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by his mother, the girls were on their mom’s side when it came to this trial.

      Tucker wasn’t anywhere near that side.

      And that had made for plenty of tense moments in the past couple of weeks since Jewell, his sisters and his stepbrother, Seth, had arrived at the ranch. Because Jewell owned Sweetwater Ranch, he and his brothers hadn’t been able to turn them away, but there hadn’t been any warm welcomes, either.

      However, for now Tucker had to put that bad blood and ill will aside and find a backup. Even if it meant turning to a sibling or a stepsibling who disliked him as much as he disliked them.

      Tucker quickly scrolled through the numbers. He tried Rayanne first. He didn’t have her cell number, but unlike Rosalie and Seth, she was staying in the main house.

      His home.

      Because Rayanne had reminded everyone that it was her home, too.

      Yeah, calling her wouldn’t be much fun.

      Mary, the housekeeper, answered, and Tucker asked her to buzz Rayanne’s room. He said a quick prayer that she’d be there and not out visiting Jewell all the way over at the county jail.

      “What?” Rayanne answered, sounding about as friendly as Tucker felt.

      “I have a situation. Two armed men posing as cops are approaching my house. They’re possibly killers....” And here was the hard part. He glanced back at Laine’s bleached complexion and the baby she was holding.

      No, not that hard. Two babies’ lives could be at stake.

      “I need your help,” he told Rayanne.

      Tucker expected her to ask him for more details, tell him a flat-out no, or at least hesitate.

      She didn’t.

      “I’ll be right there. Don’t shoot me by mistake,” Rayanne snarled.

      He figured that last part was an insult to his skills as a Texas Ranger, but he didn’t care how many barbs Rayanne slung at him. He only needed a warm body who knew how to shoot just in case this came down to a gunfight.

      “If you have another gun, I can help,” Laine offered.

      “No.” He didn’t want the babies left alone, and he didn’t think it was a good idea to give an already shaky woman a gun that she might not even know how to use. “Stay where you are, and if I tell you to get down, do it.”

      That didn’t put any color back in her face, but she nodded and stayed put.

      “Where are the men now?” Laine asked. “What are they doing?”

      “They’re still following your tracks.” They were taking slow, easy steps, and only one of them had his attention on the house.

      The other was doing the tracking.

      Tucker mumbled some profanity when the men drew their guns, and he debated what he could do to try and diffuse the situation. He should probably identify himself as a lawman, but if they were indeed killers, they’d just try to eliminate him so they could get to Laine and the babies.

      Then they’d eliminate her.

      After all, they’d followed her here, which meant they knew she’d either witnessed the murder or had some knowledge about it or the dead woman.

      And that made Laine a loose end.

      The seconds ticked with each step the men took, and every inch of him became alert. Tucker had been in situations like this. Facing down suspected killers and waiting for an attack that might or might not happen. But the stakes had never been this high. He had two newborns to protect.

      One of the men suddenly stopped, his gaze zooming to the back part of the property. No doubt the route that Rayanne would be taking.

      Had they seen her?

      If so, he hoped his sister had taken some basic precautions so she wouldn’t get herself shot. He suspected she hadn’t when the other man pivoted in that direction. Tucker knew he couldn’t wait. He had to do something to make sure they didn’t gun Rayanne down.

      He reached over and opened the door just a fraction so he could see out. “I’m Tucker McKinnon, Texas Ranger,” he shouted to them.

      Like his earlier call to Rayanne, Tucker wasn’t sure what response he’d get from them. But the men stopped and lowered their guns.

      That was a good start.

      “I’m Sergeant Floyd Hines,” the one on the left answered. In his late twenties or early thirties, he was heavily muscled and had nondescript brown hair. “And this is my partner, Detective Norman Hacker.” He was on the lean side, with a mean-looking scar running down his cheek.

      “We traced a fugitive here,” Hines added.

      Tucker had to hand it to them—they sure sounded like cops. And maybe they were. Dirty ones. Because he already knew they weren’t SAPD.

      The rain started. Tucker stayed to the side of the door so they could still hear him, without him needing to put himself in the direct line of fire.

      “What fugitive?” he asked the men.

      “Laine Braddock. She assisted in helping a federal prisoner escape.”

      Laine made a sound of outrage, but Tucker motioned for her to stay quiet. Maybe the babies would do the same.

      “She’s not here,” Tucker lied. “You need to be on your way.”

      The men exchanged glances, obviously not pleased with his lack of cooperation.

      “Where is she?” Hines asked, in the way a cop would ask. A demand rather than a question.

      “Wouldn’t know. I’m not exactly on friendly terms with her.”

      Hines mumbled something to his partner that Tucker couldn’t hear. “We have reason to believe she’s inside your house,” Hines continued. “We’re coming in to check.”

      Well, they weren’t short of gall. But then neither was Tucker. “You got a search warrant?”

      That earned him scowls from both of them. “We figured you’d cooperate with your brothers in blue.”

      “Not this time. Come back when you’ve got that warrant.” Tucker shut the door and kept watch out the window.

      The pair definitely didn’t turn and leave. They stood there mumbling and looking around for what seemed an eternity. That eternity screeched to a halt when one of the babies started crying.

      Not a whimper, either.

      A full-fledged cry. Worse, the other one started to cry, too. No way could those men miss that.

      Hines raised his gun again and started toward the house. He was no longer moving at a cautious pace. He began to run as if he planned to ram right through the back door.

      “Wouldn’t do that if I were you,” someone shouted.

      Rayanne.

      Hacker pivoted in her direction. Fired. The shot blasted through the air, and he dropped to the ground behind a tree. Hopefully Rayanne had gotten down, as well.

      “Stay on the floor, as low as you can get,” Tucker warned Laine again, and he threw open the door so he could return fire.

      Hines bolted behind Tucker’s truck. That didn’t stop the man from shooting, though. This time, the bullet smacked into the door less than an inch from where Tucker was standing.

      Hell’s bells.

      So, he had his confirmation.

      These guys were killers, and they were firing shots into a house where they knew Laine and the babies were hiding.

      “Don’t go out there,” Laine whispered as Tucker stooped down and opened the door a little farther.

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