He kept his gaze fixed on the two men and as he spoke, Patience edged away from him, moving a little closer to Brad, who stood beside Hatch. An inch at a time, she eased a little behind him.
Brad shook his head, a smug look on his face. “We don’t have anything to talk about, Kingman. You saw to that when you threatened to blow the deal.”
Dallas took an unconscious step, one hand fisted, and Hatch raised the pistol, the big black automatic glinting in the hot Texas sun. “I said, start walking.”
It was now or never. Flicking Dallas a glance she prayed he would understand, she took a huge leap forward, hurling her body toward Brad, knocking him into the gunman, whose arm flew up as he pulled the trigger. The sound echoed over the valley, followed by the sound of a fist connecting with bone, Dallas throwing a punch that smashed into Hatch’s jaw.
Dallas grabbed the wrist gripping the pistol and they started to struggle for control. On the ground beneath her, Brad fought to shove Patience off him, but she drew back and shot her fist into his face. His nose made a cracking sound and blood spurted out of his nostrils.
“You little bitch!” He finally tossed her off him into the dirt, then captured her wrists to avoid the nails she tried to rake down his face. He pressed her into the ground and Patience bucked beneath him, at the same time bringing her knee up sharply between his legs.
“Shit!” Brad’s face leached to the color of sand and he rolled off her into the dirt. Bent double, he clutched his privates as he gagged and tried not to vomit.
Trembling all over, terrified for Dallas, Patience bolted to her feet and began to frantically search the ground for some kind of a weapon. A few feet away, the two men wrestled in the dirt, first one on top and then the other, trying to gain control of the gun.
The pistol fired. Once, twice. Lying in the sand a few feet away, Sullivan made a strangled sound and blood erupted on the back of his custom tailored shirt. Dallas punched Hatch in the jaw and the pistol went flying, landing on the ground, then skidding into the dry shrubs and weeds.
Patience ran after it. By the time she picked it up and whirled to aim it at the gunman, Hatch lay unconscious in the dirt. Dallas staggered to his feet, breathing hard, his hat long gone, blood smeared over his western shirt, the snaps ripped open, the tail hanging out of his jeans. A trickle of blood oozed from the corner of his mouth.
Patience ran toward him. “Dallas!” She threw herself into his arms and he crushed her against him. “How…how badly are you hurt? You aren’t…aren’t shot or anything?” She fought to control the shudders ripping through her body and they finally began to subside.
“I’m fine.” Dallas reached down and gently removed the gun from her trembling hand. “How about you? You okay?”
She dragged in a steadying breath. “I’m okay. You’re the one who’s bleeding.” She reached down and caught the tail of his shirt, used it to dab the blood from the corner of his mouth.
“Take a look in the truck,” Dallas said. “See if there’s something we can use to tie these guys up with.”
“Hatch shot Brad. I don’t know how badly he’s hurt.”
Dallas turned in that direction, saw Brad lying face-down in the sand and the blood on the back of his shirt. “You get the rope. I’ll see what I can do for Brad.”
Patience found several coils of rope behind the seat. Hurrying to where Hatch lay sprawled on the ground, she started tying him up while Dallas worked over Brad. Dallas eased him onto his back and she realized that Brad wasn’t breathing. Dallas pressed his fingers against Brad’s neck to check for a pulse, but the gesture was futile. Hatch’s wild shot had gone into his back and out through his chest, a clean shot through the heart.
Dallas walked over to help her finish tying up Hatch, who still lay unconscious. The gunman was just beginning to stir when she heard the blare of sirens screaming over the hill.
“It’s Mills,” Dallas said, spotting the sheriff’s familiar patrol car cresting the rise, followed by a second patrol car racing along behind the first. “I wonder how the hell he knew we were here.”
“Maybe Rosa heard the men talking. Maybe she called nine-one-one.”
But when the vehicles rolled to a stop beside them, Patience saw Malcolm Sullivan sitting in the sheriff’s back-seat. As Sullivan climbed out of the car, his gaze went to the two men on the ground.
Dallas looked at Mal. “I’m sorry, Sully. “I’m afraid Brad’s dead.”
Sullivan’s throat moved up and down. His eyes darted toward the body of his son, lying on the ground. “You…you killed him?”
“It wasn’t me. I was fighting with Hatch, trying to get the gun. Hatch accidentally shot him.”
Sullivan seemed to fold in on himself. His face looked haggard and his eyes filled with tears. Turning away, he wandered off on shaky legs to the place where his son lay in the sand and slowly sank down beside him. Patience felt a surge of pity at the sound of the man’s heart-wrenching sobs.
“Sully called us,” the sheriff explained. “He told me what had been going on and what Brad planned to do. He said he couldn’t let his son kill two innocent people.”
Dallas just nodded. He looked over at Patience, reached out and slid an arm around her waist. As the sheriff and his deputies took the prisoner into custody, he led her over to the patrol car and they climbed into the backseat out of the sun.
Patience felt Dallas’s eyes on her. “You were really terrific out there,” he said.
“You were pretty terrific yourself.”
Dallas lowered his head and very gently kissed her. “I love you. I’ve never said that to any other woman. I know it doesn’t change things. I just wanted you know.”
Patience slid her arms around his neck and leaned into him. “I love you, too.”
They held each other until the sheriff returned to the car. Once they got back to the Circle C, they would send someone to the Broken Arrow to collect their horses, but in the meantime, they just wanted to go home.
Neither of them talked as Mills drove them back to the ranch house, but all the way there, Patience fought back tears. Dallas loved her. She never thought she’d hear him say it. He had also said it didn’t change things.
Patience wished with all her heart it wasn’t the truth.
They say all good things must come to an end. For Patience, no truer words were spoken. Her adventure was over. Her thesis was written, and it was time to return to Boston, to go back to the world she lived in and the life she had left behind.
After the death of Bradford Sullivan, and facing long years in prison, Gerald Hatch had agreed to cooperate with authorities. He had confessed to being the man behind the “accidents” Charlie had suffered and named Brad Sullivan as his employer, along with—to everyone’s surprise—Brad’s younger sister, Elizabeth, who, according to the gunman, didn’t know about the fire or the attempts on Patience’s life, but had been well aware and an equal participant in the scheme to force Charlie into selling his land.
Mal Sullivan’s part remained questionable. If he suspected his children were involved and did nothing to stop them, the resulting death of his son would be a burden that would haunt him forever. Charges had been filed against Hatch and both the remaining Sullivans. It was up to the district attorney’s office to sort out the truth.
At last, the threat was over. Charlie could return to the rodeo circuit, Dallas could go back to riding, and Patience could begin her teaching career.
It sounded simple enough.
So why did her heart ache every time she looked at Dallas? Why did just saying his name make her throat clog with tears?
She cast a glance to where he sat next to her in Charlie’s pickup, his eyes intensely blue beneath the brim of his hat.
“We’re almost there,” he said as the truck carried them toward the hotel room he had rented at the Embassy Suites near the San Antonio airport. Earlier, Patience had said her good-byes to Charlie and Annie and was surprised to see tears in the older woman’s eyes.
“You’re a good girl, Patience. You take care of yourself now, you hear?”
Patience just nodded. Her throat felt tight, and when she went into Charlie’s arms for a last good-bye hug, her own eyes filled with tears.
“I was lucky to know you,” she said to him. “I was lucky to know all of you.”
Charlie gruffly cleared his throat. She thought he might say something about coming back to see them but he didn’t. Patience understood why.
“We’re pretty modern here these days,” he said. “Maybe you’ll send us an e-mail once in a while…tell us how you’re doin’.”
She nodded. “I will, I promise.”
Neither of them said anything more, just walked out to the pickup and waited while Dallas helped her climb up in the cab. They were getting a late start. The sheriff had wanted to go over the facts of the case one more time and the afternoon had slipped away.
It was evening by the time they arrived in San Antonio. Tonight would be their last night together. Dallas had planned a leisurely dinner at Ellington’s, downstairs in the hotel, but in the end, both of them decided against it. She didn’t want to waste these last precious hours in a restaurant. She didn’t care if they ate at all.
She just wanted to be with Dallas one last time.
The multi-storied hotel appeared in the distance. Dallas pulled up beneath the overhang that protected the entrance to the lobby, handed the car keys to a bellman, and he and Patience went inside. They didn’t have much luggage. Hers had been blown to kingdom come and Dallas would only be there one night.
As soon as they finished checking in, they took the elevator up to the fifth floor corridor and he unlocked the door to a large, nicely furnished room with a big glass window and a king-size bed. In silence, he took the canvas bag that was the only luggage she had and set it next to his on the floor of the closet. Then he gently caught her shoulders and drew her into his arms.
The kiss was soft and sweet, as if it were a first kiss instead of one of their last. He kissed her eyes, her nose, the corners of her mouth. For an instant, she thought how much she loved him, how much she was going to miss him, and her chest squeezed.
But she wanted this night, wanted to savor the moments, and she didn’t want to spoil it with tears.
She kissed him back, slid her arms around his neck, opened to accept his tongue. He kissed her deeply and heat washed over her, replacing the sadness, at least for a while. Desire slipped through her, made her heart beat faster, made her ache in places besides her heart. He unbuttoned her blouse and slid it off her shoulders, unfastened the serviceable white bra that was the only one she had left and let it fall to the floor.
She stood before him, naked to the waist, and his eyes devoured her. They were hot with need, filled with restless hunger, and everywhere they touched her, she burned. Dallas leaned down and kissed her, filled his hands with her breasts. Such skillful hands, she thought, so gentle and yet so strong.
She opened his shirt, ran a finger over the muscles across his chest, through the tight brown curls, then bent and pressed her mouth against the skin above his heart. They paused only long enough to dispense with their clothes, then he led her to the bed. Sliding his fingers into her hair, he tilted her head back and started kissing her again. She could feel his erection, rigid against her belly, see the rapid pulse beating at the base of his throat.
It was hot tonight and beginning to storm. Heat lightning flashed outside the window. Patience felt the same powerful jolt of electricity as he lowered his mouth to her breast. His tongue found her nipple, circled it, leaving a cool damp ring. His teeth grazed the tip, then he drew the fullness into his mouth.
She wanted to tell him how much she loved him, wanted to hear him say those words to her one last time. But both of them knew it would only make their parting more difficult and the words remained locked away. Still, he said them, speaking through those blue, blue eyes, telling her with each caress, each deep, lingering kiss.
I love you.
If only love were enough.
But it wasn’t. Not for her. Not for him. Not for a lifetime. And neither of them would settle for anything less.
Dallas kissed her, long, deep, thoroughly. He laved her breasts and she felt his erection, throbbing with power and need. He carried her over to the bed and came down above her, bracing himself on his elbows. His hard body rested between her thighs and the heavy, masculine weight of him made her tremble. He moved upward, entering her slowly, then filling her completely. He was everything she didn’t want. Everything that would make her unhappy.
And she loved him as she never would another man.
“Dallas…” she whispered, her throat clogged with tears she refused to shed.
“I love you,” he said, moving now, stroking deeper, branding her so that she would never forget him.
She would try. Dear God, she prayed she would succeed. But deep down she knew she would never forget this man who had come to mean so much to her.
Lightning flashed, but there was no thunder. Another flash and another, half a dozen spears of yellow in the darkness all at once, their naked bodies illuminated by the softly muted glow outside the window. It was humid outside and so deathly still. Just the heat and the night and the longing.
Deeply joined, Dallas filled her again and again. She gripped his hips, drawing him deeper still, filled with him as he slid himself out, then surged forward again.
They came together, both of them reaching the pinnacle at once, the force of their need so powerful it left them exhausted, barely able to move.
Afterward, they lay entwined, Patience’s head on Dallas’s shoulder, his leg draped over her calf. The air conditioner kicked on, humming into the silence, cool air bathing their heated skin.
No more words of love were spoken. Neither of them dared.
They made love throughout the night, mostly in silence, taking comfort in each other’s bodies, trying to satisfy a need that seemed to have no end.
In the morning, he drove her to the airport.
“I wish you didn’t have to go,” he said as he walked her to the gate. “I wish things could be different.”
She nodded, her throat too tight to speak.
“I don’t suppose we could see each other once in a while. You know…just to keep in touch.”
She only shook her head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, do you?”
Dallas glanced away. “I don’t suppose it is.” He was wearing his black hat, new blue jeans, and a white western shirt. His jaw was set, his eyes a flat grayish blue. Still, he was so handsome it made her aching heart crack wide open.
The loudspeaker echoed into the waiting area in front of the security gate. “That’s my flight. I’d better go.”
For an instant neither of them moved. Dallas leaned toward her, caught her face between his hands, bent his head, and very gently kissed her.
“Have a good life,” he said.
Patience tried to smile but her eyes filled with tears. “You, too. I know you’re going to win at the Finals.”
Dallas stared at her a long moment more, memorizing each of her features, just as she did his; then he pulled her hard against him. He kissed her with so much love, so much yearning.
Then he turned and walked away.
Patience watched until she could no longer see him through the hot glaze of her tears; then she turned and started walking to her plane.