the horses for a distraction. If so, it had worked.
“You think he’s still outside the window?” Declan whispered, looking in at the light, as well.
Clayton shook his head. “He’s inside.” No way would a trained killer loiter around out there when the ranch hands were patrolling. He’d likely come with some kind of tool to break in and had gotten in fast.
Despite that horrible realization, Clayton didn’t go barreling in. Too risky. He couldn’t allow himself to be shot, because then he couldn’t protect the others. But he didn’t dawdle, either. It might have been a relief if someone had immediately shot at them. To have it over and done. And it would also mean the person wasn’t anywhere near Lenora on the second floor. But that didn’t happen, and it meant that someone was in another part of the house.
Maybe near Kirby, Stella and Wyatt.
Maybe headed upstairs.
Since it was on the way to the stairs, Clayton went to Kirby’s room first and listened for any sounds to indicate where the intruder was. Nothing. In fact, no sounds at all. He tested the knob, which should have been locked.
It wasn’t.
Hell, there was no way Wyatt would have unlocked the door unless there’d been some kind of emergency.
Even in the darkness, Clayton saw the alarm in Declan’s eyes. “Keep watch,” Clayton instructed Cutter, and he opened the door.
At first Clayton didn’t see anything, until he looked at the floor. His heart went to his knees when he saw Wyatt, Stella and Kirby. Not moving. All in crumpled heaps.
Declan rushed in, and he immediately touched his fingers to Wyatt’s neck. “He’s alive. He’s been stunned or something.”
Definitely not good. It meant someone had gotten close enough to do that. But at least Wyatt was alive. Maybe Kirby and Stella, too.
While Clayton wanted to help Declan check the others, his first priority was Lenora and the baby. If the intruder had done this to Wyatt, Stella and Kirby, then he could have done it to Lenora.
Or worse.
He didn’t let himself think of the or worse, but God knew what a stun gun would do to an unborn child. As a minimum, it could cause Lenora to miscarry.
Praying that he wasn’t too late, Clayton hurried toward the stairs. He hadn’t even made it to the first step when he saw something. A blur of motion. Someone dressed in dark clothes. He took aim but didn’t fire, because he couldn’t take the chance that it was Lenora trying to escape.
“Lenora?” he risked calling out to her.
“There’s someone in the house,” she shouted.
She was alive. He thanked God for that, too, but then he heard more movement. Not from the guest room where he’d left Lenora. No. This was much closer. Somewhere at the top of the stairs.
Clayton adjusted his aim and moved closer to the railing before he started up the steps. Shooting would be a huge risk, because bullets could go through the walls and hit Lenora.
That thought had no sooner crossed his mind when the shadowy figure darted out, and Clayton had only a split second to react. He dove to the side.
Just as the shot flew past him.
Chapter Sixteen
The shot was deafening. At first Lenora thought it’d been fired into her room. It took her a moment—one terrifying moment—to realize it’d been fired near the front of the house.
Where Clayton was now.
She opened her mouth to call out to him, to tell him to get down, but Lenora reminded herself that he was a lawman. Well trained in situations just like this. That didn’t help. She could only think about him being hurt.
And that ripped her heart to shreds.
She couldn’t lose him.
Still, if she called out to him, it might only make things worse. It could distract him at the worst possible time.
So far, all the attacks had been aimed at both her and Clayton, and Lenora didn’t believe things would change now. Their attacker was no doubt trying to neutralize Clayton, and then he would come after her.
She had to fight every instinct in her body to save Clayton, but Lenora moved away from the door. Away from the window, too. And she got her gun ready in case she had to fire and defend herself.
Her hands were shaking. Not a little bit, either. She tried to get control of herself. It wouldn’t do Clayton or her any good if she didn’t think like an agent. Of course, the problem with that was she was a pregnant trained agent, and she