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in
his coffin.
    The threat against her life was a certainty,
and although she doubted they'd find her in Aspen, the man sleeping on the
couch was her only protection.  At the moment, he wasn't inspiring her
confidence.  She shifted in her seat and emitted a loud sigh.
    Still no movement.  What kind of protection was
this?
    Maybe she needed to go into hiding on her own. 
If only she had a way to obtain some kind of identification and money.  Of
course, she knew people who could procure things like that, but they were all
associated with her family.  Family and friends from a past she could no longer
claim.
    She was well and truly on her own.  Not to
mention vulnerable.
    She lifted a travel book about Scotland from
the coffee table and set it back down with a thud.  Nothing.
    "Something you need?"
    His voice startled her, and she squeaked.  She
eyed him, surprised that he still appeared to be in a deep slumber.  "I
thought you were asleep."
    He lifted a lid, exposing one ice blue eye.  "I
already mentioned, appearances aren't always what they seem."
    She adopted a nonchalant attitude, hoping he
wouldn't notice her pulse slamming against her throat.  "I suppose they're
not."
    "You forget, I spent time in the army. 
Sometimes the only sleep we got was ten minutes at a time on the side of the
road in the middle of the day.  I learned how to make the most of it."
    She nodded, feeling the idiot.  "I can't
imagine what that must have been like.  Thank you for your service to our country."
    He regarded her with a studious gaze as though
sizing her up and then nodded.
    She glanced about the room, not comfortable
with him watching her.  "I'm wondering what there is to do around here."
    He sat up and stretched his arms above his
head.  She watched, fascinated as his triceps bulged outward.  The white
bandage that circled his left arm expanded with his movements.  
    "What happened to your arm?"
    He glanced at it and snorted.  "By-product
of the job."
    "How do you mean?  What happened?"
    "Got shot during a standoff.  The guy had
already wounded several people."
    She widened her eyes.  He spoke of it like
being shot was nothing.  "I thought you were this expert marksman."
    "I said I was good, not perfect."  He
eyed her with a serious look.  "However, if you're concerned about my
abilities, don't ask him."
    "Why not?"
    "He's dead."
    She sucked in a breath, trying to shake off an
impending shiver.  "Do you always take killing this lightly?"  She
didn't want his attitude about murder to be the same as her father's.
    A pained look shot across his expression before
he transformed it into a blank mask.  "Of course not.  The men I killed
while I was in the army haunted me for months.  The man I shot the other day
was the first person I had to take out while serving in this capacity." 
His voice cracked on the last syllable.  He cleared his throat.  "No one ever
goes into those situations wanting to take a life.  But he wouldn't surrender
peacefully, and I couldn't allow him to hurt another citizen that I've sworn to
protect.  The situation is under investigation as we speak, but Sheriff
Williams is telling me they think he wanted to die.  Suicide by cop."
    She nodded.  She'd spent several hours hiding in
a dark warehouse in Chicago, consoling Danny because his uncle had done
something similar.  He'd double crossed her father and death-by-cop had been a
more humane way to die than what her father would do to him.  "I'm sorry. 
That was unfair of me to suggest you took it lightly."  She couldn't keep
comparing every man she met to the thugs who had pervaded her younger years.
    Milo stood.  "Speaking of shooting, I'm
pretty sure I still have some old coffee cans in the shed that would be perfect
targets.  We can work on your shooting skills if you'd like."  He seemed
to have reburied the distress she'd brought up.
    Her spirits lightened as well.  "Okay." 
If she was ever going to feel safe in this life,