Her Rodeo Man

by Cathy McDavid

  “Don’t need to.”

  “Ryder. I’d feel a whole lot better if you and Mercer both looked at it.”

  “I was there when we, when you, negotiated the contract with Lynda. I’m well aware of the terms.”

  That was true. “Still.”

  “Send it.” He promptly stood. “I have a meeting with Joe Blackwater. He’s on his way here.”

  The rodeo promoter was one of the Becketts’ oldest clients. He’d also been instrumental in helping to clear Deacon’s name when he was falsely accused of causing a bull goring accident eleven years ago.

  Tatum walked Ryder to the door. “See you later?”

  “Depends on how long Joe wants to shoot the breeze and when you leave to pick up the kids.”

  “I’ll call you after I talk to my mother-in-law.”

  “You’d better.”

  Hauling her into his arms, he planted a kiss on her mouth that sent a tingle clear to her toes.

  She swayed unsteadily when he released her. “Wow. What was that for?”

  “Putting those doubts of yours to rest.”

  His grin could be considered confident. Cocky, even. On him, it looked good.

  She stood at the window after he left and watched him saunter across the open area to meet Joe Blackwater.

  Ryder’s kiss hadn’t erased her doubts. Tatum was too practical for that. It had, however, lessened them. Ryder did have that effect on her.

  Should she be worried? Probably. Tatum could easily lose her head around him, as she’d proven more than once.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ryder and his father stopped at the Flat Iron for breakfast on their way to the arena. He shoveled his food into his mouth, only half listening to Mercer, his thoughts constantly straying to Tatum.

  They were going out tonight. On a date. To Tony’s Pizza Parlor for dinner, followed by dancing at the Hole in the Wall Saloon. Local spots where they were bound to be seen and recognized. Eventually, everyone would know they were dating, and Ryder had no problem with that.

  Being with her, getting to know her, looking into her eyes and hanging on her every word, that was the important part. If their good-night kiss turned into more and they had a repeat of the other night, who was he to object? If not, that was okay with him. Ryder intended to take this relationship seriously and to make the most of it.

  Her call to Ruth had netted some results. Monty phoned the kids, and, according to Tatum, they’d talked for a record-breaking thirty minutes. No plans, however, to visit. One step at a time, Ryder supposed.

  Only when his father mentioned the bulls did Ryder perk up and pay attention.

  “Mom finally caved?”

  “I prefer to say she appreciates a deal when it comes along. That and we made a good haul on the Wild West Days Rodeo. Better than expected. We’re going to the loan office today to sign the papers.”

  “Wow. That was fast.”

  “I told you, Harlo wasn’t going to wait forever. I’m lucky he waited as long as he did.” His father drained the last of his coffee. “If we want those bulls to pay for themselves, we’re going to have to promote the heck out of the arena. You’ll have your work cut out for you.”

  Ryder had planned to tell his family about Velocity Concept at the staff meeting this morning. Maybe it couldn’t wait.

  “Dad. I have some news.”

  “You’re not still thinking of leaving.” It wasn’t a question.

  “I’ve accepted a job at an ad agency in northwest Phoenix.”

  The explosion Ryder anticipated didn’t happen. Instead, his father calmly asked, “How soon?”

  “I told them I needed two weeks to wrap things up here before I could leave. That was yesterday.”

  There was a long, heavy pause. “Dammit, Ryder. Why?”

  “I told you from the start my coming back was only temporary.”

  “A few weeks isn’t temporary. It’s a vacation. We need you.”

  “Tatum can help. She’d make a great assistant to you.” He considered mentioning dating Tatum, then thought better of it.

  “She’s not family.”

  “Close enough.” Ryder pushed his empty plate away. He had a lot to accomplish before the staff meeting at eleven. “We should probably get going.”

  “We aren’t done talking about this. Just wait till your mother hears.”

  He was probably wasting his breath, but he tried anyway. “Dad. The decision’s made.”

  His father shook his head. “It was our dream to—”

  “Your dream. Not mine.”

  “Rodeoing’s in your blood.”

  “But not in my heart.”

  “I’ll give you a raise.”

  “Give Tatum the raise. She’s going to deserve it before long. You’ll see.”

  “Why do you keep pushing her?”

  “What do you have against her?”

  “She’s an art teacher, for crying out loud. She’ll quit us the first chance she gets.”

  Like me. His father didn’t have to say it.

  “She won’t quit if you give her a reason to stay.”

  “It didn’t work for you.”

  Ryder ignored the bite in his father’s voice. “Give it a rest, will you?”

  “Is this because you and your mother still aren’t getting along?”

  Would it make a difference if they were? “In all honesty, no.”

  “Don’t you think it’s time the two of you made up? The reasons for your anger at her aren’t valid anymore.”

  “She didn’t take you back, Dad. You had to wrangle your way in. To a business that was half yours to begin with. Forget the astronomical amount of money she owed you. Still owes you.”

  “I don’t care about the money.”

  Ryder didn’t let go. “If not for Liberty tracking you down, neither of us would be here. Just because we are doesn’t excuse what she did.”

  “What if I asked you to make peace with her? For me.”

  Saying no to his father had never been easy for Ryder. “I’ll think about it.”

  “That’s all I ask.” His father grabbed his key ring and wallet off the table. “I’ll get the tab.”

  At the arena, the two of them separated. While his father went to the office—it was his habit to tackle paperwork early—Ryder took his camcorder to the bull pens. Whenever he had a few spare minutes, he’d been taking footage and was almost ready to forward it to his friend for editing. Hopefully, the final digital short would be ready in time to promote their next rodeo. It would be something special to leave his family.

  He was almost done when his name was spoken softly behind him, in a way he hadn’t heard in years. Shutting off the camcorder, he turned and faced his mother. Honestly, he’d been half expecting her. News traveled quickly among his family. His father had probably gone straight to Sunny after their heated exchange.

  Ryder didn’t mince words. “I take it Dad told you about the job.”

  “He did.”

  “If you’re here to try and change my mind, don’t bother.”

  She didn’t so much as flinch at his harsh tone. “I understood why you left when you were a boy. You and Mercer were close as could be. Had the kind of father-son relationship every mother hopes for, and you missed him terribly. Blamed me for the divorce. I was certain after a few months, or maybe even a year, that you’d tire of your father’s drinking, miss me and Cassidy, your friends, and come home. Only you didn’t. Other than those few summers during high school.” She searched his face, her expression pensive. “Why, Ryder?”

  “I might have. If you’d have shown even the slightest decency to Dad. He did stop drinking. Right after I moved in with him.”

  “Yes, bu
t there were no guarantees he wouldn’t start again, and I couldn’t take the chance. I loved him too much.”

  “Loved him? You had a funny way of showing it.”

  “I knew as long as he and I remained married, he wouldn’t change. In large part because I enabled him. I thought, hoped, that by divorcing him, the shock would force him to get sober. Maybe even before we actually went through with it. Losing me sobered him up once before.”

  “What do you mean, before?”

  “Your father was a wild one when we first dated. I thought he just liked to party with the boys and drink too much. I might have been young and inexperienced, but, after a while, even I could see that he had a drinking problem. I insisted he stop or we were through.”

  “And he did?”

  “Didn’t touch a single drop.” Her eyes filled with sadness. “Then, he started again at your grandfather’s wake and, this time, didn’t stop. Nothing I said or did made a difference. Eventually, alcohol replaced everything important in his life. His job, his family, his friends. Me.”

  “I’m sorry, Mom, but I just don’t remember any of that.”

  “Oh, he was an expert at hiding it from you and Cassidy. When you two were anywhere near, he was the epitome of a fun and happy dad, even if he was tanked. When you weren’t, he became bitter and morose and angry. Really angry. The fights were the worst.”

  “With you?”

  “With everyone. Sometimes, it was like a switch was flipped. One minute, he was laughing and joking. The next, he was accusing whomever of some invented infraction that generally resulted in a brawl. Three times in three months I was called to the clinic when he was hurt. Twice, I had to bail him out of jail.”

  Jail? Ryder hadn’t heard these stories before. “Did he ever hurt you?”

  “Not physically,” she assured him. “Not ever.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “I didn’t want you to know. Or your sister.”

  “I might have been able to help.”

  “I doubt that.” She gave him a sad smile. “There were nights he didn’t come home, and I’m not kidding when I tell you I was glad for the reprieve. I had my hands full as it was, taking care of you kids and running the arena. I didn’t need a drunk to nurse on top of that.”

  “Did you ever try to get him help? AA. Counseling.”

  “Countless times. That’s the thing about an addict, no one can help them if they won’t help themselves. All I could do was try my best to keep the business from going under and to provide for the family.”

  Ryder realized with more than a little guilt that he hadn’t ever considered how hard it must have been for his mother. Hadn’t cared enough to ask. He’d been too busy being angry at her.

  “I might have stuck it out a whole lot longer, even when he lost all that money on a herd of sick calves.” Her voice shook. “It was the accident with Cassidy that convinced me he had to leave. I couldn’t forgive him for that. Or take the chance that something worse might happen the next time. My children came first. Even at the expense of my husband and marriage. I know that’s difficult for you to comprehend.”

  “Not as much as you’d think.”

  Before coming home to Reckless, Ryder wouldn’t have given his mother’s argument much weight. Meeting Tatum, seeing her relentless devotion to her children, had altered his perspective. Like his mother, she’d endured hardship and sacrificed greatly for the sake of her kids. Also like his mother, she was dealing with a daughter who sorely missed her father and didn’t understand why he had to go away.

  If Ryder could be understanding and sympathetic to her, could he not grant his mother some of the same understanding and sympathy? It was something to consider.

  “You free later?” He held up the camcorder. “I’ll be done here in about fifteen minutes.”

  She hesitated, perhaps unsure why he was asking. “I have to run to the bank before the staff meeting.”

  “Later, then? I’d like to continue this conversation.” A delighted smile illuminated her face. “I’d like that, too.”

  “We still have a lot of ground to cover, Mom.”

  “One step at a time, sweetheart.”

  He gave her a one-armed hug that was filled with far more emotion than the full embrace they’d shared his first day home.

  She reached up to pat his cheek. “I can’t help myself,” she said by way of apology.

  “I don’t mind.” And he didn’t.

  “See you.” She left, a spring to her step he hadn’t seen before today. Ryder chuckled. They hadn’t mended all their broken bridges, but they’d made a start. And it felt good.

  He was just finishing filming when his cell phone chimed. He read the display and groaned. His father? Really? The man couldn’t walk out and find him?

  “What’s up, Dad?”

  “I need to see you right away. I’m in the office.”

  The curt demand rubbed Ryder the wrong way. He felt six rather than thirty-six. “I’ll be done in about fifteen minutes.”

  “Now, Ryder. It’s important. You need to see this.”

  “All right. Fine.” He powered down the camcorder and returned it to the case.

  Tatum was sitting at her desk when he entered. He’d have liked to give her a kiss, but that would be entirely inappropriate, and he’d had enough trouble in the past with something far less provocative than a kiss.

  “Morning.” He flashed her a smile as he passed her desk.

  “Hey.” The smile she gave him in return was ripe with promise for the coming evening.

  Ryder suppressed a groan. Surviving the long day wasn’t going to be easy. He’d be counting the minutes until he picked her up tonight.

  “Shut the door,” his father said upon seeing him, his tone brusque.

  Ryder drew up short. “What’s wrong?”

  “Now.”

  He did as his father insisted, his defenses rising.

  “Sit.” When Ryder complied, his father handed him a thin sheaf of papers.

  He scanned the first page of the contract for Lynda Spencer. “Yeah?” He started to hand the papers back.

  “Dammit to hell, Ryder.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “How could you agree to these terms?”

  “They’re good.”

  “They’re ridiculous.”

  Ryder flipped to the second page where the terms were outlined and read. “Wait,” he muttered. “These aren’t right.”

  “You can say that again.”

  “There must be a mistake.” He saw it then, a transposition—numbers reversed—and his blood ran cold.

  “You said Tatum handled the meeting and negotiated the terms.”

  “She did, but this isn’t what we agreed to.”

  “I spoke to Lynda Spencer before I called you. Frankly, she’s pretty happy, which is why she signed the contract and returned it so fast.”

  “She can’t expect us to uphold these terms.”

  “It’s a done deal.”

  “We’ll go back to her−”

  “Forget it. That’s not how your mother and I do business. We have a reputation to uphold, and honor our contracts even when we’ve screwed up.”

  “I understand that, Dad.”

  “We can’t have an employee working for us who makes mistakes that cost us thousands of dollars.”

  “You’re not firing Tatum.”

  “She sure isn’t getting any promotion.”

  “This is my fault entirely. She asked me to review the contract. Even handed it to me, in fact. I signed it without looking and instructed her to send it.”

  His father stared at him as if he’d just announced his intentions to run for president. “What in God’s name is the matte
r with you? You let a complete novice negotiate a contract with an important new client and then send it out unreviewed. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. How did you ever make it to head marketing executive?”

  The verbal lashing was harsh. And deserved.

  Ryder’s head pounded. He’d been here before. Not with his father but in a meeting at Madison-Monroe. Then, his boss had asked almost the identical question. Ryder hadn’t had a good answer that time, either.

  Blurring the boundary between business and personal. Hadn’t he learned his lesson already?

  “I’ll call Lynda,” Ryder said. “Explain the situation. Make it right.”

  “Weren’t you listening? This contract is signed by both parties. Legal and binding. We are officially screwed.”

  “Take the money out of my salary.”

  His father continued as if he hadn’t heard Ryder. “There go the funds for transporting the new bulls.”

  “I’ll run by the bank in town and withdraw the money now.” He could borrow against his credit card.

  “Don’t you think instead you should stay here and clean up this mess?”

  “I said I’ll pay you back.”

  “I don’t want your money.”

  “No, you just want to control me. Use what happened to strong-arm me into staying.” It was the same tactic his father had employed on Liberty, Cassidy and their mother. They’d resisted. And despite being in the wrong, Ryder was resisting, too.

  “You’re missing the point,” his father said. “You have an obligation to your family.”

  “I have an obligation to rectify my wrongs. And I will. But I’m still taking that job, Dad.” He stood. “And leaving Reckless.”

  His father’s features darkened. “Send Tatum in on your way out.”

  “You aren’t talking to her without Mom present.”

  “I’m her boss.”

  “You’re angry at me. Don’t take it out on her.”

  “I’m just going to talk to her.”

  “It was a typo. One I should have caught when I reviewed the contract—which I didn’t. She followed instructions.”

  “A typo, as you call it, is a careless oversight. She should have double-checked her work before giving it to you.”