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ignore the crack about earning a living. Cody had a hard time talking about retirement. If he could have his way he never would.
    “Don’t worry. I won’t let ’em near one of my bulls ’til I know if they got any glue on the seat of their pants,” Cody assured him. “Those bulls mean too much to me.”
    Johnny laughed. “Not the bulls. I meant for the riders. What if one of them breaks a leg or something?”
    “Never too early to get broke in,” Cody said with a grin. “Pain is just a by-product of bull riding, and they better get trained to it young. They got health insurance. Sam wouldn’t send them out if they didn’t.”
    “When’ll they get there?”
    “We’ll have the ranch all to ourselves for three days before they show up.” Cody stared at Johnny’s groin and licked his lips. “The first class will go a week, unless they all drop out. Then if Sam likes our style, he might send another bunch of riders our way. After that we have to work the two-year-old bulls. The more I can get out bucking this year, the better.”
    “I was thinking of working through the break. Vern asked me if we could keep the team together for the summer tour,” Johnny started. “Said as a team we’re clicking and—”
    “You don’t want to do that,” Cody said authoritatively. “You guys already work like you’ve been together for years. You need a break as much as I do. Stay home with me.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
    “I’ll think about it, but it’s a great opportunity—”
    “Great,” Cody said with satisfaction. “It’s all settled. We’ll work out and get in really good shape for September.”
    “And then you’ll win the top prize,” Johnny teased.
    “I try to plan ahead,” Cody said modestly. “A few of the other guys might have the same idea. I’ll do my best but it’s not in the bag yet.”
    “Yet.”
    Cody held up a finger as the loudspeaker blared. “They’re starting to board our flight. It’ll be great to get home.”

    W HENEVER they returned to the ranch, Johnny felt more relaxed at each stage of the journey. He was no star, but Cody was, and the strain of monitoring every expression and impulse to touch was tiring when they were at an NBR event. He enjoyed the flight on the prop plane to the Santa Barbara Airport. It was a small plane, and no one took any notice of the two cowboys sitting with their broad shoulders pressed together. Someone from the ranch would have left Cody’s truck for them, and all they had to do was find it in the lot.
    Cody would always drive, or possibly speed was a better way of describing it. Maybe it was good they spent so much time on the road, or Cody would have spent it in traffic school instead. After following Route 101 toward Santa Rafael, Cody would turn onto the winding road that led up into the hills where the ranch was. He always drove with one hand, the other hanging out the window, steering past the row of houses where the ranch hands lived with their own families, over the log bridge, and right up to the big house. Even though they lived in the bungalow a couple hundred yards farther on, Cody still thought of the place where his parents lived as home, and stopped there first.
    Johnny got out and stretched, feeling stiff more from being confined in the airplane than the ride from the landing field. “It’s nice to be back.”
    “You’re allowed call it home.”
    Cody held out a hand to him but Johnny didn’t take it. They’d been together for two years, but he wasn’t used to touching Cody in front of anyone yet, let alone his parents. Johnny was still on public behavior.
    “I’m still getting used to the idea.”
    “I bet Mom has supper ready.”
    “I miss her cooking.”
    Letting his shoulder nudge Cody’s as they walked to the screen door, Johnny felt the final stage of relaxation come over him. Being on the road with Cody was great, but he had to watch himself. Here it