by Marin Thomas
The handful of fans sitting in the stands hooted and hollered. A group of young girls held up posters with the names of local junior cowboys and big pink hearts painted on them.
“Didn’t Ricky decide to ride in the bronc competition today?” Beth asked as she and Mack watched their son put on his Kevlar vest and riding glove—next to a chute with a bull inside. Surrounded by Cash males and former lady-bull-rider Shannon, Beth only caught glimpses of her son’s head in the crowd. She hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep last night, fretting about today and hoping nothing would go wrong with Ricky’s ride. It didn’t matter if he won or lost today—she just wanted him to stay safe.
“Hoss has been sharing stories about his bull-riding days with Ricky,” Mack said. “And remember the sleepover he had at Ryan’s house a while back?” Beth nodded. “Will took the boys out to the Triple D, and Shannon let them get on the bucking machine. Ryan didn’t care for it, but Ricky got hooked so Shannon gave him a few lessons.”
“And Ricky decided he liked bulls better than broncs.”
“Looks that way.” Mack pulled Beth close, and she soaked in his comfort. “Don’t worry, mama bear, your cub will be fine.”
She’d have to trust Mack on this one. She knew next to nothing about rodeo or motherhood, and she was learning along the way. As she took in the action, an ache that had become all too common lately spread through her body—a happy ache and one she prayed would never go away. So far, motherhood had been a fascinating, joyous experience, and each morning she woke wondering what the day had in store for her and her new family. She and Mack, with Ricky and Katy, had settled into a routine as a family, and a stranger would be hard-pressed to guess that the four of them had only just met a few months ago.
“Mom!”
Beth’s gaze flew to her son sitting on the junior-sized bull in the chute. Ricky had begun calling her mom a few weeks ago and when he used the moniker, her heart swelled with love. Katy had called her mom before the adoption papers had been signed, but Ricky hadn’t given his trust as easily. He still used Mack’s first name, but Beth was certain that eventually he’d learn, as she had, that Mack was true blue.
“Smile, Mom.” Ricky grinned. “It’s gonna be okay.”
She gave him a thumbs-up. She was learning that worry was a big part of motherhood—she just hadn’t expected it to consume her daily routine.
“You sure you don’t want to watch in the stands with Katy and your parents?” Mack asked.
“I’m staying.” She wanted to show Ricky that she supported him, but mostly she needed to remain close by so that if anything happened... “Katy will be fine. She’s helping Dixie entertain Nate.” Beth glanced toward the seating section where the Cash wives sat with their babies and her parents right next to them.
The Cash family had opened their hearts to her, Ricky and Katy, and Beth felt truly blessed that her children would grow up surrounded by a large family and lots of love. And Beth had yet to figure out how Mack had won over her father, who now bragged to his golf buddies about his famous rock-star-cowboy son-in-law. As for her mother—she broke down in tears when Beth told her she and Mack were adopting two children. Beth hadn’t realized how her inability to have children had weighed heavily on her mother’s heart all these years. Now her mother was embracing her role as a grandparent and had insisted on purchasing Katy’s new eyeglasses—a designer pair no less—and a new wardrobe for the little girl. Beth’s father had given Ricky a beginner’s set of golf clubs, but she wasn’t sure the clubs would be used...for a few years, anyway.
“Let’s move closer so we have a better view.” Mack grasped Beth’s hand and they approached the chute. “Ricky, listen to Shannon,” Mack said. “She’s the best bull rider in the family.”
“I know. Aunt Shannon told me what to do.”
Not a day went by that Mack didn’t surprise Beth. His respect for his sister-in-law’s talent in a male-dominated sport convinced her that they were going to raise a young man who respected women and a daughter who wouldn’t be afraid to chase her dreams despite her physical limitations.
“You can do it, dude.” Ryan gave his cousin a fist pump.
“Go get ’em, Ricky!” Beth shouted, squeezing Mack’s hand.
“Up first today is Ricky Cash, a fifteen-year-old buckaroo from Yuma, Arizona.”
The sparse crowd gathered inside the arena applauded.
“This is Ricky’s first time competing. Let’s see how this young man does on Thunder Mountain, a junior bull from the famed Valley Springs Ranch in Silver City, New Mexico.”
Before Beth was prepared, the chute opened and the bull sprang forward. She held her breath—watching Ricky’s torso jerk as the bull’s bucking flung him every which way. Resisting the urge to close her eyes, she recited a litany of prayers in her head. She’d made a promise to herself when she became Ricky and Katy’s mother that she would embrace every aspect of motherhood—the good, the bad and the scary.
The bull spun, and Ricky slid sideways on the animal’s back, but he managed to regain his balance and straighten up right before the bull executed another high buck just as the buzzer sounded. Beth clutched Mack’s arm, praying for a safe dismount. Ricky launched himself off the bull and dove for the ground, hitting the dirt hard. He rolled away from the bull’s hind legs and scrambled to his feet as the rodeo helpers moved in and guided the bull out of the arena.
Now that the danger was over, Beth’s heartbeat returned to normal—for all of five seconds. Was it the arena lighting or did Ricky’s face look pale? He walked over to the cowboy hat Beth’s father had purchased for his fifteenth birthday and picked it up slowly. Something was wrong. Beth made a move to meet Ricky when he stepped into the cowboy ready area but Mack held her arm. “Give him a minute to bask in the glory.”
“Dude, you were awesome!” Ryan playfully punched Ricky in the shoulder, and Beth caught his wince. She suspected her son was a little bruised and sore from the ride and dismount.
After a few more congratulations, Beth decided she’d waited long enough and pushed through the group. “Honey, you were amazing.” Beth had begun calling the kids honey right after they moved into the new townhouse in Yuma in March. When she offered him a hug, he whispered in her ear.
“Mom, I think I broke my wrist.”
She sucked in a quiet breath.
“Don’t say anything,” he said. “Aunt Shannon will feel bad and I don’t want Mack to be disappointed if I can’t ride in the finals.”
“Your father won’t be disappointed, Ricky.” Tamping down the panic building inside her she said, “Let’s go to the first-aid station and have them take a look at your wrist.” She waved to Mack. “We’ll be right back.”
“I think I broke it on the dismount,” Ricky said. “I felt a sharp pain go up my arm, and then when I tried to move my wrist it really hurt.”
“Is your wrist the only thing that hurts?”
He grinned. “Heck, no. I ache all over.”
“Honey, are you sure you—”
“Mom, I know what you’re going to say. I know I don’t have to rodeo just because Mack and my uncles rodeo.”
“Don’t forget your Aunt Shannon.”
“And my aunt. But this is the first time I’ve been given a chance to test myself and see what I can do. I don’t know if I’ll ever be as good at rodeo as the rest of the family but I want to try.”
“Even if it means a few more broken bones?” she asked.
“I can handle broken bones.” He stopped walking and faced Beth. “I want to make it hard for people to guess that I’m not your real son.”
“But you are my real son, Ricky.”
“You know what I mean. I want people to think I’ve always been a Cash.”
Beth’s heart ached for him and the years he’d lived in foster care and group h
omes, always wondering where he belonged. “I’ll support you if you make me a promise.”
“What kind of promise?”
“That you believe no matter what you do with your life—no matter what direction your interests lead you—that you’ll be true to yourself and know that your happiness is all I and your father want for you.”
“That’s a promise I can make, Mom.”
“I’m going to hold you to it, young man.”
When they arrived at the first-aid station, the paramedic took all of fifteen seconds to examine Ricky’s wrist before giving his diagnosis—broken. He advised Beth to take Ricky to an orthopedic doctor and get the bone X-rayed, then he wrapped Ricky’s wrist in an elastic bandage and gave him an ice bag to help with the swelling.
“Are you mad?” Ricky asked as they walked to the stands.
“I’m not mad, honey, just worried. I hate to see you in pain.”
Ricky stopped walking. “You’re not gonna make me quit rodeo, are you?”
“Of course not.” She smiled. “But you’re not going to expect me to stop worrying, are you?”
Ricky laid his uninjured arm across her shoulders. “I’m glad you worry about me.”
“Be careful what you wish for.”
“No one’s ever cared what’s happened to me before,” he said.
“Now you have a huge family that cares.” They arrived at their seating section. When Mack looked their way and spotted the ice bag on Ricky’s arm he rushed over, the rest of the family following.
“How bad is it?” Mack asked Ricky.
“Mom, you tell him.”
“The paramedic thinks he broke his wrist. We’ll have to see a doctor to have it X-rayed.”
Ricky was ushered to his seat. Katy, sporting her new eyeglasses, offered to hold the ice bag in place, and Mack’s brothers began sharing stories about all their rodeo injuries.
Beth’s eyes burned as she took in the scene.
“Kids break bones.” Mack hugged her. “It’s nothing to cry over.”
“That’s not why I’m crying.” She gazed into Mack’s sexy brown eyes. “I’m crying because I almost walked away from this.” She swept her arm in front of her. “You, your family, Ricky and Katy. The chance to be a mother.”
“I wouldn’t have let you.” Mack kissed the top of her head. “No way was I going to ride herd over Ricky and Katy on my own.”
Mack was just saying that. Without a doubt he would have raised the kids as a single father and done a fantastic job. Beth was humbled and blessed that he’d chosen her to help him. “I love you, Mack.”
“I know, darlin’.”
She pinched his side.
“Hey, what’s that for?”
“Thank you for showing me that ‘Love Don’t Hurt Every Time.’”
“Quoting Haggard songs, are you?” He lowered his head, and right before his mouth touched hers he whispered, ‘“There Won’t Be Another Now.”’
* * * * *
Porter is the last Cash brother left single!
Be sure to look for the final book in Marin Thomas’s CASH BROTHERS miniseries in early 2015!
Keep reading for an excerpt from THE TEXAN’S LITTLE SECRET by Barbara White Daille
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Chapter One
It didn’t take Carly Baron long to figure out coming home to the Roughneck just might have been the worst decision she had ever made.
Every minute she stayed on the ranch, every second spent in her family’s farm store, every moment anywhere near her dad pushed her closer to a confrontation with his ranch manager, the one man she never wanted to see again.
At the worktable in the back room of the Peach Pit, her thoughts shifted from the images she’d rather forget to the cartons she was filling with jars of preserves. She’d spent days out here at the store helping with new orders and most of this afternoon lending a hand to package them up. Finished with the final carton, she slapped the top of the box. “That ought to get these to their destination in good shape.”
“I can’t believe we’re finally done,” her older sister Savannah said. “I owe you, Carly. I’ve been so wrapped up in day-to-day business lately, I let the plans for expansion slide. That was a brilliant idea of yours for the targeted ad. This was my biggest order yet.”
“No big deal.” Carly shrugged. “Marketing 101. I need to get some use out of my degree. Selling Western wear wasn’t exactly part of my five-year plan when I got out of college. And I’m glad you stuck to your guns about the store.” The Peach Pit offered fresh produce and baked goods made from peaches and pecans grown on their farm, part of the Baron family’s ranch.
Turning the small roadside stand into a full-fledged store had been Savannah’s idea, one she had managed to implement and keep going despite resistance from their dad. Brock Baron never liked the thought of sinking capital into any endeavor he didn’t control himself. His focus was—and always would be—on their North Texas ranch and on Baron Energies, the oil company he ran from the executive offices in a downtown Dallas high-rise.
“Daddy’s got to see that this farm store’s a little gold mine,” she assured Savannah.
“Well, it’s nowhere near there, yet. But it has the potential. Thanks to the ads, we’ve now got almost more orders than we can handle.”
Carly put the tape dispenser back into its spot on the shelf and rested her hips against the worktable. “Speaking of orders, it’s probably time for me to head back to the house to get mine.”
Savannah shook her head. “And I’m sure Dad will have an entire list. You know we were all thrilled to have you come to visit a couple of months ago when Lizzie was in the hospital. But I’ll confess we were overjoyed when you decided to come back again to stay for a while.”
“I’ll bet.” Unwilling to think about her reasons for not returning to the ranch, Carly focused on what had finally brought her home—she was here to play nursemaid.
Seventy years old and as bullheaded as ever, Brock Baron also couldn’t accept that the time had come for him to give up rodeoing and just let his kids continue to carry on the family tradition. His last seniors’ event had left him with a broken leg and more aches and pains than he would ever admit to. Now, his enforced inaction was giving everyone else major headaches. “He was driving y’all nuts from the beginning, I’m sure.”
“Oh, that’s an understatement. Lucky for us, you’ve always been able to stand up to him.”
“Another understatement.” She’d be the first to acknowledge she had more than a little of their dad’s hardheadedness in her.
They both laughed.
“Really, though,” Savannah said. “How are you holding up?”
“Just fine. But I have to say, now that Daddy’s reached the point he can get around by himself in that wheelchair, it’s nerve-racking. I can never tell where and when he’ll turn up in the house.”
“Trust me, I know. It’s only the fact he can’t travel too far with it that’s keeping me safe here at the store.”
They smiled at each other.
Carly pushed away from the workbench, and Savannah reached out
, surprising her with a hug. Her next-to-oldest sister had always been the quietest of the three girls in the Baron family.
“As much as I appreciate all your help this week,” Savannah said, “I’m even happier just to have your company.”
“Same here.” To her surprise, she meant it. With a family of six kids, four of Brock’s own and two stepsons, she had grown up lost in the middle of the crowd. Somehow, she had felt cut off from her sisters long before she’d left the Roughneck for college. With another young stepson of Brock’s added to the mix shortly after that, the situation hadn’t improved at all.
She still sometimes felt lost around the family but, on her past few visits, she had enjoyed spending more time with Savannah. “It’s my pleasure to help you out here.” She shook her head and laughed. “I need to do some manual labor. Sitting around the house is turning me soft. I can feel myself losing muscle tone.”
“You’re entitled to time off from babysitting Dad, you know. Don’t you have any events coming up?”
Carly shook her head. “Not right away.” They both barrel raced, though her sister made it out on the circuit less frequently than she did. “And I’m thinking of taking a break from racing, anyhow.” Lately, it had become harder and harder for her to ramp up the enthusiasm for rodeo.
Or for anything else.
She forced a grin. “But enough about me. I imagine you’re getting soft yourself. Although, maybe not.” Tilting her head, she looked Savannah up and down. “After all, you’re a newlywed. You ought to be getting plenty of another type of exercise to keep you in shape.”
“Carly!” Savannah’s cheeks flushed, but her eyes sparkled.
“Hey, don’t play innocent with me. You know my so-called crazy advice helped you get what you wanted.”
Otherwise known as a brand-new husband.
Savannah and their older sister, Lizzie, had both found their true loves recently. Carly swallowed a sigh. A forever relationship wasn’t in the cards for her. Not now, maybe not ever, and she’d just have to live with that. Still, she wished her sisters—wished the four of them, counting their new significant others—all the best in the world.