“She’s got pretty green eyes,” Porter said.
Johnny regretted asking Shannon to spend the afternoon with his family. “It’s none of your business what happens between me and Shannon.”
“That means there is something going on between you two,” Porter said.
Always the peacemaker, Buck came to Johnny’s defense. “Leave him alone, guys.”
“Time to eat.” Dixie waved her brothers to the table.
Johnny sat at the head and reached for the carving knife.
“Wait,” Mack said. “Shouldn’t Shannon sit next to you, Johnny?”
“I’m fine right where I am.” Shannon avoided eye contact with Johnny.
“Mack,” Conway said. “You and Buck shift over one seat and Shannon you sit here.” Conway vacated his chair, leaving Shannon no choice but to sit next to Johnny.
When everyone stopped shuffling around, Johnny asked, “Can I cut the turkey now?” The knife barely penetrated the meat. In order to get better leverage, he pushed his chair back and stood, then stabbed the meat fork deeper into the breast and gripped the knife handle tighter. It felt as if he was sawing a two-by-four. Frustrated he pressed the knife down harder and the bird flew off the plate and landed in Will’s lap.
“I may have cooked the turkey a little too long,” Shannon said sheepishly and everyone laughed.
Will set the bird on the counter. “After dinner I’ll cut off some of the meat and give it to Hank as a treat.”
Dixie fetched another turkey from the counter and set it in front of Johnny. “Try this one.” She winked at Shannon.
Johnny’s knife cut easily through the tender meat and in a matter of minutes everyone’s plate was piled high with food.
“Before we say grace, I have an announcement to make.” Dixie shared a smile with Gavin, then held up her water glass.
“Spit it out, Dix, before the food gets cold,” Porter said.
“Gavin and I are expecting.”
“Expecting what?” Porter asked.
Johnny slapped the back of his brother’s head. “A baby, stupid.”
“You’re pregnant?” Buck asked.
Dixie leaned down and kissed Gavin then said, “We’re pregnant.”
The brothers congratulated the couple and asked a million questions. Johnny remained silent as he ate, thinking it was odd that his baby sister was the first in the family to have a baby of her own.
Shannon nudged his arm. “Are you excited, Uncle Johnny?”
The sparkle in her green eyes mesmerized him. He couldn’t help but wonder what color eyes a child of theirs would end up with—Shannon’s deep green or his bright blue or a cross between both.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“I’m fine,” he said, knowing that was the furthest thing from the truth.
* * *
“I’M THRILLED FOR YOU, Dixie,” Shannon said as they washed and dried the dishes in the kitchen.
“Thanks.”
Shannon noticed Dixie’s somber face. “You don’t look happy for a woman who’s been trying to get pregnant for six months.”
“I’m excited.” Dixie peeled off the latex gloves she wore. “And I’m frightened.”
“Of miscarrying again?”
Dixie nodded. “I don’t want to lose another baby.”
“Your mother had seven children. You’ll be fine this time.”
“Grandma Ada had several miscarriages,” Dixie whispered. “And my mother was born six weeks early.”
“Try not to worry. Follow the doctor’s orders and leave the rest up to God.”
“Gavin’s as worried as I am.”
“So you two have talked about it?”
“No. He hasn’t said a word, but he watches my every move as if he’s waiting for me to stumble or double over in pain.”
“Gavin was a soldier—it’s in his DNA to be overprotective of those he loves.” She hugged Dixie. “How far along are you?”
“Seven weeks.” Dixie sighed. “There’s plenty of time for things to go wrong.”
“Stop thinking like that,” Shannon said. “Stay positive.” Easier said than done. Since her wreck on Heat Miser, she’d had plenty of experience with negative thoughts. Every time she felt a pain in her Achilles tendon it took all her strength to close the door on self-doubts and remain focused on her goal.
“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 discussin
g 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 o
n 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.”
The Cowboy Next Door (The Cash Brothers) Page 13
