Protection

Chapter 27

Chapter 27

The night air soothed the still sounds that were echoing through the Cooper house as it’s inhabitants rested peacefully in their beds. All but one sank deep into their dreams and escaped reality in the joys of their sleeping minds.

Clint, however, couldn’t force his eyes to close long enough to even try to rest. His senses felt alert and uneasy, and he knew that something was wrong somewhere. His mind had begun to grow weary of thinking reasonably as his imagination took over. His eyes were wide open, refusing sleep, while the muscles in his arms refused to relax. He felt apprehensive, yet he couldn’t force himself to relax.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Clint sat on the edge of the bed and lit a lantern on his bedside table.

Pop!

As soon as the wick inside the lamp caught on fire, the sound of the floor creaking in the kitchen could mean nothing other than a physical presence in the area. Every one of Clint’s senses tensed and became on high alert as he reached for the gun slung over the back of the chair to his left. He heard a muffled voice and relived the events of the night before. Whoever had walked in on Bliss was back, and he had every intention of stopping them this time. Taking his steps carefully, he tiptoed toward the door and turned the knob as silently as possible. The door opened, and he stepped out into the cold air outside of his room. His heart pumped pure adrenaline and he was sure that the intruders could hear it thumping. He walked stealthily down the hall and came up to where it led into the kitchen. He could hear the muffled sounds of two people whispering to each other. Pulling his gun from its holster, Clint placed his thumb on the hammer and took one final step into the kitchen. He was going to catch them this him and they wouldn’t get away.

“A’ight you two better freeze or I’ll blow a hole in you both quicker than you can even think about running,” he growled out at the intruders.

Suddenly, the one nearest to him whirled around and a gunshot fired. Clint felt a searing pain in his right hand, making him drop his gun. The intruders ran for the door and Clint bent for his gun, taking it in his left hand. Shaking off the pain as quick as he could, Clint winced and saw, through the view of the window, two riders approaching their two horses. He ran out after them, but they were already mounted on their horses and out of range by the time he leveled his unsteady left hand correctly in their direction. Disappointment washed over him as the pain took over in his hand. He looked down just as a drop of blood landed on his right foot.

His jaw muscle tightened in pain as he walked into the house.

The lantern lit and someone turned the wick up to cause more light to shine. It wasn’t until the light reached the person’s face that he realized that it was Grace.

“What happened?” she asked.

Clint hid his hand behind his thigh. The last thing he wanted was Grace fondling over him.

He didn’t answer her question, as he didn’t know what happened himself. He looked around the kitchen. Drawers and cabinets were pulled open, their contents in disarray. Pots and pans had been flipped over and the bowels had been rummaged through. Whoever was just inside the house was looking for something.

Grace hurried to begin cleaning up the mess as more footsteps hurried down the hall.

“This is getting old very quick,” Damian’s voice grumbled.

Clint rolled his eyes. Sherman and Damian entered the room, both of their gazes fixed on the mess around the room.

“Who was it?” Sherman asked.

Clint shrugged. “I have no idea. There was two of them.”

“And you couldn’t even hit one? So far I’m finding that your skills concerning are glorified. If this is the best you can do, then you might as well pack up now. My daughter could be killed with all the help you are,” Sherman snapped.