Colton's Lethal Reunion (Coltons of Mustang Valley)

“No, ammunition’s in the glove box.” He was already reaching for it.

“Get it loaded,” she said. “But don’t shoot unless you’re in immediate danger,” she said. “No matter what these guys have done, as a citizen, you can only shoot in self-defense, you got that?”

He got that she was worried about him. And he didn’t want to distract her. “I’ve got it. I’m not going to go all commando on you and charge ahead, Kerry. You’ve got the lead here. I’m just your wingman. But I can guarantee you I’ll be a good one. I’m not going to let you down.”

He’d witnessed a woman go from talking to dead in less than a minute. He and Kerry could die out there. He needed her to know where he stood.

His rifle was loaded. He prayed to God they wouldn’t need it.

“The chief will have as many people out here as he can gather up,” she said. “There’s a posse in town who can pinch-hit as needed. Unfortunately, I don’t have a radio, though, so we’re going to be on our own in terms of intel.”

He liked the first part, not the second. Wanted to know if she’d done something like this before

He didn’t trust her any less. Just would worry about her more.

“There’s a gravel road just before Mustang Mountain Drive,” she was saying. “I’m going to pull in there. It leads up to the other side of the mountain, but then dead-ends. I’m assuming Rogers knows that. I want him to think that’s where we’re headed. He’ll head us off from the other side. Then we’ll double back and head up the road. I’m not giving him a chance to get back down off that mountain.”

Rafe just cared about getting her off it.

In one piece.

Nothing else mattered. Not being a Colton or a Kay. Not money or oil or ranches, or even cops. All that mattered was her, Kerry Wilder, home, safe and happy.

Chapter 23

Kerry couldn’t afford to be distracted. Not by Rafe’s talk of facing challenges together—throwing back in her face what she’d accused him of not doing all of their lives.

Like he thought that a moment of danger on a case was enough to make up for letting go when the times got tough.

Danger was a blip in time. If you lived through it, that’s when the hard part of living happened. The everyday, nonexciting, getting-up-and-doing-the-dishes stuff.

She turned off, saw the brief flash of red lights ahead as the driver of the SUV noticed them turning off. Slowing just enough on the gravel road to see that the SUV turned onto Mustang Mountain Drive, she waited to make certain that the vehicle wasn’t coming back. No way was she going to get trapped on a dead-end road that no one knew she’d taken.

But if this worked...

Five minutes without sighting the SUV and she turned around, and then right, approached Mustang Mountain Drive slowly. She’d have liked for her backup to be there. Thought about waiting. But knew if she was just sitting out there when the SUV came back down off that mountain, she’d be dodging bullets. Without great odds.

She and Rafe would be sitting ducks to desperate men with a vehicle full of contraband. They’d die before they’d let themselves be caught.

And if she pulled back and waited?

They could pull right back off that mountain and get away with the goods.

She had to go up. But she didn’t have to take Rafe with her.

She drove slowly, window down so she could listen for sounds of vehicles up ahead. Off-road or otherwise. The ground wasn’t as smooth as it had been earlier in the week, indicating that there’d been some rain during the night. It happened. Especially in January. You’d get up in the morning, the desert ground would be dry, having greedily soaked up what moisture was there, but you’d smell the rain.

On the mountains, that same hardly noticeable storm could bring snow that would melt just as quickly, but leave the ground moist.

As they rounded a bend, the heavy truck’s wheels spun for a second and then grabbed traction and continued forward. If she’d been in her Jeep, she wouldn’t have had that problem.

“What do you want me to do?” Rafe asked, sitting beside her. That’s when she had an idea. Pulling over in the next lay-by, she told him to get out.

“Stay low, out of sight,” she said. “Wait for help to come and tell them what we know. I’m going to continue on up the road.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

She didn’t have time to argue. Shouldn’t have taken the time to stop at all, except having him down there, able to alert the chief or whomever came first, that she was up there had felt like a good plan.