Her Rodeo Man

“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?”