She sighed. "I'm afraid it isn't."

Stormy swallowed and nodded, shoved himself out of the dinette. He didn't say more, just grabbed his hat and headed for the door. "I appreciate your talking to me."

"I wish I could have helped, I really do."

"Yeah, so do I." Stormy left the trailer and she didn't see him again that day. She didn't see Dallas, either. He'd been keeping to himself more and more. They hadn't made love since the morning she had spent in the bunk in his RV. She had a feeling it had something to do with what was happening between Shari and Stormy.

Patience and Dallas were in the same situation-more so, since Patience's life had never been rodeo, the way Shari's had.

At least she and Dallas weren't in love.

Her stomach squeezed as she admitted the lie to herself. Dallas might not be in love, but Patience was. Deeply, stupidly in love with exactly the wrong man.

Patience took a calming breath. She needed some air, needed to clear her head. She left the trailer and wandered away off toward the flat-topped buttes in the distance, part of her wishing the summer was already at an end.

When he wasn't trying to console his best friend, Dallas was trying not to think of Patience. In the past few weeks, he had let himself get too close. She'd be gone in a couple more weeks and he was already in over his head. Seeing the pain in Stormy's face warned him not to make the same mistake his friend had made.

You've got to pull back, he told himself. Get things back in their proper perspective. But it wasn't that easy to do.

Worrying about Charlie helped distract him. Junior Reese and the stolen money loomed heavy on his head. If there had been a shred of evidence, they could have confronted him. But the woman, Rae Ann Bonner, had been specific in her ID, and according to her, the man who stole the money couldn't have been Junior Reese.

Still, Dallas's gut told him it was.

After the robbery, Deputy Santiago had gone to see Reese at the Westward Ho Motel. Junior had denied any knowledge of the theft and refused to let the officer into his room without a search warrant.

Well, Dallas didn't need a warrant. Just a credit card to open the door, or a window Reese might have left unlatched. All he had to do was figure out which room Junior was staying in.

The saddle bronc section was over. Garbed in their clown gear, Junior and Cy rushed into the arena and began entertaining the crowd.

As Dallas headed through the darkness toward his truck, he hastily unbuckled his chaps, opened the door of the pickup, and tossed them behind the seat. Then he slid behind the wheel and cranked the engine.

He was driving across the uneven ground behind the arena when Patience's slim shape appeared in the yellow beam of his headlights. Dallas softly cursed. He rolled down his window, but didn't turn off the ignition.

"Great ride tonight," she said.

"Thanks."

"Where are you going?"

"I've got some business in town."

"I'm kind of hungry. I thought maybe we could go get something to eat."

"Like I said, I've got some business I have to do."

Patience didn't budge, just gave him a long, knowing glance. "You don't fool me, Dallas Kingman. I know the business you're planning to do. You're going to Junior's motel room to look for that money and I want to go with you."

Dallas's fingers tightened around the steering wheel. "How the hell would you know where I'm going?"

"Because I'm beginning to know how you think. And besides, that's what I'd do."

"Yeah, well, even if I am, you aren't going. There might be trouble and I don't want you involved."

"Too bad. If you don't take me, I'll find Junior and tell him where you went."

"Bullshit. You wouldn't do that to Charlie."

Patience gave an exasperated sigh. "Look, if you take me with you, I can help. I can find out which room Reese is in and I can keep watch while you're making the search."

Dallas glanced down at his wristwatch. Time was slipping away. Dammit, he didn't want to take her with him, but she probably would have a better chance of finding out Junior's room than he would. "Get in."

Patience hustled around to the passenger side of the truck and climbed up on the black leather seat. They took off for the motel, which wasn't far from the rodeo grounds, and when the sign appeared, he pulled off the highway into the darkness at the edge of the parking lot.

The light was on in the motel office. Through the window, he could see a dark-haired clerk, standing behind the front desk.

"Leave this to me." Patience cracked open the door and jumped down from the seat.

"Just be careful," Dallas warned, nervous just watching her crossing the pavement.

She wasn't gone long. When she returned, she motioned to him to join her. She was grinning, he saw, dangling a room key from the end of her finger.

"How'd you do that?"

"Told him I was Junior's girlfriend and I wanted to surprise him when he came back to the room after the rodeo."

Dallas felt a tug of admiration. "Come on. Let's go."

They crossed the road and disappeared into the shadows along the building. Dallas waited in the darkness while Patience used the key to open the door. As soon as she stepped inside, Dallas slipped in to join her.

"Close the curtains," he said.

Patience was already in the process. "I'll keep an eye on the parking lot."

He nodded. "If Reese shows up, we'll go out the back window."

Patience leaned forward to peer through the crack in the curtains. The room was inexpensive, just a couple of twin beds with a nightstand in between, a bathroom with a shower over the tub, a water-stained toilet, and rusty sink. As a clown, Junior didn't have much of a name and his pay was minimal.

Dallas quickly scanned the interior. Junior's makeup kit sat open on the dresser, greasepaint gleaming in red, orange, purple, and blue. The dresser drawers were empty. Reese hadn't bothered to unpack and a canvas bag still held most of his clothes. The bag contained clean underwear and socks, a pair of toenail clippers, a few other personal items, and not a dollar of stolen money.

A search of the bathroom turned up nothing, just a toothbrush, razor, and some shaving soap. Dallas moved to the closet and slid open the doors. Metal wheels squeaked as they moved along the track. A couple of shirts and a pair of worn jeans, along with a couple of pairs of oversize Wranglers next to the scuffed boots on the floor.

A pile of dirty clothes had been tossed into a corner. Dallas reached down and rifled through them. A thin white cotton T-shirt caught his eye. He tugged it out of the pile and held it up for closer inspection.

"Take a look at this."

Patience turned away from the window and walked over to where he held up the shirt. "What is it?"

"See this yellow greasepaint on the front? It's kind of smudged, like he got it on there when he pulled the T-shirt off over his head."

"So?"

Dallas smiled grimly. "Junior doesn't wear yellow face paint. He paints his face in darker colors, blue and purple mostly, outlined with orange and red. Cy uses the brighter shades-including yellow."

"Are you sure?"

"Damned right, I'm sure. I've seen him work often enough over the years." Dallas walked over to the makeup kit. "Check it out. Junior doesn't even own any yellow paint. He must have used some of Cy's, then washed it off and redid his face the way he usually does. He would have had plenty of time. There was a full section of broncs, then more time while the barrels were being set up for the racing."

A noise sounded in the corridor outside the motel room. Dallas jerked Patience behind him as a key turned in the lock and Junior Reese swung open the door. He took in the scene, only mildly surprised, and a grim smile curved his lips.

"Well, look who's here. Kind of thought you might try something stupid like this."

Dallas caught the gleam of metal in Junior's hand, looked down and saw the little twenty-five-caliber pistol Reese held. He must have seen the light through the curtains. Junior had wiped off some of his face paint. His hollow, sunken cheek and the scar bisecting his eyebrow stood out starkly in the harsh light of the motel room. Though most of the paint was gone, a wide purple smudge tracked along his jaw and a smear of red tinted his chin.

"Breaking and entering," Reese said. "That's a crime, you know."

"Where's the money?" Dallas said.

"I don't have your money. The police say your witness ID'd Cy Jennings. Why don't you ask Cy where it is?"

Dallas held up the T-shirt. "You don't wear yellow greasepaint, Reese-but Cy Jennings does. You painted your face to look like his in case somebody saw you. Now, what did you do with the cash?"

Junior looked at the incriminating shirt, then his mouth edged up in the parody of a smile. "You want to know what I did with it? I spent it, that's what. Every dime is gone. And if you think that dirty T-shirt is going to prove I stole it, you can forget it. I had a bad couple of years after that bull stepped on my face. Did a little time in the pen. Even if the shirt was proof, the court wouldn't allow it as evidence. You aren't the police, and even if you were, you don't have a search warrant."

Dallas softly cursed. The bastard was right. There was no way in hell they would be able to prove Junior was guilty. Dallas took a menacing step forward. He felt Patience's hand on his arm as Junior raised the gun.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Reese warned.

Dallas's hands unconsciously fisted. "You may have the money, Reese, but you're ruined in this business. Word will get out-I'll personally see that it does. No one will hire you-nobody in the rodeo world at least."

Junior shrugged his shoulders. "I was thinking about retiring anyway. I'm getting too old for this clown crap. I figured Charlie owed me a little nest egg. You can tell him I said that."

"Charlie never told you to take a suicide wrap when you got on that bull. You can blame him for what happened all you want, but the fact is, if you'd used better judgment, you wouldn't have gotten hung up that day and you wouldn't have gotten hurt."

A muscle knotted in Junior's sunken cheek and his fingers tightened around the handle of the pistol.

"Dallas...?" Patience's voice urged restraint and he clamped down hard on his temper. It wasn't smart to go up against a man with a gun, especially when you had illegally broken into his room.

"Get out of my way, Reese." Dallas settled his hand on Patience's waist, urging her forward. They crossed the room and he eased her out the door ahead of him, then stopped and turned back to Reese. "I don't want to see your face again, Junior. Not at a Circle C show or any other rodeo. Your retirement starts today."

Closing the door behind him, Dallas headed for his pickup, his hand still riding on Patience's waist. Beneath his fingers, he could feel her trembling. When he reached his truck, he turned and drew her into his arms.

"You okay?"

She held onto him, pressing herself against him, nodding against his cheek. "I got a little scared in there. I wasn't sure exactly what you were going to do."

The corner of his mouth edged up. "I wasn't exactly sure myself."

"I guess Charlie's money is gone."

"Charlie won't want the hassle of trying to pin Junior down-he doesn't have the time. I'd say it's history."

"What do you think Reese did with it?"

"He's got kin in Alabama. Probably sent some of it to them. Maybe hid the rest. I thought about beating it out of him, but I figured I'd be the one who'd end up in jail, and Reese just isn't worth it."

They drove back to the rodeo grounds. Dallas parked the truck, then walked Patience back to her trailer.

"I'm glad you took me with you," she said.

"Why? Because you were worried I'd make hamburger out of Reese?"

She smiled. "Because if I hadn't been there to stop you from making hamburger out of Reese, he probably would have shot you."

Dallas laughed. He reached out and touched her cheek. "It's nice to know you care."

Patience's expression turned serious. "I care, Dallas. Too damned much."

Dallas stared into those clear green eyes, and something tightened in his chest. Bending his head, he very gently kissed her. It was a tender sort of kiss, the kind that told her the way he felt without saying the words.

Though he hadn't meant for it to happen, he was achingly aroused by the time he broke away, wanting her as he always did.

But Charlie had to come first. "I've...um...got to go see Charlie, tell him what happened. Maybe if you're awake when I get back-"

"Shari's sleeping in the trailer and Stormy's staying in your RV. And I don't think a room at the Westward Ho is a particularly good idea at the moment."

"No, I guess it isn't." He started to turn away.

"Dallas...?"

"Yeah?"

"It's a really nice night. Maybe we could take a blanket and go for a walk up toward those buttes."

He knew he shouldn't. He needed to start easing away, begin to sever the connection. "Yeah, maybe we could. We might have to dodge a rattlesnake or two but I don't mind, if you don't."

"If you're there, I won't mind."

His chest squeezed. "I'll be back as soon as I can." He left her and went to find Charlie. Half an hour later, he returned to her trailer.

It was midnight by the time he brought her home.

CHAPTER 19.