“I’m okay. Go!”

  He mounted Joy so fast that she sidled. “I’m going,” he said to Bill. “Stay with her. Protect her.”

  “You got it.”

  Mitch holstered his rifle and pulled out his shotgun. Now he wanted the widest spray possible. He was going to take those sons of bitches down. He wanted them lying on the ground, bleeding from every pellet of birdshot he could pump into them.

  Rage could have blinded him, but he refused to let it.

  Then he saw them, black shadows running through deep grasses that impeded them. He never hesitated as he sighted them and pulled the trigger.

  Both fell screaming to the ground.

  Mitch’s satisfaction knew no bounds. Astride Joy, he kept the shotgun pointed at them.

  “Don’t try anything. I got five more shells in this.”

  They didn’t move except to writhe.

  The sheriff’s men arrived at remarkable speed on their four-wheel-drive SUVs. Two cops took over the scene. Two more loaded the wounded men in the bed of their vehicles to carry them to approaching ambulances.

  Mitch lifted Grace into the passenger seat of one of them, even as she protested that she was fine.

  “I’ll be riding alongside,” Mitch promised. “Right here. Now, dammit, quit being so stubborn.”

  At last she subsided.

  * * *

  Back at Grace’s house, as the two men were loaded into ambulances, a surprising sight greeted them. Betty Pollard, on the porch, her hands cuffed behind her.

  Grace froze, staring at her friend. “Betty?”

  “I came to confess to you. It’s all my fault,” the woman said, tears running down her face. “I told them not to hurt anyone, most especially you.”

  “What?” Disbelief nearly made Grace deaf.

  Betty poured out her plan to frighten Grace off the ranch, her reason for doing so. “But they weren’t supposed to hurt you!”

  That didn’t seem to make any difference to the deputies who hauled her off and shoved her into a car. All Grace could do was watch, then turn to Mitch. “Did that make sense?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. Now let the EMTs look you over.”

  “I’m fine.” But no one was listening to her. They took her inside and began treating scrapes.

  “All we can do about the bruises is let them heal,” one said. “But you’re going to be sore, very sore. We’re giving you some muscle relaxants or you won’t sleep tonight.”

  Grace felt too revved up to care. It was going to be a long time before she slept again.

  Mitch changed all that. He carried her to her bed and gently removed her remaining clothes, then covered her with the blanket. It was easy to relax into his arms as he lay beside her, despite all her bruises. She needed him close.

  * * *

  For a long time he said nothing, hoping she would drift into sleep. She didn’t and he could understand it. She’d had more than one shock tonight.

  “Bill is okay?”

  “Okay enough to ride with me to find you.”

  “Good. You came out of the night like an avenging angel.”

  He laughed quietly. “I felt like one. All I had was a gun when I wanted a flaming sword.”

  “The gun did well enough.” She sighed, then groaned faintly as she wiggled closer. His arms tightened gently.

  “I could get you some ice for those bruises,” he suggested.

  “Probably too late now. I was thinking when I was out there how much I’ve messed up your life.”

  That was more than Mitch could bear. “You know what I was thinking when I hunted for you?”

  “What?”

  “That you’ve become the center of my life. That you’ve become all that really matters to me.”

  She drew a swift breath. “Mitch...no.”

  “Grace, yes. I was thinking that I couldn’t live without you. Grace, I love you. I realize you’re not ready...”

  “Oh, shut up,” she answered, startling him.

  “Huh?”

  “If you start backing off what you just said, I may shove you out of my bed. Damn it, Mitch, are you going to keep me from loving you, too?”

  Shock slowly gave way to a deep-seated warmth that filled him from head to toe. “Love as in marriage?” he asked tentatively.

  “Of course,” she replied promptly.

  His heart soared. “Kids?”

  “I always wanted them. I always wanted to see my kids riding ponies and laughing. You?”

  “You bet,” he murmured, then kissed her deeply. The heat that rose in him was entirely inappropriate given how sore she was, but he let it grow anyway.

  “How soon?” she asked.

  Damn, that was Grace. “How big a shindig do you want?”

  “Just get Reverend Canton over here. How much more do I need?”

  “Ah, man, Grace. Do you really think you could keep the neighbors away?”

  She laughed then. “Tell them to bring their own barbecue.”

  It was his turn to laugh. “I love you, Grace Hall. Heart and soul.”

  She snuggled a tiny bit closer. “Don’t ever let me go, Mitch.”

  “Never,” he promised. “Never.”

  * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Undercover K-9 Cowboy by Addison Fox.

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  Chapter 1

  “We want to set a trap.”

  Arden Reynolds stared at the attractive stranger sitting across her warm, peach-colored kitchen and wondered if the world had lost its mind. Or maybe just her corner of it.

  Her brothers and their wives had taken up positions around their solid Texas pine table, but in the subtle gesture of respect she’d received from the women who had come into her life over the past year—each a sister now—Arden sat at the head.

  And listened to the most outrageous scheme of her life.

  “What sort of trap?” Ace, her oldest brother and de facto head of their ranch, Reynolds Station, finally spoke up.

  “The vastness of your land and proximity to the Rio Grande makes you an easy mark for drug trafficking. We’ve watched patterns for the past few years and every four to six months, one cartel or another works up the courage to try passage through your land again.”

  “We know.” Tate spoke up, her brother’s own experiences with discoveries on their property still obviously fresh in his mind, even after a year. “It’s why we now make a significant investment in security here in our little corner of paradise.”

  The stranger didn’t miss the sarcasm but he did deftly ignore it. “That’s where the FBI can help.”

  “Why don’t you map it out for everyone, Ryder,” Tate’s wife, Belle, finally spoke up. Her role as one of the leading detectives for the Midnight Pass Police Department had given her a front-facing opportunity to observe the increasing presence of the Feds in their small Texas border town. Although she’d been vocal about her frustration with some of their tactics, in her more private moments she’d admitted the help was welcome.

  And, unfortunately, necessary.

  Arden considered Ryder and had to admit stranger wasn’t quite the right term. Until this evening she hadn’t known Agent Durant’s last name, but she had seen him around town. The prior fall they’d spoken outside the town coffee shop after one of her yoga practices, an introduction fraught with some sort of unspoken joke only Ryder seemed to understand. At least his trained K-9 dog, Murphy, had been friendly.

  Then Belle had introduced them briefly at the New Year’s Day festival on the town square. Agent Durant had been busy with Murphy and the ready attention the chocolate Lab received from eager children. The steady stream of visitors had kept him from doing much talking or visiting.

  But she’d noticed him.

  He was hard to miss. Tall and rangy, he was a man who garnered a woman’s attention. Add on the dog, and he was damn near lethally attractive.

  Shame he seemed well aware of that fact, Arden lamented to herself.

  “As I said, we’ve been following the various paths in and around Midnight Pass. Even with federal presence, it hasn’t deterred the drug trade from moving back and forth over the border.”

  “Why’s that?” Although she still chafed a bit from their initial meeting, Arden asked the question of the agent in all sincerity.

  “Excuse me?” Ryder asked.

  “Why is that? You’d think a federal presence would be a mighty large deterrent. The Pass is an easy transfer point but these are rather intelligent criminals and the Texas-Mexico border is long. Yet they keep traipsing back and forth over the border right here in our town. Do you have a leak?”

  “Arden.” Ace’s voice was low, but she didn’t miss the subtle note of warning.

  Ryder cocked his head, his dark gaze direct and unyielding. “Why do you ask that, Miss Reynolds?”

  “The very last thing the cartels need is to get caught. Why risk it with the Feds so close if not for some additional benefit?”

  “We run a tight operation.” The agent kept his smile firmly in place.

  Although she had no reason to keep taunting, Arden pressed him further. This man was here, in her home, asking her and her loved ones to set a trap for ruthless criminals.

  Was it so far-fetched to ask him to assess his own house? Or his proverbial one, at least.

  She’d been blessed with her mother’s spunk in spades, and when her three older brothers wore nothing more than resigned looks, she pressed on.

  “You say you run a tight operation. Yet we still have a problem in Midnight Pass. Seems rather shortsighted not to consider the reasons why.”

  * * *

  Ryder Durant liked fiery women. He’d never understood men who looked for passive females and had no desire to change his mind on that count.

  But damn, he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that Arden Reynolds was quite a piece of work.

  An incredibly attractive one, too, with her slim frame and lush hips and that long flow of red hair that spilled over her shoulders. She wore what he’d come to think of as something of her standard uniform—yoga pants and some sort of stretchy top that did nothing to hide more curves. He’d seen her around town a few times since arriving in Midnight Pass the prior August and had been intrigued by her from the start.

  But there was something about sparring with her in the middle of her kitchen that had his interest shifting from intrigued straight on to attracted.

  Murphy loved her. His K-9 was a good working dog and a sound and trusted partner, but he was tentative in how he warmed to others. His training had ensured he knew duty first. But there was sheer adoration in his chocolate Lab’s eyes the first time those dark orbs had settled on the attractive Miss Reynolds.

  Nor had he missed how Murphy had taken up a spot in the corner of the kitchen, in direct line of sight to Arden.

  “The Bureau is sound,” he finally answered. “We take care of our own.”

  As answers went, it was rather weak and evasive, but he wasn’t about to give the woman any runway for her speculations. Add on the fact that she’d keyed in on something he’d worried about himself, vague and ambiguous was all he was prepared to give at the moment.

  It did gnaw at him that things seemed different since top agent Noah Ross was transferred to a new post around the same time Ryder was transferred in. Ross had a stellar reputation and with his reassignment to the larger Bureau office in Dallas, Ryder couldn’t help but feel that he was fending for himself down in Midnight Pass.

  “Can you be sure about that, Agent Durant?” Arden’s sister-in-law Reese spoke up. “Even the most stalwart can lose their way.”

  Ryder knew there was more to Reese Grantham Reynolds’s question. Yet she’d sat through his pitch anyway. Her back had remained straight and her attention had never wavered as she gently soothed circles over her pregnant belly.

  Reese and, Ryder suspected, everyone else gathered around the table, understood the stakes. But he needed access to their land for what he had in mind.

  In the quiet that came after Reese’s statement, Belle took the opportunity to shift the conversation. “No institution is infallible. But for the moment, let’s rule out an internal problem there and consider Agent Durant’s proposal to us.” Belle turned her full attention toward him. “What’s involved?”

  Although he had the briefest urge to spar a few more rounds with Arden, Ryder focused on the question. Belle Granger Reynolds was a good detective—she’d proven her commitment to upholding the law and working collaboratively with his office whenever necessary—and he appreciated her partnership.

  “Not much from any of you. This ranch is a place of business and we’re not looking to interfere with that. We need to find a way to cordon off the acreage at the southern end of the property, yet continue to make it look like there’s work going on. Two of my colleagues and I would pose as ranch hands and work that end of the land as our focus. We can disguise surveillance equipment within what looks to be regular fence posts and set up a perimeter.”

  Reynolds Station was nestled in a prime location near the border. The land in and around Midnight Pass had been named as such because of the ravines and gullies that allowed passage over the Rio Grande. The Reynolds property sat at the apex of that, with some of the easiest passages across the border.

  It was why the bad guys kept trying.

  And it was why he was determined to shut them down once and for all.

  “My wife and I are about to have a baby. I have no interest in inviting trouble right here onto our property.” Hoyt Reynolds had been quiet up to now, the stoic rancher never moving far from his position behind his very pregnant wife’s chair. “We’ve all worked good and hard to get away from trouble. No sense in going looking for it.”

  Even as a relative newcomer to The Pass, Ryder had heard all about how Hoyt’s wife, Reese, had suffered a family tragedy when her father had taken on his own brand of vigilante justice the prior spring.

  Russ Grantham had been the well-respected captain of the Midnight Pass Police Department. The death of his teenage son to a drug overdose more than a decade before had done more psychological damage than anyone had realized, and it was Russ’s determination to pick off drug dealers, one at a time with a dark and deadly hand that had ultimately led to the man’s downfall.

  “I can understand your concern, but with the size of your land and our ability to remain hidden, we are confident we can keep you and your family away from any danger,” Ryder said.

  It was a bold statement, but a fair one. And a promise he was determined to uphold.

  “We’re not interested in sitting by, unaware or uninformed of what’s happening on our land,” Hoyt added, clearly unconvinced by Ryder’s promise.

  “Hoyt’s right,” Ace chimed in. “We’re not even going to consider this if it means we’re kept in the dark. This is our home and our property. We have a right to know what’s going on.”

  Ryder had never subscribed to the notion that the FBI’s role as federal peacekeepers forgave any manner of sins. But neither could he compromise an op by bringing too many civilians in on the plans.

  “The Bureau will protect your family, Mr. Reynolds.”

  “That’s not what I’m asking,” Ace said.

  “But it is what I’m prepared to give.”

  * * *

  Arden had spent more than enough time growing up with three brothers to know when a situation had nowhere to go but sideways. With that foremost in her thoughts, she caught Belle’s eye and gave the slightest of head nods. Her sister-in-law caught the message easily enough and smoothly cut in.

  “Agent Durant. I think you’ve given us plenty to think about. Perhaps we can pick this conversation up at a later time. After everyone’s had a chance to spend a bit more time thinking about things.”

  Dark eyes the color of the gooey center of a chocolate lava cake crinkled at the corners as his mouth drifted into an easy smile. Arden would have bet a mighty sum the agent was nowhere near to feeling that carefree and easy, but you’d never know it by the simple lift of his shoulders or his easy tone. “Fair enough.”

  Which only put her antennae up even more. What was his game?

  She didn’t doubt he believed what he was saying—Reynolds Station sat on one of the most easily traversed corridors over the border—but that didn’t mean federal agents regularly showed up, politely asking for a hall pass to monitor the traffic.

  Which was why she finally spoke up.

  “Why don’t I leave you all to talk for a few minutes, and I’ll take Agent Durant out to see the stables?”

  Although she was under no delusion any of them were ready to say yes, she wanted a few minutes of her own with the agent to see what else she could find out. She also knew Hoyt was hanging on by the slightest thread, his anxiety for Reese and the baby his foremost concern. Continuing the discussion would only push Hoyt further toward a no vote. Despite her misgivings, Arden wasn’t sure that was the best option. And while she had her own concerns, including the baby’s safety, she wanted to remain open to the discussion.

  “We’ll be back in a few minutes.” She gestured toward the door, Murphy already scrambling to his feet, his toenails clipping lightly on the hardwood floor. The sound was oddly comforting, in the midst of a dangerous and unpleasant conversation, and she smiled at Ryder’s handsome companion as they went out.