The Bull Rider's Son. Cathy Mcdavid
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you to keep Hoyt in the dark regarding Benjie.”
Cassidy gawked at her mother. “I thought you were on my side.”
“I am on your side and will support any decision you make.”
“Except now that Dad’s back, and he and Liberty are all cozy and comfy, you’re having second thoughts.”
“I’ve always had regrets. It wasn’t an easy decision to make, lying all these years.”
The story was well known throughout Reckless and by plenty of others in the rodeo world. Sunny Beckett sent her husband and business partner packing when his acute alcoholism nearly ruined them, personally and financially. What she didn’t tell him, or anyone else, was that she had been pregnant with their third child. Rather, she lied about the father’s identity, claiming he was some cowboy passing through.
Then, last summer, Liberty had accidentally discovered Mercer Beckett was her biological father and tracked him down. He used a reconciliation with her to worm his way back into the lives of his ex-wife and daughters.
One good thing had happened in the wake of Mercer’s return. Cassidy’s brother, Ryder, also came home. They still didn’t agree on their father—Ryder trusted their father’s sobriety and she didn’t—but otherwise the two of them had grown close during the last few months.
How could they not? Ryder was engaged to Cassidy’s best friend, Tatum Mayweather, after all. Cassidy hadn’t seen that one coming, but she was pleased for both her brother and best friend. They proved differences were superficial when it came to love.
Theirs was actually the second of two upcoming Beckett weddings. Liberty was also engaged. To Deacon McCrea, a former employee of the arena and now their legal counsel. Cassidy, conversely, remained single and planned to stay that way.
She’d been asked to be maid of honor at both affairs, the dates of which had recently been set for this summer and fall respectively. She would be pretty busy during the coming months, assisting with the thousand and one details, hosting bridal showers and making short day trips to pick out dresses.
Thank goodness she didn’t need to worry about her parents. Since his return, her father had made it clear he was still in love with her mother and intended to remarry her. So far, her mother was resisting. One of her parents, at least, was behaving sensibly.
“Well, I have no regrets.” Cassidy powered off the ten-key calculator and tore loose the paper tape.
“Hoyt has a right to know he’s a father,” her mother said.
“And Dad didn’t?”
“You deserve child support.”
“I don’t see the big deal. You didn’t get any from Dad for Liberty and managed just fine.”
Her mother compressed her lips in a show of impatience. “That’s not entirely true and you know it. He didn’t take any money for his share of the arena all those years—which is basically the same as paying child support.”
“He stole Ryder from us.”
“Ryder went to live with him when he was old enough to legally choose.”
Cassidy’s chest grew tight making it hard to breathe. “I won’t lose Benjie.”
And there it was. The crux of the matter. Cassidy’s greatest fear. What would happen if she told Hoyt about Benjie? Even if he didn’t come after her for some sort of custody, Benjie could one day decide he’d rather live with his father and leave her just like Ryder.
“Shane’s not stupid.” Her mother’s manner was less judgmental and more sympathetic. “He’s bound to put two and two together.”
“Not if I can help it.”
“You can’t keep Benjie hidden from him forever. They’ll meet eventually. What if Shane tells Hoyt?”
“I’ll lie if I have to.” Leave Reckless if necessary.
“You’ve been lucky so far. One day Benjie’s going to ask about his father, and you won’t be able to put him off like you have in the past.”
“I’ll figure something out.”
“Cassidy—”
“Believe me, Mom, I’ve weighed the pros and cons. I’m not ready to tell Benjie or Hoyt.”
Her mother sighed. “You didn’t always feel that way.”
No, she hadn’t. When she was eight months pregnant Cassidy had gone so far as to locate Hoyt and drive to where he was living, only to learn he was engaged to Cheryl, a young widow who’d lost her first husband unexpectedly. Putting herself in Cheryl’s shoes, Cassidy had turned around and driven back to Reckless. She wouldn’t be a home wrecker. Been there, done that, and she refused to compound the guilt she already bore.
“I came to my senses.”
As if reading Cassidy’s thoughts, her mother said, “You weren’t the reason I divorced your father.”
“I know.”
“Do you? Really?”
“He was a drunk. If you hadn’t divorced him, he’d have driven the arena into bankruptcy. I may have been ten, but I remember. Everything.”
The smell of alcohol clinging to him like a layer of heavy sweat. Finding him passed out in the back of his pickup truck behind the barn. Or on the living room couch if he managed to stagger inside. Once in the middle of the kitchen floor. Twice in the chaise lounge on the back patio when her mother had banished him from the house.
Worst of all were the outbursts, which, to this day, still rang in her ears. The yelling. The fights. The breaking down into gut-wrenching sobs, his and her mother’s. The constant apologies.
“He regrets the accident.”
Cassidy wheeled on her mother. “He could have killed me. And himself.”
“I’m not defending him.”
“Sounds like you are.” She wiped at the tears springing to her eyes, angry at herself for letting her emotions get the best of her.
“What’s important is that you weren’t hurt. Either of you. Just scared. No less than I was, trust me.”
Memories surfaced. They were never far away. Especially since her father’s return.
One night, shortly before her parents’ marriage imploded, her father fetched her from a friend’s house when her mother couldn’t get away. The people lived less than a mile away. Nonetheless, he shouldn’t have been driving. Cassidy refused to go with him at first. When he raised his voice, she acquiesced rather than have him cause a scene in front of her friend.
Misjudging the distance, he ran the truck into the well house. Granted, they weren’t going fast, twenty-five miles an hour at most, and the well house suffered the most damage. There was a small dent on the truck’s front fender. Cassidy’s seat belt saved her from injury.
When the truck rolled to a stop, she jumped out the door and sprinted the entire way to the house, yelling at her mother to make her father leave. Two weeks later, her mother did.
At first Cassidy had been glad. Good riddance. Then, seeing how miserable her mother and brother were, she was consumed by guilt. The feeling intensified when, two years later, Ryder left. When she was older, she’d wondered if her reaction to the accident had driven her mother into the arms of another man within days after her father left. Learning that was all a lie had affected Cassidy more than she let on.
“I put up with the drinking and the bad business decisions,” her mother continued. “But I couldn’t let him endanger my children. Once the trust is gone, there’s no getting it back.”
“You trust him now. At least, you act like you do. You let him purchase the bulls when you swore