She had learned long ago to put the "if only's" behind her, she reminded herself. It didn't do any good to dream about what might have been. Scooping the slices of French toast off the griddle, she turned and pasted a bright smile on her face. "Breakfast, Cassie," she called.
Cassie came bounding into the kitchen and slid into her chair. "Are we going to eat at the rodeo?" she asked as she poured syrup on her plate.
"Probably." Becca slid a piece of French toast onto her own plate and sat down at the table. "But I'm not sure when we'll eat, so finish your breakfast."
Cassie grinned at her, cheeks full of syrupy toast. "Mr. Farrell used to be in the rodeo, you know. Is he going to ride bulls today?"
"No. He doesn't compete in rodeos anymore."
The child's face fell, then she brightened. "I bet he'd show me how he used to ride bulls if I asked him."
"You can't do that, Cassie," Becca answered sharply, then took a deep breath. "He has reasons for why he stopped riding in rodeos," she said more gently. "You don't want to make him feel uncomfortable by asking him about his reasons."
"Maybe he'll be at the rodeo today, just watching. He could tell me what the riders were doing."
"I'm sure he'd do that, if he was at the rodeo." She pressed her lips together, unsure of what to say to Cassie. If Grady had changed his mind, she didn't want her daughter to be upset. On the other hand, if he did show up, she didn't want Cassie to seem too surprised. Grady would know she hadn't told Cassie, and he would know she'd been afraid he wouldn't keep his word.
Somewhere in this ugly mix of hurt, regret and anger, she had to take the first step toward trust. Taking a deep breath, she said, "Grady is going to take us to the rodeo today. So you can ask him all the questions you want."
Cassie's face lit up and she bounced up and down in the chair. "Yes!" she yelled, waving her fork in the air. "That will be awesome, Mom!"
Becca was glad that at least Cassie thought so. She wasn't so sure, herself. From his reaction at the ranch the other day, she knew that he hadn't given up the rodeo willingly. And she suspected that going back as a spectator today would be hard for him. She hoped he wasn't regretting his promise. Or even worse, regretting that he'd agreed to spend the time with her and Cassie.
As she watched Cassie wolf down the rest of her French toast, she thought again of what might have been. A picture of Grady sitting at the table with them, eating breakfast together like a family, filled her mind. He'd turn to her and they'd share a parent's secret smile at Cassie's enthusiasm for the rodeo. Then they'd walk, hand in hand, to the fairgrounds a few blocks away.
Becca forcibly pushed the mental image away. That wasn't reality and wasn't likely to be. Right now she'd settle for Grady giving up some of his anger at her. Right now, she admitted, she'd settle for a single smile from him.
Pushing away from the table, she said briskly, "Go upstairs and get your clothes on, Cass. We want to be ready when Grady gets here."
"When is he coming?" her daughter asked, leaping up from her chair.
"Not for a while. I'm sure. The gates to the fairgrounds don't even open until ten o'clock."
"Okay." Cassie turned and dashed up the stairs. Becca knew she'd be dressed and ready to go in record time today.
* * *
Shortly before ten o'clock she heard Grady's truck pull into the driveway. Her heart started a slow thudding that she told herself was nerves. When his footsteps echoed on the wooden stairs of the front porch, she fluttered her hands over her sundress, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles, then hurried to the door.
"Good morning, Grady," she said, holding the door open for him to enter.
He looked around, and she realized that he'd never been in this part of her house. She tried to imagine what the living-room furniture, just this side of shabby, and the slightly faded rug covering the wooden living-room floor would look like through his eyes. Then she raised her chin a notch. She wouldn't apologize for the fact that she didn't have a lot of money.
His gaze met hers, and she saw an awareness in them that made her uncomfortable. Finally he said softly, "I like your house, Becca. It's very welcoming."
"Thank you," she murmured. "Come in while we wait for Cassie to get ready."
"I am ready," her daughter yelled as she came flying down the stairs. "Hi, Mr. Farrell," she said, breathless. "I'm ready to go."
Becca saw Grady's gaze linger on the child, and she thought his eyes softened, just a little. "Well, then, let's get in the truck and go to the rodeo."
Becca knew that only she would have seen the pain, deep in his eyes, as he spoke. Wanting to reach out to him, to ease his pain somehow, she touched his arm.
When he turned to stare at her, she almost snatched her hand away. But deep in Grady's eyes she saw a flicker of something that wasn't pain, something that made fire race through her veins and made her heart crash against her chest.
They stood staring at each other for what felt like hours. "Let's go," Cassie said from behind her, and Becca jerked her hand away from him. Grady turned to the child.
"Hop in my truck, cowgirl."
"Wait," Becca said. "The fairgrounds are only a few blocks away, and parking is usually a nightmare. Why don't we leave your trick here and walk over?"
Grady shrugged. "Fine with me. Lead the way."
As they walked down the street, joining in the stream of people heading to the fairgrounds, Becca looked over at Grady, walking on the other side of Cassie. If she tried, she could almost imagine that they were a family, heading over to the rodeo on a holiday like most of the other families in Cameron. Almost.
But Grady's rigid face and the stiff way he held himself as they got closer to the fairgrounds reminded her that they were no family. And as she caught the curious glances of her friends and neighbors from town, and the knowing smiles some of them flashed her as she walked with Grady, she began to wonder if her idea had been a horrible mistake.
Instead of being a pleasant day together, giving Grady a chance to get to know his daughter, was this outing to the rodeo going to be nothing more than a cause of pain for Grady and a source of gossip for Cameron?
* * *
Chapter 11
«^»
The scent of the rodeo wrapped itself around Grady's heart as they got closer and closer to the fairgrounds. The nervous excitement of the competitors, and the snorting, ground-pawing anticipation of the animals swirled around him like a living thing. He hadn't been near a rodeo since he'd gotten hurt five years ago, but that didn't stop him from reacting. His pulse tripped and sped up, and his fingers itched to curl around a rope.
"We're almost there!"
The child walking between him and Becca interrupted his thoughts as she skipped once and looked up at her mother. "Are we going to be on time? We're not going to miss anything, are we?"
Becca shot him an apologetic look, then said, "We're not going to miss a thing, honey. The rodeo events don't start for a while yet."
God, why had he agreed to this? He didn't want to be anywhere near a rodeo. And he especially didn't want to be near one with Becca. She knew him too well, was able to read him too easily. He had seen sympathy in her eyes back at her house, and rather than making him angry, as almost everyone else's sympathy had done, it had touched him. He knew how she felt about the rodeo, how she'd hated it and blamed it for separating them. And yet she was sorry he had lost that part of his life.
He didn't want to let that thought linger in his mind. He was angry at her for what she'd done, he reminded himself, and he didn't want to relinquish that anger. He was deathly afraid of what he would find had taken its place.
He looked down at Cassie, dressed in blue shorts and a red shirt. "What do you want to do today?" he asked her.
"I want to see everything in the rodeo," she answered promptly, and Grady kicked himself for asking. But he couldn't very well take the words back now.
"Have you ever seen a rodeo before?"
"We went last
year and the year before, but we didn't see the rodeo. Mom let me go on the rides," she explained, her voice full of awe at the unexpected pleasure.
Grady glanced at Becca, who met his gaze and lifted her chin. "I gave her a choice," she said.
"And what child could pass up carnival rides?" he said in a mocking voice. Clearly she hadn't wanted to take Cassie to the rodeo, and had bribed her with the rides.
Becca didn't look away from him. "I had no idea who would be in the rodeo," she said softly. "It wasn't a chance I was willing to take."
He tried to summon his anger again, but one look at her face stopped it cold. Almost unwillingly he imagined what it would have been like for her if he'd been in the rodeo, seeing him appear in front of her with his child sitting next to her. Grudgingly he admitted to himself that she had a good reason for avoiding the rodeo.
Turning to Cassie, trying to escape from the moment of understanding, he said, "Do you want to go on the rides again this year?"
She shook her head and sent her braids flying around her face. "This year I want to see the rodeo. And my mom said we can stay for all of it. Right, Mom?"
"We can stay as long as you like." Becca glanced over at him. "But Mr. Farrell might have to leave early. He has a ranch to take care of."
Her words reached inside him, igniting a small flame that warmed him. Becca knew he would have a hard time at the rodeo, and she was telling him she understood. "Those cows will have to manage on their own today," he said lightly. "I'm staying at the rodeo until the last fireworks are finished."
"Can we stay for the fireworks, too, Mommy? Can we?"
"We'll see," Becca answered.
Before Cassie could press her mother for an answer, they'd reached the ring set up for the rodeo. Several riders circled the arena, and Cassie ran over to watch.
"I'll understand if you can't stay," Becca said in a low voice as they followed Cassie more slowly.
He looked at her for a moment, then let his gaze wander over the rodeo arena. It was all excruciatingly, achingly familiar, from the worn bleachers set up on one side of the ring to the chutes lined up on the other side. "Would you?" he asked, unable to hide the pain in his voice.
"I've lost things in my life, too."
He didn't want to think about the grief beneath her words. "Name one."
"I lost you, Grady."
At that he turned to face her. "That was your choice, Becca."
"I didn't say it wasn't my fault. I accept the responsibility for what I did. That doesn't mean it didn't hurt."
He was saved from a reply by Cassie. "What are they doing now, Mr. Farrell?"
He glanced at the riders circling the ring. "They're just warming up their horses. Those are some of the barrel racers and some of the calf ropers. They want to keep their horses loose and ready to work."
By the time he turned back to Becca, she'd had a chance to gather her composure. Now she smiled at Cassie and reached out her hand. "C'mon, Cass, let's get some cotton candy, then we can find our seats before the rodeo begins."
As the child walked toward a vendor with her mother, Grady trailed behind them, trying to push Becca's words out of his mind. He didn't want to think about Becca, missing him, alone and afraid, pregnant He wouldn't let his mind linger on that picture. He wanted to focus on right now, on how she'd kept the truth from him for so long.
But as he watched her bend over her daughter, her blond hair blending with Cassie's dark braids, he was afraid that his anger was draining away. All it left behind was a terrible emptiness, as if there were nothing but a black void where his heart used to be.
* * *
An hour later they were settled in the bleachers, Cassie's sticky, cotton-candy-covered fingers holding tightly to a program. She leaned forward between him and her mother, staring intently at the barrels that were being placed in the ring.
"What are they doing now?"
Questions had tumbled out of her mouth, one after another, ever since they'd sat down. But instead of becoming irritated with the constant stream of questions, Grady enjoyed watching her eyes shine, seeing her bounce up and down in her seat. Cassie was loving the rodeo; there was no doubt about that. His daughter, he thought, remembering his own first rodeo. There was something very satisfying about sharing this with her.
"What are they doing, Mr. Farrell?" she asked again, a hint of impatience in her voice.
He tore his gaze away from her face and focused on the ring in front of him. "They're getting ready for the barrel racers. They'll all come in and parade around the ring, then they'll take turns racing their horses around the barrels. The one who gets the fastest time is the winner."
"Is it dangerous?"
He smiled as he looked down at her. Cassie's eyes were riveted on the spectacle in front of her. "Not like bull riding and bronc riding. But a barrel racer has to train herself and her horse very hard, and it's more difficult than it looks. Sometimes they fall off, or bump into a barrel. Then they can get hurt."
Cassie continued to stare at the racers, until she pointed to a woman on a huge black horse. "I bet she's going to win."
Becca leaned forward. "Why do you say that, honey?"
"She looks like she's trying very hard."
"She's not even racing yet."
"I still think she's going to win," Cassie replied stubbornly.
Grady felt Becca glance over at him. He was staring at the intense woman on the black horse. "I think you're right, Cass," he said slowly. Turning to meet Becca's eyes, he asked, "Do you know that woman?"
Becca nodded. "That's Shea McAllister. She's the sheriff's sister. Shea runs their ranch. You haven't met her yet because the ranch is on the other side of town from yours." She looked over at the woman, now on the other side of the ring. "I don't think Shea ever does anything at less than full speed. Or less than complete intensity. I would certainly never bet against her. But as far as I know, Cassie's never met her."
Grady's gaze lingered on the child sitting next to him. "Why do you think she's trying very hard, Cassie?"
Cassie's eyes never left the woman on the black horse. "She's the only one who isn't goofing around."
Cassie was right. While the other riders talked to each other and fiddled with their reins, the woman on the black horse vibrated with intensity. And she had the look of a fierce competitor.
Grady looked down at the child sitting next to him, and his heart fluttered once in his chest. "Cassie, I have a feeling that in a few years, you're going to look just like that woman when you're riding a horse. And I bet if you're in a race, you'll win it, too."
Cassie looked up at him, her face glowing. "Really?" she whispered.
"Really. When can you come out to the ranch for your next riding lesson?"
"Whenever my mom says I can."
Grady looked over at Becca, and surprised a look of profound sadness in her eyes. "Becca?" he asked.
He watched her force her lips into a stiff smile. "We'll talk later," she said. Motioning to the ring, she added, "The barrel racing is going to start."
"Cassie, would you like to go down a few rows to the rail, so you can get a better look?" he asked.
Cassie nodded and jumped up, but before she ran down the steps she turned to her mother. "Is that okay, Mom?"
"Just stay in front of me so I can see you," Becca said. When Cassie had settled herself at the railing, he asked Becca, "Did you change your mind about the riding lessons?"
"Of course not. Why would you think so?"
"You didn't look too happy when we were talking about that barrel racer."
She looked away for a moment, then sat up straight and looked at him. "I can introduce you to Shea later, if you'd like."
"Why would I want to be introduced to her?" he asked, confused.
Becca didn't blink. "Because she's the kind of woman you'd get along with. She's very much like you."
Insight struck Grady like a flash of lightning. "You're jealous!" he exclaimed, joy leapi
ng inside him before he could stop it.
"A person can't be jealous when there's nothing she's protecting," she snapped back at him. "I know I've destroyed any chances we might have had. And you seemed interested in Shea."
"I wasn't saying I wanted a relationship with the woman. I was interested in her only because of what Cassie said. If Shea McAllister is as much like me as you're saying, we'd probably kill each other within days of getting involved." He sat back and watched her face turn red, enjoying the rare moment. Since he'd been in Cameron, he'd rarely seen Becca lose her composure. Except for the times she'd been in his arms.
The taste of her mouth and the feel of her hands swept over him, taunting him, reminding him that he'd been completely unsuccessful at forgetting about Becca. No matter how hard he'd tried, this past week he hadn't been able to convince his body that he hated her.
"I'm sorry if I misunderstood," Becca muttered, then turned away to watch the first barrel racer.
He leaned over. "I had no idea you cared so much," he whispered, and watched as hot color flooded up over her chest and onto her neck. "I'm glad you wore that dress," he added. "I had forgotten how you blush all over."
"Stop it," she whispered. "What if Cassie heard you?"
"What would be wrong with that? Haven't you gone out on dates before?"
She didn't answer, and her rigid back and refusal to look at him were his answer. "My God, Becca, are you saying you've never dated?"
"I'm not saying anything."
"But you haven't, have you?"
Finally she turned to him. "While I was in school, I was too exhausted by my class work, my job and taking care of Cassie to even think about dating. And once I was out of school, I was working too hard to pay all my debts and then buy into the practice to have time to date. Don't make this into something significant, Grady. You have no idea what my life's been like."
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