The Cowboy Next Door (The Cash Brothers)

by Thomas, Marin

  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 questi
on?”

  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.

  * * *

  AS 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.”

  “I have to do this.” She put on her Kevlar vest and protective headgear.

  P.T. loaded Curly into a makeshift chute and Johnny remained inside the pen, ready to open the gate when she signaled.

  He waited for her to climb onto Curly’s back but she didn’t budge from the top rail. He couldn’t get a good look at her eyes through the wire face mask but he noticed that she’d forgotten to put on her riding glove.

  She’s nervous.

  When P.T. glanced his way, Johnny gave a nod, signaling that he was aware of Shannon’s hesitation.

  “If you two don’t mind,” P.T. said, “I’ve got business calls to make. I’ll be in the house if you need me.”

  As soon as the rancher walked off, Shannon expelled a loud breath.

  “You okay?” Johnny asked.

  “Nerves I guess.”

  He wanted to mention the riding glove but Shannon would figure that out soon enough. Right now she had to overcome her fear of climbing onto Curly’s back.

  She eased onto the bull’s back and wiggled into position. Johnny handed her the end of the bull rope and Shannon cursed. “Why didn’t you tell me I’d forgotten to put on my glove?” She hopped off and rummaged through her gear bag. With her glove on she climbed the rails and dropped onto Curly’s back. Not until she reached for the rope again did she realize what she’d done. She cracked a smile. “Maybe the trick is staying pissed off.”

  “Maybe.”

  She took her time securing her grip. He wanted to tell her that second-guessing the wrap would only whittle away at her confidence, but he remained silent, giving her room to work through her anxiety. Satisfied with her grip, she braced herself and said, “Ready.”

  He opened the gate and Curly jumped out. His bucks were solid but he had no speed or energy, which allowed Shannon to make adjustments with her body and test the strength in her leg.

  He counted the seconds off in his head and was pleased when eight came and went and Shannon continued to ride, working on her rhythm. After a few more seconds he saw her gaze shift to the ground and he knew she was looking for an opening to dismount. When Curly came out of his spin, she released the rope and pushed off with her left leg. She landed too close to Curly, but the bull trotted off and proved no threat. Shannon got to her feet, took one step and stumbled.

  He lurched forward and grasped her shoulders. “What’s wrong?”


  “Leg cramp.”

  Johnny wanted to believe Shannon’s leg would get better with time but he had serious doubts the tendon would ever be a hundred percent again.

  She limped back to the chute.

  After coaxing Curly into the space, he waited for Shannon to give him the signal. It wasn’t until the fifth go-round that she raised her hand for help getting off the ground.

  “I think we’re done.” He tugged her to her feet.

  “I’ll tell you when I’ve had enough.”

  He stepped in front of her when she attempted to walk back to the chute. “Look, Shannon. There’s no sense pushing yourself too hard today—not if you want to return tomorrow and practice.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “You’re right.” She piled her gear inside the bag and he tossed it into the truck bed.

  “I’ll take Curly back to his spot next to the barn, then run up to the house and tell P.T. we’re leaving.”

  “Johnny.” Tears shimmered in her eyes.

  Damn it, she’d pushed herself too hard. He should have stopped her after she’d ridden Curly twice. “What?”

  “Thank you for helping me. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  He squeezed her hand. “Hang tight. I’ll get you home so you can ice your leg.”

  * * *

  THE TRIP TO Five Star Ranch set up a pattern for the next several days. Johnny did ranch chores early in the morning, and then he and Shannon made the drive to P.T.’s to practice in the afternoon, and later at night he helped her work on the mechanical bull back at the Triple D. Dead tired, he crammed in an hour training Bear before bed. He needed to make more time for the horse but Shannon was his first priority.

  The day of reckoning had arrived—Clive was due home tomorrow and although Johnny had gotten Bear to accept a saddle, the horse still wouldn’t allow Johnny to ride him. Intending to fix that now, he saddled the gelding and put him in the corral.

  “Stay calm, big guy.” Johnny tied the reins to the rail and slung a leg over the horse. As soon as his butt hit the leather, Bear reared and Johnny went flying.