Rolling his shoulders, Johnny rubbed at his ribs. Falling off Sugar that last time definitely made an impression. She wasn’t letting him on her and Michael had about had it with the animal’s stubborn streak.

 

Lisa had pulled up only a few moments before. Usually her appointments with Sara Beth lasted just over an hour.

 

Michael had asked Johnny to check the stability of all the posts along the house side of the barn. The job wouldn’t take more than an hour and Johnny welcomed a break from trying to get Sugar to be friendlier. His ribs couldn’t handle another try right then anyway.

 

Pushing open the door, he glanced toward the house. Just one glimpse of Sara Beth would make his day not so boring. Michael had him running chores left and right – little piddly jobs that a twelve-year-old could do.

 

Lisa pounded around the corner of the deck. Reaching the steps, she bounded down them two at a time, coming to a halting crash on the hard cement, her hands bracing her from slamming her face into the rough surface. Pausing there, her hair creating a curtain around her face, her shoulders heaved.

 

Looking around, Johnny’s first instinct was to hold up his hands and back away. He needed a witness that he hadn’t done anything to her. Knowing the girl, like he did, her first reaction would be to sue something – him.

 

But her sobs were real and she slapped the flat of her hand on the ground.

 

At the scuff of his boot, she jerked upright, pushing at her hair and swiping her cheeks. She glared – the sting of which blunted by blotchy cheeks and streaked black mascara. “What do you want? Come to gloat?”

 

“Gloat? Lisa, I’m working. Same as you.” He ducked his head, pressing his lips together as he tried to inspect her. “Are you okay?” He didn’t really care, but he wouldn’t be human to see that kind of sadness and not react in some manner.

 

She shook her head and stood, tossing her dark hair back with a flip. “I’m fine.”

 

“You’re not fine. What happened?” Had Lisa and Sara Beth gotten in a fight? Was Sara Beth okay? He glanced anxiously in the direction of the deck.

 

Following his gaze with her own, Lisa’s laugh came as more of a bark. “Apparently, your little sweetheart and I are sisters.” She looked down and to the side, her arms crossed over her middle.

 

“What?” Sisters? How could they be sisters? They didn’t even look alike. Sara Beth had never said anything to him about that. What was Lisa doing? Was it another one of her lies?

 

Lisa smirked, giving a quick jerk of her head. “Bet you didn’t see that one coming, Johnny-boy. What do you do now?” She brushed her hands on her jeans and strolled past him, head high. “It’s not like you can fall for sisters, right? Isn’t that against some rules from an ethical committee?”

 

But Johnny hadn’t been with Lisa without learning about her.

 

She may not have been trampled by whatever had happened between them. Because in all the time they’d been together, he’d never seen her cry. A hand on her arm, he stopped her. “How are you sisters?”

 

“Apparently, we have the same dad – not sure of the details. I’m not sticking around to get played.” But doubt crossed her face and her firm jaw line softened. She stared at him defiantly, like her decision to leave had anything to do with getting his permission.

 

Crunching gravel announced the arrival of another vehicle. Johnny, hand still holding Lisa, glanced beyond her face and froze.

 

A metallic blue, four-door Ford truck pulled in behind Lisa’s work rig. Johnny didn’t need to see beyond the limo-style tinted windows to know who rode the seat like a John Wayne himself.

 

Slowly, Johnny dropped his hand from Lisa’s arm and stepped away from her. While his hands stayed at his sides, he had the distinct impression he’d been caught by the worst authority he could have imagined. Barely moving his lips, he whispered. “Lisa, it’s Tim.”

 

She whirled toward the newcomer, arms akimbo. She stumbled to the side, catching herself on the side panel of her truck.

 

Climbing from the large rig, Uncle Tim hoisted his three-inch belt higher under his enormous gut and strode with his hands waving around him like treading water. Dark glasses under a white woven cowboy–style hat couldn’t disguise his disgust as he inspected the truck Lisa’s hand had fallen on.

 

Stopping feet from Johnny and Lisa, Uncle Tim set his jaw to the side, a large chaw protruding from his cheek. “Aren’t you the tart that’s suing us for harassment?” He leaned just a bit and spit a large stream of brown juice onto the grass.

 

Lisa folded her arms across her chest and jerked her chin into the air. “I’m the tart that’s taking you for a lot of money.” Her lips curved like she threw down a taunt.

 

Anger lit the fire in his uncle’s eyes. Johnny pressed his tongue to the back of his clenched teeth. He’d never had to stick up to his uncle. He didn’t think he could do it with an audience, especially with that person being Lisa.

 

“Whatdya doin’, boy? I told you to get up here and learn something from Old Man Rourke. Not chase every skirt you come in contact with.” He shook his head, trembling jowls shaking with his movement. “You’re as bad as a dammed ole stud who’s not allowed into pasture anymore. I’d be proud of you, except you keep going and getting the Circuit in trouble.” He held up his fist, gripping a folded piece of white paper.

 

“What’s that?” Johnny had no idea what his uncle was talking about or what he was doing up that way. Tim was supposed to be in Helena organizing a committee meeting on the next year’s Circuit schedule. Not exactly something he could just get out of or easily reschedule.

 

Shaking the paper so the edges fluttered, Tim snarled, “It’s an application from a…” He consulted the paper, glaring at the lines. “Sara Beth Scott. She gives this as her address. The only reason I recognized it is because I had just completed filling out a forwarding address form for you. So imagine my surprise when I discover that another competitor for Miss Wrangler Montana has a connection with you.”

 

Sara Beth had applied? That wasn’t possible. She couldn’t ride or even walk for the runway portion. How…

 

Tim stepped closer, the musky sweetness of his favorite chewing tobacco buffeting toward Johnny with each shouted word. “Did you put her up to this? Are you and this girl working together?” He pointed toward Lisa, his face swelling with red outrage. “Do you think you’re going to get my money? You’ll get nothing!” Brown flecks of spittle covered his chin, mingling with the stubble that came from not shaving for half a day.

 

Johnny held up his hands. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t know Sara Beth applied.”

 

“Well,” Tim stepped back, head bobbing like a bobble head. “You tell her she doesn’t stand a chance. I’m not going to let her in because of you. Find out how that makes her feel about you and this whole situation.”

 

“I would imagine she wouldn’t care.” Sara Beth’s called from the deck, strong tones carried across the short distance as if she sat inches away.

 

Oh, boy, cow manure was about to get flung.