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Stay still? She couldn’t move—couldn’t breathe. Her head buzzed from adrenaline and the pain of getting the wind knocked out of her. After what felt like an eternity, she managed to suck in a breath. Good grief, she sounded like she was dying.

Eric shifted above her. “Were you hit? Are you hurt?”

“I don’t think so,” she managed to gasp out. “What happened?”

“Someone put a bullet in your camera,” he said tersely. He cocked his head. Listening for threats? Allye tried to hear above the pounding of her pulse. She hoped his ears were working because hers were practically useless. He shifted again, just slightly. This time, she caught sight of his gun. When had he drawn that? Didn’t matter. She was just glad he had it.

As her breathing and heart rate returned to normal, so did her hearing. No more shots disturbed the serenity of the area. Insect chirrups and the soft slap of waves against the shore were the only sounds she registered.

Finally, Eric turned his head back to her and whispered, “Stay down. I’m going to make sure it’s safe.” He stood cautiously. Allye held her breath. Nothing happened. No bullets ripped through the night. No ... anything.

She started to rise, but Eric motioned her to wait. She followed the direction of his gaze. Someone was heading their direction. She squinted, but between the low light and her now-smudged glasses, she couldn’t make out much besides the fact he had a flashlight and appeared to be in uniform.

He stopped several yards away from them. “Park service. What’s going on out here?”

Eric identified himself and Allye. “Someone shot at us.”

“Either of you hurt? Need an ambulance?”

“No. Her camera took a direct hit, but he missed us.”

“Where’s the shooter?”

“No idea. We never saw him. There was a single shot, we dove to the ground, then nothing.”

“Okay. We need to clear the area to make sure he’s not still around. The two of you can wait in the back of my SUV until we’re certain the threat is gone.”

Eric extended his hand to her. She wasn’t sure her shaky legs would hold her, but she let him help her up. As he did, he whispered, “Lean on me if you need support.” He offered her his arm.

Relief flooded through her. “Thanks. I just might.” This was no time to insist on independence. Not if she didn’t want to risk falling flat on her face. She wrapped her arm around his and latched onto his wrist, hoping her grip didn’t look as white-knuckled as it felt as they followed the ranger to his vehicle. They climbed into the back with instructions to remain there.

Once they were settled, she removed her glasses to clean them. But when she looked at them, she grimaced. That wasn’t a smudge. A flying bit of camera must have scraped a deep gash across one of the lenses. She’d have to have it replaced—there wouldn’t be any repairing it. Another thought hit her, and sheshuddered. If she hadn’t been wearing glasses, she might be missing an eye right now.

“You really okay?” Eric asked. He leaned close to study her in the near darkness. “You have blood on your cheek.”

She instinctively reached for it and flinched at the sting. She touched the area more gingerly. “Just a scratch, I think. It doesn’t feel deep.”

“Good. I’m sorry about your camera—and the photos.”

“It’s okay. I’m just glad it wasn’t one of us.” She did hate losing her primary camera, but it was insured. And there would be other sunsets. But people weren’t replaceable. If the shooter had aimed just a few feet to the side, she could be dead. A few feet more, and Eric might be.

She shuddered again, and he pulled her into a hug. She allowed her head to rest on his chest. He was tense, but his heart beat strong and steady beneath her ear. She matched her breaths to his and felt her anxiety ease a bit, though she was still shaking.

Thank you, Jesus,that we’re okay. But if you don’t mind,could you keep this from happening again?

This wasn’t the first time she’d experienced a shooting incident, but she sure hoped it would be her last. Especially since this bullet, unlike the ones that had wrecked Corina’s storefront last year, had likely been aimed at her.

“Not on my bucket list,” she muttered.

“What?”

“Getting shot at—it wasn’t on my bucket list.”

Eric snorted. “I would hope not.” His words sounded brusque, but his rigid posture relaxed slightly. After a brief pause, he asked, “What is something on your bucket list?”

She suspected he was trying to distract her from the situation, but why not play along? “Something on my unofficial, unwritten bucket list?” She thought for a moment. “I’d love to photograph an active volcano.”

“An active volcano.” He sounded thoughtful as he repeated her words. “Any particular one?”