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“You know how to ride?” McGovern asked.

“I took lessons when I was young. I was actually quite good,” Doyle said, hoping the thing couldn’t sense his nerves since it had been over a decade since he’d ridden. “But Teddy’s all alone back there. I have to go. Get Sadie. Do not tell her about Otto. I’ll handle it. Just get Caroline back to the resort. Call for backup.”

Doyle didn’t wait for a response, not caring if it would be argument or acknowledgement. He coaxed the horse forward and leaned in, urging her faster as they broke into a gallop. His ass might hurt later, but he had to get to Teddy before it was too late. He knew what Otto’s brother was capable of and suspected Otto was just as bad, if not worse.

All Doyle could see was Sadie’s body lying in the mud as Otto leaned over her. He dug his heels into the mare’s flanks, urging her forward even faster. If he touched one hair on that boy’s head—

No. He couldn’t think that way. He wouldn’t.

“Doyle,” Nicole’s voice sailed out of his wristband. “Doyle, McGovern filled us in. Do not engage. Do you hear me? Do not engage that man. This has gone far enough. We will not interfere in the timeline any further. The Watcher’s called everyone back. McGovern is on his way, and you should be too.”

Doyle gritted his teeth so hard pain shot through his skull.

“Acknowledge.” Nicole said.

He pressed forward, and the bend before the ranch came into view at last as sparks flew from his horse’s shoes.

“You’re risking your job, Doyle. Your future. I researched their names.”

As the house emerged over the horizon, the soft light of fire warming the window, Doyle slowed his horse.

“They died, Wally.” Nicole’s voice softened, but her words were clear.

He pulled up on the makeshift reins and leaped off and onto his feet.

“They’re alive,” he said, voice rough with emotion, still focused with anger on the man who may or may not have yet arrived.

“But they aren’t supposed to be.” Nicole drew a rattling breath, letting him know she felt something, and that’s what finally made him pause, halfway up the steps. “It’s not your fault, but it’s also not your responsibility.”

“I can’t knowingly let them get hurt,” Doyle whispered as he peered into the window to find everything still and quiet. No Teddy. No Otto.

“And I can’t let you or any of these people get hurt. Never mind screwing up the future,” Nicole said.

Doyle muffled the sound from his wrist as he scanned the shadows inside for any hint of trouble.

“You understand me, I know you do. You’re a smart man, Doyle. You know better than anyone what’s at risk.”

Suppressing a growl, he swallowed and whispered into the wristcom. “I’m just making sure nothing’s amiss. I’ll be back shortly with Caroline. I just need to be certain the sheriff has custody of this man before he hurts anyone. I know you understand me, as well, Ms. Bennet.”

“Do not engage,” Nicole said, and for the first time, Doyle thought he heard a note of uncertainty in her voice.

Suddenly, something yanked him upward.

“Where’s the woman?” Otto’s gravelly voice demanded as Doyle’s body left the ground.

He slammed into the wood frame of the house between the window and door. The breath was knocked from his body as Otto gripped his upper arms with the strength of a bear trap.

Doyle coughed, trying to recover enough to speak as Otto pressed into him, rotten breath making him gag.

“Well, pretty boy? I heard a woman’s voice. Where is she?”

“Not…here,” Doyle wheezed out.

One of Otto’s hands landed on Doyle’s throat and pushed down on his windpipe.

“Don’t want to tell me? Fine, she can watch you die first then.”

Even as his vision blackened at the edges, Doyle’s hand scrabbled at Otto’s arm and then down to his waist to find his gun.

“What’s this?” Otto yanked the weapon from his hand and let him go.

Doyle landed hard on his ass, sucking in air. What made him think he could possibly play cowboy? Just because he’d had the element of surprise when he’d saved Sadie didn’t mean Otto would fall for it twice. He wasn’t a cliché, he was a living, breathing human being.

“You little city-slicker, you thought you could shoot me?”

Otto clicked the safety off, and Doyle braced himself.

“Get on your knees,” Otto demanded.

Doyle pushed himself up and into a kneeling position then felt cold metal press into his temple. He winced, trying to think. He was smart. Surely there was something he could offer this man that would stop him from being killed in cold blood.

“I know where your brother is,” Doyle said and held his breath.