Page 35 of Valor

“What? You can’t leave!” Pastor Luke’s eyes widened with apprehension. “That’s not fair to me. The police will have questions. They’ll want your gun to match with the bullets that were fired. They’ll need to understand what happened here.”

Owen ignored him, his gaze boring into Emily’s. “You know we can’t stick around for thirty minutes. I’m sorry, but we need to get out of here. We’ll need to arrange for Doug to meet us at another location.”

After a long moment, she nodded. “I think you’re right. Staying isn’t an option.”

Pastor Luke began to protest in earnest. “You can’t just leave. What if this man dies and your boyfriend is wanted for murder?”

Emily reached over to grasp the pastor’s hands, guiding them into position on the thick pad of linens. “He won’t die as long as you keep holding pressure. Lean in and put all your weight into it. Yes, like that.” She flashed a wry smile, rose to her feet, and took a step back. “I’m sorry, Pastor Luke. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

“Yes, I’m sorry too.” Owen did feel bad about the shooting, but he wouldn’t have done anything different either. Other than not leaving Emily here in the first place.

Why had he thought the church would be a safety zone? He was beginning to think such a place didn’t exist.

Except maybe in heaven. But certainly not down here on earth.

He pushed Bear into Emily’s arms, then drew her toward the door. He wanted to get away before the police and ambulance arrived.

“Hold on for a sec.” He took a quick peek at the parking area outside. When the coast was clear, he opened the door, stepping out into the sunshine. For a moment, he debated taking the black SUV. He had the key, but then he remembered how the newer cars had GPS trackers inside. “Head over to the truck, okay?”

“Yes.” Emily quickly carried Bear to the truck. He noticed that the black electrical tape he’d put on the license plate was beginning to peel away. Swallowing hard, he knew sticking with the stolen truck was a risk too.

He slid in behind the wheel and quickly started the engine. Then he drove out of the church parking lot. They’d barely cleared the place when a sheriff’s deputy squad and an ambulance came rushing in from the other direction.

“That was close,” Emily murmured as she stroked Bear’s fur.

No lie. He drove east toward the Interstate 90 interchange. The town of Ranchester was too small for them to find a place to wait for Doug. They’d need to stick with his original plan. Get across the state line into either Montana or South Dakota. At this point, he didn’t care which.

“Thanks for saving my life,” Emily said as they approached the interchange.

He didn’t want her gratitude. He wanted this nightmare to be over.

“Oh, rats, I forgot Bear’s dog food and dish.” Emily frowned. “We’ll have to stop and pick up additional supplies along the way.”

The way she said the comment so casually brought a flash of annoyance. They were dodging bad guys, not out for a weekend holiday.

Maybe it was time for him to stop running. He was so exhausted he could barely see straight. Much less think clearly.

This had gone on long enough—with too many near misses to keep track of. Maybe it was time to throw himself on Doug Bridges’s mercy.

Especially if doing so would eliminate the target that was etched on Emily’s back.

* * *

Emily still couldn’t believeOwen had come back to the church in time to save her life for the fourth, or was it the fifth, time? She’d really expected him to have been on the interstate by now, putting miles and miles of distance between them. Especially since she’d sneaked behind his back to call Doug, alerting him of their location.

Yet here they were, back in the stolen truck approaching the interstate.

She couldn’t summon an ounce of regret. If these next few hours were all the time she had left with Owen, she’d gladly take them.

She still hadn’t given up on her mission to help Owen find and accept Jesus. Bear repositioned himself on her lap, making her smile.

Yes, there was still time for her to get through to Owen.

“Which way?” He glanced at her as Interstate 90 came into view. He pulled off to the side of the road, keeping the truck engine idling. “The highway basically runs east to west, but it also leans slightly north toward Montana. If we go east, we’ll eventually reach South Dakota.”

“Looks like the next closest town is Sheridan, Wyoming, which is to the southeast.”

He hesitated for a long moment, then turned the truck to get on the eastbound ramp. “It’s a little obvious, but I’m hoping Sheridan is big enough that we can find a place to lay low for a while.”