Chapter 8

Hunter had just closed the door when he sensed he wasn't alone. It was nine at night, and downtown was still busy with people finishing up dinner, but this was different. He glanced around but didn't see anyone as Maggie pulled a U-turn. Hunter turned to watch her drive off, not believing he'd shared his dating past with her when a man he didn't know strode from The Pink Pig.

Hunter was about to turn to get a good look at him when he felt the gun to his back. "Don't warn anyone or I'll kill you and then them. Do you understand?" he asked in a deep, conversational tone with a hint of an accent that Hunter couldn't exactly place other than it being Eastern European.

"Yes," Hunter said, already looking around him, cataloging who was where and ways to disarm the man so as to not put anyone else in danger.

"Hand it over."

That got Hunter's attention. "Hand what over?" What also got Hunter's attention was Damon stopping at Harper's Bar door. Damon turned and looked right at him.

Damon glanced down the street and Hunter's gaze followed. FBI Agent Peter Castle walked toward Damon. Next to Peter was Hunter's brother-in-law, Sheriff Granger Fox.

Damon caught Hunter's eye and, in a way only close brothers could do, Hunter passed a message. Damon looked away as he pulled out his phone. An SOS was going out and Hunter knew he had limited time to get as much information as possible from this man before he was taken down, either by Hunter or by one of his friends.

"Hand what that soldier gave you. Don't act stupid. Where is it?"

Hunter was actually confused. What did they think he had? "What soldier? Because I wasn't given anything."

"The soldier you managed to sneak out of the hospital. Why would you do that unless you knew what he'd found?"

Landry. Landry had something the terrorists wanted. That's why they tried to kill him. "That guy wasn't snuck out. He died and I came home. Mission over," Hunter told him.

"Bullshit. I believe he has a wife here. And you're here. Can't be a coincidence. If he didn't give you anything, you're useless to me. So, I'll ask you one more time to hand it over." The gun pressed deeper into his back. Hunter glanced at Damon and gave the smallest nod.

The man dropped before the report of a bullet reached Hunter's ears. The man whose gun had been jammed into Hunter's back dropped to the ground. It was a perfect kill shot to the head.

"Are you hurt?" Damon asked, running to him. He was the first one to reach him. He didn't bother to look to see if someone was still shooting. He was going to protect his little brother and Hunter loved him for it.

"I'm good. Nice shot, Granger. I guess I can't tease you anymore," Hunter said, looking to where Granger and everyone else were running toward them.

"I didn't shoot him," Granger said, looking around the street.

"Well, then great shot, Peter," Hunter said, holding out his hand for the FBI agent.

"Wasn't me," Peter said, similarly looking around.

Dare, part of the ATF, hurried from the bar with his gun in hand. "Thanks for saving my ass, Dare," Hunter called out.

"Wasn't me. I heard the shot and came out to investigate," Dare said.

Hunter frowned. Then laughed. "Hell of a shot, Tristan! Where are you?"

Hunter turned around in a circle and then saw someone walking toward him from the direction of the courthouse. The sound of cowboy boots echoed off the street as everyone turned to stare.

Hunter felt his mouth open as the pink dress swirled around Maggie's thighs. Her pearl necklace and pearl headband stood out in the moon's light. Maggie could take his breath away on any given day with her natural beauty, but what was robbing Hunter's speech right now was the pink rifle she had leaning up against her shoulder as she strode toward them.

Damon, to his side, snickered. Granger outright smothered a laugh. Dare was biting his lip and breathing really hard. Peter's shoulders were shaking with suppressed laughter.

Hunter moved to block the body from her view. She shouldn't have to see a dead man that Tristan killed, but then Maggie stopped right in front of him. She leaned around him and looked down. She didn't cry. She didn't throw up. Instead, she frowned. Here it came. The hysterics.

"Hmph. I was about a half a millimeter off center."

Hunter snapped his gaze to the shot in the man's forehead and then to the pink rifle she had leaning against her shoulder. "Okay, the gag's up. Funny prank, Tristan."

The guys burst out laughing and Maggie rolled her eyes at him. She turned on one booted heel and spun around, sending the skirt fluttering and giving him a very tempting view of her upper thigh.

Maggie strode away, but right before she disappeared from sight, she called out over her shoulder, "You're welcome for saving your life."

Hunter was still looking around for Tristan when Damon smacked the back of his head so hard that Hunter stumbled forward.

"What was that for?" Hunter asked.

"I'm trying to knock some sense into you."

"What for?" Hunter asked.

"Maggie just saved your life and didn't shoot you when you said Tristan did it and was pranking you."

Hunter chuckled, but then Damon hit him again. "Ow, stop."

"I'll stop once you look her up online."

"I got a dead guy here who knows about Landry, I can't—"

Smack. "Do it. Now."

"I'm—"

Smack.

"Okay, okay. Shouldn't we clear the dead guy from the street first though?"

"Here!" Harper called out as she ran toward them with an empty potato sack. "Just cover him with this. We're not here looking at him anyway. We're waiting for you to finally use your phone and look Maggie up."

Hunter glanced around and noticed that there were a large number of people gathering on the street, and they were in fact, staring at him, not the dead guy.

"Fine." Hunter pulled out his phone, opened his browser, and typed in Maggie's name and Shadows Landing because the search results surely needed to be narrowed down. What would Maggie be on the internet for?

Maggie Bell, Five Time World Trap Shooting Champion, Takes Aim at Rifle

Maggie Bell Silver Medal Olympian from Small Town

Maggie Bell World Rifle Champion for Three Years Straight

Maggie Bell Wins Again

Maggie Bell, World's Best Shot, Makes Rifle Shooting History

Maggie Bell Qualifies for Second Olympics in Rifle and Trap

The Bells go to Italy: Siblings, Gage and Magnum Bell, both Qualify for the Olympic Shooting Team.

Hunter felt his mouth drop open as a sinking feeling filled him. "Oh boy, I've really screwed this one up."

"Finally!" everyone called out, tossing their hands into the air.

Damon waited until Hunter looked up and held up his hand, wiggling his fingers to make sure Hunter looked at them. "Smart." Damon lifted one finger. "Funny." Damon lifted another finger. "Beautiful." Another finger. "Tough." Another finger. "Independent." Damon held up one full hand before lifting his other hand. "Doesn't scare easily." Damon raised his sixth finger. "And finally, can hit a bullseye from 400 yards." Damon looked down at the man and then up the street. "Although, I'd say she hit it at 800 yards. Hmm, now that's a woman worth marrying. Now, where did I hear that?"

Damon turned around and strode off, offering to buy people a drink at the bar for putting up with his dumbass brother for so long.

Hunter looked down at his fingers where he'd been silently checking off the boxed as Damon said them. Maggie fit every single thing he said he wanted in a woman and then some. She was understanding. She was compassionate. She made him feel like no other woman ever had, and he'd been a huge jerk to her.

Maybe she's been right in front of you this whole time. Son of a bitch. Damon and the entire town had been telling him all along that Maggie was the one for him, and he'd been too arrogant to listen. Meanwhile, she'd just sat back and let him keep putting his foot in his mouth.

Hunter smiled. Damned if that didn't make him like her even more. Now he really needed to find a way to make it up to her. Because while he might be slow to realize it, he was smart enough to know not to let the woman of his dreams walk away one more time.