Her Rodeo Man

by Cathy McDavid

  “Look, it’s not...”

  What could he say? That he wasn’t after her job? Okay, maybe he was, but only parts of it and only temporarily. She, however, didn’t know that.

  “See you in the morning.” She left, her movements no longer graceful but stilted.

  Well, at least Ryder didn’t have to worry about becoming involved with a coworker. Any chance of that happening was walking away with Ms. Mayweather.

  Only after she’d disappeared through a door across from the tack room did Ryder realize she hadn’t asked Mercer to check on Cupcake.

  * * *

  RYDER’S FATHER KEPT up a near constant stream of conversation as they covered the short distance from the barn to the house. “Thanks for coming. It means a lot to me. Your mother, too.”

  It was no secret Ryder’s father still loved his ex-wife and intended to win her back. Ryder had agreed to help and support him with the expansion of the rodeo arena. He didn’t, however, understand his father’s enduring feelings regarding his mother.

  “Hope you’re hungry,” his father said. “Your mother’s fixed enough food for a dozen people.”

  “I don’t want her going to any trouble.”

  “Your early arrival put her in quite a tizzy. She made an emergency run to the grocery store last night just to have the food you like on hand.”

  “I’m not picky, Dad.”

  “Well, this is a big day for her. She’s nervous.”

  She wasn’t the only one. Ryder had been fighting anxiety for days now.

  Five years was a long time to go without seeing one’s mother. They’d spoken on the phone, but only occasionally when he happened to call his sisters. Mostly on birthdays and Christmas. One or the other insisted he talk to their mother, too. He usually relented, solely for his sisters’ sakes. Ryder simply couldn’t get past what he saw as his mother’s betrayal.

  His father always defended his mother, saying she was right to divorce him. Ryder didn’t see it that way. She cared only about herself and hadn’t once considered the effect losing their father would have on her children.

  Her selfishness, however, wasn’t the only reason his return was difficult. She’d lied. For twenty-five years. To everyone. And like the divorce, the lies had stolen parts of their lives they could never get back.

  “The girls can’t wait to see you.” His father talked about Ryder’s grown sisters as if they were young. Then again, Cassidy had been only ten when their parents divorced, to Ryder’s twelve, and Liberty not even born yet. His father probably did think of Ryder’s sisters as “girls.” “Cassidy’s volunteering at Benjie’s school this morning,” he continued, “and Liberty’s in Globe, picking up lumber. That young man of hers is coming to lunch, too.”

  “You like him?”

  “If you’re asking me, is he good enough for her, the answer is yes. I like him. Hell, I fixed ’em up.”

  “That’s not the story I heard. You darn near ruined their relationship.”

  “Water under the bridge.”

  Ryder’s sister obviously possessed a forgiving heart. “What’s the lumber for? Fences?”

  “Building jumps. We teach English hunter classes now, if you can believe that. Part of our outreach program with the school. We offer riding instruction to students for a discount price. Your mother’s on the school board and spearheaded the whole thing.”

  “I had no idea.” What else would Ryder learn about his mother during his stay? Did he care?

  “It’s good for the arena, and it’s good for the community. Gives the students something to do in the afternoons and on weekends. Reckless is a small town without funding for local sports programs. But you know that as well as anyone.”

  Ryder did. He’d grown up in Reckless until he was fourteen and legally old enough to choose which of his parents he wanted to live with. On the day after his birthday, he’d packed his suitcase. A week later, when nothing his mother said or did and no amount of tears she cried made a difference, Ryder boarded a bus to Kingman where his father had moved.

  For a few weeks each summer, he came back. That ended once Ryder graduated high school and left for college, allowing the rift between him and his mother to widen.

  Then, a few months ago, Liberty discovered she shared the same biological father as her siblings and made contact, inviting him to Reckless for the purpose of getting acquainted. He did that, along with exercising his right to half ownership of the arena. When Ryder’s mother objected, he threatened her with legal action. Having little choice, she eventually caved.

  The result, the Becketts were now all in one place, though not reunited. Perhaps that was too much to ask.

  His father led Ryder through the spacious backyard with its well-tended lawn. The swings and slide from Ryder’s youth were gone, replaced by one of those multicolored modular play sets, he assumed for his nephew, Benjie. Just as well. Ryder sported a three-inch scar on his forearm, proof that the swings and slide had been old and dilapidated even in his day.

  His father opened the kitchen door without knocking and called, “Sunny, you here?”

  Though his father didn’t live at the arena—he rented a small place in town—Ryder suspected he was a frequent visitor to the house. Apparently his mother really was softening toward him.

  Her response drifted to them from down the hall. “Be right out.”

  Ryder paused inside the door.

  “Don’t just stand there.” His father beckoned him with a wave. “It’s not like you’re a stranger.”

  Wrong. Ryder was a stranger. He’d lived many more years in Phoenix than Reckless—a mere seventy miles away, yet it might as well have been a million.

  He advanced three whole feet before coming to another halt. That was all the distance required to walk from the present straight into the past, and the sensation knocked him off-kilter.

  While he stood there, his father went to the fridge and helped himself to a chilled bottled water, further confirming Ryder’s suspicions that he was a regular visitor.

  “You want one?” He held out a second bottle.

  “Thanks.” Funny how Ryder’s throat had gone completely dry. He accepted the bottle, twisted off the cap and took a long swallow. The cold water restored his balance.

  Footsteps warned him of his mother’s approach. He had but a few seconds to replace the bottle cap and prepare himself before she appeared.

  “Ryder!” Cheeks flushed, she hurried toward him.

  He tried to form his mouth into something resembling a smile. He must have succeeded, for she beamed.

  “I’m so happy you came.”

  “It’s good to see you, Mom.” He uttered the words automatically.

  They hugged, his mother clinging to him while Ryder gave her shoulders a perfunctory squeeze. He’d accepted his father and Liberty’s invitation, it was his responsibility to deal with the consequences. Beside them, his father grunted with approval.

  “Are you hungry?” His mother released him and brushed self-consciously at her hair, which was styled perfectly and in no need of tidying. “I made chili and corn bread.”

  His favorite meal as a boy. All right, it was still one of his favorite meals. Maybe because it reminded him of the good times, before their lives had imploded.

  “Great. Thanks.”

  After an awkward moment of silence, she said, “I see you got a water.”

  “I did.”

  She skimmed her palms down the sides of her jeans. “We could sit in the living room. If you want. Until your sisters get here. Or outside. Though it’s hot.”

  “Anywhere’s fine with me,” Ryder said. He’d be on edge and defensive regardless of his surroundings.

  His father must have taken pity on his mother, for he said, “Let’s sit at the kitchen tabl
e. Like the old days.”

  Ryder wasn’t sure about the old days, but he reached for a chair. The same one he’d sat in as a child.

  Abruptly, he moved his hand to the next chair over. He refused to slip into former habits just because he was back in Reckless, even habits as seemingly harmless as which chair he occupied.

  An awkward silence descended. For no reason really, Ryder attempted to fill it with small talk. “How have you been, Mom?”

  “All right. Busy. We now have weekly team penning competitions and bull-riding jackpots, monthly roping clinics and have almost doubled the number of riding classes offered. The Wild West Days Rodeo is in a couple of weeks.”

  As a kid, Ryder had loved Wild West Days. The week-long, town-wide event included a parade, an outdoor arts-and-crafts festival, food vendors, square dancing and mock gunfights. Cowfolk and tourists alike traveled halfway across the country to participate in both the rodeo at the Easy Money and the other activities.

  Ryder’s mind went in the direction it always did. “Have you done any promotion?”

  “The usual,” his mother answered.

  “Which is?”

  “Tatum updated the website a couple months ago. We’ve sent out notices, both email and postcards. There are posters and flyers in town.”

  In Ryder’s opinion, posters and flyers in town were a complete waste of resources. There was no need to advertise locally. The goal was to bring outsiders to Reckless.

  “Have you considered reciprocating with other rodeo arenas?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Ask them to advertise our rodeo in exchange for advertising theirs.”

  “Why would our competition do us any favors?” his father asked. “Or us them?” The question wasn’t intended to criticize. He appeared genuinely interested.

  “It’s not competition as long as the rodeos fall in different months.”

  “Would they go along? The other arenas?”

  “We can ask.”

  His parents exchanged glances, then his father shrugged. “I say yes.”

  “I think it’s a great idea.”

  To Ryder’s ears, his mother’s enthusiasm rang false. He wanted to tell her that she didn’t need to endorse his ideas just because she was glad to have him home.

  “Tatum can compile a list of potential rodeo arenas in the morning,” his father suggested.

  His mother readily agreed. “I’ll ask her.”

  “Or Ryder can. They’re already meeting.”

  Yeah. Ryder couldn’t help wondering how that would go.

  The back door abruptly swung open, and his sister Liberty burst into the kitchen, followed closely by a tall cowboy. Ryder guessed the man to be his future brother-in-law.

  He’d barely stood when she threw herself at him. “Ryder!”

  Unlike with his mother, the hug he gave his baby sister was filled with affection. “Hey, pip-squeak. How are you?”

  She buried her face in the front of his shirt. “Better now.”

  He leaned back to look at her. “You’re not crying, are you?”

  “Absolutely not.” She sniffed and wiped at her nose.

  Ryder pulled her close again, his heart aching. Not spending time with Liberty, not getting to watch her grow up, was one of his biggest regrets about leaving Reckless and his main reason for returning. That, and guilt. She’d suffered the most from their mother’s lies. If he could make up for that in some small way, he would.

  “I’m really happy you came.”

  Would she say that, love him less, if she knew the other reason for his return?

  “After a week, you’ll probably be sick of me,” he said.

  “Not going to happen.” Liberty turned to her fiancé. “This is Deacon.”

  Ryder wasn’t the sentimental sort, but the tender way she spoke Deacon’s name affected him. He was glad she’d found happiness; she certainly deserved it.

  What kind of mother lied to her child about the identity of her father? The same one who thought only of herself and not her children when she unceremoniously tossed their father out and refused to let him back into their lives.

  “Nice to finally meet you.” Putting thoughts of his mother aside, Ryder shook Deacon’s hand. “I’ve heard good things about you.”

  “Same here.”

  In his line of work, Ryder often made snap judgments. Deacon’s handshake was firm and offered without hesitation. A good sign. Ryder decided he approved of his sister’s choice in husband.

  The pleasantries that followed were cut short when Cassidy and, to Ryder’s surprise, Tatum Mayweather arrived to join them. Wasn’t she supposed to be at work?

  For a moment, he and Cassidy simply stared at each other. Once, they’d been inseparable. Then, their parents divorced, and sides were declared. Ryder had chosen their father’s, Cassidy their mother’s. Growing apart from her was another of his regrets.

  He made the first move and opened his arms. She stepped into his embrace, and Ryder swore everyone in the room visibly relaxed.

  The hug ended too soon. “Mom,” Cassidy said, “I hope you don’t mind, I asked Tatum to lunch. She didn’t get a chance to eat. Too busy taking care of Cupcake.”

  “Of course not.”

  Tatum smiled apologetically. “I hate imposing on your reunion.”

  “Nonsense. You’re like family.”

  For someone considered to be like family, Tatum looked ready to bolt. Ryder found that interesting. Then again, he found a lot of things about her interesting. Good thing that, as a Beckett employee, she was off-limits.

  With everyone pitching in, lunch was soon on the table. Liberty had inherited their father’s conversational abilities, and between the two of them, there were no more lulls.

  That was, until Cassidy said, “Tatum mentioned you two didn’t recognize each other.”

  “It’s true,” Ryder admitted.

  Tatum echoed his earlier remark. “It’s been a while. We’ve both changed.”

  “Do you forget all the women you kiss?” Cassidy asked, a teasing lilt to her voice. “Or just the first one?”

  “Kiss?” He had forgotten.

  In a rush, it all came back to him. The Valentine’s Day card. Tatum’s desperate look of hope. The casual peck on the cheek he’d given her.

  “I’d have bet money you wouldn’t remember,” Cassidy said.

  An undefinable emotion filled Tatum’s eyes before she averted her glance. Something told Ryder this had been some sort of test and that he’d failed it.

  Chapter Two

  It took a full five minutes for Tatum’s cheeks to cool. How could Cassidy embarrass her like that? They were best friends. Lifelong best friends.

  Worse than embarrassing her, Cassidy had intentionally used that long ago chaste kiss—Tatum had been just twelve and Ryder nearly fourteen—to deliver a dig to her brother. Tatum neither wanted to nor deserved to be dragged into any feud between the siblings.

  And, seriously, wasn’t it past time they let bygones be bygones? Mercer was sober. He and Sunny were working together running the arena and getting along. For the most part. Business was booming. Liberty had forgiven her mother’s duplicity and was making up for lost years with Mercer by spending time with him. Ryder had come home. Cassidy alone refused to let go of the past.

  Tatum’s anger continued to simmer all during the lunch. Cassidy should be glad her brother had returned. For her mother’s sake, if nothing else. Sunny had hated losing Ryder and longed for a reconciliation with him since the day he left to live with Mercer. As a mother herself, Tatum sympathized. She’d been separated only briefly from her children this past spring, yet it had been the worst four months of her life.

  Cassidy was also a mother,
though Benjie’s father had never been in the picture. Ever. She didn’t have to share her child with an ex or contend with a former, impossible to please, mother-in-law. Tatum sighed. Lucky Cassidy.

  “Dad, maybe after lunch you can take a look at Tatum’s pony.”

  Her head shot up at hearing Ryder speak her name.

  “What’s wrong with Cupcake?” Mercer asked, shoveling a large bite of chili into his mouth.

  Tatum swallowed before answering. “I, um, thought she might have foundered. Ryder says her limp’s due to a poorly fitted shoe.”

  “One way to find out is remove the shoe.”

  “He...already did that.” What was wrong with her? She couldn’t string a simple sentence together without tripping over her words.

  Her glance strayed to Ryder, the cause of her unease, though, why, she had no idea. He meant nothing to her, outside of being the recipient of her one-sided childhood crush. The kiss—peck, she corrected herself—while important to her, had meant little to him. She’d presented him with a homemade Valentine’s Day card that she’d labored over for days. He read it, then dipped his head and brushed her cheek with his lips. The next week, he’d left to live with Mercer in Kingman, dashing her fragile hopes and dreams.

  Over the years, the memory of her first crush changed, from painful to one she viewed with mild amusement and even fondness. Too bad Cassidy had to go and tarnish that for her.

  “Is the foot warm?” Mercer asked, still talking about Cupcake.

  “No,” Ryder replied before Tatum could.

  Not that she’d have known if the foot was warm or not. She hadn’t checked. Running into Ryder had distracted her.

  “Then she probably isn’t foundered.” Mercer scraped the last of the chili from his bowl. “Ryder has a good eye when it comes to horses.”

  “I’m sure she’ll be fine.” Tatum wished the conversation would shift from her to something else. Like Liberty and Deacon’s upcoming wedding.

  “Where is she?”

  “Cupcake? I moved her to the horse barn. In that empty stall next to the gray Percheron.”