The No. 1 Sheriff in Texas

by Patricia Thayer

  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, th
en 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.”
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  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.”