One Good Cowboy. Catherine Mann

never made a secret of the fact that I want my family to take me seriously.” Her hair swished over her shoulder, the porch light catching on the gems in the Aztec design of her hair clamp. “I’m just weighing in with my thoughts on this whole ‘test’ game. This is not the way to decide the future of our family legacy.”

      “What’s your test?”

      “Gran hasn’t told me yet. Or Alex, either, for that matter.” Amie scrunched her nose. In frustration? Or at the smoky scent of a bonfire launching an acrid tint to the night breeze? “But after what she set up for Stone, I’m not hopeful mine will make sense. I’m just trying to protect us all.”

      Johanna thumbed a knotty circle on the armrest. “How is talking to me going to accomplish that?”

      “You’re the only one who has ever come close to getting through the walls Stone puts around himself. I just hope you’ll make sure he’s okay.”

      Johanna sat up straighter. “Excuse me?”

      “Be sure he doesn’t crack up over this.”

      “Crack up? Stone? He’s rock-solid—no pun intended.”

      Amie clamped Johanna’s arm in a surprisingly strong grip. “I’m worried about him, okay? He doesn’t have a support system like I do. My brother and I can tell each other everything. Stone is our family, but he’s never let himself get close to us. And I’m worried about him right now.”

      There was no denying the sincerity in her voice.

      “That’s really sweet of you.” Johanna felt bad for assuming the worst. “I do care about Stone, even though we can’t be together. He’s a strong man. He will grieve for Mariah—we all will—but he will haul himself through. He always does.”

      Even as she said it, she couldn’t ignore a niggling voice in the back of her mind reminding her that Stone’s childhood had been very different from her own or that of his twin cousins. His grandmother had been his only bedrock of support.

      Amie’s hand slid away. “Just keep what I said in mind. That’s all I ask.” Cradling her cat in her arms, she stood. “Good night and good luck with your trip.”

      “Thank you...” She had a feeling she would need luck and more to get through the coming week. She needed a plan and stronger boundaries to protect her heart.

      “Anytime,” Amie called over her shoulder as strolled down the steps as though she were taking a runway scene by storm, leaving her shoes behind, her other cat following her into the night.

      Scooping up her junk mail, Johanna shoved to her feet. She needed to start packing now if she wanted any chance of getting to bed at a reasonable time. Not that she expected to sleep much with her brain whirling a million miles an hour.

      She’d tried to make this place her own, with everything from sunflowers in the front yard to a quilted wreath on the door. Hokey? Maybe. But she’d dreamed of hokey and normal as a kid listening to the rain rattling along the tin roof of their trailer.

      She pushed her way inside. The scent of freshly waxed floors and flowers greeted her, but not even a cat or dog of her own. So many times she’d wondered why she never chose a pet for herself, just took care of other people’s....

      Wait.

      Her nose twitched.

      Waxed floors and...flowers? She didn’t have any inside, not even a floral air freshener.

      Patting along the wall, she found the switch and flipped on the light. A wagon wheel chandelier splashed illumination around the room full of fat stuffed furniture in paisley patterns, a girly escape for a tomboy in a dusty, mucky profession. She spun to scan the room, her eyes landing on her shabby chic sofa.

      Where a man was sprawled out asleep.

      Her gaze skated from the boots on the armrest, up muscular legs in jeans, past a Diamonds in the Rough belt buckle, to broad shoulders in a blue flannel shirt. For a second, she thought Stone had followed her here. A straw cowboy hat covered the man’s face as he snored softly.

      Although once she looked closer, she realized it wasn’t Stone at all. It was his near twin. His cousin Alex was asleep on her sofa, with a fistful of wild daisies on his chest.

      As she saw him waiting there for her, she couldn’t help but think, Amie and Alex didn’t tell each other everything.