as he stared down the barrel.
Right now Lenny was more scared of not doing what Harry Lowe wanted than he was of going to jail for murder.
Not a good situation for Brock.
More fear and no small amount of self-disgust curled through his gut. He’d gotten careless. Now, it seemed it might be his night to die. He’d always wondered how it would happen. How he would go. If he’d be ready.
He wasn’t.
But now it seemed in this small church parking lot, hidden in the shadows of the trees, he was going to face his maker.
God, please…
His mind formed the prayer even as he calculated the odds of successfully jumping Lenny. He realized he would have no chance of tackling the man or reaching for his own weapon, now on the ground to his left, before Lenny pulled the trigger.
So he had to make a choice. Jump Lenny and take his chances or bolt for cover and hope Lenny’s aim was off.
Bad odds all around.
Lenny sniffed and aimed the gun point-blank at Brock’s head. “Sorry, dude, but a man’s gotta do what a…”
“Put the gun down, Lenny!” the voice came from Brock’s left behind the trees. Lenny jerked, whipped the gun toward the voice, and pulled the trigger.
Brock darted to the bumper of his vehicle, wishing he hadn’t kicked his weapon quite so hard when Lenny had demanded he drop it. It glinted under the streetlamp ten yards away, mocking his incompetence.
Then he heard the pop of another bullet and felt the buzz as it careened past his cheek to plant itself in the asphalt beside him. God, get me out of this, please. I’m not ready to face You yet.
Adrenaline pumping, he rolled for cover even as he heard the discharge of another weapon, the howl of pain and the thud of a body hitting the asphalt.
Running footsteps echoed behind him as he lunged for Lenny, who now lay face down, and kicked his gun from his outstretched hand. Brock flipped the man, then planted a knee in his would-be killer’s back as he swiped the cuffs from his belt.
Through gritted teeth, Brock muttered, “You’re under arrest for the attempted murder of a law enforcement officer. You have the right to remain…” He broke off as a pair of boots stepped into his line of vision.
With Lenny’s hands securely fastened behind his back, Brock allowed his eyes to travel north from the boots, up a pair of jean-clad legs to a belt fastened around a slim waist he could probably span with his hands. He let his gaze wander on up to the white shirt with a badge.
A badge with a star inside it. Right over the wearer’s heart. She held her weapon ready and steady.
When he finally reached his rescuer’s face, he knew in his gut exactly who’d saved his life.
“Hello, Ranger Hernandez.” Brock hauled his now-subdued prisoner to his feet and stared at one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. Tall, lean and fit, she kept steady brown eyes glued to his. He swiped an arm across his forehead. “I’ll say this for you. You have impeccable timing.”
Ranger Gisella Hernandez flipped her braid over her shoulder and stared at the man she’d already decided she didn’t like very much.
Number one, he’d stood her up.
Number two, he’d met with a known drug runner without any backup.
Number three, he hadn’t said “thank you” for her saving his life.
And she was supposed to work with him. As if she needed life to get any more interesting.
Give him a chance, she ordered herself.
She gave her hat a shove back on her head and addressed his timing comment. “You were supposed to meet me over two hours ago. I don’t like to be kept waiting.”
The man before her blew out a short laugh. “And I don’t like to look death in the face. Looks like neither one of us was meant to be happy tonight.”
For some reason, that comment amused her. She appreciated the fact that she didn’t seem to intimidate him, as her badge seemed to scare off more men than it attracted. Gisella fought to keep the smile from curving her lips, but wasn’t sure she succeeded when he raised a knowing brow. She gestured toward Lenny. “How’s he?”
Brock shot the man a disgusted frown. “It’s a shoulder wound. He’ll live.” Gisella thought she heard a silent “unfortunately” on the end of that last sentence.
“I wasn’t gonna kill you. You got this all wrong,” Lenny whined. He looked at Gisella. “I can’t believe you shot me.”
She turned to the dealer and gave him a stare that made him cringe. “I wouldn’t have given you any warning if I’d had a choice.” She looked at Brock. “You were right in my line of fire. I had to do a little maneuvering.”
So that was why she’d yelled. Typically, in that kind of volatile situation, a cop shot first, two lethal pops to the chest, and it was over. Her eyes frosted even more as she said to Lenny, “You’re lucky I always hit what I’m aiming for.”
“And you were going to kill me,” Brock ground out. “A fact I’ll be happy to testify to,” he said as he pulled the man to the car. As mad as he was at the man, he wouldn’t make him wait in the cold for the EMS. He wasn’t giving Lenny anything else to complain about that would prolong their night.
“And I make a pretty good witness,” Gisella offered. Then she sighed. “I’ll meet you at the station. I guess I’m going to have a lot of paperwork to fill out tonight. Not to mention calling my captain and getting him to do some fancy talking so I’m not assigned a desk job while this is investigated.”
Brock grimaced. “I’ll have to wait on the EMS to get here. I’d transport him, but don’t want to have to clean out my car. Speaking of which, there’s a videotaped recording of everything that just happened. Your boss shouldn’t have any trouble getting this cleared up ASAP.”
A glimmer of respect finally reared its head. “That’ll help a lot.”
He nodded. “I’ll get someone to take over for me and meet you in half an hour.”
“I’ll be waiting.” She shot him a pointed look. “Again.”
He gave her a slow smile and Gisella felt her heart tremble at his low, “I’ll be there.”
A little unnerved by the attraction she felt for a man she’d just met, she shook her head and headed for the vehicle she’d left parked on the other side of the trees.
Gisella had flown down from San Antonio, grabbed a cab and rushed to meet Brock Martin, one of the drug enforcement agents assigned to the El Paso area of the border.
El Paso was a twenty-minute drive from Boot Hill, which was a five-minute drive from Juarez, Mexico. Her objective was to pick Brock up and head straight to Boot Hill. She hadn’t planned on getting sidetracked saving his life along the way.
But
