shy as a teenager, no doubt the result of being constantly picked on by his peers. She’d felt sorry for him. Not only did he have difficulty with school, his home life was a mess. The kind of mess people in a small town loved to gossip about.
As a result, he’d pulled at her teenage heartstrings. Now he pulled at her heart for an entirely different reason.
What did he think of the grown-up her? Oh, if only she weren’t in such a state about meeting Mercer, she’d find out.
“I’m sure you’ll do well.” An idea suddenly occurred to her. “Hey, maybe I could talk to my mom about hiring you. Our liability agreement is probably really outdated.”
His features instantly clouded. “I appreciate it, but I have to say no. Conflict of interest.”
“Because we already have an attorney?”
“I’m sorry, I can’t discuss it.” He appeared genuinely distressed.
Though there was no real reason, Liberty felt hurt. She’d been sure their attraction these past two months since his return was mutual.
Wait! That must be it. He didn’t want to take on the Becketts as clients because then he couldn’t ask her out.
She said nothing more. Just sat and smiled to herself, her fingers twisting the jade ring on her right hand. She had a whole new reason to be nervous.
The sudden sound of the front door opening had her jumping up from her seat. It was him. Mercer! She recognized him from the pictures she’d researched on the internet.
Their glances connected, and her knees turned to butter.
“Liberty?” Removing his cowboy hat, Mercer combed his fingers through his too long gray hair.
Beside her, Deacon also stood. If not for his hand on her elbow, she might have wobbled ungracefully. Fortunately, he just as quickly released her...and went nowhere.
Oh, this was awkward. For several lengthy seconds, they all three stared at one another.
“You’re so pretty.” Mercer’s gaze took her in from head to toe as if she were a newly minted marvel. “Just like your mother.”
Liberty swallowed, surprised to find a lump the size of a golf ball lodged in her throat. She did look like Sunny Beckett and nothing at all like her brother and sister, which was probably why she’d never directly questioned the lies her mother told.
But behind Sunny’s back? That was an altogether different thing. The frequent tales she’d heard from the townsfolk about Mercer and her mother, with their many conflicting versions, was why Liberty had begun to dig into her parentage.
Her father hadn’t been hard to find. She’d started searching a few months ago after a conversation with Ricky, her team penning partner. The subject of Mercer came up—it often did even after all these years. Ricky had told her about Mercer being at the Wild West Days Rodeo twenty-five years ago. He’d been adamant and claimed to have a photo somewhere. Liberty’s mother always swore Mercer had left before the rodeo. Liberty couldn’t forget the conversation and began poking around. Those who could remember confirmed Ricky’s story.
It had required all of Liberty’s courage to contact Mercer. He’d been nice and readily taken her call. Turned out, he’d had his own suspicions about being her father. The DNA test was simple enough to conduct. Once the results were in, they’d made their plans.
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