Line of Fire. Julie Leto
doorknob jiggled again. Next, she heard a scrape, as if someone was jimmying the lock. Panic rose in her throat. There was no time to run upstairs. She wished she had something to use as a weapon. She looked at the cordless phone in her hand. Wide awake now, she punched in 9-1-1, creeping stealthily toward the shadows in the back of the room where she could hide.
The door burst open before she reached her destination. It was too dark to see who the intruder was, but she could make out the shape of a man. The cat sprang straight up, streaking between the intruder’s legs. While the man was off balance, Meredith shoved an antique umbrella stand in his path. He tripped. “What the hell?”
She recognized that voice. As he fell toward her, out of the shadows and into the light, she recognized the face that went with it.
Sky’s arms flailed, but he managed to keep from falling flat on his face. “Why did you do that?”
She backed up, straightening so fast she saw stars. “I’m trying to—” her voice seemed to be coming from far away “—defend my store.” Sky’s face blurred before her eyes, and all the world with it.
She swayed. Sky swore. He scaled a low table, catching her before she could hit the floor. “Easy,” he whispered, but her eyes were closed, and she didn’t hear.
He wrapped his arms around her, trying to hold her upright. It wasn’t easy. He was the best roper in a hundred mile radius. He could rope a calf, hop off his horse, tie it up and hoist it onto his shoulder with ease. Meredith was slight, but right now, she was as limp as a rag doll, and a helluva lot harder to hold on to than a squirming, bawling, roped calf.
He swung her into his arms, staggering slightly. Keeping his feet squarely beneath them, he supported her head with his shoulder, then tried to decide what to do next.
Meredith’s eyes fluttered. What happ…? Where am…? For the second time in a matter of minutes, she opened her eyes and tried to focus. This time, she found herself staring at the harsh lines of Sky’s jaw. “What are you doing?”
“You’re ill.”
It sounded to Meredith like an accusation. She glanced down, appalled to discover that she was in his arms. “Put me down.”
“You fainted.” Again, his voice sounded harsh.
“You scared me.”
“Do you always faint when you’re frightened?”
She never had before. She wiggled to get down, but his arms only tightened.
“I’ve been working hard, maybe too hard. I think I picked up a touch of the flu.”
The flu in July? Sky couldn’t think of a soul who had it this time of year. He couldn’t think, period. Her scent was in his nostrils, her eyes dangerously close to his, her lips parted, her breath moist on his face. He wanted her to raise her face a little more, angle her chin slightly, so he could kiss her.
“Sky?”
“Hm?”
“What are you doing here?” she asked again.
Sky was trying to remember, really he was. It just wasn’t easy to think. His adrenaline had kicked in, making him strong, and her weightless in his arms. It hadn’t done a thing for his mental state.
“I saw the light on in the store, and I thought maybe we should talk. I knocked, but you didn’t answer. My imagination conjured up several scenarios, and you were in trouble in every one. So I decided to try the back door.”
“What did you want to talk about?” She’d spoken softly, her face inching closer.
Of everything he’d said, she’d picked up on that? “I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
He loosened his hold, slowly lowering her feet to the floor. By the time she was standing, her entire body was indelibly imprinted on his. Both were breathing shallowly. Another second, another millimeter, and he would know if he’d been imagining the taste of her lips, the touch of her mouth, the passion of her kisses. Just a second, and a millimeter…
“Hold it right there!”
They jerked apart, and swung around. Sheriff Nick Colter burst into the room, one hand on his flashlight, the other on his gun.
“Nick!” Sky exclaimed. “For crying out loud, don’t shoot. What are you doing here?”
Nick lowered his gun and his flashlight, but not his guard. He took a few steps closer, stopping between an antique trunk and a floor lamp. His gaze was assessing, his voice steady. “A 9-1-1 call came in from this number.”
“You were fast!” Meredith exclaimed, still breathless.
“You called 9-1-1?” Sky asked.
She wet her dry lips, and pushed her hair out of her eyes. “I thought you were an intruder, or perhaps a thief.”
“You two know each other?” the dark-haired sheriff of Jones County asked, watching them closely.
“No,” Meredith said.
“Yes,” Sky said at the same time. She looked at Sky.
Sky looked at her.
They both shrugged.
“We’ve met,” she said.
“Briefly,” Sky amended. “But we don’t really know one another, I guess.”
Meredith averted her face because sometimes the truth hurt. “I fell asleep, and was awakened by a noise,” she said to Sheriff Colter. “I thought somebody was trying to break in. It turned out to be a false alarm. I’m sorry, Sheriff.”
Nick Colter and Sky were nearly the same height. They both had dark hair and muscular bodies. The similarities stopped there. Nick had never been, nor would he ever be a cowboy. Until two years ago, he’d been a decorated police officer in Chicago. He’d come to Jasper Gulch because his then estranged wife and young daughter had moved here. He and Brittany had reconciled, and he’d stayed, taking over as sheriff of Jones County when Wyatt McCully had accepted a position on the police force in Pierre. Nick was more than qualified for the job. Meredith had a feeling his intuition was telling him more than either she or Sky had. He glanced around the store. “Looks like you’re almost ready to open for business.”
She could have kissed him for his tact. Instead, she walked with him toward the back door, which, until now, she hadn’t realized was still wide open. “I’m planning to have a grand opening sale in a week or so. I hope you and your wife can join me.”
“I’ll tell Brittany.” With a tug at the brim of his police hat, he left as quietly as he’d arrived.
Suddenly, the only sounds in the room were the resonant tones of the wind chimes high in the rafters. Meredith couldn’t think of anything to say. Worse, she couldn’t believe how close she’d come to kissing Sky. If Sheriff Colter hadn’t arrived when he did, they could very well have been doing more than kissing right now. Whatever was between them was explosive. For a moment, when she’d discovered that she was in his arms, yearning had swelled inside her like it had that night a month ago. Now, something he’d said just before Sheriff Colter had interrupted them nagged at the back of her mind.
“What did you mean?” she asked. “When you said you don’t want me to get the wrong idea. The wrong idea about what?”
She watched as he strode toward the door and scooped his cowboy hat off the floor. His movements were fluid, graceful in a way that was uniquely masculine, uniquely Sky.
Worrying the brim of his Stetson with his callused fingers, he said, “I don’t take women to bed often.”
Something dangerously close to hope found its way inside her. A semblance of self-preservation kept her from letting it show.
“There’s a good reason for that,” he said. “Most women want a commitment, a