by Joanna Wayne
“They’ll never connect me to this. It’s the carjacker’s friends who tracked you down. What a shame.”
“You hired that thug to carjack me, didn’t you? You were behind everything. I should have known.”
She struggled to her feet. Scott shoved her against the wall and pushed his body against hers, holding her hands over her head so that she couldn’t break away.
“It’s called genius, my sweet. Hiring a thug already known by the cops to kidnap and kill you. But it’s much better this way. Now his friends will get the blame but I’ll get the pleasure of seeing you perform one last time before you die, sweet Melinda.”
He put his lips on hers. She bit down hard on his bottom lip.
He bit back and she cried out in pain. Fighting him was useless. His strength was overpowering.
“Such a spitfire,” Scott said, his voice gritty with fury. “I loved that about you. I loved everything about you, Melinda, but you ruined it all.”
“Where’s Tague?” she demanded again. “Have you hurt him?”
“Yes, he’s most definitely hurt. But I do hope he’s not dead. I’d so hate for him to miss the show. Now we
really should get started.”
Alexis shuddered. This wasn’t a fit of rage. This time Scott was as cold and as calculating as he’d ever been when directing a movie. Maybe he’d always balanced precariously on the edge between genius and madness.
If she didn’t do something fast, he’d kill her. For all she knew Tague might already be dead. The possibility was like a knife in her heart.
Scott took a step toward her. She plunged at him with the jagged fragment of glass. He caught her arm and spun her around, twisting both arms around her back and forcing her to the floor.
“Get in here, Bronco. We don’t have all night. The show must go on.”
Bronco stepped into the hallway behind Scott. Blood dripped from his chin and the front of his shirt. But not his blood. There wasn’t a scratch on him. The blood had to be Tague’s. She gagged on the bile that gurgled into her throat.
“Is our audience ready?”
Bronco nodded, but didn’t speak.
“Then carry the lovely Melinda Ryan to wardrobe.”
Bronco threw her over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes. When she tried to kick free, he squeezed so tight that she was afraid he’d cracked a lung. Pain ripped through her and she struggled to breathe.
Bronco sat her down in a chair opposite the sofa. Tague was propped up against two large throw pillows in a chair nearest the door, but his eyes were closed and he wasn’t moving. Blood soaked his shirt.
“Put this on, Melinda. And make it quick. If you dawdle, I’ll put it on you, and you know how wicked my hands can be.”
It was the same black negligee she’d worn at her call-back audition for him, or at least one very similar.
“Do you remember your lines, Melinda? A good actress always remembers her lines.”
Weirdly, she did remember them. Her voice shook as she started to recite them. She had to buy time and find a way to escape. She had to save Tague. She had to get Tommy away from the madman before they all ended up dead.
“The lines, Melinda. Say them or I have Bronco hit Tague again.”
Her voice quaked as she began reciting. “‘I know you’re in here. I know you’re watching me. I can’t see you, but I hear your breathing.’”
“You’re doing much, much better this time, Alexis. I actually see and hear your fear. Keep going. Convince me you can do it.”
“‘Why are you stalking me? Is it because I’m blind? Is it that you’re so disgustingly ugly that no other woman will let you near her?’”
“Keep going. The last few lines are the best.”
Tague’s head moved ever so slightly. Ridiculous hope swelled in Alexis’s chest and helped clear her muddled mind. She had to find a way to subdue Scott and his goon. She had to save both her and Tague.
“Keep going, Melinda.”
Yes, she had to keep going. If Tague regained consciousness they might have a chance. A small chance against a madman and a giant. But she was clutching for any straw of hope now.
Scott would never get custody of Tommy after this. She would. She’d see the boy she loved so much grow up. And she’d tell Tague that she loved him. He’d been right all along. Scott would have never given up until she was dead. He had too much riding on her not being able to prove she didn’t kill Lena.
Only she couldn’t die. Not now.
“I’ve forgotten my lines,” she said, stalling for time. “If I can have a glass of water, I might be able to remember them.”
“Get her some water, Bronco. My wife is auditioning for the role of her life. She has to show me the fear. Lots of fear. Show me what you look like when you know you’re going to die.”
Bronco got off the sofa and went for the glass of water.
One of Tague’s eyes slit open. He moved his hand slowly, sliding it into his pocket.
She sipped the water and then went back to the lines.
“‘Please go away. Just turn and leave before you do something you’ll regret. Let me live. Please, let me live.’”
“You’re losing the emotion again, Melinda. Too much thinking. Not enough feeling.”
Tague was slowly gaining consciousness. She saw it in his eyes and in the steadier movement in his body. Slight movements so that Bronco and Scott didn’t pick up on them from their seats angled toward her and away from him.
“‘Have you never loved a woman? If you have, how can you do this to me?’”
“Is that the best you can do, Melinda? Get my bat, Bronco. Ineptness deserves punishment.” He grabbed Melinda’s arm and slung her to the floor.
Tague jumped to his feet, his movements so jerky Alexis thought he might fall. That’s when she glimpsed the pistol tucked in the palm of his hand.
She saw the bat coming at her from high above her head. It was in Bronco’s hand.
She cringed as the bat swung and the gun went off.
Bronco crumbled and fell to the floor.
Scott grabbed the bloody bat and came at her. Fury burned in his eyes. The gun fired again. This time she crumbled to the floor with Scott.
A second later she was wrapped in Tague’s safe, strong arms.
“I love you, Alexis. I love you so much. I don’t ever want to let you go.”
“I love you, too. When I thought you might be dead…”
He silenced her with a kiss. “I couldn’t die and leave you to that perverted bastard.”
Pain still wracked her body as she turned first to Bronco and then to Scott. “Are you sure they’re dead? I don’t want one of those horror story endings where they spring back to life.”
“They both took a bullet to the front of the brain. They’re dead. But eventually one of us has to let go and call 911.”
“Just promise me that this movie has a happy ending,” Alexis said. “That means you have to love Tommy, too. Are you ready to be a father?”
“I am, but not in Hollywood. How do you feel about Texas and being a rancher’s wife?”
“As long as the rancher is you. Now are you ready for my good news?”
“That we’re alive?”
“That Scott had filed for a divorce months ago. It became final yesterday.”
“In that case, my forever is going to start right now.”
And this time when his lips touched hers, the promise of a lifetime of love was in his kiss. She’d finally found the place where she belonged.
It was in Tague’s arms.
Epilogue
Two months later
Carolina stepped out of the bright sunshine and through the shadowed doorway of the small chapel wher
e she and Hugh had gotten married so many years ago. Birds had been singing in the trees that day just as they were now.
The sun had struck the stained glass windows at an angle that had made the exquisite paintings of the life of Christ come alive. The windows were the biggest change that had been made to the chapel since Hugh’s great-grandfather had built it for his own wedding. The chapel, like the ranch, represented continuity and family and love.
Hopefully there would soon be another wedding in the chapel—but only if charges of murder were dropped against Alexis. She hadn’t killed Lena Fox. She couldn’t have. The only crime she was guilty of was loving Tommy. The Los Angeles police would have to see that.
So far, they hadn’t. And they hadn’t taken Alexis’s word for the fact that Scott had admitted the crime. His fame had turned his death into a Hollywood circus and people were clamoring for Alexis to shoulder some of the blame.
If Hugh were here, he’d know what to say to ease the trepidation that had all of the Lamberts living in dread. But he wasn’t here and he’d never be here again.
Carolina’s thoughts went back to the horrible, rainy night when the small plane he’d been in had crashed in a West Texas thunderstorm. When she’d gotten the news that he was dead, she’d wanted to die, too. She’d wanted it so badly, she’d prayed for it. Thankfully, God didn’t answer all prayers with a yes.
Though the pain of losing him was still almost unbearable at times, she was thankful for every day she had with her wonderful family.
Damien, Durk and Tague. All three of her sons were so very different, and yet they all had inherited Hugh’s love for the land and his abiding faith in his fellow man. They, like her memories, were the part of Hugh that made every day a blessing.
Damien and Tague had both put their lives on the line for the women they loved. Hugh would have cautioned them about the risks they were taking, but he’d have been so very proud of them. And he’d have loved Emma, Alexis, precious Belle and adorable, precocious Tommy as she did.
If the murder charges against Alexis were dropped, Tommy would stay in the family. Lena’s written wishes would be honored. As official stepmother, Alexis would be granted full legal guardianship.
And Carolina had to admit, she was glad the depraved Scott Jeffery Hayden was not Tommy’s biological father. Though from what she knew of Lena Fox, it amazed her that she’d had the courage to go behind his back and purchase sperm while hiding the doctor’s report from him that declared he was sterile.
But no matter whom his biological father had been, Tommy would be cherished and loved by all the Lamberts, especially by Alexis, always his mother in her heart.
Belle’s mother was dead, as well, and her father’s identity was still unknown. It would break all their hearts when the time came for them to give her up. For now, all they could do was shower her with love and treasure every moment they had with her. Emma and Damien were such loving parents.
Now if only Durk could find the woman he was meant to love for the rest of his life.
Carolina stepped back into the glaring sunlight and then took the short walk to the family cemetery where she’d laid Hugh to rest. She’d never looked into the casket, couldn’t bear to see the mangled remains of her handsome, marvelous Hugh after the plane crash.
She knew he’d gone to meet his maker, yet she still took comfort from the grave site. She pulled the flower from her hair as she approached. Then she knelt and placed the white blossom on the grave.
“You’d be so proud of your sons, Hugh. And you’d love Emma and Alexis and delight in Belle and Tommy. I love you, Hugh. And I miss you very much.”
Tears moistened her eyes as she stood and looked back at the chapel. If there was a wedding between Tague and Alexis, it would hopefully be a small family affair in the chapel.
But if she had her way, the wedding reception would be the grandest event the little community of Oak Grove or possibly even Dallas had ever seen.
The Lamberts needed a celebration of love.
* * *
TOMMY SQUEALED IN glee as Tague gave him a gentle push in the old tire swing his father had hung for him and his brothers when Tague was no bigger than Tommy. He didn’t remember the event, but he’d heard about it—many times.
Damien had wanted a fancy swing set with a fort like his friends had. Their father had said no way. So he’d hung the tire and helped them build a tree-house fort. That, along with the rope for swinging into the swimming hole, had kept all three of them occupied for years. His dad had been a smart man.
Not that Tague wasn’t likely to buy Tommy a swing set any day now. Times had changed. But…
“One day we’ll build a fort together, Tommy. And go fishing and swimming and climb trees and play catch and…”
“My, don’t you sound all fatherly today,” Alexis interrupted, as she walked up to join them.
“The idea of fatherhood is growing on me.”
She sat down cross-legged in a patch of clover. “But you definitely had reservations about marriage and fatherhood when we met.”
“Sometimes a guy doesn’t know what he wants until he finds it.”
Tague slowed the swing and Tommy jumped off to go chasing after a butterfly. Tague went over and sat in the grass next to Alexis. She laid a hand on his thigh and he marveled at how her touch could still set him on fire.
But his love for her went so much deeper than the physical attraction. It was difficult to believe she could have endured all she’d been through and not have lost her zest for life or her capacity to love.
“I had a call from Detective Hampton just before I joined you and Tommy.”
“Good news, I hope.”
“Lena’s death has officially been ruled a murder.”
Apprehension settled like acid in his stomach. “Surely you’re not suspected of killing her?”
“No. The evidence against Scott is solid enough that her murder has been attributed to him. I’m officially cleared of all charges.”
He put an arm around her shoulder. “That’s terrific news.”
“It is, but it’s difficult to believe that a man who had the world at his feet couldn’t be happy with that. He had to keep pushing for more. To be considered a genius. To have a perfect son.”
“And then he couldn’t love that perfect son once he found out he wasn’t Tommy’s biological father,” Tague said.
“And he felt compelled to kill the woman he’d chosen for the perfect mother as payback for tricking him into believing that Tommy was his son.”
“And so that he could marry you,” Tague reminded her.
“I was so caught up in my devotion and concern for Tommy that I fell into Scott’s trap. It’s a miracle that either Tommy or I escaped the madness. We wouldn’t have had it not been for you, Tague.”
“I only helped in the end, Alexis. You took Tommy and went on the run. You did what you had to do to keep him safe.”
“But what makes a man who has everything keep pushing and pushing until he goes mad?”
“No one can answer that question, but in Scott’s case I’m sure his childhood, drugs and his hunger for power played into it.”
“I guess I just have to accept that there are people like Scott Jeffery Hayden in the world. But the real marvel is that there are men like you in the world, too, Tague.”
“I’m just a cowboy who happens to be crazy in love with you and can’t wait to take you for my wife.”
“
And I love you more than I ever thought I could love anyone. So let’s not wait any longer, Tague.”
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. The thrill went clear down to his toes. “Today works for me. I have a justice of the peace on speed dial.”
“Liar. But I want a wedding in the family chapel like all the Lambert brides before me. I want it all, Tague. You, life on the ranch, the big, boisterous family.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.” She jumped up, took his hand and tugged him to his feet. “C’mon, cowboy, let’s go tell your mom that she’s about to get a new grandson.”
“Yee-haw,” Tommy called from the top of a rock he’d just climbed.
Tague couldn’t have said it better himself.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt of Wrangled by B.J. Daniels!
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Chapter One
The knock at the door surprised Zane Chisholm. He’d just spent the warm summer day in the saddle rounding up cattle. All he wanted to do was kick off his boots and hit the hay early. The last thing he wanted was company.
But whoever was knocking didn’t sound as if they were planning to go away anytime soon. Living at the end of a dirt road, he didn’t get uninvited company—other than one of his five brothers. So that narrows it down, he thought as he went to the window and peered out through the curtains.