a little bit from the emotion. He was obviously rattled, and grateful to have someone older and more experienced to take over being in charge. “I didn’t know what else to do, so we’ve all just stayed holed up in the kitchen since last night. I figured it’s where the food and water is, and there’s a hallway to a bathroom. We even slept in there so we could duck between the refrigerators if Mack came back shooting.”
“Anders, you’re absolutely brilliant. That’s exactly what you should have done. Way to take charge, little brother!” Carey said reassuringly, pulling his younger brother into his oversized hug and patting him firmly on the shoulder. The staff members who emerged from the kitchen smiled at the touching scene between brothers. Anders seemed visibly relaxed now that his big brother was home, but his face was still creased with worry lines.
“So what do we do now?” Anders asked, looking from his brother to the missing front windows.
“I’m not really sure. Dad just wanted me to get back down here. You guys can all take upstairs bedrooms tonight and sleep in real beds, and I’ll stay awake down here. Go ahead and start rotating through the showers, too, while we’re all awake.” He patted Anders on the back and pushed him gently in the direction of the stairs so he could go clean up. After the kitchen staff and housekeeper had trudged wearily up the stairs, Amy approached Carey and melted into him when he pulled her tight against his chest.
“A gun? Really? In your boot?” he teased, kissing her quickly on the lips between each question. “Isn’t that a little cliché, even for a big city cop?”
Amy returned his kiss before answering. “Well, we’re technically never off duty, even though I’m not in my jurisdiction. But Detroit teaches you to be ready for anything, whether you’re a police officer or not.”
“Why don’t you go upstairs and pick out a bed before everyone snags the ones with the good pillows?” Carey suggested. “I’m going to grab some blankets from the closet and fix up one of the couches down here but I’m sure I won’t be able to sleep.”
“Not a chance, cowboy,” Amy said, shaking her head and smiling ruefully. “This is practically a stake-out. You think I’m willing to miss this? I haven’t seen this much action from behind my desk in ages, I’m not about to sleep through it.”
“Somehow, I didn’t think you were going to,” Carey added. “even before I actually suggested it! So, if you’re not going upstairs to sleep…” He left his sentence hanging as he leaned down to kiss her slowly, letting his lips linger on hers before raising an eyebrow and giving Amy a smoldering look. “…what did you have planned? Hmm?”
“Well, I was thinking…” she whispered in a seductive voice, letting her eyelids fall until she peered up at Carey through her lashes. “that I would take the first watch as you slept.” She kissed him again, then teasingly added in a sultry way, her lips almost touching his. “Then, I could sleep while you stayed up.”
Carey laughed at her playful game, kissing her once and nodding his head. “That sounds like a good idea. Are you sure you don’t want to sleep first? I don’t mind staying up.”
“No, you did the last part of the driving. I’m good and rested. But before you crash, are you familiar with this kind of gun? I’ll pass it off to you when I go to sleep.” Amy watched Carey’s face for any reaction, prepared to explain why it would be necessary. Carey took her firearm and felt its weight in his hand turning it over.
“Yup, we all have to carry them out here on the ranch in case of animal attack. I was only giving you a hard time about your holster earlier. I usually wear one just like it. Not in my boot, of course, that’s a new one for me, just on my belt.” He kissed her one last time and hugged her tightly, then sent her off in the direction of the showers as well, pointing to his bedroom door and telling her she could get some clothes from his closet to change into while he retrieved their bags from the truck.
As the household, or what was left of it with the drovers and crew gone, settled in for some much needed sleep, Amy kept watch in a chair by the window, walking the interior of the house from time to time to check for anything out of place. She doused the lights to keep anyone outside from seeing in, and checked the locks on each door and window as she passed. Instead of feeling tense at this position of being in harm’s way again, she felt oddly at home, like she was doing the job she was meant to be doing instead of the job she’d reluctantly taken after being shot in the line of duty. This was what being a cop felt like again.
She checked on every sleeping person, too, walking carefully between the beds in the upstairs room to make sure that everyone was still in place. As she moved from room to room on the second floor, the sound of breaking glass followed by a sharp thud made her spring into action. She reached the landing at the top of the stairs just as Carey woke up and began screaming.
The flames that had been launched through the window with the homemade Molotov cocktail splashed across the antique rug in the living room, sending its fiery liquid searing over Carey’s flesh. She flew down the stairs and dragged him to the floor, smothering him with the blanket he’d been sleeping under.
“Get up!” Amy yelled after nothing more than smoke came from Carey’s clothes. “Help me roll up this rug!” They shoved the furniture out of the way and began rolling the rug in heavy turns as the fire licked at their hands and faces. Once fully rolled, they stomped on the center of the tube-shaped rug to put out any remains of the burning gas. Finally, they dragged it into the kitchen where it wouldn’t catch the hardwood floor if it was still burning, letting it rest on the cold tile floor, close enough to the sink where it could easily be doused with water.
The others ran down the stairs at the sounds of screaming, and Amy directed Anders to call Sheriff Matthews. He ran to comply as Meg retrieved several small bags of ice from the kitchen for Carey’s burns. She handed them off to Carey and a look of horrified guilt crossed his face when he touched her own-bandaged hand. Meg smiled feebly, telling him it was okay.
“How bad is it?” Amy demanded, her voice shaking a little now that the adrenaline that threw her into motion was beginning to wear off. “Let me look.” Instead of turning on the overheard lights and letting their attacker know where they were all congregated, she had Meg hold a flashlight over the bright pink skin that was already beginning to blister in places, bits of blackened, charred skin showing through where the chemicals had burned the hottest.
Anders returned with the phone in his hand just as Amy finished putting a loose dressing over Carey’s injured arm, dabbing a bit more burn cream on the spots that ran down his cheek and his collarbone where burning drops of liquid had scorched his skin. Anders swayed slightly, looking sick when he saw the burned skin but he managed to sit down solidly before falling. The smell of burning fuel and melted carpet fibers made him start to cough and wheeze slightly.
“He needs some fresh air,” Carey cautioned the others, sitting up in concern as his younger brother gasped for air. “This smoky room isn’t good for him. Take him to another room, and get his inhaler!”
“We’ll go upstairs and open a window just a little bit,” the housekeeper offered. “We won’t open it much, but I’ll have him sit on the floor so he can breathe it in.” The staff went with Anders to an upstairs bedroom, shutting the door behind them to keep the burning smell and smoke from following them in. Carey turned his attention back to Amy, who continued to dab ointment over his burns.
“You know, I think you just wanted to get my shirt off me,” Carey joked faintly, wincing as she pressed down too hard in one spot above his collarbone. “I mean it, if that’s what you wanted, all you really had to do is ask.”
“I’ll remember that for next time,” she managed to say, trying not to tear up at the obvious pain she was causing him. “I hope I won’t need anything as terrifying as a fire bomb to get you undressed in the future.”
“And I hope that’s not what it takes to get you to put your hands on me,” he surprised himself by saying. Amy’s eyes met his and she blinked back the tears, grateful that Carey could make jokes at a time like this, and even