Her Rodeo Man. Cathy McDavid
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with the headhunter and not quite ready to face anyone, he went instead to the barn. Without quite realizing where he was going, he found himself standing in front of Cupcake’s stall.
The pony snickered and came over for a petting. Ryder automatically gave her a scratch between her short, stubby ears. The next minute, he was in the stall, examining her sore hoof.
“I think you’ll live.”
Cupcake investigated him, snorting lustily when she encountered his hair.
“Quit it, will you?” Ryder laughed and dropped her hoof.
He and Cassidy once had a pony a lot like this one when they were young. A sorrel named Flame. With two parents involved in rodeo, they’d learned to ride at a very young age.
Suddenly, Ryder missed being on a horse. He’d remedy that this weekend, he decided.
“Hey! What are you doing to our pony?” The annoyed voice belonged to a pint-size girl who, given her long black hair, could only be Tatum’s daughter. She stood in the open stall door, hands fisted and planted at her sides.
“Checking her foot.”
“I don’t know you.” The girl backed away and gave Ryder a very suspicious once-over.
“I work here. With your mother.”
“Then, why haven’t I seen you before?”
“I’m new.”
“I’m going to tell my mom.”
He expected her to take off running. She didn’t. Instead, she opened her mouth and screamed at the top of her lungs.
“Mom!”
“Hey, it’s all right. You don’t have to—”
She screamed again.
The next second, Tatum came charging up the aisle, one boy in tow, the other, younger one bouncing on her hip. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Ryder said.
The girl pointed accusingly at him. “This man is trying to hurt Cupcake.”
“Sorry about that.” Tatum suppressed a grin. “I don’t know what got into her.”
“No harm done. You got here before the police were called.”
She walked beside Ryder, carrying her youngest, Adam, because he’d pitched a fit when she tried to put him down. He got that way sometimes after day care, clingy and insecure. The mother in her was patient and understanding of his separation anxiety. The teacher in her wanted him to be more independent. “Gretchen is leery of strangers.”
“I noticed.”
“She’s gotten worse since...” Tatum almost said, since she’d left the kids with her former mother-in-law. Fortunately, she caught herself before having to explain those dark and difficult months. “Lately.”
“Who needs a watchdog with Gretchen?”
Tatum took the half smile Ryder offered as an indication he wasn’t offended. Not that her daughter had done anything all that awful, other than accuse him of hurting Cupcake. At the top of her lungs.
“She isn’t here every day. Cassidy picked up her and Benjie from school, then swung by and got the boys from day care, which is right down the road. We do that a lot. Share driving responsibilities.”
“Sounds like a good system.”
It was. Two single moms helping each other out. They also swapped turns running errands and babysitting. Not that either of them needed a babysitter much. For dates, at least. Tatum was acutely aware of how a woman in her midthirties with three children, ages seven and under, sent most guys running straight for the hills.
Ryder was among that group. According to Sunny, he was a confirmed, born-again bachelor who put his career first. Not wanting children could be one of his reasons. Or, he might want his own, not a ready-made family.
She’d heard that particular excuse more than once when, last year on a whim, she’d tried internet dating. What a mistake. There was only so much rejection a gal could take.
“How did your visit to the marina go?” she asked.
“We now have a poster in their window.” Ryder went on to tell her about his stop at the mining company offices.
She was impressed. No one in the Beckett family had ever reached out to a large corporation before. “If you give me the secretary’s name, I’ll follow up in a week. Or you can make the call.”
“I think that’s a good idea. You’re probably less pushy than me,” he added with a chuckle.
“I was thinking more like she’d listen better to another woman.”
His chuckle increased to a laugh. “You’ve missed your calling, Tatum Mayweather. You’d make a good marketing exec.”
“I love my job.”
“Which one?”
“Both. Teaching and working here.” She did love her job at the ranch, in her way. “Where else can I bring my children with me when we’re not busy?”
Gretchen and Drew, her oldest boy, walked ahead of them, Gretchen leading Cupcake and Drew batting stones out of their path with a stick. The pony’s limp had completely diminished, and Tatum wasn’t worried about letting the children ride her.
To that end, they’d stopped first at the tack room. Rather than leave, Ryder had insisted on saddling and bridling the pony, though Tatum was more than capable of doing it herself.
“Where to now?”
She pointed at the round pen across from the outdoor stalls. “We usually ride there. Cupcake’s small. Less chance of being trampled by bigger, faster-moving horses.”
He started ahead.
She had to walk fast in order to keep pace. “Seriously Ryder, I don’t want to keep you. I’m sure you have somewhere else to be.”
“I’ve missed working with horses.” He opened the gate to the pen and swung it wide.
“A pony ride can’t be what you had in mind.”
“I’m free until dinner tonight with Liberty and Deacon. Might as well spend the time with you.”
Her heart skipped, and, all at once, she was twelve years old again and deep in the throes of a crush. Tatum had grown up with the two older Beckett siblings, she and Cassidy becoming friends in first grade. Funny, Tatum hadn’t noticed Ryder much until that last year before he left. She blamed puberty for her heart flutters then. She couldn’t say the same thing now.
“Me, first.” Drew abandoned his stick the moment they entered the pen.
“My turn. I’m oldest.” Gretchen pushed past Drew, grabbing the saddle horn and trying to hoist herself up. She lacked the extra foot in height to manage it on her own.
“Now, now.” Tatum set Adam on the ground, but he instantly wrapped his arms around her leg and stuck his thumb in his mouth, a habit he’d mostly given up months ago. Had something happened at day care to prompt this worse-than-usual insecurity? She’d ask in the morning when she dropped him off. “No need to fight. You and Drew can ride Cupcake together.”
Their combined weight was easy enough for the sturdy pony to handle.
“I’m not riding with him.” If looks could vaporize, Gretchen’s younger brother would be no more than a puff of smoke.
“All right,” Tatum said evenly. “Then Drew can go first.”
“Not fair!” Gretchen shrieked.