Family Ties
Author
Joanna Wayne
Reads
15.6K
Chapters
18
Prologue
Music from the antique organ drifted up the curved staircase, and Ashley Jackson struggled to match her erratic heartbeat to the soothing tune. She stood still, barely daring to breathe, determined to commit each sight and sound to memory. Everything about this day was like a beautiful dream.
And dreams, at least the good ones, had never had a lot of staying power in her life. One wrong move and she’d wake up or drift into the nightmare that always found her no matter how fast or how far she ran.
Mother Randolph stepped beside her, a rosy ball of cherry pink satin highlighted by a topknot of honey-colored hair just starting to gray. “Are you ready?” she asked, giving a last smoothing touch to her coif.
“More than ready.” Ashley ran trembling fingers across the lacy satin of her wedding gown, but her gaze remained glued to the polished wood floor.
“Good. A house full of sons, and now I’m finally getting a daughter. I just wish my husband was still alive to share the moment.” She squeezed Ashley’s hand. “You’ll be good for Dillon. He needs someone sweet and loving like you to soften his edges and make him slow down.”
“I’m not sure I can do that.”
“You can if anyone can.” She brushed Ashley’s right cheek with her lips as her third-born son walked into the guest bedroom.
“You two can shape up Dillon later,” Langley said, taking his mother’s arm to guide her down the steps of the rambling ranch house. “After we officially make Ashley a member of the Randolph clan.”
Ashley waited at the top of the steps with Ryder, the youngest brother, the one assigned to escort her down the aisle. All the brothers were in the wedding party. It was the Randolph way, even though Ashley was sure Branson was standing in as Dillon’s best man under protest.
He was the only Randolph who had not welcomed her with open arms. “Fell off the horse and won’t climb back on,” Dillon had told her, referring to Branson’s experiences with a woman instead of an actual horse. “Suspicious as they come, but you’ll win him over in no time,” Dillon had predicted. So far his predictions had failed to reach fruition.
Ryder tugged on his black tails. It occurred to her it was the first time she’d ever seen him out of his jeans or his impressive silver belt buckle.
“You’ll be good for Dillon, all right.” He echoed his mother’s sentiments as he reached down to rub a smeared spot off his black boots. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to my big brother. Not that he deserves it.”
Ryder stepped to her side, patting Ashley’s hand before wrapping it around his arm. “And I plan to make sure he’s just as good for you. If not, he’ll answer to me.”
“How would he do that? You’re always off on the rodeo circuit, from what I hear.”
“Not always. Heck, I’m home a month or two every year. Most years, anyway.”
Ashley squeezed his arm and waited for her signal to begin the walk to the altar. She had to be the luckiest woman in the whole world. In a few minutes she’d become Mrs. Dillon Randolph, and in the bargain she was gaining a terrific family.
Love and a family, a package deal. Before she picked up her bouquet of fresh wildflowers, her fingers found their way to the gold locket that dangled from her neck. It had been Dillon’s grandmother’s. A family heirloom around the neck of the poor foster kid from Longview. She’d come a long way.
The music stopped, and Ashley’s heart plummeted to her stomach. Something must be wrong. But seconds later the organist began the first strains of the wedding march. Ashley swayed against Ryder, her head spinning.
“It’s not too late to back out,” he teased. “Just say the word, and I’ll trade places with Dillon, and you can marry the best Randolph.”
“No, I’d never back out.” Trembling, she smiled at Ryder, but he didn’t smile back. His dark eyes were shadowed.
“Are you sure everything’s all right? You do love Dillon, don’t you?”
“More than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life. More than I thought possible.” Her heart strained to near bursting.
“Then let’s get this horse out of the corral.” Once again a smile lit his face, and he stepped forward, pulling her along. She followed, satin rustling as her legs brushed against the yards of snow white fabric.
Halfway down the steps, she caught sight of her groom. Dillon was waiting for her, so handsome in his dark tuxedo it almost hurt to look at him. She’d loved him the minute she’d laid eyes on the man as he rushed around the state capitol, power and purpose exuding from him like starlight in the Texas sky.
Oh, she’d heard the rumors about him, that he was headstrong and ruthless, that he’d run over anyone who stepped in his way. But as soon as she met Dillon, she knew the stories were gross exaggerations. He was exciting, yet tender and loving and he’d swept her off her feet with one heart-stopping kiss.
She all but skipped down the last step to stand beside him. His smile caressed her, and her insides melted. The world was right. How could anything go wrong as long as he loved her?
Fortunately, the service was short, as Ashley only half listened, somehow managing to say I do at the right time. Finally, the preacher reached “You may kiss the bride.” Dillon nudged her face upward with a gentle touch of his thumb beneath her chin. “About time,” he mouthed, as he lowered his lips to hers.
“And now I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Dillon Randolph.” The preacher’s voice echoed around them as the couple turned to face a houseful of applauding guests.
Mrs. Dillon Randolph. It was really true. Now she could finally let her past sleep in peace. The threat she’d received was powerless. No one could hurt Dillon Randolph. He’d told her so himself. And now no one could hurt her. Her new life had begun.
The music started again, a lively version of “The Yellow Rose of Texas,” and Dillon wrapped an arm about her waist, whisking her past a stream of well-wishers and out the front door. The reception was already set up, right here on Burning Pear, the Randolph ranch that had been in the family for generations.
Dillon would never have considered having it anywhere else. His roots to the place ran so deep, Ashley sometimes suspected they reached nearly to China.
The late afternoon sun shone on long tables covered with white cloths and tons of food. Real food, as Dillon called it. Texas style. Barbecue that had turned on the spit since yesterday, and huge bowls of potato salad, baked beans and corn on the cob. None of that sissy wedding food people in other states ate.
“Congratulations, Senator. Just like we suspected. You wound up with the prettiest girl in the state.”
“Thank you, Bill. And I agree with you.”
Ashley smiled as family and friends surrounded them, shaking Dillon’s hand and clapping him on the back, hugging her. Voices, laughter, tinkling glasses and the crack of an escaped balloon that struck the limb of a mesquite tree and burst. And happiness everywhere. Everything a wedding should have.
Dillon stuck a glass of champagne into her hand. “I’ve got to go talk to one of the guests,” he whispered, kissing her ear. “One minute of business, and then I’m all yours.”
Anticipation danced up her spine. She already knew exactly what that meant.
“Do I get to kiss the bride?” Langley said, appearing from nowhere to take Dillon’s place as escort.
“Indeed you do.” She turned a cheek for his brotherly peck. Another balloon burst, louder this time, the noise cracking through the din of voices.
“Oh, no! Oh, my God, no!”
Ashley jerked around as cries silenced the laughter. Panic surged inside her, and she stared in disbelief. Dillon was on the ground a few yards away. He wasn’t moving. Only the blood was moving, spreading around him in a lake of crimson.
This wasn’t happening. She’d open her eyes and see it wasn’t real.
But opening her eyes didn’t change a thing. Just like marrying Dillon hadn’t. She’d been a fool to think there was a way out. She’d been warned. She hadn’t listened, and this was the price she had to pay.
Gasping, she lunged forward as her knees buckled, hurling her into the familiar pits of hell.
