More Than a Cowboy (Reckless, Arizona)

by Cathy McDavid

  Liberty glanced at the timer and sucked in a sharp breath. “Come on,” she urged in a low voice. “You can do it.”

  Cranking his arms counterclockwise, Deacon attempted to drop the steer to the ground. It resisted, equally determined to break free. Deacon didn’t give up. Another powerful thrust, and the steer’s knees buckled. The next instant, it lay on the ground, and Liberty stopped the timer.

  “You did it!” She gave a loud whoop and jumped down from the fence, so excited she almost forgot to check the time. She did then and stared for several seconds at the numbers.

  Deacon climbed to his feet and retrieved his hat. Still out of breath, he stood bent at the waist, his hands braced on his thighs.

  “Good run, cowboy,” Kenny said, trotting back to Deacon and leading Huck behind him.

  Timing aside, it had been a good run. Liberty was pleased for Deacon and proud of him. His technique might be a little rusty, but he hadn’t lost it.

  Grunting with indignation, the steer hoisted himself upright and loped off, glad to be done with the whole distasteful affair. Kenny went after him, leaving Huck behind. The gelding gave a lusty snort of satisfaction, then stood quietly.

  Liberty ran to meet up with Deacon, her speed impeded by the soft dirt. She reached him just as he straightened to his full, impressive height. Bulldogging was considered a big man’s event because of the strength it required, and Deacon fit the bill perfectly.

  Without thinking, she threw herself at him. “You did it!”

  He caught her as they collided, his grip strong and possessive. “Yeah?”

  “See.” She showed him the timer. “Eight-point-seven seconds.”

  “Not great.”

  “Not bad, either, for a guy who hasn’t bulldogged in a while.”

  “I’ll get better.” He pulled her closer until scant inches separated them.

  Liberty’s heart cartwheeled. This was nice. More than nice, it was...sweet heaven! Her insides melted as his brown eyes bored into hers.

  “Does that mean you’re getting back into rodeoing?” she asked, unable to look away.

  “It means I’m going to give practicing with the guys a try. See how it goes. I still like team penning.” The pressure of his hands increased. “With you.”

  Mild warning bells went off in Liberty’s head. Really? Now? She sighed. This probably wasn’t a good idea. Not under the circumstances. She should extract herself from his embrace or at least say something.

  She didn’t utter a word. Not about their proximity or the sizzling tension it generated.

  “You were amazing tonight. And your technique is good.”

  “My technique, maybe, but I’m a little out of shape.” He rolled his right shoulder, wincing as he did. “I might have pulled a muscle.”

  “Ice it when you get home.”

  His gaze, already dark to begin with, smoldered. “I could try some stretching exercises.”

  “Stretching exercises?”

  “Like this.”

  He wrapped his not-so-afflicted-after-all arm around her waist and hauled her solidly against him. A tingle of awareness spread slowly through her.

  They had never stood so close. She had only to lift her mouth to his and magic would surely happen. His palm pressed into the small of her back, and because it felt natural to do so, Liberty slid her one free hand up to his shoulder.

  Too bad she was still holding the pesky electronic timer. If not, she could use both hands. She considered dropping it, but that would probably be too obvious. Or would it? Her grip loosened.

  “You don’t have to help me clear my name if you don’t want,” he said.

  Had she misread his signals? Did he not want to kiss her?

  “A bet’s a bet,” she answered a little dejectedly.

  “And I’ll help you, too. With Mercer and your mother.”

  “Seriously?” That cheered her.

  “It’s my job to make my client happy if I can, and reconciling with your mom will make Mercer happy.”

  “Thank you, thank you!” Without thinking, she laid her cheek on his chest and hugged him hard. With only one arm. She was still holding the stupid timer.

  It was wonderful. Deacon, all rock-hard muscles and impressive height, made her feel soft and small and utterly feminine. He hugged her back, too, pressing his lips to the top of her head.

  Friendly, chaste and as far as things should probably go. Liberty didn’t know much about attorney ethics. Kissing her surely violated one or two of them even if she had thrown herself at him.

  What if someone saw them? Kenny hadn’t gone home yet. She should stop this now. For Deacon’s sake. But when she tried to pull away, he held her fast.

  “Not yet,” he said, and dipped his head.

  Liberty promptly dropped the timer. It fell with a muffled thud onto the dirt at her feet.

  The kiss was everything she’d dreamed of these past two months, and her imagination had run pretty wild. His lips moved tenderly and expertly over hers with just the right amount of pressure to weaken her knees. Even as he encouraged her lips to part, she was already surrendering, willing him to take what she gave with tiny, needy sounds.

  He must know what he was doing. She couldn’t be this susceptible to a mere kiss. This affected. This aroused. With each passing second, Deacon grew bolder. She did, too, and he liked it, if she correctly interpreted his body’s response.

  Which was why his sudden ending of the kiss and setting her aside surprised her. Just when things were getting good, too.

  “I may have overstepped my boundaries,” he apologized in a voice as unsteady as Liberty’s legs felt.

  “Obviously, I didn’t mind.”

  He retrieved the electronic timer from where she’d dropped it and placed it in her hand. “We shouldn’t let this happen again.”

  “I’m hoping you’ll reconsider.”

  “Liberty.”

  “Okay, okay.” She didn’t want him to ruin the moment. It was, however, too late. “You don’t have to explain. Things are complicated. You’re Mercer’s attorney.”

  “Yeah.” He sounded disappointed.

  Well, so was she. “But it won’t always be that way. And when it isn’t...” She smiled hopefully. “We can always try this again.”

  He brushed her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “There isn’t anything I want more.”

  A thrill wound through her. She wasn’t alone in her feelings. “I’ll be waiting.”

  “No promises when that might be.”

  “I won’t compromise your relationship with Mercer.”

  “I think it’s me who’s compromising you.”

  If only.

  Deacon walked over to where Huck stood patiently gnawing on his bit and grabbed the reins. “If you wait until I’ve put him up, I’ll drop you off at the house.”

  “That might not be such a good idea.” Alone in the cab of his truck, they’d no doubt engage in a repeat of the past few minutes.

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  At the arena gate, she hesitated at the post and flipped three switches, turning off the floodlights. “See you tomorrow, Deacon.”

  “Night, Liberty.” He tugged on the brim of his cowboy hat before striding purposefully toward the barn, Huck following.

  She’d keep her word, she thought as she headed to the house. She wouldn’t cross any lines or make trouble for him with Mercer.

  It would be difficult, though. Not that Liberty had been kissed by that many guys, but Deacon was by far the best. Working with him on the arena operations and team penning would be a challenge.

  She couldn’t wait.

  Chapter Seven

  Deacon checked off another name on his list as he hung up the phone. Today al
one, he’d attempted to reach seven former Easy Money employees. Three of the numbers had resulted in dead ends. The four individuals he’d managed to connect with weren’t much help. They were glad to hear from him, pleased—and surprised—to learn he was an attorney, but had nothing of value to contribute regarding the day of Ernie’s accident.

  They’d seen nothing, heard nothing, and even if they had, they weren’t saying. Just like the three wise monkeys.

  Deacon had come to the conclusion it was time to take the bull by the horns, no pun intended. Walter wasn’t the only person still around who’d been at the arena the day of the accident. Sunny had been there, too.

  Placing a quick call, he asked if she was available to meet with him. During the conversation, he casually confirmed Liberty’s whereabouts. She was with a student’s family, looking at a horse for possible purchase. Much as he wanted to see Liberty, it was better he didn’t today. Not until he’d spoken with her mother.

  He and Liberty had been doing their level best these past three days to maintain a strictly professional relationship. The kiss they’d shared, incredible as it had been, was a mistake they couldn’t repeat. Not while he represented Mercer.

  Thoughts rolled around inside Deacon’s head as he drove from his office to the Easy Money. He was close to finalizing the partnership agreement and had only a few years’ worth of financial reports left to review. They were also waiting on the real estate appraisal, the title search and most recent property tax assessment.

  In the meantime, a routine was slowly developing among the Becketts. Though they didn’t always agree, Sunny and Mercer worked well together and had two more bucking contracts to show for their efforts. Liberty and Mercer, too, were amicable. On the surface anyway. Deacon suspected that for the sake of her family she’d set aside her hurt and frustration at being lied to.

  Cassidy bristled whenever she was near Mercer. She had, however, grudgingly allowed her son and Mercer to spend supervised time together—an arrangement that pleased Mercer enormously. He’d taken quite a shine to his young grandson. Benjamin also liked his newfound grandparent. Mercer was the first person he sought out when his mother brought him to the arena.

  The front office was empty when Deacon entered. He didn’t think much of it. Tatum’s hours varied, depending on the needs of her three children. Sunny was good to her office manager. She’d been good to Deacon once, too.

  “Hello,” he called out, and started for Sunny’s office.

  “In here.”

  He was surprised, and not surprised, to find Cassidy seated in the visitor chair. Bringing reinforcements was typical for the Beckett women.

  “How are you doing today?” He purposefully kept his voice neutral so as not to put her on the alert.

  “Fine.” She rubbed her forehead. “The air-conditioning up and died last night. We’re waiting on the repairman. I might have to duck out if he calls.”

  “I won’t take long.”

  Sunny wasn’t making excuses. Both she and her daughter looked tired and sported dark circles beneath their eyes. No air-conditioning in the heat of summer could ruin a person’s sleep.

  “The title company emailed me a preliminary copy of the title report this morning.” She lifted a slim stack of papers from her desk.

  Deacon leaned against the same file cabinet he had before. He supposed he could follow Mercer’s initiative and fetch a chair from the outer office. For reasons hard to explain, he didn’t.

  “This isn’t about the partnership agreement.”

  “No?” Sunny leaned forward.

  “Then why are you here?” Cassidy asked.

  “I want to discuss the accident.” Though he probably didn’t need to clarify, he did anyway. “When Ernie Tuckerman was gored.”

  Sunny spoke slowly and thoughtfully. “Your involvement in that accident has no effect on my opinion of you as an attorney. I’m sure you’re a good one.”

  “I know I’m a good one. And I wasn’t involved in the accident, other than being here when it happened and taking the blame.”

  “Why does it matter now? No one cares or even remembers.”

  “It matters to me, and people do remember.” If they didn’t, he’d have more clients on his roster.

  “For the record,” Sunny said, “I didn’t believe you were responsible.”

  “Then why let me take the fall?” Anger rose inside him, potent as the day of the accident when Sunny came to him and intimated it was his fault.

  “Not intentionally responsible.”

  “Your job was to take care of the bulls,” Cassidy interjected. “And you were the last one seen at the pens before they escaped.”

  He went over to the rack on the wall where the keys hung and flicked the nearest one. “The office door is left open during business hours. Anyone could have taken the key to the pen.”

  “That’s true,” Sunny concurred. “But who would do that and why unlock the gates? It makes no sense.”

  “Right. More likely a stupid, foolish kid was forgetful.”

  “I never thought you were stupid, Deacon.”

  “You looked no further. Ernie accused me, and that was all it took.”

  “He wasn’t the only one.”

  Deacon remembered the taunts and the shame they accusations had caused. “Really? Did people really blame me or just go along with the general consensus?”

  Sunny’s demeanor cooled. “The insurance investigator determined the incident to be an accident. You weren’t cited in any of the reports.”

  “I expected more from you, Sunny. Hoped for more.” There, in a nutshell, was what haunted Deacon, now and for these past eleven years. “You were kinder to me than my own mother. I thought, of all people, you would stand behind me.”

  Her resolve visibly wavered. “I was under a lot of pressure, which, I realize, is no excuse.”

  “You fired me.”

  “Something I regret.”

  “Easy to say that now.”

  “I had to protect the arena. My reputation. My family. After you left—”

  “I ran away. There was no reason to stay.”

  “It made you look guilty,” Cassidy said, her tone less forceful than earlier.

  “Very convenient for you.” Deacon addressed his words to Sunny.

  “You’re right,” she admitted. “I could have handled the situation differently. Better.”

  That was an understatement. “How do you look yourself in the mirror each morning? All the lies you’ve told to Liberty and Mercer, all the situations you didn’t handle well. Are you okay with that?”

  Deacon’s intentions hadn’t been to confront Sunny, only to find answers. But her easy dismissal of her past wrongs annoyed him.

  Cassidy jumped to her feet. “You have no right to talk to my mother like that.”

  Sunny also stood. Very straight. “He does. I’ve made my share of mistakes. All I can do at this point is apologize.”

  “You should know I’m doing my own investigation.”

  “How can I help?” Her offer appeared genuine.

  After a moment of indecision, Deacon accepted it and found his anger abating. “Answer my questions. You can also spread the word. Tell people you don’t think I left the gates open. See if that sparks any interesting responses.”

  “Are you sure? You may not like what you find out.”

  “If the accident was my fault, if I inadvertently did something I don’t remember, I need to know.” He pushed off the file cabinet. “Now, if you’ll excuse me...”

  With that, he left. The walls were closing in on him, making it difficult to breathe.

  He should go home, he thought, stopping at the bottom of the porch steps. The small Santa Fe–style house he’d purchased a mile from town was his prid
e and joy. Except Deacon craved wide-open space and a way to blow off some steam.

  In the arena, participants were starting to gather for the evening’s team penning competition. He’d been too busy to enjoy his favorite pastime since Mercer retained him. Tonight, for a change, he was free. His mind was further made up when he spotted Liberty leading her saddled mare from the barn. She must have returned while he was in the office with her mother.

  Striding toward her, he met her in the middle of the open area.

  “Hey.” Her smile was warm and welcoming.

  Letting his gaze travel to the arena and back to her, he asked, “Looking for a partner?”

  * * *

  LIBERTY SAT ASTRIDE her horse, waiting for their turn. Three teams were ahead of hers and Deacon’s, but with only sixty seconds on the clock to separate three calves from a herd of thirty and drive them to the pen at the other side of the arena, team penning was a fast sport. They wouldn’t have long to wait.

  Ricky Lopez had joined her and Deacon. Ricky was an old acquaintance of her mother and Mercer’s and had lived in Reckless his entire life. He was also the person whose stories about her parents had finally prompted Liberty to contact Mercer.

  “Okay if I go first?” Deacon asked. He sat beside her on Confetti. Another good choice. The mare was further along in her training than his gelding and possessed a natural instinct for calves.

  “Sure. If Ricky doesn’t care.”

  The other man nodded. “I’ll take turnback.”

  There were different strategies in team penning. Sometimes, the three riders each assumed responsibility for one calf. Liberty, Deacon and Ricky had team penned together before and found a different strategy worked best for them. The first man or woman would return for the third calf, leaving the other riders in charge of the first two calves.

  Liberty didn’t mind that Deacon had asked to be first. Insisted, really. She’d sensed something amiss with him from the moment he’d asked to be her partner.

  Though curious, she’d refrained from inquiring. She had no right. They weren’t friends—friends didn’t kiss like they couldn’t get enough of each other—and they weren’t really business associates. Besides, this was neither the time nor the place. She and Deacon, not to mention Ricky, took their team penning seriously. If they intended to walk away in one of the money spots, they needed to concentrate. Also, study the herd.