“For you? One.”

  When he passed her the rifle, he was careful to point it at the cans and when he assisted her positioning the stock at her shoulder, he didn’t let go. His left arm encircled her, and he stepped closer to guide the gun with his right hand.

  This was the safest way to demonstrate proper technique but he could tell their closeness was affecting her because her knees were beginning to wobble.

  “Don’t be afraid,” Ben said, ignoring what the teaching position was doing to her emotions, let alone his. “All long guns are held the same way. Get familiar with the proper positioning of the stock so it becomes second nature.”

  “I should have asked before. Shooting won’t hurt my baby, will it?”

  “Not a bit. Even the shotgun will be perfectly safe as long as you press it hard against your shoulder.”

  “Okay.”

  Despite inner warnings to release her and step back, Ben held his ground. Was she leaning slightly against his chest? Sure felt like it. Should he caution her to stand on her own two feet or stay put until she’d shot at least once? That decision was tricky only because he liked the sense of having her close and it wasn’t until he reminded himself of who he was and what his mission was that he firmed his stance.

  “Look down the barrel with your right eye until you see the cans and the front sight at the same time, then line that up with the rear sight.”

  “Okay.”

  About to explain about gentle, steady trigger pull so her aim would be true he felt her freeze for an instant. Was she listening? Perhaps hearing something odd in the distance.

  He reluctantly let go of her, taking the rifle with him. Shading his eyes with one hand he scanned the overcast sky, pivoting to check behind them. “I hear something now.”

  She nodded. “Me, too. Where is it coming from?”

  “Don’t know. You need to get inside.” Before Ben had time to give more orders a drone rose over the ridge of the stable roof, its four propellers churning.

  Jamie pointed. “Look!”

  “I see it.” He was in the middle of exchanging the .22 for the .12 gauge shotgun, putting himself slightly off balance. The small radio-controlled craft flew straight for his head, then veered off at the last second.

  Ben ducked, hit the ground on his side, rolled and came up in a crouch, out of position to shoot and blinking past the mud on his right cheek. He took a wild swipe at his face with one hand and painted himself with far more mud than before.

  “Is it loaded?” Jamie shouted. “Your shotgun. Is it loaded?”

  Ben was wiping his face on the long sleeve of his shirt, mostly making his situation worse. “Loaded? No.”

  “Give it here. Mrs. E taught me how.”

  Instead of waiting politely she grabbed the heavy gun out of his slippery left hand. Although he could see little, Ben heard her trying to work the breech and thought she was failing until she shouted. “Loaded. Here!”

  Ben reached out, groping blindly. He could hear the building noise of the drone. It was coming back. And unless he intended to shoot at it while his sight was impaired and his eyes burning, he was in no position to defend himself, let alone protect her.

  * * *

  Could I do this? Jamie wondered. Should she even try? What were her chances of hitting a moving target the first time she’d ever shot at anything?

  She held on to the shotgun. Ben’s face was red with mud and one eye had opened only as far as a slit. Echoes of his earlier reassurances came flooding back. It won’t hurt the baby as long as you press it to your shoulder hard.

  The thing was cumbersome and really heavy when she lifted it and tried to keep it in the proper position. How was she supposed to aim? Was there a sight to look at like there was on the .22?

  Ben shouted something at her. Jamie ignored him. The drone was rising over the top of the stable roof again. She hesitated, trying to find a way to sight, but everything was happening too fast, too unexpectedly.

  The drone dipped again, then passed over them and paused as if a camera was taking pictures. That was her answer! When she didn’t have time to use the viewfinder on her camera she sometimes just pointed and clicked, relying on instinct, and it often worked better than expected.

  Jamie tightened her grip, jammed the rubber-padded end of the stock against her right shoulder, held her breath and pointed the way she would if the shotgun was an extension of her arm.

  Her finger jerked when she squeezed the trigger. Recoil staggered her. A boom vibrated her whole head, from ears to sinuses. It was all she could do to keep from dropping the gun.

  She sensed Ben next to her. He grabbed the shotgun and jerked it out of her grasp with a shout. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Saving your bacon.” Jamie had almost lost her balance when she’d fired and was so concerned with staying erect it was a few moments before she wondered if she’d hit anything.

  By this time, Ben had apparently cleared his vision enough to function because he was heading around the side of the stables on the same path they’d used to get there. She followed as best she could, rounding the blind corner and almost smacking into him.

  At his feet lay a disabled, plastic-looking contraption that was actually bigger than she’d imagined when she’d seen it airborne. One prop of the four was missing and there was visible damage to two of the others.

  Her jaw gaped. “I hit it? I don’t believe it!”

  “Neither do I. It’s a good thing a modified choke disperses into a decent pattern.”

  “Huh?”

  “You only had to come close because the pellets spread out,” he explained. “If shotguns fired a single bullet you wouldn’t have had a chance.”

  Jamie was still shaky but had to grin. “I’m never going to earn an atta-boy from you, am I?”

  “Not when you keep pulling bonehead stunts like this.” Ben cupped her elbow and urged her toward the house.

  “Wait! What about the drone?”

  “It may have fingerprints on it. We’ll leave it for the sheriff. You’re going back inside where you’ll stay out of trouble.”

  “Hey, it’s not my fault some lowlife’s been piloting a spy camera over your ranch. It’s actually a great idea if you think about it. You could use one to spot those herds of wild horses that hide so well.”

  Instead of commenting, Ben signaled the group of ranch hands approaching and announced, “We took out the drone. Call nine-one-one and see that everybody stays away from the evidence until the sheriff gets here.”

  The foreman saluted. “Okay, boss. Good shootin’.”

  Jamie made a face. “Hey.”

  Ahead of her chance to protest, Ben inclined his head toward her and said, “She did it, not me.”

  That confession was followed by good-natured teasing comments and plenty of laughter before she heard one of the men extend the compliment to her. “Good shootin’, ma’am.”

  She was not about to explain the impossible shot so she merely grinned and faked a curtsy as if she were a wearing a skirt.

  Ben apparently mistook her action as a weakness. The hand that had been cupping her elbow slipped around the back of her waist and he pulled her to him. “Are you feeling faint?”

  Laughing gently she gazed up at his dear, dirty face. A lock of tousled hair lay across his forehead and he was still blinking and squinting. “I’m fine. Truly I am. Target shooting is fun. I’d like to do more of it.”

  “Maybe tomorrow, after the sheriff has picked up the drone and I’ve checked in with my boss in Denver on possible prints.”

  “Even if they ID who’s been spying on us we won’t know why.”

  Ben huffed and shook his head. “You may be wearing rose-colored glasses, ma’am, but I’m not. Nothing like this happened around here until you arrived.”

  “I am sorry, you know.”

  To her chagrin he released his hold on her and stepped away. “Just part of the job.”

  Any comfort or camaraderie Jamie had been feeling vanished like smoke in a gale. Of course, it was his job, his and the K-9’s.

  Shadow had warmed up to her pretty quickly and so had the ranch housekeeper, so perhaps she’d inadvertently assumed the same was true of Ben. Maybe. Probably.

  Upset with herself for attributing affection where there was none, she straightened her sore back, squared her shoulders and marched into the house.

  Ben kept going, leaving Jamie to explain to Mrs. E. “I think he’s miffed because I shot down the drone that’s been bothering us.”

  “You did? Well, well.” Wiping her hands on her apron she added, “Know what you need? A husband to look after you.”

  “No way. Been there, done that. Never again.” Jamie patted her baby bump. “I’ll have all I need soon.”

  She had no reply when the older woman said, “What about what your child needs?”

  TEN

  While Ben had a private moment he phoned his Denver headquarters to make another report. This time, the regular dispatcher answered and transferred his call directly to Tyson Wilkes.

  “Hey, Sarge, how are things there?” Ben asked.

  Tyson huffed. “Better than where you are, I understand.”

  “Have you been in touch with the local sheriff here?”

  “Zumwalt? Yes. I talked to him after your troubles yesterday. Why?”

  “You’re way behind. We got attacked this morning, too. A drone again, just like when the horses stampeded.”

  “Did it come from the SUV you spotted?”

  “There was no sign of it at that time. Makes me wonder if we’re dealing with more than one source. Shadow’s pretty good at trailing but I still wish I had a regular tracking dog out here to figure out how the prowlers are getting so close.”

  “Sorry. I can’t spare your brother right now.”

  “Don’t even consider him,” Ben said. “He’d probably think I’d asked for him and his K-9 just to throw him together with Drew.”

  “Yeah, there is that. Maybe I shouldn’t have let you talk me into adding Chris to our team.”

  “You did the right thing,” Ben assured Tyson. “Chris is a good cop and a good handler. Don’t let our personal problems spoil your view of him. Or of me. We’ll eventually come to some kind of understanding even if it isn’t what our dad would like.”

  “Agreed. So, what can you tell me about this drone?”

  Ben snorted a chuckle. “We’ll know more after the sheriff picks it up and has it tested.”

  “You actually have it?”

  “Oh, yeah. That innocent-looking pregnant woman you sent to me is not as helpless as she seems. Believe it or not, she managed to shoot it down without peppering my barns or falling down. She hit it. That’s all that matters.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Wish I was. There are so many things that could have gone wrong it’s chilling. One lesson on gun handling and she thinks she’s Annie Oakley.”

  Tyson was laughing. That didn’t surprise Ben. Every time he pictured Jamie aiming at the sky it made him smile, too. She might be too sure of herself for her own good but she’d come through in a pinch.

  “Where were you while she was defending the fort?”

  “On the ground with so much mud in my eyes I could hardly see. That’s why she took the shot. At least that’s her excuse.”

  “She couldn’t have just ducked and let it go?”

  “Have you met her, talked to her?”

  “Not much. I sat in on the FBI interview here in Denver. She seemed calm and matter-of-fact then.” He paused. “I’m wondering if sending her to you was a mistake.”

  “I sure hope there’s no connection between the congresswoman’s murder and these latest attacks.”

  “You realize that it’s highly likely there is, don’t you?”

  “Yeah. Can you believe the FBI sent her up here without disabling her cell phone?”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. By the time I discovered it somebody could have already tracked her this far. You might want to mention it to the Powers That Be.”

  “Oh, I’ll do more than mention it.”

  “Good. What’s new on our missing baby case? Anything?”

  “Yes. As you know, the woman found near the burning car, Kate Montgomery, isn’t the child’s mother. She’s still critical. In a coma. We can’t be sure she was driving with a baby, but the evidence leads us to believe she was. And—”

  “DNA on that infant seat or the baby blanket will lead somewhere,” Ben cut in, thinking of Jamie. How awful it would be to lose a child.

  “DNA was the key,” Tyson explained. “Local police found a car deep in a ravine not far from the car fire. The driver, a, deceased female identified as Nikki Baker, tested as a match to the samples from the baby’s car seat. She’d recently given birth to a little girl in Denver so we know we’re looking for a really young baby named Chloe Baker.”

  “What about the father?”

  “Listed as unknown,” Tyson said. “What is also unknown is why Ms. Baker was wearing a blond wig over her dark hair. Was she trying to disguise herself? Was she in trouble? She died around the same time that the fire ignited in Kate Montgomery’s car. How are the two women connected? And where is the baby? Was she kidnapped? So many questions. No answers.”

  “What a mess.” Ben raked his fingers through his hair and felt grit. “Listen, keep me posted if you learn anything more about my witness out here and I’ll do the same. I’ve already posted guards, but it would help if we got prints off the drone.”

  “I’ll mention it to the FBI and see if Bridges wants to assume jurisdiction. It’ll be up to him.”

  “Copy.” Ben ended the conversation with a thanks and goodbye, then laid the phone aside. The incident behind the stables kept playing through his mind like a film clip on an endless loop. When he’d blinked away enough dirt to get a foggy picture of Jamie aiming at the sky, his heart had nearly pounded out of his chest.

  Then she’d pulled the trigger and stayed on her feet, giving him a sense of pride. When he’d seen that her efforts had succeeded, he’d been so excited he’d wanted to pick her up in his arms and swing her around, feet off the ground.

  Between the wet mud, his own feeling of failure and her delicate condition he’d been convinced to do no such thing, but that image continued to return as if he had.

  For a person who had apparently faced terrible trials, Jamie London had plenty of spunk left. Matter of fact, anybody would admire someone who had endured a bad marriage yet was looking forward to birth while also agreeing to testify in a murder trial. Any one of those things would have crushed most women. At least he thought so.

  Ben’s late mother, Barbara, came to mind. If she had even dreamed that Drew, the love of her life, had fathered another son before marrying her, she would probably have had a breakdown. Ben knew it was guilt that was now affecting his father so strongly. He didn’t blame him for feeling bad about leaving Vi for Barbara but he did wish Chris hadn’t grown up halfway across the country, feeling abandoned because his mother had been ostracized by the entire Sawyer clan.

  A lot of different elements had kept Ben, himself, from committing to married life, including family history, since his ancestors had such terrible track records. Add to that his experience as a ranger and you had a firm decision. The army had toughened him up, sure, but it had also shown him how hard life could be and how painful it was to lose loved ones.

  He and many of his fellow troops had dealt with seeing so much death by walling off their emotions, including romantic involvement. Especially marriage. It wasn’t safe to love like that. Look at what his father was going through, and his mistakes had occurred thirty-plus years ago.

  Besides, Ben added to affirm his thoughts, no woman would be happy and content if she was left behind on the ranch while his duty with Shadow took him all over the Rockies. Living single greatly simplified his life and he was more than satisfied to leave it that way.

  A shocking urge to return to Jamie, to stay by her side no matter what, washed over him like a flash flood. The feeling made him decidedly uncomfortable. It also reminded him that watching over her was his job. There was nothing wrong with wanting to do his best under any circumstances, even ones that left him uneasy and made his gut churn. Too bad she was so pretty and so...

  Ben paused to consider the direction his mind was taking him in. Yes, Jamie was pretty, even with her natural red hair dyed dark. But she was so much more than that. She was brave, resilient, intelligent, gifted artistically and the best natural shot he’d ever seen, although he doubted she’d be able to hit a drone the second time because she’d start thinking about it and hesitate just long enough to miss. It happened to the best of instinctive marksmen until they’d had it trained out of them.

  She would fit here on the Double S, his thoughts insisted.

  Ben shook if off. “No. No way. For one thing, it would be too hard on Dad.” And on me, he added silently. I’m set in my ways and happy with the status quo.

  The truth that lingered in the back of his mind was that he was also lonely. It wasn’t so bad on the job or when he was training Shadow, but coming home to his father’s depressed state and having to deal with the problems on the ranch all by himself was starting to wear on him.

  Ben laid a hand on the dog’s broad head, gaining comfort. “I’m fine. Just fine.” Confiding in his K-9 when he needed to unburden himself was safer than talking to humans. People were too complicated. Too apt to disappoint or not care enough. Or lie. After all, the one man he’d thought most highly of had been fooling his late mother for all of her adult life. In a way, Drew’s current suffering had been well-earned.

  That conclusion hurt. But it wasn’t wrong. Above all, Ben vowed to never hurt anybody by skirting the truth. As long as it was in his power he was going to be totally honest no matter who it hurt. Even if it was himself.