Buch lesen: «The No. 1 Sheriff in Texas»
THE RANDELL BROTHERHOOD
Coming home to take a bride!
A home. A family. A legacy of their own.
Mustang Valley has long been home to the brotherhood. United by blood, trust and loyalty, these men fight for what they believe—for family, for what’s right, and ultimately…for love.
Now it’s time. Time for the next generation!
Brandon Randell is all grown up. He’s a detective with the Sheriff’s office and a mighty fine cowboy!
THE NO.1 SHERIFF IN TEXAS
Look out for Brandon’s cousin Jeff, coming soon! Hearts are fluttering because he’s back from the US Army and about to cause a whole heap of trouble!
Brandon pulled the truck up beside another one with the ranch logo printed on the door panel. He got out, opened the back door and helped Zach down from the raised vehicle. Before Nora found her way out the passenger side, Brandon was around the truck and helping her.
“Thank you,” Nora said, feeling a shock from his closeness. It had been a long time since she’d felt a man’s tender touch. Yet in the past week Brandon Randell’s hands had become very familiar. Their eyes locked and she instantly felt more heat.
“At your service, ma’am,” he said hoarsely.
The No. 1 Sheriff In Texas
By
Patricia Thayer
Originally born and raised in Muncie, Indiana, Patricia Thayer is the second of eight children. She attended Ball State University, and soon afterwards headed West. Over the years she’s made frequent visits back to the Midwest, trying to keep up with her growing family.
Patricia has called Orange County, California, home for many years. She not only enjoys the warm climate, but also the company and support of other published authors in the local writers’ organisation. For the past eighteen years she has had the unwavering support and encouragement of her critique group. It’s a sisterhood like no other.
When not working on a story, you might find her travelling the United States and Europe, taking in the scenery and doing story research while thoroughly enjoying herself accompanied by Steve, her husband for over thirty-five years. Together they have three grown sons and four grandsons. As she calls them, her own true-life heroes. On rare days off from writing, you might catch her at Disneyland, spoiling those grandkids rotten! She also volunteers for the Grandparent Autism Network.
Patricia has written for over twenty years and has authored over thirty-six books for Silhouette and Mills & Boon®. She has been nominated for both the National Readers’ Choice Award and the prestigious RITA®. Her book NOTHING SHORT OF A MIRACLE won an RT Book Reviews Reviewer’s Choice award.
A long-time member of Romance Writers of America, she has served as President and held many other board positions for her local chapter in Orange County. She’s a firm believer in giving back.
Check her website at www.patriciathayer.com for upcoming books.
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To my readers For those of you who’ve been following the Texas Brotherhood series since its conception at Silhouette, and now to its new home at Mills & Boon®, here comes the next generation of Randells.
CHAPTER ONE
BRANDON RANDELL sat in a booth at the coffee shop, toying with his mug. Anything to keep from looking across the table at his dad. Lately they hadn’t even been able to share a meal without ending up on this same subject. The same argument. And Brandon couldn’t tell him what he wanted to hear.
“I’m not sure I want to take over the running of the ranch.”
“Well, son, when do you think you will know?”
Brandon hated being cornered about this…again. He met his father’s piercing, dark gaze. Though in his mid-fifties, he looked much younger. Still big and intimidating, the years of physical labor had kept him in great shape. Some gray mixed in with his coal-black hair, and weathered lines around his eyes were the only differences he’d seen in the man in the past twenty-five years. That had been the day Cade Randell walked into his life and claimed him as his son.
Brandon leaned back in his seat, feeling the sudden weight of his sidearm, reminding him of his responsibility to the people of Tom Green County, Texas. He’d barely had a chance to stop for supper tonight.
He’d hoped the pressure to follow in the family’s ranching business had eased ten years ago when Cousins Luke and Brady Randell returned to the valley and helped form the Randell Corporation.
“I have commitments, Dad.” He hesitated, then rushed on to say, “This is my last week on patrol. I start as a detective on Monday.”
Cade blinked, then quickly covered his surprise. “When did this happen?”
“I got the news this morning. I didn’t want to tell you and Mom about the promotion until I was sure it was a done deal.”
“Well, congratulations, son. We’ve always been proud of your work with the sheriff’s department.” There was a hint of a smile. “And your mother will be happy you’re off patrol.”
“Thank you, Dad. That means a lot to me.”
Again his father nodded. “All the more reason to settle this situation. You have a commitment to the family, too. Your grandfather willed the ranch to you,” he stressed. “I’ve been running things along with your brother, but you’re past thirty, son. You should take it over, or sell.”
Hell, even more pressure. Well, he was the eldest. The next generation of Randells. “Sell part of Mustang Valley! Isn’t there a law against that in this family?” he tried to tease, but his dad didn’t show any sign of humor.
“Joke all you want, but since your last birthday, legally you own the land that the Randell Guest Ranch and the cattle operation grazing pastures are on. It’s not fair to ask your brother to keep running things on his own. He’s been working as the foreman. You need to make a decision, Brand.”
Before Brandon could speak, his radio went off. “A possible 10-14 in progress,” the dispatcher said over the radio. “Officer needed at the location of Burch and Maple, the West Hills Emergency Center parking lot.”
Brandon reached for the radio and identified himself. “10-76 en route to West Hills Emergency Center. Arrival less than five minutes.”
He slid out of the booth. “I’ve got to go.” He was out the door and jogging to the patrol car before his dad could say anything.
Brandon shut everything else out of his head. It was all about his job now.
He had found her.
Nora Donnelly tried to draw a breath, but fear froze her. It wouldn’t do her any good to fight, given the steely strength of the man who’d grabbed her and had her pressed against the car in the dimly lit parking lot. She was trapped.
“Thought you could get away with it, didn’t you?” the attacker whispered harshly against her ear. “Well, I got you now.”
“P…please, don’t hurt me,” she pleaded, thinking about her son. Oh, Zach. Who would take care of him? “Take whatever you want. I don’t have much money on me, but I can get you some.”
His hold tightened. “It’s good hearing you beg. I don’t want your money, but you are going to pay for what you did.”
He swung her around. She faced the burly man, who towered over her own five-foot-five height. She didn’t recognize him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t sent here to find her.
Nora didn’t have a chance to react before the man backhanded her across her face. The pain caught her off guard as she stumbled to the ground. He came after her as she tried to crawl away. He landed on top of her, trapping her against the asphalt. She screamed, trying desperately to fight him off. No, she wasn’t going to be a victim again. She bucked and squirmed, until he grabbed one of her arms and twisted it behind her back. She cried out.
He straddled her from behind, knocking her head against the ground. She fought the pain and to keep conscious.
“Have I got your attention now?” he snarled.
“Please,” she whispered, feeling his hands move over her. Bile rose in her throat.
Then came the distant sound of a siren. The attacker cursed. “I’m not done with you, yet.” He climbed off of her and was gone.
Fighting the pain, Nora stumbled to her feet and searched around for her purse. She had to get away.
That was when she heard the siren cut off then footsteps. She glanced up at the large shadow. “Please, go away. Leave me alone.”
“Ma’am, I’m Officer Randell with the sheriff’s department.” She saw his calming hand in the darkness as he brought his flashlight up to his shirt, showing her his badge.
Nora had always been good at holding it together. She had to, to protect her son. But suddenly her head began to pound and she closed her eyes against the pain. All she remembered was feeling the officer’s arms coming around her and holding her close.
“Please…He can’t find me again. Don’t let him find me again.”
“It’s okay, you’re safe now.”
She wanted to believe his reassuring words, but knew no one could ever keep her safe.
Brandon shifted the woman’s weight before she sank to the ground. He called for assistance and waited for help to come.
Don’t let him find me again. He ran her words through his head as he brushed the woman’s dark hair away from her face. Even in the shadowed light he could see she was young and pretty. Most abuse victims were, before some man got his hands on them. He should say fists.
Brandon took a breath to fight off memories of his early childhood, and the pain his mother suffered until finally she left her abuser, Joel Garson.
“You’re safe,” he assured her.
The woman groaned and turned her head toward his chest. A strange feeling came over him seeing the scrape along her jaw and the blood.
“You’re going to be all right,” he assured her again.
“Zach…” she whispered as tears flooded her eyes. “Oh, Zach, I’m sorry.”
Had that been the guy who worked her over?
He heard footsteps and looked up to see people running toward them. “Over here,” he called as he stood, lifting the small woman in his arms and carrying her to the gurney. He laid her down on the padded surface and started to step back when the woman opened her eyes. She gasped, and he could see the fear in her eyes and the tremble in her voice.
“Thank you,” she managed to mumble as the nurse tugged a blanket over her to ward off the autumn chill.
Before Brandon could speak, a nurse stepped forward. “Nora,” she whispered. “Oh, Nora, what happened?”
“Let’s get her inside,” someone else called.
Brandon would have followed the victim but another patrol car pulled up and rookie officer Jason Griggs emerged.
“We couldn’t find anyone,” the officer said.
“Did you secure the area?”
Together they walked back to the scene. “Yes, the security guards blocked off the exits and we’re checking IDs. But we don’t know who we’re looking for.” Griggs nodded toward the gurney being wheeled through the doors of the center. “Is the victim okay?”
“She was roughed up, but conscious.” He found he wanted to see for himself. He shined his flashlight on the ground, then picked up an abandoned purse and found a wallet still inside along with the car keys.
Brandon opened her wallet and read her license. “This Nora Donnelly was lucky someone saw the man grab her.”
Griggs joined in the ground search. “If the man wanted money, why didn’t he just grab her purse and take off? He held her a lot longer than needed—unless he had other plans, like a sexual attack.”
Brandon couldn’t get the victim’s words out of his head. Don’t let him find me again, she’d begged him. Then she whispered the name “Zach.” He glanced toward the emergency center. “I think I’ll go see if Ms. Donnelly is up to answering some questions. Maybe give us a description.”
Jason nodded as Brandon walked off. He had a strange feeling about this. When a man used a woman as a punching bag, it was more likely to be personal. Did Nora Donnelly know her attacker? Was Zach a husband or lover?
Once inside the sliding doors, he went to the large desk where a thin, middle-aged woman met him.
“Are you the deputy who saved Nora?”
He nodded. “I take it she works here?”
“Yes, she’s a nurse,” the receptionist said. “She’d just gotten off her shift…” The woman sighed with a worried look. “I knew that parking lot wasn’t safe. They need to put in more lights.”
“Wouldn’t hurt. Has there been trouble before?”
The woman shook her head. “No, but you haven’t caught this man, yet. He’s still out there.”
“Then make sure the security guard walks you out at night. At least until we find this guy. Could you please tell me where they took Ms. Donnelly?”
“It’s Mrs.—Nora’s a widow and has the sweetest little boy.” She smiled, then it slowly faded. “It’s a shame she lost her husband so young.”
So the attacker wasn’t her husband. A boyfriend? Maybe. He shook his head. He had to stop speculating and talk to Nora Donnelly. “Where did they take her?”
“She’s in exam room four. The doctor is with her now.”
“Thank you,” he told her.
“No, thank you…” She leaned in to read his badge. “Deputy Randell.”
“Just glad I arrived in time.” Brandon started off in that direction. His gut told him this was more than just an attempted robbery. This guy wanted to punish her, to hurt her.
Brandon stopped by the closed exam room door. He took a seat and waited, making notes about the incident and calling in to the station. It was another twenty minutes before a nurse came out. He stepped into the open doorway to see Nora Donnelly sitting up in bed. There was still a doctor and a nurse with her. When the doctor said something she gave him a teary smile, and Brandon couldn’t seem to get enough air into his lungs.
In the light he could finally get a good look at her. She had a heart-shaped face with startling sapphire-blue eyes. Her nearly black hair hung to her shoulders in waves. His attention went to her mouth, full and inviting, especially the pouty bottom lip, giving him ideas he had no business thinking about right now. If ever.
She suddenly looked in his direction. He swallowed the dryness in his throat and managed to speak. “Mrs. Donnelly. Remember me, Deputy Randell?” He walked in, trying to exhibit authority as the nurse moved out of the way.
She tilted her head slightly. “Yes, Deputy, I remember you. You helped me. Thank you.”
He shrugged. “It’s my job. I believe this is yours.” He handed her the oversize purse.
She hugged the bag close to her like a shield. “Oh, thank you.”
Brandon found it hard not to stare at her. She was beautiful—even with her jaw bruised and bandaged. The only other imperfection on her skin was a faint scar along her eyebrow.
He finally managed to tear his gaze away and turned to the young doctor. “How is she?”
“She’s doing fine, considering the slight concussion. She has some bumps and bruises, but I expect a full recovery.”
“Then you don’t mind if I ask her some questions?”
“Why don’t you ask me if I mind?”
Nora Donnelly’s soft, sultry voice lured his attention back to her. “I apologize, Mrs. Donnelly. Would you mind answering a few questions?”
When Dr. Jenson and Gloria tossed a wave as they left the room, Nora wanted to call them back. She didn’t want to talk or think about the attack. It was her next move that was important. And what could possibly keep her and Zach safe.
She glanced up at the serious-looking deputy. He wasn’t going to leave until he got answers.
“I’m not sure what I can tell you, Deputy.”
“There are just a few questions.” His gaze met hers. “Did you know your attacker?”
She hesitated, and knew he saw it right away. “No.” It wasn’t exactly a lie since she hadn’t recognized him.
“Can you describe the man?”
“He was big, really big.” She examined the deputy closely. No way she couldn’t notice his dark good looks. Piercing brown eyes, coal-black hair and square jaw. “Much burlier than you.” She shivered, recalling his body pressed against her.
“White, Hispanic, African-American?”
“White.”
“Did he say anything?”
She flinched.
“Mrs. Donnelly.” He stepped closer to the bed. “I know this is difficult but anything he said could be a possible clue to finding him.”
Nora shut her eyes. She knew she couldn’t lie—not about this. “He said, ‘You thought you could get away with it.’”
She opened her eyes to find him watching her.
“You’re widowed, correct?” the deputy asked.
She tensed, but managed to nod. “Two years.”
He wrote in the notepad. “Could I get a list of your most recent male friends?”
“I can’t give you one.” When he started to press the issue, she stopped him. “There hasn’t been anyone in my life since my husband. Only my son.”
Brandon found that hard to believe. “Surely you’ve had men ask you out. Maybe someone who didn’t want to take no for an answer? A coworker?”
She sat up straighter. “I’m a professional, Deputy. I don’t date anyone I work with. I repeat, I don’t date at all. Any free time I have I spend with my son.”
Was she covering for some guy? “Who’s Zach?”
She blinked in surprise. “Why do you ask?”
“You said his name when I found you.”
“He’s my son.”
He nodded, checking him off the list. “What about someone who was once a patient here?”
Nora shrugged. “I think I’d remember a man that large.” She took a breath. “Now, if you’re finished with the questions, I’d like to go home.”
Brandon hadn’t meant to upset her. “Of course. I’ll wait for you outside.”
She paused. “I thought you were finished with the questions.”
“I am for now. You have a concussion, so I’m going to be driving you home.” He didn’t give her a chance to protest, just went out into the hall.
Call it his detective skills kicking in a week early, but Brandon wanted more information from the pretty Nora Donnelly.
She wasn’t telling him something. Something that could possibly help find her attacker. She may not have known him, but he had a feeling the man knew her.
Over an hour had passed before Mrs. Donnelly had been released and was ready to leave with Brandon. In the patrol car she’d been quiet, except when giving directions to her home. She let him know that she was done talking about the attack, so Brandon didn’t even try asking her anything more.
So he took a different route. “How long have you lived in San Angelo?”
Nora kept her gaze on where they were going. “A few months.” She paused, then said, “I wanted to make a fresh start for me and my son.”
“Where are you from?”
She finally turned to him. “Phoenix, Arizona. Is there a reason for your interrogation?”
He shrugged. “I thought I was carrying on a conversation.”
“Since my head is pounding, I’d appreciate it if we didn’t exchange pleasantries right now.”
He nodded. Ten minutes later, they drove through the security gate at her apartment complex. The place was newly built, less than two years ago. Brandon had thought about living here when he’d moved into town, but instead he’d bought a townhouse as an investment. Of course, he already owned a ranch with a big house that he could move in to anytime he wanted to go back.
Brandon turned down her street and Nora directed him to a parking space in front of her apartment. The car had barely stopped when she had the door open and was climbing out by the time he got to her side. She reminded him of the Randell women: independent and stubborn. He took her arm anyway.
Nora tried not to walk too fast, but she wanted to get inside and away from Deputy Randell. Not only did she long to get into bed and try to put this night out of her head, but she also couldn’t let him delve any deeper into her past. If Jimmy sent this guy tonight, she had to think about her next move.
“Thank you, Deputy, for taking me home.”
“Why don’t I make sure you’re safely inside?” He stepped closer, blocking some of the light. Nora drew a breath, inhaling his clean male scent. His gaze met hers, causing a strange warm rush down her spine. She quickly moved away, giving him room to work the key into the dead bolt, then allowing him to open the apartment door.
Nora walked into the small entry, set down her purse on the table, then went into the living area to find Millie seated in front of the television. Her son’s babysitter turned around, then got up and rushed to her.
“Oh, Nora,” she cried as she examined her friend’s face. “You didn’t tell me you were hurt this badly.”
“Don’t, Millie. Like I told you when I called, I’m fine. Really.”
The gray-haired woman frowned. “You don’t look fine. Remember, I’m a nurse, too.” She glanced toward the deputy. “You must be Officer Randell. I’m Millie Carter, Nora’s neighbor and babysitter for her son. Thank you for bringing her home.”
“Not a problem.”
Nora stepped in. “I have a slight concussion so I couldn’t drive myself, but I’ll need my car to get to work.”
Brandon shook his head. “I don’t think the hospital will be expecting you to work for a few days. But another deputy is bringing your car.”
“Then you’ll have time for coffee,” Millie said before Nora could protest. “Cream or sugar?”
“Black, thank you,” he said.
Nora wanted to call Millie back, but her strength was gone. She had to close her eyes, suddenly feeling shaky. The next thing she knew, the deputy reached out for her.
“Whoa.” His arm came around her and he led her to the sofa. “You better sit down.”
“I’m fine,” she lied.
“You’re not fine. It’s probably a delayed reaction. Maybe you should go to bed.”
“No!” She shook her head, trying to erase any thought of this man in her room.
He crouched down in front of her. “Nora, are you sure you’re all right?” There was such concern in those dark eyes of his, but she couldn’t let herself lean on anyone, especially a man. Never again. It wasn’t safe for either of them.
“You’ve had a rough night.”
All at once tears flooded her eyes. She tried to blink them away. “I’m okay,” she lied. “I have to be.”
Brandon couldn’t stop the protective feelings he had for this woman. He wasn’t supposed to get personally involved, but Nora Donnelly made it damn difficult.
“Such a tough guy?” he said with a smile. “Let someone take care of you.” He found himself reaching out and brushing a tear from her soft cheek. His voice softened. “You don’t always have to be so strong.”
“Yes, I do,” she said.
Hearing the trembling in her voice, he pulled a blanket from the back of the sofa and wrapped it around her. “Are you cold?”
“A little.”
He rubbed her arms, stirring up some warmth. She felt so delicate. He didn’t want to think about what would have happened to her if he hadn’t gotten there in time tonight. “Do you have any family I can call? Someone who can stay with you.”
She looked at him with those startling blue eyes. His throat went dry and his chest tightened.
She finally shook her head. “Maybe Millie can stay.”
“Mom?”
They both turned toward the hallway to find a small dark-haired boy in a pair of Star Wars pajamas. “Mom, what’s wrong?”
Nora held out her hand as he walked toward her. “Zach, you shouldn’t be out of bed.”
“I heard you talking.” The child’s worried gaze took Brandon in, then searched his mother’s face. “What happened?” His eyes showed fear. “Did he find you and hurt you?”
Brandon caught Nora’s panic and knew his instincts were right. So maybe this attack wasn’t one of random violence. But he didn’t want the boy to worry.
“Hi, Zach, I’m Deputy Randell. Your mother had a little accident in the parking lot at work, so I brought her home. She’s okay now. I’ve made sure of that.”
The boy looked at his mother. “You’re really okay?”
She nodded. “I hit my head, so I have to rest for a few days.” She studied her son. “Hey, I’m the one who’s supposed to take care of you. How are you feeling tonight?”
“Okay.”
She embraced the boy and Brandon could see the love between them.
“Then you should be back in bed, Zach,” she told him. “It’s late.”
The boy pulled back from the embrace and shot Brandon a glance. There was worry etched on his face, far too much for a kid aged six, maybe seven.
“Your mother is okay, son,” the deputy said. “The doctor checked her over.”
That’s when Millie came into the room, carrying a tray of mugs. “And I’ll be here, Zach,” she told him. “I’ll take care of her like I take care of you.”
Zach finally gave his mother a smile. “Okay.” He kissed her then, and let Millie take him back to his bedroom. The older woman paused at the doorway. “Nora, yours is cocoa.”
Brandon handed the mug to Nora, then took his. “He seems like a nice boy. He worries about you.”
“There’s no need.” She stared down at her mug.
He took a sip of the hot brew. “Still it’s got to be hard to raise a child on your own.”
She stiffened. “I’m doing fine like a lot of single mothers. Zach and I don’t need anyone—we have each other.”
“But what if you’d been seriously hurt tonight…or worse?” He had a hunch there was a lot more to this story. “The attacker worked you over good, Nora.” He motioned to her face. “And what he said to you, ‘You thought you could get away with it.’” He watched Nora’s face…her jaw tensed. “Statistics show that personal attacks, like the one to your face, often mean the perpetrator is familiar with his victim.”
“For the last time, Deputy, I didn’t know the man, so stop treating me like I’ve committed the crime.”
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