Desert Heat (27 page)

“I really don’t think so. This has something to do with Charlie but no one can seem to figure out exactly what.”

They talked for at least an hour. She and Charity hadn’t spoken for nearly a month, which was a long time not to hear from her middle sister.

“I gather you and Call have been up North for most of the summer.”

“We went up in June. It’s great up there that time of year. We finished rebuilding ol’ Mose Flanagan’s cabin—which turned out really great. It looks just like it used to, only it’s all brand new. The place ought to last another hundred years.”

“So are you…you know…pregnant yet?”

Charity laughed. “We’re still thinking about it. We wanted to get the cabin done first. And I wanted to give Call a little more time to get used to the idea. But I think he’s really beginning to get excited about having a family. Maybe by Christmas I’ll be ready to go off the pill.”

They talked a little while longer. It was only a few minutes later that her eldest sister, Hope, phoned. She was as worried as Charity had been, but Patience reassured her that she was safe at the ranch.

“Are you sure about that?” Hope said softly. “I have a feeling this cowboy of yours could pose a very serious threat to your heart.”

Patience swallowed. Hope had always had a way of sensing her sisters’ innermost thoughts. “I’m in love with him, Hope. It’s going to kill me to leave him, but both of us realize it could never work out.”

“At least you know where you stand.” Hope hadn’t been that lucky. The man she had loved, Richard Daley, the man she was supposed to marry, had been sleeping with her closest friend. Hope had never really gotten over it.

“I guess I’d better get going,” Hope said. “I’ve got an article to finish and I’m only half done.” Hope was a freelance writer. Lately, her career had been going well and she was developing a reputation as a woman who could get the job done. “Take care of yourself and I’ll call again soon.”

Patience hung up the phone, grateful to finally have time to catch up with her family, though the painful conversation with Hope continued to roll around in her head.

Four more days with Dallas was all she had. Her stomach tightened. Four more days.

Don’t do this,
she told herself.
Enjoy the time you have left.

But she thought of Dallas and how much she loved him and knew it wouldn’t be an easy thing to do.

It was two hours later that Dallas walked into Charlie’s office, looking so handsome it made her ache inside. It was warm in the room, though the ceiling fan made lazy rotations that helped cool the sticky summer air. They hadn’t made love since the night they had spent in his motel room. The thought made her realize how badly she wanted him. From the slight darkening of his eyes, she thought that he wanted her, too.

“Any more sign of those cattle rustlers?” she asked, keeping the conversation light, feeling such a mixture of desire and love it made her want to weep.

“Not a trace, I’m happy to say.” He sat down on the edge of the desk, one long leg hanging over the side, leaned forward and kissed her. “I missed you. I wish you could have gone with me.”

But Dallas had refused to take her along, saying she was safer inside the house.

“Will you be going out again tomorrow?”

He nodded. “Takes more than a day to cover all this ground.”

“Good. Tomorrow I’m going with you.”

“No way. I told you—I don’t want you out there unprotected. What if the guy who tried to kill you followed us here? He might take another potshot and this time he might not miss.”

“You heard what the police said. The man was trying to shut me up. Now that I’ve told the authorities all I know, he’s got no reason to come after me.”

“You’re safer in the house,” he said stubbornly. “There are men outside who’ll shoot anyone who tries to get near you.”

Yes, but she was hundreds of miles away from where the attempts had been made and she believed the police were right and she was safe. And she was going with him tomorrow, whether he liked it or not. They only had a few days left. She was determined to make the most of them.

But she didn’t say that and Dallas seemed satisfied, turning his attention to the name she had scribbled several times on the pad beside the phone.

“Who’s Gracie McGuiness?”

Her earlier excitement returned. “Gracie was one of the early cowgirls.” Glad for a change of subject, she launched into a lengthy discussion of the trick rider who had been murdered in Denver in 1915.

“According to the newspaper articles Mabel sent, it looks like Gracie was strangled. As far as either of us have been able to find out, they never caught the man who did it.”

They talked a while longer, then Patience stood up from her chair and slipped her arms around Dallas’s neck. “It’s nice outside. I think we should go for a ride.”

She recognized the hungry look that came into his eyes, but Dallas shook his head. “Not a chance. I’m keeping you safe till the police find the man who tried to kill you.”

Patience sighed and let go of his neck. Damn, cowboys could be stubborn. “Have you heard from that detective you hired? Maybe Carter Maddox has come up with something.”

“Actually, he called on my cell phone while I was out in the barn. He’s still in Albuquerque. He thinks the guy we’re looking for is a pro. That means it isn’t likely he’s anyone on the Circle C crew and probably not anyone in rodeo.”

“You’re saying someone hired him to cause Charlie all this trouble? Someone wanted revenge that much?”

“Or someone wanted him out of the rodeo business that much.”

She thought of the attempts made on her life. “Enough to kill for it?”

“It sure looks that way.”

The following morning, Patience got up at dawn, dressed in jeans, boots, and a tank top, and headed downstairs to help Annie with breakfast. The meal was just about done when the men returned to the house from the barn. They stomped the dust off their boots, sat down, and dug into the sausage, eggs, fried potatoes, and biscuits that she and Annie had prepared.

As soon as the dishes were done, Patience went out to the barn to find Dallas.

“You’re riding out again today, right?”

“That’s right. Charlie and Ben Landers and me.”

“Good, I’m going with you.”

“Dammit, I told you I want you here where you’ll be safe.”

“Look, Dallas. In three more days I’m going back to Boston. Once I get there, you won’t be around to protect me. In the meantime, we only have a little time left. I want us to be together.”

Dallas looked at her and she could see the turmoil in his face, worry mixed with the same need she was feeling.

“I’m not stupid, Dallas. If I really believed I was in danger, I wouldn’t go. The police don’t think so and they ought to know.”

Dallas lifted his hat and blotted his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. “All right, you win, you can go. I’ll tell one of the hands to saddle Gigi for you.”

Patience gave him a flirty perusal. “I promise you won’t be sorry.”

For an instant, his eyes turned hot. He smiled, then turned and walked away. He headed for the barn and came back a few minutes later, leading their horses and carrying a rifle in his hand.

“You’re bringing a gun?”

“Thirty-thirty.” He shoved it into a scabbard behind his saddle. “If there’s trouble, I want to be prepared.”

She didn’t really mind. She’d been shot at and barely escaped being blown to bits. “Good idea. Let’s go.”

It was a good day to ride, a little cooler than it had been, a little less humid. A cleansing breeze tugged at the back of Dallas’s neck and ruffled Patience’s hair. Charlie and Ben rode up ahead, keeping an eye out for trouble and checking for any sign of cattle thieves.

Dallas looked over to where Patience sat casually in the saddle beside him. Over the years, he had dated a lot of women, some of them movie-star gorgeous, but none of them attracted him the way Patience did. Beneath the brim of her cowboy hat, her eyes were a soft sea green. The sun had pinkened her cheeks, and wisps of golden hair framed the fine bones in her face. Her loved her lips. They were beautifully curved and when he kissed her they sort of melted into his.

His belly clenched and blood pulsed in his groin. An instant later, he was hard against the zipper of his jeans and damned uncomfortable.

He couldn’t think of Patience without getting turned on, but what he felt for her went way beyond lust. In the months he had known her, he had come to admire her. She was smart and determined and a damned fine horsewoman. He had watched her with the children who came to the rodeo. It was obvious she loved kids, and several times lately he had found himself thinking what a good mother she would make.

But having a family with Patience wasn’t going to happen. Not now or anytime in the future. She was about to get her Ph.D. and start a job as an assistant professor. It was a career to be proud of, a goal she had worked all her life to achieve.

He had gotten so used to her upper-class Boston accent, he rarely noticed it anymore, but still it was there, a glaring reminder of the wildly different paths their lives were destined to take. For the past few days, he had tried not to think of that, or how soon she would be leaving. That once she was gone, she would be out of his life for good.

He was a cowboy. A rodeo rider. Cowboys didn’t marry professors. And even if he asked her and she was crazy enough to say yes, it would only ruin both of their lives. His parents had proved that. They had married against everyone’s advice and destroyed each other’s lives in the bargain.

Over the years, his father had become a cynical, bitter man, and his mother had died, driven by her disastrous marriage into an early grave. The differences between the two had simply been too vast to overcome. For Patience’s sake as well as his own, Dallas refused to make the same mistake.

Still, he loved her. And looking at her now as she rode beside him, so beautiful in the fading afternoon sunlight, made him yearn to change things, made him wish he could keep her with him forever.

Charlie drew rein on his horse and the rest of them followed. “You two be okay if Ben and me ride up to check that northwest pasture over the hill?”

“We’ll be all right,” Dallas said. “Been no sign of trouble. Give me a chance to ride down and take a last look at that piece you’re selling to Sully.”

Charlie’s expression shifted, filled with resignation. “All right. We’ll meet up back at the house.”

Charlie and Ben rode away, and Dallas nudged his horse forward, a big red roan called Brady that was great on the trail. With Dallas’s unexpected trip to Texas, Stormy still had Lobo and the black Dodge rig. Dallas needed to catch up with him, get back into the competition. He needed to increase his earnings if he was going to make it to the National Finals this year.

But he wasn’t leaving the ranch until he was certain that Charlie was out of danger. He hoped, now that his uncle had closed down his rodeo company, the man behind the accidents had gotten what he wanted and would leave Charlie Carson alone.

A crane flew out of the bushes along the creek and Brady tossed his big, freckled head, jangling the bit in his mouth. Dallas made a quick check of the area, but there was no one around. Beside him, Patience rode at a steady walk, the trail wide enough here so they could ride side by side. He reined off the main path onto a narrower trail that led up to the top of a hill overlooking the southwest section, land Charlie was selling to his neighbor.

It wasn’t the most scenic portion of the Circle C, being drier here, more sandy, with stratified ridges and several chalk-like formations marked with an occasional cactus.

“Well, if he had to sell, I’m glad this is the piece,” Dallas said.

“It’s definitely a different landscape than the other parts of the ranch I’ve seen, more stark and arid. Why does Sullivan want it?”

“Most ranchers like to increase their holdings whenever they get the chance. Mal’s property borders this section to the east. It’ll add some acreage and there’s a good stream running through it a little farther south.”

They rode off down the hill, out toward a sandy flat near the wire fence that marked the border between the Circle C and the Broken Arrow, Mal Sullivan’s ranch.

“Looks like someone’s been checking this area over,” Dallas said. Drawing rein on the roan, he swung down from the saddle and Patience swung down beside him. Leading Brady, he walked over to examine a set of tire marks in the dirt. “Must have been a pretty big rig to leave tracks so wide and deep.”

“Maybe this is where the rustlers drove onto the ranch.”

Dallas looked around but saw no cattle tracks anywhere around. “Maybe, but the tire tracks don’t go much farther and there are no steer tracks around. Whoever it was, they had to drive across Sully’s property to get here.”

“Maybe he wanted a closer look at what he was buying.”

“Yeah, probably. Or maybe someone trespassed on both of our properties. If that’s the case, the sheriff will want to cast those tire marks for comparison against the tracks left by the rustlers’ truck.”

Handing his horse’s reins to Patience, he began a search of the area. A little farther away, he found more tire tracks and signs of the ground being disturbed. It looked as if something had dug up the soil, then filled the hole back in.

“What is it?” Patience led the horses up behind him.

“I’m not sure. Looks like somebody’s been digging up the ground.”

“Why would they want to do that?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea, but the way things have been going, I think we’d better find out.” They mounted their horses and headed back toward the ranch house, taking the less used trails, keeping an eye out for anyone who might have been following them, or might be lying in wait somewhere ahead. But they saw no sign of trouble.

As they neared the house, Dallas relaxed his guard a little, letting his mind return to the unsettling discovery he had made. He needed to talk to Charlie, see if he knew anything about who might be trespassing on Circle C land.

Dallas cast a glance at Patience. They hadn’t made love in days and he was way past ready. He caught her looking his way and read the same thought in her eyes.

“Charlie’s got a couple of pastures to check,” he said. “He won’t get back to the house for a while. I know a place we can rest and water the horses.”

Patience’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

Once they reached their destination, Dallas led the horses into the slow-moving stream and both animals drank deeply. He tied them to a tree, giving them enough room to graze, then spread a blanket in the grass and drew Patience down beside him.

There was no one around. He heard the sound of insects and the breeze luffing through the trees as Patience reached over and touched his cheek.

“I’ve missed you,” she said and he knew exactly what she meant. Though they had been living under the same roof, he had missed the closeness, the intimacy.

They made love there on the blanket, hidden by the deep green grasses, their naked skin warmed by the sun slanting down through the branches of the trees. He tried to go slow, but she felt so good beneath his hands and he wanted her so badly. He kissed her breasts, her belly, found the place between her legs and pleasured her until she cried out his name.

She climaxed as he entered her, surging deeply, driving into her harder than he meant to. He clamped down on his need, determined to please her again, holding back, kissing her instead of pounding into her as he wanted. He loved her. He wanted her to know it. He kissed her breasts and she moved restlessly beneath him. Easing out, he drove into her and she arched against him, catching his rhythm, matching it, driving both of them to climax.

Their mating was more fierce than he intended and there seemed a desperation in the act.

She was leaving. He was losing her. He was in love with her. Though he wanted her again the moment they were finished, he reached for his clothes and so did Patience. They dressed in silence and he guided her back to the house.

Charlie rode up to the corral just minutes after Dallas and Patience arrived. Unfortunately, when Dallas mentioned the signs of trespass he had seen in the southwest section of the ranch, Charlie knew nothing about them.

“Probably just Sully,” he said. “He’s got a right to see what he’s buying.”

But Dallas wasn’t satisfied. That night after supper, he went into the study and telephoned his father. Avery Kingman made it a point to know everyone who was anyone in Texas, from senators to television personalities, and that included wealthy businessmen and cattle ranchers. Rich men and their wives were the foundation of his hugely successful plastic surgery practice.

His stepmother, Rachael, answered the phone with her usual, effusive greeting, then Avery came on the line.

“Well, I wondered when I’d finally hear from you.” The tone of his father’s voice grated on Dallas’s nerves.

“I’m back in Texas, Dad. Charlie’s been having some trouble.”

“Is that so?”

Dallas ignored the note of satisfaction. “I was hoping you might be able to help.”

A pause. “Go on.”

“The guy who owns the ranch next door to the Circle C is a man named Malcolm Sullivan. You ever heard of him?”

“Sullivan…yes, I know his ex-wife, Julia. She was a patient of mine some years back. Julia still comes in for the occasional Botox shot or a collagen injection to perk up her looks. She’s got two kids, as I recall, a girl in her mid-twenties and a boy several years older, about your age, I think.”

That was right. Beth Sullivan was about twenty-five and Brad was close to Dallas’s age, somewhere around twenty-nine or thirty. They were both spoiled rotten, always had been. Dallas hadn’t seen either of them in years.

“Sullivan’s cut a deal to buy a portion of the Circle C,” Dallas said. “I’m trying to find out if he has any special plans for it.”

Dallas could imagine his father’s face on the other end of the line, his features stern and frowning. “I can’t tell you much about his finances, aside from the fact his ex-wife is very expensive to keep and those kids of his are downright bloodsuckers.” His laugh held a bitter edge. “That’s not something I could ever say about you. You never wanted anything from me, not even the things I wanted to give you—like a college education.”

“I have a college education, Dad, in case you’ve forgotten. I graduated from Texas A&M.”

“With honors, I might add.”

Dallas braced for the rest of the lecture but it never came.

“Tell you what,” Avery said. “I’ll put out a few feelers, see if anyone knows anything useful.”

“I’d appreciate that, Dad.”

“Are you still seeing that attractive young woman you brought to my birthday party?”

Dallas’s stomach clenched. “We’ve been dating. She’s leaving on Sunday, going home to Boston.”

“That’s too bad. Rachael and I both liked her. She seemed to have a lot going for her.”

“She does, Dad. That’s why I’m letting her go.” He hadn’t meant to say it exactly that way and he wondered if his father heard the regret in his voice. Maybe Avery did, for he didn’t make any of his usual sharp-edged comments, just told Dallas to keep in touch and said he’d call if he turned up any interesting news.

Dallas hung up the phone and swiveled his chair to see Patience standing in the doorway of the office. As he rose from his seat, she walked toward him. She went into his arms and he tightened them around her. She didn’t say anything and neither did he. Both of them just stood there holding onto each other.

They had the next few days together. At the end of the week, he would drive her to the airport in San Antonio. He had reserved a room at the nearby Embassy Suites Hotel for their last night together, then the following morning, she would leave for home.

The summer was over. As soon as he was sure Charlie’s troubles were ended, he would catch up with Stormy, go back to riding broncs, and try not to think of Patience.

He tried to imagine how long it would take him to forget her and wondered if he ever really would.

Patience sat behind the desk in Charlie’s office. Dallas was out in the barn, looking over the latest crop of bucking horses Charlie was raising, trying to decide which horses to keep and which they might sell at the stock show in Miles City next spring. The auction in eastern Montana was one of the biggest events in rodeo, a place where bucking horses were actually ridden—or at least cowboys tried—so buyers could see how each animal performed.

Patience used the time the men were working to check in with her research team, bringing up her e-mail for any new information, then phoning Constance Foster, at the Cowgirl Hall of Fame, whom she hadn’t heard from yet.

Nothing new surfaced. When she finished, she closed down the computer and headed downstairs, surprised to hear the sound of an unfamiliar voice in the entry.

“The men are out in the barn,” Annie said. “They’ll be back any minute. Why don’t you wait for them in the living room and I’ll bring you a nice glass of homemade lemonade.”

“Thanks, Annie, that sounds great.”

Annie looked up just then and saw Patience at the bottom of the stairs. “This here’s a friend of Dallas’s. Her name’s Patience Sinclair. Patience, this is Malcolm Sullivan.”

Sullivan smiled. “Most folks call me Sully.”

Patience stuck out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Sully.”

“Same here.”

The only time she had seen Mal Sullivan had been through the kitchen window the last time she had visited the ranch. He had been rather nondescript, she had thought. Now she saw that he had once been a very handsome man, but years of sun and wind had wrinkled his face and time had begun to wear his body down. His shoulders seemed to carry the weight of the world. A general weariness surrounded him.