The Cowboy Next Door (The Cash Brothers) (4 page)

The matter of his residence resolved, the brothers dug into their food and swapped rodeo stories. Halfway through the meal, Porter brought Hank outside and they all took turns tossing scraps to the hound.

After the meal, Will pulled a deck of cards out of his pocket. “I’m calling the first game,” he said. “Acey deucey.”

Porter grabbed Hank’s leash and the brothers carried the leftover food inside. After the tenth hand of poker, it occurred to Johnny that even though he was ready to move on with his life, his brothers weren’t quite ready to cut the apron strings.

* * *

“H
EY
, C
LIVE
.” J
OHNNY
jogged across the dirt drive and walked into the barn with his boss early Saturday morning. “You plan to go to the rodeo in Yuma this afternoon?”

“Nope.”

Clive’s curt response startled Johnny. He’d expected his boss to want to see his daughter compete.

“I’d be happy to watch things here if you want to take the afternoon off.”

“Got too much work to do.” Clive pushed the wheelbarrow through the center of the barn and parked it next to Windjammer’s stall.

Fourteen days had passed since he and Shannon had made love and the knot in Johnny’s gut hadn’t unraveled. “Would you mind if I went to the rodeo?”

Clive grasped a pitchfork and flung clumps of soiled hay into the barrow. “You competing?”

After landing my dream job?
“The last thing I need is an injury to prevent me from doing ranch chores.”

“Makes no difference to me what you do. You’re not officially on the clock till Monday morning.”

“Is there anything you want me to tell Shannon?”

The boss wiped his brow. “I don’t know what in tarnation I did to make that girl believe riding bulls is acceptable behavior for a lady.”

Johnny didn’t like the idea of Shannon riding bulls, either, but he felt compelled to defend her. “She’s darn good at the sport. It takes courage to do what she does. I’m sure she got that from you.”

“Only a matter of time before she gets hurt.” Clive spat tobacco juice into the soiled hay.

“I didn’t realize you disapproved of Shannon rodeoing.”

“I didn’t mind her keeping up with her brothers when she was a little tyke, but I never thought she’d take bull riding this far. I figured when she grew into a young woman she’d find other interests.”

Johnny wished he understood what drove Shannon to compete in the dangerous sport. Maybe the answer was as simple as she enjoyed the challenge. A lot of rodeo cowboys were adrenaline junkies who loved pitting themselves against a bull.

“What did you say to Dixie to convince her to quit riding bulls last summer?” Clive asked.

Evidently Shannon hadn’t told her father that Dixie had scratched the final Five Star Rodeo because she’d discovered she was pregnant. Not many people knew that Dixie had miscarried weeks later and Johnny was sure his sister did not want the news to become public knowledge. “Dixie sprained her ankle and couldn’t compete.” That was the lie his sister had used.

“Why didn’t she ride after her ankle healed?”

“She became too busy with her gift shop in Yuma.”

“Wish my daughter would find a new hobby.”

Hobby? Dixie’s Desert Delights was a reputable business that helped support Dixie and her husband.

“Maybe you can talk sense into my daughter.”

After their night at the Hacienda Motel, Johnny wasn’t sure Shannon cared to speak to him. He’d find out shortly. “If you’re sure you don’t mind, I’ll catch that rodeo in Yuma.”

“Makes no difference to me.”

“Roger was worried Hank would run off after he left, so I’ve kept him tied to the porch.” He’d given the hound plenty of leash and set extra water and food outside.

“I’ll check on him after I’m through here.”

“See you later.”

Before he reached the barn doors, Clive called his name. “Johnny.”

“What?”

“Tell Shannon—” his boss struggled to speak “—to be careful.”

“Will do.” Johnny jogged to his truck, his chest tightening with anticipation and dread.

* * *

T
HE
OUTDOOR
ARENA
for the Yuma Rodeo Days Ride-off was packed to the gills. Despite the hundred-plus temperature, Shannon smiled for the cameras and signed autographs for young girls who dreamed of becoming lady bull riders. For the past three hours she’d manned the Dynasty Boots booth, waiting for C.J. to take her place. She guessed he’d snuck off—most likely to a horse stall in the livestock barn—with another ditzy buckle bunny. At least he wasn’t flirting with women out in the open.

Her sweat-soaked clothes chafed her but the only thing she cared about was winning and evening up the score with C.J., who remained one win ahead. After today’s ride, they had a break from competition for two weeks before they traveled to Winslow to compete.

Shannon planned to use the time off to help her father with ranch chores, but that had been before she’d had sex with Johnny. Seeing the cowboy every day and not being able to do anything about her attraction to him would be tougher than riding a rank bull.

“My name’s Jenny. Can I have your autograph?” A freckle-faced girl held out a rodeo program.

“You wanna be a cowgirl when you grow up?” Shannon scribbled her name across the cover.

“No, I wanna be like her.”

Shannon glanced in the direction the girl pointed and saw C.J. talking to the Yuma Rodeo Days Ride-off queen. The rodeo queen wore fancy boots and a red Western shirt with more rhinestones than stars in the galaxy.

A tug on the program in her hand startled her. “Sorry. Have fun today, Jenny.” No sooner had the girl moseyed along than Shannon caught sight of Johnny Cash. She sucked in a quiet breath. Dressed from head to toe in black, he represented his namesake and drew the stares of several women as he walked toward her, his hips rolling from side to side in a confident swagger.

“Hello, Johnny.” She resisted pressing her hand against her thudding heart.

His black Stetson dipped. “How’ve you been?”

That was a loaded question. “Great. I hear you’re working for my father.”

His gaze locked on the table of programs next to her. “Guess I forgot to mention that.”

“Are you settled in at the ranch?”

“Yep.” He looked her in the eye. “Your father said to be careful.”

“Let me guess. He was too busy with the ranch to come today.”

Johnny nodded. “He’s worried you’ll injure yourself.”

She didn’t want to discuss her father. “Are you competing?”

“Heck, no.” This time his smile was genuine. “I don’t want to screw up my gig at the Triple D.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” she said. “My father can be a demanding man. That’s why my brothers traded in their saddles for a library full of law books.”

“You ready for today?” he asked.

“Of course.” She was always ready—riding bulls was a part of who she was. She checked the time on her cell phone. “I better get going.” It was crazy, but instead of making her feel ill at ease, Johnny’s presence quieted her jumpy nerves. “Walk with me?”

“Sure.”

They strolled through the crowd in silence, Johnny’s shoulder bumping hers once—the contact triggering an electric charge, which traveled down her arm and through her fingertips. When they reached the cowboy ready area, he pulled her aside. “What’s the matter?”

“What do you mean?”

“You kept looking over your shoulder the whole way here.”

“I’m fine.” Shannon saw C.J. and stiffened.

“Did you two...get back together?” Johnny’s blue gaze intensified. Did her answer matter to him?

“No, we’re through.”

“Does Dynasty Boots know about the breakup?” he asked.

“No, and we’re not planning to tell them.” She wished she knew if it bothered him that she and C.J. were pretending to be a couple.

“What bull did you draw?” he asked.

“Heat Miser.”

“Heat Miser’s a twenty-three-point bull.” Left unsaid was the animal’s reputation for turning on fallen riders.

Shannon was the first to admit the bull made her nervous, but a draw was a draw and her sponsor paid her to play the game with the big boys. C.J. had drawn Mr. Gigolo, a twenty-one-point bull known for running toward the exit after throwing his rider.

Shannon unzipped her bag and put on her gear.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re ready to kick off our bull riding event.” The announcer’s voice boomed over the sound system.

“Don’t look now but Rodriguez is heading this way,” Johnny said.

When C.J. noticed Johnny, he glared. “What are you doing here, Cash?”

“Making sure you mind your manners.”

A cowboy standing nearby snickered and C.J. snapped at Shannon, “You’re going down, Douglas.”

“Is that any way to talk to your
girlfriend?
” Johnny asked.

C.J. flashed a smug grin.

“Don’t let Rodriguez get to you.” Johnny grasped Shannon’s shoulders. “You’ve got to keep your head on straight with this bull.”

“You’re right.”

“Ready?”

Whether she was or not didn’t matter. It was showtime.

Chapter Four

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the third annual Yuma Rodeo Days Ride-Off!”

The spectators’ applause competed with the industrial-sized fans, which moved stagnant air through the building and kept the temperature at a steady eighty-five degrees—not bad considering the thermometer outside hovered at one-hundred-five.

“Yuma is the only town in Arizona to put on a rodeo the last Saturday in the month of August.” The crowd noise grew deafening. “This event is for bull riders only, but be sure to stay afterward for the legendary chuck wagon races. Let’s have a round of applause for our sponsors, the Yuma Main Street Merchants Association.”

Shannon caught C.J. watching her. He wanted her to lose and his steady stare squeezed her like a vise, crushing her chest until she couldn’t draw any air into her lungs.

“Take a deep breath and relax.” Johnny’s quiet voice broke the tension in her body and her lungs opened enough to suck in a gulp of oxygen. “Don’t worry about Rodriguez.” He grasped her hand. “Concentrate on your ride.”

“Folks, we got ourselves fifteen of the toughest rodeo athletes in the Southwest ready to ride fifteen of the meanest, orneriest bulls on the circuit.”

Johnny released her hand, and she resisted the urge to cling to his fingers—leaning on him was a sign of weakness. The only person she could rely on when the chute opened was herself. Gathering her courage, she studied the bulls.

Shannon zeroed in on Heat Miser’s rear hooves. Every few seconds the bull kicked the rails, causing Shannon’s adrenaline to spike. Her heart rate sped up
and h
er mouth watered—she could taste how much she wanted to even the score with C.J.

Music blasted over the sound system as the JumboTron played clips of bull rides from previous rodeos. “Before our competition begins, let me introduce southern Arizona’s famous rodeo couple!” Shannon and C.J. waved to the crowd.

“Shannon Douglas hails from Stagecoach, Arizona, and next to her is our hometown legend C. J. Rodriguez!”

The giant video screen zoomed in on Shannon and C.J., and she forced a smile. C.J. blew kisses at the camera and the women in the stands screamed wildly.

“Sponsored by Dynasty Boots, Shannon and C.J. are traveling the country, promoting women’s roughstock events. For those who don’t know, Shannon is in the running this year for the prestigious title of Cowgirl of the Year.”

When the applause died down, the announcer said, “Place your bets, folks! It’s cowgirl against cowboy. Who’s gonna come out on top in today’s ride-off?”

The crowd went crazy.

Shannon heard several shouts for her name but a whole lot more for C.J.’s. There would always be fans who believed women didn’t belong in roughstock events. Most of Shannon’s supporters were her competitors who respected talent—female or male made no difference.

“Did you do your research on Heat Miser?” Johnny asked when Shannon dropped back to the ground.

“He kicks twice, spins then kicks again before he comes out of the spin.” She’d watched the bull perform at a rodeo in Alamosa, Colorado, which was both helpful and not so helpful. Knowing what she was up against before the gate opened wasn’t the least bit reassuring.

“Folks, Rodriguez will ride Gigolo.” The announcer chuckled. “Seein’ how they’re both ladies’ men, C.J. and Gigolo ought to get along swell.”

Shannon ignored the raucous laughter, tired of the lewd jokes that went hand in hand with her and C.J.’s fake romance. Johnny walked a few feet away to gain a better view of C.J.’s ride.

“It’s a fact that Shannon’s bull, Heat Miser, is rated higher than C.J.’s, but you can never tell with a bull. Let’s see if this cowboy makes it to eight.”

C.J. sat on Gigolo’s back and made a big production out of fussing with the bull rope, and then the fun began.

The bull’s rhythmic bucking pattern—two kicks, a spin then two more kicks—made C.J. look like a superstar. When the buzzer rang he waved his hat at the crowd before dismounting.

Show-off.

C.J. landed on both feet, then faced Shannon’s chute and bowed.

“Another stellar ride by one of the best cowboys on the circuit!”

When Johnny appeared at Shannon’s side, she said, “Thanks for being here.”

“You’re ready.” He straightened her Kevlar vest and she wished those strong arms would pull her close for a hug. Instead, she gathered strength from the confidence in his voice.

“Don’t lean too far forward. Heat Miser is famous for butting heads with his riders.”

Mean bulls didn’t care for anyone on their backs and it didn’t make a bit of difference if the rider was female or male. Shannon adjusted her leather glove, then put one boot on the rail. C.J.’s voice stopped her cold.

“Better hold tight, Douglas, or that bull will stomp your head!”

Shannon placed her boot back on the ground. “Is that any way to treat your better half?” she said, loud enough to turn heads.

Johnny stiffened next to her, but she kept her eyes on C.J. This was part of the show—their love-hate relationship. Dynasty Boots wanted fans to believe they were a warring couple—fiercely competitive during the rodeo then wildly passionate for each other afterward.

C.J. smiled for the cameras. “You’ll never make it to eight, Douglas.”

Johnny stepped between them. “Give her some breathing room, Rodriguez.”

“Jealous, Cash?” C.J. nodded to Johnny’s clothes. “I see you’re dressing like your namesake.”

“You got a problem with my name, Rodriguez?”

“Yeah, it’s stupid.”

“If you don’t have anything nice to say...” Johnny smirked. “You know...shut your mouth.”

C.J.’s gaze cut to Shannon. “Is Cash doing all your talking for you now?”

She cringed when she saw their images on the JumboTron. “Back off, C.J.”

“You think I’m afraid of a country-western wannabe?” C.J. puffed out his chest.

Johnny bumped the brim of his Stetson against C.J.’s. “You heard the lady. Back off.”

“Make me.”

Before Shannon realized Johnny’s intent, he swung his fist, catching C.J. across the jaw and knocking him backward. The group of onlookers steadied C.J. before thrusting him toward Johnny.

C.J. threw the next punch, catching Johnny across the cheek, but Johnny kept his balance and took another swing at C.J. The shorter man ducked, then pushed Johnny to the ground, where they rolled in the dirt.

Rodeo officials intervened and pulled the men apart just as the announcer’s voice boomed over the sound system. “Looks like there’s trouble in paradise.”

Cheers and boos echoed through the stands.

Shannon stuck her face in C.J.’s and whispered, “You probably just cost us our sponsorship. Happy now?”

C.J. walked off, rubbing his jaw and the crowd dispersed.

“You okay?” Johnny asked.

“I’m fine.” She touched her fingers against the bruise forming on his cheek. “What about you?”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve taken a punch defending my name.”

“If you ask me, folks, it looks like we’ve got ourselves a little love triangle between Shannon Douglas, C. J. Rodriguez and...who’s that you say?”

The JumboTron showed the announcer conferring with one of the scorekeepers. “Johnny Cash.” The crowd stomped their boots on the metal bleachers. “That’s right, folks...the Man in Black.”

Johnny escorted Shannon away from the cameras. “Don’t worry about anything right now but going out there and sticking like glue to your bull.” He winked, then pressed a hard kiss to her mouth. “It’s your turn to shine.”

Instead of leaving her dazed, Johnny’s kiss propelled her toward the chute. Without hesitation she slid onto Heat Miser, but as soon as she grasped the rope, the bull rose on his back legs and Shannon had to scramble for safety.

“Heat Miser’s full of hot air this afternoon. Shannon’s gonna have her hands full with this bull.”

Once Heat Miser stopped protesting, Shannon found her seat and wasted no time wrapping the rope around her hand. She wasn’t a fan of suicide wraps and most rodeos didn’t allow a rider to tie his glove to the bull rope but this was one time she wished she could use the trick to keep from losing her grip.

After harnessing her anger at C.J. she leaned her shoulder forward and nodded to the gateman. Heat Miser exploded from the chute, his hoof cracking against the gate and sending the rodeo worker diving for cover.

The bull’s muscles rippled and clenched as he kicked out. When his hooves hit the ground, the impact reverberated through Shannon’s spine and across her shoulders. Clinging to the rope she transferred her center of gravity forward as the bull rolled left. With each second that ticked off the clock, she fought to remain balanced and tuned her ears for the sound of the buzzer.

Just when she believed she’d make it through the ride without Heat Miser throwing his head, the bull dipped, propelling Shannon forward. She tensed, bracing for impact as the bull flung his head sideways. The jolt felt as if someone had swung a baseball bat at her face mask. Dazed, she received a one-second reprieve when Heat Miser planted all four hooves on the ground before gathering his power for another kick.

Face numb, vision blurry, her strength began to ebb.
Hang on
...
one
...
more...
The buzzer rang and instinct took over, releasing a final surge of adrenaline as she waited for an opening to dismount.

The bullfighters appeared in her peripheral vision and one of the men shouted at her, but she couldn’t hear him through the ringing in her ears. Heat Miser was tiring but even the kick of a tired bull was dangerous. Each time she thought she saw an opening the bull stole it from her. Her arm had grown numb and her vision began to dim. She was running out of time and options. She had to jump.

The last thing she remembered was hitting the ground and the excruciating pain that shot through her left leg before blackness overcame her.

Paralyzed with fear, Johnny was perched on the arena rails, watching the horror unfold before his eyes. Shannon laid facedown in the dirt while the bullfighters attempted to draw Heat Miser away from her. One of the men whacked the bull’s butt and the animal gave chase but only for a few yards.

Get up, Shannon
.
Get up!

She didn’t move.

The bull pawed the ground.
Good, God.
Heat Miser intended to freight-train Shannon.

No! No!

Johnny vaulted over the rails and dropped into the arena. Everything happened in slow motion as he raced toward her body, waving his arms frantically above his head. The bullfighters closed ranks and showed amazing bravery when the bull charged them. One cowboy grabbed a horn but Heat Miser tossed his head, flinging the man through the air like a pesky fly.

A sick feeling gripped Johnny’s stomach when he realized he wasn’t going to reach Shannon in time. A cowboy on horseback galloped into the arena and attempted to lasso the bull’s head but missed his first attempt. There was nothing left between Shannon and Heat Miser but twenty feet of dirt.

Johnny’s heart stopped beating when the bull lowered his head and caught Shannon at the waist, hurling her into the air like a rag doll. She hit the ground and rolled several feet before her body came to a stop. Having made his point, Heat Miser trotted off to the livestock pen.

Heart beating like a jackhammer, Johnny skidded to a stop at her side. “Shannon? Can you hear me?”

A bullfighter knelt next to Johnny. “Don’t move her. She might have an injury to her neck or spinal cord.”

The medics sprinted into the arena ahead of the rescue truck. Johnny held Shannon’s hand and whispered in her ear. “You’re going to be okay, honey.”

“Out of the way!” The paramedic’s shout startled Johnny and he scooted over, allowing the medical team room to do their job.

“She’s breathing.” A medic examined Shannon’s limbs and when he touched her left leg, she groaned. “The bone might be broken,” he said.

A third medic emerged from the truck with a body board. Once Shannon’s neck was immobilized with a foam brace, they rolled her onto the board and strapped her down. Johnny peered through the dented face mask, willing her eyes to open, but they remained closed. “Where are you taking her?”

“Yuma Regional Medical Center.”

Johnny waited until they’d loaded her into the truck, then raced through the cowboy ready area as he called Shannon’s father on his cell phone. Clive didn’t pick up so he left a brief message telling his boss to head to the hospital.

Rodriguez chased after Johnny. “Where are you going, Cash?”

“What do you care?”

“She’s not your girl.” Rodriguez stopped when they reached the parking lot and Johnny kept walking.

Maybe Shannon wasn’t his girl, but she was like a sister to him and right now he was scared to death for her. He jogged to his truck, convinced the tightness in his chest felt a whole lot different from the big-brother pain he experienced with Dixie when she got hurt.

* * *

S
LOWLY
,
AS
IF
someone had thrown a rope over Shannon’s head, an invisible force tugged her from blissful darkness into a gray fog. She yearned to see her torturer but her eyes wouldn’t open as the voices echoed inside her head.

“Maybe this will convince her to stop riding bulls.”

Matt?

“If it doesn’t, nothing will.”

Luke?
Why were her brothers talking about her?

“Do you think she can hear us?”

I can hear you, Dad
.
Where am I?

“She just moved her hand.”

Johnny?

His deep voice calmed her and she no longer cared that she couldn’t open her eyes. As long as Johnny was near, she felt protected. The voices faded for a time until the sound of a throat clearing dragged her from the murky dark back into the gray fog.

“Her leg should be fine.”

What happened to her leg?

“Fortunately, the fracture in the tibia was a clean break, but the orthopedic surgeon had to repair a tear in her Achilles tendon, which will require physical therapy after the bone heals.”