The Cowboy Next Door (The Cash Brothers) (6 page)

“You’ve got my sympathy, Clive,” Jim said. “I don’t know what I’d do if one of my daughter’s fell off the deep end and engaged in extreme activities.”

Fell off the deep end?

“At least I won’t have to worry about her breaking her neck anymore. After this last accident, she’s finished with rodeo,” Clive said.

Evidently Shannon hadn’t told her father she had no plans to quit the sport.

“You want me to send Maryellen by to check in on Shannon tomorrow?” Jim asked.

“That’s nice of you to offer, Jim, but my daughter’s stubborn to the core. She won’t take help from anyone.”

“Wonder who she inherited that trait from?” Jim laughed.

Johnny took the dog food and a large rawhide bone up to the checkout.

Jim noticed him first. “Didn’t know you were in the store, Johnny.”

“Thought I’d buy Roger’s hound a present.” He nodded to his boss. “Clive.”

“That’ll be thirty-seven eighty-three,” Jim said.

Johnny set two twenties on the counter. After Jim handed him the change, he said, “See you next time.”

“Wait up.”

Clive followed Johnny out of the store. “I’ve got a favor to ask of you.”

Johnny set the bag of dog food in the truck. “What kind of favor?”

“While I was waiting for the tow truck this afternoon, Jeb Russell phoned and he wants me to deliver the cutting horses he bought a week early. I’m leaving for Wyoming in the morning.”

“But—”

“I know the timing is bad with Shannon just getting out of the hospital.” Clive frowned. “But after Kendall backed out of buying Pepper a month ago, money is tight. I need this sale.”

Johnny knew all about tight budgets.

“I’d appreciate you looking after Shannon until I get back.”

“How long do you plan to be gone?”

“About a week. I want to swing by the Bar Seven outside Durango and see if I can’t talk Bill Cunningham into buying a new stud for his mares.” He twirled his hat in his hand. “I realize checking in on my daughter isn’t the job you signed on for, but Matt and Luke are wrapped up in that murder trial and they don’t have time to drive out to the ranch.”

“I’ll keep an eye on her.” Nothing like throwing temptation in his face every day.

“I appreciate that, Johnny.”

A week alone at the ranch with Shannon and no chaperone—God help him. They needed to have that
talk
ASAP.

* * *

S
HANNON
STOOD
AT
her bedroom window, leaning on her crutches. She’d awoken from her nap to a desperate need to use the bathroom and had managed to shuffle across the hall without help. She’d suffered rodeo injuries before, but this was the first time she’d broken a bone and the pain and discomfort were more than she’d bargained for.

The dull throb pulsing through her mending tibia demanded she climb back in bed and prop her leg up on the pillow, until she saw Johnny’s truck barreling up the road with her father following behind him.

Johnny parked at the foreman’s cabin and went inside while her father stopped in front of the house. A minute later the front door opened and footsteps clomped up the stairs. Her father appeared in the doorway.

“Hey, Dad.”

“What are you doing out of bed?”

“I had to use the bathroom.”

He glanced away. Discussing bodily functions, especially the female kind, embarrassed him. She remembered the horrified look on his face the day he’d caught her peeing against the barn. When he’d asked her what she was doing, her explanation had almost given him a heart attack. She’d insisted she wanted to pee on things just like her brothers did. As a kid, her only role models had been her brothers and the one thing she’d yet to do that they’d accomplished was win a national rodeo title.

Shannon staggered to the bed and sat down. Using both hands she lifted her injured leg onto the stack of pillows and leaned against the headboard.

“I meant to pick you up from the hospital, but—”

“Johnny told me the truck blew a tire.” Why was it so hard for her father to show his affection?

“How long did the doc say it would be until your leg heals?”

“He’ll x-ray the bone in six weeks and if everything looks good, I’ll begin physical therapy then.”

“There’s no need to rush your recovery.”

If her father expected her to sit on her butt and allow her muscles to weaken, he was in for a big surprise. “I won’t do anything to risk injuring my leg before the bone is healed.”

“Don’t forget your head.”

She smiled. “No worries. Last time I checked it was still attached to my body.”

Her humor didn’t go over well and he scowled. “It’s not funny, Shannon. If you fall and smack your noggin you could—”

“I’ll be careful.”

“I’m leaving in the morning to take a horse up to Wyoming. Won’t be back for a week.”

“I’ll be fine.” Good grief, she wasn’t bedridden.

“You’ll let Johnny know if you need help or—” he nodded to the bottle of pills on the nightstand “—your medication refilled at the pharmacy.”

“I will.”

“Call me if you need anything.”

It was nice of him to offer, but she was positive he hoped she wouldn’t contact him. “Be careful driving.” Then he was gone.

Tears stung her eyes as she stared at the ceiling. A droplet of moisture rolled down her cheek and she wiped it away. Crying was for babies and she wasn’t a baby.

She was a bull rider.

Chapter Six

“Look who came for a visit,” Buck said, glancing up from the playing cards in his hand.

“It’s Saturday night. I expected everyone to be at a rodeo or a bar.” Johnny shut the door and joined Buck and Will at the picnic-sized table the brothers had built for the bunkhouse.

Only three days had passed since Johnny had brought Shannon home from the hospital, but with Clive out of town being all alone with her at the ranch was driving him nuts. Twice today she’d texted that she needed to talk with him, but he’d made excuses and put her off. He knew they needed to confront what they’d done in Gila Bend, but for reasons he didn’t understand, he kept chickening out.

“Porter and Conway drove over to Tubac for the Old World Rodeo Days,” Will said. “Conway made it to the final round, so they won’t be home until tomorrow.”

“You want in?” Buck nodded to the deck of cards.

“No, thanks.”

Buck dropped a piece of candy into the pot. “I’ll raise you one Smartie.”

“I stopped by to check on the place,” Johnny said.

Will added a piece of candy to the pot. “Did you think we’d destroy the bunkhouse once you moved out?”

There were no broken furniture, dents in the walls or stains on the cement floor. His brothers must be taking their squabbles outside. “Any leaks?” Two nights ago a storm had passed through the area, dumping a half inch of rain in less than an hour.

“The place is airtight,” Will said.

Will had a background in construction and had drawn up the plans for the bunkhouse, and then all the brothers had helped rough-in the plumbing and electrical before pouring the cement slab and installing the metal sides and roof. His siblings had protested trading in their full-size beds for twin beds, but in doing so, they’d left space for the picnic table, refrigerator and sink at one end of the room and a small bathroom, two sofas and two chairs that sat at the other end. In the middle was a row of single beds facing the opposite wall where a large flat-screen TV hung.

“What’s up with all the rodeo posters?” Johnny asked.

“Porter watches that design show
Dear Genevieve.
He’s got a big ol’ crush on that woman.” Buck rolled his eyes. “According to Genevieve, wallpaper gives any place a homey feel.”

“Porter wanted to put up some fleur-de-lis French crap,” Will said. “But we vetoed that and voted for the posters.”

“The photos of raging bulls and ominous bucking stock warm this place right up.” Johnny grinned. “Where’s Mack’s band playing tonight?”

“They’re not. Mack pulled the weekend shift at the dude ranch,” Buck said.

Caught up in his responsibilities at the Triple D Johnny had forgotten Mack had recently hired on as a wrangler at the Blackjack Mountain Dude Ranch. “How does he like the job?”

“He hasn’t said much about it.” Buck laid down his cards. “Four of a kind.”

“You lose.” Will showed a full house, then swept the pile of candy to his side of the table. “How’s Shannon?”

“She’s fine.” Not wanting to field questions about his boss’s daughter, Johnny scooted his chair back and stood. “Is Dixie inside? I didn’t see her truck parked in the yard.”

“She’s here. Her truck’s at Troy’s garage,” Buck said.

“What happened to it?” Johnny asked.

Buck shuffled the deck. “Stalled outside Yuma yesterday.”

“Why didn’t she call me?”

Will snorted. “You forgetting she’s married? Gavin picked her up and made arrangements for a tow.”

Johnny ignored the sharp twinge he felt at being knocked off the pedestal his sister had put him on all those years. “What’s wrong with the truck?”

“Alternator went out,” Buck said. “Troy had to order a new one.”

Buck had worked for the local mechanic on and off for the past five years and Johnny thought his brother should ask Troy if he could buy into his business and become a partner. Buck was a natural at fixing engines.

“How’s the construction business?” Johnny asked Will. His brother worked for a small family-run construction company owned and operated by Ben Wallace, a former high-school classmate of Will’s.

“Things are slow right now,” Will said.

“I better say hello to Dixie before I take off.”

Buck’s voice stopped Johnny at the door. “Come back anytime you get homesick.” His brothers chuckled.

On the way to the farmhouse Johnny paused to stare at the setting sun and recalled the afternoons he’d walked with his grandfather through the groves, listening to the old man talk about the life cycle of the pecan.

You’re the eldest, Johnny
.
I’m counting on you to keep these trees in the family.

Johnny hadn’t cared about the nuts, but he’d worshipped his grandfather and had made a solemn promise to fulfill his wishes. He walked to the front of the house, then entered without knocking as he’d done his whole life. He took one step toward the kitchen and froze. A feminine moaning sound drifted into the hallway.

Face burning hotter than a pancake skillet, Johnny did an about-face and made a dash for the door, but the tip of his boot clipped his grandmother’s umbrella stand and sent it crashing to the floor.

“Johnny?” His sister stood in the kitchen doorway, wearing only a bathrobe, her hair mussed and her lips swollen. “What’s wrong?”

Flustered, he said, “Don’t you think you ought to lock the door if you and Gavin plan to carry on like that in the house?”

Her eyes widened. “We weren’t
doing it
in the kitchen. I was making Gavin an ice cream float.”

Irritated that she mocked him, he scowled, which only egged her on more.

“I always make Gavin a float after we...you know...as a reward for being ready and willing anytime.”

Ready and willing?
“What the heck are you talking about?”

“My temperature, stupid.”

“What does your temperature have to do with having sex?”

“I’m ovulating, so we’re—”

“I get it.” Johnny’s anger died a quick death and he felt like an idiot for badgering her. “Sorry. I stopped by to ask you for a favor, but we can talk later.”

“Stay.”

Johnny trailed Dixie into the kitchen where she stopped at Gavin’s side and kissed his cheek.

Of all his siblings, Johnny was closest to Dixie and he missed not being the apple of his baby sister’s eye. Gavin nodded to Johnny but neither man made eye contact.

As Dixie helped Gavin make the floats, she asked, “What’s this favor you need?”

“I was hoping you could stop by the Triple D tomorrow and spend time with Shannon while I repair a section of fence along the highway.”

“Are you asking me to babysit her?” Dixie smiled.

“Clive’s out of town and he put me in charge of keeping tabs on Shannon so I’ve been sticking close to the ranch house.” Johnny crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve got to fix the break in the fence before I move the cattle into that area next week.”

“I could open the shop for you tomorrow,” Gavin said.

“You sure?”

Gavin nodded.

Dixie texted on her cell phone. “I told Shannon that I’d be over around eight in the morning.”

“Thanks, Dixie.” Johnny knew his sister would come through for him.

“How do you like having the foreman’s cabin all to yourself?” Gavin asked.

“The quiet takes getting used to.” He steered the conversation to Gavin’s work on a water reclamation project for the city of Yuma and a half hour passed before Johnny stood. “I better go.” He shook hands with Gavin.

“I’ll walk you outside,” Dixie said. When they stopped at his truck she spoke. “I’m worried about Shannon.”

“Why? What did she say in her text?”

“Nothing, but we talked on the phone yesterday and she sounded depressed.”

“You can cheer her up when you see her tomorrow.” He hopped into the truck.

“Why don’t you stop in town and buy her a bouquet of flowers? That will brighten her room.”

I don’t think so.
Until he and Shannon figured out what that night in Gila Bend was all about, he didn’t dare do anything that would give Shannon the wrong impression about his feelings—whatever the hell they were—for her.

“Shannon’s always looked up to you as a big brother.”

Why was he everyone’s big brother?

“Back in tenth grade she said I was the luckiest girl in the world because I had you for a big brother and she wished Matt and Luke treated her as nice.”

“I’ve known her brothers for years. They’re not mean.”

“No, but they never make time for Shannon.” Dixie leaned into the truck and kissed his cheek. “Watch over her, okay?”

Johnny shut the door and started the engine. He doubted Dixie would have asked him to look out for her best friend if she’d known he’d already slept with her.

* * *

“O
UCH
.” S
HANNON
WINCED
when Dixie pulled too hard on her hair.

Dixie smiled at Shannon in the mirror. “Bull riders aren’t supposed to whine.”

Shannon sighed. “Thanks for helping me.”

“You hate that, don’t you?”

“Hate what?”

“Needing help,” Dixie said.

“I was raised to be independent. If I’d had a grandmother who cared about me the way yours cared about you, I might not be stubborn.”

Dixie separated Shannon’s hair into three plaits and braided the ebony strands. “Do you know that my grandma wanted to adopt you?”

“No way.”

“Yes way. Grandma Ada would get so angry when you showed up at the farm with dirty hair and wax in your ears.”

Shannon shuddered. “Remember the afternoon I got my period?”

Both women laughed.

“And your grandfather’s stunned face when we burst into the kitchen and blurted that I was dying of some terrible disease because I had blood in my underwear.”

Dixie laughed so hard tears escaped her eyes. “Grandpa fled the house as if his overalls were on fire.”

“Then your grandma came inside and took us both upstairs to the bathroom and explained how a woman’s body worked and how to use the supplies she’d been keeping on hand for you when your time came,” Shannon said.

“Grandma Ada loved you as much as she loved me, Shannon.”

“I kept the quilt she made for me.”

“She’d be happy about that.” Dixie wrapped the end of the braid in an elastic band. “You know, every time we’ve talked about family it’s always been mine.”

“Your family is more entertaining.”

“I’m serious.” Dixie set the comb on the nightstand, then lifted Shannon’s broken leg onto the bed and arranged the pillows beneath it. “You never mention your mother.”

“Why would I? She walked out on my dad when I was a toddler and I haven’t had any contact with her since.”

“She’s never called you through the years?”

“Never. I overheard Matt and Luke talking about her once and I asked why she never visited us.” Shannon swallowed hard. After all these years it remained difficult to accept that her mother wanted nothing to do with her or her brothers. “Matt said she’d married an older man who didn’t have kids and moved out of state with him.”

“Where did she meet the guy?”

“I don’t know and if my dad knows he’d never say.”

“That’s rough. I’m sorry.”

Shannon blew off the sympathy. “I’m not the only kid on the block who grew up with a parent who didn’t care about them. Your father didn’t want anything to do with you or Johnny.”

“I might not have cared if our mother had paid more attention to us kids instead of spending her time searching for the perfect man.”

It was common knowledge that Aimee Cash’s boys had all been fathered by different men—none of whom she’d married. Most folks claimed Aimee had died of a broken heart, but there had been rumors that she’d overdosed on antidepressant pills.

“At least we had our grandparents. They loved us,” Dixie said.

“Wouldn’t it be nice if every kid had a childhood where both parents loved them?” Shannon said. “Speaking of childhoods...any news on the baby front?”

“Not yet, but the trying is fun.”

After their laughter died down, Shannon struggled to find a way to bring up the subject of Johnny. The longer he avoided her, the more doubts trickled into her mind. Before she considered how it would sound, she blurted, “I heard Johnny and Charlene broke up.”

If the change in subject startled Dixie, she didn’t show it. “Johnny said they’d been growing apart for a while.” She shook her head. “How does that happen to people? They stay together all those years and then call it quits without a backward glance.”

“I don’t know.” Shannon had never been in a long-term relationship.

“After all Gavin and I went through, if he left me, I’d never survive the heartache.”

“It’s too bad about Johnny and Charlene,” Shannon said, not feeling a bit sorry for the other woman.

“Speaking of relationships,” Dixie said. “I’m worried you’re still nursing a broken heart over C.J.”

“Why would you think that?”

“When we talked on the phone the other day, you sounded down in the dumps.”

“I’m over C.J. He can have all the buckle bunnies he wants and I don’t care.”

“I never could figure out what you saw in him,” Dixie said.

“There’s a lot more to C.J. than the public sees.”

“Like what?”

“He wouldn’t want me to share it with anyone, Dixie.” She’d promised C.J. she’d never tell anyone about his dysfunctional family. “Like us, he didn’t have a great childhood, either.” The problem with C.J. was that he didn’t trust anyone’s feelings for him and therefore couldn’t remain in a committed relationship.

“How are you and your dad getting along?” Dixie asked.

“Fine, why?”

“C’mon, Shannon, this is me you’re talking to.” Dixie rummaged through the cosmetic bag she’d brought to the house and held up two bottles of polish. “Vampire Red or Sorority Pink?”

“I don’t need my nails done,” Shannon protested.

“I went to all the work of giving you a pedicure—”

“Which I didn’t ask for, but thank you anyway.”

“Amuse me and let me paint your toenails.”

“Fine. Go ahead.”

“Which color?” Dixie asked.

“I don’t care.”

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