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“Let it go, Cassidy.”
“He didn’t almost kill you!”
“It was a fender bender. You were fine.”
She drew back, her expression one of shock. “What if he’d been going faster?”
One night, their father had picked up Cassidy en route home from the bar. While pulling on to the property, he’d lost control of the truck and rammed into the well house. He’d been sorry. Their mother outraged.
“Mom was justified. He wasn’t only a lousy husband, he was a danger to our well-being.”
“He’s paid for his sins, Cassidy. We all have. Mom divorced him and told everyone some cowboy passing through was Liberty’s father. Our little sister deserved to know the truth. Mom had no right denying either her or Dad.”
“She had her reasons. Good ones.”
“Two wrongs don’t make a right.”
“In this case, they do.”
“She didn’t just reject him.” Ryder’s anger rose, its grip like a vise around his chest. “She tore our family apart. Took our father away from us. That wasn’t fair.”
“She’s not the only one to tear our family apart.” Tears welled in Cassidy’s eyes.
“What are you saying?”
“You left. And you hardly ever visited. You’re only here now because you quit your job. You don’t love us or want us. We’re just your last resort.”
Ryder sat in stunned silence. She thought he’d rejected them?
Before he could say more, Tatum entered the office. One glance at them, and she pulled up short. “Sorry. Am I interrupting?”
Chapter Three (#ulink_1d131078-3ecc-597d-a919-46fc2f055061)
Both Ryder and Cassidy insisted that Tatum hadn’t inadvertently walked in on a private and sensitive conversation. She didn’t believe them. Ryder had stood so fast, he almost upended the visitor chair. Cassidy averted her gaze but not before Tatum spied the look of utter distress on her friend’s face.
Old wounds. When the Becketts weren’t hiding them, they were poking them with sharp sticks.
“Why don’t we start with a tour of the place?” Ryder suggested, depositing his empty coffee cup into the wastebasket near Tatum’s desk. That put him in close proximity to Cassidy, and she noticeably tensed. “If you’re free,” he added.
He must have visited the Dawn to Dusk Coffee shop on his way in this morning. Cassidy wouldn’t have gone despite her penchant for caramel lattes. “I shouldn’t leave the office unattended,” Tatum said. Lunch yesterday had been an exception. Usually Sunny relieved her.
“It’s okay,” Cassidy volunteered. “I’ll watch the phones.”
“Are you sure?” Tatum was about to suggest that Cassidy give her brother the tour when he cut her short.
“Come on.” He motioned toward the door.
“Let me put my things away first.”
“Meet you in the barn.” The next instant, he was gone.
Wow. Whatever had happened between him and his sister must have been worse than Tatum thought. She stowed her lunch in the small countertop refrigerator and her purse in the desk drawer.
“You okay?” she asked Cassidy in a whisper, though Ryder was well beyond earshot.
“I’m sorry about yesterday. I shouldn’t have mentioned the kiss.”
“We were kids.” Tatum straightened, her previous anger at her friend dissipating.
“Yeah, but it was a big deal for you. At the time.”
“Forget about it, okay?” On impulse, Tatum gave her friend’s shoulders a quick squeeze.
“What was that for?”
“Do I need a reason?”
“I guess not.” Cassidy’s face relaxed. “Go on, get out of here. I need my daily dose of Facebook.”
Tatum laughed. It was a joke the two frequently shared. Both were borderline workaholics and wouldn’t ever wile away the hours surfing the net.
In the barn, she met up with Ryder. “Where do you want to start?”
“How’s Cupcake?”
They strolled the long aisle. “I haven’t had a chance to check on her this morning.”
“Let’s start there.”
“She’s better,” Tatum had to admit after they took the pony on a short walk around the wash bays.
“When’s the farrier due next?”
“Unless there’s an emergency, he’s here every Thursday.”
“She’ll be okay until then. If you do take her out for a ride, put a hoof boot on her.”
“Thank you. I probably shouldn’t have doubted you.”
“It was the clothes.” He smiled.
Tatum had to stop herself from ogling. Today he wore jeans, a Western-cut shirt that molded nicely to his broad shoulders and a cowboy hat that was scuffed in all the right places. He looked as if he’d never left the ranch.
“What made you give up rodeoing?” She recalled Sunny bragging on her son, who’d won several junior rodeo championships before abandoning a promising pro career.
“College.”
“Not enough time to do both?”
“Not enough money. Finances were tight. I had to make a choice.”
Tatum was familiar with that dilemma. She lived it on a daily basis.
They returned Cupcake to her stall, hung the halter on a nearby peg and continued their tour of the grounds. He was careful to take her arm when they walked over a hole or navigated an obstacle. Tatum didn’t need the assistance. She liked it, nonetheless.
“I always figured I’d wind up like my dad and make rodeo my life,” he said.
“You’re more like your mother than you realize. She’s really savvy when it comes to business.”
Lines appeared on Ryder’s brow. “I hadn’t thought of that before.”
“It’s not a bad thing.”
He avoided commenting by asking, “Besides the bulls, what else is new?”
“Not much. Tom Pratt gives monthly roping clinics.”
They wandered toward the bull pens, which were located on the other side of the arena, far from the horses. The two didn’t always mix, and it was best to maintain a healthy distance between them.
“He was smart to do that. Nothing will grow the arena faster than good bucking stock.”
“We can hardly keep up with the requests.”
In addition to providing bucking stock for their four annual rodeos, the Easy Money leased horses and now bulls to other rodeos. It was their single highest source of revenue. Tatum had felt guilty when the Becketts first hired her, thinking they were giving her a job solely because she was a close family friend. That opinion soon changed. With the increase in business, she was earning her keep and then some.
What more could Ryder do to grow the business than Mercer already had? It seemed to Tatum they were at their capacity for bucking stock contracts. Unless the Becketts purchased more bulls. Or Ryder assumed even more of Tatum’s duties. Then she really would be a charity case.
A pair of lone riders were making use of the arena. Tatum and Ryder stopped at the fence to observe them.
“Dad mentioned the after-school program,” he said.
“That’s going well. So well, your dad’s considering building a second practice ring just for the students.”
“But rodeo events are where the real money is.”
“Lessons and horse boarding more than pay for themselves.”
“I wasn’t insinuating Mom and my sisters’ contribution weren’t an important part of the arena. There’s room for both.”
As they started for the office, Liberty passed them, riding one horse and leading a second. She stopped to say good morning and to remind Ryder of their dinner plans that evening.
“What are you up to?” Ryder asked her.
“Endurance training. This is a client’s horse.” She indicated the tall gelding behind her prancing nervously in place. Pulling on the lead rope, she groaned in frustration. “He’s raring to go. I’ll catch up with you later.”
Ryder stared after her. “I wouldn’t have guessed she’d be the one to take after Dad. Then again, none of us knew she was related to him.”
Tatum and Cassidy had shared many a long discussion about her parents. Tatum understood Sunny’s motives for lying to Liberty—she didn’t want to give a raging alcoholic any reason to remain part of their lives. But Tatum wasn’t sure she’d do the same thing in Sunny’s shoes, if only because of the wedge it had driven between Sunny and Ryder. Losing her children for a mere four months had been unbearable. Sunny lost Ryder for twenty-two years, and she still didn’t have him back.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Where to now?”
“The outdoor stalls and back pastures,” she suggested.
They went in the same direction as Liberty. Ryder, Tatum noticed, slowed his steps to keep pace with her shorter strides. He was tall. Her chin barely reached his shoulder. He must have grown six inches after he left. If he kissed her now, he’d have to dip his head considerably further.
Stop it!
The mental reprimand was useless. How could she not think of Ryder when he walked beside her, near enough to touch if she extended her hand a mere three inches to the right?
What had they been talking about? Oh, yeah, lessons and boarding.
“Liberty’s also in charge of the trail rides,” Tatum said. “There’s usually one every weekend when we don’t have a rodeo.”
“Just one?”
“We don’t have enough requests for more than that on weekends.”
“Are they profitable?”
“Actually, yes.”
“What’s the margin?”
“I’d say about the same as riding lessons.”
“How do we advertise the rides? And don’t tell me on the website and posters in town.”
“Okay, I won’t. But that’s what we do.”
He muttered under his breath.
“There are tourists in town,” she protested. “They see the posters.”
“What about the marina at Roosevelt Lake? Do we have a poster in their window?”
“No.”
“We should.”
Did he notice he was talking in the plural? “Is that more of your reciprocal advertising?”
“You catch on fast.”
“I’ll call them and ask if we can deliver a poster.”
“I’ll do it. In fact, I’ll just take one over this afternoon. That way, I can bring back one of theirs.”
