It was up to him to protect and help Corinna Pike.
Tucking her small frame against his side, he led her away from the scene of the crime.
She’d been a gawky kid with a mouth full of braces and an attitude of superiority that had grated on Ben when he’d first met her. He’d watched her transform into a Texas Rose—beautiful, poised aloof and way off-limits.
At least, for a guy like him.
Now Corinna was an orphan. Something they had in common. Ben gathered Corinna’s hands in his. He’d walk through this with her every step of the way. But first he had to know what had happened.
TEXAS RANGER JUSTICE:
Keeping the Lone Star State safe.
Daughter of Texas—Terri Reed, January 2011
Body of Evidence—Lenora Worth, February 2011
Face of Danger—Valerie Hansen, March 2011
Trail of Lies—Margaret Daley, April 2011
Threat of Exposure—Lynette Eason, May 2011
Out of Time—Shirlee McCoy, June 2011
At an early age Terri Reed discovered the wonderful world of fiction and declared she would one day write a book. Now she is fulfilling that dream and enjoys writing for Steeple Hill. Her second book, A Sheltering Love, was a 2006 RITA ®Award Finalist and a 2005 National Readers’ Choice Award Finalist. Her book Strictly Confidential, book five of the Faith at the Crossroads continuity series, took third place in the 2007 American Christian Fiction Writers Book of the Year Award, and Her Christmas Protector took third place in 2008. She is an active member of both Romance Writers of America and American Christian Fiction Writers. She resides in the Pacific Northwest with her college-sweetheart husband, two wonderful children and an array of critters. When not writing, she enjoys spending time with her family and friends, gardening and playing with her dogs.
You can write to Terri at P.O. Box 19555, Portland, OR 97280. Visit her on the web at www.loveinspiredauthors.com, leave comments on her blog at www.ladiesofsuspense.blogspot.com or email her at terrireed@sterling.net.
DAUGHTER OF TEXAS
TERRI REED
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Delight yourself in the Lord, and He shall give you the desires of your heart.
—Psalms 37:4
Writing is never done in a vacuum. Thank you to my fellow Texas Ranger Justice authors: Lenora, Valerie, Margaret, Lynette and Shirlee. You made writing this book fun.
Thank you to Emily Rodmell and the staff at Steeple Hill Books for coming up with such an exciting series. And as always, Leah Vale, Lissa Manley, Melissa McClone and Ruth Kaufman—I am forever grateful.
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
LETTER TO READER
QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION
The Ranger creed: “No man in the wrong can stand up against a fellow that’s in the right and keeps on a-comin’.”
Corinna Pike froze on the unlit front porch of her family’s ranch home. Gunfire had come from within the house!
Her startled gaze shot to her father’s Crown Victoria parked in the driveway. Her father, the only person she had left in the world, was inside the house.
Terror crashed through her like a runaway freight train.
She exploded into motion, but the front door was locked. She dropped her dance bag, fumbled with her house key, jammed it in the lock and pushed the door open so hard it bounced back from the wall.
“Dad!” she yelled at the top of her lungs.
A chill of dread that had nothing to do with the drop in the late September evening temperature skated across her flesh.
Corinna raced through the darkened hallway of the sprawling, single-story house toward the crack of light coming from beneath her father’s study door. As the daughter of a Texas Ranger, running to gunfire was in her blood.
She skidded to a halt and reached for the study’s doorknob and flung open the door. The light in the study winked out, throwing the world around her into pitch blackness. A loud feline screech, followed by eighteen pounds of fleeing cat slamming into her legs, made Corinna lurch back.
Before she could even think of shouting out in surprise at her deranged tabby, an explosion of noise erupted. A bright flash of light scalded her eyes. Her ears rang. Something hot sliced across her bare biceps. Searing pain brought tears to her eyes. She’d been shot!
She instinctively dropped to the floor, her hands covering her head. No more bullets came her way. Instead, she heard the patio doors fly open and the sound of running feet leaving the scene.
Around her, the house settled into a stark silence where only the rasp of her own breathing echoed in her ears. The acrid smell of gunpowder permeating the air almost obliterated the coppery scent of blood assaulting her senses.
The moon’s light spilled into the study through the open patio doors outlining the desk. Staying low, she edged along the wall toward it. Using the desk as cover, she reached for the lamp with her right hand and winced with pain at the effort to raise her injured arm. Switching to her uninjured arm, she flipped the control knob. Soft light made her blink as she adjusted to the brightness. Cautiously, she peered out into the room.
She didn’t see anyone ready to take another shot at her, but the sight before her was even more horrifying.
Her gaze landed on her father sprawled across the thick wool rug in front of his cherrywood desk. Everything inside her recoiled. Her mind tried to process what she saw, her feet felt rooted in place.
Her father’s service weapon lay beside him. Blood oozed from a gunshot wound in his chest just below the Texas Ranger badge pinned to his plaid flannel shirt, soaking the beige carpet beneath him a deep crimson red.
Her wild gaze swept the room again looking for a threat and landed on an unfamiliar man’s prone body. He had a similar wound in his abdomen. The man, mid-thirties and looking very much out of place with his dirty clothes and matted dark hair, lay very still.
She didn’t see a weapon in his hand.
Crying out in anguish, Corinna crawled as best she could with one arm to her father’s side. “Please, don’t let him be dead.”
A high keening noise filled the room. Vaguely aware the sound came from her, she reached a shaky hand to his neck and pressed her fingers to the spot where a pulse should beat. Nothing.
Agony trapped her breath in her lungs. She fell forward, her head coming to rest on her father’s broad shoulder. First her mother, now her father. The two people she loved most in the world both taken from her. Her mother by sickness, her father…murdered.
How could God let this happen?
Forcing herself to move, to assess the situation, she asked herself, What would her father do?
She scrambled over to the other man and checked for a pulse. Beneath her fingers she felt the faint beat of his heart.
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