Desert Heat (19 page)

“I didn’t see anything mentioned in the journal, but Addie only rodeoed for a couple of years.”

“Well, if Lucky really was murdered, I hope the bastard got what he deserved.”

“So do I,” Patience said. But she wondered if he ever really did.

It was the last day of the Cheyenne rodeo and the exhausted cowboys all looked forward to the end of a long, grueling week. They were tired and battered, a number of them, like Dallas, sporting injuries they had picked up in the tough competition.

During that final performance, Stormy took a second in the calf roping, adding to the money he had won earlier in the week, but he’d pulled a muscle in his roping arm and he was taking Advils by the handful. In the saddle bronc riding, Dallas drew a horse named Snowball who was a straightaway bucker, making the ride look pretty good. But the judges were savvy and not all that impressed with the difficulty and he only scored seventy-eight points, not enough to win the day money, but enough to keep him in the lead for the overall average.

By the time Frontier Days was over, he had collected another silver buckle and a pocketful of winnings toward a spot on the top fifteen and an invitation to the Finals.

The bad news was, he had trouble again on his dismount and landed hard on his shoulder and Ace-bandaged knee. Stormy and Reno raced into the arena, hurrying to where Dallas lay on his back in the dirt. Stormy must have realized how serious the problem was. While Reno held him steady, Stormy braced a foot against Dallas’s ribs and jerked on his arm, popping his dislocated shoulder back into place. Stormy helped him to his feet, bracing him up as he limped out through the arena gates.

The crowd applauded and Dallas turned to give them a reassuring smile. Reno retrieved his hat and gave the crowd a wave, but when the men turned, their smiles slid away. Deep lines etched into Dallas’s forehead and his jaw was knotted against the pain. He didn’t protest when Stormy helped him over to the ambulance and sat him down on a bench so the EMTs could take a look at him.

Hurrying from her seat in the press area, Patience rushed to where the ambulance was parked. Her chest ached with fear and her hands felt damp. She wondered what Dallas would say if he knew how important he had become to her.

She stopped next to the white and orange van with the word AMBULANCE printed backward on the hood, watched the men pull off Dallas’s boots, take off his chaps, then cut away the leg of his jeans. Patience stood anxiously as the EMTs worked over his injured knee.

“Looks like you twisted it pretty good,” one of them said, a cadaverish little man with short black hair. His homely features didn’t inspire much confidence, but he seemed to know what he was doing. “I don’t think you tore anything. How’s the shoulder?”

“Aches like hell, but I think it’s okay, thanks to Stormy.”

The tech just nodded. “A dislocated shoulder’s a real bitch. Looks like it slid back in okay.”

Dallas closed his eyes. “Thank you, God.”

They gave him a couple of Vicodin, pain pills he downed with a slug of bottled water while they laid an ice bag over his knee and wrapped it in place with a clean Ace bandage.

“I know you probably won’t listen,” the second man said, bulkier than the first, wearing a pair of horn-rimmed glasses, “but you ought to take some time off and give yourself a chance to heal up a little.”

“Good idea,” Patience chimed in, knowing it wouldn’t do a bit of good.

Dallas flicked a glance in her direction. “Actually, Charlie and I were talking about that just before the show. He thinks I ought to go back to the ranch with him, stay through the end of the week.”

“You better,” the skinny tech said. “You don’t stay off that knee, sooner or later you’re gonna do some permanent damage.”

“Yeah, well, I was thinking that maybe I’d go…if I could convince this lady here to come with me.”

Patience’s eyes widened. “To Texas?”

Dallas smiled. “Yeah, what do you think?”

A week with Dallas on Charlie’s ranch. How romantic was that? She flicked a glance at Dallas, her head filled with erotic thoughts she’d never had until she met him.

“You’d have your own room and all,” Dallas said a little gruffly, though his eyes promised something else entirely. Accepting the pair of crutches the EMT handed him, he hauled himself to his feet. “Annie’s kind of old-fashioned. I guess you know what that means.”

She took a deep breath, let it out slowly. She was tired of pretending, tired of arguing with herself. She wanted to go with him. Heck, she just flat wanted him.

“If it’ll keep you off the back of a bronc and give your body a chance to heal, I guess I owe it to your fans to say yes.” She smiled. “I’d love to see the ranch, Dallas.”

When he looked at her, his eyes seemed bluer than they were before. She recognized the hunger, the wanting. Suddenly she couldn’t get to Texas fast enough.

“That’s great,” he said, his eyes still on her face. “You’re really gonna love it.”

“Are you sure it’ll be all right with Charlie?”

“Not a problem. There’s plenty of room in the house and Annie always enjoys the company.”

“Especially you, I’ll bet.”

“She never had kids. She’s been mothering me since the first time I came to stay on the ranch when I was twelve years old.”

They made their way back to his RV, the pain pills starting to kick in, Dallas using the crutches like a pro.

“You’re awfully good with those things. How many times have you had to use them?”

He shrugged. “A few times, I guess. I’ll be better by tomorrow.”

Better.
That meant he’d be able to walk on his own. Cowboys. They were all a little crazy.

“Were you really going to Texas, even before you hurt your knee?”

“Yeah. Charlie got a phone call from Annie. I could tell something was wrong. He says another forty head of stock were stolen from the ranch last night.”

“Oh, no.”

“It’s probably not related to what happened with the trailer, but it still makes me nervous. I want to go back and check things out myself, see what’s going on.”

She paused at the door of his RV. “I’m glad you asked me to go.”

He looked down at her from beneath the brim of his hat. “If you knew how much I wanted you, you might not say that.”

She reached up and touched his cheek. “I’d still go. I should have said yes to you sooner.”

Dallas’s gaze sharpened. He bent his head, settled his mouth over hers, and Patience swayed toward him, encouraging him to deepen the kiss. His crutches slipped and his foot hit the ground. Dallas jerked away and a groan of pain rolled up from his throat.

Patience steadied him so he wouldn’t fall. “Oh, God, I didn’t mean to hurt you. Are you okay?”

He nodded, but sweat popped out on his forehead. Stormy ran up just then. “Easy, buddy. Remember that knee.” Together, the two of them helped him into the trailer and up on his bunk.

“We’re leaving tonight,” Dallas said, his voice beginning to slur from the drugs. “Just as soon as Charlie can get the crew packed up. We’ll be riding with him…driving straight through.”

“All right,” Patience said. “You get some rest. I’ll tell Shari what’s going on and get my stuff together.” She and Stormy left him on the bunk, his eyes drifting closed.

“They gave him some pretty strong stuff,” Stormy said. “He’ll probably sleep halfway to Texas.”

“Rest is exactly what he needs. I can help Charlie with the driving.”

“He’ll be taking his pickup, not one of the stock trucks. He’s eager to get back home.”

“I think that’s nice,” Patience said a bit wistfully. “It’s obvious how much he loves his wife. My dad has that kind of marriage. I think they’re both lucky men.”

Stormy look away, off toward the little white trailer that Shari called home. “Yeah. I think so, too.”

Charlie glanced over at the woman asleep on the passenger side of his truck. Dallas slept in the cramped backseat, awake off and on only briefly since they had left Wyoming. The boy was hurting and he was tired. Flat, bone tired. Charlie had rodeoed enough to know what that felt like. He also knew, hurting or not, his nephew wouldn’t quit until he had won enough money to earn himself a place in the Finals.

Charlie couldn’t help feeling proud of the boy, as close to a son as he would ever have. Two years after he and Annie had married, she had miscarried their first child and the doctors had discovered a growth on her ovaries. They had done a complete hysterectomy. There would be no children for two people who had always planned to have a passel, so when Dallas had arrived on their doorstep—twelve years old, his mother dead and shunted off by his father—Charlie and Annie could only feel grateful to God for sending them a child to fill the hole in their hearts.

The road stretched ahead. Charlie blinked against the grit in his eyes and kept them focused on the broken yellow line dividing the lanes. Patience had done her share of driving, maybe a little bit more. Seemed like she was the sort who never backed away from doing her share of the work.

He liked her for that. Hell, he liked her for a lot of things. Still, he was worried. He had never seen Dallas this way with a woman and it didn’t bode well.

Carsons loved hard and usually only once, and Dallas was a Carson on his mama’s side. If the boy fell in love with Patience Sinclair…well, Charlie only had to recall his little sister, Jolene, to know the consequences of a match like that. Patience and Dallas were as different as Jolie and Avery, no matter that she could ride and seemed to like rodeo.

This summer was a lark for her, an adventure. She had told him that herself.

The fact was, a Boston professor and a cowboy—even one who dreamed of someday turning rancher—just didn’t suit. Charlie and Annie were proof of the kind of marriage a man could have with a woman who fit into his life, his dreams. It was the kind of marriage he wanted his nephew to have, the kind Dallas deserved.

The good news was, no matter how involved the boy got with Patience, Dallas wasn’t a fool. Charlie didn’t think the girl was, either. They were infatuated with each other, yes. But there was a lot at stake. He didn’t think either one of them was crazy enough to make the same mistake Dallas’s mother and father had made.

At least Charlie hoped not.

Patience stirred on the seat beside him, opened her eyes and yawned. She stretched and rotated her head, trying to work the kinks out of her neck. “Must be my turn to drive.”

“Not yet,” Charlie lied. “You can sleep a little while longer.”

“You sure?” She was a pretty little thing, even with her blond hair rumpled and her eyelids a little puffy. And she had grit. He could see why Dallas liked her.

“I’ll wake you up when we stop for gas.”

Patience didn’t argue. It was a long trip from Wyoming to Texas. She curled up against the window and almost instantly fell back asleep.

Charlie noticed again how attractive she was and his worry returned. On top of the problems with the production company and the cattle rustling on the ranch, he was concerned about Dallas’s future. Charlie prayed the boy was smart enough to tell the difference between a woman who fired your blood and one you could make a life with.

But he wasn’t all that sure.

The Texas hill country was so green it made your eyes hurt. Tall green grasses, thick green shrubbery, big green trees. Flowers bloomed along the road and fanned across the lush, rolling hills, adding bright splotches of color. The air was damp, hot and thick this time of year, and yet Patience thought that compared to the wet cold of Boston, perhaps it wasn’t so bad.

“So what do you think?” Dallas asked, driving now, awake and alert after his long hours of slumber.

“It’s pretty. So lush and green. I can see why you like it so much.”

He smiled. “It shows, does it?”

“In every line of your face.”

Charlie slept scrunched up in the backseat and Patience heard him stir. He had driven for hours last night, letting her and Dallas sleep. He was a sweet man, and she was beginning to think that under all the alpha-male toughness and buckets of testosterone, so was the man he had adopted as his son.

“Texas is my home,” Dallas said. “I like everything about it. The rivers that wound through the fields, the cottonwoods shading the banks of the creeks.” Flocks of birds flashed out of the trees, winging their way upward, and a deer tripped daintily toward the stream.

“We’re almost there.” Dallas pointed up the narrow paved road they traveled. “The Circle C gate is just past those two big sycamore trees.”

Behind him, Charlie stirred again, sat up and blinked himself awake, as if the nearness of home drew him as well. He stretched in the backseat, and picked up the plastic bottle of water that rolled around under his feet. He took a long drink, swished it around in his mouth, and swallowed.

She could see the anticipation on Charlie’s face as they pulled through the tall wooden gates of the Circle C and drove down the tree-shaded lane to the house. They passed a pasture full of horses, who kicked up their heels and raced along beside the truck. Then Dallas stepped on the brakes in front of a white, two-story wood-framed house with bright red shutters and a white picket fence around the front yard. It looked like a storybook home, and Patience thought that it perfectly fit the image she carried of Charlie and his wife.

Annie came through the front door just as the dust began to settle. They all got out of the truck and Charlie made straight for his wife, hauling her into his arms and kissing her until she looked embarrassed. She wasn’t very tall, maybe five-one or two, trim and gray-haired, a woman who carried her sixty-odd years without apology, which added to the attractiveness of her face.

“Honey, this is Dallas’s friend, Patience Sinclair.”

Annie smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Charlie’s told me all about you.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, too,” Patience said, meaning it. “Charlie talks about you all the time, so I feel like I already know you.”

“Well, good, then we won’t have to be formal. Come on in and I’ll show you upstairs to your room. It’s nothing fancy, but I think you’ll be comfortable.”

“I assure you it’ll seem like a palace compared to my bunk in the trailer.” She followed Annie inside, Dallas and Charlie trailing in behind them. Annie led her up a wooden staircase, into a bedroom with white-ruffled curtains and a handmade red and white quilt over a bed with an old-fashioned white-painted iron headboard. A hooked rug in matching colors warmed the wide-planked oak floors.