The Cowboy Next Door (The Cash Brothers) (12 page)

Keeping her face snuggled against the side of his neck, she said, “I scratched today.”

“Porter told me.”

“Porter?”

“I asked him to go to Chula Vista to—”

“Spy on me?” She smacked his chest with her hand and he grunted.

“I wanted to make sure someone you knew was there in case—”

“I got hurt.” She wanted to rail at Johnny for treating her like a child, but she couldn’t summon the energy.

“I figured you wouldn’t call me after your ride and I wanted to know how you did,” he said.

“Now you know.”

“You’re pushing yourself too hard too soon. Your leg isn’t ready—”

“My leg hurt but I could have ridden through the pain.”

His fingers tightened against her shoulder. “Then what made you scratch?”

“Fear.” The word bounced off the walls, echoing through the kitchen.

“Are you getting enough sleep?” he asked.

“No.”

“Dreams?”

“Nightmares.”

“How bad?”

“Pretty bad.” She sighed. “I thought they’d go away after I began practicing on the bucking machine, but they haven’t.”

Johnny tipped her chin until their gazes connected. “What are you afraid of?”

This wasn’t supposed to become a therapy session, but she was desperate for answers anywhere she could find them. “I’m afraid to do the one thing I’m good at—ride bulls.”

“And the nightmares?”

“Began after my wreck on Heat Miser.”

“What happens in them?” he asked.

I die.
“It’s always the same thing—Heat Miser throws me and then he charges.”

“Do you remember him stomping your leg?”

“No.”

“What about the paramedics putting you into the rescue truck?”

She shook her head.

“I heard somewhere that the brain blocks out the pain so the body can heal,” he said.

“And then after I’m healed the brain unleashes the demons to stalk me at night?”

“Can I ask you a question without you getting defensive?” he said.

“Maybe.”

“Is the title of Cowgirl of the Year more important than your health and possibly your life?”

She opened her mouth then shook her head. How could she explain something she barely comprehended herself? “Never mind. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

“I need to win the title because it will make up for all that I lost when my mother walked out of my life.”

“A trophy won’t replace your mother, Shannon.”

“I won’t ever forgive her for abandoning me, but the trophy makes up for the pain of knowing she doesn’t love me.” Without a mother to guide her, it was no surprise she’d become a tomboy. Rodeo had given her a way to fit in with her brothers and feel as if she belonged in their family. As she grew older and became better at rodeo, she’d been forced to look to bigger challenges to smother the pain.

“I started this journey years ago, Johnny. I have to finish it.” Only after winning the title could she finally put her mother’s abandonment behind her and move on with her life. She twisted in his lap and stared him in the eye.

“Shannon...” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “This isn’t a good idea.”

“Shh...” She pressed her finger to his lips. “Let us be, Johnny. Right here. Right now. Just us.” She pressed her palm to the back of his neck and coaxed his mouth toward hers. When he didn’t resist, she relaxed her guard and allowed herself to feel alive again, knowing that in Johnny’s arms she’d forget her fears. Forget scratching at the Chula Vista rodeo. Forget the demons that haunted her day and night.

He stood abruptly, tugging her to her feet. Then he swept her into his arms and carried her upstairs where he tumbled to the bed with her, his mouth seeking hers with urgency. Clothes flew in every direction, and then he took his sweet time teasing her before he sheathed himself.

Wrapping her legs around his waist, she urged him closer and he took her to a place where there were no rodeos and no bulls.

* * *

A
SOFT
BREEZE
buffeting his shoulder woke Johnny. He rolled his head on the pillow and discovered the air was Shannon’s breath against the side of his neck.

This afternoon in her bed proved that the first time he’d made love with her at the Hacienda Motel hadn’t been a fluke. He’d lost himself so completely in her that not once during the experience had he thought about her as his sister’s best friend or the little girl he’d looked out for at the farm.

He studied her face in the fading sunlight. The dark circles beneath her eyes concerned him. He’d been surprised that she’d admitted to having nightmares and he felt a powerful urge to protect her from those demons. He’d fought all kinds of battles for his brothers and sister—battles with teachers, coaches, employers, friends and irate fathers, but he’d never had to fight an enemy he couldn’t see.

The fact that Shannon intended to compete in Tucson scared the hell out of him. Along with that fear, his heart ached for the pain she’d kept locked inside her all these years as a result of her mother’s abandonment. Johnny’s sister had been fortunate to have a grandmother to fill the role of mother when Aimee Cash had come and gone in their lives, but Shannon had had no one.

Until her confession, he hadn’t given a whole lot of thought to his own father’s abandonment. He suspected the driving need behind his insistence on taking care of others was a direct result of wanting that same attention for himself from his biological father. As he grew older, assuming the role of father toward his siblings came naturally, but he admitted there were times through the years when he’d just wanted to be a brother and not have to worry about anyone but himself.

If Shannon was determined to go after a national title there was nothing he or anyone else could do to stop her, but if she didn’t find a way to conquer her fear, the title would remain out of reach and she’d put herself at greater risk each time she competed. His chest tightened at the thought of anything happening to her. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment, place or time when concern over her getting hurt evolved into feelings far deeper and richer. If the fear he felt for her wasn’t rooted in love, then he didn’t know what love was. He wanted to confess his feelings, but how could he when he finally understood what was pushing her to compete?

Maybe he couldn’t stop her from competing against Rodriguez in Tucson, but he refused to stand by and watch her get hurt again. The only way he knew how to keep her safe was to help her conquer her fear of bulls.

Chapter Twelve

Shannon awoke from a deep sleep to the
yip, yip, yip
sounds of the Gila woodpecker outside her bedroom window. She didn’t need to open her eyes to know she was alone in the bed. She breathed in Johnny’s scent, which lingered on the sheets, then stretched her arms above her head. She was sore in places that had never been sore from all her years of riding bulls.

She rolled onto her side and pressed her face into Johnny’s pillow. She didn’t want to leave the bed. After the first round of lovemaking they’d eaten dinner and returned to her room, waking twice during the night to make love. At four in the morning, they’d shared a bowl of cereal in bed and then had fallen asleep in each other’s arms. And amazingly her sleep had been free of nightmares.

Although neither of them had spoken the words out loud, Shannon had repeated “I love you” over and over in her head while they’d kissed. Falling in love with Johnny hadn’t surprised her one tiny bit—he’d been a part of her life for so long that it only made sense that the affection she’d held for him through the years had evolved into a richer and deeper emotion.

What had caught her by surprise was her desperate desire to please him. The realization scared her senseless and prevented her from confessing her love. Admitting her true feelings would give Johnny too much power over her. Then if he asked her not to compete in Tucson, she’d cave in and withdraw from the event.

The Gila woodpecker continued to serenade her, so she gave up on sleep. The first step of the day was the most painful, even after she stretched her calf muscle. Today was no different as she limped across the room and stood in front of the window overlooking the barn and corral.

Johnny was saddling Bear in the round pen. The sight of him calmed her until she glanced at the mechanical bull behind the barn, and then she shuddered. Come January she’d face C.J. in their final ride-off and her fears would have to take a backseat to beating the cowboy and winning the title.

When Johnny attempted to place the saddle on Bear, the horse reared. Johnny stood his ground—cowboy and horse locked in a battle of wills.

You’ll never win this one, Bear.

Johnny set the saddle down, pulled a horse treat from his pocket and placed it on the saddle before moving away. Bear sniffed the leather seat, ate the treat and stomped the saddle with his front hoof before bolting across the pen.

Shannon laughed and right then Johnny glanced toward the house and his gaze connected with hers. Her heart sighed when he touched his finger to the brim of his hat and dipped his head.

She hurried into the bathroom to shower and dress for the day. Afterward she packed a picnic lunch of crackers and cheese. She added a bottle of wine she found in the pantry, napkins, a knife, a wine opener and bottles of water, then set the cooler by the front door while she fetched a quilt from the linen closet upstairs. She called for Hank and they left the house.

“Nice boots,” Johnny said when she stopped at the corral.

“Thanks.” She was secretly pleased he liked her fancy black Ariat boots with sapphire stitching, beaded embroidery and a silk-screen design over the toe of the boot.

“Rock’n’roll sass with a little cowgirl class.”

Feeling shy after spending the night naked in his arms, she said, “These are my date-night boots.”

“Are you going on a date?”

“Depends.”

“On...?”

“Whether or not you’d care to join me for a picnic.”

He glanced at his watch. “At ten o’clock in the morning?”

She nodded to the horse. “It doesn’t look like you’re making much progress with Bear. Maybe you both need a break.”

“Insulting the horse trainer won’t earn you any points.”

“C’mon, Johnny. It’s a beautiful day.” The temperature had already reached sixty-five and the sun shone bright in a cloudless sky. “Don’t make me take off my date-night boots.”

“Is this a horseback-ride picnic or a truck-tailgate picnic?”

“Tailgate. Hank would like to join us.”

Johnny rubbed the hound’s ears. “If it’s all right with you, we’ll picnic out at the windmill. I need to replace one of the vanes.”

“Sure.”

“Take my truck,” he said. “The keys are on the kitchen table.”

While Johnny put Bear’s saddle in the barn, Shannon went to the cabin and found the keys resting next to an envelope from a bank. The word
Urgent
had been stamped on the front. Was it a credit card bill that Johnny hadn’t paid, or a notice pertaining to the pecan farm?

It’s none of your business.

Maybe not, but after making love last night weren’t they—

A couple?

She’d fallen in love with Johnny but that didn’t mean he felt the same way about her. Doubts crowded her thoughts. What if he’d made love to her out of pity? Had he been her consolation prize after an embarrassing afternoon at the rodeo? The cabin door opened and Johnny caught her red-handed holding the envelope.

Too late to act as if she’d picked it up by accident, she asked, “Is everything all right at the farm?”

“The farm’s fine.” He took the envelope from her and placed it on the kitchen counter. “Let’s get going. Later this afternoon I need to move the herd and work with Bear again.”

“We can picnic another time, if you’re too busy.”

He grasped her face and pressed his mouth against hers. “Does that feel like a man wanting an excuse not to spend time with a beautiful woman?”

“Not really.”

“I must be losing my touch.” This time when his lips found her, he thrust his tongue inside her mouth.

The kiss was hot, wet and a little wild. When they came up for air, she said, “I’m convinced.”

Johnny’s truck had a bench seat, and when she got in on the driver’s side and attempted to scoot across the seat, he said, “Stay right where you are.”

He lowered the tailgate, then lifted Hank into the bed before hopping behind the wheel. They drove in silence and Shannon’s skin shivered each time Johnny’s thigh nudged hers when the truck hit a rut in the road.

Once they arrived at the windmill, Johnny helped Hank to the ground and the dog trotted off to explore, while Shannon spread the blanket in the truck bed and rummaged through the cooler.

“In Hank’s canine youth he’d turn a stray cow toward the herd, then leap back into Roger’s moving pickup,” Johnny said.

“Dad claims Hank is the best cow dog he’s ever owned.”

“Then you came home from the hospital and turned Hank into a big baby.”

Shannon laughed.

“While you set out the food I’ll take care of this.” Johnny removed the new vane he’d ordered three weeks ago, grabbed his tools and climbed the thirty-foot tower of the antique 1935 Aermotor windmill. He had noticed the damaged vane after a storm had blown through the area and the best he could figure was that a gust of wind had slammed a piece of heavy debris into the vane, denting the metal. He removed the damaged vane and bolted the new one to the tailbone section. After he climbed down, he examined the pump.

It worried him how quickly he’d agreed to the picnic with Shannon, and then when they’d gotten in his truck he’d wanted her sitting next to him, bodies touching. It hadn’t been like this with Charlene, not even in the beginning during their first few dates. He was amazed that he’d spent an entire night in Shannon’s bed and not once during that time had he thought about their age difference. Or the upcoming rodeo in Tucson. Or training Bear to accept a saddle. He hadn’t even remembered the bank statement sitting in the foreman’s cabin.

Shannon had consumed his thoughts and his heart the entire time he’d been in bed with her. At dawn, he’d dressed and left the house, fearing if she opened her eyes, he’d fall captive to her pleading look and dive between the sheets with her again. As it was, he could barely concentrate on chores without recalling her sweet scent and how soft her feet had felt when they’d glided up his calf and touched his...

He shook his head to clear his mind of lusty thoughts then tightened the pump rod and checked the drive gear to make sure it didn’t stick. When he joined Shannon on the tailgate, he stared at the crackers and cheese and bottle of wine. “Is that all there is to eat?”

“Sorry, there was no lunch meat in the fridge.” She handed him the opener for the bottle.

Johnny wasn’t a big wine drinker, but he appreciated Shannon’s effort to make the picnic special. She held out plastic cups and he filled them.

“A toast,” she said. “To—”

“To you.” He tapped the edge of his cup against hers, then nuzzled her neck. When he kissed the skin near her ear, she made a purring sound that drove him crazy.

She pulled back first, her mouth turning up at the corners in a shy smile. He liked this softer side to the tough lady bull rider. “Do you think your father’s enjoying the cruise?”

“I hope so. I’ve noticed he’s mellowed since Thanksgiving. I’m sure Fiona has a lot to do with that.”

“He’s been tough on you, hasn’t he?”

“Let’s not talk about my father. Instead, can I ask you a question?”

The hairs on the back of his neck vibrated. Nothing good came out of a conversation that started with “Can I ask you a question?” “Sure.”

“I know our age difference bothers you.”

“It doesn’t bother me as much anymore.” What worried him now was falling hard for a woman who might be here one day and gone the next. He wasn’t ready to admit his feelings for Shannon—not until he knew for certain he could stand by her all the way to the end—wherever that took them. He grasped her hand and squeezed. “You make me feel things I’ve never felt before.” He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “You challenge me at every turn but when you’re in my arms you feel like you’re meant to be there.” Whether Shannon rode in Tucson or not wouldn’t change that fact.

She lifted her face to him and he kissed her, then worked the buttons on her blouse loose before slipping his hand inside and caressing her breast. Her breath grew ragged as he toyed with her belt buckle, but that’s as far as he got when his cell phone went off.

He fished the phone from his back pocket with an apologetic glance at Shannon. “Hey, P.T. It’s Johnny. Thanks for returning my call.”

P. T. Lewis was the owner of Five Star Ranch, a sanctuary for retired rodeo stock. Shannon had practiced many times on P.T.’s bulls over the past few years. She wondered why Johnny had reached out to the man.

“You bet.” Johnny checked his watch. “We can be out there within the hour. Thanks, P.T.”

“What was that all about?” Shannon asked.

“P.T. agreed to let you practice on his bulls. We can visit the ranch anytime we want as long as we call ahead.”

“What do you mean
we?
”

Johnny’s blue eyes warmed. “You and me.” He took her hand and threaded his fingers through hers. “I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you’re ready to compete in January.”

She sucked in a quick breath. “I thought you didn’t want me to rodeo.”

“I don’t. But I also know nothing’s going to stop you, and if you’re determined to ride in three weeks, I want to make sure you’re prepared.”

She flung her arms around his neck. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”

“Looks like we’ll have to put our picnic on hold.” He kissed her, then dumped the wine from his cup over the side of the truck.

“We’ll eat later,” she said, shoving the food into the cooler. Within a minute they had everything packed. She whistled for Hank and the dog came running. Johnny lifted him into the truck bed then secured the tailgate and they drove back to the house, Shannon feeling more confident by the second that with Johnny’s help she’d be ready to compete in Tucson.

* * *

A
S
SOON
AS
Johnny parked next to the round pen at Five Star Ranch, the front door of the hacienda-style house opened and P. T. Lewis stepped outside.

“You don’t look too bad for a gal who got in a bull wreck a couple of months ago.” The white-haired rancher’s eyes twinkled as his gaze traveled over Shannon’s body.

“Thanks, P.T. I’m almost good as new,” she said.

“Heard you took Roger’s place as foreman of the Triple D.” P.T. shook hands with Johnny.

“I’m fortunate to be working for Clive. He’s a good man.”

“Nobody trains better cutting horses than Clive.” P.T. motioned to the corral and began walking. “I picked up a rodeo bull a few weeks ago from a ranch in New Mexico.” He glanced at Shannon. “Don’t know if you’ve ever ridden him.”

“What’s his name?” she asked.

“Pistol Pete.”

“Doesn’t sound familiar,” she said. They stopped at the corral.

Johnny thought the solid black bull looked like a doofus with his horns sawed off unevenly.

“He bucks three times then spins.” P.T. shook his head. “He became too predictable so they retired him.”

Johnny considered the bull’s body. He looked to be in good shape. “How old is he?”

“Six. He’s got a lot of gas left in him.”

Shannon shielded her eyes from the sun. “Why is he being kept by himself in the pen behind the barn?”

“He’s aggressive with the other bulls. The old-timers don’t want anything to do with him.”

“What happened to Curly?” she asked.

P.T. nodded to the open space on the other side of the barn. “He’s lounging in the shade.”

“You don’t keep him penned up anymore?” Shannon asked.

“You remember Lauren, don’t you? Clint’s daughter?”

“Sure.”

“She’s away at college now, but she’s claimed Curly as her personal pet. That dang bull won’t leave the ranch yard now.”

Johnny found that incredible. “He never wanders off?”

“Not anymore. He even naps by the front door.”

“Does Curly still buck?” Shannon’s teeth nibbled her lower lip and Johnny wondered if she was having second thoughts about riding. Maybe Pistol Pete was more than she could handle right now.

“Sure Curly bucks. Want to take a run at him instead of Pistol Pete?”

“Why not. For old time’s sake.”

“Get your gear on. I’ll go fetch him.”

As soon as P.T. walked out of earshot, Johnny said, “If you don’t feel ready, that’s okay. We can come back tomorrow.”