FOUR
Panic gripping him in a tight vise, Colt bolted from his truck, firing at the gunman standing beside Maren’s car. Had the guy already put a bullet in Maren?
A wave of dread and nausea rolled over Colt.
The man spun and shot back at him. Colt dove to the side, rolled and came up on one knee, firing again at the gunman. The masked assailant screamed as a bullet lodged in his shoulder, and he practically fell back into the van.
The vehicle took off in a squeal of tires, taking the injured gunman with it.
Fearing for Maren, Colt lunged to his feet and ran to the Bronco, now lodged front-end first in the ditch on the side of the road. The second Colt watched the van race up behind Maren’s vehicle, he’d known something bad was going down. Seeing her back tire blow had his heart jumping into his throat.
But then, when the van jerked to a stop and a masked man jumped out, he’d nearly crashed into the ditch as well. He’d managed to stop in time to fend off the attack. At least he hoped so.
He reached the driver’s side of Maren’s vehicle. His heart slammed into his throat. She was slumped over onto the passenger seat. Her dark hair created a curtain that concealed her face. There was no visible blood that he could see but the lack didn’t mean she was unharmed. White powder from the steering wheel airbag floated in the air, landing on the glittering chunks of glass spewed all over Maren’s back and the driver’s seat.
From the back, Haven barked frantically and scratched at the partition between her compartment and the front seat.
“I know, I know,” Colt reassured the dog as he reached in through the broken shards left in the windowsill and undid the door latch, pulling the door open.
He reached for Maren, praying he wasn’t too late.
“Maren?” he said softly. His hands landed on her shoulders with a tremor running up his arms.
Please, Lord, please, don’t let her be injured. Or worse.
Slowly, she turned her head. Her panicked gaze met his. Then relief filled her face.
“It’s you,” she breathed out and sat up. Glass from the broken window slid off her back.
Unable to help himself he gathered her into his arms, cupping her face in his hands. “Are you hurt?”
“I don’t think so.” For a moment, she was pliant in his arms, then she pulled back, forcing him to release her. “I need to let Haven out.”
She reached for the key fob dangling from the ignition and popped open the side panel. Within seconds, the Doberman was crowding next to Colt in the open driver’s-side doorframe and frantically licking her partner’s face.
“Whoa, whoa,” Maren said gently, fending off the dog. “I’m okay. Everybody back up.”
Grabbing Haven’s collar, Colt tugged the dog away from the SUV, allowing Maren space so she could climb out of the vehicle.
“You’re sure you’re not hurt?” He heard the concern in his voice but was helpless to stop it. Scenes like this brought back memories of his cousin’s overdose and eventual death. Colt had been the one to find him and had done CPR, to no avail.
She tested her limbs and her neck before saying, “Everything seems to be in working order.”
Relief that she appeared unharmed flooded his system.
Her gaze dropped to Haven, who now sat quietly at Colt’s side. He still had a hold of the collar.
Maren’s mouth twisted in a wry grimace. “She usually doesn’t behave for anyone else but me.”
“I think these are extenuating circumstances.” He released his hold on the dog.
Haven immediately went to Maren and put her paws on Maren’s feet.
Maren reached down and scrubbed the dog behind the ears. “Good girl. I’m glad you’re okay, too.”
From his truck, he could hear Rusk barking. The dog had to be frantic with worry.
“Come on, let’s get you into my vehicle,” he said to Maren. “We can call this into the local dispatch and for a tow truck for your vehicle. I don’t like being out here. We’re too exposed.”
