Page 55 of Ransom for His Secret Son

Then a low laugh. “You’re stalling, Sheriff.” Tarrant’s voice dripped with amusement. “Waiting for backup to show.”

Yeah, he was. But backup wasn’t necessarily going to fix this problem and, in fact, could make it worse. If Tarrant got away and the cottage was empty, then Brody would be leaving here empty-handed. That couldn’t happen.

“I think I heard something inside,” Remi said.

That grabbed his attention. Brody stilled, listening. Hoping. Praying. Wind rustled through the trees, and there was the sound of the water in the creek rushing over the rocks, but he heard nothing from the cottage.

“You sure?” he asked, his voice low.

Remi gave a small nod that didn’t look at all convincing. “It could be the baby,” she said, and she tipped her head to the porch behind her. “I can stay low and crawl under the railing and toward the door.”

Hell. Brody was shaking his head before she even got out the words to that awful plan. “No. There’s not enough cover. Tarrant will gun you down.”

As if Tarrant had heard that, he started shooting again. And thankfully, he was no longer aiming at the cottage but rather at Brody. One of the shots smacked right into the ground next to him and kicked up some dirt and small rocks that flew right in his face. Tarrant was coming awfully close to taking him out.

“He’s focused on you,” Remi argued, and there was more conviction in her voice than had been in that nod. “I can make it.”

Brody gritted his teeth. Everything in him screamed to shut this plan down. But there was one thing that convinced him to at least consider it.

That look in Remi’s eyes.

It was pure determination.

“I’m wearing a vest,” she reminded him. “And I’ll stay low. Belly down the whole way.” Remi’s gaze locked onto his. “I have to try.”

Brody swallowed the profanity that was roaring through his head. He wasn’t going to win this argument.

“Just give me cover,” Remi added. “Fire a few rounds over Tarrant’s head. Keep him distracted long enough for me to get to the door.”

“And then what?” Brody snapped. “It’ll probably be locked. You can’t kick it down if you’re flat on the porch.”

“No, but I can call out to whoever’s inside and ask them to open it,” she replied quickly.

Brody hated it. Hated all of it. But it was obvious that Remi was going to do this no matter what he said.

She levered herself up just enough to reach the narrow opening between the bottom of the railing and the porch. And that was his cue to do something to try to make sure she survived this.

Brody took aim and fired the first shot into the sky.

It accomplished exactly what Brody had hoped. It made Tarrant stop firing. And Brody hoped the SOB had dived for cover.

Not wasting a second and not wanting to give Tarrant the chance to regroup and spot Remi, Brody fired again, this time aiming high, toward the thick branches of the tree. A second later, he squeezed off another round, this one hitting a limb near the top.

The sharp crack of splintering wood echoed through the trees. A branch snapped and tumbled down, and Brody heard the satisfying sound of Tarrant cursing a blue streak.

Good.

Brody hoped the limb had landed on the man’s head.

Heart pounding, he risked a glance over his shoulder. Remi had snaked her way through the railing, keeping low, and she was already on the porch.

And more vulnerable than ever.

There was zero cover now. Just Remi out in the open, crawling her way to the door.

Brody gritted his teeth and turned back toward the trees, his weapon still raised. He fired another round into the trees, but this time, no branch snapped loose, no startled curse followed.

Hell.