"I can't do that."

"Trouble's brewing," Clayton warned. "Big trouble. I have friends over there that tell me what's going on. Things are getting worse. A lot worse. I don't want you caught up in anything."

"You said that already."

Sparrow started to walk away but turned instead, closing the distance before stopping in front of Clayton. He grabbed the man's chin between his fingers and lifted Clayton's head until they were staring each other in the eye.

"I worry, Sparrow."

"I know."

"We have a baby on the way. I don't want him or her growing up without you."

Sparrow was touched deeply by what Clayton was saying. He pressed his forehead into his mate's, extending his lips until they touched Clayton's.

Clayton's eyes jetted around until they finally landed on Sparrow's.

"All I can say is that I plan to make it home every night and I will do everything in my power to make sure that happens."

"Things go wrong."

"They do."

Clayton let go of a long breath. He pulled his forehead away and then rested his cheek on Sparrow's shoulder. Sparrow hesitated for a moment and then wrapped one arm around Clayton's back.

The closer Josh came to his delivery date, the more Clayton worried. Sparrow never argued with the guy. He knew the fear Clayton was going through. Anyone choosing to be with a law enforcement officer knew the risk.

But this was Bear County, not a busy metropolitan area. Although he'd been shot once already, Sparrow knew he was safer here than anywhere else.

"Now I'm really running late."

Clayton chuckled into Sparrow's shoulder. The sound wasn't filled with merriment, but resignation.

What Clayton was feeling mattered to Sparrow, but there was nothing he could do about it. "I have to go."

Clayton lifted his head and gave Sparrow a slow-burning kiss. Sparrow groaned, cupping his mate's face before he pulled away.

"I'll see you tonight."

"You better," Clayton said as Sparrow dug his keys from his pocket and slid behind the wheel.

As he pulled down the drive, he could still see Clayton watching him in his rearview mirror. He hoped that once the baby was born, Clayton would ease up.

Then again, the man just might get worse.

Sparrow spent the rest of his day going over station budgets, handling a few disputes in town, and spending time with the elderly residents at the local nursing home. They loved when he showed up.

Sparrow was a great listener and sat for a good hour as Mr. Sendil regaled him with stories of his youth. The man was quite the character and, from the stories he told, had led a very exciting life before retiring.

Now the elderly gentleman sat in a wheelchair, oxygen tubes in his nose, stopping once in a while to catch his breath.

Sparrow sat patiently and waited until Mr. Sendil began again. The town's young people could learn a lot from the elderly if they took the time to volunteer here. The residents were filled with a wealth of history.

Mr. Sendil lifted a shaky, liver-spotted hand that was paper white, the skin sagging as if ready to fall away. He patted Sparrow on the shoulder. "It's high time you got going. You've listened to me ramble long enough."

"Nonsense." Sparrow got up and grabbed a cup of coffee, taking it back to the old man. "I love hearing about how you and your buddies attended Woodstock or how you traveled the world. You're a very interesting man."

Mr. Sendil laughed, but it sounded more like a drawn-out wheeze. "Tell that to the ladies. Maybe I can pat a few behinds."

Sparrow chuckled softly as he shook his head. "Still got it?"

"Never lost it!" Mr. Sendil waved him away. "Now go."

Sparrow said good-bye to the staff before heading out. He passed the pond outside the home, the water like liquid steel as it reflected the color of the sky.

He was ready to call it a day.

That was until his radio squawked. Sparrow gripped the mic on his shoulder. "Go ahead, Harold."

"Got trouble at Lamont's Trailer Heaven."

Clayton's warning filtered through Sparrow's mind.

"What is it?"

"Mrs. Berchman called in. She said there's some suspicious activity right outside her home."

That could mean anything from a prowling stray cat to a drug deal. He wished she had been a little more specific.

Sparrow sighed. So much for heading home. "I'll handle it."

He drove through town and then out toward the trailer park. The further outside of town he went, the more dilapidated the scenery became. There were rows of houses that looked like they'd seen better days, some yards filled with junk vehicles or retired farm equipment.

Not all the houses were in disrepair. Quite a few were stunning to look at, with sprawling lawns and well-manicured flower beds.

There was no bad side of town in Bear County. The combination of well-to-do and poor blended seamlessly. The only thorn in everyone's side was the trailer park.

The department logged many complaints when it came to the residents there. It was a shame, though. A lot of the people who lived there were older. It was the younger generation ruining things.

Sparrow had tried his best to get rid of the trash that brought the place down, but for every lowlife he arrested, another sprang up. The hoodlums were weeds and Sparrow did what he could to rip them out at the roots.

All was quiet when he pulled into the park. This time of day most of the people were having supper-something Sparrow wished he was doing right now. Dresden was cooking ribs and Sparrow's mouth watered at the thought.

He turned down a few streets and then saw what Mrs. Berchman was complaining about. Some guy was standing right in front of her trailer, distributing drugs.

Sparrow watched the transaction take place before the guy spotted him and took off. Sparrow slammed the car into park and then got out, giving chase.

As he ran, he radioed for backup.

Sparrow hadn't been working out like he used to and he could feel the burn not only in his lungs, but his muscles as well. His left side started to ache but he pushed past the pain.

The perp threw something over a fence, but Sparrow wasn't going to stop to retrieve whatever it was. He'd go back once he had the guy in custody.

A car pulled out from a narrow street, almost clipping Sparrow. He slammed his hand on the hood as he skirted around it, spotting the suspect racing around the corner.

They were heading to the outskirts of the park. There was nowhere else to go unless the dealer ran into the large forest that ran for miles behind the homes.

He was about to give up when he spotted the perp climbing a fence. That fence belonged to Mrs. Coppen. The lady lived alone and there was no way Sparrow was allowing the scumbag to break into her house.

Gripping the edge of the wooden fence, Sparrow leapt, swinging his legs over before landing on his feet on the other side. He grimaced as his left side throbbed harder, but he didn't let the pain stop him, not when he could see the back patio door slide open.

Unsnapping his holster, Sparrow removed his gun and moved slowly toward her house. He stayed in a semicrouch as he neared the back wall.

A cat ran from the door and Sparrow almost shot the damn thing. From the darkness of the kitchen, Mrs. Coppen appeared. She peeked around the doorframe and then pointed toward her driveway.

Sparrow holstered his gun and took off.

As he approached the forest, a gunshot echoed over the treetops. Sparrow ducked, grabbing his gun again.

"Come out with your hands over your head!"

A second shot was fired and Sparrow felt the bullet whiz past his thigh. White-hot fingers of pain radiated through his left leg. He jerked forward but knew he couldn't go down.

Sparrow slammed his back into a large tree for cover before using his mic to tell Harold to send as many men as he could. He told the dispatcher his location.

"They're on their way, Sheriff. Dunham is closest."

A rumbling growl vibrated in his throat. He pressed the palm of his hand into his leg and immediately regretted doing such a dumb thing. When he pulled his hand back, it was layered with his blood.

Scanning the area, he didn't see the guy anywhere.

Sparrow moved slowly, using the dense foliage for cover. He pulled air into his lungs and then let it out slowly, letting his old training take over. As he stood there, Sparrow listened closely.

A twig snapped.

He followed the sound before stopping again to listen.

He could hear the sound of sirens in the distance, but Sparrow tuned them out.

His phone began to vibrate in his pocket. Sparrow couldn't answer it right now. It vibrated three more times before the text message chirp sounded, echoing in the quiet forest.

The bullet hit the bark right by Sparrow's head, sending splinters of wood everywhere. He slipped further behind the tree.

"You're not going to escape," Sparrow called out.

Dunham and two more deputies moved quietly through the grass, heading toward Sparrow. More sirens sounded and Sparrow knew that Harold had indeed sent the entire department.

He smiled when the K-9 unit arrived.

His department might be underfunded, but Sparrow had insisted on a K-9 unit. Living in a town where ranches and wide-open fields were common, it only made sense to him.

Deputy Forez nodded at Sparrow.

Sparrow nodded back.

The deputy released the German shepherd and Sparrow watched as Hulk took off. It was only a matter of seconds before someone was screaming for help.

Sparrow moved in, aiming his gun at the perp as Forez retrieved Hulk.

"Good job, boy." Forez rubbed Hulk behind his ears.

Sparrow wasted no time. He dropped his knee on the dealer's back and yanked the man's hands behind him, cuffing the guy.

"You shouldn't have run," Sparrow said into the man's ear. His voice was a growl as he led the guy from the woods.

"I need a hospital!" the perp shouted as he wiggled in Sparrow's arms and then swung his leg out, his foot slamming into Sparrow's injured leg.

Sparrow cocked his arm back and slammed his fist into the guy's face. "Settle the fuck down."

"Police brutality!" The man repeated himself over and over again until Sparrow shoved the guy into the back of one of the patrol cars.

"Need a lift to your car?" Forez asked as he opened the back door to his car and stepped aside so Hulk could hop in.

Sparrow's phone chirped again.

He pulled it out to see that Clayton had messaged him. Tapping the screen, Sparrow's heart froze.

Josh in labor!

Chapter Ten.

Clayton paced the living room, his cell phone gripped tightly in his hand. He'd called Sparrow a dozen times and had sent two text messages. Where in the hell was he?

Josh sat on the couch, rubbing his belly and breathing out slowly. Clayton had tried to take the man upstairs, but Josh said he wasn't going anywhere until Sparrow showed up.

"If you guys keep having kids like this," Jack said from the recliner, "we can apply for our own zip code."

Clayton glanced at Noah's father. The man held his hands up. "I'm just saying. Not that I don't love having them underfoot. Makes me feel young again to wrestle with the little shin kickers."

Josh slammed his eyes closed and moaned, his face pinched. "Where the hell is he?"