Cathy McDavid

The Bull Rider's Son


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isn’t.”

      And, like that, the attraction fizzled. Shane had ventured into forbidden territory.

      “Sorry,” she said, “I have to go. We have to go. Benjie,” she called to her son. “Grandma’s fixing dinner.”

      “Aw, Mom. Not yet.”

      Cassidy stood—and realized too late she was caught between Shane’s knees and the fence railing. She couldn’t pass unless he allowed it. Would he? Her gaze was drawn to his handsome face.

      “Stay,” he said in a voice like warm honey. “Please.”

      “We can’t.”

      “You haven’t given me a chance to apologize.”

      Before she could ask what for, two high-pitched squeals split the air. The first from Skittles, the second from Bria. In a flash, Shane vaulted from the bench. Cassidy grabbed the wooden seat before losing her balance. She twisted sideways just in time to see him reach Skittles and his daughter’s side.

      * * *

      “I’M SORRY.” BENJIE hung his head.

      “It’s all right, buddy.” Shane held Bria tight in his arms. “No harm done.”

      Indeed, his daughter had quickly calmed down once she realized Skittles had merely taken a brisk hop-step when Benjie tugged on his tail.

      “It’s not okay.” Cassidy came up beside him, her mouth tight. “He was teasing her horse. That’s against arena rules and my rules.”

      “She’s fine,” Shane insisted. “And, besides, he apologized.”

      “Just because she’s not hurt is no excuse for what he did.”

      Something was off in Cassidy’s tone. Shane couldn’t quite put his finger on it. As if she was talking about something other than her son and the teasing incident.

      “All right. Then how ’bout we punish him? One hour of mucking bull manure after school tomorrow.”

      Cassidy nodded in agreement. “Seems fitting.”

      “Do I have to?” Benjie pouted.

      “Yes, you do, young man.”

      Bria giggled. “Ha, ha. You have to clean up cow poo.”

      Shane set her back atop Skittles. When he patted the horse’s rump, the pair moseyed off.

      Benjie followed on Rusty, his attitude adjusted.

      “He’s just being a boy,” Shane told Cassidy.

      “A misbehaving boy.”

      Rather than returning to the bench, he and Cassidy exited through the gate and continued watching from outside the round pen. He was glad to see she’d forgotten about leaving. For the moment, at least. Experience had taught him she’d flee at the tiniest provocation.

      Shane struggled to repress a smile. The women he typically met on the circuit were transparent, making their wants and wishes crystal clear. Cassidy, on the other hand, was a mystery. He liked that about her. Then again, he’d always appreciated a challenge.

      Since she hadn’t brought up his apology, he did. “I’m sorry about the kiss the other day. I got carried away.”

      “I’ve forgotten all about it.”

      “Why don’t I believe you?”

      “No big deal, Shane.”

      Wasn’t it? He’d felt something when his lips brushed her cheek. A rather enjoyable, no, exciting, sensation unlike any before. He’d been certain she’d felt it, too.

      “In any case, I was out of line.”

      “Okay. Apology accepted. Now can we talk about something else? How’s the massage therapy with Wasabi coming along? Dad says he’s improving daily.” She kept her voice light, though the underlying tension in it was unmistakable.

      Which made Shane reluctant to abide by her request. He wasn’t ready to drop the subject.

      “Remember that time in Albuquerque when I got thrown? You came running to my rescue then, too.”

      She gaped at him, proving she also remembered.

      “Why did we stop dating, Cassidy?”

      “I don’t know. We were young and ambitious and both wanted championship titles.”

      She focused her attention on the children. The two reliable lesson mounts were placidly circling with their young passengers.

      “We had a few good times,” he said. “You and me.”

      “We did.”

      “I was jealous when you started dating Hoyt.”

      “Really?” Surprise flared in her eyes. “You never said anything.”

      “Maybe I should have.”

      Her eyes widened. “I didn’t think you cared.”

      Shane nodded. Hoyt had been the better choice, or so he’d told himself.

      “Do you miss competing?” he asked.

      “Not at all. My life now is the arena and my son.”

      Had Hoyt’s engagement so soon after he broke up with Cassidy hardened her heart? Shane didn’t think so. Cassidy had been the one to end things. And she’d obviously dated other men. Pretty quickly after Hoyt, given she had a five-year-old son.

      “If you don’t mind my asking, what happened with you and Hoyt? One minute you were in love, the next you walked out on him.”

      “I do mind you asking.”

      “It’s been a long time.” What was the harm? Unless she still cared about Hoyt. The thought didn’t sit well with Shane for reasons he’d rather not examine.

      “Exactly. It’s been a long time and doesn’t matter anymore.” Grabbing the top fence railing, she placed her foot on the bottom one and hauled herself up. “Come on, Benjie. We really need to go.”

      Shane waited until she lowered herself to the ground before stating the obvious. “Every time I say something you don’t like or that makes you uncomfortable, you run off.”

      He half expected her to deny it, but she didn’t.

      “Then stop saying things I don’t like and that make me uncomfortable.”

      He chuckled and shook his head. “You’re something else, Cassidy Beckett.”

      “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

      “It was intended as one.” More so than she probably realized.

      She entered the pen and fetched her reluctant son. It seemed Benjie wasn’t done playing with Bria. Shane was glad the two were getting along. He wanted his daughter to fit in at the Easy Money and to make friends.

      “I supposed we should call it a day, too.” He took hold of Skittles’s bridle and led the horse through the gate. “I promised your mother I’d have you home by seven thirty.”

      Bria’s features fell. “Can I stay over again?”

      How he wished he could accommodate her. Nothing would make him happier. But he didn’t dare push the boundaries of his agreement with Bria’s mother, who’d been adamant that their daughter attend preschool on weekday mornings. Once he’d proved himself, then, yes, he’d insist on more time. Shane was smart enough to take things slowly.

      “Sorry, kiddo. But maybe your mom will let you come back this weekend.” Judy had mentioned attending a real estate class on Saturday. She might appreciate Shane babysitting.

      While he and Cassidy unsaddled and brushed