Desert Heat (20 page)

“It’s charming, Mrs. Carson. I especially love the quilt.”

“It’s Annie, dear, and thank you. I made it myself.”

“Along with the curtains and the rug?”

She smiled. “Helps to pass the time. Gets a little lonely out here sometimes with Charlie gone.”

“Yes, I imagine it does.” She glanced out the window, to the horses and cattle in the rolling green fields. “Still, I imagine you have plenty to do, keeping a ranch this size running smoothly.”

Annie sighed and shook her head. “Ain’t been runnin’ all that smooth lately. I’m real glad Charlie and Dallas come home.”

Dallas walked in just then, carrying Patience’s suitcase. “Any place special you want this?”

“Just put it on the bed.”

“It’s near to lunchtime,” Annie said to her. “Be ready in about half an hour. Give you time to unpack and settle in.”

“Thank you. If there’s anything I can do to help—”

Annie smiled. “I appreciate the offer. You can help with supper. I’ll see you downstairs in a while.” She turned to Dallas. “You coming?”

Dallas just smiled. “Yes, ma’am.” He cast a regretful glance at Patience and followed his aunt from the room, closing the door behind him.

Watching them leave, Patience felt the tension ebb from between her shoulders. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of Annie Carson. She liked what she knew of the woman, admired her for the way she handled the problems of running the ranch, but Patience was fairly sure Annie wasn’t thrilled to have her there. Patience figured it had something to do with her relationship with Dallas.

She couldn’t help a smile. Her dad would probably react the same way if she ever brought a cowboy home with her to Boston.

The Circle C Ranch stretched across the vast Texas landscape, eight thousand acres of lush Hill Country land. But someone was rustling Circle C cows and stopping them was Dallas’s first priority.

As soon as they finished lunch, a delicious spread of smoked ham, fried potatoes, vegetables from Annie’s garden, and homemade cornbread with her delicious honey butter, Dallas phoned Max Mills, the sheriff of Bandera County.

Max wasn’t in his office. Instead of returning the call, he drove up in front of the house that afternoon.

“Good to see you, Charlie, Dallas.”

“You, too, Max,” Dallas said. All three men shook hands. Max was ten years older than Dallas, but like a lot of Texas men, he had rodeoed during his youth, team roping with his dad mostly, riding bulls till he got enough sense to quit. He was tall and athletically built, an attractive man even though his blond hair was slowly turning silver and thinning so much he was nearly bald.

He glanced down at the bandage wrapped around Dallas’s leg. “How bad you hurt?”

“Not too bad. Just a twisted knee. I’ll be able to ride again by the end of the week.”

“Glad to hear it,” Max said, knowing from experience that
not too bad
meant the knee hurt like blazes.

“So tell us what’s going on,” Dallas said, cutting straight to the point. “You come up with anything useful this time?”

Max filled them in on the latest raid and any new information his deputies had picked up—which wasn’t much—then he suggested they climb into his car and drive out to the area where the cattle had been stolen.

“Whoever’s behind this has a pretty fair notion of what’s going on around here,” Max said. “Sully lost a couple dozen head that same night. He was away in Austin on business at the time. Seems like maybe they knew Charlie would be gone as well.”

“Sounds like,” Dallas said.

The men combed the upper pasture where the cattle had been taken. They found tire tracks, but they were a fairly standard Goodyear model, a Uni-Steel ll R 22.5, the sheriff said. The tracks showed the truck was fitted with a pair of dual wheels on the back, the sort of vehicle commonly used to transport horses and cattle. There were boot prints, indicating several different men were involved, evidence that might come in handy later on, but nothing that would help the sheriff discover exactly who was behind the theft.

“They’ve got to be selling those beeves somewhere,” Dallas said. “Anything turn up along that line?”

“Not so far. We figure maybe they’re hauling them out of state but we haven’t got anything concrete.”

“If they did go out of state,” Charlie said, “maybe they’ll stay there. They’ve got to know the risk increases every time they hit the same place.”

“That’s what we figured before. As it turned out, that wasn’t the case.”

“Maybe we could lay a trap for them,” Dallas suggested. “Move some cattle into one of the more accessible pastures, then let it be known around town that Charlie and I are going back on the road. We could stake out the pasture, see if our cattle thieves turn up.”

“That might work, except it was weeks between the first strike and this one. We can’t have deputies out there every night. We
can
try to patrol the area more often whenever you two are gone.”

“We’d appreciate that,” Charlie said. “And I can hire another hand or two, set up some kind of rotating night patrol.”

But of course that would cost money, an additional expense that right now Charlie couldn’t afford.

As soon as they got back to the ranch house and the sheriff went on his way, Dallas pulled Charlie aside. “Let me help you with some of these expenses. I’ve got money put away—you know that. If you won’t accept the money straightaway, I’ll make it a loan.”

But Charlie was already shaking his head. “Not gonna happen, son. These are my problems, not yours. I’m the one who’s gonna solve them.” Charlie turned away, but Dallas caught something in the grim set of his features.

“You’re not thinking of selling that southern acreage to Sully?”

Charlie refused to look at him. “He’s offered to buy the piece a couple of times before. It butts right up to that dogleg section he owns along the creek. Annie says he asked about it again the other day, offered her a good price for it, too.”

Dallas felt a sinking in the pit of his stomach. The Circle C had been in the Carson family for over a hundred years. Until now, Charlie had adamantly refused to sell off even a few acres.

“Don’t do it, Charlie. There’s got to be some other way.”

Charlie finally looked at him. “I ain’t sold anything yet. Even if I do, it’s not for you to worry about. You just get well, then git yerself back to ridin’. You win at the Finals, that’s the best thing you can do for me and Annie.”

Dallas said nothing more. He loved his aunt and uncle, but sometimes they frustrated the hell out of him. He sighed as Charlie headed back to the house, caught up, and started limping along beside him. For a while, at least, he would do as Charlie asked. He needed to rest and mentally prepare himself for the difficult months of competition ahead.

He glanced toward the kitchen, saw Annie and Patience through the window over the sink, at work on the evening meal. Patience laughed at something Annie said and the sound went straight through him. His loins tightened and his pulse spiked up. She had drawn her blond hair back into a single, no-nonsense braid, but he knew how silky it would feel if he untied the ribbon at the end and ran his fingers through it. He knew how luscious those long legs would look if he stripped away her jeans, remembered exactly how sweet it felt to be inside her.

His groin thickened and filled. He needed to heal, all right, but he needed something else even more. He had waited long enough for Patience Sinclair.

Annie handed the last of the supper dishes to Patience, who dried the plate carefully and put it on top of the stack in the cupboard.

“Well, now that we’re through with the chores, let’s go see what the men are up to.”

Dallas and Charlie were sitting in the living room, Dallas reading the
Daily Times,
the local area newspaper, Charlie in his recliner, his feet up, watching the evening news. This was a ranch and the chores were clearly divided. The men might not wash dishes, but looking around the ranch, it was obvious they did their share.

Annie stopped in the doorway leading into the room. “All right, you two—now that you’re stuffed full as ticks, what do you say we all sit down and play a little cards?”

Dallas laughed as he folded the paper and set it aside. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Aunt Annie. The last time I played with Patience, she wound up with all my money and everyone else’s.”

One of Annie’s gray eyebrows went up. She cast Patience a look that clearly said she was impressed. “Well, then, we’ll only count points, how’s that?”

“I don’t think I’m up for it tonight,” Dallas said. “It’s still plenty light outside. I thought I’d saddle a couple of horses, show Patience a little of the ranch.” He cast a look at Patience, whose eyes locked with his, then he turned and smiled at Annie. “Tomorrow night, I promise you can kick my butt at Hearts, the way you usually manage to do. That okay with you?”

Annie didn’t looked thrilled, but she nodded. “Just make sure you don’t stay out too late. You need to get your rest.”

Dallas grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

Patience watched the smile slide away as his attention returned to her. “That all right with you?” His eyes were a brilliant shade of blue and she knew he was planning a lot more than a sight-seeing tour.

“Are you sure you’re well enough to ride?”

A spark of mischief crept into his eyes. “I’ll be able to ride just fine—I promise.”

Patience felt the heat climbing into her cheeks. Her stomach tightened with anticipation that she prayed didn’t show on her face. “I’d love to see the ranch,” she said softly, and watched those hot blue eyes turn downright scorching.

“Come on, then.” He reached out and caught hold of her hand. “We’re burnin’ daylight here.”

She was certainly burning something. Her heart jumped, and her skin tingled wherever those blue eyes touched her.

Dallas kept hold of her hand as they left the house. As soon as they reached the barn and stepped inside out of sight, he pulled her into his arms.

“I’ve been dying to do this all day.” Bending his head, he kissed her, his lips brushing lightly over hers, then sinking deeper.

“Hey, Dallas!”

She thought he whispered a curse as he jerked away and dragged in a calming breath of air.

“Hey, Ben—it’s good to see you.” Dallas reached out and shook the man’s outstretched hand, then turned to where she stood in the shadows. “Patience Sinclair, meet Ben Landers, foreman of the Circle C Ranch.”

Patience stepped into the light and Ben touched the brim of his hat, looking faintly embarrassed to discover that Dallas wasn’t alone.

“Pleased to meet you, ma’am.” A slight flush shaded his cheekbones, which were lean, the skin across them dark and leathery. He looked like a cowboy should, tall and spare, his legs slightly bowed.

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” Patience said.

“We were just about to go for a ride,” Dallas told him. “I thought I’d show Patience a little of the ranch.”

Ben nodded. “Good idea. I’ll saddle you a couple of horses.”

“Thanks.” Dallas ran a finger along her cheek, turned, and walked over to help Ben with the horses. A few minutes later, he led a pretty little bay mare and a big-chested sorrel gelding over to where she stood next to one of the stalls.

“Take your pick. Gigi walks out a little faster than Outlaw, but he’s got a really smooth gait.”

She opted for Gigi. The mare was just too pretty to pass up. Dallas adjusted the stirrups and they left the barn, heading off down a narrow trail along a small running stream. The breeze picked up, lifting some of the humidity and cooling the damp summer air. Puffy white clouds drifted by overhead, lending occasional shade as the evening continued to cool.

They didn’t ride all that far. She smiled when he pulled the horses to a stop in a shaded, secluded meadow next to the creek. Dallas tied the horses, reached up and pulled her down from the saddle and straight into his arms.

His kiss wasn’t gentle. Maybe he had meant it to be but the minute their lips touched, something happened. Both of them just seemed to lose control. His tongue was in her mouth and she was sucking on it, hard. One big hand cupped the nape of her neck, dragging her closer, at the same time moving her backward, up against the trunk of a tree. He shoved up her T-shirt, slid his hands inside her bra to cup her breasts, molded them, rubbed her nipples.

He was big and hard against the front of his jeans, and she arched against him, heard him groan. Her body was on fire, her breasts aching, throbbing against his palms. She was wet, her thong panties rubbing places she had never noticed before, her nipples hard and erect.

“Dallas…”

He kissed the side of her neck, kissed her deeply again, yanked her tank top up over her head, unfastened her bra and filled his hands with her breasts. She was shaking all over and on fire, wanting him so much it was frightening.

“What…what about your knee?”

“It’s fine.”

That meant he had taken a pain pill and wrapped it really well, but she knew better than to argue. Dallas kissed her again and slid his tongue into her mouth. He kissed her one way and then another, kissed her and kissed her and kissed her. The snap popped open on her jeans. He slid his hands inside to cup her bottom, felt the naked curves, the thin silk thong between the globes, and groaned.

The husky sound sent a wave of desire flooding through her. She felt hot and dizzy, teetering on the edge of climax. Dallas pulled her tighter against him, fitted his erection into the notch formed by her thighs, rubbed himself against her. All the time he kept kissing her, kneading her breasts, using his tongue in an erotic imitation of what he meant to do to her body. He tugged the ribbon off her braid, sank his hands into the ripply strands of her hair, fisted them, dragged her head back, and kissed her again.

“God, I hope I’m not scaring you,” he said between ragged breaths, voicing the thought she’d had just moments before.

Patience pressed her mouth against the side of his neck, went up on her toes and lightly bit his earlobe. “I’m not the least afraid.”

She felt his muscles tighten, straining with his effort at control. “God, I want you. I want to tear off your clothes and bury myself so deep you start coming and never stop.” Kissing her shoulders, he moved lower and began to feast on her breasts. She felt his teeth scrape against her nipple and heat washed over her, so fierce she swayed on her feet.

“You make me feel…so good,” she whispered, and Dallas kissed her savagely again. She had never met a man who could kiss the way he did, or seemed to enjoy it so much. He stopped only long enough to strip her jeans down her legs, then bent and tugged off her boots. The jeans were gone, leaving her in only her red thong panties. He slid his fingers inside the damp satin, began to stroke her, and her body went up in flames.

Lifting her, he shoved the panties aside, wrapped her legs around his waist, and buried himself to the hilt. She came almost instantly, her head falling back, clamping down on her bottom lip to keep from moaning his name. The pleasure had barely begun to fade when he surged even more deeply and she started coming again.

Dallas kept a tight grip on her bottom, holding her in place to receive his heavy thrusts. She could feel the thick weight of his shaft as he drove into her several more times, then allowed himself to reach his own release.

For long seconds neither of them moved. Patience’s head rested on his shoulder, her legs still circled his waist. Dallas released a weary sigh as he let her go and she slowly slid down his body. He stripped away the condom she had no idea he’d put on, zipped himself back inside his jeans, then bent his head and kissed her one last time.

“Now maybe I’ll be able to think straight around you for a while.”

Patience gave him a catlike smile, feeling feminine and sexy as she never had before she met him. “Don’t count on it, cowboy.”

Dallas laughed. Shaking his head, favoring his leg only a little, he walked over and untied the blanket behind his saddle, spread it out on the grass. Then he caught her hand and tugged her down beside him.

Leaning back, he propped himself on his elbows and cast her a serious glance. “I wish I could figure out what it is about you that drives me so crazy.”

One of her eyebrows went up. “You think
you’ve
got a problem? Until I met you, my life was neat and orderly—everything planned out way ahead. I never did anything without thinking about it first. And I never would have believed I could share a strictly sexual relationship with a man.”

His eyes locked on her face. “Is that what this is? A strictly sexual relationship?”

Patience swallowed against the lump that began to form in her throat. “You know it is. It has to be, Dallas.”

He nodded, dragged his gaze away. “Yeah, I know.” He didn’t say more and neither did she. Both of them were thinking that the summer was slipping away and summer was all they had. They were just too different. It could never work between them. It was a fact that neither of them could change.

Patience reached up and cupped his cheek. “Dallas?”

He had put his hat back on—a dusty white straw in deference to the heat—and he smiled at her from beneath the brim. “What is it, darlin’?”

“Would you think I was greedy if I asked you to make love to me again?” He was already hard. She could see the heavy bulge at the front of his jeans, but he went harder still.

“I’d think you were almost as greedy as I am.” Bending his head, he nibbled her lips, then very softly kissed her. Patience took off his hat and tossed it away, pulled his head down for another lingering kiss. They made love on the blanket, more slowly this time, then curled up next to each other to watch the sun slowly sink behind the hills.

It was time to leave, and so, regretfully, they did. Patience rode Gigi along the narrow trail behind Dallas, who led the way back to the house. She loved the way he looked on a horse, so tall and broad-shouldered, so casually straight in the saddle. His hat rode low and butter-soft jeans molded to his thighs.

It was impossible not to be attracted to a man who looked that good, that male, one who was also such a wonderful, considerate lover. It was hard not to fall in love with him.

She had to take care, she told herself, had to be wary, but a nagging voice warned that it was already too late.

Dusk settled in as they neared the big white, wood-framed house, turning the sky a soft pinkish purple. She could see the glow of the TV through the window of the family room, where Annie and Charlie sat watching a
Seinfeld
rerun, both of them laughing, curled up next to each other on the sofa.

A pang went through her. She would love to share that kind of closeness with a man. Maybe someday she would find someone who fit into her life the way Annie and Charlie fit together. Patience refused to think of Dallas in the role, knowing how impossible it would be. The fact was unbearably depressing.

Instead of joining the couple in the family room, she pled a case of travel weariness, said a brief good night, and headed upstairs to her room. She could feel Dallas watching her but he didn’t ask her to stay and she wondered if his thoughts might be the same.

Annie watched Patience Sinclair leave the family room and head for the stairs. There was no mistaking the flush in her cheeks, or the satisfied male smile on Dallas’s face when he walked into the room, hung his hat on the rack beside the door, and sat down in one of the brown leather chairs in front of the TV.

It was none of her business, Annie told herself. Both of them were adults. They had a right to live whatever kind of life they wanted. Annie just hoped Dallas didn’t make the same mistake his mama had.

Not that she didn’t like Patience. She was one smart little gal—getting herself a Ph.D., Charlie said, gonna be a professor at some fancy college in the East. But that was just the point. A professor and a cowboy. It just wouldn’t work, even if the two of them wanted it to.

Annie had seen what had happened when Jolene married Avery. A rancher’s daughter and a highfalutin, big-time Houston plastic surgeon, though, of course, he was still in medical school back then. What a disaster that turned out to be. Nothing but arguin’ and fightin’ about every little thing, one of them wanting to live the high life in the city, the other feeling out of place, begging to move back to her home in the country.

Far as Annie was concerned, it had driven Jolie Carson Kingman into an early grave, and it was the last thing she wanted for the boy she thought of as her son.

Annie sighed and clicked off the TV. Next to her, Charlie snored lightly. She nudged him a little and he grunted, blinked his eyes, and sat up on the sofa.

“Gettin’ late,” Annie said. “Time to go on up to bed.”

Charlie’s gave her a sleepy-eyed grin. “Bed, is it? Well, honey, you know I can’t resist that kinda invitation.”

Annie laughed and elbowed him in the ribs, but she didn’t say no and she didn’t mind at all when his hand went around her waist as they started up the stairs. Annie loved Charlie Carson, had loved him from the first time she had met him, right here on his daddy’s ranch. Her mother had worked cleaning the house once a week, and on that summer day so long ago, Annie had come with her mama to help.

She remembered the exact moment Charlie Carson had walked in, wearing his worn jeans and boots, a battered straw hat, and a big, warm smile. Annie remembered thinking how handsome he was and that any man with a smile like that had to have a good heart. She had thought that if he did, Charlie Carson was the man she wanted to marry.