“Why didn’t you? Come back, I mean.”
“I was a drunk. Not a fit father for any child. I’d proved that with your sister. Picking her up at her friend’s house and bringing her home when I had no business being behind the wheel.”
Liberty blinked. More tears? Seriously, she was crying at the least little thing. Except this wasn’t a little thing.
“You were a fit father to Ryder. You stopped drinking when he came to live with you.”
“He’s not the reason I dried out.” Mercer laid a hand on her shoulder. He hadn’t touched her since that first day they met in the Flat Iron Restaurant. “It was the stories he told me about his baby sister. I realized what I was missing. What a fool I’d been to abandon my family.” He let his hand drop and shrugged. “I stopped drinking.”
“But you didn’t come back.” For me, she silently added.
“I did. Several times. Brought Ryder to spend summers here. You were young. Probably don’t remember.”
She did. The memories were fuzzy but there. She’d been a bit in awe of the man whom her brother and sister called Dad.
“Your mother.” Mercer shrugged again. “She wasn’t ready to forgive me, much less let me near you. When I hinted to her that I was your father, she ran me off the place a second time.”
“You could have tried harder.”
“Yeah. We all could have done things differently.” Was he referring to that list of regrets? “I chose to not take any payments for my share of the arena. I thought that the more money your mother had to run the household, the better life she’d be able to give you. My inadequate way of making amends.”
“Then why come back now and demand the money?”
“Same as you. I want this family reunited.”
“You picked a lousy way of doing it.”
“Did I?” The corners of his mouth quirked. “I’m back in Reckless. Your mother and I are working together. And whether she admits it or not, she’s starting to take a shine to me.”
Liberty couldn’t argue that. She’d seen them kissing. One or two of those old sparks were still burning.
“Ryder’s coming home,” Mercer continued. “I’m spending time with my grandson. And you and I are getting acquainted. That sister of yours.” He exhaled slowly. “She’s a hard one. I think she’ll come around eventually. I’m not going to give up on her.”
What an egomaniac, Liberty thought. “Everyone is mad at you for trying to run their lives. How can you say you didn’t pick a lousy way? Threats and manipulation?”
“Do you honestly think if I’d been sweet and agreeable and easygoing we’d be working together now?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“Probably not,” she relented.
“Don’t throw away your chance at happiness simply because you dislike my methods.”
He had tried to be a father to her when she was little. Not his fault her mother drove him off. And when she had, he’d done the best he could.
Gosh darn it all. His intentions were good. She groaned.
“Okay. I’ll talk to Deacon.” If she didn’t, she’d wonder for the rest of her life what might have been.
“That’s my girl. Now, come here.”
He didn’t wait for her answer, simply pulled her into a bear hug. The scent of his aftershave engulfed her. Liberty closed her eyes and inhaled.
“I’m going to need a copy of our contract,” she said when he released her.
“Or you can just tell him about the changes. Seeing as he’s here.”
“He is?” she squeaked, and looked around.
“That’s his truck.”
Deacon must have pulled in while she and her mother were talking. Otherwise, she’d have noticed.
“Go on.” He gave her a gentle push. “You’re wasting daylight.”
She stared for a moment, seeing Mercer in a new light. He might not be the picture-perfect father she’d created in her mind all those years growing up, but he was her father, and he did love her.
“Thanks,” she said. “For coming home.”
“It’s going to be okay, Libby.”
She nodded. “See you later. Dad.”
A wide grin spread across his face. “That you will. Count on it.”
* * *
DEACON STOOD AT the pens, watching the bulls stomp the ground and bellow noisily. They were a rowdy bunch and seemed to know that practice was starting soon and Walter would be moving them to the bucking chutes. The cowboys riding tonight would get their money’s worth.
These pens and those gates were where it all had started. Deacon’s journey of the past eleven years. He wasn’t usually the melancholy type. Today was an exception.
“Do you have a minute?”
At the feminine voice, Deacon turned. He’d half expected—half hoped—he’d run into Liberty. It was Sunny, however.
“Sure.”
She stepped closer. “There’s something I want to say to you. An apology I need to issue.”
“You talked to Ernie?”
“He came by earlier. Frankly, I was rather startled to learn the accident was intentional and that he’d caused it.”
“Because you thought it was me all along?” Deacon wasn’t mad anymore. He was curious, though.
“I honestly thought it was an oversight. A mistake. You, or someone, left the gate open.” She glanced away momentarily, then back at him. “I should have stood by you more. Defended you. It wouldn’t have made a difference in either the arena’s reputation or the business. I owed you that much.”
“It’s all right, Sunny.”
“It isn’t. You need to know how deeply I regret my actions.”
Deacon kept telling himself he was a changed man. Time to prove it.
“Thank you,” he said.
She extended her hand. He took it in his, feeling the last of the old wounds heal.
“You’re exactly the kind of man I’ve always hoped Liberty would find.’
“She’s exactly the kind of gal I hoped to find.”
“Maybe you should tell that to her.” Sunny smiled and stepped back.
Liberty stood there, looking prettier than ever. Deacon had seen her talking to Mercer. When had she come over? He was usually more attuned to her, sensing her presence before she appeared.
He hardly noticed Sunny melt away. The next moment she was gone, walking toward Mercer, who waited near the arena. Had the other man heard what Sunny said? Had Liberty?
“Were you going to say goodbye before you left?”
He took a moment to look at her. Just look.
It had been much, much too long since they were this close. Ten days that had felt more like a year. Once he’d let her into his life, she’d become vital to his existence. He understood Mercer’s addiction in a way he hadn’t before. For Deacon, Liberty was his whiskey.
“I’m not leaving just yet,” he said, wondering if she detected the unsteadiness in his voice. “Thought I’d go on a ride. Wanted to see the bulls first.”
“Ernie said you were taking a job at that law firm where your friend works.”
“They made me a nice offer.” Deacon took a step toward her. It didn’t lessen the sensation of an insurmountable distance between them.
“Were you going to tell me about it?”
“Yes.”
This time, she took a step toward him, and Deacon felt something he hadn’t thought possible. Hope.
“You came back to Reckless to clear your name, and now you have.”
“Funny, it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“What’s changed?” She studied him as if searching for signs of the different person he’d become.
“You were right. I n
eeded to prove something to myself more than clear my name.”
“Did you?”
“I’m not a coward.”
“No, you’re not. My family has put you through hell. More than once. And you’ve stood strong. That takes real courage.”
A particularly large bull swung his head and rammed the fence, objecting to Walter’s insistence that he follow his mates down the narrow corridor. They were a handful. Sunny’s concerns weren’t completely unfounded.
“I saw you and Mercer hugging,” Deacon said.
“He’s trying to be a decent dad.”
“That’s good.”
“But he’s still impossible.” She sighed indignantly.
“That’s part of his charm.”
“He told me about threatening to call the bar association and report you. I was shocked.”
“Yeah.” Deacon pushed back his cowboy hat. “I’ve yet to find a positive slant to that one.”
“I have.” She came another step closer. “Not for threatening to call the bar association but him forcing you to deliver the dissolution letter.”
“I’m all ears.”
“You insisted I needed to repair my relationship with my parents before we could have one. You were right, and that wouldn’t have happened without our argument.”
“I didn’t want to argue.”
“I was pretty mad at you for a few days.”
“And now?” He took a step toward her.
“Not mad.” She shrugged a shoulder.
“What do you really want, Liberty?” There was only one answer she could give that would keep him from walking away.
“My father suggested I find you. He says our bucking stock contract needs updating to include the bulls.”
His disappointment was acute. Like having an arm ripped off.
“I should probably get going. Huck and Confetti need exercising.”
She blocked his way. “I told him that was a pathetic ploy, and you’d see right through it.”
“Really now.”
“Don’t leave. Don’t take that job in Phoenix. Stay in Reckless. With me.”
Deacon grabbed her by the shoulders and hauled her onto her tiptoes so that they were nose to nose. Mouth to mouth.
“How do you feel about me, Liberty? Do you love me? Because I love you, and I’ve never said that to a woman before.”
“Yes, oh, yes!” She threw her arms around his neck. “I love you, Deacon. And I’ve said it many times. To you. I just didn’t let you hear me.”
He kissed her then, and in that moment, everything wrong became right. He was holding the woman he loved and she loved him in return.
“Just so you know,” he said, when they finally broke apart. “I’m not leaving Reckless.”
“You aren’t?”
“The job offer’s a good one, but I turned down my friend.”
“Why?”
“I thought maybe if I stuck around, you’d come to your senses.”
“Me!” She swatted him on the chest, then pulled his mouth down for another kiss. A much longer one.
The bulls were gone and in the chutes by the time they started toward the barn, hand in hand.
“You in the mood for company on your ride?” she asked.
He thought of the view from the Aqua Vista Trail and sharing it with Liberty. “Absolutely.”
She smiled coyly. “Maybe afterward we can go to your place.”
“How ’bout dinner first? At the Flat Iron.”
“Dinner out? I was thinking in. Like in bed.”
He stopped her there in the open area between the barn and arena and cradled her cheek. “I want to go on a date with you, one where we get to know each other. Not talk about business or our families. We can take this slow or fast, however you want. You need to know one thing, though.”
“What’s that?”
He didn’t think he’d ever grow tired of staring into those blue eyes of hers. Especially when they were gazing at him with love and happiness.
“I’m in this for the long haul. I’m not going to propose tonight. But I will. Soon. Ring, down on one knee, the whole nine yards. It’s going to happen, honey. If you aren’t serious, now’s the time to say so.”
“I’m serious.” She reached up and covered his hand with hers. “I’ve waited a long time for you, Deacon McCrea. You aren’t getting away from me again.”
“Glad that’s settled.”
He’d have kissed her again if not for her parents descending on them.
“Sorry,” she muttered under her breath. “They’re impossible. They were probably spying on us.”
“Then let’s give them something worth watching.”
Laughing, he swept her up in his arms and twirled them in a circle.
Life with Liberty wasn’t going to be boring by any stretch of the imagination, and he couldn’t wait to see what the future held. For too long, Reckless had simply been the town where he grew up. By loving him, Liberty had made it his home.
* * * * *
Look for the next book in Cathy McDavid’s
RECKLESS, ARIZONA trilogy
coming soon!
Keep reading for an excerpt from THE REBEL COWBOY’S QUADRUPLETS by Tina Leonard.
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Chapter One
Justin Morant recognized trouble when his buddy Ty Spurlock texted him a link to a dating website. This was what happened when you had to leave the rodeo circuit thanks to a career-ending injury: your friends decided you needed a woman with whom to share your retirement, and maybe a spread to call your own because you were going to need something to do with your new spare time. The woman would run your life and the spread would rule your life, and maybe it was one and the same. You’d work hard, be tied to the land and the woman, never have two nickels to call your own. You’d have children and, suddenly, you were up to your neck in obligations and debt.
He’d seen it happen too many times. At twenty-seven, Justin was in no hurry to be fobbed off on a woman who was so desperate for a man that she’d use an online service.
He packed up his duffel, tossed it in his seen-better-days white truck and headed away from Montana, destination unknown, knee killing him this fine summer day.
His phone rang and Justin pulled over. This was a conversation that was going to follow him every step of his self-imposed sabbatical if he didn’t stamp it out now.
“I’m not going to answer the ad, Ty,” he said, skipping the greetings.
“Hear me out, big guy. I’m from Bridesmaids Creek. I know where the Hawthorne spread is. It’s the Hanging H ranch, or, as we locals fondly call it, the Haunted H. Go check out the place. You’ve got nothing better to do, my friend.”
“What kind of a name is Haunted H?”
“The Hawthornes used to run a yearly haunted house for kiddies there, and folks remember that. It was bad to the bone, and rug rats to small-fry attended like bees at a hive. Mackenzie’s folks did everything they could to turn a dime with it. Her family raked in dough nine months a year with puppet shows, petting zoos, pony rides and lots of
good treats.”
“Nine months a year?”
“Well, three months a year it was turned into Winter Wonderland at the Haunted H, to go with the town’s annual Christmastown on the square,” Ty said, as if Justin didn’t understand the importance of holidays. “You have to appreciate that a haunted house wouldn’t be as much of a draw as Santa Claus for the youngsters.”
“So what happened to the place?”
“Hard times hit us all, buddy,” Ty said, a little mysteriously for Justin’s radar. “Give Mackenzie a call. You’re burning daylight on this deal. Someone’s going to answer that ad, which will come as a shock to her because she doesn’t know what’s been done on her behalf.” Ty laughed. “The only thing I haven’t been able to figure out is why someone in Bridesmaids Creek hasn’t already gotten her to the altar. I’m not suggesting you try to do that, of course. Small towns usually keep their own pretty well matched up, and judging by her profile on the dating site, that should happen soon enough. Good luck, my friend.”
Ty hung up. Justin tossed his Stetson onto the seat with some righteous disgust and pulled back on the road.
He wasn’t going to Texas. Not to Bridesmaids Creek to a woman whose family had operated a haunted house.
Just because a man could no longer ride didn’t mean he had to make a laughingstock of himself.
* * *
MACKENZIE HAWTHORNE SMILED, looking at the four tiny babies finally sleeping in their white bassinets. “Whew,” she said to Jade Harper. “Thanks for the help.”
“That’s what best friends are for.” She arranged soft white blankets over each baby, protecting them from the cool drafts blowing from the air conditioner, which seemed to run almost constantly this baking-hot July. “Who would have ever thought Tommy possessed the swimmers to make four beautiful little girls?”
Mackenzie smiled at her adorable daughters, all scrunchy-faced in their tiny pink onesies. “Don’t talk to me about my ex. Every time I think about him dating that twenty-year-old, I want to eat chocolate. I’m trying very hard not to do that. Your mother keeps me busy enough with desserts I can’t resist.”
Jade laughed. “Tommy Fields was never right for you. What you need is a real man.” She hugged Mackenzie. “You rest while these little angels are asleep. Mom will be over this afternoon with dinner and to help out. I’ve got to get down to the peach stand and help make ice cream. ’Bye, darling.”
More Than a Cowboy (Reckless, Arizona) Page 20