Shannon’s face popped into Johnny’s mind. What would Dixie say if he told her that he had the hots for her best friend? “I’ll be too busy at the Triple D to mope.”
“Are you sure you want to move into the foreman’s cabin? It’s not that far of a drive between the farm and the ranch.”
“I’ll be back to visit, especially if Gavin’s cooking chili for supper.”
“Who’s going to run herd over the rest of our brothers?”
“It’s your turn to keep everyone in line, Dix.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“If any of them give you trouble let me know and I’ll bang a few heads together.”
Right then the bunkhouse door flew open and Porter, the youngest brother, stepped outside and ducked as a cereal box flew past his head. “I didn’t know you were going to ask her out!” he shouted.
“Looks like you’ll be knocking heads sooner rather than later,” Dixie said.
“Better see what Porter did this time.” Johnny skipped down the steps and cut across the yard to referee the latest fight between his caterwauling brothers.
* * *
“THE DOG FOOD is in a plastic bin beneath the kitchen sink.” Roger McGee dropped the key to the foreman’s cabin into Johnny’s hand. The end of August had arrived and with it a changing of the guards at the Triple D.
“I’ll make sure Hank gets fed twice a day.” Johnny felt bad for the old man as he watched the cowboy struggle to say goodbye to thirty years of his life. If dogs could talk, Hank would say he didn’t like his master’s departure any more than Roger did. The hound lay in the dirt next to the Ford pickup as if he intended to ride along to Florida.
“Sure you can’t take Hank to your sister’s?” Johnny asked.
“Animals ain’t allowed in the condo units.”
“If you ever move into your own place, I’d be happy to drive Hank to Florida.”
“That’s right nice of you.” Roger’s eyes glistened as he descended the porch steps. He stopped at Hank’s side and patted the dog’s head.
Johnny went into the cabin to retrieve the leash, giving the foreman and his dog some privacy. After a minute, he stepped outside and clipped the tether to Hank’s collar. The dog refused to budge.
“Best tie him up for a week or two after I’m gone. He might run off.”
“Will do.” Johnny would have to keep close tabs on Hank. A jaunt through the desert in the August heat might kill the twelve-year-old hound before he reached the highway.
Roger hopped into the truck and gunned the engine. The ranch hand and the boss had said their farewells earlier in the morning, so there would be no big send-off this afternoon.
“Be sure to check in with Clive during your trip.” Johnny leaned through the open passenger window and shook Roger’s hand a second time. “Take care of yourself.” He’d miss the geezer. Roger had taught him everything he knew about cattle and horses when he’d first hired on as a part-time wrangler for the ranch fifteen years ago.
The Ford pulled away and Johnny tightened his grip on the leash when Hank whined. After a quarter mile, a dust cloud obscured the truck from view. “Well, boy, it’s you and me now.”
Inside the cabin the dog went straight to his bed pillow in the kitchen corner, where he watched his new master through sad, droopy eyes. The pathetic stare prompted Johnny to fetch a Milk-Bone from the cookie jar Roger left behind, but the dog wanted nothing to do with the treat. “I’ll leave it right here, boy.” He set the bone on the floor. “In case you change your mind.”
Johnny stood in the middle of the cabin, facing the front door. The kitchen sat to his right, the family room to his left. Behind him was a short hallway with a door to the bathroom and one to the bedroom. The cabin had come furnished and included a washer and dryer, dishwasher, and a full set of cookware, dishes, utensils and linens. There was also a satellite dish and internet access. All he’d had to bring was his clothing, toiletries, laptop computer and his iPod.
After years of sharing a house with five brothers and a sister, the quietness of the cabin bothered Johnny, but he was certain he’d enjoy the solitude once he became accustomed to living alone. He might as well unpack his clothes. He made it as far as the hallway when the sound of horns honking penetrated the cabin walls.
The Cash welcome wagon had arrived.
After making sure Hank remained on his pillow, Johnny stepped onto the porch and shielded his eyes from the late-afternoon sun. A wall of dust moved along the horizon as the caravan of pickups drew closer.
His brothers parked helter-skelter in front of the cabin, then got out of their trucks. When Johnny saw them standing in a group, he was reminded again of his mother. All five Cash brothers sported various shades of her blond hair and brown eyes. Johnny and Dixie were the only siblings who shared the same father and they’d inherited Charlie Smith’s dark brown hair and blue eyes.
“Hey, Johnny,” Willie Nelson, who preferred to be called Will, spoke. “We brought food.”
“Did you bring a grill? ’Cause I don’t have one,” Johnny said.
“Got it covered.” Buck Owens walked to the back of his truck and lifted a Weber cooker from the bed. He set it by the porch. “Your housewarming gift.”
“Mighty thoughtful of you all.” Johnny recognized the dual purpose of the gift—to cook food and to use it as an excuse to drop by unexpectedly for a free meal. Now that Dixie was running her gift shop in Yuma, she rarely put supper on the table for the family. Johnny had done his best to grill a few dinners each week for the group, but now that he’d moved away from the farm, he suspected his brothers were worried they’d starve to death.
“Hey, Mack, what’s your housewarming gift for me?” Johnny teased.
Merle Haggard, or Mack, pulled out his guitar. “I’m going to christen this place with a lucky love song.” He winked. “Before you know it, you’ll have women busting down your door.”
Ever since Johnny’s brothers had learned about his breakup with Charlene, they’d been concerned he’d sink into a deep depression. Little did they know another woman had already replaced Charlene in his thoughts. He’d had no contact with Shannon since the morning after the rodeo in Gila Bend, but not an hour of the day passed by when she didn’t cross his mind.
“I bought you a case of your favorite beer.” Conway Twitty set the carton on the porch floor.
“I suppose Isi talked her boss into giving you a deal on that beer,” Johnny said.
“Who’s Isi?” Porter Wagoner glanced between the brothers.
Conway shot Johnny a dark look, then spoke to their youngest brother. “She’s just a friend.” Conway used to seek Johnny’s advice when he had a dilemma with girls but a while back he confessed that he’d found a new confidant—a waitress at the Border Town Bar & Grill.
“I haven’t had a chance to grocery shop. My fridge is empty,” Johnny said.
“We got all the fixin’s.” Will hauled two grocery sacks from the front seat of his truck. “Where should I put this stuff?”
“Inside. Don’t let Hank out.”
“Roger didn’t take Hank with him?” Mack sat on the steps with his guitar.
“No.”
Porter and Buck filled the belly of the cooker with charcoal, while Mack strummed his guitar and Conway sang off-key. Johnny went inside to help the second eldest Cash brother with the meal preparations. As much as he’d been hoping