The Cowboy Next Door (The Cash Brothers) (11 page)

“You’re right. Worrying will do more harm than good to the baby,” Dixie said.

“Once Gavin notices you’re at ease with the pregnancy, he’ll relax.”

“You’re a smart woman, Shannon. Thanks for the advice.”

“Call me anytime you want to talk. Better yet, stop by the ranch and visit.”

“I’m afraid I haven’t been a very good friend,” Dixie said. “With Christmas around the corner I’ve been putting in long hours at the gift shop and—”

“I’ve been just as busy as you.”

“Doing what?”

“Practicing on the mechanical bull.”

“Why? The Tucson rodeo isn’t until January.”

“I’m riding this Saturday in Chula Vista.”

Dixie pointed to Shannon’s calf. “What about your leg?”

“My Achilles is improving every day.”

“Is the coast clear?” Johnny’s voice drifted through the screen door off the back porch.

“The dishes are all done, no thanks to you or the rest of the boys,” Dixie said.

Johnny stepped into the room and Shannon’s heart skipped a beat at his intense stare. “Feel like taking a walk through the groves with me?”

“Sure.” Shannon ignored Dixie’s wink and followed Johnny outside. As they strolled past the barn and along the first row of pecan trees, Shannon conceded that he’d done an admirable job acting as if he’d forgotten sleeping with her at the Hacienda Motel and the heated kisses they’d share since that night. When she inched closer to him, he drifted away. Undeterred, she narrowed the gap and this time when he stepped away he almost got smacked in the face with a tree branch.

“Next Monday a harvesting company is coming out to collect the pecans,” he said.

“When your grandfather was alive, all of you helped with the harvest.”

“Then we all got jobs and went off to rodeo.”

“You couldn’t have worked in shifts?” she asked.

“We could have, but Will and Buck jumped ship and confessed that they’d always hated helping with the harvest. So we took a family vote and decided to lease the land to an agricultural company. The Nut and Fruit Grove Company’s been great to work with, but after last year’s harvest they didn’t renew their lease.”

“The economy?” Shannon asked.

He stopped next to a tree and examined the leaves on a branch. “They decided to expand their business overseas and cut back on business here in the States.”

“Who’s going to harvest this year’s crop?”

“Henderson Family Harvesters. They travel between southern Arizona and California, bringing in crops for small orchards.”

“What will you do with all the nuts?”

“I’m negotiating with a California nut factory.” They walked several more yards before he checked the leaves on another tree.

“What are you looking at?” she asked.

“Pecan weevils. The trees need to be sprayed.”

“Have you considered selling the land?” she asked.

“I promised my grandfather that I’d keep the orchard in the family.”

“Are you busy Saturday?” She swatted at an insect buzzing near her face. “I thought maybe you could watch me ride in Chula Vista.”

Startled by Shannon’s question Johnny stopped to gape at her. He hated discussing rodeo with her, because with each passing day it became tougher and tougher to pretend it didn’t matter to him that she was determined to ride bulls again when he believed she had no business rodeoing anymore. He wished he hadn’t slept with her, because making love had changed everything and he worried their relationship would never return to the way it once had been. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he wanted it to.

“What would it take to keep you from riding this weekend?” he asked.

“You surprise me,” she said.

“How’s that?”

“After the way you stood up to C.J., I never expected that you’d be unsupportive of my efforts.”

“You’re coming off a broken leg, Shannon.”

“My injured leg makes me more determined to beat C.J. in January, so I can clinch the title of Cowgirl of the Year.”

“I don’t understand you.” Was she crazy or just plain stubborn? “You’re young and you have your whole life ahead of you.”

Shannon propped her hands on her hips. “You never stop, do you?”

“Stop what?”

“Being a parent to everyone.”

That didn’t sound like a compliment. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’ve been in charge of running your siblings’ lives for so long that you don’t know when to back off and let people make their own decisions.”

Was that true? He’d guided his brothers and sister through several years without their grandparents, but he’d had no choice. And even when his mother had been alive, she hadn’t taken responsibility for her kids. When she left the farm to chase after a man, Johnny had been forced to be the parent.

“I’m sorry. I spoke out of turn,” Shannon said. “I know you care about your family and the farm and you believe you know what’s best for everyone, but...”

“Go on.” He braced himself.

“You know what I think?”

No, but she was going to tell him.

“You don’t want to give up control.”

“That’s not true.”

“And you refuse to delegate.”

“I can delegate, if I need to.” He scowled. “Stop changing the subject. We were talking about you, not me.”

“I don’t need you to look out for me, Johnny. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time.”

Shannon wasn’t his sister or cousin or niece. But what if she was his... “Would you change your mind about riding if I told you that I care about you?”

“I value your friendship—”

“It’s more than that.” Johnny stopped walking and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his finger lingering against her neck. Then he did what he’d been dying to do since she’d sat next to him at the table and had licked the sugar from the apple pie off her lips. He pulled her close and kissed her. “So?” he said when he ended the kiss.

“So what?”

“Will you scratch your ride on Saturday?”

“Is my father putting you up to this?” she asked.

“No.” Johnny grasped her hand and held it tight. “But you’re his daughter and he’s terrified of losing you.”

“If my father was that concerned he should have objected to me riding bulls way back in high school, instead of waiting until I got darn good at the sport.” She stepped past Johnny but stopped suddenly when she noticed Conway at the edge of the grove.

“Mind if I have a word with you, Johnny, before I leave?” Conway said.

“He’s all yours.” Shannon marched off.

When she was out of earshot, Conway asked, “What the hell was that all about?”

“Never mind. What do you want?”

“How come you didn’t tell us you hired an outside company to harvest the pecan crop?”

“How’d you find out? I’d planned to tell everyone today.”

“The company called Dixie at the gift shop yesterday and asked for directions to the farm. They’ll be here Monday morning.”

Damn.
Johnny had forgotten he’d given the number for Dixie’s store as a backup in case the company couldn’t reach him.

“What happened to the Nut and Fruit Grove Company?”

Why did Johnny’s other brothers not care about what went on with the farm but Conway always needed to know even though he never offered a helping hand? Shannon’s accusation that he shouldered all the worry and responsibility in his family popped into his head and instead of telling Conway to never mind again, he said, “The Fruit and Nut Grove Company canceled their lease this past spring.”

“Can they do that?”

“They can and they did.”

“I thought the company had two years left on the lease.”

“They’ve been renewing the lease a year at a time for a while.”

“And you didn’t think to tell us?”

“What does it matter now, Conway?”

“It matters because we could lose the farm.”

Pissed off that his brother had suddenly shown concern over their inheritance, he snapped. “If you’re so worried, you run the farm. You can start by spraying the trees. Weevils are eating the leaves. Once you get that done, you can trim back the branches for the winter. Then next spring, you can supervise the irrigation schedule and the mowing.” Johnny stopped talking when he noticed Conway’s bug-eyed expression.

Feeling bad that he’d jumped down his brother’s throat, he swallowed a curse and walked off. As far as Thanksgivings went—this one sucked.

Chapter Eleven

Early Saturday morning Shannon put her gear bag in the truck and started the engine. She and Johnny hadn’t spoken a word to each other since Thanksgiving two days ago and she didn’t expect him to step outside and wish her well at the rodeo today.

She’d woken feeling distracted, her thoughts centered on Johnny instead of bull riding. She understood he had a habit of telling others what to do but the sooner he accepted that their sleeping together didn’t entitle him to a say in her rodeo career, the better for both of them.

Long ago she’d accepted that her quest for a national title would be a lonely one. Her father and brothers never took time out of their busy schedules to watch her compete, which made Johnny’s cold shoulder hurt all the more, because he’d been the one person who’d stood up for her when they’d run into each other on the circuit.

When she reached the highway, she headed west toward California. She’d only driven twenty miles when the calf muscle in her left leg cramped. It seemed that no matter how much time she spent stretching the tendon, relief lasted only a short while. Twice during the trip she pulled off the road and walked off a cramp. By the time she reached the Chula Vista fairgrounds she was in a cranky mood.

Shannon found C.J. signing autographs in the Dynasty Boots publicity tent. “’Bout time you got here.” He glanced around. “Where’s lover boy?”

“He’s not coming today.” Shannon smiled for a camera then signed several programs.

“You ready to ride?” he asked.

She smiled. “You’re going to lose today.”

“No way, Douglas.” He waved at a pretty brunette.

After standing for fifteen minutes, Shannon set aside her pen. “I’ll be back later.”

“Hey, you just got here.”

If she didn’t walk, she’d end up on the ground, withering in pain. “This is payback for all the times you deserted me at the booth.” She took her gear and made her way to the cowboy ready area. She and C.J. were kicking off the rodeo with their rides.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the fine folks at Kemper Rodeo Productions would like to thank you for supporting the Christmas for Kids Rodeo here in Chula Vista, California. Your toy donations will go to needy kids in nearby communities. For more information on this worthy cause...”

Shannon closed her eyes and breathed deeply through her nose. The raw scent of animal, sweaty cowboy and hay combined with the smoky tang of barbecue made her stomach queasy.

I can do this.

Since the morning she’d woken in the hospital after her wreck on Heat Miser, she’d dreamed of this moment. She’d expected to feel some anxiety since she hadn’t ridden in almost three months, but the apprehension gnawing away at her insides was far worse than anything she’d dealt with before.

“What’s wrong?”

Startled, she opened her eyes and found C.J. staring at her. “Nothing. Why?”

He pointed to the cameramen. “It’s showtime.”

She swallowed hard and stepped into the light. C.J. slung his arm across her shoulders and they hammed it up for the cameras.

“Heard you drew Slingshot,” C.J. said.

Slingshot had been aptly named—most cowboys who rode the bull catapulted through the air before the buzzer. “I can handle him.” She carried her gear to the chute.

C.J. nodded to her leg. “You’re limping.”

“So?” She was tired of people pointing out the obvious.

He bent his head, giving the fans the impression that he was whispering sweet nothings in her ear. “You’re not ready to ride, are you?”

“Of course I’m ready.” She put on her gear, hoping that if she acted indifferent C.J. would go away. Blood pumping hard through her veins, she rubbed resin on her glove as rodeo workers loaded Slingshot into the chute. The bull reared and the cowboys scrambled for safety. A second attempt proved futile, but on the third try the bull walked into the chute.

Shannon got her first good look at Slingshot—the twenty-three-point bull was gray with black splotches.
I can do this.
Slingshot begged to differ—he kicked out with his back hoof, rattling the chute. She handed her bull rope to a rodeo hand who dropped it into the chute. Before the cowboy snagged the end of the rope to bring it up and around the bull, Slingshot stomped the bell flat.

Heart pounding harder by the second, Shannon’s ears began to buzz, but not loud enough that she didn’t catch the exchange between onlookers near the chute.

“Ain’t never seen a bull act that way.”

“He’s not givin’ an inch today, I’ll tell ya that.”

“You couldn’t get me to ride this monster if you tied three of his hooves together.”

“Nah, me neither. Somethin’ ain’t right with this one.”

A wave of nausea hit Shannon hard and she pressed her hand against her stomach, willing herself not to vomit.

“Shannon. You ready?”

Instinct propelled her forward and she scaled the chute, which was trickier than she expected with a sore Achilles tendon. Ignoring the pain spreading through her calf, she paused on the top rail and fussed with her riding glove.

Slingshot kicked out with his hooves, his eyes rolling back in his head. Sweat poured down Shannon’s temples and when she took a deep breath, her lungs pinched closed, preventing oxygen from getting in. She steadied herself with a hand on the top rail as the announcer told the fans about her and C.J.’s upcoming ride-off in January. Then he mentioned her bad wreck on Heat Miser this past August and the arena began spinning before her eyes.

“Shannon?”

Her brain told her to release her grip on the rail but for the life of her she couldn’t let go and stared at her hand as if it belonged to someone else.

“You okay?”

Move, damn it, move!
Nothing.

“Give her some room, guys!”

The cowboys manning the chute backed away, leaving Shannon alone at the top of the rail.

You can do this
.
Lift your leg.

Before she gathered the courage to move, Slingshot had grown impatient and reared, swinging his head toward Shannon. Stark fear gripped her insides and she released the rail so quickly she lost her balance and crashed to the ground. Stunned she sat in the dirt, heart pounding.

Two cowboys hauled her to her feet and they both spoke at once. She saw their mouths move, but she couldn’t hear a word they said.

Then suddenly her eyesight dimmed and she knew if she didn’t get out of there, she’d faint. Leaving her bull rope behind she took her duffel bag and walked away, her gaze glued to the exit sign.

* * *

J
OHNNY
PRESSED
THE
PHONE
against his ear and stared down the drive—as if Shannon’s truck would appear any second. “How’d she do?”

“You’re not going to believe this,” Porter said.

Johnny had sent his brother to Chula Vista to keep an eye on Shannon. Even though he’d told himself nothing would go wrong today, for his own peace of mind, he’d wanted someone he trusted at the rodeo—just in case. “Believe what?”

“Shannon scratched.”

Stunned, Johnny didn’t say a word.

“One minute she was ready to get on the bull, the next she dropped off the rails and walked right out of the arena.”

Shoving a hand through his hair, Johnny paced to the end of the porch. Had Shannon lied about her leg being healed enough to compete? “Was she limping?”

“I didn’t notice.”

“What do you mean you didn’t notice? You said she walked away.”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“Porter, I asked you to—”

“Hold up, hoss. I did like you said. I just got a little distracted there at the end when—”

“Don’t tell me Veronica Patriot was there.”

“No, I’m done with that woman.”

Johnny wasn’t positive his youngest brother had learned his lesson after the rodeo groupie used him to get back at a former boyfriend. “Shannon walked out and no one tried to stop her?”

“’Fraid not. By the way, I picked up her bull rope.”

For Shannon to leave the rope behind was a sure sign she’d been rattled. “Are you still at the rodeo?”

“Yep.”

“Why didn’t you follow Shannon?”

“All you said I had to do was keep an eye on her at the rodeo and report back to you on how she did.”

“I gotta go. Thanks for calling.” Johnny shoved his cell phone back into his pocket.

Why had Shannon scratched? Was it because of her leg or had she finally come to her senses and admitted her best bull riding days were behind her? He checked his watch—2:00 p.m. He’d have to wait to find out the answers to his questions. In the meantime, he’d work with Clive’s newest cutting horse, Bear—named for being a bear to work with.

Before Clive left on his cruise, he’d told Johnny he needed the horse trained by the time he got back from Hawaii. He planned to sell the horse to Gary McGovern, a Colorado rancher. If the man was impressed with Bear, he’d told Clive he’d buy several more horses from the Triple D. The boss was counting on Johnny to come through for him, but contrary to the breed’s reputation of possessing a well-balanced temperament, Bear loved chasing cattle—without a rider. He had to teach the stubborn sorrel to accept a saddle and a rider all in a week’s time.

Inside the barn, he led Bear from his stall and hitched him to the center post. The horse didn’t like being tied but Johnny intended to make Bear earn his freedom. Clive had used an old-style general-purpose pad filled with deer hair, so Johnny decided to switch things up and try a Navajo saddle blanket made of wool and double the thickness. He placed the blanket on top of Bear and the horse attempted to rear, but stopped when the rope pulled taut. The blanket fell and when Johnny attempted to straighten it, Bear sidestepped and stomped his hoof. Undeterred, Johnny held the blanket in place.

When Bear stopped rebelling and allowed the blanket to remain on his back, Johnny fetched the saddle. He moved the front cinch, back cinch, breast collar and stirrup out of the way. Standing on the horse’s left side, he gently but firmly set the saddle on top of the blanket. The horse tensed when Johnny secured the cinch. After Bear stood still for a while, he loosened the cinch, removed the saddle, then groomed him.

He repeated the process over and over until Bear no longer tensed when Johnny placed the blanket and saddle on him. To reward him for his progress, Johnny fetched a bucket of oats then walked Bear outside to the corral. The horse pranced, stopping every few minutes to eat oats. Johnny returned to the barn to put away the grooming kit when he heard the sound of truck tires. Shannon parked in front of the house. Other than the normal hitch in her gait as she climbed the porch steps, she appeared fine.

When she opened the front door, Hank stepped outside to greet her. After ruffling his fur the pair entered the house and Shannon slammed the door hard enough to rattle the windows.

Johnny wondered what to do next. Should he check on her or give her time to cool off? He voted for checking on her after he took care of Bear. He unsaddled the horse and walked him to his stall, then made sure he had fresh water and feed before going up to the house and ringing the bell.

The door opened. “Go away.”

Shannon’s puffy eyes and blotchy complexion startled him. “You look like hell.”

Self-consciously she ran her fingertips through her shower-dampened hair. “I’m not in the mood for company.”

“Too bad.” He stepped into the foyer and locked gazes with her.

Shannon was too tired to go nine rounds with Johnny. “Leave me alone.”

“What happened in Chula Vista?”

Realizing Johnny wasn’t going to honor her wishes and get lost, she retreated to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of iced tea, cursing when she spilled the liquid and it dripped over the edge of the counter.

“I’ll get that.” Johnny reached for the paper towels hanging from the dispenser on the wall.

“No!” She pushed his hand out of the way and awkwardly bent down to wipe the floor. “I can do it,” she insisted, smearing the tea in a circle. When she stood and took a step toward the trash can, her leg buckled and she gasped.

“Shannon—”

She jabbed her finger in his direction. “I can do it, damn it, I can!” Tears burned her eyes.
Don’t cry. Don’t you dare cry.
The tears came and no matter how fast she wiped them away, more fell. Like a battery-operated toy slowly losing its juice until it came to a complete stop, the anger sputtered out of her, leaving her with a gaping hole inside her chest.

Johnny rubbed the pad of his thumb over her cheek, smearing the moisture across her skin. Her defenses crumbled and she drowned in his blue eyes. “I can do this,” she whispered, as if repeating the mantra would somehow make it true.

He hugged her and a voice in Shannon’s head insisted she didn’t need his sympathy or interference—another voice argued that she did.

She buried her face in the front of his shirt and held her breath, hoping a lack of oxygen would smother her cries. Fat chance. The emotional toll years of hard work, pain, frustration, uncertainty, failure and achievement had taken on her erupted inside her.

The first sob crawled through her body and escaped her mouth in a silent scream. Johnny’s hug tightened as if he, too, feared she’d shatter into a million pieces. Her body shook with the force of her sobs and her legs gave out. Johnny sank to the floor with her and leaned against the refrigerator.

She sat between his legs, tucked against his body. At last she felt safe from the world. Her tears went on forever and she had no idea how much time had passed when her wails faded to silent hiccups.

“You ready to talk?” he asked.

Talking wouldn’t help. Nothing could change the past or the course she’d set upon.

“I can’t help you unless I know what’s wrong.”

Her heart melted. For as long as she’d known Johnny, he’d been the man everyone depended on in a crisis. He never doubted his ability to handle a problem—he could fix just about anything or find someone who could.

If only sheer willpower could solve her crisis.

“I can sit here all night even if my butt grows numb.” The hand on her back moved in a slow circle.