Family Ties

by Joanna Wayne

  At this moment, she didn’t know or care. She only wished the feeling could last forever. And while she was wishing, she might as well hope for world peace and for pigs to fly.

  ASHLEY STRETCHED her freshly showered body the length of the leather couch. Not that she was still tired or weak or any of the other things Mary kept insisting she had to be. But lying down and letting her mother-in-law wait on her hand and foot was far easier than fighting the determined woman’s good intentions.

  Mary stuck her head in the door for at least the tenth time in as many minutes. Usually she did no more than peek in and make sure Ashley still had her feet up and her head down. This time she walked to the couch.

  “Doc Lister’s stopping by on his way home, dear. He said it would be best if he checked you out, just to make sure you’re really all right.”

  Ashley nodded. Protests with any of the Randolphs were useless.

  “Would you like more iced tea?” Mary asked, bending to plump Ashley’s pillow. “I just made a fresh pitcher.”

  “No, thanks. I’m on the verge of floating out the door now.”

  “Well, if you need anything, you just let me know. I’ll be in the kitchen.”

  “I’m really fine, Mother Randolph. Dillon appeared almost before I had time to realize I was trapped.” A slight exaggeration, but Mary would be more nurturing than she was already if she knew how close the death call had really been.

  Mother Randolph. She’d been here almost a week and still the name felt awkward on her tongue. Surely Mary knew she was no more than an imposter posing as a trusted family member, but you’d never know it by the woman’s actions. It was as if Ashley had returned from a day of shopping in the city instead of a three-year marital separation.

  “You’re looking a lot better,” Mary added, still hovering. “But you gave me quite a scare. I rushed right down here when Dillon called. When he met me at the door, I thought surely you must be half dead. I’ve never seen him so panicky.”

  Neither had Ashley, she decided, sliding her feet to the floor and sitting up. The brief time she’d lived here as his wife, she would have given anything to have him shower her with the concern and attention he’d given this morning. Of course, he could afford a little kindness now. He knew she was leaving soon.

  “I think I will take a little of that iced tea, if it’s not too much trouble.”

  “No trouble at all.”

  Mary was back in seconds, a tall icy glass in hand.

  “I appreciate your help,” Ashley said again, “but I really am fine, and I know you have a million things to do up at the big house.”

  Mary dropped to the chair beside Ashley, her ample breasts heaving against the cotton of her shirtwaist dress. “The only thing I have to do is take care of you and Petey. Those boys of mine can fend for themselves one night. If not, they better find themselves wives. It’s past time they did, anyway.”

  Not that finding a wife had done Dillon much good. Ashley knew her mother-in-law had to be thinking something to that effect, but the reassuring smile on her lips didn’t give a hint of disappointment. She sat quietly, one of her work-worn hands fiddling with a loose string on the front of her apron, the other tucking away a sprig of honeycolored hair.

  Age and gravity were taking their toll, but Mary was still an attractive woman. In her youth, she had been a knockout, with long, silky hair that had swung to her waist. Ashley had seen photographs of her on her wedding day and later with her four boisterous boys climbing over and around her.

  Only Langley had inherited her blondness and the deep blue of her eyes. The other three sons were carbon copies of their dark and muscular father. All four were so ruggedly handsome, grown women drooled like schoolgirls when the men smiled and tipped their Stetsons.

  The perfect family. Ashley wondered if they had any idea how lucky they were. All loved, all wanted. So different from what Ashley and her brother had known. Maybe if Peter had experienced even a taste of this type of motherly love, things might have turned out differently for him.

  At least little Petey would never know what it was like not to have a mother who was there for him. She’d see to that. “Where is Petey?” she asked, suddenly realizing she hadn’t seen him for several minutes.

  “Dillon took him up to the house with him, to get a hen from the freezer. I’m going to stir up a big pot of chicken soup.”

  Homemade chicken soup. Her favorite. Ashley lay down and snuggled the pillow. She might never get such treatment again. She might as well enjoy it while it lasted.

  The room was quiet except for the whir of the ceiling fan and an occasional knocking as the air conditioner clicked on and off. Ashley closed her eyes and drifted, giving in to exhaustion. In spite of her protests to the contrary, her morning’s misadventure had taken a serious energy toll.

  “MOMMY! Want my Mommy!”

  Ashley jerked awake at the sound of Petey’s voice. Shaking her head to reduce the grogginess, she sat up just as Petey ran into the room and into flight, landing in the middle of her lap.

  “Now, Petey, I told you your mother needs to rest.” Dillon spoke with the air of a man who was used to giving orders and having them followed. He pulled Petey off Ashley.

  Petey responded with a fast kick to the shin.

  “That’s not nice, Petey. Tell your father you’re sorry.”

  Petey stared at the floor. Ashley had explained to him that Dillon was his father, but he had shown little sign of understanding or accepting.

  “Petey…”

  “Sorry.” This time he kicked the rug with his toe.

  “Apology accepted, but you’ve got to let your mother rest.”

  “I’ve had more than enough rest,” she said, pulling her son into her lap and planting a kiss on the top of his bouncing head.

  Petey cuddled for a couple of minutes, then wiggled from her lap. “Orsey! Fast orsey! Giddy up!”

  “Did you see the horsey?”

  “He did more than see it. He rode one, didn’t you, son?”

  Dillon put his hand out and motioned for Petey to come to him. Petey scooted closer to Ashley. Satisfaction mixed with pain. She was the one Petey needed and loved. A mere ride on a horse couldn’t change that. But she was also the one who had to leave.

  For a while Dillon and his family would be the only support system her son would have. She had to foster the bond between father and son even though it gave Dillon more fuel for his drive to take Petey away from her.

  “Ride orsey, Mommy!”

  “Not now, sweetie.”

  Dillon paced the floor, his hands drawn into tight fists.

  “What’s the matter, Dillon?” Mary asked, watching her son. “Is the fire out of control?”

  “No. Langley just called. The fire’s extinguished.” His voice carried a quiet thread of anger.

  “Then what’s wrong?” Ashley repeated the question.

  “Nothing I can’t take care of.”

  Of course, the great Senator Randolph. Always in charge. He didn’t need her help. He never had. She stared at him coldly.

  “I have to drive up to San Antonio this afternoon on business, Ashley. I wouldn’t go, but it’s urgent. I’ll be back sometime tomorrow, possibly even tonight, but late.”

  “You don’t have to explain your schedule to me.”

  The tension between them sparked the air, and Mary took her cue. Jumping from her chair, she hurried across the room. “Why don’t you come in here with me, Petey, and help me make your mama some soup. I bet I can even find you a chocolate chip cookie.”

  Petey slid off the couch and toddled after her.

  Dillon continued his pacing for long seconds, finally lighting in the chair opposite the sofa. “What made you choose the area around Bravo Creek for your ride today, Ashley?”

  “You told me I had full run of the ranch.”

  “You did. You don’t anymore. Now answer the question.”

  “You make it sound like I did something wrong
. I didn’t start the fire. It was just one of those freak accidents. I happened to be the one who discovered it.”

  “The fire wasn’t an accident.”

  “Don’t be absurd. Why would someone bother to go out into the middle of nowhere to burn down a dilapidated shack you admitted was worthless?”

  “Good question. A better one would be how did our arsonist lure you to that exact spot?”

  “No one lured me anywhere. I was riding Surefire. I went to Bravo Creek at Riff’s suggestion.”

  Dillon’s eyebrows drew into tight lines. “Are you sure it was Riff who suggested you ride in that direction?”

  “Yes, he talked about the new calves and the wildflowers. But I’m certain he didn’t plan for me to get caught in a burning building. I just happened to see the smoke from a distance.”

  “Someone started the fire in a pile of old rags and burlap, guaranteed to smoke big-time. They knew you would see it.”

  “Well, anyway, the smoke was heavy, but most of it was escaping out the door and ceiling. And the fire was confined to a small area. That’s the only reason I went inside.”

  “And then someone locked the door.”

  “I told you earlier, the door blew shut. Simple case of my being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “The door was so heavy I could barely open it myself. It would have taken a tornado to blow it closed. Besides, it was latched.”

  “So who do you think started the fire?”

  “We’ve had a little trouble in the northern section of the ranch lately. That’s why I was riding out that way myself this morning, just to inspect the area for signs of intrusion.” Dillon leaned closer, his dark eyes a cool mask for what lay beneath the surface. “I didn’t mean to draw you into this, Ashley.”

  “I still don’t get it, Dillon. Why would anyone at the ranch want to hurt me, or even to frighten me?”

  “To get to me.”

  Confusion settled like lead, dragging her spirits to the depths. None of this made sense. Why would anyone want to frighten…

  Lester. The thought hit her solidly in the gut.

  But that would mean he was here, on the ranch, watching every move she made. Cold fear curdled inside her, tightening and cramping, until she wanted to scream. Her logic had been faulty. Even fear of arrest hadn’t kept him away from the ranch. He was too obsessed with getting the money to play it safe.

  Still, Lester might have started the fire and even trapped her inside, but he hadn’t wanted her dead. Just near enough to death to frighten her into talking. If Dillon hadn’t frightened him off, Lester would have come into the shack just in time to save her, provided of course she told him where the stolen money was stashed. The money she’d never laid eyes on.

  He’d never give up until the money was in his hands. Or until one of them was dead. Resignation settled like bitter gall in her stomach. The ranch hadn’t provided protection before, and it couldn’t now. She knew what she had to do.

  “I won’t be here tomorrow when you get back, Dillon.”

  “You don’t have to worry, Ashley. I won’t let anything happen to you again.” He reached for her right hand, taking it between the two of his. “When I saw you this morning, lying in the smoke…” His voice lowered to a husky whisper, and he turned away. “You need rest, Ashley. I can’t let you leave the ranch just yet.”

  “You have no choice. I don’t bring anything but trouble to you and Burning Pear. I never have. You know that better than anyone.”

  “Let’s leave the past out of this.”

  “We can’t. Nothing has changed.”

  She leaned forward, and the locket at her neck slipped out from her shirt. Dillon’s gaze fastened on it, and the hardness of his jaw softened. Reaching over, he took the golden heart between his fingers. He traced the gold circlets of the chain, his fingers hot against her neck and the exposed cleavage of her breast.

  “Apparently something of the Randolph legacy has value to you. A reminder, I trust, of good times we had together.” His tone challenged her to deny it.

  She wouldn’t, not even if the tremble inside her hadn’t made it difficult for her to speak. The good times they had shared had been like fool’s gold, too wonderful and glorious to be real and too beautiful to forget.

  That had only made the bad times that much worse, taking her heart and crushing it like wildflowers beneath Surefire’s hooves.

  “I don’t need a locket to remind me what our life was like, Dillon. I remember all too well, the good and the bad. None of that changes what I have to do. I told you when I came it would be only for a few days. I’ve kept my part of the bargain.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to change your plans for me, Ashley, but at least think of Petey. You saw how he acted with me a minute ago. If you leave now, the adjustment will be too hard on him.”

  As always, Dillon used his powers of persuasion to perfection, tearing at her resolution. How could she walk away and leave Petey with strangers? He’d wake up in the night and cry for her. He’d walk through the house in the morning, searching and calling for his mommy. And, for the first time in his life, she wouldn’t be there for him.

  She struggled with facts and fears, running ideas in rapid succession. Her leaving would keep Petey safe from Lester’s cruel obsession, but it would tear at his security, the same way her mother’s leaving had torn at hers and her brother’s.

  And leaving Petey would cut the heart right out of her. Tears fought for release, stinging unmercifully at the back of her eyes.

  Dillon traced a line down her cheek, letting his finger stop on the fullness of her lips. “Don’t decide anything tonight, Ashley. No decisions, no risks, no chances. Not until after we’ve talked again.”

  “I can’t make any promises.” The words came softly, her throat suddenly dry and choking. But she had to say more. “Thanks, Dillon. If you hadn’t shown up when you did this morning I might have been history.”

  “Don’t mention it.” His voice was low and inviting, but he didn’t wait for a response. Sliding his hat over his dark hair, he turned and walked out the door.

  Ashley watched him go, wishing for the millionth time in three years that things could be different between them. Shrugging, she pushed her feet into her shoes. Wishes and a dollar would buy a cup of coffee. Action was what she needed now. She just had to make sure it was the right action.

  DILLON THREW an extra shirt and tie into his travel bag. He’d been away from his campaign headquarters for four days, and his aides were bellowing for his return. The senate race was heating up, and it was about to be supplied with a new source of fuel.

  Maybe he should give up politics. Just walk away and run the ranch. No matter what he did for the state, it was never enough to keep the critics off his back. Not that he’d give a damn if it was his politics they were criticizing, but it was his honor as a man and even the honor of his family, for God’s sake. Nothing was sacred to these newshounds.

  Dillon knew well enough what some people thought about his father. People like Potter Bingley who loved to whine and blame his bad fate on somebody else. But no one had ever proved his father hadn’t been honest in his dealings. And no matter what the account records seemed to show, Dillon had not taken any money that he wasn’t entitled to, either. So let the media players yell foul until their own cows came home.

  He wasn’t in politics for the news media, anyway. He was in it for the citizens. Honest citizens who worked hard and paid their taxes when they could find work.

  Get a hold, old boy. You’re starting to sound like one of your speeches. An honest politician who believed his own hype. No wonder so many members of the media had their doubts. Any other time, he might even enjoy the thrill of a tough campaign.

  But this year, the timing was all off. Right now he needed to be at the ranch with Petey, and with Ashley.

  Ashley. He’d been so sure he’d finally put her out of his mind once and for all. All that had changed the minute she
’d opened the door of her apartment in Destin, Florida.

  But even that had not prepared him for the emotions he’d experienced this morning. Finding her lying on the ground, lost in the dark cloud of smoke. For a second he’d thought she might be dead. And in that second, he’d buckled beneath pain like he’d never known before.

  Shoving his hand into his back pocket, he pulled out the neatly folded handkerchief he’d just put there and wiped beads of cold sweat from his forehead. Damn. It was hours later, and he was falling apart just thinking about how close he’d come to losing her forever.

  He’d give anything not to have to leave her tonight. But at least he knew she’d be safe. Someone would be watching her every minute. And when he found out who had pulled that fool stunt this morning, there would be hell to pay.

  And he would find out.

  He slipped a suit into the hanging bag. He was being stretched thin, pulled in too many directions at once. But somewhere in the muddle of Ashley, arson, threatening notes and rumors, there had to be answers.

  He had no room in his life for unsolvable problems. After all, he was a father now. Petey, the son he’d found out about by a quirk of fate, a chance snapshot on the beach. Which brought him to the scenario that bothered him most of all.

  The night he’d found Ashley, she’d been attacked by someone she obviously knew. She was leading a life of danger, and if something had happened to her, Petey would have been left all alone in the world. Did Ashley really hate him so much she would have chosen that for her son rather than let Petey know his father?

  The thought still clawed at his gut as he started the drive into San Antonio.

  LESTER GRANT stamped a booted foot on the hairy tarantula, squashing it into the hard dirt. This stupid shack crawled with multilegged creatures, all of them big enough to tangle with the wood rats that darted around the edges of the decaying boards.

  If those stupid cops hadn’t shown up the other night, he’d be in the Cayman Islands by now, counting his money, some sweet bikini-clad fox draped over his arm. Instead he was stuck in the middle of nowhere, living on greasy scraps from the bunkhouse with nothing for entertainment but the wail of hungry coyotes.