One last entry caught her eye.

I had to tell Sam. I'll never forget the look on his face when I said I had up and married Whit Whitcomb down at the county courthouse that morning. I told him I was leaving with Whit, going back to live on his farm. I'll never forget how my heart just purely shattered when I saw tears in Sam Starling's beautiful green eyes.

The journal picked up a few days later. Whit and Addie left that same afternoon, taking the train back to Lawton, Oklahoma, and his farm on the outskirts of town. Addie never mentioned Sam Starling's name again in the final pages of the journal, but there seemed a wistful note in her words toward the end. Patience wondered how long it had taken her to forget him.

She hoped that Addie and Whit were happy.

She was sorry when the journal ended. She felt as if she, too, had suffered the loss of a beloved friend.

Charlie sat in the chair behind his desk in the production trailer. Usually, he kept the place pretty neat, but tonight papers were strewn over the desk and the trash can needed to be emptied. He'd get around to it, he told himself, but lately he couldn't seem to concentrate on the little things with all the trouble swirling around him.

After Junior had stolen the money in Cottonwood Creek, he'd bitten the bullet, called the bank, and begun the process of taking out a second mortgage on the ranch. Annie hadn't wanted him to, but once he'd explained it was that or sell some land, she'd pitched in and done the paperwork.

His credit was good and the ranch was worth a pretty good chunk of money, so it wouldn't take long to get the loan completed and collect the funds. He'd figured if he could just hold on until things smoothed out again...

But that hadn't happened and now with the fine it didn't look like it was going to. He hated the idea of running from his troubles, but a man was dead. If they didn't catch the bastard who was causing him grief, it just might happen again. Maybe next time it would be Dallas, or someone who worked for him. Charlie couldn't bear the thought.

He leaned back in his chair and picked up his cell phone. For the past half hour, he'd been trying to work up the courage to call Annie. But he didn't feel any better now than he had back then.

He punched in Annie's number. He hadn't told her about the man who'd been killed in the fire. He didn't want to tell her now. He had always tried to protect her from the harsher side of life, but in his heart he knew she was every bit as tough as he was. Maybe tougher.

"Hi, honey," he said into the phone.

She must have heard something in his voice because her breathing hitched on the other end of the line. "Don't tell me it's more bad news."

"I wish I could tell you it wasn't, darlin', but I'm afraid it is." He went on to tell her about the man who had been killed and his decision to forfeit the rest of the rodeos he was scheduled to produce this year.

There was a long pause on the opposite end of the phone. "Jack Stiles and Lem Watkins gonna be able to take on the rest of the shows?"

"I don't know. I imagine they're pretty-well booked, but they're both fairly greedy. I figure they'll find a way."

"We'll have to give back the money we've already been paid."

"I know. That's one of the reasons I called." He took a shaky breath. "I want you to phone Mal Sullivan. Tell Sully we'll sell him that chunk of land he's been wantin'."

"Oh, Charlie, no."

"Look, honey. In a way this might be good. I'm getting' tired of travelin' all the time, bein' away from home so damned much. The money from the sale will give us a cushion. We won't have to go through with that second mortgage and I can make some sort of settlement, resolve that lawsuit with those folks in Silver Springs. Still ought to be enough left so I can stay home and start building up the ranch."

"You told Sully you'd never sell a square foot of the land your great granddaddy worked so hard for. Deep down, I know you still feel that way."

"Maybe I do, but things are different now. Like I said, we could use that money to improve the ranch. It'd be good to spend more time there. Maybe if I'd been home, tending to business, we wouldn't have lost those cows."

"Maybe not." She sighed into the phone. "At least we haven't lost any more."

"How 'bout Sully? They haven't got to him again, have they?"

"Not that I know of."

"Well, that's somethin', I guess."

"You still plannin' to do the rodeo in Albuquerque?"

"Got to. There isn't time to get someone else. It's a big show and I've given my word."

"But after that, you'll be home."

"Absolutely. Believe me, I can't wait to get there."

"You take care of yourself, Charlie Carson. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you."

"I love you, honey."

"I love you, too."

Charlie hung up the phone. Annie had never been one to use the word love overmuch. It was a sign of how worried she was about him. Charlie searched his memory as he had a thousand times, trying to figure out who might have grievance enough against him to try to ruin his life, but no name came to mind.

Charlie sighed into the silence inside the trailer and hoisted himself to his feet. He might be quitting the rodeo business but until he did, there was still plenty of work to be done. Charlie tugged his hat a little lower and headed out of the trailer.

"You ready?" Dallas poked his head through the door of Patience's RV. The rodeo, a night show, was over and he was taking her out for something to eat.

She was a little surprised he had asked her to go. The summer was close to over. She would be leaving next week, right after the final performance in Albuquerque on Sunday afternoon, and knowing their time together was nearly at an end, Dallas had been easing away from her, trying to put some distance between them.

At least he had been until the fire. Since then, he'd been protective of both her and Charlie, keeping an eye on both of them as much as he possibly could.

Unfortunately, his riding had suffered for it. During the saddle bronc riding tonight, he had been pitched off a horse named Locomotive and he was limping a little again.

Patience told herself not to worry. Dallas was a cowboy. Injuries were part of the sport.

"I'm almost ready," she told him. "Just a quick second and I'll be right there."

Earlier in the day and for the past half hour, she had been making a final review of her thesis, getting ready to send it off on Monday morning. It should have felt momentous, an accomplishment that had finally reached culmination after years of hard work, but with all that had been going on around her, she was just glad to finally be done.

Shutting down her computer, she grabbed her cowboy hat off the hook above her bunk and headed for the door. She'd gotten so used to wearing it, she wondered if she'd miss it once she got back home.

"I asked Charlie to come with us, but he says he's got some work to do." Dallas flicked a glance toward the production trailer, saw the light still burning inside. "The sheriff's got a couple of deputies patrolling the area. After the news he delivered this morning, I hired a couple of extra security guards. Charlie thinks they work for the fairgrounds and I didn't tell him any different. You know how he is."

"I think it's a good idea. If whoever started that fire comes back, maybe the guards will spot him."

"Yeah, that's kinda what I was thinking. I also phoned Roy Greenwood in Las Vegas and asked him if he knew a good private detective. He called a guy named Carter Maddox. Maddox is flying out here from Vegas tomorrow afternoon."

"Charlie won't like it."

"I'm not so sure. I'm betting he's tired of sitting around waiting for the other shoe to drop. I think he'll be glad to finally be doing something positive. I only wish I'd done it sooner."

Dallas walked her over to his truck and helped her climb in, then went around to his own side, slid behind the wheel, and cranked up the engine. It was dark outside, just a quarter moon. Patience tried not to think how the smoke and fire last night had filled the sky and made the moon glow blood red.

The big Dodge rolled along the asphalt strip of highway toward town. With only a few cars on the road, darkness seemed to surround them, a pool of black broken only by the twin beams of the pickup's headlights.

Patience looked over at Dallas, determined to turn her thoughts in a different direction. "So how's Stormy holding up?" She had been worried about him ever since he had come to talk to her about Shari.

"Okay, I guess. I think he'll feel better once Shari and Button have left to go home."

"I can see how hard this is on him. I think he really loves her."

Dallas just grunted. "Doesn't seem to bother Shari much."

"It bothers her. She loves him, too, but she doesn't want the same kind of life Stormy wants. You can't blame her for that."

She was reminding him of his own change of career. He hadn't wanted to be a doctor. He simply couldn't be happy in that role. "No, I guess not."

They pulled up in front of the Golden Spur Steakhouse and went in. The place wasn't fancy, just a room full of wooden tables with paper place mats and little red candles in the middle. But the steaks were supposed to be big and juicy and she was surprisingly hungry.

And the place was full of old friends. Blue Cody and Reno Garcia sat with Bonnie Sweeney and Ruth Collins. Patience and Dallas stopped to say hello before sitting down at a table not far away.

They ordered a couple of New York strips that tasted pretty good, a little tough maybe but the baked potato smothered in butter made up for it. When they finished, they didn't linger. She knew Dallas was worried about Charlie and wanted to stay as close as he could.

"We'll see you guys later," Dallas called over to the group of friends.

Blue waved at Dallas and winked at Patience. Dallas tossed him a look, jerked his hat a little lower, and kept on walking. They had just stepped out of the restaurant, headed for the lot where the truck was parked, when a loud clap sounded in the darkness. Just as they walked onto the porch, a chunk of wood splintered away from the doorjamb, missing them by inches.

"Get down!" Dallas shouted, shoving her to the ground, sprawling full length on top of her. Another shot ricocheted off the plaster at the corner of the building. "We've got to find some cover." Grabbing her hand, he tugged her forward. "Let's go!"

Keeping low, they edged over behind the low brick wall that surrounded the parking lot. Her whole body was shaking, her mouth so dry she couldn't speak. Dallas molded himself protectively around her and she could feel the tension in the muscles across his chest. He jerked off his hat and peered over the top of the wall, scanning the darkness at the edge of the parking lot, trying to locate their assailant, but there was no sign of him.

A noise sounded. Someone running, then a car door closed somewhere down the block.

Dallas sprang to his feet as an engine roared to life. "Stay here!" Tires squealed as the car sped away and Dallas raced after it.

Several minutes passed. When Dallas finally returned, he was breathing hard, a grim look on his face. "He's gone. It was a dark-colored sedan but I couldn't make out what model. I tried to get the license number but I only got the first two letters, A Z something."

Her knees felt wobbly as he helped her to her feet and his arm tightened around her. "Are you all right?"

She stared past him into the darkness but there was nothing there to see. "I can't believe someone was shooting at us."

Dallas turned, his gaze following hers. "Yeah. The question is, why?" Keeping an arm around her waist, he guided her back to the front door of the restaurant. Blue Cody and his group were just walking out.

"You guys still here?" Blue said.

"The good news is we're still breathing. Take a look at this, Blue." Dallas motioned toward the door and the Navajo cowboy turned to see the bullet hole left in the jamb.

Reno whistled and Blue stared in disbelief. "Somebody shot at you?"

"Yeah."

"I'll go call nine-one-one." Ruth hurried back inside the restaurant.

Reaching into the pocket of his jeans, Blue pulled out his pocketknife, flipped open the blade, and started digging into the wooden jamb. He dug out a bent chunk of lead and held it up in the light from the Golden Spur sign above the door.

"Looks like a rifle. Big caliber. Thirty-ought-six, maybe."

"Let's see if we can find the casing."

Patience waited with Bonnie and Ruth for the sheriff to arrive while the men searched for the shell casing from the bullets that had been fired. They returned a little while later, frustrated and shaking their heads.

"He must have picked them up before he left."

"Why do you think he was shooting at you?" Bonnie asked, looking from one of them to the other.

"He must have been after Dallas." Patience caught his hand and held on tight. "All of these attacks seem to be focused on Charlie. Dallas is the same as Charlie's son. If the man is after some sort of retribution for something he believes Charlie did, killing Dallas would be the perfect revenge."

Other patrons filed out of the restaurant, unaware of the incident that had just occurred. Loyally, the rodeo riders waited with Dallas and Patience for the sheriff to arrive, and a patrol car pulled up to the curb a few minutes later.

As briefly as possible, Dallas explained what had happened while the deputy, an officer named Horn, took notes.

"We've all been briefed on the Carson case," the deputy said, a dark-skinned man who looked to be at least part Native American. "I'll let Sheriff Kendall know about this. He'll want to examine the scene himself." He folded his notebook closed. "He's a big rodeo fan. He's taken a personal interest in this one."

Patience felt Dallas's hand at her waist. "We'll be back at the rodeo grounds if he wants us."

"Keep your eyes open," the officer warned. "It looks like this guy means business. I'd keep a low profile until we can nail this joker down."

"That's good advice. Thanks, Deputy."

"We'll follow you back," Blue said.

Dallas just nodded, grateful, it seemed, to have a man he could trust at his back. Scanning the streets as they went, they drove off toward the fairgrounds.

"Charlie's going to go crazy when he hears," Patience said.

"I wish I didn't have to tell him."

"You've got to, Dallas. He might be in danger himself."

"I know." He didn't say anything more the rest of the way and neither did Patience, but her mind kept returning to the sound of gunfire, and she couldn't help thinking how close she and Dallas had come to being killed.

CHAPTER 21.

He wanted her to go back to Boston. He thought she should simply pack and leave.

"Look, you're going home, anyway," Dallas said. "What difference does it make if you leave a week early? Once you're in Boston, you'll be safe."

"No."