Her Rodeo Man

by Cathy McDavid

  Tatum felt her cheeks flame. As a member of the Beckett family, Ryder had access to payroll information and probably knew her weekly wage. In addition, he and his parents had met several times during the past week to discuss the monthly finances and income projections.

  “There are also the benefits to consider,” she said. “Retirement. Health insurance. Paid holidays. Your family does the best they can,” she quickly amended. “Don’t get me wrong.”

  “I understand. Believe me.”

  She hadn’t stopped to consider until now that he’d probably given up a lot of benefits, too, when he quit his marketing job. Not for the first time, she questioned why he’d left such a good position.

  “I realize the school may not rehire me, but I can’t help hoping.” And praying, she silently added.

  “What if you were to be promoted at the Easy Money? You’d get a raise.”

  “Promoted.” She suppressed a laugh. “To what? Sunny is the only other person in the office, and I don’t think she’s going anywhere.”

  “You could take on more of the marketing and promotion responsibilities.”

  “That’s your job.”

  “For the time being.” He shrugged. “Who knows what the future holds?”

  His careless tone gave her pause. “Are you thinking of leaving the Easy Money?”

  “Sooner or later.”

  It wasn’t her place to ask, but she did anyway. “Have you told your family?”

  “They know I’m not planning to stay indefinitely.”

  And they probably didn’t like it. Mercer especially. According to Cassidy, Ryder and his mother argued last night. Was that what he meant by “sooner?”

  As usual, the Becketts weren’t getting along. Nothing cut a visit short like a family feud.

  At Cascade’s, they perused the many selections. Ryder took a long time deciding. Tatum always had the same thing. A single scoop of fat-free vanilla frozen yogurt. She was definitely a creature of habit.

  Then again, she’d broken routine several times this past week. Wearing nice clothes to work. Relying on Ryder’s help with Drew’s emergency-room visit. Leaving the art studio during her break. Letting him kiss her. Kissing him back.

  “What’ll you have?” the fresh-faced teenaged clerk asked when the customers ahead of them moved on.

  The boys wanted double scoops with two different flavors of ice cream, lots of syrup and sprinkles. Tatum grimaced just thinking about it.

  When they were done, Ryder gestured, indicating she should order ahead of him. The words issuing from her mouth surprised her. “A double scoop of chocolate brownie fudge.”

  “Cone or dish?” the teen asked.

  Tatum hesitated. The calories would go straight to her hips and live there forever.

  “Don’t hold back now,” Ryder urged, a twinkle lighting his eyes.

  “Cone.”

  “I’ll have the same. And make it those waffle cones dipped in chocolate.”

  She would surely regret this. “They’ll have to roll us out of here.”

  “What’s the point of having ice cream if you don’t make a pig of yourself?”

  Funny, Tatum couldn’t agree more. She might have had her last fat-free frozen yogurt.

  The boys were in high spirits. They acted up twice, causing enough of a commotion for customers’ heads to swivel in their direction. Tatum cautioned them the first time, using her no-nonsense teacher voice. The boys promptly behaved. For two minutes. A second warning yielded no results.

  “That’s enough, you two,” Ryder scolded.

  They immediately quieted. Then, giggling, continued to lick their dripping ice cream. For the moment, peace ensued.

  “I’m impressed,” Tatum said.

  “I’m louder than you.”

  She wasn’t sure about that. Ryder had a way with children. Not just playing with them and being their pal. They also respected him and listened to him.

  His former marriage may have been years ago and ended unhappily, but parenting his ex’s two daughters, even for a short time, had taught him a lot and allowed his natural tendencies to flourish.

  All at once, his cell phone rang. He removed the phone from his pocket and studied the screen, his brows drawing together. Naturally, her curiosity was piqued.

  After a moment, he said, “Excuse me,” and answered the call.

  “No problem.” She waved off his concern, then promptly strained to hear his side of the conversation over the din.

  “Hi, Myra. Don’t tell me, you’re working on a Saturday. No, I’m not busy. It’s all right.” Each sentence was separated by a pause. “Really. Huh. Just a second.” He rose from the table and said to Tatum, “Be right back,” before stepping away.

  Now, her curiosity was more than piqued. It was fired.

  “Absolutely.” Ryder started for the door, only to be cut off and delayed by a large group of high school students entering the parlor. “I can make it. Nine a.m. sharp. Yeah, I have heard of them. Right. What’s the starting salary?”

  Starting salary?

  “How soon are they looking for someone?” Ryder continued.

  Looking for someone? He was talking to this Myra person about a job. He wasn’t wasting a moment.

  Tatum suffered a sudden emptiness inside.

  Finally, Ryder was able to move on and step outside. A few minutes later, he ended the phone call and returned to their table. Even if she hadn’t overheard part of his conversation, she’d have guessed that something was up by his guilty expression.

  “Sorry about that,” he said.

  Right. She was the one sorry. His family would be devastated. And, she couldn’t tell them. Not without admitting she’d eavesdropped.

  “It’s all right.” She grabbed some napkins from the dispenser and started cleaning up the boys’ mess. “We should go. My break is about over.”

  Drew’s “Aw, Mom,” was followed by Benjie’s “Do we have to?”

  “Class starts in five minutes.” Tatum was rarely late.

  She and Ryder spoke little on the way back.

  At the door, they paused. “Looks like the horse’s owner came and got him,” Ryder said.

  Tatum had forgotten all about the runaway.

  “Thought for a minute I was going to have to call animal control.”

  Another pause ensued.

  “Thanks for the ice cream,” she said. Somehow the thrill of her decadent treat had worn off.

  “I’d like to see you later.”

  Her heart gave a little trill. Was he asking her out? She instantly tamped down the feeling. With an upcoming job interview, probably the first of several, he wouldn’t be here much longer.

  “To talk,” he said.

  Oh. About the call she’d overheard. “It isn’t necessary.”

  “Tatum.” He reached for her, his hand settling on her waist.

  She raised her gaze to his, and her breath caught. He was close enough to...

  “Mom!”

  At the sound of Gretchen’s voice, Tatum spun. There stood her mother-in-law with a sour look on her face, a flailing Adam in her arms, Gretchen at her side.

  Just when Tatum thought things couldn’t get worse, Adam yelled, “Daddy, Daddy.”

  Like that, the look on her mother-in-law’s face went from sour to infuriated.

  Chapter Eight

  Ryder bent over Tatum’s desk, his hands braced on the edge. She wasn’t escaping this time. “You’ve been avoiding me all week.”

  “That’s not true.” She refused to look at him and instead busied herself with a stack of envelopes. “It’s only Thursday.”

  He glanced at the partially open door leading to his mother’s office, which was, f
ortunately, empty. He and Tatum were alone.

  “Is it because Adam called me Daddy again?”

  She visibly tensed.

  “What did she say?” Ryder didn’t specify who. Tatum knew he referred to her former mother-in-law.

  “Nothing.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Excuse me.” She pushed back from her desk, the wheels on her chair squeaking. “I have to get to the mailbox before noon.”

  “Tatum, I’m sorry.”

  She closed her eyes and sighed wistfully. “It’s not your fault.”

  “No, it’s Monty’s fault. If he visited more often, his son wouldn’t be calling me Daddy. The guy’s a piece of work if you ask me.”

  “Adam’s just two. He’s easily confused.”

  “My point exactly.” Ryder straightened. “What’s with Monty, anyway? Even when my father was a drunk, he always loved his children and spent time with us.”

  “He wanted you and your sister and would have wanted Liberty if your mother had been honest with him. Monty wasn’t ready for a family.”

  “That’s no excuse,” he said.

  “I need to be careful. Not give Ruth any more ammunition to use against me.”

  “Ammunition? What? You’re not allowed to date? I’m no attorney, but I’m pretty sure Monty and Ruth can’t take your kids away from you because you have a boyfriend.”

  “You’re not my boyfriend,” Tatum said hotly.

  Okay, he deserved that. He’d led her on not once but twice.

  “You’re legitimately worried about your mother-in-law interfering in your life. I didn’t mean to make light of it. But Monty’s the one she should be mad at for his complete lack of parental involvement.”

  “I don’t disagree.” Tatum’s shoulders slumped, her bluster waning. “That’s not the reason I’ve been avoiding you.”

  “So, you admit it, then.”

  She looked around as if concerned they were being overheard. “You put me in an awkward position. How am I supposed to stand by and say nothing to your family while you’re out there looking for a new job?”

  “I apologize again. I shouldn’t have talked to that headhunter in front of you.”

  Grabbing the envelopes, she huffed in frustration and stood.

  “What?”

  “Honestly, Ryder, you are really dense sometimes.”

  He’d have laughed if she wasn’t so serious. “You’ll get no argument from me.”

  “I’m not the one you should be talking to about this.” She started for the door. “Grab the phone if it rings, will you? I’m going to the mailbox.”

  “All right.” He hated that she was right. “I’ll do it.”

  She paused, her hand on the doorknob. “Do what?”

  “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

  Her eyes narrowed, and she shifted her weight. Ryder had a pretty good idea what it felt like to be a student in her class who’d been caught breaking the rules.

  “I’ll tell my family I’m actively looking for a new job,” he stated flatly.

  Tatum’s hand fell away from the door. “I feel sorry for them.”

  “Don’t waste your energies just yet.”

  “Interview the other day not go well?”

  He could lie but didn’t. “The company wasn’t as good a fit as I first thought.”

  “Oh, well.” At least she didn’t look smug.

  “I want you to come with me.”

  “Where?”

  “I have a meeting with Marshall Whitmen in thirty minutes at the Flat Iron for lunch.”

  “The head of the Scottsdale Parada del Sol Rodeo?”

  “One and the same.”

  That got a reaction from her. The Parada del Sol was one of Arizona’s most prestigious and popular rodeos. Ryder’s family had been trying to land the account for years.

  “How did that...who set up the meeting?” she asked.

  “My father has connections. He heard the bucking stock contractor supplying the horses has pulled out. The distemper virus going around has infected his entire herd.”

  “That’s terrible. But the rodeo is months away. Won’t the horses recover by then?”

  “Marshall doesn’t want to take any chances the bucking stock won’t be in top form.”

  “What possible help can I be at the meeting?”

  “It would be a great opportunity for you to see how the negotiations work firsthand.”

  “Your father and his connections are what got the meeting. He should go with you.”

  “One of the bulls is acting sick. He’s meeting the veterinarian at noon.”

  Tatum accepted that answer without question. Like everyone at the arena, she was well aware of his father’s devotion to the bulls and belief they were the future of the Easy Money.

  “Come with me, Tatum,” Ryder repeated.

  “Because you want someone to take over the marketing and promotion part of your job when you leave.”

  “Because it will give you the chance to grow your present job skills and increase your earning potential.”

  “In case the school doesn’t hire me back.”

  “Consider it hedging your bets.”

  After a lingering hesitation, she smiled. A small, soft one that sent Ryder’s pulse soaring. Proof positive she could affect him like none other. He’d promised her he wouldn’t compromise her again with touching and kissing. It might be a promise impossible to keep.

  She shook her head. “I can’t leave the office unattended.”

  “Let’s call my sisters. One of them should be free.”

  “It’s their lunch hour. And they have classes later.”

  “You’re fabricating excuses.”

  “Not exactly—”

  The office door abruptly opened and Ryder’s mother entered. She took one look at Tatum and Ryder, then stopped in her tracks. “What’s going on?”

  “Ryder’s...” Tatum faltered.

  “I’m trying to convince her to come with me to meet with Marshall Whitmen.” He waited for his mother’s objection, only she surprised him.

  “I think that’s a great idea!”

  “The phones,” Tatum objected.

  “I’ll watch them.”

  Ryder allowed himself a huge grin. Round one had gone to him.

  * * *

  “YOUR MOTHER HAS an ulterior motive.” Tatum sent Ryder an arch look.

  “Do tell.”

  The Flat Iron Restaurant was ten minutes from the arena. Ryder had stretched the drive into fifteen—on purpose, she was convinced. Mostly, he’d talked about Marshall Whitmen and his take on how the meeting would progress. Now that they were nearing the restaurant, she had only a minute at most to speak her mind.

  “She’s matchmaking.”

  “You think?” he teased.

  “Be serious, Ryder.”

  “Why would she?”

  “She saw us kissing the other night.”

  He took his time responding. “She told you?”

  For a moment, Tatum relived that embarrassing moment. “It’s no fun chitchatting with your boss about kissing her son.”

  “Sorry. I asked her not to.”

  “You knew she saw us and didn’t tell me?” Tatum ground her teeth together in frustration. “A little warning would have been nice.”

  “She’s making something out of nothing.”

  His observation, delivered nonchalantly, shouldn’t have bothered Tatum. She, as much as he, had put the brakes on any potential romance between them. Yet, she was bothered.

  “Don’t you get it?” Tatum had accused Ryder of being dense earlier, partially in jest. Now, she w
as less sure. “Your mother is willing to orchestrate a romance between us if it encourages you to stay.”

  “What if she is? What’s the harm? Nothing will come of it.”

  That word again. Nothing.

  Tatum silently fumed. Her anger didn’t last, and she put on her best smile. Ryder’s reminder that they had no future together was no reason to ruin this very important meeting.

  He opened the front door of the restaurant for her, and she preceded him inside. All around them, the restaurant clanked, clattered and bustled with activity. Delicious aromas filled the air. A chalkboard on the wall advertised the day’s specials.

  Ryder hitched his chin in the direction of a booth. “Marshall’s already here.”

  At his possessive and unexpected grip on her arm, she drew in a sharp breath. Before she could speak, he propelled her ahead of him, his fingers gliding along the inside of her forearm before he released her.

  “This way.”

  She blinked, momentarily disoriented by the delicious sensation his touch evoked.

  Marshall Whitmen tossed down his napkin and rose at their approach. He must have been quite early for he’d already ordered an iced tea. His welcoming smile assured Tatum that he didn’t object to her presence.

  “Good day, Ryder.” He tipped his cowboy hat at her. “And who’s your lovely companion?”

  Hands were shaken. Marshall’s grip on hers was strong and that of a man thirty years younger. With his white hair and matching white beard, he could have passed for Colonel Sanders’s brother.

  “This is Tatum Mayweather,” Ryder said. “She’s the arena’s office manager and has been showing me the ropes. I hope you don’t mind that she came along.”

  A blatant exaggeration. If anything, the complete opposite was true. Ryder was showing her the ropes. But she followed his lead, understanding without being told that these types of meetings were a game with established plays.

  “Not at all.” Marshall’s tone dripped honey. “A lovely woman enhances any meal. Even better when she’s smart and talented.”

  Oh, he was a charmer all right. Smooth as silk. Nonetheless, Tatum felt herself soften. “I’ve admired your work with the Parada del Sol for years,” she said. “You have a stellar reputation.” He was also well-liked and considered to be fair and honest.