Desert Heat Read Online Free PDF Page A

experience had been interesting, to say the least, though her Oklahoma relatives were as different from the Boston side of the family as maple syrup and molasses.
    Patience had spent the night with Cousin Betty and her husband, George, borrowed the journal, and set out the next day for Texas, hoping the information between the faded tapestry covers would bring a new perspective to her work.
    Patience thought of the journal that morning as she turned in the rental car at a Hertz drop-off station, then walked over to where the man with the ’94 Chevy pickup and eighteen-foot travel trailer waited at the curb with the engine running.
    The owner, a short, stout, gray-haired man with several gold teeth, turned off the motor and led her back to the trailer for a quick inspection. It was immaculately clean and well cared for, she saw, with a cozy little kitchen and dinette area, a bathroom with a minuscule shower, and a set of bunk beds down at one end. The pickup appeared to be in equally good condition, though what she knew about cars wouldn’t fill the toe of her boot.
    “They both look great,” she said to the owner, Mr. Nelson.
    “Always kept her in good condition. You do the same, she’ll get you where you want to go.”
    Patience handed him a cashier’s check in return for the vehicle pink slips. Mr. Nelson gave her the operating manuals and a quick lesson in how to fill and empty the holding tanks. Once he was finished, she opened the door and climbed behind the wheel. It wasn’t big as pickups went, only a half ton, not one of the heavy diesels, but sitting there in the seat, it felt like an eighteen-wheeler.
    “Did a little rodeoing myself in my younger years,” Mr. Nelson said, watching her from the passenger side of the vehicle as she gave him a ride back to his house. She had seen the rodeo sticker on the bumper but she didn’t ask him about it. She needed to get on the road.
    “You ever pulled a trailer before?” he asked, sensing her nervousness.
    “No, but I’m sure it won’t be a problem.” She didn’t mention she had never driven a pickup truck, either.
    Mr. Nelson cast her a look, then began to give her tips on handling the rig. By the time they reached his house, her palms had stopped sweating and she had begun to feel a little more in control.
    “You take care now, you hear?” Mr. Nelson said through the passenger window as he climbed out of the truck.
    “Thanks, I’ll do that.” Taking a calming breath, Patience stepped on the gas and headed for the highway leading south to Llano and her rendezvous with Shari, praying Shari would approve of her purchase.
     
    It was hot in Texas that first day of June, hotter than Patience was used to. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and she figured the temperature had to be in the nineties. The collar of her long-sleeved western shirt scratched the back of her neck and her new jeans chafed the insides of her thighs. She cranked up the air-conditioning and settled herself in the slow lane, grateful for the big ugly mirrors on the side of the truck that helped her keep the trailer inside the painted lines.
    She was doing okay, driving a little slower than she wanted, but beginning to get the feel of the vehicle. Then she hit a long, steep incline and had to pass a big rig in front of her. Her pulse kicked into gear and her palms started sweating again. As she pulled up next to the big truck and trailer, it seemed like only inches separated the two of them. Once her trailer cleared, she pulled back in front of the truck into the slow lane where she felt a little safer.
    Unfortunately, when she glanced down at the temperature gauge, she saw that the dial was leaning hard into the red.
    “Oh, God.” Searching the distance, all she saw was cactus and desert and vast stretches of bright blue sky. She sighed with relief as she spotted a wide place in the road where she could safely pull over. Slowing the pickup, she drove off to the side, and turned off the