Protecting Her Daughter (Wrangler's Corner) by Lynette Eason

and Zoe felt a burning sting along her left arm.
    “Get behind the tractor,” Lance yelled. “Someone’s shooting!”

SEVEN
    J ust as in the barn, Aaron grabbed her right arm and headed toward the tractor. Lance had his weapon out and was right beside him, his back toward Aaron, his gun aimed in the direction the shot had come from. Aaron pulled her around the front of the tractor and she slumped to the ground, her back against the heavy rubber tire. Lance rounded to the other tire and hovered there.
    Aaron’s heart thumped hard in his chest and he dropped to his knees in front of Zoe. “I’m getting really tired of being shot at.”
    “Tell me about it,” Zoe muttered. She shifted and sucked in a deep breath. “Ow.”
    He looked down and saw blood seeping through her heavy tan coat. Fear thrummed through him. “Oh, no, Zoe, you’re hit.” He scooted closer.
    “Hit?” She frowned. “As in shot?” She didn’t protest as he slid her wounded arm out of the sleeve. She gave a low hiss of pain but otherwise stayed silent.
    “Yes, but the fact that you’re talking and making sense is encouraging.” He looked up at Lance. “You see the shooter?”
    “Not yet.”
    “Lance? Aaron?” Clay shouted.
    Aaron turned and peered around Zoe and the tire. “We’re okay, Clay! Zoe’s hit, though not bad.”
    “You’re sure she’s okay?”
    Aaron examined the wound. No bullet hole, but a nice groove in her upper arm that would need a few stitches. “I’m sure.”
    “Backup’s on the way. Stay put. I’ve got Sophia right here with me and she’s fine.”
    Zoe seemed to deflate once she heard that Sophia was safe. Her eyes closed, and she leaned her head back against the tire. Another shot rang out. A puff of white snow lifted into the air just next to the tractor. Aaron flinched and tucked his head against his chest. Zoe drew in a deep breath, but didn’t move. Prayers slipped from his lips.
    This time the sound of gunfire came from the house. Zoe shot into a sitting position. “Sophia!” Aaron spun to see Clay at the window shooting back into the direction the original shot came from.
    “It’s okay, she’s all right. It’s just Clay. He must have seen something.” And been absolutely sure of what he was shooting at or he wouldn’t have fired back. Sirens wailed in the distance, and Aaron let out a slow breath, hoping the sound would scare the shooter off the property. And that someone would be able to chase him down and catch him.
    Police cruisers pulled into the drive and parked in front of the house. The car doors opened, and officers stayed behind the protection they offered. “Who went to the woods? The shots came from the woods behind the barn.” Clay’s voice came from behind the cracked front door.
    “Parker and Joy.” Aaron thought he recognized Walter Haywood’s voice in response to Clay’s question. Parker Little and Joy West were two other deputies with the rapidly expanding Wrangler’s Corner sheriff’s department.
    “Stay put until we hear from them,” Clay ordered. “Aaron, Lance? You still okay?”
    “We’re all right,” Lance called back. He caught Aaron’s gaze. “How bad is it?”
    “Not that bad.” Zoe’s pale features worried him. Her eyes were open and watching, though. He leaned in for a closer look. “A couple of stitches, and you’ll be fine. Okay?”
    “Yes, it stings, but I don’t think I’m going to die from it.”
    If he thought there was any chance she was in danger of dying from the wound, they wouldn’t still be behind the tire. Somehow they’d be on the way to the hospital. He shrugged out of his jacket and pulled his sweater and long-sleeved T-shirt over his head. He yanked the sweater back on then fished in his jeans for the pocketknife he’d started carrying.
    If he was ever duct-taped again, at least he’d have a fighting chance. Using the knife, he cut off one of the sleeves and wrapped it around her upper arm, pulling it tight to stop