Desert Heat by Kat Martin

animal’s attention, working to circle the bulls away from the gate.
    One of them, a massive white, banana-horn bull charged at Cy, and Dallas stepped between them, flashing his hat to draw the beast away. As soon as the gate was clear, one of the cowboys pulled it open.
    “Go!” Dallas commanded and Patience ran unsteadily in that direction. She stumbled as she made it through and Wes McCauley caught her. He picked her up and carried her away from the pen and Charlie fell in beside them.
    “You okay?” Charlie asked worriedly.
    She nodded, twisting her head back toward the pen. “Did the guys get out of there all right?”
    “They’re fine,” Wes said.
    “God, Charlie, I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. The platform was crowded. Someone walked past and I guess we must have bumped into each other. One minute I was standing there and the next I was lying on the ground.” She didn’t tell him that for an instant up there she imagined someone had pushed her. It was just her paranoia kicking in. She had Tyler to thank for that.
    Charlie looked back toward the platform. “They don’t have the best setup here. I’ve always been afraid something like this might happen. You sure you’re okay?”
    “Just a little shook up. And I guess I hit my head.”
    Charlie nodded to Wes, who set her down on a saddle blanket someone spread out on the grass. Dallas caught up with them and knelt beside her. For the first time she noticed the Ace bandage wrapped around his shoulder. Half the riders in the show rode with some sort of bandage or sling. Like Dallas, it didn’t seem to faze them. Rodeo was an extreme sport. The contestants knew it. They considered injuries part of the game.
    “The ambulance isn’t here yet,” Dallas said. “But it’s due any minute.” Every show had an ambulance parked behind the chutes during the performance.
    “I don’t need an ambulance. I already feel like a fool. I hit my head, but I’m sure it’s nothing serious.”
    “Charlie’s been after them for years to put up some kind of a railing. Most of us have rodeoed here before so we’re used to it. What happened wasn’t your fault.”
    He reached up and slid his fingers into her hair, probing the lump at the back of her head. She winced at a quick shot of pain.
    “Pretty good-size goose egg back there. You got a headache?”
    “No.”
    He caught her chin and looked into the pupils of her eyes. “Your eyes don’t look dilated. Are you dizzy? Sick to your stomach?”
    “I told you I’m fine.”
    “Can you remember what happened?”
    “Yes, like an idiot, I had a run-in with a pen full of two-thousand-pound bulls.”
    Dallas chuckled. He studied her from beneath the brim of his hat. She could tell he wanted to say something but was having trouble spitting it out.
    “Patience…I, um…About what happened at the bar…Last night I was the one who acted like an idiot. I behaved like an ass and I’m sorry. I just…” For an instant, he glanced away. “My riding’s off. I was pissed at myself. I drank too much—not that it’s any excuse. Whatever the reason, I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I don’t believe in treating a woman that way, and I give you my word it won’t happen again. I hope you’ll accept my apology.”
    She was so surprised that for a moment, she couldn’t think of anything to say. Dallas Kingman apologizing? Better yet, he looked like he actually meant it.
    She remembered the way he’d treated her and wasn’t sure she should let him off so easy. Then she thought about the danger he and Cy had put themselves in just now to help her.
    In the end, she just smiled. “I guess, after the way you jumped in with those bulls to get me out, we can call it even.”
    Dallas smiled, too. God, he had the most beautiful smile. “We kind of got off on the wrong foot, you and me. Maybe we could start over.”
    “Maybe we could.”
    Dallas stuck out his hand. “Friends?”
    Patience fit her more slender