The Bull Rider's Son

by Cathy McDavid

  God, it was here. The day she’d been dreading and avoiding for over six years. She resisted the urge to flee to her SUV and drive far, far away. That wouldn’t solve anything. But, oh, how she wished differently.

  “Here.” Shane handed her the phone.

  The device felt heavy in her palm. She almost couldn’t lift it to her ear. At the sound of ringing on the line, everything and everyone faded into the background, and she was left alone, standing on the edge of a steep cliff.

  More ringing. Maybe she’d catch a break and Hoyt wouldn’t answer. Then what? Should she hang up and call back later? Leave a message? God, what would she say?

  The choice was taken from her when the call connected, and life as she knew it, the world she’d carefully constructed for herself and Benjie, entirely and irrevocably changed.

  “Hello. This is Hoyt Westcott.”

  Cassidy couldn’t speak. Her mouth, it seemed, had gone completely dry. Her lips refused to work properly. Her mind had emptied all coherent thought.

  “Ah...ah...”

  She couldn’t do it. Regardless of what her attorney said, she’d wait until next week when she was more prepared. Next month. Next—

  Shane whipped the phone away from her. “Hoyt,” he said, “it’s me.” There was a pause. “Yeah, well, I’m calling you from Cassidy’s phone.” The next pause seemed to go on forever. At the same time, it was over much too soon. “She has something to tell you.”

  And, again, the incredibly heavy device was placed in her hands and pressed to her ear. How could that have happened without her remembering?

  “H-Hoyt. How are you?”

  “I’m good. How ’bout yourself?”

  He sounded the same, if a little hesitant. Then again, what had she expected? Passing years and being married would change his voice?

  A small glimmer of hope sparked inside her. He’d always been easygoing and jovial. If he was still the same, then maybe he’d be reasonable and cooperative about Benjie. Not mad as hell and determined to get back at her for lying.

  Cassidy went numb all over. Please, she silently prayed, don’t make this hard.

  Aloud, she said, “Um, I’m all right. Is this a good time to talk?” Maybe he would say no.

  “It’s great. We just got back from taking Cheryl to the doctor. She’s resting now.”

  “Is she all right?”

  “Fine. A routine exam. We’re hoping for a big family,” he added haltingly.

  “Oh. Yes.” How could she have forgotten?

  What if Cheryl didn’t conceive and the fertility treatments failed? How would that affect custody of Benjie? Because of the distance, Cassidy’s attorney had recommended allowing Hoyt to visit frequently. But, for the time being, he only take Benjie to Jackson Hole twice a year: four weeks over the summer and either Thanksgiving or Christmas.

  Cassidy considered that doable, though the idea of Benjie being away for nearly half the summer left her with an empty ache in her heart. She simply couldn’t live with him being gone any longer.

  “I don’t want to disturb you,” she told Hoyt. “I’ll call back next week.”

  Across the table, Shane gave her a look. “It won’t be any better next week,” he said in a low voice. “And it might be worse.”

  At first, she was angry. Who was he to tell her what to do? Then she realized the remark was meant to be encouraging. And, much as she hated to admit it, he was right. There was no going back now. She must tell Hoyt. Better to get it over with.

  “This is as good a time as any,” Hoyt insisted, closely echoing Shane’s earlier comment. “What’s up?”

  “There’s something I need to tell you. Haven’t told you,” she amended, still stalling.

  He waited. And waited. “Cassidy?”

  “When we broke up... I was...” Breathe. Breathe. It’s going to be okay. “I was pregnant.”

  “You were?” He sounded startled. And confused. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t know it. Not for a few weeks.”

  His voice grew increasingly strained. “What happened? To the baby?”

  “I had a son. His name is Benjamin. Benjie, for short.”

  “A son.” Dead silence followed.

  Cassidy spoke in a rush to fill it. “He’s six. Just had a birthday. That’s how Shane figured it out.”

  Hoyt went from sounding startled and confused to accusatory. “Is that why you’re telling me now? Because Shane got wise?”

  Technically, she was telling him because her attorney had recommended it. Better not to mention legal representation just yet. That could create a problem where there wasn’t any.

  “I was planning on telling you. Shane’s discovery did speed things up.”

  “Planning on it? The kid is six years old.”

  Here came the anger Cassidy had been anticipating and fearing.

  She glanced at Shane. Like that day in the trailer, right before they kissed, he reached across the table and took her free hand in his. His kind smile said she could do this. He was with her every step of the way, and she could depend on him.

  Returning her attention to the phone, she continued, “What matters is I’m telling you now.”

  “Sorry,” Hoyt said. “I don’t buy that. You don’t do anything without a reason.”

  “All right. I’m telling you because I’m backed into a corner.” More silence. Was she wrong to have been completely honest? “Hoyt?”

  “This is a lot to assimilate,” he finally said. “I need a minute.”

  “Take your time.”

  “Why not tell me before?” he repeated, with less animosity this time.

  She supplied him with a boiled-down version.

  “I was scared. Of a lot of things. Mostly, I thought you’d pressure me into marrying you, and I wasn’t ready for that. Later, I changed my mind. I flew to Topeka to tell you and learned you and Cheryl were getting married. It didn’t seem like the right time to spring the news on you that I was eight months pregnant.”

  “I’d have taken care of you and our son.”

  Our son. She always referred to Benjie as her son.

  A very large, very painful lump formed in Cassidy’s throat. Dammit. She didn’t want to get emotional. If she wasn’t careful, she’d fall apart, and she desperately needed to remain in control. Hoyt’s next words, however, snapped her tenuous hold in two.

  “I want to see him. Soon.”

  The attorney’s advice resounded in Cassidy’s head, warning her not to refuse any reasonable requests. Pick your battles, she’d said. Compromise on the small stuff. Stand strong only on the big stuff.

  “All right. We can arrange a visit. Benjie has Monday off school next week—”

  “Tomorrow.”

  Air rushed out of her lungs. “No. Impossible!”

  “You’ve kept him from me for six years. I won’t wait, Cassidy.”

  The threat was subtle but there. Would a judge say, because she’d hidden Benjie from him for six years, Hoyt could have him for the next six?

  She refused to let him steamroll her. Back when they were dating, Hoyt had believed he could win every argument simply with a show of force. That, along with his immaturity, had caused their relationship to deteriorate.

  “Next weekend,” she insisted. “You can come out Friday morning and spend the long weekend in Reckless. That’ll give me time to tell him about you and that you’re coming for a visit. Also give you time to tell Cheryl about him.”

  “He doesn’t know about me?”

  “No.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  His earlier anger had returned. She had to proceed cautiously. “His father was a cowboy I had dated and cared about greatly, but things didn’t work out.
”

  “A father who didn’t want him?”

  “It’s not like that, Hoyt.” She tried to keep the strain from her voice. Shane squeezing her fingers helped calm her and keep her focused. “I told him when he was ready, he could meet you.”

  She didn’t add that, thus far, Benjie hadn’t shown interest in meeting his father. Hurting Hoyt’s feelings wouldn’t gain her anything. Besides, it was unkind.

  “What does he like? To play with, I mean.” The change in Hoyt’s tone was abrupt. “I want to bring him something.”

  “Well, recently, he’s gotten into baseball.” She looked at Shane, who responded with a nod.

  “A glove?” Hoyt suggested.

  “He has one already.”

  “A bat, then.”

  Why hadn’t she suggested something else? “Lately, he’s been building model cars and planes. The simpler ones.”

  “I did, too, when I was his age.”

  She could hear the smile in Hoyt’s voice. It tore at her heart much more than she would have expected and gave her pause.

  Hoyt wasn’t the enemy. She’d been wrong to label him that way for all these years. He’d been young and made a stupid mistake, insisting she come with him when he’d been drinking. That wasn’t reason enough to hide his son from him. Nor was the possibility of ruining his upcoming marriage. It was an excuse Cassidy had latched onto rather than face the real reason.

  No maybe about it. Her mother had hit the nail on the head when she’d said Cassidy’s refusal to tell Hoyt was connected to her unresolved issues with her father.

  Did everything have to keep going back to her parents and their divorce? How could one event impact so many people and completely change the course of their lives? Cassidy was tired of coping with the aftereffects.

  Collecting herself, she said, “Why don’t you call me back when you’ve worked out the details of your trip? Then we can make plans.” And Cassidy could arrange another appointment with her attorney. Just to get more of those concerns laid to rest.

  “Can you email me some pictures of him?”

  Cassidy blinked, taken aback, though she shouldn’t have been. “Of course.”

  “Shane has my email address.”

  She might have said goodbye, she couldn’t be sure. The last seconds of the phone call had become a blur. Tears filled her eyes and she laid the phone down on the table.

  “You did good.” Shane hadn’t moved. He continued to sit across from her, his hand squeezing hers.

  Cassidy had occasionally imagined telling Hoyt about Benjie. In none of those versions was Shane there, comforting and consoling her. She liked reality better. He was making this difficult day a tiny bit more bearable.

  “If you want, I can help you tell Benjie.”

  She wiped at her cheeks. Already, her tears were drying. “I do.”

  Possibly, she was making a huge mistake by allowing Shane to get closer. Then again, he might be the one person she needed most to survive the weeks ahead.

  Chapter Nine

  Benjie wriggled and tugged at the collar of the shirt Cassidy was attempting to button up.

  “Please, sweetie,” she coaxed. “Settle down.”

  “I don’t like the shirt.”

  “But you picked it out.” Wanting him to look his best for this first meeting with Hoyt, she’d driven him into Globe yesterday specifically to buy him a new outfit. Benjie had chosen a pair of Wranglers—go figure—and a Western-cut shirt that looked a lot like the ones his uncle Shane wore. Cassidy didn’t think it was a coincidence.

  “This is itchy,” he complained and tugged again on the collar.

  She doubted that. More likely, her son was nervous. They both were. Cassidy had been in a constant state of agitation since her conversation with Hoyt—which intensified a few days ago when he called to advise her of his travel plans.

  Telling Benjie that his father and his father’s wife were coming to meet him had gone surprisingly well. Since his birthday, and especially since meeting Shane and Bria, Benjie had been fixated on the idea of a father. All of a sudden he had one, and he couldn’t be more excited.

  All week he’d pestered Cassidy with questions. What was his father’s name? Where did he live? What was he like? Was he a champion bull rider like Uncle Shane? Did he look like Uncle Shane? Did he play baseball like Uncle Shane?

  Sometimes, Cassidy thought he was more excited about Shane being his uncle than Hoyt being his father.

  Then, yesterday, the questions began to change, as did Benjie’s mood. He became untypically reserved and quiet.

  “What if he doesn’t like me?” he asked her again.

  Cassidy bent and fed his belt through the loops on his jeans. “He likes you already and can’t wait to meet you.”

  “Do I have to go see him in Wyoming?”

  She had tried to explain the possible visitation schedule and now regretted it. “Jackson Hole is nice. Very different from Arizona.”

  “But what if I hate it there? I won’t know anybody.”

  “Nothing’s been decided yet.” She gave Benjie a hug before straightening.

  “What do I call my stepmom?”

  She’d also tried to explain the whole stepfamily concept. It was a lot for a six-year-old to comprehend.

  “She and your father will tell you when they get here.”

  Cheryl. Cassidy had been pondering her a lot lately. Was she friendly and personable? Patient and even tempered? Would she resent Benjie because of her own difficulty conceiving? Worse, what if he liked her? Would Cassidy be jealous?

  Benjie crossed his arms and stuck out his lower lip. “I don’t want him to take me away like Grandpa took Uncle Ryder away.”

  “Oh, sweetie.” She smoothed his hair, then kissed the top of his head. She should have been more careful and not let him overhear her conversations with her family. “Grandpa didn’t take Uncle Ryder away. It wasn’t like that.”

  “But Uncle Ryder left.”

  “Because he wanted to.”

  “Well, I don’t want to leave.” The lip extended farther.

  “Then you don’t have to.”

  They finished dressing soon after that, and Cassidy told Benjie he could watch TV while they waited. She’d purposely gotten him ready early in order to give herself plenty of time to shower and change before Hoyt and Cheryl’s arrival.

  She was just buttoning up her own shirt when a soft knock sounded on her bedroom door.

  “It’s me,” came her mother’s voice from the other side.

  “Come on in.”

  “How are you holding up?”

  “Not bad, I guess.”

  “Tell me the truth.” Her mother perched on the edge of Cassidy’s bed. “You’re white as snow.”

  “Am I?” She caught a glimpse of herself in the dresser mirror. Good grief, she was pale. “It’s been a tough week.”

  “I’m proud of you, honey. What you’re doing takes courage.”

  People, including Shane, kept telling her that. Cassidy didn’t feel courageous. She felt scared out of her wits.

  “I can’t lose him, Mom.”

  “You won’t.”

  “But what about Ryder? He left.” The assurances she’d given Benjie were all for show. Deep down, she dreaded the possibility.

  “It’s not the same. Benjie doesn’t resent you.”

  “He might. When he’s older, he could figure out I prevented him from seeing his father for the first six years of his life and resent the heck out of me. Hoyt could poison his thinking. Cheryl could be the wonderful, fun stepmother who overindulges him while I’m the mom who makes him do his homework and clean his room.”

  “You’re letting yourself get carried away. For all you know, Be
njie and Hoyt won’t get along.”

  “That’s not what I want.”

  “Of course you don’t. My point is, we can’t foresee the future. The best we can do is take each day as it comes.”

  Cassidy plunked down on the bed beside her mother, who put a comforting arm around her shoulders.

  “We’re here for you if you need us.”

  We, Cassidy surmised, meant her mother and father. “You and dad are getting pretty cozy lately.”

  Her mother gave Cassidy a squeeze before releasing her. “I won’t deny it.”

  “You didn’t come home last night.”

  “I’m a grown woman.” There was a cheerfulness in her mother’s voice Cassidy had been hearing more often lately.

  “If you’re happy, then I’m happy.”

  “I am. More than I thought possible.”

  “What if he regresses? Alcoholism doesn’t go away.”

  “I doubt he’ll regress. He hasn’t touched a drop for over twenty years.”

  “You’ve made quite a turnaround. When Dad first returned to Reckless, you fought him tooth and nail at every step.”

  “Things are different. You children are grown, for one.”

  “Yeah, but you have a young grandson living here. Let’s just say, for the sake of argument, that Dad—”

  Her mother cut her off. “Take every day as it comes, remember?”

  It was a bad habit of hers, anticipating the worst. Also a difficult one to break.

  A glance at the bedside clock made Cassidy jump to her feet, heart racing. “They’ll be here soon.”

  Her mother also stood, though considerably more slowly. “I’d really like for you and your dad to patch things up. He wants it, too.”

  Cassidy pushed her hair off her face, breathing deeply in an effort to relax. “Can we talk about this later? Please. I have enough to worry about right now.”

  “I understand.” At the door, her mother paused. “Just give it some consideration, okay? It would mean a lot to both of us. Your brother and sister, too.”

  “Sure.”

  Why, for heaven’s sake, was her mother pushing a reconciliation now, of all days? Had something changed? Cassidy was too rushed to give the matter more than a passing consideration. Benjie’s voice carried from the other end of the house, followed by thundering footsteps.