More Than a Cowboy (Reckless, Arizona) Page 2

  And now he stood before her, his arms open. She went into them with only the slightest hesitation.

  He smelled like aftershave. Liberty inhaled deeply, committing the scent to memory.

  Mercer hugged her warmly. “There, there, girl.”

  Only when he’d murmured the endearment did she notice she was crying. Wiping at her cheeks, she straightened and reluctantly withdrew. So that was what it felt like to be held in a father’s embrace.

  “Do you want to sit?” she asked, her voice quavering.

  “Sure thing.” A grin spread across his whiskered face.

  For an instant, Liberty saw her brother, Ryder. Or, what Ryder would look like if he ever grinned. She couldn’t recall seeing him happy. Maybe learning they shared the same father would change that. Maybe he’d come home, too.

  Scanning the restaurant, she spotted the waitress heading toward the counter and motioned that she and Mercer would be taking a nearby booth.

  “Come on.” She led the way...only to pull up short after three steps and peer over her shoulder.

  Deacon was following them. She’d forgotten all about him.

  “Is there, um, something you want?”

  He addressed Mercer rather than her. “Would you like me to wait here?”

  “No.” Mercer clasped Deacon’s shoulder. “Join us.”

  “W-why?” Liberty stared at the two of them in confusion.

  “Deacon is my attorney,” Mercer said.

  “Your attorney?”

  “I’ll explain.” He took over, directing them to a table rather than a booth.

  Liberty followed him, her confusion mounting. Why did Mercer need legal counsel? And why bring his counsel to their meeting?

  “What’s going on? Tell me,” she insisted the moment they were seated, Mercer to her left and Deacon across from her. Was that intentional? In the wide-open restaurant, she felt cornered.

  “Liberty,” Mercer began slowly, “I’m so glad you contacted me. Learning you’re my daughter, well, it’s just about the best news I’ve ever had.” He paused, appearing to choose his words carefully. “The thing is, your mother and I have a complicated history. And a long-standing business arrangement.”

  “Business arrangement?”

  “I own half of the Easy Money. Not only that, your mother owes me a considerable amount of money. I’m here to meet you and to get to know you. But I’m also here to collect what is rightfully mine. Deacon has agreed to represent me. While I don’t want to bring a lawsuit against your mother...”

  Liberty had trouble understanding the rest of what Mercer said. It was hard to hear him above the roar of her world crashing down around her.

  * * *

  DEACON WATCHED LIBERTY’S BACK as she all but bolted from the restaurant, his gut twisting into a tight knot. The meeting went exactly as he’d expected it would: not well.

  He’d told Mercer when they met at his office yesterday that springing his true intentions on Liberty right from the get-go wasn’t the best move. Mercer had been adamant. He and Liberty had both been denied the truth for years. He refused to start out his relationship with her by following in her mother’s footsteps.

  Deacon understood. He also felt sorry for Liberty. She must be reeling. He’d go after her if he could and...do what? Tell her he wished things were different? That he’d been taken by her from the moment they met again his third day back and wanted to ask her out, only he hadn’t found the courage? Too late now. Mercer was his client and dating his daughter was out of the question.

  Instead, he suggested, “Should you check on her?”

  Mercer considered before answering. “Might be better to give her some time. If she’s as much her mother’s daughter as I suspect, she’s not ready to listen.”

  Deacon decided to let Mercer be the judge. Through the large window, he watched Liberty’s SUV leave the parking lot and considered stopping by the Easy Money later.

  Their waitress sidled up to the table and distributed menus. “Will the young lady be returning?”

  “I don’t think so.” Mercer’s tone was noncommittal.

  “Can I start you off with something to drink?”

  “You still have that fresh-squeezed lemonade?”

  “Got a fresh pitcher in the cooler.”

  “I’ll take a large glass.” Mercer beamed at the woman. For someone who had just devastated his long-lost daughter with upsetting news, he didn’t look particularly distressed.

  Or was he? People often put on a show to hide their true feelings. Deacon knew that better than most. He was putting on a show right now.

  “And for you?” the waitress prompted.

  “Iced tea.” After the past few minutes, Deacon could really use something stronger.

  He’d always liked Liberty, though she’d been barely more than a kid when he worked at the arena. He himself had been a skinny, awkward high school senior. She was kind to him when others weren’t. More than that, she’d defended him after the accident involving the bulls. Her mother and older sister, Cassidy, on the other hand, had only accusations for him. False ones.

  Mercer waited until their waitress had left to resume their conversation. “She’ll go straight to Sunny, naturally.”

  “You sound like you’re counting on it.”

  He chuckled, more to himself than out loud.

  Deacon didn’t bother perusing the menu. He’d lost his appetite. Instead, he powered up his tablet. “It might have been better for us to approach your ex-wife first.”

  “I don’t think it’ll make a difference. Sunny knew I’d return eventually.”

  The sum she owed Mercer was indeed considerable. Six figures. Most people wouldn’t have waited all those years to collect. Deacon considered his client’s motives. Would Mercer have returned to Reckless if Liberty hadn’t contacted him out of the blue, suggesting he might be her biological father?

  Somehow, Deacon didn’t think so. Mercer definitely had an agenda. Deacon couldn’t fault the man. He himself had a private agenda and Mercer retaining him as his attorney fit perfectly into his plans.

  It was why, as much as he liked Liberty and was attracted to her, he chose to take on Mercer as a client over any potential relationship with her. He hoped he didn’t regret his decision.

  “Have you had a chance yet to draw up the demand letter?” Mercer inquired after their beverages arrived and the waitress took his dinner order.

  Deacon scrolled through a document on his tablet. “I’m still reviewing the terms of your property settlement with Sunny. The language is a little ambiguous in some places.”

  “It was written a long time ago.”

  “Did you ever attempt to collect your share of the arena revenues?”

  “Nah.” He dismissed Deacon’s question with a frown. “Didn’t need it. I’ve done just fine for myself.”

  Deacon guessed the older man was probably comfortable. Experienced bucking stock foremen earned decent wages, and Mercer Beckett was considered to be one of the best. It stood to reason. Decades earlier, he’d been one of the best bull riders in the country.

  Why then the sudden interest in seeking his share of the revenues? It wasn’t greed or financial need. And how did Liberty figure into it? Deacon’s natural curiosity was piqued.

  “I’ll have a draft of the demand letter done first thing in the morning.”

  “Good.” Mercer nodded approvingly. “I’d like for us to visit the Easy Money as soon as possible with the letter in hand. What time can I come by your office in the morning?”

  “Nine. Be prepared, Mrs. Beckett’s attorney will most likely request changes.”

  “Such as?”

  “An extension. It’s what I’d recommend if I were her counsel.”

  “
I won’t give it to her.”

  “You might rethink that,” Deacon said. “She doesn’t have that kind of money. I’ve already checked into her finances.”

  Mercer and Sunny’s divorce agreement was atypical, to say the least. In exchange for paying no child support, Mercer let Sunny keep all the revenue from the Easy Money Rodeo Arena, an amount far exceeding any child support he would have been required to pay. Even after his son, Ryder, came to live with him two years after the divorce, and later when their daughter Cassidy turned eighteen and Mercer was entitled to the money, he didn’t take a single cent.

  Some might say his were the actions of a decent guy. Except now Mercer was coming after Sunny for all the back and possibly future payments. It was a puzzling contradiction.

  “I want her to feel like she has no choice.”

  Deacon decided to be blunt. “Can I ask why?”

  The older man winked. “So she’ll take the partnership agreement we’re going to offer her instead.”

  “Partnership agreement?”

  This was the first Mercer had mentioned any such thing. Deacon should have seen it coming.

  “I’m going to be a part of my daughters’ lives. Sunny won’t allow it unless she has no choice. The arena and the money she owes me are my way in.” His eyes softened, crinkling at the corners. “She’s stubborn. And willful.”

  Deacon was hardly a romantic, so his sudden revelation came as a bit of a shock. “You still love her.”

  “Never stopped.”

  “You want her back.”

  “Always have. But there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell until now.”

  “Mercer, I’m not sure a forced partnership and using Liberty is the right course of action for winning over your ex-wife. If she’s as stubborn and willful as you say—”

  “She’ll come around. Sooner or later. Until then, co-managing the arena will give me a reason to see her every day and get to know my daughters.”

  “Good luck with that.” From what Deacon knew of Sunny Beckett, Mercer had his work cut out for him.

  Mercer’s meal arrived. While he ate and Deacon finished a refill of his iced tea, they discussed the terms of the partnership agreement.

  “We need to see copies of the arena’s financial statements before finalizing any agreement,” Deacon said. “The last five years at least.”

  “Sunny will have them. She’s a whiz when it comes to the books and money. It’s one of the reasons we were able to build the arena up from practically nothing.”

  Deacon maintained a neutral expression. Mercer’s drinking almost drove the arena into the ground. Sunny was clearly one sharp businesswoman. She’d built up the arena from practically nothing—twice.

  “First order of business,” Mercer eagerly announced, “is to increase the bucking stock operation. Sunny has let most of it go since the accident.”

  Mercer knew about the accident with the bull and that the blame had been pinned on Deacon. He’d told Deacon in their meeting yesterday that he didn’t care about a youthful mistake. Plenty of more experienced bucking stock handlers made worse mistakes than that.

  When Deacon insisted on his innocence, Mercer’s response had been simply, “All the better.”

  “You can’t purchase new bucking stock without her consent,” Deacon said.

  “What if I use my own money?”

  “She’ll still have to consent. That’s how most partnership agreements are worded.”

  “Change the wording.”

  Deacon typed another note into his tablet. “Her attorney will fight it.”

  “Don’t know until we try.”

  Before, Deacon would have seen Mercer’s confidence as cocky and arrogant. Now, he knew the reason behind it. The man was in love and, evidently, eternally optimistic.

  He sure did have a funny way of demonstrating that love.

  Not that Deacon was suave and sophisticated when it came to ladies. His acute reading disability hadn’t just held him back in school. Even when he’d learned to compensate, old habits were hard to break.

  Take Liberty, for example. He’d had multiple opportunities to pursue her but hadn’t acted on them. Like Mercer said, she was pretty, with her short blond hair that didn’t look anything like a cowgirl’s. Neither did all those rings she wore, which he hadn’t noticed before today.

  The boots and jeans were another story. He couldn’t take his eyes off her incredibly long legs when she was riding. It had cost him more than one disqualification when they were team penning together.

  “Can you call Sunny and tell her to expect us tomorrow? After lunch sometime.” Mercer sopped up the last bit of chicken gravy with a chunk of dinner roll.

  “No problem.”

  “And ask her to make sure Cassidy and Liberty are there, too. This concerns all three of them.”

  Deacon exhaled. He should have known Liberty would be there.

  Despite his interest in her and the thoughts he couldn’t get out of his head no matter what, he hadn’t hesitated when Mercer approached him seeking representation. Having access to the arena’s records was exactly what Deacon needed to aid his own cause. For that, he would sacrifice a great deal.

  Someone other than Deacon had left the bull’s gate unlatched that terrible day, and he intended to find out who. Then, armed with proof positive, he’d see to it Sunny Beckett and everyone else in Reckless knew the truth. Deacon would live in shame no more.

  Chapter Two

  “How could you?”

  “Come on. Give Mom a break.”

  Liberty sighed expansively and slumped down into the kitchen chair. For the past half hour, her sister, Cassidy, had been defending their mother while Liberty had paced back and forth in front of the sink, venting her outrage at being lied to and her anger at the turn of events. If she’d been told the truth from the beginning, none of this would have happened.

  A lawsuit! And that was only a small portion of what Liberty was grappling with. The father she’d known for an entire five minutes had used her in his scheme to get the money owed him. Money!

  Did he realize that, as employees of the arena, Liberty and Cassidy would be profoundly affected?

  The scent of Mercer’s aftershave filled the air. Or maybe it was no more than a memory. One she’d be better off without. Refocusing her attention, she looked at her mother sitting across the table—and saw a stranger.

  “What else haven’t you told us, Mom?” she asked.

  “Nothing.” The response was uttered through tight lips. She’d been angry since being confronted.

  “Yeah.” Liberty snorted derisively. “I guess the identity of my real father, his half ownership in our rodeo arena and the money you owe him are enough.”

  “That’s not fair! I did what I thought was best to protect you.”

  “From what? A reformed alcoholic who hadn’t touched a drop in twenty-two years? A man who, by all accounts, was a good father to his son?”

  During most of their long, emotionally draining exchange, Sunny had sat at the table, enough sparks flashing in her eyes to ignite a brush fire.

  “I don’t trust him,” she blurted out. “And with good reason.”

  “Maybe once. Not for years. You had no right to screw with my life.”

  “That’s enough.” Sunny slapped the table with her hand.

  Liberty fumed. What did her mother have to be so mad about? Mercer’s return? She had to assume he’d approach her for the money one day. The amount was a staggering sum. Over one hundred thousand dollars. When Sunny informed them, Liberty had physically gulped. Their savings didn’t cover a fourth of that.

  Cassidy, too, though she’d regained her composure quickly, making up for their mother’s silence with more verbal attacks on Mercer.

 
; “She was thinking of us,” Cassidy said, her tone superior. “Like a good mother does.”

  Younger by eleven years, Liberty had always been the baby of the family, doted on by her mother and ruled over by her big sister. Liberty might be twenty-four, but as far as Cassidy was concerned, their relationship hadn’t changed.

  “Please.” Liberty leaned forward and waited for her mother to meet her gaze. A sudden surge of emotion tightened her voice. “I need to know. Why did you lie to me?”

  The topic of Mercer and the money owed him had been temporarily set aside. Liberty instead pressed for the information most important to her.

  “Trust me,” Cassidy quipped. “You don’t want Mercer Beckett for a father. He nearly killed us both.”

  Killing might be a stretch. On his way home from picking up Cassidy at a friend’s house, an inebriated Mercer lost control of the pickup he was driving and slammed into the well house. Thankfully, no one was injured. The same couldn’t be said for the well house. But the wreck had terrified Cassidy and prompted Sunny to send Mercer packing a few weeks later.

  Liberty might have sent him packing, too. Especially when he didn’t stop drinking immediately afterward. “He must regret what happened,” she said to Cassidy.

  “If he does, he sure as heck never told me.”

  Liberty’s sister always sided with their mother when it came to Mercer. With good cause, Liberty supposed. As far as Cassidy was concerned, Mercer’s past sins were unforgivable. Whereas Sunny hardly ever mentioned him, Cassidy seized every opportunity to speak ill. Daddy’s little girl hadn’t ever gotten over her hurt and resentment at his going from perfect father to raging alcoholic. Also fear. His drinking and actions while under the influence had scared her.

  From what Liberty was able to determine, both her siblings had once adored their father. Ryder’s devotion, however, hadn’t ever wavered despite Mercer’s drinking problem. At fourteen, when he could legally choose which parent to reside with, he left Reckless and joined Mercer in Kingman, a town nearly a full day’s drive away.

  Cassidy’s adoration of Mercer had soured. Liberty suspected their mother’s refusal to discuss him only hardened the shell surrounding her sister’s heart.