In the two years Deacon worked at the arena, the use of electronic shocking devices had been strictly forbidden. Some cowboys and handlers believed that giving bulls a zap before releasing them from the chute made for a better ride. The Becketts didn’t subscribe to any practice remotely hinting of animal mistreatment.
“What did Sunny say when you told her?”
“Never brought it up,” Joe continued. “Seemed wrong, what with Ernie getting all busted up like he did and almost dying.”
Deacon pondered this development. As an attorney, he deemed the discovery of an electric shocker to be important and relevant. Sunny and the insurance investigator should have been told. Saying something now would make no difference. And there were those—Ernie, for one—who might say Deacon had used the shocker on the bull.
Deacon decided to file the information away for the time being.
“On the contrary,” he told Joe. “You’ve been a big help. And I’m looking forward to seeing you at the Helldorado Rodeo next week.”
“Wouldn’t miss it. I’m interested in checking out the operation now that Mercer’s back in charge.”
“I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”
“Him and Sunny sure did wonders with that place. Barely more than kids themselves when they bought it.” Regret tinged his voice. “For a hundred years, the Easy Money was the best rodeo arena in the state. Then it was sold and sold again. Mismanaged and misused until it was no more than a pile of timbers. Sunny and Mercer, those two had the touch. Turned the arena completely around in just a few years. While raising two youngsters of their own to boot. A real shame when his dad died. Heart attack out of the blue, they say. These things happen, but Mercer, he couldn’t deal with his grief and took to the bottle.”
“Yes, sir.” Deacon didn’t interrupt Joe’s recollections. He owed the livestock agent that much in exchange for the information he’d supplied about the electric shocker.
Joe Blackwood had been at the arena the day of the accident to inspect the bucking stock for his employer, a rodeo organization out of Tucson, and negotiate a new contract. A big fan of the sport himself, Joe had stuck around to watch the young cowboys practice their bull riding for the upcoming state finals. He’d been, and still was, familiar with anyone making a name for themselves.
He’d been watching Deacon and Ernie in particular, as two of the arena’s most promising competitors, and seen Ernie head over to the bull pen shortly after Deacon finished feeding and locked up. Unfortunately, he hadn’t noticed anyone tampering with the gate locks.
Deacon had been placing calls to Easy Money clients since getting his hands on the boxes of old customer contracts. Though he was having better results than with the former employees, he still didn’t have enough hard-core evidence to make a case. Either there was a conspiracy underfoot to protect someone—which Deacon highly doubted—or only two people had been at the bull pen that evening: Ernie and Deacon.
He had Liberty to thank for the files. They’d kept Deacon busy during his downtime, which was a good thing as his mind tended to wander lately, always in one direction.
Kissing her the first time could be chalked up to an impulsive mistake. The second time in her garage, there was no excuse. Deacon had allowed his desire for her to overrule his common sense and had been lucky Sunny hadn’t run straight to Mercer.
In fact, she and Cassidy had said nothing about the kiss. After a rather awkward moment, Liberty explained that they’d retrieved the boxes from the attic for Deacon and that was that. The three women went inside and Deacon left for his office.
He’d avoided the Easy Money as much as possible this past week, going only twice to exercise his horses at times when he knew the Becketts would be occupied. He and Liberty had talked by phone. She’d told him she hadn’t received any flack from her mother about the kiss. Cassidy had teased her in the way sisters do, but that was all. Deacon wasn’t sure what to think. Were Sunny and Cassidy in favor of his involvement with Liberty? He found that hard to believe, especially Sunny, considering how their last meeting had ended.
“Congratulations again on your new practice,” Joe said, returning Deacon to the present. “Who’da figured you for an attorney. No offense intended.”
“None taken, sir.” Deacon had received that same reaction so often in recent months that his skin had grown as thick as an elephant’s hide. “Talk to you again soon.”
Moments after he disconnected, Deacon’s part-time secretary Anna Maria poked her head into his office. She was young and inexperienced but made up for it with eagerness and dedication. Eventually, if all went well, he’d hire her on full-time. A legal assistant, too. That was, if Mercer didn’t get wind of Deacon’s ethics violation and make trouble for him.
Could he be more stupid? By kissing Liberty he’d not only put himself in a compromising position but her, as well.
“Mr. Beckett’s here to see you,” Anna Maria said, the hint of a Mexican accent giving her voice a pleasing lilt.
Deacon immediately rose, and his glance darted to the contract boxes on the floor beside his desk. “He’s not due for another twenty minutes.”
“I can tell him you’re busy and to come back later or wait.”
“It’s all right. Give me two minutes, then show him in.” Apparently Mercer was taking a page out of Deacon’s book.
“No problem,” she said, and disappeared.
Deacon used the time to store the contract boxes out of sight.
“Hey, Mercer.” Deacon stood to greet his client. They shook hands across his desk.
Mercer immediately made himself comfortable, grabbing a bottled water from the small refrigerator in the corner before sitting. He’d initiated the meeting, making the appointment with Anna Maria and not giving any specifics.
Deacon couldn’t help noticing that the other man’s customary grin was missing. Sunny must have told him about the kiss. Was that the reason for his visit?
“How are things?” Deacon strived to remain cool. No point anticipating trouble.
“Great. That’s what I came by to tell you. Entries for the Helldorado Rodeo are at a record high.”
Deacon recalled his conversation with Joe. “That could be because of you. People in the rodeo world are glad to have you back at the Easy Money. And the bulls you’re leasing from the Lost Dutchman Rodeo Company are the best in the area.”
Mercer made a sound of disgust. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Okay.” Not Liberty and lines that shouldn’t be crossed. “What’s wrong?”
“I’d like it a lot better if we were using Easy Money’s own bulls.”
“You still thinking of purchasing some with your own money?”
They’d discussed Mercer’s wish to expand the arena’s bucking stock operation before. He was determined to include bulls. Deacon supported him. To be truly a top bucking stock contractor, the Becketts couldn’t limit themselves to horses, steers and calves.
“Sunny’s dead set against it. We talked again this morning.”
That must account for Mercer’s lack of a smile. “I thought you two were getting along.”
“Like peas in a pod most days. That notion you had about the two of us finalizing and signing the partnership without anyone else there, it was a damned good one.”
Deacon agreed. Good for his client and also good for Liberty’s wish to reconcile her parents.
“She’s softening toward me, I can tell,” Mercer continued. “Except where those bulls are concerned. A buddy of mine called me yesterday with a lead on six potential champions for sale. If I don’t bite, someone else will.”
“Give her a little more time to get used to the idea,” Deacon suggested.
“That’s what Liberty said.”
Interesting. “You two are talki
ng then?”
“More or less.”
“I’d say she’s softening toward you, too.”
Mercer’s grin finally made an appearance. “You think?”
“She wants you in her life.” Deacon hadn’t done very well with his own parents. The McCreas were and would always be a dysfunctional family. Liberty and the Becketts, however, were different. They had a real chance at normalcy.
“She has a lot to forgive—to both me and her mother.”
“Then it’s up to the two of you to give her a reason to do that.”
“You’re a sharp one, Deacon.”
“That’s debatable.” Kissing Liberty came immediately to mind.
“No, it’s a fact. Folks were wrong to accuse you of causing that accident with Ernie.”
“I appreciate the vote of confidence.”
“I hope you figure out what really happened that day.”
“It was a long time ago.”
A glint flashed in his eyes. “Heard you’ve been asking questions.”
Deacon shouldn’t be surprised. News traveled fast, and he’d been contacting a lot of people.
“I’ll stop if you feel it’s interfering with my work for you.”
“Stop? Hell, I’m offering to help you if there’s anything I can do.”
Did he mean it? One way to find out.
“The insurance company sent a representative to investigate the accident. There was a report.”
“You’d like a copy?”
“I realize I’m asking a lot.”
Mercer nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you.” Deacon felt only a small stab of guilt. He didn’t deserve Mercer’s kindness, not after kissing the man’s daughter. Repeatedly.
“About those bulls for sale.” Mercer returned to the reason for his visit. “Is there a loophole in that partnership agreement?”
They discussed the terms of the agreement and Mercer’s ability to contribute assets to the Easy Money without Sunny’s consent.
“You’re walking a fine line,” Deacon said when they were done. “She could sue you for breach of contract.”
“I’m willing to risk it.” Mercer rose. “I need to get back to the arena. A bunch of officials are coming out from the school district this afternoon. You know Sunny’s on the board.”
“I remember.”
“She and Liberty are teaming up with the school to offer riding classes. Kids will earn some kind of extra credit. No money for us. But we get to take a tax write-off and, as Sunny points out, it’s good for the community.”
“That’ll keep Liberty busy.”
“She thinks the program will bring in new business.”
“She could be right.”
“I’ve been doing my share this week. Landed two more new customers. A rodeo out of San Antonio and another one from my old stomping ground in Kingman.”
“That’s encouraging, Mercer.”
“Better if we had bulls.”
“Be patient.” Deacon escorted Mercer to his office door.
He reached out and gave Deacon’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “I’ve been spreading the word around town what a good attorney you are. You should be getting a referral or two in the near future.”
“Thank you, Mercer.”
“If things keep going the way they are with Sunny, I may not need you anymore. Hope you don’t mind.”
“I understand.”
Frankly, Deacon couldn’t be happier to lose a client. Then, there’d be no conflict of interest, and he’d be free to date Liberty.
“Instead of working for me,” Mercer announced happily, “you can work for the Easy Money.”
“Sunny already has an attorney in Globe.”
Mercer dismissed the matter with a wave. “You’re local.”
Deacon had clearly gotten ahead of himself. He could no more date Liberty with the Easy Money as a client than he could while her father retained him.
Unless, of course, he refused the offer.
* * *
“I WANT PIZZA!” Benjy skipped down the sidewalk ahead of Cassidy.
“Come back here, young man,” she called, and hastened her steps. “This instant!”
Liberty resisted rolling her eyes. Her sister and nephew had been doing pretty much the same thing for the past thirty minutes. Whose idea was it anyway to have dinner in town?
Oh, yeah. Hers. Their parents had driven to Apache Junction to meet with the Lost Dutchman Rodeo Company about bulls for the Helldorado Rodeo next week. Though not usually as well attended as the arena’s other rodeos, it was an important one to those competitors attempting to qualify for the National Finals Rodeo and needing every possible win.
This year, entries were through the roof, some of them from as far away as Oklahoma and Texas. Mercer was determined to secure the best bulls for the event, hence the trip to Apache Junction.
Of course, he’d rather they were using their own bulls, a point he drove home with anyone who would listen. Liberty was surprised her mother had agreed to go with him on the short excursion. Then again, she thought hopefully, maybe Sunny’s desire to be with Mercer overrode her objections to owning bulls.
Liberty liked to think so. She’d been the one to suggest her mother accompany Mercer, and it hadn’t required much convincing.
With the evening to themselves, the sisters had decided to eat out rather than in. Cassidy was already heading to town for Benjy’s art class—both “art” and “class” being a stretch. Their office manager, Tatum, rented the empty space next to the Ship-With-Ease store and in her spare time gave group and private lessons to adults and children. She claimed it satisfied her need to teach until the school board voted in the new budget and hired her back.
Personally, Liberty thought her nephew was more the cowboy type than the artist type, but Cassidy insisted he be well-rounded. Her words. The one-afternoon-a-week Children’s Introduction to Painting class had been a summer experiment. From all reports, Benjy cut up as much in the studio as he did in the arena.
After picking him up at Tatum’s, the sisters stopped by the drugstore for a few necessities and were now deciding on a place for dinner. Liberty worried about not getting back to the arena. The long summer evening—one of the few remaining before school started—guaranteed a sizable crowd. But Walter was in charge during the Becketts’ absence and could handle things for another hour.
“Are you sure you don’t want tacos?” Cassidy asked. She’d managed to halt Benjy seconds before he stepped off the curb by grabbing hold of his shirt collar.
“You promised pizza.”
She had, Liberty mused with a smile. A deliberate bribe in the hopes of persuading him to behave during art class.
“Come on.” She nodded at the light, which had changed from red to green. “Let’s go.”
It was a short walk to Tony’s Pizza Parlor. Hopefully, Benjy would wind down by the time they got there. Cassidy had packed a few toys in her purse, just in case. Benjy didn’t sit still unless he had something to keep him busy.
Reaching the other side of the street, Liberty glanced at the row of storefront offices, one of them Deacon’s. Was he there now? He often worked late. His truck was nowhere to be seen, though that meant nothing. He always parked in the rear, leaving the spaces on the street for clients.
She knew this how? Because this wasn’t the first time she’d checked out his place of work.
Great. She was a stalker. All right, not a stalker. But she did spend too much time thinking about Deacon. She’d spend less time if he’d come around the arena more or call her again. They were grown-ups. Surely they could handle being together without throwing themselves at each other.
She remember
ed their searing kiss in the garage and immediately dismissed that theory.
What if she talked to Mercer? Admitted she wanted to date his attorney. Right. Not happening. She and Deacon would just have to wait. The remaining loose ends of her parents’ partnership agreement would soon be tied up. They had to be. Then Mercer would no longer require Deacon’s services.
Tony’s was packed as usual. In addition, the phone was ringing off the hook with pickup and delivery orders, adding to the chaos.
“What’ll you have?” the waitress asked after delivering their sodas.
“Pepperoni and cheese.” Benjy bounced in his seat.
“A large pepperoni and cheese,” Cassidy clarified. “And a dinner salad on the side for me.”
“Me, too,” Liberty added. “With low-cal dressing.” Pizza was her weakness. She told herself it was all right to have two small pieces if she didn’t splurge on high-calorie dressing.
Such a lie.
“Anything else for the young man?” The waitress smiled engagingly.
“I hate vegetables.” Benjy had constructed an obstacle course using his flatware, the salt-and-pepper shakers, a straw and sugar packets. Providing the sound effects, he drove his miniature race car through the course.
“That’ll be all.” Cassidy smiled apologetically at the waitress. “Thank you.”
“Don’t worry,” Liberty assured her when they were alone. “This is a pizza parlor. Trust me, she’s seen worse kids than Benjy. Probably in the last five minutes.”
“Where’s Grandpa?” Benjy demanded.
“With Grandma.” Cassidy reached over and tenderly stroked his hair. “They’ll be home later.”
“Can he read to me tonight?”
Cassidy’s hand stilled.
“Please,” Benjy whined.
“I’ll ask him. No promises.”
Benjy returned to playing with his car, wearing a grin that resembled Mercer’s. Cassidy wore a frown.
“He’s good to Benjy,” Liberty said.
“Can we talk about this later?”
“What did Mercer ever do to you?” Liberty asked in a low voice that was barely audible over the noise.
More Than a Cowboy (Reckless, Arizona) Page 12