Her Rodeo Man. Cathy McDavid

the way, I’m—”

      “Hey, there you are!” Ryder’s father walked briskly toward them, his whiskered face alight with joy. “I’ve been waiting.”

      “Sorry. Got waylaid.” All the tension that had seeped out earlier returned. New knots formed. Sooner or later, he was going to have to tell his father the truth about the real reason he’d quit his job, and he wasn’t looking forward to it. “How are you, Dad?” Outside the stall, the two men engaged in a back-thumping hug.

      “Good, now that you’re here.” He held Ryder at arm’s length. “Glad to see you, son.”

      “I was helping...” Ryder turned to the woman, a little taken aback by her startled expression.

      “You’re Ryder Beckett?” The question hinged on an accusation.

      “On my good days.”

      Only his father laughed. “You should hear what they call him on his bad days.”

      The woman stared at him. “You weren’t supposed to be here till Saturday.”

      “I got away early.” Ryder felt his defenses rising, though he wasn’t sure why. And how was it she knew his schedule? That elusive familiarity from earlier returned. “Have we met before?”

      “This is Tatum Mayweather,” his father said. “You remember her. She’s your sister Cassidy’s best friend.”

      Tatum. Of course. The name brought his vague memories into sharp focus. “It’s been a lot of years,” he said by way of an excuse.

      “It has.” She removed the halter from Cupcake and shut the stall door behind her. “If you’ll excuse me, my lunch hour is over, and I need to get back to work. Your mother’s been answering the phone for me in the house.”

      “Guess I’ll see you around, then.”

      “Sure.”

      “Bright and early tomorrow morning.” His father beamed. “Tatum’s our office manager. After I give you a tour of the bucking stock operation, she can go over our contracts with you.”

      Office manager. That explained her cool reaction to him.

      If Ryder accepted his family offer to be the arena’s new head of marketing and client relations, he’d be in charge of advertising and promotion, duties currently performed by Tatum.

      “Look, it’s not...”

      What could he say? That he wasn’t after her job? Okay, maybe he was, but only parts of it and only temporarily. She, however, didn’t know that.

      “See you in the morning.” She left, her movements no longer graceful but stilted.

      Well, at least Ryder didn’t have to worry about becoming involved with a coworker. Any chance of that happening was walking away with Ms. Mayweather.

      Only after she’d disappeared through a door across from the tack room did Ryder realize she hadn’t asked Mercer to check on Cupcake.

      * * *

      RYDER’S FATHER KEPT up a near constant stream of conversation as they covered the short distance from the barn to the house. “Thanks for coming. It means a lot to me. Your mother, too.”

      It was no secret Ryder’s father still loved his ex-wife and intended to win her back. Ryder had agreed to help and support him with the expansion of the rodeo arena. He didn’t, however, understand his father’s enduring feelings regarding his mother.

      “Hope you’re hungry,” his father said. “Your mother’s fixed enough food for a dozen people.”

      “I don’t want her going to any trouble.”

      “Your early arrival put her in quite a tizzy. She made an emergency run to the grocery store last night just to have the food you like on hand.”

      “I’m not picky, Dad.”

      “Well, this is a big day for her. She’s nervous.”

      She wasn’t the only one. Ryder had been fighting anxiety for days now.

      Five years was a long time to go without seeing one’s mother. They’d spoken on the phone, but only occasionally when he happened to call his sisters. Mostly on birthdays and Christmas. One or the other insisted he talk to their mother, too. He usually relented, solely for his sisters’ sakes. Ryder simply couldn’t get past what he saw as his mother’s betrayal.

      His father always defended his mother, saying she was right to divorce him. Ryder didn’t see it that way. She cared only about herself and hadn’t once considered the effect losing their father would have on her children.

      Her selfishness, however, wasn’t the only reason his return was difficult. She’d lied. For twenty-five years. To everyone. And like the divorce, the lies had stolen parts of their lives they could never get back.

      “The girls can’t wait to see you.” His father talked about Ryder’s grown sisters as if they were young. Then again, Cassidy had been only ten when their parents divorced, to Ryder’s twelve, and Liberty not even born yet. His father probably did think of Ryder’s sisters as “girls.” “Cassidy’s volunteering at Benjie’s school this morning,” he continued, “and Liberty’s in Globe, picking up lumber. That young man of hers is coming to lunch, too.”

      “You like him?”

      “If you’re asking me, is he good enough for her, the answer is yes. I like him. Hell, I fixed ’em up.”

      “That’s not the story I heard. You darn near ruined their relationship.”

      “Water under the bridge.”

      Ryder’s sister obviously possessed a forgiving heart. “What’s the lumber for? Fences?”

      “Building jumps. We teach English hunter classes now, if you can believe that. Part of our outreach program with the school. We offer riding instruction to students for a discount price. Your mother’s on the school board and spearheaded the whole thing.”

      “I had no idea.” What else would Ryder learn about his mother during his stay? Did he care?

      “It’s good for the arena, and it’s good for the community. Gives the students something to do in the afternoons and on weekends. Reckless is a small town without funding for local sports programs. But you know that as well as anyone.”

      Ryder did. He’d grown up in Reckless until he was fourteen and legally old enough to choose which of his parents he wanted to live with. On the day after his birthday, he’d packed his suitcase. A week later, when nothing his mother said or did and no amount of tears she cried made a difference, Ryder boarded a bus to Kingman where his father had moved.

      For a few weeks each summer, he came back. That ended once Ryder graduated high school and left for college, allowing the rift between him and his mother to widen.

      Then, a few months ago, Liberty discovered she shared the same biological father as her siblings and made contact, inviting him to Reckless for the purpose of getting acquainted. He did that, along with exercising his right to half ownership of the arena. When Ryder’s mother objected, he threatened her with legal action. Having little choice, she eventually caved.

      The result, the Becketts were now all in one place, though not reunited. Perhaps that was too much to ask.

      His father led Ryder through the spacious backyard with its well-tended lawn. The swings and slide from Ryder’s youth were gone, replaced by one of those multicolored modular play sets, he assumed for his nephew, Benjie. Just as well. Ryder sported a three-inch scar on his forearm, proof that the swings and slide had been old and dilapidated even in his day.

      His father opened the kitchen door without knocking and called, “Sunny, you here?”

      Though his father didn’t live at the arena—he