More Than a Cowboy (Reckless, Arizona) Read online

  “You will when you see the money rolling in.”

  Liberty exchanged glances with her sister. Their parents’ constant bickering strained their collective patience to its limit. Matchmaking? What had she been thinking? There was no reconciling that pair. Not while they continued with their ridiculous power struggle.

  Deacon’s sage advice rang in her ears. She was better off helping her parents work together rather than rekindling a romance that died twenty-five years ago.

  God, she missed him. Ten whole days since their awful, terrible fight.

  Nothing had turned out the way she’d envisioned it. She didn’t have a loving or even affectionate relationship with her father—too many open, bleeding wounds. She’d yet to forgive her mother for lying to her all these years—same reason as above. And her family wasn’t reconciled.

  Well, not entirely accurate. Ryder was coming home. He’d called this morning to report he’d given his notice at his job and would arrive within the month.

  Mercer’s doing. Yay, one good thing to his credit.

  Okay, okay, Ryder’s return was wonderful. As was that small period of time when she and Deacon had been a couple.

  Why hadn’t she returned his phone calls? Ignoring him had been unkind, and she wasn’t an unkind person. But she’d been hurt and confused and the dissolution letter he’d delivered had been like a hurricane tearing through her family’s lives.

  Mercer’s doing again. He’d put Deacon in a difficult position.

  So had she. Deacon made her a promise, but she’d as much as forced it out of him. After she’d practically seduced him when she knew it would compromise his ethics. Deacon was an honorable attorney, and she hadn’t respected that. It took Liberty a full week to put on her big-girl panties and admit her share of the blame.

  Now, he was leaving town, and she’d never get the chance to tell him.

  Liberty pressed a hand to her middle and the large knot of pain that had taken up permanent residence there.

  Damn her parents. Damn her for being such a weakling. Instead of confronting them about their deceptions, she just kept hoping they’d reconcile. That way, things wouldn’t have to get ugly or messy.

  How wrong could she have been? The truth was, things needed to get really ugly and messy. Like cauterizing a wound.

  She could do it. Stand up to her parents. Hold them accountable. Just not here and not now. Tomorrow, after she’d collected her thoughts and rehearsed a few mental speeches.

  More hiding her head in the sand?

  No, she told herself. Flying off the handle would serve no purpose. A ride in the hills—that was what she needed to calm her nerves and clear her head. It was still hot outside. She’d have to bring plenty of water.

  “You mind covering my class for me?” she asked Cassidy.

  “Sure. What’s up?”

  “Be back around seven.” Liberty walked away, picturing their confused and annoyed expressions. Her mother’s might be sympathetic. Sunny had felt bad that Deacon was leaving. Liberty had watched her closely after Ernie’s announcement.

  The latch to her mare’s stall stuck and refused to budge. Liberty shoved hard, putting her weight in it. Finally, the latch gave. The effort drained her. Covering her face with her hands, she succumbed to the sobs she’d been holding back for over a week. The startled mare snorted and retreated to a far corner.

  “You all right, darling?”

  Her mother! Cripes. The woman had a knack for picking the worst possible times.

  “Fine.” Peachy. Never better.

  “Are you sure?”

  Liberty averted her head. “I’m going for a ride.”

  “Can we talk first?”

  “Not now, Mom. Please. I’m kind of busy.”

  “I’m sorry I lied to you about Mercer being your father.” Her mother sounded on the verge of tears herself. “I’ve done you both a disservice.”

  She’d heard the apology before. It should be enough to assuage her anger. It wasn’t.

  “Yes, you have.” She expected her mother to ask for forgiveness, and was totally shocked when she didn’t.

  “You’ve done a disservice, as well.”

  “Hey, I’m the victim here!”

  “You expect too much from us. From Deacon, too.”

  He’d said something similar. It stung as much then as now. “I think being told the truth about my father isn’t expecting too much.”

  “I was protecting you. Selfishly protecting you,” her mother amended before Liberty could object. “You have no idea what it was like. I loved Mercer more than life itself. I was certain if I let him stay, let him come back after he left, that he’d hurt us, me, all over again.” Her voice cracked. “Only this time, the results might be worse than simply losing the arena.”

  “Are you referring to the night he crashed into the well house?”

  “Can you imagine the outcome if he’d been driving on the road? Or going faster?” Her mother shuddered. “I could have lost a daughter. Or both of them.”

  “I’d have sent him away, too, after that. But I also would have told my other daughter that he was her biological father. Not some stranger.”

  “I was afraid you’d do exactly what you did and insist on meeting him. Maybe leave us to go live with him like Ryder had. I was most afraid he’d do what he did and come back to Reckless.”

  “You didn’t pay him the money he was owed. You had to know he’d return eventually.”

  “As they say, out of sight, out of mind.”

  Obviously, Liberty inherited her head-in-the-sand tendency from her mother.

  “That’s not like you, Mom. You’re smart.”

  She smiled ruefully. “Mercer does that to me. Makes me lose my head.”

  Liberty clearly inherited that tendency from her mother, too. She’d lost her head over Deacon. She’d thought only of the moment and not the consequences of their actions.

  “I can’t undo the past,” Sunny said. “Can’t give you back all those years with Mercer you lost. But I can give you the future.”

  Liberty shut the latch on the stall door. She wasn’t going riding tonight. “I’m listening.”

  “He and I won’t be reconciling. I know that’s what you want.”

  “I never said—”

  “Cassidy told me. She was quite appalled.”

  Though the remark was made in jest, Liberty couldn’t bring herself to laugh. “It was a stupid idea.”

  “It was a sweet idea.”

  “I just wanted my parents back together. Is that so wrong?”

  “Not at all.” Her mother tucked a lock of hair behind Liberty’s ear, the gesture familiar and endearing. “But Mercer and I, there’s just too much bad history. I will promise you something, however.”

  Not another promise. She was through demanding those for a while.

  “He and I are committed to making the Easy Money the best it can be. A successful, thriving business worthy of passing down to our children and grandchildren. To that end, we will strive to get along. If it kills us,” she added through gritted teeth.

  “Knowing how the two of you fight, that just might happen.”

  “Cassidy’s also agreed to play nice with him. As best she can.”

  “That’s good. I’d hate for Ryder to come home and find us at each other’s throats.”

  “If he’d known about you, wild horses wouldn’t have kept him away.”

  She was referring to Mercer, not Ryder. “He doesn’t love me.”

  “He does. Trust me, I know the man. His intentions weren’t to hurt you.”

  “That’s what people keep saying.” She was remembering Deacon. “But it hurt like hell anyway.”

  “We’ve let our bad history bleed o
ver onto our children. It’s shameful.”

  “It’s a lot more than shameful, Mom.” Liberty gave voice to her anger. It was satisfying and freeing. “Tossing out a few apologies doesn’t make it any better.”

  “I know I have a lot of lost ground to recover.”

  “You’ve acted in your own best interests for years, telling yourself and the rest of us you were doing it to protect us. What mother denies her child her father? Even if he isn’t such a great one. That’s not shameful, Mom, it’s despicable.”

  “You’re right. I let my fears cloud my judgment. But they weren’t completely unjustified. Mercer did nearly bankrupt the arena, and he did endanger your sister.”

  Liberty’s shoulders slumped. Her outburst had taken some of the wind from her sails. “What’s changed you all of a sudden?”

  “That’s a fair question.”

  “Oh, don’t tell me. It was Ernie admitting he let the bulls out. Not Deacon.”

  “No. It was seeing how devastated you are over losing Deacon. A mother dreams of the day her daughter falls in love with a wonderful man. She doesn’t dream of being the impetus that drives her daughter and that man apart. If I could turn back time to the day he delivered the dissolution letter, I would.”

  Fresh tears pricked Liberty’s eyes. She did love Deacon. More than she’d thought it was possible. Finally, Liberty Beckett falls for a guy, then goes and sabotages it.

  “I messed things up with him. Not you and Mercer.”

  “You had lots of help.”

  She sniffed. “We do seem dedicated to making each other miserable.”

  “I want you to be happy, sweetie. For all of us to be happy. And to make up for the heartache I’ve caused.”

  Liberty could hold out longer. She definitely had it in her. Was that really what she wanted? A family perpetually torn apart because she was too stubborn to forgive?

  Her mother was trying. The least Liberty could do was try, too.

  She opened her arms. The next instant, she and her mother were embracing, the first time since before Mercer’s return. It felt good. And natural. There was yet hope for the Becketts.

  After shedding a few more tears, the two of them chatted like mother and daughter, setting tentative plans for when Ryder arrived. Liberty wanted to share her mother’s excitement. It was hard.

  “I’ll see you at dinner, okay?” Having canceled her ride, she decided to accomplish a few of Cassidy’s chores. She owed her sister that much for covering her class.

  “Mercer wants to talk to you,” Sunny said.

  Liberty wanted to talk to him, too. When she wasn’t such an emotional wreck. “I will. Later.”

  “He’s waiting for you.”

  She stared down the barn aisle. True to her mother’s words, Mercer stood at the entrance to the barn. Ducking out without him seeing her was impossible.

  Big deal. Did she care?

  To her surprise, she realized she did.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “I didn’t want to interrupt you and your mother,” Mercer said when Liberty neared.

  What was this? Parents-gang-up-on-their-daughter day?

  She opened the door to the tack room, which was where they also kept their medical supplies. “I have to put some liniment on Diablo’s legs and wrap them.”

  “I’ll help.”

  “It’s a one-person job, Mercer.”

  “Then I’ll talk while you work.”

  She sighed. He was harder to shake than a hungry stray dog.

  But hadn’t she just made a commitment to reunite her family? That couldn’t happen if she kept ignoring Mercer.

  “Give me a minute.” She gathered the bottle of liniment, four pads and four leg wraps.”

  “Let me carry that.” He held out his hands.

  “No need.” Balancing the items awkwardly against her chest—she could be pigheaded right up there with the best of them—she forged ahead.

  Mercer followed her not only to Diablo’s stall but into the stall with her. There, he hovered as she inspected the horse’s legs for lingering signs of stiffness.

  Liberty straightened. “I’m waiting, Mercer.”

  He met her gaze directly. “I love your mother. Almost everything I’ve done, good and bad, has been because I want to get her back.”

  “It’s the bad stuff I have a problem with.”

  “I deserve your anger. We can sort through that later, however.”

  “Isn’t that why we’re here? To sort through my anger?” She grabbed the liniment and started applying it to Diablo’s back legs.

  “I want to talk about Deacon.”

  She tottered precariously for a fraction of a second before steadying herself. “Well, I don’t.”

  “I get mad, and I convince myself I can get people to do what I want by pressuring them.”

  “You’re only just realizing that?”

  He chuckled.

  “I wasn’t joking.”

  “No, I don’t guess you were.” He leaned an elbow on the stall door. “I figured out how obnoxious I can be twenty-five years ago when your mother kicked me to the curb. Which I heartily deserved, by the way.”

  “What does this have to do with Deacon?”

  “As wrong as my actions might have been, my intentions were always the best.”

  Was there a conspiracy between Deacon and her parents? How often was she going to be reminded that Mercer meant well?

  Where Liberty had been quick to soften with her mother, she resisted with her father. The reality was she hadn’t known him long or developed strong feelings for him.

  Deep down, she wanted to love him. She wanted to say to someone they met, “This is my father,” and feel a surge of emotions. Pride. Pleasure. Satisfaction.

  “Having good intentions doesn’t give you an automatic pass,” she said. “You hurt me.”

  “The only reason Deacon delivered that notice of dissolution to your mother was because I threatened him.”

  “I know that.”

  “He told you?”

  “I figured as much. You have a track record of using people.”

  “He requested I hire another attorney. I didn’t want to wait that long, so I told him I’d report him to the bar association for taking up with my daughter.”

  “Oh, my God.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “That’s a horrible thing to do. Low even for you.”

  He nodded in agreement, though there was no contrition in his demeanor when he spoke. “Not my most shining moment.”

  Fury rose inside Liberty. “And you think coming clean with me absolves you of any wrongdoing?”

  “Hardly.” He chuckled again.

  Criminy, the man was infuriating. She could just shake him.

  “I am not amused.”

  He pushed off the stall door. “Don’t let Deacon leave. Not without talking to him first.”

  “You’re hardly one to dispense advice.”

  “I’m right in this case.”

  “He’s made up his mind.” Liberty bent and finished wrapping Diablo’s last leg. “It won’t do any good.”

  “He’ll change his mind if you admit you love him.”

  Did everyone in her family know her feelings for Deacon? What about Ryder? Why not include him, too? She picked up the bottle of liniment and exited the stall, Mercer on her heels.

  “I can’t just march up to him and say, Don’t leave. I love you.”

  “Why not? That’s a dandy idea.”

  “Because, because...” Her mouth failed to form the words. Annoyed more with herself than Mercer, she headed for the tack room. Of course, he came with her.

  “I have a list of regrets a mile long,” he said. “Don’t you make you
r own list, too, Libby.”

  “Libby?”

  “It’s a nickname.”

  She’d never had a nickname. Except for honey, which Deacon had called her. To her chagrin, her resolve weakened.

  “Talk to him,” Mercer said. “If he doesn’t listen, then he’s not the man you thought he was and certainly not the man for you.”

  She returned the liniment to the shelf. “You’re making your screwup my responsibility to fix. Why don’t you talk to him?”

  “It’d sound better coming from you.”

  “Forget it.”

  “Go to his office and take our bucking stock contract.” Mercer scratched his bristled jaw as if thinking. “Tell him we need it updated to include the bulls. Before this weekend. That ought to break the ice.”

  “That is the most pathetic ploy ever. He’ll see right through me.”

  “Great. That’ll save you some time.”

  “I’m not going.” She yanked the tack room door shut.

  “It’s natural to have cold feet. From what your mother says, you don’t have a lot of experience at being in love.”

  “I can’t believe I’m standing here listening to this.”

  “He’s a good man, Libby. And I’m pretty sure he loves you, too. Don’t let your mother’s and my mistakes become yours.”

  “What am I supposed to do? Drop everything and go hunt him down?”

  “Reckless is a small town. He can’t be that hard to find.”

  She hesitated, actually considering going through with it. Something held her back.

  “You know what’s number one on my list of regrets?” Mercer moved closer to her.

  She could hear the lecture before he even started. “Not fighting for Mom when you had the chance.”

  “Nope. That’s number two. My biggest regret is not coming back to Reckless when I first suspected you were my daughter.”

  A tug pulled at the gaping tear in her heart. “When was that?” she asked in a choked voice.

  “When I heard your mom was pregnant again. I’m no genius but even I can do simple math.”