need us we’ll be out at the ranch.”

Sara noticed the officer’s momentary pause before he entered his car. “I wish you hadn’t told him that. It’s going to be all over town by dawn, you know.”

“Everything always is,” Adam countered. “It’s only when folks try to hide what they’re doing that it becomes suspicious.”

“I suppose you’re right. At any rate, when they spot my car out at your ranch there will be no doubt.”

“I said I’d drive you.”

“I know. I just want my own wheels.” Looking toward the diagonal parking spots across the street she frowned. “Hold on. Does my car look strange to you?”

He took a moment. “Yes. I’d say it has at least two flat tires.”

“Terrific.” Her shoulders sagged under the added burden. “I thought all they were aiming at was us and your truck. How could a stray bullet have hit more than one wheel?”

“We don’t know that the shooting here has anything to do with your flats. Come on. As soon as we’ve reported the latest damage and I’m free to clean the glass off my truck seats, I’ll check at the fire station and make sure there’s enough coverage tonight.” He looked at his watch. “It’s only a couple of hours till my shift is over, anyway.”

“Then how much time do you have off?” Sara asked, hoping it would be more than one day.

“Normally, we do three on and four off,” Adam explained. “Under the circumstances I can probably take a little more time off than that.”

“No. I don’t want you to jeopardize your job. Besides, do you actually believe a few days will be long enough to solve these crimes?”

A shiver skittered up her spine when Adam looked straight into her eyes and said, “No. I’ll be surprised if we ever figure everything out.”

Sara was fighting tears when he added, “But I’ll look out for you as long as you’re in danger. I promise.”

* * *

Adam already had firefighting gear with him in case of an emergency callback so he was able to arrange the scheduling change by phone.

He glanced over at Sara, seated beside him in the cab of his pickup. “It’s all set. We can leave right away.”

Although she didn’t argue he could tell she was brooding. She proved it by saying, “I wish they’d let me back in my apartment to at least grab a change of clothes.”

“You can borrow what you need from Carter’s wife, Missy. I think she’s about your size.” Adam smiled, hoping to lift her mood. “I imagine the crime-scene folks will release your apartment in a day or so, but it will still be a mess.”

“I probably should talk to my landlady in case the police don’t call her right away. She’s going to be very upset. I know I am.”

“None of this is your fault, Sara.”

Her head snapped around. “You’re kidding, right? How can I not feel this is personal? Somebody is really mad at me and I haven’t done one thing to earn it.”

A few miles passed before Adam made a suggestion, hoping she wouldn’t go ballistic on him. “Actually, I can think of a couple of possible reasons for your troubles. One, there’s the matter of the thefts Vicki thought she had uncovered in Texas. Even if she was imagining a crime where there was none, she could have stirred the pot, so to speak.”

“If there was no crime to be proved, then nobody from down south would care,” Sara countered. “And there would be no good reason for Rodrigo to have come all the way up here unless he and Vicki had developed a serious romance.”

“You assume he came because of her?”

“He must have. They were overly familiar on our trip and he ended up dying in her apartment. How much more connection do you want?”

“It’s probably not going to be enough to satisfy the police about him but you do have a point.”

“I certainly do.” Adam felt her eyes on him and glanced her way just as she asked, “You said a couple of reasons. What’s the second one?”

“Um. That’s a bit harder to swallow. I was thinking of the Babcock family and their friends. Vicki’s kin may be angrier than they acted at her funeral.”

Sara was rolling her eyes as he returned his concentration to the road ahead. “If any of them are madder than my Aunt Helen, I’m in real trouble. If looks could have killed I’d already be on the wrong side of the grass.”

“Helen was grieving, Sara. I’m sure she didn’t mean whatever she said to you.”

“That’s the problem. There was no real confrontation. She just stared daggers at me.” She sighed. “Maybe if my folks had managed to make it back for the service it wouldn’t have been so bad, but Dad’s heart condition won’t permit travel.”

Sara folded her arms and hugged herself. Adam thought he saw a shiver. “Are you cold? I never considered not being able to roll up the window.”

“It’s not the weather that chills me,” she replied, “it’s the atmosphere in this town since I came back without my cousin. Nobody seems to remember that she was my best friend. We were closer than sisters when we were growing up together.”

Sober and sympathetic, Adam nodded. “I know. That’s another reason for everybody to wonder why you weren’t able to stop her the night she drowned.”

“You, too, Adam?” Sara’s words were shaky, her tone and inflection conveying disappointment.

He had overstepped, had hurt her when he’d merely been fishing for more information, for something, anything, that would put his and others’ minds at rest. He reached across the seat to pat her shoulder and she shied away.

“Look, I’m not blaming you, Sara. I know how confusing emergencies can be and how things can go wrong no matter how careful and diligent we are. But I also know you’re strong and will stand up for what you believe is right. Is that what happened? Did you let Vicki go because you wanted to nail the thieves as badly as she did? After all, stealing from a charity is the lowest kind of crime.”

“Despicable.” She shuddered. “But I wasn’t thinking of that. All I really recall is that arguing with Vicki was like banging my head against a brick wall. She was every bit as stubborn as you think I am. If I had been the one determined to save that evidence I doubt she could have talked me out of it, either.”

Adam refrained from agreeing and making things worse. He got it. He really did. But Sara seemed to be forgetting that her cousin had been his good friend, too, and he had also suffered a painful loss. Perhaps explaining that was how he could regain Sara’s trust.

He cleared his throat, his hands fisting on the steering wheel, his jaw firm. This was hard to even consider, let alone express, but he’d do his best.

“I—I loved her, too, Sara. Losing Vicki may not have hurt me in exactly the same way but I do understand how you feel.”

Watching out of the corner of his eye he saw her dabbing at her damp cheeks. Truth to tell, his own eyes were none too dry, although if she noticed he planned to blame the moisture on the aftereffects of fighting the fire.

“You loved her?”

“Of course I did. The three of us were great friends. That kind of special connection is rare.”

“Yes. Yes, it is.”

Adam noted that her head was lowered, her hair masking her cheeks, and her hands were folded in her lap. He wasn’t sure if she was crying or praying or both. It hardly mattered. He’d shared personal insight that he’d revealed to no one else because he wanted Sara to see things from his perspective. To understand that she didn’t have to grieve alone.

Remaining silent for the rest of the drive to his ranch, Adam let her mourn Vicki in her own way. He had shouted and railed at God when the news had reached Paradise and spread through the small town like wildfire. In the four days between that sad event and Sara’s return he’d had time to regain his self-control, at least enough to hide his more turbulent emotions.

Now, weeks later, Sara knew the truth. Losing a friend for whatever reason was a terrible blow to a person’s psyche as well as to his or her faith. His had been weak after his stint in the marine corps but recent events had tried it almost to the breaking point.

Adam thought of God and of the tasks he’d been given in his life. Hard ones. Painful ones. But, oh, so necessary. So right.

Yes, his faith had suffered and he continued to struggle against accepting the bad with the good. What he would have done, how he would have coped without a belief in a higher power, however, was unimaginable.

FIVE

Sara tensed as Adam wheeled his pickup beneath the wide, wrought-iron arch and onto the Kane ranch property. She had expected their arrival to be quiet if not stealthy. Instead, the main house was glowing from almost every window, including those upstairs.

“Oh, dear. It looks like they’re up waiting for us.”

“I called ahead,” Adam said. “I didn’t want to be shot as a prowler when I came in at an odd hour.”

“Ah.” She nodded. “That makes sense. I’ve lived in town for so long I’d forgotten how protective ranchers and farmers can be.”

“Anybody out in the country needs to be proactive,” he said. “We look after our own.”

“Maybe that’s what led you to becoming a firefighter.”

“Maybe. I truly wanted to help people. What made you decided to volunteer as an EMT when it’s so like your daily job?”

“Needed skills, I guess.” That was all she intended to say. To have gone on about her reasons might have revealed too many personal truths besides altruism, such as wanting to be involved because it brought her closer to Adam in training meetings and, of course, when responding to emergency calls. The ones for medical aid required at least one regular engine or truck besides the rescue squad, so it was common for her to encounter him in the field.

“Well, we do need good volunteers and I’m glad you’re one of them. You ought to try to recruit a few more medical professionals like yourself. We can always use more help.”

“I’ll remember that.”

She shuddered as Adam parked. A gaggle of folks were waiting on the front porch. Farm dogs raced around his truck, jumping, barking and eager to see what all the excitement was about.

“Quite a welcoming committee,” Sara said. “Kind of overwhelming, particularly since they know about the trouble in town.” She paused and scowled. “You did warn them, didn’t you?”

“Yes. I guess they’re just glad to see you. What’s the problem?”

“No problem.” Sara forced a smile. “I’m so tired I was hoping to grab a quick shower and go to bed, not socialize.”

“We won’t keep you up. They just want to see that you’re okay.”

Was she okay? She sighed. Sure. She was fine considering that she could be in the hospital with a gunshot wound, or worse. Put that way she was more than fine. She was blessed beyond words. Nevertheless, running the gauntlet of Adam’s big, magnanimous family was daunting.

She pasted a smile on her face, tried to control threatening tears and climbed out of the truck. This kind of warm welcome was unbelievable, particularly since half of Paradise seemed to blame her for Vicki’s drowning. Or did they? This was not the first time it had occurred to Sara that she herself might feel so responsible she was imagining critical stares from others.

Helen Babcock’s reaction had been a different story, of course. As Vicki’s mother, Helen was entitled to place blame wherever she wanted. Sara was willing to tolerate the poor woman’s hurtful accusations. Anything was okay if it helped her work through maternal grief and eventually cope with the horrendous loss. Yes, Helen had one remaining child—a grown son, Will—but that didn’t negate Vicki’s untimely death.

The Kanes gathered around Adam and Sara, peppering them with questions as he shepherded her up the porch steps. “We’re fine, we’re fine,” he insisted. “Right now, what Sara needs most is a place to sleep and some clean clothes.” His brother Carter’s wife was holding a sleeping toddler while her husband held another. “Missy, can you loan her a few things until the police let Sara get back into her apartment?”

“Sure.” The dark-haired, petite woman frowned. “I thought she was here because somebody shot at her. What happened to her apartment?”

Sara grimaced. “You wouldn’t believe the mess. Somebody trashed the place and poured gallons of red paint all over everything.”

Missy’s brown eyes widened. “No way.”

“Yes way,” Adam said. “That’s why she can’t stay in town and why I thought it best to give her a break out here. Between me and Carter and Kurt we should be able to fend off any sneak attacks.”

Sara noted how other members of Adam’s family began to fall back, inching away from her. The parents carrying the sleepy children held them closer and actually covered the backs of their tousled heads with a hand.

“I really am sorry,” Sara said. “I offered to get a motel room or crash at the hospital but Adam insisted I come here.” She glanced up at him. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.”

“Nonsense.” The group gave way as he ushered her through the front door. “You can have my room and I’ll bunk with Kurt for a few nights. He snores but I have ear plugs.”

The brother who looked enough like Adam to be his twin laughed. “Not as loud as you do, bro.”

When Kurt grinned at Sara she was relieved. “I’m so tired tonight I can probably sleep through anything.”

“Terrific. I’ll run over to Missy and Carter’s house and bring back some clothes for you.” Kurt’s smile gentled, making the resemblance to Adam even stronger.

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“No sweat. Back in a few minutes.”

Once they were alone, Adam gestured toward the stairway. “After you.”

“Your brother is very nice. I didn’t know him that well in school.”

“That’s right. You did skip a couple of grades, didn’t you?”

She nodded. “Sadly, yes. My parents were so proud of my accomplishments they never considered the social repercussions of pushing me ahead of my peers. I never did fit in.” Except with you and Vicki.

“Sure, you did.”

Unwilling to argue the point, Sara dropped the subject. Adam had been a star high-school football player, successful 4-H and Future Farmers of America member, honor student and all-around popular jock, while she had struggled to maintain perfect grades to the exclusion of extracurricular activities.

He ushered her to a second-story room at the end of a short hallway. “Here you go. I’ll just grab a few of my things and get out of your way.” He proceeded to do so, filling his arms. “You have your own private bath so nobody will bother you.”

“Where will you be?” She knew her voice was not its normal pitch and hoped he didn’t think she was whining.

“Right next door. Kurt was only half kidding. You’ll probably hear one or both of us snoring.”

That suited her just fine. She managed a smile. “Good.”

Clutching the messy stack of clothes he backed through the open door. “Good night, then. I’ll have Kurt drop the stuff from Missy right out here in the hall.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

And then he was gone, leaving Sara feeling as if she had just been marooned on a desert island while her ship sailed away. Only she wasn’t truly alone, was she? Adam and his brother were going to be in the next room and if she could hear them snoring, they would also be able to hear her if she cried out.

Deciding to wait until she had something clean to put on after her shower, she looked around the room. It was clearly masculine and she imagined it might smell a little smoky because of its regular occupant. Though she and Adam were longtime friends she had never been in this room before. Truth to tell, she didn’t remember much about the rest of the ranch, either, although she and Vicki had been invited out there to ride horses a few times.

Picturing Adam in his Western attire, complete with boots and a cowboy hat, made him seem entirely different. It was as if donning his fire department gear transformed him. He was very serious then, hardly ever laughing unless the training session or actual call was over. Once that happened, the firefighters behaved the same as overworked ER doctors and nurses and not only traded jokes, they rehashed recent traumas and looked for humor in everything. It was hard for civilians to understand doing that but Sara did. It was a necessary coping mechanism, one she imagined he had used as a marine on active duty, too.

She sighed as she strolled to the window and opened it to let in fresh air. A whippoorwill called in the distance and another, closer, answered. That meant they were nesting and chances of a late spring frost had passed.

The lights in the second house on the ranch flicked off, room after room. Missy and her family were going back to bed. Therefore, Kurt should have returned by now with her clean clothes.

She started to turn away from the window when something beyond the front gates caught her eye. Headlights of a car or truck were slowly passing on the road. Could they be looking for the Kane ranch? For her? Was that why the vehicle was creeping along?

Sara pushed back one side of the sheer curtains so she could see more clearly. The car was stopping. Her heart pounded erratically. The headlights blinked off.

Pivoting back against the wall she fought to catch her breath. She’d been silhouetted in that window like a paper practice target. Any hunter with a decent scope on his rifle would have no trouble sighting in on her. Getting her in his crosshairs. Pulling the trigger.

A scream lodged in her tight throat. She squelched the urge to wail and instead tried to call out.

“Adam?” What a pitiful attempt, she thought, disgusted with herself.

Taking a deeper breath she filled her lungs and did better. “Aa-dam! Adam!”

“Sara? Is that you?” was faint through the dividing wall but proved he’d heard her.

She redoubled her efforts with a hair-curling, spine-tingling, earsplitting version of “Adam!” that practically rattled the window pane.

He rushed through the bedroom door accompanied by his brother, half tripping over the pile of clothing from Missy.

“What is it?” His hands cupped her shoulders. “You’re shaking.”

“Outside. On the road...” she began.

While Adam continued to hold on to her, Kurt shaded his eyes and leaned closer to the window.

Sara jerked loose from Adam and launched herself at his brother, knocking him aside and ending up on the floor beside him. Hardly able to speak, she resorted to single words to try to make her point. “Car. Road. Target.”

“You saw something from the window, you mean?” Adam asked, taking Kurt’s place at the glass as if totally disregarding her warning.

“Get down!” It was a wail.

“Okay, okay.” He gave his brother a hand up, then reached for Sara.

“Stay. Away. From. That. Window.”

“We get it,” Kurt said, dusting off his jeans as if he’d fallen in a muddy pasture instead of onto a rug. He crossed the room to flip off the ceiling light. “Now, we can see out but nobody can see in.”

“The moon’s full. They can still see the window even if they can’t see inside,” Adam reminded him.

“What makes you guys think anybody would be shooting at this house?” Kurt asked.

“Because they took out the side window in my truck a couple of hours ago, for starters,” Adam explained.

“So you said. But that was back in town. I don’t see a thing wrong here.”

“Neither did Adam and I, earlier,” Sara said, speaking past a telltale vocal tremor, “until the bullets started flying.”

* * *

As far as Adam was concerned, anything that bothered Sara bothered him. Kurt was not quite so empathetic after they left her and went back to their shared bedroom.

“I’ll take the shotgun and go have a look around,” Adam said. “You can come along and back me up.”

Kurt was shaking his head. “Not me, bro. I have better sense than to go prowling around in the dark—and so do you. Besides, neither of us saw any boogeymen.”

“Sara thinks she did,” Adam countered, keeping his voice down so she would overhear in the next room. “Something strange has been going on with her. I’m just not sure what it is yet.”

“Well, she’s pretty.” Kurt grinned and winked. “Maybe you’d like to romance her and becoming her guard is your way to convince her to rely on you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re just old friends and she needs help right now.”

“Honestly?” The slightly younger brother’s dark eyebrows arched. “Then I suppose you wouldn’t mind if I asked her out.”

“What?”

Kurt laughed. “You know what I mean. Boy. Girl. Dinner and a movie, maybe. A date?”

Adam knew exactly what his brother meant and he didn’t like the idea one bit. Still, Sara could do worse. Kurt was a good man, a little immature sometimes but basically kind. And he had built-in financial stability via his inherited third of Kane Ranch. Given Adam’s sense of responsibility for all the people in his life, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to stand back and let his brother approach Sara. She needed somebody stable. Someone she could count on in ways Adam wasn’t convinced he could provide.

“Sure,” he said with a forced smile. “Just bring me takeout when and if you go out to eat, and you have my blessing.”

“Really? You’re not just saying that?”

“No. I mean it.” He sobered. “But if you break her heart you’ll have me to reckon with, baby brother. Remember that and behave yourself.”

Kurt backed away, hands raised, palms out, as Adam tucked the .12 gauge from their closet under one arm, grabbed his tan Stetson and headed for the door.

“Don’t you have any camo?” his brother asked. “That big hat makes you stand out like a duck in a shooting gallery.”

“Good point.” He exchanged the familiar Stetson for a black baseball cap. “Better?”

“Yeah. Lots.” Kurt laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder to stop him. “Wait up. I will come with you.”

“You don’t have to.”

The younger man chuckled. “Yes, I do.”

“I appreciate it,” Adam said. “That’s what brothers are for, right?”

Kurt’s laugh got louder and he clapped Adam on the back. “Sure. And if I go along to protect you, maybe some of that overblown hero worship Sara has for you will rub off on me.”

“She doesn’t think I’m a hero,” Adam countered.

Kurt was still chuckling when they left the house together. Adam was not amused. He had never viewed himself as a hero. On the contrary, he was just a normal man doing his best. If the situations he encountered were tough, so be it. Life had never been easy for him the way it seemed to be for so many others. Perhaps that was because he took it too seriously. He couldn’t help himself.

That’s the way he judged his feelings in regard to Sara, too. The fondness he had for her was deep and solid, not frivolous the way his brother was treating it. There was nothing funny about caring for Sara while believing she would be far better off with someone other than himself.

Clenching his jaw and starting off the porch toward the barn to use it as temporary cover, Adam realized he’d have a much easier time accepting her choice of another man if that choice was anyone other than his handsome, easygoing brother.

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