More Than a Cowboy. Cathy Mcdavid

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СКАЧАТЬ 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.

      “Twenty-two years of sobriety is more than enough to prove he’s changed,” Liberty insisted. “I had the right to make my own decision regarding Mercer. Ryder did.”

      Sunny jerked involuntarily at the mention of her estranged son. Then, to Liberty’s shock, her mother burst into tears.

      Her fury instantly waned. It must have been heartbreaking for her mother to lose Ryder. And all her attempts to maintain contact with him had either been ignored or thrown back in her face. He resented their mother as much as Cassidy did their father—and Liberty was caught in the middle.

      The stranger Liberty saw across the table disappeared, and her mother once more sat there.

      “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know you miss Ryder and wish things were different. But that doesn’t change the fact you should have told me about Mercer being my father.”

      “I wanted to.” Sunny wiped her tears with a paper napkin from the holder on the table. “You have no idea how many times I tried.”

      “What stopped you?”

      “I lost my courage. I was so afraid you’d go looking for him.”

      Like Ryder. The truth at last. Liberty supposed she understood her mother’s fear. Losing one child had been difficult enough.

      “You think we would have had it so good if he’d been draining our bank account dry every month?” Cassidy interjected.

      For the first time, Sunny defended Mercer. “It wasn’t like that. He couldn’t have drained us dry. There were clauses in our property settlement agreement. The monthly profits had to be at a certain level or the full amount he was owed went back into the operating account to insure sufficient cash flow.”

      “In other words—” Liberty sent her sister a pointed look “—he cared about the arena and us and made sure we wouldn’t hit rock bottom again.”

      Cassidy huffed and leaned against the counter, her arms crossed. “Before you go awarding him a big shiny halo, just remember he wants the money now.”

      “He’ll take payments.”

      “You don’t know that.”

      “He won’t have a choice.”

      “Girls!”

      At their mother’s sharp outburst, both Liberty and Cassidy shut their mouths.

      “Why didn’t you put the money aside?” Liberty asked a moment later when she and her sister were both calmer. “Just in case he came to collect.”

      “I did at first.” Sunny was also calmer. “A couple hundred dollars a week. But Cassidy was competing on the rodeo circuit in those days. She needed money for a horse and training and a new saddle. With her gone so much, I was shorthanded and had to hire part-time help.”

      Barrel racing was the same as any other rodeo event. Decent winnings could be had at the championship level. Getting there, however, required money, and Sunny had footed the bill.

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