More Than a Cowboy (Reckless, Arizona)

by Cathy McDavid

  “It was before.”

  “The economy was different then.”

  “Without the bulls, there’s no reason for Ryder to come home.” Liberty’s plea came straight from her heart. “I know you were angry at first, maybe still are, that I contacted Mercer without your knowledge. But this is a chance for the whole family to be together again. I thought you wanted that.”

  “Of course I want that.”

  “Then say yes.”

  “I can’t allow your father to buy the bulls with his own money. Per the partnership agreement, that will give him a greater share of the business assets. I don’t have the funds myself to match that purchase.”

  “Okay, so he owns a tiny larger portion of the business.”

  Her mother abruptly straightened. “That will not happen. I have to set the precedent now or he’ll steamroller me on every decision.”

  “Hear, hear,” Cassidy seconded.

  She and their mother promptly engaged in a one-sided debate that excluded Liberty.

  “Owning bulls presents a whole new set of problems.” Sunny ticked the items off on her fingers. “Our insurance policy would have to be requoted. Workmen’s compensation, too. Bull riding is the most dangerous of all rodeo events. Our liability waivers would need updating. The bulls we lease are fully covered by the various stock contractors. Not to mention the feed bill. Bulls eat an enormous amount.”

  “Remember,” Cassidy said, “we used to have a full-time bull handler. We’d need one again. That’s another expense.”

  Liberty blew out a long, frustrated breath. They were making excuses. Given time, they’d manufacture a dozen more.

  “Mercer can handle the bulls,” she said.

  “What about when Walter retires?” Her mother pushed away from the table.

  Yet another excuse. “Why are you suddenly opposing Mercer?”

  “This is hardly sudden.”

  “Seems to me you two have been getting along pretty good lately. I saw you kissing him yesterday,” Liberty said.

  Cassidy gasped. “You kissed him?”

  “It’s not what you think.”

  “Seriously, Mom. There’s only one way to interpret a kiss.” Was it Liberty’s imagination, or was her mother blushing? “You still love him. Admit it.”

  “A part of me will always love him. But we’re not in love and not a couple.”

  “Not yet.”

  “Definitely not if he purchases those bulls without my consent.” She dumped her empty coffee mug in the sink. It banged against the other dishes.

  For a moment, they were all silent. A knock sounded at the kitchen door, causing Liberty to jump. Was it Mercer?

  Kenny’s smiling face greeted her mother when she opened the door. “Hate to bother you, Sunny, but the battery’s dead in the tractor, and I need to grade the arena.”

  “Where’s Mercer?”

  “Can’t find him. Or a pair of jumper cables.”

  “I have some in my car. Be right back,” she said over her shoulder. “You two, shake a leg. The food and merchandise vendors have already arrived, and the entrance gate opens in twenty minutes.”

  Liberty checked the microwave clock and silently groaned. Disposing of her own mug—more gently—she started for her bedroom and the change of clothes she desperately needed. She didn’t get far.

  “What’s with you and Deacon?” Cassidy stopped her in the hall. “I heard you two were dancing up a storm at the Hole in the Wall last night. Then you didn’t come home.”

  “I fell asleep.”

  “On his couch or in his bed?”

  “When he brought me home last night, Mercer’s truck was in the driveway.” Liberty leaned against the wall. “I didn’t want to walk in on him and Mom, so Deacon took me back to his place. We talked.”

  “Talked. Right.”

  “It’s not what you think,” Liberty said, echoing her mother. Did she sound as lame?

  “I like Deacon, I told you that before. But he’s Dad’s attorney.”

  “Not for long.”

  “You’re crossing a line,” her sister warned.

  “Soon, there’ll be no line. Deacon promised.”

  “Men disappoint you.”

  Was that a reference to the man who had fathered her child and broken her heart?

  “If I were you, I’d worry more about Mom and Mercer and less about me and Deacon.”

  There was genuine compassion and concern in Cassidy’s voice when she spoke. “I hope you’re right, little sister. I truly do.”

  Liberty hoped so, too, and that she didn’t come to regret the day she’d tracked Mercer down and invited him to Reckless.

  Chapter Thirteen

  On Monday at 9:27 a.m. sharp Mercer presented himself at Deacon’s office. Anna Maria showed him in, her darkly penciled brows drawn together in a severe V.

  What, Deacon wondered, had Mercer said to his secretary to worry her?

  “We need to talk,” Mercer announced without preamble.

  They did, which was why Deacon had scheduled the appointment to terminate their contract yesterday at the rodeo. Not wishing to alert his client, he’d cited a routine reason.

  Given Mercer’s apparent anger, he’d either discovered Deacon’s true purpose or something else had happened.

  “About what?” he asked.

  Mercer waved a hand in the air. “I need you to do whatever it is you attorneys do to sever the partnership agreement between me and Sunny.”

  Deacon had been standing when Mercer entered his office. At his client’s demand he sat—plunked was a better description—into his chair. He’d anticipated the meeting not going well. Now he was certain of it but for different reasons.

  “It’s called a dissolution.” He took a moment to organize his thoughts. “And it’s nothing you want to rush into.”

  “I’m not rushing. I’ve thought about nothing else since yesterday.”

  “Is this abrupt change because Sunny objects to you buying the bulls”

  “Damn straight.”

  Liberty and Deacon had spoken briefly yesterday at the rodeo and again a couple of hours ago, right before her first riding class. She’d told him about her mother and Mercer arguing off and on all day yesterday and again this morning. Also about the heated discussion she’d had with her mother and sister.

  Deacon had glimpsed the steel that lay beneath Mercer’s affable manner the other day when he warned Deacon to stay away from Liberty. Apparently, two days of arguing with his ex only hardened that metal.

  “I advise against it, Mercer. You and Sunny running the arena together is in both of your best interests.”

  “Sunny is wrong.”

  “And Liberty’s right. You coerce people into doing what you want. It’s one thing in business, another thing entirely when it comes to family.”

  “This is business.”

  “It’s more than that.”

  “Sunny’s been in charge of the arena a long time. She has to understand she has a partner now.”

  “The way to make her understand isn’t to dissolve your partnership.”

  “She’ll concede before it comes to that.”

  “You’re taking a huge risk.” Deacon decided to stop tiptoeing around the older man. “You’ll not only drive a permanent wedge between you and Sunny, you’ll drive one between you and your daughters.”

  “Liberty sides with me. She said so herself.”

  “Yes, when it comes to expanding the bucking stock operation. Not with your tactics. If you hurt Sunny and make her unhappy, I guarantee Liberty will stop siding with you in a heartbeat. She loves her mother, despite their recent difficulties.”

  “You call lying to her all her life a difficulty?” />
  “She won’t choose you over Sunny in the end. She doesn’t have the same feelings for you.”

  Mercer’s features fell. A moment later, the snarl was back in his bark. “I’m sick and tired of Sunny holding my drinking against me. I’ve proved over and over I’m reformed.”

  “You have. But threatening her isn’t the solution.”

  “If she wants to be in charge of the arena that badly, she can. I’ll just leave and take the money she owes me.”

  Whatever was going on with Sunny and Mercer went beyond the bulls. They were simply using them as a battleground for their personal war. Unfortunately, their children and grandson were the ones suffering—not to mention their business.

  “I saw you kissing Sunny.”

  “You did?” Some of Mercer’s bluster deserted him.

  “Liberty saw, too.”

  He made a disgruntled sound under his breath.

  “You and Sunny have a lot of history together. Falling into old habits is natural.”

  “Kissing her wasn’t an old habit.”

  “For you. Maybe for her it was. She could have been testing the waters or satisfying her curiosity.”

  “What are you, a therapist as well as an attorney?”

  Sometimes. It came with the job; however, admitting as much wouldn’t win Deacon points, and he preferred not to antagonize Mercer. He was already perturbed, and there was still the termination of their representation contract to discuss.

  “I strongly suggest you take a few days to consider this. Surely that won’t make any difference. Talk to Sunny and your daughters. Not argue.”

  “Can’t.” Mercer shook his head. “The livestock broker gave me until five o’clock today or he’ll sell the bulls to the next buyer in line. A bargain like this doesn’t come around very often.”

  “Can you buy the bulls and keep them somewhere else? Just until Sunny relents?”

  “What good is that?” Mercer snorted. “The whole purpose of buying them is to increase revenues. I want you to prepare the dissolution and deliver it to Sunny by this afternoon.”

  What would Liberty say to that? Nothing good. She’d feel betrayed, naturally. Not two nights ago he’d assured her he was terminating his relationship with her father and clearing the path for them. Worse, Deacon would be an instrument in helping Mercer tear the Becketts further apart.

  “No,” he said. “I won’t do it.”

  “You have to. You’re my attorney. You work for me.”

  “Not anymore. Consider this my notice.”

  Deacon had planned on giving Mercer thirty days. In light of this recent development, he didn’t deserve it.

  “Did Liberty put you up to this?” Surprise, then anger, flared in Mercer’s eyes. “I heard you two have been keeping company despite what I told you.”

  Deacon braced himself. “My personal life is off-limits.”

  “You wouldn’t be doing this if not for her.”

  “Under any circumstances I would be advising you against dissolving your partnership agreement with Sunny. It’s a bad idea. You’re acting out of anger because she rejected you.”

  He leaned forward and pounded Deacon’s desk. “She did not reject me. It wasn’t like that.”

  Not true. Mercer was overconfident. It went along with his need to control others. He’d figured one kiss and Sunny would automatically toe the line. Only she hadn’t.

  “I want that dissolution delivered today,” he demanded in a raised voice.

  Deacon didn’t budge. “There’s an attorney in Globe I recommend. She can prepare the necessary document and deliver it.”

  “That’ll waste time.”

  “You’re making a mistake, and I won’t be a part of it.”

  “You will.” Mercer stood. “Or I’ll call the bar association and report you. I’m pretty sure that sleeping with your client’s daughter is against some kind of code or rule.”

  “You don’t know what went on between us.”

  “I can make a pretty good guess.”

  Deacon felt as if he’d hit the ground hard after being thrown from a second-story window. If Mercer made that call, there would be an inquiry. Possibly an investigation. His license to practice law could be suspended.

  “Mercer, I—”

  “Call me when you’ve delivered the dissolution to Sunny.” He didn’t wait for Deacon to reply and stormed out of the office.

  “Everything okay?” Anna Maria asked a few minutes later.

  How much, if anything, had she heard?

  “Yeah. Can you call and reschedule my ten-o’clock for tomorrow? My one-o’clock, too. And hold my calls.”

  “Sure. Let me know if you need anything else.”

  He would. He’d need her to type up the letter notifying Sunny that Mercer was formally dissolving their partnership.

  As much as Deacon disagreed with his client, and as much as he didn’t want to do this for Liberty and her family’s sake, he had no choice. He’d worked too hard and too long, endured too many hardships, to jeopardize his career.

  Liberty would have to understand that Mercer had strong-armed him with threats just like her and the rest of the Beckett women.

  There was, however, one important difference. Deacon had only himself to blame for the position he was in. He’d spent the night with Liberty knowing full well it was wrong, and now he was going to pay the price. They both were.

  * * *

  “CAN HE DO THIS?” Sunny sat at her desk, reading the partnership dissolution letter.

  “I recommend you seek the council of your own attorney,” Deacon said.

  “Quit the legal mumbo jumbo and tell me.” She glared at him, angrily but not accusingly.

  “He can, and I’m afraid he will.” Deacon had come to their meeting wearing his game face. He hoped it was still in place. “The way the agreement is worded, either partner can dissolve the partnership simply by giving notice.”

  “What do I do?” The letter floated to the desktop, and her head fell into her waiting hands. “He’ll demand the money I owe him. Bankrupt us. Just like before.”

  Here we go again, Deacon thought. He could fault Mercer plenty for his unashamed audacity, but he’d take that any day over Sunny and her melodramatics.

  Poor Liberty, being saddled with these two.

  “No disrespect intended, but you should have thought of that before you refused.”

  Her head shot up. “Excuse me!”

  In the distance, thunder boomed. The monsoon season, almost at an end, was sending them a final downpour. How appropriate.

  “Is it the bulls you’re afraid of, or something else?”

  “I don’t like what you’re implying.” Her voice went from desperate to sharp.

  “Then I’ll take my leave.” He picked up his briefcase and started for the door, more than ready to be done with the Becketts.

  Truth be told, he was fed up with both Mercer’s and Sunny’s antics. They were selfish, spiteful and cared only for themselves while pretending to care for others.

  His parents were equally selfish. They, at least, didn’t hide behind pretenses.

  At that moment, the office door flew open, and Liberty tumbled inside. “Where is it?” she demanded. “Let me see.”

  Sunny had telephoned her daughters the minute Deacon presented her with the dissolution letter. Cassidy and Benjy were shopping for school supplies with Tatum and her brood. Liberty was apparently nearer.

  Deacon had searched for her when he first arrived at the arena. While he couldn’t have revealed the contents of the letter, he’d wanted to prepare her for bad news. Luck wasn’t on his side—she’d been nowhere around.

  Sunny passed the letter to Liberty. Her complexion paled as she read it.
“What in God’s name is he doing?”

  Tearing his family apart, in Deacon’s opinion. “You’ll have to ask him.”

  Though it troubled Deacon to leave her in such an obvious state of distress, he squeezed past her toward the door. “I’m sorry.”

  The apology was hardly adequate to make up for her misery. It was, however, the most he could offer at the moment.

  He’d barely reached his truck when she came up behind him.

  “How could you?” she demanded.

  What? Disappoint her? Fail her? Break his promise? He picked delivering the letter to dissolve their partnership.

  “I had no choice.” Facing her was difficult. Deacon did it anyway. She deserved more from him than to speak to his back.

  “You could have refused.”

  Telling her that Mercer threatened to report him to the bar association would be shifting the blame from himself and taking the coward’s way out. Deacon would have none of it.

  “I work for your father. As long as what he asks of me isn’t illegal or fraudulent, it’s my duty, my obligation, to comply.”

  “You said you were going to terminate your relationship with him.”

  “I gave him my notice. He didn’t accept it.”

  “Does he have a choice?”

  “Delivering the letter to your mother was my last official task for him. I advised against it, tried to change his mind. He was adamant.”

  “I still don’t understand.” She pressed the heel of her hand into her forehead.

  “Your father is no dummy, and he persuaded me rather convincingly.”

  “He did more than persuade. I’m one of his victims, remember?” Her hand dropped limply to her side. “What hammer did he hold over your head? Me?”

  “I can’t discuss that with you.”

  “Seriously, Deacon? You’re going to pull that attorney-client privilege BS on me now of all times?”

  “It’s not BS.”

  “Mom doesn’t have the money. Dissolving the partnership could ruin our business.”

  “It could.”

  “And, yet, you delivered the letter.”