The Bull Rider's Son

“I do mind you asking.”

“It’s been a long time.” What was the harm? Unless she still cared about Hoyt. The thought didn’t sit well with Shane for reasons he’d rather not examine.

“Exactly. It’s been a long time and doesn’t matter anymore.” Grabbing the top fence railing, she placed her foot on the bottom one and hauled herself up. “Come on, Benjie. We really need to go.”

Shane waited until she lowered herself to the ground before stating the obvious. “Every time I say something you don’t like or that makes you uncomfortable, you run off.”

He half expected her to deny it, but she didn’t.

“Then stop saying things I don’t like and that make me uncomfortable.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “You’re something else, Cassidy Beckett.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It was intended as one.” More so than she probably realized.

She entered the pen and fetched her reluctant son. It seemed Benjie wasn’t done playing with Bria. Shane was glad the two were getting along. He wanted his daughter to fit in at the Easy Money and to make friends.

“I supposed we should call it a day, too.” He took hold of Skittles’s bridle and led the horse through the gate. “I promised your mother I’d have you home by seven thirty.”

Bria’s features fell. “Can I stay over again?”

How he wished he could accommodate her. Nothing would make him happier. But he didn’t dare push the boundaries of his agreement with Bria’s mother, who’d been adamant that their daughter attend preschool on weekday mornings. Once he’d proved himself, then, yes, he’d insist on more time. Shane was smart enough to take things slowly.

“Sorry, kiddo. But maybe your mom will let you come back this weekend.” Judy had mentioned attending a real estate class on Saturday. She might appreciate Shane babysitting.

While he and Cassidy unsaddled and brushed down the mounts, the kids played a game of tag in the barn aisle. Benjie could have easily won, but he let Bria catch him more than once.

“He’s good with her,” Shane told Cassidy. “Considering he’s a year older and a boy.”

“Benjie’s used to socializing with kids of all ages. They’re a staple at the arena.” Untying Rusty’s lead rope, she walked ahead. “Come on, Benjie. Help me put Rusty in his stall.”

Bria stared after them, her expression bereft. Shane cheered her by lifting her up and setting her on Skittles’s bare back.

“Hold on to his mane,” he instructed and returned the old horse to his stall, three down from Rusty’s. Shane used the opportunity to continue conversing with Cassidy.

“Maybe next Saturday we can take them on a trail ride together?” He’d heard a lot about the rolling mountains beyond the Easy Money’s back pastures, but had not yet found the time to ride them.

“I’m working. The Jamboree’s in two weeks.”

She was referring to the arena’s next big rodeo. Shane would be busy, too. Yet, he couldn’t take no for an answer.

“How much would it hurt if we quit an hour early?” He removed Skittles’s halter and lifted Bria from the horse’s back. She scampered over to Benjie.

“I’m not going on a date with you,” Cassidy said.

“It’s not a date. We’re talking a trail ride with Benjie and Bria. Invite your friend Tatum and her kids if you want.”

“Bad idea.” She shut the door on Rusty’s stall. “Besides, I have other plans. A...family function.”

“We were friends once. We can be again.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Only if you make it complicated.”

“No.”

“Why? Because of Hoyt?”

“Of course not.”

“You still care for him.”

“I don’t. He means nothing to me.”

Shane recalled their brief kiss the other day and the sparks that had ignited between them. “What about me, Cassidy? Do I mean anything to you?”

Her sharp intake of breath and flustered denial should have been enough of an answer for him.

It wasn’t, and Shane was more than prepared to see exactly how deep—or not—her feelings for him ran.

Chapter Four (#u2fadd239-0b52-51a4-83b3-261aa682455d)

Most women who owned SUVs did so because they had a pack of children to tote around. That was true for Cassidy and her friend Tatum. Cassidy didn’t understand why her sister drove one. Liberty had always struck her as the consummate cowgirl, more comfortable behind the wheel of a pickup truck than anything else.

Yet, here they were, Cassidy, Liberty and their mother, heading into Mesa for a girls’ afternoon, riding in style—not—in her sister’s SUV. The vehicle was a mess. But instead of toys scattered across the floor of the back seat, there were a pair of old boots, a hoof pick, a bridle with a broken buckle, a spray bottle of mane detangler, bride magazines and an assortment of loose CDs.

The empty snack food wrappers, however, were the same as the ones in Cassidy’s car. Literally, the same. Apparently, Liberty subscribed to a similar on-the-go diet as Benjie.

Cassidy rolled her eyes from her seat in the back. In the front, her mother and sister chatted nonstop about Liberty’s wedding plans. They paid little attention to Cassidy, as long as she interjected the occasional comment about flowers or menu selections or veil versus no veil.

The wedding wasn’t until the end of August—a date had finally been set—but, according to her mother and sister, the list of things to do in preparation was endless and required an eight-month head start.

In an attempt to chip away at the list, the three of them had taken off in the middle of what promised to be a slow day at the arena for some dress shopping and, if time allowed, a visit to the wedding supply store.

“Just to check out a few things,” Liberty had said.

Right, Cassidy thought. Define “few.”

Her father, brother and Tatum had volunteered to hold down the fort in their absence. Cassidy had wanted to stay behind, too, but her sister and mother wouldn’t hear of it.

She relented after they agreed to include a stop at the party goods store. Benjie was turning six this coming weekend, and Cassidy was planning a party. Tatum’s three kids and a half-dozen friends from school were coming. Benjie was beside himself with excitement.

“We’re here,” Liberty sang out, turning the SUV into the shopping center parking lot.

Cassidy tried to convince herself the sudden rush of nerves she suffered had nothing to do with wedding dress shopping and everything to do with the car that had swerved past them a little too close for comfort. Weddings in general made her uncomfortable. Perhaps because they all too often led to divorce.