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

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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.”

CHAPTER TWO

HANK BARRETT squinted into the bright, September sun. Off in the distance he spotted the familiar black truck driving under the Circle B archway. Brandon. Smiling, he stepped off the back porch to go and greet his eldest grandson. He knew that his fifteen grandkids had better things to do than come visit an old man. But this sure made his day.

Eighty years old on his last birthday, Hank had been blessed with good health. Thankful that he could still climb on a horse, he liked to supervise the ranch work rather than do it these days. And he got to spend time with his three sons, Chance, Cade and Travis. The boys might have been adopted, but he loved them as much as if they were his own blood. No more or less than his own biological daughter, Josie. They all lived close by, and all worked together.

Today with six ranches that formed the Randell Corporation, the operation was far too complicated to work without everyone doing their part. It took all six Randell brothers, along with two cousins, to run things.

Besides family, Hank’s main concern these days was to protect the mustangs that roamed the valley here. About a dozen years back he’d made sure the wild ponies would always have a home when he bought up the land to keep it from ever being developed. He wanted the serene Mustang Valley for the wild ponies, his family and the generations to come. Even after he was gone, he trusted his sons to keep that legacy.

God willing, that would be a while longer.

Hank walked toward the dusty truck as Brandon pulled up beside the barn and climbed out. The boy wasn’t dressed in his deputy’s uniform, but the standard cowboy uniform of boots, jeans and Western shirt.

“Hey, Granddad.”

“Hi, Brandon.

A grown man, Brandon didn’t hesitate to come up and embrace him in a big hug. Hank liked that.

“What brings you out here, son?”

Brandon knew he hadn’t spent much time with Hank lately. He’d been working a lot, trying to make detective. “Does your favorite grandson have to have a reason?”

“Nope. We’re just glad you came. Come in and see Ella. I bet she’s got something good cooking.”

Brandon paused. “Ella’s cooking?” It had always been a family joke that their grandmother wasn’t good in the kitchen.

Hank grinned. “Yeah. She’s been taking a class,” he assured him. “And I don’t mind sayin’ my bride is getting pretty good.”

Brandon figured it was more Hank’s love for Ella. He’d finally confessed his feelings about fifteen years ago to his one-time housekeeper. Now, he’d eat anything she put in front of him.

“If you don’t mind, could we talk first?” Brandon asked.

Hank gave a nod. “Sure. Why don’t I show you the new colt your uncle Chance brought over? We’re gonna use him in the big raffle at the rodeo next month.”

The Circle B Rodeo had gone on for years, mainly to bring neighbors together to help out with the roundup. The past few years the money from the horse raffle went to the mustang rescue program.

“You’re comin’ aren’t ya?” Hank kept a fast pace as they headed to the barn.

For his age, Hank was in good shape. He stood straight and tall, and his mud-colored Stetson covered a head of thinning white hair. His body was still trim, no extra weight around his waist. His hands might have been a little crippled from arthritis, but it didn’t stop him from working.

Brandon smiled. “Isn’t it required of all Randells to show up?”

A big grin broke out on Hank’s face. “No, just that your dad and uncles are so competitive that they would never miss it.” They came to the barn, then Brandon slid open the door and walked inside the cool structure. “And we could always use your help at the roundup. Those greenhorns that pay to come to the guest ranch seem to get themselves lost more often than a stray calf.”

Years ago, they had turned the Circle B into a working guest ranch and the roundup was the highlight of the stay.

“So you need backup?”

His grandfather nodded. “Can I include you?”

“I’m starting my new job in a few days, so I’ll have to see if I can get the time off.”

Hank grinned. “Congratulations. Your dad told me you made detective. We couldn’t be prouder of you.”

“Thanks.”

They walked down the concrete aisle. “I’m not so sure Dad’s happy about it,” Brandon said. “I think he’d rather I move back home and take over running the ranch.”

Hank pulled off his hat and scratched his head. “Well, legally the ranch does belong to you. Nice piece of land, too.” He glanced at Brandon. “But I take it your heart’s in law enforcement.”

Brandon didn’t even hesitate. “Yes, it is. It’s not that I don’t love the ranch, but I’m not into breeding cattle and training horses. Not all day, every day.”

They came to the stall in the corner where a nine-month-old chestnut colt was housed. “Hey, fella,” Brandon crooned. “How you doing?”

Hank opened the gate and they went inside. His grandfather coaxed the reddish hued animal to his side. “This is Hawk’s Flame.”

“Oh, man, he’s a beaut.” Brandon examined the chestnut with the white star on its forehead along with white socks on each leg. “How can Uncle Chance part with this guy?”

“No doubt he’s top quality horseflesh. Sired by Flying Hawk. His dam is Crimson Lady.”

Brandon should know this, trying to recall the last time he’d gone to see Uncle Chance and Aunt Joy. That only proved he hadn’t been around much. “I guess I’ve been living in town too long and not paying attention to what’s been going on.”

“I’m not judging you, Brandon. I think working in law enforcement is commendable, but don’t forget your roots, either. Talk with your dad.”

“I don’t think he wants to hear it right now.”

“Maybe if you come up with a plan. Maybe compromise some.”

Brandon nodded. That was just it—he didn’t have a plan, and now another complication. All he’d been able to think about in the past three days was Nora Donnelly. He’d called the hospital, but she hadn’t returned to work.

“I get the feelin’ there’s something else on your mind,” Hank said.

Brandon stroked the horse. “It’s a case I’ve been working on. A woman was attacked in the emergency room parking lot.”

“I read about that. How is she doing?”

“She was checked out and released that night.” He shook his head. “It’s just I have this feeling she knew her attacker.”

Hank frowned. “You mean like a husband?”

“No, she’s widowed, and she says she hasn’t dated anyone since his death, so no boyfriend. That seems strange because she’s pretty.”

“Pretty, huh?”

Brandon nodded. “Yeah. Even with all the bruises from the attack.”

“So she’s caught your eye.”

Yeah, she’d caught his eye all right. He released a long sigh. “My life just keeps getting more and more complicated.”

Hank grinned. “A pretty woman is always a complication, but the right one is so worth all the trouble.”

Four days had passed since the attack and Nora wasn’t sure what to do. There hadn’t been any more threats. No one was hanging around her apartment. No mysterious phone calls. Was the man still watching the hospital? Was he waiting for her to return to work? Had this been Jimmy’s sick way of letting her know he’d found her?

Nora walked into her bathroom and examined the fading bruises on her face, only a faint discoloration shading her jawline. A long time ago she’d learned to apply makeup like an expert, hiding her shame and humiliation. She closed her eyes and began to tremble as she recalled that night. The pain had been nothing compared to the fear that her ex-husband might have found her.

Although Jimmy couldn’t get his hands on her right now, he had people who would do it for money. She glanced around her furnished apartment. Should she take Zach and leave San Angelo? Their emergency suitcases were packed and in the car. Money and Zach’s medication were close by. Although it would be hard to change her location and identity, she was prepared to run again. Anything to stay out of Jimmy’s reach. To keep her son safe.

Although she and Zach never talked about their past life in San Diego, it didn’t mean he didn’t remember those awful years. She also knew their freedom could be snatched away at any time.

No, she couldn’t let Jimmy find them. No matter what she had to do, leave the state, color her hair, anything. He would never take Zach away from her. Nor would she go back to that life. She’d already broken the law to protect her son, and she’d do it again. That’s why she’d taken more than money from Jimmy’s wall safe. Just some added insurance to keep her and Zach out of harm’s way.

The doorbell rang and Nora jumped. She thought about not answering it, but went to look though the peephole and saw Deputy Randell standing on the other side.

Taking a relaxing breath, she opened the door to Brandon Randell. He was dressed in a white shirt, dark trousers and a black cowboy hat. His gun was strapped around his waist and he wore a badge on his breast pocket. He could pass for an old time sheriff. “Hello, Deputy Randell.”

“Mrs. Donnelly,” he said with a nod.

“I thought we’d finished with the questioning.”

“Now that I’m a detective with the department, I’ve been assigned to your case.”

Great. “Has anything new come up?”

“Maybe.” He looked past her. “May I come in?”

What could she do, but step aside? After removing his hat, the detective walked in, then stepped into the small kitchen and dropped a folder on the table.

Brandon had rushed over to Nora Donnelly’s apartment the second he’d gotten this lead. He was determined to find this guy. He glanced over her face. The makeup hid most of the bruises, but they didn’t mar her beauty, either. He motioned for her to sit down. She did and so did he.

“This morning, I went to the hospital and talked with some of the nurses in the E.R.,” he began as he opened the file. “It seems that a few days before your attack, you attended a woman who came in with multiple bruises, laceration to her face and a broken arm. All done by the work of her husband.”

Nora nodded. “Karen Carlson. She was in bad shape. We had to keep her overnight.”

Brandon looked over his notes. “A nurse, Beth Hunt, told me you sat at Karen’s bedside because she was so afraid her husband, a Pete Carlson, would come to get her.”

Her blue eyes lit up. “Have you found him?”

His heart tripped and he had to glance away to concentrate. “Not yet. But you convinced Mrs. Carlson to go into a shelter.”

Nora blinked. “You think it was her husband who attacked me?”

“He could have.” Brandon pulled a picture out of the folder. “Does this man look familiar?”

Nora studied the mug shot. “He’s burly, but I can’t say for sure.” She handed it back. “Are you going to arrest him?”

“First, we have to find him. But, yes, he has a long rap sheet. He likes to drink and fight, not caring if it’s a man or a woman.”

“But he’ll be arrested?” she asked again.

He nodded. “For his attack on his wife. I need to talk to Mrs. Carlson, first. Would you be willing to go with me?”

“Isn’t that your job, Detective?”

“Under the circumstances, I think she’ll be more willing to give me information with you there. Twice before she’s dropped the charges against the man.”

It hadn’t taken much to see that Nora Donnelly was uncomfortable. She didn’t trust easily. Was it just him, or all men? Had a man hurt her before? Her husband?

“I don’t know how I can help.”

“All I want is for you to talk with Karen.”

Those large eyes locked with his momentarily. Damn, it was hard not to react to her.

She glanced at the wall clock. “Okay, I’ll go, but I’ll need to be back before three-thirty. My son will need his medication.”

“Is he sick?”

“He’s diabetic.”

Brandon wasn’t sure how to respond to that. That had to be rough for the kid, and the mother. He stood. “Then we’ll make sure we’re back in time. Even if I have to use lights and siren.” He smiled, but she didn’t.

Nora stood and went to get a sweater and her purse, then returned to the entry. He reached for the doorknob as she did and their hands touched. She jerked back.

“Whoa, Nora,” he said softly. “I’m not going to hurt you. And I’m not going to let your attacker hurt you, either.”

Her gaze met his, but she quickly glanced away, murmuring, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Nora looked out the window of the patrol car. Brandon Randell had kept a conversation going during the twenty-minute drive. She didn’t want any small talk, or more questions she couldn’t answer. Her life could depend on not letting anyone find out her secrets.

Then Brandon turned off the highway onto a tree-lined road. About a quarter mile up they came to a wrought-iron gate. He stopped, rolled down the window and punched in a code on the keypad, then the gate swung open. He continued along the circular driveway toward a sprawling two-story brick and cedar building with black shutters on the rows of double-hung windows.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed. “This doesn’t look anything like a shelter!”

Brandon smiled. “It was planned that way.” He released his seat belt and climbed out.

Brandon Randell strolled around the car, giving her time to pull it together. The closeness in the car had made her very aware of this man; it was difficult not to be distracted by this good-looking cowboy type.

Nora chided herself for even giving the man a second thought. She opened her door and got out, allowing the cool breeze to brush against her heated face.

A huge fountain adorned with cherub angels caught her attention. The refreshing sound of rushing water had her walking toward the grassy knoll with an array of colorful flowers and shrubs. She looked down to see the plaque that read Abby’s Garden. Special thanks to Abigail Randell for her work and dedication to Hidden Haven House.”

She felt Brandon’s presence behind her. “Is she a relative?”

He nodded. “My mother. She helped design and build this place. It took her nearly twenty years to get it completed.”

The night of the attack, Nora had heard the nurses talking about the affluent ranching family that gave back to the community. The topic quickly turned to the handsome Randell men.

Nora stole a glance at Brandon. She couldn’t deny that he was good-looking, but she sure wasn’t going to do anything about it, either. She had no desire to get involved with a man again, ever.

Together they started up the walkway to the door where Brandon pressed the button on an intercom. After identifying himself into the speaker, he opened the door.

Inside, the walls of the entry area were painted a sea-foam-green, the marble floors were spotless and fresh flowers were arranged on the pedestal table in the center. They crossed the room to a large desk where an attractive, middle-aged woman smiled as she pulled off her glasses.

“Well, hello, Brandon,” she greeted and looked at his uniform. “I guess I should call you Detective Randell now.”

“Just call me when you bake those delicious oatmeal cookies of yours, Bess.”

“You come out and see us more often and I’ll see what I can do.”

Brandon nodded. “Bess this is Nora Donnelly. She’s a nurse at West Hills.”

The two women exchanged greetings.

“Is it possible for us to see Karen Carlson?” he asked.

Bess nodded. “She’s in the rec hall, but I’ll have someone bring her to the garden room so you’ll have some privacy.”

“Thanks.” Brandon placed his hand under Nora’s elbow and directed her down the hall. Instead of intimidating her, this man’s touch stirred other feelings. Feelings she didn’t want to think about right now. If ever. When they came to a door, he opened it and moved aside for her to enter first.

The room was surprisingly large and beautiful. Light blue walls, antique white furniture and plush mushroom-colored carpeting. A floral sofa rested against one wall, on the opposite was a desk in front of a row of French doors. She walked across the room for a better view of a lattice-covered patio with large plants and flowers. Beyond, was a vast green lawn.

“It’s breathtaking,” she breathed against the glass pane.

There was a knock on the door and Brandon opened it to find Karen Carlson standing on the other side. The woman looked like a frightened deer. Her clothes hung on her thin body, with her bandaged arm in a sling. Her dark blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She was only thirty-five, but looked years older.

“I was told to come here,” she said nervously.

“Hello, Mrs. Carlson. I’m Detective Brandon Randell with the sheriff’s department.” He stepped aside. “Do you remember Nurse Donnelly?”

“Hi, Karen.” Nora smiled and went to her. “I’m glad you’re doing so well.”

“Nora.” Karen came into the room and gave a hesitant smile. “You came to see me?”

“That and to talk with you,” Brandon said as he directed the women to the sofa and they sat down. He swiveled a chair around and took his seat.

Brandon exchanged a glance with Nora. “We were wondering if you’ve had any contact with your husband.”

Karen looked panicked and shook her head vigorously. “Oh, no. He’s not supposed to know I’m here. That’s the rule. This place has to stay a secret.” Her eyes grew large. “They said if I contacted Pete I’d have to take my children and leave. I have nowhere else to go. And I can’t go back to him.”

Nora wrapped her arms around the woman and held her close. “It’s okay, Karen.”

“Please, don’t let him find me,” she cried.

Brandon knelt down in front of Karen. “Pete isn’t going to find you,” he promised. “You’re safe. Your kids are safe.” He glanced at Nora. “I just need to find Pete. We thought you might know where to look for him, some places he might go.”

Karen sniffed as she pulled back and Brandon handed her a folded white handkerchief from his back pocket.

She wiped her eyes. “When Pete drinks, he goes to a place called The Dark Room.”

“The strip club on the west side, off the county road?”

She nodded. “We didn’t live too far away. Just down the road at the Wagon Wheel Mobile Home Park.”

Brandon took out his notepad. He couldn’t look at her as he recalled the shambles of the small trailer. He had no doubt Carlson had taken out more of his anger on the place. “We’ve checked out your home. There’s no sign of your husband. Does he have any other family around?”

“His brother lives in Dallas.” Karen gave him the name and address. “They don’t get along. He has a friend, Max. He lives at the trailer park also.” Karen’s gaze met Brandon’s. “The sheriff already asked me these questions.”

“Nora was attacked outside the hospital a few nights ago.”

Karen gasped, and glanced over at Nora’s face, her eyes widened as she spotted the faint bruises. “Who would do that to you?”

“We wondered if it could possibly be Pete,” Brandon said. “Maybe he knew she helped you when they brought you to the hospital.”

A tear rolled down Karen’s cheek. “This is my fault.” Her chin trembled. “If I’d just stayed…”

“No!” Nora interrupted her. “You can’t go back to a man who beat you. He could have killed you, Karen.”

“If I hadn’t made him so angry.”

Brandon touched her hand and felt her tense. He cursed to himself, but checked his own anger at the jerk who did this to her.

“You’re not to blame for this, Karen. There’s never a reason for a man to strike a woman. Ever,” he stressed. “So from this minute on you think about yourself and your kids. Haven House will help you start that new life—without a man like Pete. But first you have to believe in yourself.”

She blinked at her tears and gave him a nod. “Okay.”

He smiled. “Good. Now, we’re going to find Pete, but you have to press charges this time.” He stood, took out his wallet and pulled out two business cards. “Here’s a lawyer who’s a friend of mind, Brad Ashton. He does pro bono work for the center. He can help you. And here’s my card. If you need anything call me.”

Karen took the cards. “Thank you.” She stood. “If I remember anywhere else Pete could be, I’ll let you know.” Nora hugged her and they watched as Karen walked out.

The room grew silent as Brandon sat on the edge of the desk. So many emotions surfaced as memories of his own childhood flashed in his head. The years of fear, the fights and his mother’s muffled cries in the night. He’d been too young and couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

“Brandon?”

He jerked out of his reverie. “What?”

“Do you really think Pete was my attacker?”

“He seems to be the best lead we have. The most logical explanation.” His gaze met hers and his breath caught. “Unless you have another idea who it could have been?”

She glanced away. “No, I don’t.”

He’d bet his new promotion that she was keeping something from him. He checked his watch. “We should head back.”

Nora was more than ready to leave. She nodded and started across the room just as the door swung open and a mature woman walked in. Beautiful couldn’t describe her. Her auburn colored hair was styled in a blunt cut just below her ears. Her fair skin was as flawless as her trim figure.

Her rich green eyes softened as she looked at Brandon. “Well, I heard rumors that you were here.”

“More likely Bess tracked you down.” He embraced her and kissed the woman’s cheek. “Hello, Mom.”

“So you do remember who I am.” She stepped back from their embrace, then looked in Nora’s direction. “Hello, I’m Abby Randell.”

“Sorry, Mom. This is Nora Donnelly. She’s helping me with a case I’m working on.”

Nora put on a smile. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Randell.”

The older woman took her hand. “Please, call me Abby.”

“And I’m Nora.”

“Oh, what a lovely old-fashioned name.” She looked thoughtful. “I don’t know any Donnellys. Are you new in the area?”

She nodded. “A few months.”

“Nora is a nurse at West Hills,” Brandon answered.

Abby Randell glanced between the two of them and smiled. “You probably don’t know many people around here.”

“I know a lot of people at the hospital.”

“Maybe you and your husband would like to come out to the ranch?”

Brandon sent her a stern look. “Mother.”

“I’m a widow. It’s just me and my son, Zach.”

“I’m sorry. That has to be difficult, especially for your son. How old is he?”

“Zach is seven.”

Abby smiled. “I have an idea. It’s tradition that the family has a barbecue on Sundays while the weather is warm. There are dozens of cousins, and kids whose parents work on the ranch. This weekend we’re hosting it at our place.” She gave her son a pointed look. “Actually, it’s Brandon’s ranch.”

“It belongs to the family,” he corrected.

Abby smiled. “I bet Zach would love to spend a day on a working ranch.”

Nora was caught, knowing her son would love to have some kids to play with. “I’m sure he would.”

“Then that settles it. Brandon will bring you out this coming Sunday.” Abby Randell then turned and walked out before Nora could change her mind.

Brandon sank onto the edge of the desk. “Welcome to the world of the Randells.”