The Target

skidding across the wooden floor until it was stopped by one of the Indian rugs.

    "Try anything at all and the next bullet will go in your head. I promise you that. Get away from her now."

    He backed away from her and stood. He turned to see a woman standing in the open doorway, wearing a black down jacket, black jeans and boots, a black knit cap on her head. Her face was very white, her irises showing huge and black. She was holding a Detonics.45 ACP, a nasty little pistol that could blow a man's brains out if he was within twenty feet, which he was.

    She looked strung out and quite ready to kill him, but her voice was calm, quiet, filled with hatred. "Move, you creep. I'm not going to tell you again. I don't want you anywhere near her. If I have to blow your head off, I'll do it. Damn you, get away from her!"

    "You don't want to kill me. I'm not the one who took her, I swear it to you."

    "You perverted piece of filth, just shut up. I saw you touching her. What would you have done to her if I hadn't shown up? Move!" He stepped two feet away from the sofa. She had the gun trained on his chest.

    Her eyes darted to the sofa. "Baby, are you all right?"

    It was her mother. But how had she found them?

    He said, "You really should believe me about this. I'm not the one who hurt her."

    "Shut up! Em, are you okay?"

    "I found her a week ago in the forest near this cabin. I didn't kidnap her."

    "Shut up! Em? What's wrong, baby? Listen to me, he can't hurt you anymore. I'm holding a gun on him. Come here, Em, come to Mama."

    She was mewling deep in her throat. She threw back the blankets, looking from him to her mother.

    "Get away from him, Em. I want you to come over here to me. I'm going to tie him up and take him to the sheriff. Then neither of us will ever have to be afraid again. I know you understand. Come here now, Em."

    The woman raised the gun. She said more to herself than to him, "You're very big. You're not going to let me even get near you, are you? No, the instant I try to tie you up, you're going to attack me. It won't ever be over, not until you're dead. I have no choice, none at all."

    "Sure you do. You don't want to shoot me. I didn't kidnap her. I saved her."

    "Shut up! No. I won't have you lurking about in the shadows, hanging over our lives ever again. I'll do it. I know I can do it. You're evil. You're a monster. Oh God, you abused her, didn't you? I'd prayed and prayed that the kidnapper hadn't hurt her, but you did, didn't you? You don't deserve to live. Em, come here, now. What's wrong with you? Come here so I can make you safe again." She steadied the gun. It was trained right on his chest.

    Suddenly, the child threw herself in front of him, her small hands grabbing at his knees. She yelled, "No, Mama, it's Ramsey! He saved me. Don't hurt him!"

    Both of them froze. Both of them looked into each other's eyes.

    She spoke before he did. "Now, Em, you know he took you away from me. He's using you, he's-"

    "No, I didn't kidnap her. I haven't hurt her. But I will tell you that this is the first time she's spoken since I found her in the forest more than a week ago." Slowly, he came down on his haunches, his thigh screaming from the exertion, but he ignored it.

    "Your name's Em? Is that short for Emily?"

    "No, Emma," she whispered. She was wearing one of his gray T-shirts, washed so many times it was softer than goat leather. She turned to the woman. "Mama, it's all right. Ramsey saved me. Really." She put her hand on his shoulder. She said again in that small tired voice, "He saved me, Mama. He wouldn't let anybody hurt me again. He gets really mad whenever he even thinks about it."

    The woman slowly lowered the pistol, but he could tell she didn't want to. "Who are you?"

    He picked up Emma and rose, aware that his leg wanted very much to give out under him. "Forgive me, but I've got to sit down. My leg hurts like the devil."

    The Detonics pistol jerked up again. "Don't you move, damn you. Put her down."

6

    HE IGNORED HER. She wouldn't shoot him now. He was holding her daughter. He carried Emma to the sofa and sat down. Only then did he say to her, "I've got lots to tell you. My name's Ramsey Hunt. You can trust me. Please."

    "Give me my daughter. Let her go."

    He set Emma on her feet, and she ran to her mother. The woman came down on her knees. He watched her as she crushed Emma to her. Tears streaked down her face. She kissed Emma, all over her face, ran her hands all over her,