The Cowboy Next Door (The Cash Brothers) (5 page)

“What about her concussion?” Matt asked.

“The protective headgear saved her from a more serious blow. She’ll have headaches for a few days but there should be no lasting damage.”

Listening to the voices exhausted her and her thoughts floated out of reach.

“How long will she have to stay in the hospital?” Clive asked.

“Two days. Three at the most. All of you should go home and rest. She’ll sleep through the night, but the nurses will keep an eye on her.”

Matt and Luke followed the doctor to the door. “We’ve got a big trial next week we’re preparing for,” Luke said.

Tomorrow was Sunday. Johnny assumed Shannon’s brothers took at least one day off a week.

“We’ll stop by tomorrow night.” Matt nodded to Johnny. “See you later.”

“I’ll take care of things at the ranch if you want to stay here.” Johnny spoke to Clive.

“I’ve got a meeting with a horse buyer first thing in the morning. I’ll drop by the hospital afterward.” Clive put his cowboy hat on and glanced at his daughter, then shook his head and left the room.

Johnny moved closer to the bed. She looked deathly pale and small beneath the white blanket. He took her hand in his and rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. Guilt pricked him. Had his fight with Rodriguez distracted her and caused her to lose focus? “Damn it, Shannon. You could have been killed today.”

He mulled over the past two weeks since he’d run into her at the rodeo in Gila Bend and ended up in a motel room with her. He wasn’t able to make sense of his feelings. This burning attraction to her had sprung up out of nowhere.

The room door burst open and Johnny jumped inside his skin, quickly releasing Shannon’s hand.

“I got here as soon as I could,” Dixie said. “How is she?”

“Concussion and a broken tibia.”

“I saw Clive walking through the lobby.”

“He’s driving back to the ranch tonight.”

Dixie approached the bed and arranged Shannon’s hair across the pillow. “She’s so brave. I never thought she’d get hurt.”

Bravery had nothing to do with becoming injured. If you rode bulls long enough, you got hurt—no cowboy or cowgirl was exempt from that rodeo rule.

“Do you think she’ll recover in time to compete against C.J. at the Tucson rodeo in January?”

“After almost getting killed this afternoon, Shannon’s bull riding days are over.”

“Don’t underestimate her. She’s a lot stronger than you realize.” Dixie smiled. “Besides, you can’t tell her what to do.”

Johnny tore his gaze from his sister’s lest she see through him and guess that his relationship with Shannon had crossed a line.

“No one’s denying she’s a strong woman,” he said, “but Shannon’s not stupid. Once her bone heals, she’ll have weeks of physical therapy on her torn Achilles tendon. She’ll have to concede victory to Rodriguez.” Johnny didn’t know who he hoped to convince—himself, his sister or the unconscious patient.

“My money is on Shannon that she’ll recover and compete in Tucson.” Dixie checked her watch. “Go on back to the ranch. I’ll stay with her tonight.”

He didn’t want to let Shannon out of his sight—not with the vision of Heat Miser bearing down on her burned onto his brain. “Don’t you have to open the gift shop in the morning?”

“Yes. I’ll chug coffee all day to keep awake.”

“That can’t be good for your body if you’re trying to make a baby.”

“One time won’t hurt.”

“Listen, I don’t mind sleeping in the chair tonight. I can catch a nap tomorrow.”

“She’s my best friend, Johnny.”

I know.
Dixie had always looked up to him with hero worship in her eyes but she’d be disappointed in him if she knew he’d slept with her best friend on a whim.

He played the guilt card. “Shannon will be mad at you if you neglect your health when you’re trying to start a family.”

Dixie stared at Shannon and nibbled her lower lip. “You promise you won’t leave before I get here in the morning? I’ll stop by on my way to the shop.”

“I promise as long as you bring me a coffee and a doughnut.”

“Done.” She hugged him.

“Everything okay between you and Gavin?”

“Sure.” She dropped her gaze. “Why?”

“You haven’t called in a couple of days.” She usually checked in with him every day.

“Gavin’s had a rough week sleeping.”

“Is he seeing his therapist?”

“Yes, but trying to get me pregnant is stressing him out.”

“Maybe you should quit trying and let it happen when it happens.”

“I suggested that but you know Gavin, once a soldier always a soldier. He’s not surrendering until the plus sign appears on the home pregnancy test.” She nodded to the bed. “If she wakes up, tell her I’ll be by in the morning.”

“Sure.”

As soon as the door shut behind his sister, Johnny pulled the chair next to the bed and grasped Shannon’s hand. He swore her fingers tightened against his. Satisfied that she knew she wasn’t alone, he closed his eyes and tried to catch a few winks.

* * *

“T
HAT
SMELL
IS
making me nauseous.” Shannon scowled at her friends, who devoured greasy hamburgers at the foot of the hospital bed Monday afternoon. She’d awoken Sunday morning with a severe headache, which had only slightly dissipated over the past twenty-four hours, leaving her stomach feeling too queasy to eat.

Almost forty-eight hours had passed since her collision with Heat Miser, and despite being pumped full of pain medication she was uncomfortable and grumpy.

Skylar Riggins, a records transcriptionist for the Yuma Medical Center stuffed the remainder of her Big Mac into her mouth. “When do you think you’ll be able to go home?” she asked after swallowing her mouthful of burger.

“Wednesday,” Shannon said.

Wendy Chin, a petite Asian woman who worked as a livestock insurance agent protested. “Isn’t that too soon?”

“Not soon enough as far as I’m concerned.” This morning they’d taken Shannon off the morphine pump and switched her to pills. So far she hadn’t felt a difference in her pain level, which remained at a constant five on a scale of ten. Pain aside, she was eager to begin her rehab. Today was September second and every day counted if she intended to win the title of Cowgirl of the Year.

“If I had to guess, your father’s not too happy with you right now.” Julie Kenner knew all about dealing with unsupportive parents. Her mother hadn’t spoken to her for a month after Julie had broken her arm in a Five Star Rodeo the previous summer.

“You’d guess right.” Shannon’s father had expressed his displeasure when he’d visited her late Sunday afternoon. He hadn’t shown up yet today and she secretly hoped he’d find work at the ranch to detain him, because she wasn’t in the mood for another lecture on how lucky she was to be alive. Then again, at least her father cared about her. Through the years she’d hardly ever thought of her estranged mother, but she’d woken this morning, wondering if the woman would even care that her daughter had survived a close call with a bull.

“Who gave you the teddy bear?” Skylar asked.

“One of my brothers.” She doubted her father would waste money on a stuffed animal. The nurse had told her that her brothers had been by to see her Sunday night but she’d slept through their visit.

“Look on the bright side,” said Kim Beaderman, a second-grade teacher in the Yuma school district, “now that your bull riding days are over, you’ll grow closer to your father.”

“Who said anything about quitting rodeo?” She wasn’t washed up yet. She had a lot of rides left in her. If she walked away now, all she’d ever be was a cowgirl who had once ridden bulls.

“Whoa, girlfriend.” Julie inched to the top of the bed and gently tapped Shannon’s forehead. “Another collision with a bull’s horns will leave you with more problems than memory loss when you’re older.” Julie believed she was an expert on human anatomy because she was an MRI technician.

No one knew her own body better than Shannon and she wasn’t ready to hang up her bull rope. “Do any of you know if my score was higher than C.J.’s on Saturday?” She hadn’t dared ask her father for fear that would start an argument. She’d been tempted to text Johnny but worried he’d also lecture her on quitting.

“You got an eighty-seven,” Wendy said.

“No kidding?” An eighty-seven was her highest score to date. “Good. We’re back to even.”

Her cell phone rang and Shannon checked the caller I.D.—Dale Carson, a promoter for Dynasty Boots. “I have to take this call.” Dale had left a voice message for her Sunday, asking her to contact him. Shannon had chickened out, figuring he wouldn’t be pleased when he heard the extent of her injuries.

“We should get going.” Wendy gathered the fast-food wrappers and dropped them into the trash can.

“Thanks for stopping by,” Shannon said. Left alone in the room, she dialed Dale’s number. He picked up on the first ring.

“Shannon?”

“It’s me.”

“Listen. I don’t have a lot of time right now, but the PR team has come up with a new idea.”

She rolled her eyes. She hadn’t been a fan of the “pretend romance” plot and doubted she’d like their new idea any better. “What is it?”

“First, how are you feeling?”

At least he’d asked. “Better, thanks.”

“I spoke with your doctor yesterday.”

So much for doctor-patient confidentiality.

“He believes the earliest you can ride again is six-to-eight weeks. That puts us in the middle of October or early November, which means we stand to lose a lot of money in ticket sales.”

“I’ll work hard at my rehab and be back in four weeks.” She’d say and do anything to save her chances of winning a national title.

“Take the eight weeks. We’ve got a new game plan.”

She braced herself.

“After that scene involving you, C.J. and Johnny Cash behind the chutes this past Saturday we’ve had hundreds of fan emails, letters and phone calls asking about the Man in Black.”

“What about Johnny?”

“What’s going on between you two?”

“He’s my best friend’s brother. We’ve known each other for years.”

“So you’re just friends?”

“Yes.”

“Dynasty Boots wants to promote a love-triangle between you, Johnny Cash and C.J. The fans are going to soak it up.”

Good God.
“You want Johnny and C.J. to fight over me?”

“That’s right. We’re working on booking appearances at a couple of rodeo venues, so fans can see the three of you together.”

“And if Johnny refuses to be part of this charade?”

“Talk him into it, Shannon, because you won’t like the alternative.”

The alternative being that Dynasty Boots would cancel their contract with her.

Chapter Five

“What are you doing here?”

“I see you’re ready to bust out of this joint.” Johnny removed his Stetson and stepped into Shannon’s hospital room late Wednesday afternoon.

She lay on the bed with her broken leg propped up on a pillow. After she’d eaten lunch and her nurse had helped her shower, the doctor had signed her release papers. She caught herself fussing with her still damp hair and silently cursed. Why did she care what Johnny thought of her looks?

Maybe because you slept with him.

Johnny approached the bed and the familiar scent of sandalwood and musk reminded Shannon of pressing her nose against his neck, his naked chest, his... She clutched her teddy bear, as if the stuffed animal would protect her from the memories.

“I thought my father was picking me up?”

“He was on his way, but the truck blew a tire and he didn’t have a spare. He’s waiting for a tow outside Stagecoach.”

“So you’re stuck giving me a ride.”

“It’s no trouble.”

“If it was, you wouldn’t say so.”

“Be nice.” His lips twitched and the tension she’d felt when he first entered the room dissipated.

“Sorry. I’ve still got a nagging headache.” Unconsciously she stroked her hand over the head of her bed buddy.

“Did you name your new friend?” He nodded to the teddy bear.

“Not yet.” She set the stuffed animal aside. “I don’t even know who bought it.”

“I did.”

Her heart thumped a little harder. “I don’t recall you visiting.”

“I stayed with you Saturday night then left Sunday morning when Dixie got here.”

“My dad didn’t make you—”

“No. I—” he cleared his throat “—wanted to stay.”

His admission resurrected the strain between them, leaving Shannon speechless.

“Dixie had a favorite monkey she used to sleep with,” he said.

“Cocoa. Remember the day his arm fell off?”

He chuckled. “I thought Dixie had been mortally wounded when I heard her scream echo through the orchard.”

“Then you sewed Cocoa’s arm back on. You’re a good big brother, Johnny.” She made eye contact with him, but he looked away before she could guess if what he felt for her was brotherly affection or something more.

Enough talk about brotherly-sisterly love. “What happened after Heat Miser head butted me? I heard the buzzer but everything after that is a blank.”

His shoulders stiffened.

“C’mon, Johnny. You were there. You saw the whole thing.”

His chest shuddered with a long exhale and he closed his eyes. “Heat Miser freight-trained you.”

She flinched.

“After you fell off, the bullfighters distracted Heat Miser for a second before he turned on you.”

“Was I trying to get to my feet?” she asked.

“You weren’t moving at all.”

She swallowed hard as she envisioned herself lying motionless on the arena floor. “Then what happened?”

It must have been a trick of the fluorescent ceiling light because it looked as if Johnny’s eyes glistened with moisture. “Heat Miser charged, lowered his head and flung you into the air.”

Suddenly taking a deep breath became impossible as an invisible weight settled on Shannon’s chest. It was a miracle she hadn’t broken her neck or suffered internal injuries. Fearing her anxiety would escalate if she focused on her close call with death, she said, “I wish I’d seen the look on C.J.’s face after I evened the score between us.”

“You went out with a bang that’s for sure.”

“What do you mean ‘went out’?”

“You’re finished with rodeo.” He frowned. “Aren’t you?”

That Johnny assumed she’d quit the sport after her bad wreck stung. It was bad enough that her father and brothers believed she should retire—easy for them to say when they’d won a title. “A broken leg doesn’t mean I’m washed up.” Shoot, her bone would heal in six weeks. By the time January arrived, she’d be ready for the rodeo in Tucson. Not wanting to argue about her rodeo career she changed the subject. “How do you like your new job as foreman?”

“Your dad’s a fair man. I have no complaints.”

“Has he heard from Uncle Roger?”

“Roger made it to Florida. He traded his saddle in for a fishing pole and spends his mornings at the pier, entertaining fishermen with ranching stories.”

“I’m glad he’s happy.”

“The only one who’s not happy with how things worked out is Hank.”

“Poor baby. He misses Roger.”

“I have to tie him up when I leave or he’ll run away.”

“I’ll take him off your hands. It’ll be nice to have company in the house while I’m recuperating.”

He grabbed the plastic hospital bags stuffed with her clothes. “Is this all you have?”

She nodded.

“I’ll let the nurses know you’re ready to leave.”

Shannon stared at the empty doorway. Were they going to talk about the night they spent together at the Hacienda Motel or continue to pretend it never happened?

* * *

J
OHNNY
WAS
INSTRUCTED
to bring his truck to the front entrance and wait for Shannon there. He wasn’t looking forward to the drive to the ranch. They couldn’t keep pretending they hadn’t slept together. If the sex hadn’t blown his mind, he’d have set things straight between them, but knowing how good Shannon had felt in his arms made everything more complicated.

When he reached his truck, he flipped on the air to cool the interior and drove to the front entrance where Shannon waited in a wheelchair. He placed her crutches across the floor behind the front seats, then reached for her.

“I don’t need help,” she said.

Ignoring her, he lifted her from the chair, holding her close for a few seconds before depositing her in the passenger seat and securing her belt. After he shut the door, he tipped his hat to the nurse. “Have a nice day, ma’am.”

“We can stop for a bite to eat if you’re hungry,” he said when he got behind the wheel.

“I’m not hungry.”

He left the parking lot and merged with traffic before glancing across the seat. Shannon’s eyes were closed, lips pressed tightly together. “You okay?”

“I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

He turned down a side street and put the truck in Park, then dumped her belongings onto the backseat and handed her the empty plastic bag. “Just in case.”

“Thanks.”

“Would you be more comfortable in the backseat with your leg up?”

“No. I just want to get home.”

He put in a George Strait CD, hoping the music would take her mind off her queasy stomach, and drove through downtown Yuma.

“Johnny?”

“What?”

“We need to talk.”

Oh, hell. Here it comes.

The truck hit a pothole in the road and Shannon grimaced in pain when her leg bumped the door. “Relax,” he said. “There’s plenty of time to talk later.”

Once he hit the open road, he put the pedal to the metal. When they arrived at the outskirts of Stagecoach, he noticed Clive’s truck was missing from the side of the road. “Looks like your dad got his tire fixed.” He peeked at Shannon. Beads of perspiration dotted her brow. “When can you take another pain pill?”

“Not for two hours.”

Fifteen minutes later he pulled into the ranch yard. “Sit tight.” He glanced toward the barn on his way to open the passenger-side door. Clive’s truck was nowhere in sight. “I’ll carry you inside,” he said. Because she was in a lot of pain
not
because the few seconds he’d held her outside the hospital hadn’t been nearly enough.

She didn’t protest when he lifted her into his arms. Although small in stature, she was solid muscle, except for the soft curve of her breast, which pressed against his chest as he strode toward the house. He paused in the foyer. “Where to?” In all the years he’d worked part-time for Clive, he’d never set foot inside the house.

“Upstairs. The bedroom at the end of the hall.”

Shannon’s room was exactly as he’d envisioned—plain. Beige walls. Beige bedding. Even the wingback chair by the window was beige. He laid her on the bed. “Is there an extra pillow for your leg?”

“Linen closet in the hallway.”

Once Shannon was situated, Johnny fetched her personal belongings and crutches from the truck. Back in her bedroom he plugged in her cell phone charger, then moved the nightstand closer to the bed.

“Johnny?”

“What?”

“Did you get my gear from the arena?”

“Rodriguez dropped off your bag and laptop at the hospital after the rodeo. Your dad brought them back to the ranch.”

“I can’t believe I forgot to ask about my gear until now,” she said.

“You’ve been high on pain meds for the past four days.” Johnny removed the plastic bottle of pills from his pocket and set it on the nightstand. “I’ll get you a drink.”

“There should be bottles of water in the fridge.”

A few minutes later, he returned with two bottles of water, a box of saltines and her laptop. “Your computer was sitting on the kitchen table.”

“Thanks.”

“Anything else I can get you before I head to the barn?” Their gazes clashed and the bold way she stared at him sent up a warning flag inside his head.

“There’s something I need to ask you,” she said.

He thought he’d be ready for this conversation, but he wasn’t. Not after carrying Shannon inside and feeling her body nestled against his. He snapped his fingers. “Let me fetch you an extra blanket.” He found one in the linen closet, then sagged against the wall. Was she going to tell him their night in the motel had been a mistake? He hoped so and he hoped not.

When he went back into the bedroom, she was sound asleep. Her skin was the color of bleached flour, its paleness accentuated by the tangled strands of her jet-black hair. Her vulnerability struck him hard.

He didn’t understand her obsession with riding bulls. The only thing he knew for sure was that he hated seeing her suffer. He wanted to believe the need to keep her safe was rooted in his big-brother feelings toward her, but it wasn’t. The days of viewing Shannon as his little sister’s best friend were long gone. Now, when he looked at her, he saw a sexy, mature woman he was attracted to. A woman he wanted.

A woman you need to keep the hell away from.

There was too much riding on his job at the Triple D to mess things up by becoming involved with the boss’s daughter. He closed the blinds, blocking out the afternoon sun. Worried she’d wake up chilled he covered her with the extra blanket then left.

He went to the barn and finished mucking the stall he’d been working on when Clive had asked him to pick up Shannon from the hospital. Afterward, he went to the foreman’s cabin and unchained Hank, then escorted him inside to the bathroom. When he ran the water in the tub, Hank whirled and bumped his snout against the closed door. “I know. Baths suck, but if you want to be invited into a woman’s bed, you can’t stink.” Johnny set Hank in the tub and drizzled shampoo along his back.

Hank sneezed.

“Get ready, boy. This stuff is supposed to—” he read the label “—unlock dangerous levels of attraction.”

Hank didn’t buy the claim. He shook from head to toe, spraying the bathroom walls with suds.

A short while later, Johnny towel-dried the dog and opened the door. Hank made a mad dash into the main room where he rolled himself dry on the rug. Johnny gathered the wet towels. When he left the bathroom, he jumped inside his skin.

“Crap, Dixie.” He slapped a hand over his pounding heart. “You can’t just walk in here without knocking.”

“I did knock.” She petted Hank while Johnny went into the laundry off the kitchen and stuffed the wet towels into the machine. “What are you doing here?”

“I brought a few dinners over for you and Shannon.”

Had Shannon told his sister what they’d done and now Dixie assumed they were a couple? “Why would you think Shannon and I eat together?”

“Hey, don’t get testy. I wanted to bring you a housewarming gift, so I made your favorite casseroles.” She pointed to the cardboard box on the kitchen table. “Since I was going to all that trouble, I made extra for Shannon, because Clive doesn’t cook much.”

“That was nice of you, Dix.” He peered into the box at the ceramic dishes covered in foil. “Shannon’s sleeping right now. I’ll take them up to the house later.”

Dixie placed the dishes in the fridge then hugged him.

“What’s that for?”

“Because you’re such a nice guy.”

And nice guys finish last.

“I wish I could stay and visit but I need to make a run into town for Hank’s dog food.” The mutt’s ears perked at the mention of his name.

“Doesn’t Clive pay for his food?”

Johnny didn’t know and he hadn’t asked and frankly he didn’t care. He was feeling hemmed in and looking for an excuse to leave the ranch. Clive had hired him to take care of the horses and cattle, not babysit his daughter and a geriatric dog. He pulled his truck keys from his pocket and Dixie preceded him outside.

“Thanks again for bringing the food.” He waited for his sister to drive off before he headed to the main highway. As the mile markers passed, he convinced himself that he’d better devise a game plan for dealing with what had happened between him and Shannon. If he didn’t, the awkwardness between them would grow, and then Clive would notice and ask questions Johnny didn’t care to answer.

When he pulled into Baine Feed and Tack, he noticed Clive’s pickup, sporting a new rear tire, was parked in the lot. He opened the glove compartment to put his sunglasses away and an envelope dropped onto the
floor
. The letter from the IRS had arrived a week ago, informing Johnny that he owed five thousand dollars in back taxes on the farm, because of an exemption he’d claimed but hadn’t been entitled to. He should have paid a professional to do the taxes, but he’d hoped to save money. He hadn’t figured out how he’d pay the penalty and worried what his siblings would say when they found out their big brother had screwed up.

He placed the envelope back in the compartment and entered the feed store. Clive and Jim were nowhere in sight, but he heard voices echoing from the storeroom. Johnny wandered over to the pet food aisle and found the brand Roger fed Hank, and then he browsed the dog toys. The sound of boot heels clunking against the floor warned him he had company.