Marin Thomas - A Cowboy of Her Own

Johnny ran his hand over the back of the sofa, and dog hair stuck to his fingers. “I guess Bandit’s been a regular visitor in here.”

“He only comes inside when it storms.”

“It hasn’t rained in over thirty days,” Johnny said.

“What do you care if I let the dog sleep in here? It’s not like you have to clean the place anymore.”

“You’re right. Better the dog in the bunkhouse than a bunch of buckle bunnies.”

“Hey, no matter what Conway says, I haven’t let a girl stay overnight in the bunkhouse since Isi and the twins moved to the farm. I know better.”

“We shouldn’t have let our Wednesday night poker game fall by the wayside.”

Porter emptied his sock drawer into the duffel. “If you guys would stop procreating, you might have a free day to play cards.”

“The love bug will bite you one of these days,” Johnny said. “You wait and see.”

“I’ve got more important things to do than worry about finding the right woman to settle down with.” Besides, how was he supposed to meet the perfect lady when he drove a stock trailer all day?

Johnny stared him square in the eye. “You think you’ll keep this job long-term?” He was really asking if Porter would grow bored of transporting bulls and quit as he’d done with previous jobs.

“You want an honest answer or you want me to make something up?”

“Honest.”

Porter sat on the bed and expelled a heavy breath. “I think so.”

“You think so?”

“Sometimes I wish I’d given college a try.” He’d never talked to his brothers about the restless feeling he’d battled daily since graduating from high school.

“Why didn’t you?” Johnny asked. “You made decent grades and with our family’s situation you’d have qualified for financial aid to help pay the tuition.”

“I didn’t know what I wanted to study. But I’ve been thinking—”

“That’s dangerous.”

“Ha-ha. Buck’s dream of owning a car-repair business came true, so why can’t I make my dream come true?”

“What’s your dream?”

“I’ve always wanted a piece of land to call my own.”

“You mean like a ranch?”

Porter nodded. “We grew up on the pecan farm, but it’s really Conway’s now. One day you and Shannon are going to run the Triple D. And I bet it’s not long before Mack buys in to a partnership at the Black Jack Mountain Dude Ranch.”

“If you had your own ranch, what would you raise?”

“Bucking stock.” Porter recalled the strength and talent of Starry Night at yesterday’s rodeo. “Broncs.”

“You have a lot of competition in the area,” Johnny said.

“The rodeo circuit keeps expanding. There’s room for more good horses.”

“Have you thought about where you’d buy this ranch?”

“There’s a property for sale in the Fortuna Foothills.” The land was east of Yuma but still considered part of the metropolitan area. He wouldn’t be far from his siblings if he moved out there.

“How many acres?”

“Twenty-five. Enough for a handful of horses.”

“If you want it bad, let’s find a way to make it happen.”

It was just like Johnny to step in and take charge. Porter appreciated the support, but he intended to figure out the future on his own. He knew for sure that he didn’t want to haul rodeo bulls the rest of his life, but he needed to prove to himself that he could stick with the job or investing in a business would be a waste of his money and effort.

“Thanks for the offer, but my first priority is to do my job well and not give Buddy Davidson a reason to fire me.”

“Are you nervous about this trip?” Johnny always sensed when one of his brothers was uneasy.

“A little. It’s twelve hours from here to Grand Junction, Colorado, where I pick up the bulls.” His previous runs had been across southern Arizona—no more than five hours each way. This trip would last an entire week.

“What has you worried?” Johnny asked. “The roughstock growing restless or you?”

“It won’t be me.” Porter grinned. “I’ve got company on this trip.”

“Who?”

“Remember Dixie’s friend Wendy Chin?”

“Sure. She was part of that crazy group of girls who helped Shannon promote her bull-riding tour a few summers ago.”

“Wendy works for American Livestock Insurance and she’s coming along for the ride.”

“Never heard of an insurance rep doing that before.”

Neither had Porter, but there wasn’t much he could do about the situation. “She’s monitoring my driving habits and how I handle the bulls.”

“I guess it doesn’t matter why she’s going on the trip as long as you remember she’s Dixie and Shannon’s friend. Keep—”

“My hands to myself. I know.” Johnny acted as if Porter planned to jump Wendy’s bones as soon as she climbed into the truck cab. “Wendy isn’t my type.”

“Good. Keep it that way.”

The last thing Porter wanted was to become tangled up with Wendy Chin—an educated career woman with a mind of her own. Her diminutiveness might bring out a man’s protective instincts, but he suspected Wendy could handle almost anything and anyone she crossed paths with.

“When are you leaving in the morning?” Johnny asked.

“As soon as Wendy gets here. I told her she could leave her car at the farm.”

“Have her park it behind the barn so the twins don’t mess with it.”

“Good thinking.” He waited for Johnny to grab his hat and mosey along, but his brother didn’t budge. “Something else on your mind?”

“Not really.”

Porter laughed. “Spit it out.”

“I guess it’s more difficult than I expected.”

“What’s that?”

“Accepting that all my brothers have grown up and they don’t need me anymore.”

Porter smothered a smile behind his hand. The strongest brother, the one who’d defended his siblings against playground bullies and as a result had made multiple trips to the principal’s office, looked like a lost kid. “It doesn’t matter how old we become,” Porter said. “You’ll always be our big brother and the go-to guy for advice.”

Johnny released a loud breath. “I’m glad, because all I’ve ever wanted is for my siblings to be happy.”

“It was tough when Grandma and Grandpa died, but I wasn’t scared, because I knew you’d be there for me.” Porter studied his boots before looking Johnny in the eye. “Remember when Mom died? You were worried about me because I didn’t want to talk about it.”

“I remember.”

“The reason I didn’t say much is because I didn’t feel sad and I thought I was supposed to. Then I found you crying down by the pond and I felt guilty that I couldn’t even shed a tear for my own mother.”

Porter had never told a soul about his eldest brother’s crying jag because he’d been so shaken at the sight. That night he’d realized that Johnny wasn’t a superhero but a human being. “You were the family rock, Johnny. Even before Mom passed on, we turned to you when we needed help.” Porter shoved a hand through his hair and paced in front of the TV. “I pretended Mom’s passing didn’t affect me because I didn’t want you to worry about me.”

“Mom’s death did bother you.”

“Not for the reasons you think.” Porter shrugged. “I never got to ask about my father. I know the rest of you had had conversations with her about your fathers, but she and I never had that talk.”

“Did you find out his name?” Johnny asked.

“Nope.” Porter laughed the sound bitter. “And I actually wanted to know who he was.”

“I’m sorry. But maybe it was for the best.”

“Maybe.” When his brothers had reached out to their biological fathers, they’d been rejected. “I’m slowly coming to grips with the possibility that I’ll never know who my dad is.”