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Her Rodeo Man
Cathy McDavid
A PLACE TO CALL HOME?Ryder Beckett hasn’t been home in years, but now he’s back to reconcile with his past and help run the family ranch. And soon he’s fallen into old ways – tending the horses, testing his rodeo skills… and falling for beautiful Tatum Mayweather.Ryder’s childhood friend has become an elegant woman. But how can he get involved with a single mother of three when he’s only home temporarily? Tatum deserves a stay-in-one-place kind of guy and that’s never been Ryder. But is the pull of family enough to convince Ryder that this is where he belongs?
Her touch was both gentle and electrifying.
Closing his eyes, he let himself experience the moment. Don’t stop. Not yet.
She must have read his thoughts for she lingered. And lingered.
Her proximity brought with it a heat that invaded his every pore. As did the fragrant scent of her hair. Or was it the lotion she’d used that morning? Not to mention the silky texture of her skin.
Skin? Wait a minute.
Without realizing it, he’d lifted a hand to caress Tatum’s bare arm.
She made the slightest move to pull away. Ryder would have none of it and drew her close. Closer still. He didn’t stop until she was forced to grab hold of his shoulders or risk losing her balance.
“Ryder” was all she got out before he covered her mouth with his, turning a not-quite-innocent peck into a full-blown, make-no-mistake-I-want-you kiss.
Her Rodeo Man
Cathy McDavid
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For the past eighteen years CATHY McDAVID has been juggling a family, a job and writing, and doing pretty well at it, except for the housecleaning part. “Mostly” retired from the corporate business world, she writes full-time from her home in Scottsdale, Arizona, near the breathtaking McDowell Mountains. Her twins have “mostly” left home, returning every now and then to raid her refrigerators. On weekends, she heads to her cabin in the mountains, always taking her laptop with her. You can visit her website at www.cathymcdavid.com (http://www.cathymcdavid.com).
To Mike…and the incredible spark you always ignite. Here’s to forever, my love.
Contents
Cover (#u26563db3-8561-54a5-ba74-dedb6dd49220)
Introduction (#u263b6147-7369-5e1a-867b-4453f4d19cb2)
Title Page (#u264759ed-ef28-5337-b0e7-a4697f906822)
About the Author (#u064ea12b-f704-5dad-bb6a-bc1e666407d9)
Dedication (#uc06b74ed-3401-5d4b-9589-c349ce69ced7)
Chapter One (#ulink_865308b2-4404-541b-b0db-0317729c1b34)
Chapter Two (#ulink_26655661-b656-5ce5-a7cd-e8b68457dbc2)
Chapter Three (#ulink_a03b4cd7-e246-5682-882a-dd8b2d2c5aab)
Chapter Four (#ulink_44de432d-afe6-53c5-a24a-1df8b1914f84)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_f86c3105-de47-5009-bbbb-277590e9f86a)
The day Ryder Beckett swore would never come had arrived. He’d returned to Reckless, Arizona, and the Easy Money Rodeo Arena. But instead of a hero’s welcome, he was slinking home like a scolded puppy with his tail tucked firmly between his legs.
Really slinking. He should be meeting his father in the arena office. In fact, he was five minutes late. Only, Ryder had continued walking. Around the main barn, past the row of outdoor horse stalls, all the way to the horse pastures. There he stopped and forced himself to draw a long breath.
He did want to be here, he told himself. Though, to be honest, he needed to be here. Be somewhere, anyway. Why not Reckless, where he could maybe, possibly, mend a bridge or two? He would if his baby sister, Liberty, had her way. For Ryder, the jury was still out.
Keeping a low profile. Yeah, he decided, that had a better ring to it than slinking. Then again, Ryder possessed a talent for putting a positive spin on things. It was what had propelled him to the top in his field. Stupidity was what led to his downfall.
As he stood at the pasture fence, his leather dress shoes sank deep into the soft dirt. He’d have a chore cleaning them later. At the moment, he didn’t care.
When, he absently wondered, was the last time he’d worn a pair of boots? Or ridden a horse, for that matter? The answer came quickly. Five years ago during his last strained visit. He’d sworn then and there he’d never set sight on Reckless again. The aftermath of another falling-out with his mother.
Recent events had altered the circumstance of their enduring disagreement. Liberty, the one most hurt by their mother’s lies, had managed to make peace with both their parents. Not so Ryder. His anger at their mother’s betrayal hadn’t dimmed one bit in the twenty-five years since she’d divorced their father.
Was coming home a mistake? Only time would tell. In any case, he wasn’t staying long.
In the pasture, a woman haltered a large black pony and led it slowly toward the gate. Other horses, a half dozen or so pregnant mares, ambled behind, bobbing their heads and swishing their tails. Whatever might be happening, they wanted in on it.
Ryder leaned his forearms on the top fence railing. Even at this distance, he could tell two things: the pony was severely lame, and the woman was spectacularly attractive. Both drew his attention, and, for the moment, his meeting with his father was forgotten.
The two were a study in contrast. While the pony hobbled painfully, favoring its front left foot, the woman moved with elegance and grace, her long black hair misbehaving in the mild breeze. She stopped frequently to check on the pony and, when she did, rested her hand affectionately on its sleek neck.
Something about her struck a familiar, but elusive, chord with him. Who was she? A memory teased at the fringes of his mind but remained out of reach.
As he watched, the knots of tension residing in his shoulders relaxed. That was until she changed direction and headed toward him. Then, he immediately perked up, and his senses went on high alert.
“Hi,” she said as she approached. “Can I help you?”
She was even prettier up close. Large dark eyes analyzed him with unapologetic interest from a model-perfect oval face. Her full mouth stretched into a warm smile impossible not to return. The red T-shirt tucked into a pair of well-worn jeans emphasized her long legs and slim waist.
“I’m meeting someone.” He didn’t add that he was now ten minutes late or that the someone was, in fact, his father.
“Oh. Okay.” She took him in with a glance that said it all. Visitors to the Easy Money didn’t usually wear suits and ties.
“Mercer Beckett,” Ryder said.
“He’s in the office, I think.”
“That’s what he told me.”
At the gate, she paused and tilted her head, her gaze shifting from mild interest to open curiosity. “Can I show you the way?”
“Thanks. I already know it.”
“You’ve been here before?”
“You...could say that. But it’s been a while.”
“Well, welcome back.”
That smile again, familiar but not, and most appealing. It was almost enough to make Ryder break his promise to himself to steer clear of work romances. He’d learned that lesson the hard way and had paid the price with his now defunct career.
Not that he’d be working with this woman exactly. But she was probably a customer of the Becketts, one who boarded her pony at the arena. Close enough.
“You should fire your farrier and find another one.” Ryder nodded at the pony. “He or she isn’t worth a lick.”
The woman’s brows arched in surprise and emphasized their elegant shape. “I beg your pardon?”
He indicated the pony’s right front hoof. “She has a contracted heel. From incorrect shoeing.”
“No offense intended, but you don’t exactly strike me as an expert.”
“I’m not. But I do have some experience.” Living, breathing, eating and sleeping horses for the first half of his life. “You pull that shoe off, and you’ll see an immediate improvement.”
“Could be laminitis,” she countered. “That’s common in ponies.”
“It’s not laminitis.”
“You sound sure.”
“Remove the shoe, and you’ll see.” When she hesitated, he added, “What could it hurt?”
“I’ll ask one of the hands.” She slid the latch and opened the gate.
“I can do it for you. Remove the shoe.”
“In those clothes?”
“What’s a little dirt?”
She laughed, a low, sexy sound he quite liked. “We’ll see.”
Was he crazy? Flirting with a potential customer. A woman who could be married with three kids, for all he knew.
She started through the gate, leading the pony. The horses behind her also wanted out and began shoving their way into the narrow opening. A bottleneck formed, with the more aggressive of the horses squealing and nipping at their neighbors.
“Back now.” The woman waved a hand, which had almost no effect.
Ryder stepped forward. If the horses succeeded in getting loose, the Easy Money hands would be in for a merry chase.
“I’ll help.”
Before she could object, he positioned himself between her and the brood mares, blocking their escape. Once she and the pony were on the other side, he swung the gate shut.
“Thank you,” she said when he turned around.
“Good thing I happened by. You’d have had a stampede to contend with.”
“My hero.” Her teasing tone matched the twinkle in her eyes.
“Let me remove that too-small shoe, and I’ll really be your hero.”
“What about your meeting with Mercer?”
“It can wait.”
A small exaggeration. Ryder’s father had little patience with people who kept him waiting. Even so, Ryder didn’t change his mind.
They began a slow, painful procession toward the barn. If possible, Ryder would have carried the pony. Fortunately, before long, they reached an empty stall.
“I’ll get a rasp and a pair of hoof clippers.”
“I’ll show you where they’re kept.”
“Not necessary.”
The curiosity was back in her eyes. “I suppose you know where the tack room is, too.”
“Center aisle.”
