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“No!” Dane shouted, his fear for his child front and center. He grabbed for the man’s arm but was too late because two shots cracked the air and he watched in horror as the back tires of his truck blew out. His scream died in his throat as the truck swerved violently as the driver hit the brakes. The man next to him ripped free of the hold Dane didn’t even realize he still had on his arm and began running as the SUV coasted to a stop in the pasture next to the driveway.
Fear held him immobile as he watched the stranger aim into the driver’s side window and fire twice. His heart told him to move – to get to his daughter. But his mind was already trying to protect him from his loss and began shutting down. Without Emma there was nothing left. No need to eat or sleep or breathe anymore. He’d failed her, himself. It had all been for nothing.
“Clear!” someone shouted, followed by someone else yelling the same thing.
“Dane!”
Dane managed to turn his head to see Callan sprawled over Finn. Callan’s desperation registered, but Dane couldn’t move.
“She’s good!”
His head snapped back around to stare at the SUV and Dane felt like he’d left his body as he watched the man quickly open the back passenger side door – the man who’d just fired two fucking bullets into his truck while his six-month old daughter was inside. “She’s safe!” the guy yelled.
The words slowly penetrated Dane’s mind and his breath came out in a rush. And then he heard it. His daughter was crying. Screaming actually. It was the best thing he’d ever heard in his life. And it was enough to get him moving. He needed nothing more in that moment than to get to his child but the young man bleeding out into the dirt needed him more so he ran across the driveway and dropped down next to Finn.
“Get his shirt open!” he ordered Callan as he began checking Finn’s vitals. He automatically called off his findings as he worked. “Finn, can you hear me?” he said as he began working Finn’s shirt off his shoulders in an attempt to find the source of the bleeding. By now Rhys had joined Callan as they leaned over their lover but Dane forced himself to ignore the pain and fear he heard in their voices. Relief went through him when he finally found the bullet hole just under Finn’s collarbone.
“Help me lift him,” he said as he reached for Finn’s shoulders. Two sets of hands joined his in easing Finn forward. Pushing the shirt down until he found the exit wound he was hoping for, he glanced up at Rhys and Callan. “Through and through, that’s good,” he said, hoping the news would reassure the men. There was too much blood though and he knew if he didn’t act fast, Finn would be in real trouble.
He glanced up and searched out the stranger and saw him pulling a still screaming Emma from her car seat, his big hands dwarfing her tiny, upset body. The joy he felt at seeing her was so overwhelming that it was hard to stay upright.
Callan’s aunt appeared behind them and had to yell to be heard over the roaring flames that were still consuming the barn on the other side of the driveway. He was glad to hear she’d called for help because Finn would need it.
“Cal?”
Dane felt Finn shift beneath his touch and then the younger man’s eyes fluttered open. They drew closed instantly and both his lovers began pleading with him to reopen them.
Dane’s eyes again searched out Emma and saw that she had quieted in the man’s arms. It registered that he seemed to be talking to her and gently bouncing her even as he kept his gun trained on the cowering man at his feet.
“Coming home…saw smoke,” he heard Finn say and then suddenly the injured man was trying to get to his feet and yelling Emma’s name.
“She’s safe,” Dane quickly said, hoping to calm the young man.
“I’m sorry Dane. I didn’t see them. I tried to get to her!” he explained frantically as Callan and Rhys both gently pinned him so he wouldn’t cause more injury to himself.
Dane put a hand on Finn’s shoulder to steady him and said, “It’s okay, Finn. She’s okay.” He grabbed some gauze from his black medical bag and pressed it on the bullet wound. “Hold that there,” he said to Callan as he pulled out the rest of the supplies he would need to stem the blood flowing from the injury.
As he worked, he tuned out the sound of the fire burning behind him and the lovers murmuring to each other and focused on the sound of the deep voice talking to his daughter. He could only catch a few words here and there, but every time he glanced up he could see that his daughter was mesmerized by the stranger and her chubby fingers kept reaching for his face.
Each quick look between bandaging Finn’s wound gave him a little bit more information about the man. An inch or two taller than Dane’s own 6 feet, thick black hair that looked like it needed a trim, a day’s worth of stubble covering his firm, wide jaw. If the guns didn’t confirm how out of place he was on a remote ranch in Dare, Montana, his black slacks, crisp white shirt and platinum watch did the job for sure. Dane tried not to notice how well the pants hugged his firm ass or the muscles that bunched under his shirt. The smattering of dark hair on the forearm clutching his baby absolutely did not turn Dane on.
The sound of sirens grew louder as the first fire truck rolled up, an ambulance right behind it. Dane finished securing the bandage as paramedics rushed to their side and he quickly rattled off Finn’s vitals and explained the nature of the injury. He stepped back and wiped his hands on his pants as he went to check on Wendy, the young woman he’d initially started treating when the shooting had happened. She was still dazed from the head injury, but seemed to be okay otherwise. Callan had managed to get her out of the burning barn before she’d gotten burned or inhaled too much smoke.
He left her with a second set of paramedics that rolled up, then went to the firetruck and found a small leak in one of the firehoses where it met the truck. He scrubbed his hands clean as best he could, then went in search of his daughter. The man was still holding her as State police arrived and arrested the man on the ground. Another officer was examining the dead man in the driver’s seat.
“Dane,” Callan called from behind him. Dane kept moving, his need to touch his daughter overriding everything else. “Thank you,” the other man said as he fell in step next to Dane as he reached the stranger.
“Look who’s here, darling,” the man drawled as he turned Emma so she could see Dane approach. Relief shot through every nerve ending as she smiled at him and reached out her arms. He hugged her against his chest, taking in a deep breath of her as his hand stroked over her back. His eyes drifted up to see the man’s smug smile and all the relief he felt was replaced with fury.
“Can you hold her a second?” he asked Callan as he handed Emma to the other man before he could even respond. The second his hands were free, Dane swung around and punched the other man hard, knocking him to the ground.
“What the hell are you so proud of, you fucking asshole?” he snarled as the man touched his jaw and his eyes darkened. “You shot a gun into a car with my daughter in it! If those bullets had ricocheted…”
Dane couldn’t even finish the thought because the image was too disturbing. The man climbed gracefully to his feet and got right in Dane’s face.
“I’m giving you that one, Doc, because you don’t know me,” he said calmly as his hand came up and he pushed his jaw as if testing the damage. “Do it again and I don’t care if your kid is watching, I’ll lay you out. A bullet doesn’t ricochet when you bury it deep enough inside a guy’s skull that it’ll take the ME a week to fish it out.”
“You fired twice.”
