“You really don’t want to get involved with this, Bart Collingsworth. You really don’t want to get involved with me.”
He touched her arm. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”
Jaclyn didn’t answer, but when he took her hand in his, she let him lead her back to the porch. “Tell me one good reason I should trust you.”
Bart smiled. “Because from the looks of things, you don’t have anyone else to go to for help and I’m offering.”
“You’re making a big mistake, cowboy. A monumental mistake.”
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Bart Collingsworth – Convinced Jaclyn is in trouble, he feels compelled to help her and must fight the almost overwhelming attraction he feels from the moment they meet.
Jaclyn McGregor – Though wary, she is forced to accept Bart Collingsworth’s help in finding her friend, who has disappeared without a trace.
Lenora Collingsworth – The strong but loving matriarch of the Collingsworth clan.
Langston, Matt and Zach Collingsworth – Bart’s brothers.
Jaime Collingsworth and Becky Ridgely – Bart’s sisters, both of whom live at Jack’s Bluff Ranch.
Margo Kite – Jaclyn’s friend who has disappeared from New Orleans.
Ed Guerra – Local Texas sheriff.
Senator Patrick Hebert – Louisiana politician believed to have been having an affair with Margo Kite before her disappearance.
Candy Hebert – The senator’s wife.
Win Bronson – Senator Hebert’s right-hand man.
Rene Clark – Foreman at Paradise Pleasures, a small Texas ranch owned by the senator and some of his friends.
Clay Markham – Private investigator hired by Bart Collingsworth.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Joanna Wayne was born and raised in Shreveport, Louisiana, and received her undergraduate and graduate degrees from LSU-Shreveport. She moved to New Orleans in 1984, and it was there that she attended her first writing class and joined her first professional writing organisation. Her first novel, Deep in the Bayou, was published in 1994.
Now, dozens of published books later, Joanna has made a name for herself as being on the cutting edge of romantic suspense in both series and single-title novels. She has been on the Waldenbooks Bestselling List for romance and has won many industry awards. She is a popular speaker at writing organisations and local community functions and has taught creative writing at the University of New Orleans Metropolitan College.
She currently resides in a small community forty miles north of Houston, Texas, with her husband. Though she still has many family and emotional ties to Louisiana, she loves living in the Lone Star state. You may write to Joanna at: PO Box 265, Montgomery, TX 77356, USA.
Texas Gun Smoke
JOANNA WAYNE
Thanks to all the readers out there who love a
good romance and keep buying my books. A
special thanks goes to Ruth Foreman, a reader
who has been with me since my very first book.
Though we’ve never met in person, we have
become good friends via e-mail. She is a
constant source of inspiration, an optimistic,
cheerful person dedicated to her faith and
family. Even losing her home to the devastating
floods of Katrina couldn’t destroy her loving
spirit. She’s the kind of fan that makes
writing a real joy.
Chapter One
A light rain started to fall, making the road that wound its way to Jack’s Bluff Ranch dangerously slick. Not a safe night out for man nor beast. Most days Bart fell into the former category. He slowed his pickup truck and turned up the volume on his radio, singing along with George Strait, though one of them was a bit off-key.
Bart stretched, then shed the necktie he’d loosened much earlier. He hadn’t wanted to drive into Houston tonight, especially in this monkey suit. But his mother had refused to take no for an answer. Not that he didn’t agree with her that philanthropy was important or that her work in spearheading the drive to raise funding for the new children’s wing at the hospital was a worthy task; but sipping champagne and making small talk with a gaggle of rich socialites wasn’t his scene.
It still amazed him that his mother could waltz from ranch life at Jack’s Bluff to Houston society functions so effortlessly. The only dance Bart knew was the two-step, and that was the way he liked it.
His mom had opted to stay in town and spend the night with his brother Langston and his new family, leaving Bart to make the hour-plus drive home alone. Normally he wouldn’t have minded, but tonight he could have used the company just to stay awake and alert. It had been a long day. Ranching was not a nine-to-five job.
He caught sight of a pair of bucks at the edge of the road in front of him. He slowed even more. You never knew when a deer would take a notion to run right in front of you. He’d totaled a pickup like that last year. Worse part was it had killed the doe.
The rain picked up. He turned on the defroster to clear the windshield. The visibility improved only slightly, but he’d be home in less than ten minutes.
He tried to stifle a yawn, then jerked to attention. What the hell? Two cars were speeding toward him, driving so close they were all but swapping paint.
A second later he saw sparks fly as the outside car sideswiped the other and sent it rocking and bouncing along the shoulder before the driver managed to get all four wheels back on the highway. If this was some teenage game of chicken, they were taking things way too far. Somebody was likely to get killed. Maybe him.
He slowed and took the shoulder as the cars collided again. This time the smaller one went flying off the road. It slid down an incline and then rolled over, coming to a rocking upside-down stop a few yards ahead of Bart. The lunatic driving the attacking car sped past him.
Bart screeched to a stop, grabbed a flashlight and jumped from his truck. He took off running toward the wrecked car. Its wheels were still spinning when he got to it.
He aimed a beam of illumination inside the car. There was only one occupant—a woman who was draped over the steering wheel, upside down but still held in place by her seat belt. Blood trickled across her left temple and matted in her blond hair. She lifted her head, shaded her eyes from the light and shrank away from him.
The door was jammed, and he had to work with it for a few seconds to pry it open. “Are you okay?”
She didn’t answer, but her face was a pasty white and her eyes were wide with fear.
“Take it easy. You’re safe now.”
“You tried to kill me.”
“Not me, but someone did.” He leaned in closer so that he could see the head wound. The