Family Ties Read online

  Table of Contents

  Cover Page

  Excerpt

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Books by Joanna Wayne

  Dedication

  Title Page

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Copyright

  “How did you find me?”

  “You look so surprised, Ashley. Does that mean you’ re not glad to see me?”

  The blood drained from her brain and a sickening swimming sensation rocketed through her senses. She’d thought she was prepared for anything, but nothing could have prepared her for this.

  “You have no right to follow me,” she said, clutching her little boy to her body.

  “I have every right.” He stooped to look her son in the eye. “Hello, little fellow.”

  “Go bye-bye,” Petey said.

  “So I see.” He tousled Petey’s dark hair and then stood, his eyes burning into Ashley’s. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?” He touched her arm.

  Her heart jumped erratically. Almost three years had passed and Dillon Randolph’s touch was still like fire to her skin. “We have nothing to talk about,” she whispered.

  “We have everything to talk about,” he said fiercely. “You have my son. And I’ve come to take him home.”

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Joanna Wayne lives with her husband just a few miles from steamy, exciting New Orleans, but her home is the perfect writer’s hideaway. A lazy bayou, complete with graceful herons, colorful wood ducks and an occasional alligator, winds just below her back garden. When not creating tales of spine-tingling suspense and heartwarming romance, she enjoys reading, golfing or playing with her grandchildren, and, of course, researching and plotting out her next novel. Taking the heroine and hero from danger to enduring love and happy-ever-after is all in a day’s work for her, and who could complain about a day like that?

  Books by Joanna Wayne

  HARLEQUIN INTRIGUE

  288-DEEP IN THE BAYOU

  339-BEHIND THE MASK

  389-EXTREME HEAT

  Don’t miss any of our special offers. Write to us at the following address for information on our newest releases.

  Harlequin Reader Service

  U.S.- 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

  Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

  Books by Joanna Wayne

  HARLEQUIN INTRIGUE

  288-DEEP IN THE BAYOU

  339-BEHIND THE MASK

  389-EXTREME HEAT

  Don’t miss any of our special offers. Write to us at the following address for information on our newest releases.

  Harlequin Reader Service

  U.S.- 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

  Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

  With special thanks to Wallace and Sissy Martin for their warm south Texas hospitality, and to Bill Martin for giving me insight into the life of a real cowboy. And to Wayne, always.

  Family Ties

  Joanna Wayne

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Ashley Jackson—Marrying Dillon Randolph is supposed to be the beginning of a dream. Instead it only intensifies the nightmare.

  Dillon Randolph—Tough Texas senator and part owner of the vast Burning Pear Ranch. He always gets what he wants, even in the face of a bullet.

  Petey—The son Ashley loves more than life itself, but will she have to give him up to keep him safe?

  Branson, Langley and Ryder Randolph—Dillon’s younger brothers, all true to their own version of the cowboy creed and all with their own agendas.

  Mary Randolph—Ashley’s mother-in-law and the closest thing she’s ever known to a real mother.

  Peter Jackson—Ashley’s older brother. He’s been dead for seven years, but his criminal past still fills her heart with fear.

  Lester Grant—Seven years ago he was Peter Jackson’s accomplice in a violent bank robbery. Now he’s out of jail and ready to make good on all his threats.

  Trick and Riff—Burning Pear ranch hands. Always ready to serve and protect-or are they?

  Prologue

  Music from the antique organ drifted up the curved staircase, and Ashley Jackson struggled to match her erratic heartbeat to the soothing tune. She stood still, barely daring to breathe, determined to commit each sight and sound to memory. Everything about this day was like a beautiful dream.

  And dreams, at least the good ones, had never had a lot of staying power in her life. One wrong move and she’d wake up or drift into the nightmare that always found her no matter how fast or how far she ran.

  Mother Randolph stepped beside her, a rosy ball of cherry pink satin highlighted by a topknot of honey-colored hair just starting to gray. “Are you ready?” she asked, giving a last smoothing touch to her coif.

  “More than ready.” Ashley ran trembling fingers across the lacy satin of her wedding gown, but her gaze remained glued to the polished wood floor.

  “Good. A house full of sons, and now I’m finally getting a daughter. I just wish my husband was still alive to share the moment.” She squeezed Ashley’s hand. “You’ll be good for Dillon. He needs someone sweet and loving like you to soften his edges and make him slow down.”

  “I’m not sure I can do that.”

  “You can if anyone can.” She brushed Ashley’s right cheek with her lips as her third-born son walked into the guest bedroom.

  “You two can shape up Dillon later,” Langley said, taking his mother’s arm to guide her down the steps of the rambling ranch house. “After we officially make Ashley a member of the Randolph clan.”

  Ashley waited at the top of the steps with Ryder, the youngest brother, the one assigned to escort her down the aisle. All the brothers were in the wedding party. It was the Randolph way, even though Ashley was sure Branson was standing in as Dillon’s best man under protest.

  He was the only Randolph who had not welcomed her with open arms. “Fell off the horse and won’t climb back on,” Dillon had told her, referring to Branson’s experiences with a woman instead of an actual horse. “Suspicious as they come, but you’ll win him over in no time,” Dillon had predicted. So far his predictions had failed to reach fruition.

  Ryder tugged on his black tails. It occurred to her it was the first time she’d ever seen him out of his jeans or his impressive silver belt buckle.

  “You’ll be good for Dillon, all right.” He echoed his mother’s sentiments as he reached down to rub a smeared spot off his black boots. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to my big brother. Not that he deserves it.”

  Ryder stepped to her side, patting Ashley’s hand before wrapping it around his arm. “And I plan to make sure he’s just as good for you. If not, he’ll answer to me.”

  “How would he do that? You’re always off on the rodeo circuit, from what I hear.”

  “Not always. Heck, I’m home a month or two every year. Most years, anyway.”

  Ashley squeezed his arm and waited for her signal to begin the walk to the altar. She had to be the luckiest woman in the whole world. In a few minutes she’d become Mrs. Dillon Randolph, and in the bargain she was gaining a terrific family.

  Love and a family, a package deal. Before she picked up her
bouquet of fresh wildflowers, her fingers found their way to the gold locket that dangled from her neck. It had been Dillon’s grandmother’s. A family heirloom around the neck of the poor foster kid from Longview. She’d come a long way.

  The music stopped, and Ashley’s heart plummeted to her stomach. Something must be wrong. But seconds later the organist began the first strains of the wedding march. Ashley swayed against Ryder, her head spinning.

  “It’s not too late to back out,” he teased. “Just say the word, and I’ll trade places with Dillon, and you can marry the best Randolph.”

  “No, I’d never back out.” Trembling, she smiled at Ryder, but he didn’t smile back. His dark eyes were shadowed.

  “Are you sure everything’s all right? You do love Dillon, don’t you?”

  “More than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life. More than I thought possible.” Her heart strained to near bursting.

  “Then let’s get this horse out of the corral.” Once again a smile lit his face, and he stepped forward, pulling her along. She followed, satin rustling as her legs brushed against the yards of snow white fabric.

  Halfway down the steps, she caught sight of her groom. Dillon was waiting for her, so handsome in his dark tuxedo it almost hurt to look at him. She’d loved him the minute she’d laid eyes on the man as he rushed around the state capitol, power and purpose exuding from him like starlight in the Texas sky.

  Oh, she’d heard the rumors about him, that he was headstrong and ruthless, that he’d run over anyone who stepped in his way. But as soon as she met Dillon, she knew the stories were gross exaggerations. He was exciting, yet tender and loving and he’d swept her off her feet with one heart-stopping kiss.

  She all but skipped down the last step to stand beside him. His smile caressed her, and her insides melted. The world was right. How could anything go wrong as long as he loved her?

  Fortunately, the service was short, as Ashley only half listened, somehow managing to say I do at the right time. Finally, the preacher reached “You may kiss the bride.” Dillon nudged her face upward with a gentle touch of his thumb beneath her chin. “About time,” he mouthed, as he lowered his lips to hers.

  “And now I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Dillon Randolph.” The preacher’s voice echoed around them as the couple turned to face a houseful of applauding guests.

  Mrs. Dillon Randolph. It was really true. Now she could finally let her past sleep in peace. The threat she’d received was powerless. No one could hurt Dillon Randolph. He’d told her so himself. And now no one could hurt her. Her new life had begun.

  The music started again, a lively version of “The Yellow Rose of Texas,” and Dillon wrapped an arm about her waist, whisking her past a stream of well-wishers and out the front door. The reception was already set up, right here on Burning Pear, the Randolph ranch that had been in the family for generations.

  Dillon would never have considered having it anywhere else. His roots to the place ran so deep, Ashley sometimes suspected they reached nearly to China.

  The late afternoon sun shone on long tables covered with white cloths and tons of food. Real food, as Dillon called it. Texas style. Barbecue that had turned on the spit since yesterday, and huge bowls of potato salad, baked beans and corn on the cob. None of that sissy wedding food people in other states ate.

  “Congratulations, Senator. Just like we suspected. You wound up with the prettiest girl in the state.”

  “Thank you, Bill. And I agree with you.”

  Ashley smiled as family and friends surrounded them, shaking Dillon’s hand and clapping him on the back, hugging her. Voices, laughter, tinkling glasses and the crack of an escaped balloon that struck the limb of a mesquite tree and burst. And happiness everywhere. Everything a wedding should have.

  Dillon stuck a glass of champagne into her hand. “I’ve got to go talk to one of the guests,” he whispered, kissing her ear. “One minute of business, and then I’m all yours.”

  Anticipation danced up her spine. She already knew exactly what that meant.

  “Do I get to kiss the bride?” Langley said, appearing from nowhere to take Dillon’s place as escort.

  “Indeed you do.” She turned a cheek for his brotherly peck. Another balloon burst, louder this time, the noise cracking through the din of voices.

  “Oh, no! Oh, my God, no!”

  Ashley jerked around as cries silenced the laughter. Panic surged inside her, and she stared in disbelief. Dillon was on the ground a few yards away. He wasn’t moving. Only the blood was moving, spreading around him in a lake of crimson.

  This wasn’t happening. She’d open her eyes and see it wasn’t real.

  But opening her eyes didn’t change a thing. Just like marrying Dillon hadn’t. She’d been a fool to think there was a way out. She’d been warned. She hadn’t listened, and this was the price she had to pay.

  Gasping, she lunged forward as her knees buckled, hurling her into the familiar pits of hell.

  Chapter One

  “This is our family suite,” Ashley said, opening the door to a spacious room and motioning for the group of three women and a lone man to walk in ahead of her. “It has two double beds, a kitchenette with a small refrigerator and a microwave.” She waited for them to enter before adding the clincher. “And an alcove with bunk beds that sleeps two children.”

  “This is what I’d need with my brood,” the petite brunette said, opening the door of the minute refrigerator.

  “Most of the group would,” the older woman added. “What kind of price could you give us on a room like this?”

  “For the size conference you’re talking about, we could let you have this room for eighty-nine dollars, plus tax. That’s forty percent below our usual rate.” Ashley crossed the blue carpet and pulled the curtain open, letting streams of bright sunlight flood the room.

  “And look at that view!” The trim middle-aged woman who headed the lodging committee stepped over to the window and looked out on the miles of ocean and white sandy beaches. “I could stay here forever.”

  Ashley stood quietly and let the group talk among themselves, trying not to stare at her watch. She had shown this group of scouts everything the resort had to offer, and she was more than ready to send them on their way.

  It was time to pick up Petey from the day-care center, and she hated to be late. He’d be waiting for her, ready to tear across the floor into her arms. And she was ready for her hug.

  “It must be wonderful living in a world of constant sunshine.” The voice of the lone man broke into her thoughts.

  “It’s great here,” she admitted, “but I have to confess, we do get occasional clouds and showers. The best part is they usually don’t last long.”

  “Are you from here originally?”

  A chilly shiver snaked Ashley’s spine, and she did a quick study of the man who had asked the question. An easy smile played on his lips, his eyes open and friendly. It was a casual comment, she assured herself.

  She was growing absolutely paranoid. Last week on the beach, she’d panicked over a woman snapping a picture of Petey and her building sand castles. And who could blame the woman? Petey was so adorable.

  “I’m from Louisiana,” she lied, “but I’ve been here for almost a year now, and I love it.”

  “I can see why. These are the whitest beaches I’ve seen in the States, and the water sparkles like green glass.”

  “It’s known as the emerald coast, and our resort has some of the finest facilities on the beach,” she answered, ready to wrap up the tour. “I think I’ve shown you everything, so why don’t you think about it tonight over dinner, and we’ll talk again tomorrow.”

  “Sounds great,” the brunette said. “I’m ready to change into a bathing suit and have a frozen daiquiri on the beach.”

  “I recommend it heartily,” Ashley said, moving toward the door.

  Chattering about dinner plans, the group followed her into the hall. She stifled a sigh of relief as they
walked away.

  “Miss Singleton.”

  She jumped at the words. Miss Singleton. Something else she’d never grown comfortable with. Neither the Miss nor the Singleton were accurate, but they were necessary. She turned and waited as the man hurried in her direction. Evidently he had one last question that wouldn’t wait.

  “Would you join us for dinner?”

  The question took her by surprise. “I’m sorry, I already have dinner plans,” she answered, taken aback by the trace of disappointment she felt in saying no. “But I appreciate the invitation.”

  “Then how about later, for a drink and dancing? I hear you have a wonderful trio in the lounge tonight.”

  She hesitated again. It had been so long since she’d let herself slide into a man’s arms, even for a dance. And this man seemed nice and perfectly harmless.

  “I’m not a great dancer, but I promise I won’t step on your toes.” He smiled as he coaxed, no doubt encouraged by her hesitation. “What could a few dances hurt?”

  Probably nothing. It might even be good for her. Nervously, she fingered the chain of the locket that hung around her neck. The last time she’d danced had been the night before her wedding….

  She forced the image from her consciousness. “No, I’m sorry. I can’t,” she murmured, struggling for a calm voice.

  “Okay. But you can’t blame a man for asking. Not when the woman’s as pretty as you are.”

  “Thanks. For the compliment and the invitation, but I really do have plans.”

  “He’s a lucky guy.”

  Ashley took the steps down two flights to her office. She’d drop her notes on her desk and check her messages. Then she could get out of here, pick up Petey and head for her apartment.

  Petey was the one person who could keep her clearly focused in the present. Almost two years old and changing every day. Learning new words, picking up new concepts, even adopting a few bad habits. Like kicking and temper tantrums when he didn’t get his way. The terrible twos were banging at the door, and she was sure now the term hadn’t been coined without just cause.