A Cowboy of Her Own. Marin Thomas
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pointed to the table against the wall. “I’ve finished ten.”
Wendy selected several sprigs of greenery and copied her mother’s design. When she finished, she held up the vase. “Good enough?”
“Perfect.”
They worked in comfortable silence for a half hour before Wendy spoke. “I’m traveling on business next week.”
“Where to?”
“Colorado. I’m documenting livestock drivers for our annual report.” No need to explain that she’d be monitoring just one driver. Her parents were old-fashioned and wouldn’t approve of her being alone with a man, even if that man was her friend’s brother.
“You’ve never done that before.”
“My boss believes it’s important that I have a good understanding of the transport process when I’m working claims for missing or injured livestock.” The less her mother knew the better. Wendy didn’t want word getting out that American Livestock Insurance was doing their own investigation into Del Mar’s missing bulls after the sheriff’s search had stalled out.
Buddy Davidson had been with American Livestock for fifteen years and had never had a bull go missing until a few months ago, when he’d filed claims for three. If that wasn’t suspicious enough, Wendy had interviewed Glen Fenderblast, Buddy’s ranching neighbor, and he’d said that Buddy had his eye on buying a bull named Happy Hour worth $1.2 million. The payout on Buddy’s missing roughstock would cover half the cost of the new bull. Before Carl Evans, Wendy’s boss, cut Buddy a check, he wanted to make certain that Del Mar Rodeo wasn’t trying to swindle its insurance company. The ride-along was their last chance to uncover any information that might be useful to the sheriff’s case.
Wendy had her doubts that Porter was involved in any illegal activity since he’d been hired right after Buddy had reported the lost bulls, but she had to be objective and look closely at everyone who worked for Del Mar Rodeo.
“Is there a promotion in this for you?” her mother asked.
Wendy had been promoted a little over a year ago, a fact that her parents frequently forgot. “I doubt Carl is ready for me to take over his job.”
As an only child and a daughter, she felt the weight of her parents’ high expectations of her. The constant pressure to climb the proverbial career ladder was overwhelming. She wanted more out of life than working twelve-hour days.
“Is the company paying for your motel room?”
“Yes.” Wendy finished a second arrangement and placed the vase on the table.
“When are you leaving?”
“Monday morning. I won’t return until the following Sunday.”
“You’ll check in with us.” It wasn’t a request or suggestion—it was an order.
“I’m twenty-six years old. I shouldn’t have to report my daily whereabouts and activities to my parents.”
“Then find a husband and get married so he can worry about you.”
Grrr...
“By the way, your father’s taking one of his suppliers to dinner tonight and he’d like you to join them.”
Not again. Wendy wished her dad would stop playing matchmaker. Even though her parents had been born in the United States, they clung to their traditional beliefs and wanted their only child to marry a hardworking, dedicated Chinese man so there would be no cultural clashes in the family. Wendy walked a fine line between two worlds, struggling to balance embracing the American way of life while still respecting her Chinese ancestry.
Unbeknownst to her parents, she had lost her heart in college to a classmate at Arizona State University. Tyler had been spontaneous, adventurous and exciting. They’d dated almost a year when Wendy found out by accident that he was engaged to a girl in his hometown of Tucson. The two-timing jerk had broken her heart and left her gun-shy when it came to serious relationships.
After graduating from college, she’d returned to Yuma and dated Asian men her father had selected for her. Polite, educated and dedicated to their careers, the men were everything her parents believed important. But none of them had made her heart stumble or her pulse quicken. Wendy wanted to marry a man she fell in love with, not a man her parents believed she’d be compatible with.
Wendy had grown up watching her parents toil in the flower shop seven days a week, year after year, and that wasn’t the life she dreamed of. She deserved more from a marriage than a working partnership. And she yearned for a man she could have fun with. The men she’d dated would never put their children or wives ahead of their careers. Wendy didn’t want to be number two in her husband’s heart. She wanted to be his top priority.
Porter’s image flashed before her eyes. He knew how to have fun. She’d be lying if she didn’t admit she was looking forward to traveling with him. But she wasn’t so naive as to believe anything could come of a week on the road with the cowboy.
“Make your father happy,” her mother said. “Go to dinner with him.”
Fine. “When do I need to be ready?”
“Seven-thirty. And wear that aqua dress you bought last spring. That looks nice on you.”
“Can you handle the rest of the arrangements if I grab a quick shower?”
“Go ahead. I’ve already done half of them myself.”
Feeling a tad guilty for leaving her mom with a table full of empty vases—but not too guilty since she’d been coerced into accepting a blind date—Wendy kissed her mother’s cheek and left the shop. As she drove across town, she lectured herself. As much as she anticipated the upcoming trip with Porter, she needed to keep her priorities straight and focus on finding information that would help locate Buddy’s missing bulls.
Time would tell if she uncovered any evidence that pointed to Porter. For Dixie’s sake—and maybe a little bit for her sake, too—she hoped her friend’s brother was on the up and up.
“Porter!”
“In here!” Porter stuffed the last pair of briefs into the duffel bag resting on the bed in the bunkhouse. The door opened and in walked Johnny. “It’s Sunday night. Why aren’t you home watching TV with Shannon and Addy?”
“Mack said you were heading out on a weeklong run tomorrow, and we haven’t had a chance to talk in a while.”
“Checking up on me?” Because of their age difference, the eldest Cash sibling was more of a father than a brother to Porter.
Johnny tossed his cowboy hat on the table and gestured to the rodeo posters on the wall. “We had some good parties in here, didn’t we?”
“Yeah, we did. Then you and everyone else got hitched and left me all by my lonesome.”
“I doubt you feel lonely when you don’t have to wait in line for a shower and you can watch whatever television program you want.” Johnny picked up the remote and pointed it at the flat screen. The Nickelodeon channel came on. “You’re hanging out with the twins too much.”
“Mig and Javi are the only ones who visit me.” Conway and Isi were busy taking care of their new twin daughters and the boys had turned to Porter for attention.
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