For the next hour she listened, until he packed up and gave the homeless man taking a nap on the sidewalk nearby the crumpled bills and coins passersby had tossed in his guitar case. She followed him back to the hotel and watched him place a collect call from the lobby phone.

“It’s done.”

What’s done? His gig? Could what she’d seen be called a gig?

He slammed down the phone and Joy ducked into the ladies’ room before he saw her. She freshened up, confused about what she’d witnessed, then went to meet Dylan. He was waiting for her by the car.

She stuck on a smile. “How was your gig?”

“Fine.” He dumped his gear in the back and sank into the passenger seat.

“Did you have a good turnout?” she asked, starting the car. She cranked the AC. The car was blistering hot and stuffy, and the air stale.

“No.” Dylan flipped back his seat and dropped his cap over his face. “I’m exhausted. Wake me when we get to Amarillo.”

“Seat belt,” she said, unable to prevent the hint of panic that slipped into her tone when he hadn’t automatically clipped in.

Dylan didn’t notice, or chose not to comment. He roughly yanked the belt across his torso and slammed the latch into place. “Happy?”

And relieved. “Yes.”

Dylan might be throwing attitude, but after what she’d seen in the plaza and heard in the lobby, she decided not to call him out on it. She did wish that she knew why he performed on that street, and why that street in particular. Why didn’t he tell her his plans? Was he ashamed? His voice sounded amazing. He played incredibly. It wasn’t as if he needed the money, so why did he do it?

Something more was going on with him, and she suspected that was at the root of his attitude issues.

The Beetle’s cab wasn’t cooling fast enough for Joy’s liking. She debated lowering the top, but Dylan wouldn’t be able to sleep. He’d end up grumpier than he was.

She fanned her blouse and tugged her shorts hem. She was melting and the clothes she’d selected to wear today were beyond uncomfortable. The material scratched and didn’t breathe. How had Judy tolerated wearing this style? Thank goodness Joy had to wear them only for a short ten days. She had purchased her clothes from vintage shops in Los Angeles solely for this trip and planned to donate them as soon as she settled in New York. But what she wouldn’t give to slip into the cutoff jean shorts and T-shirt she had stashed in the trunk. She’d feel much more comfortable in this miserable, dry heat.