The Bull Rider's Son. Cathy McDavid

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       Chapter Three

      “I sure appreciate the use of ole Skittles.” Shane tugged on the brim of Benjie’s too-big cowboy hat. “I know it’s rough sometimes, letting someone else ride your horse.” He lifted his daughter and planted her on Skittles’s broad back, then faced Benjie again. “Bria will treat him right, I promise.”

      “It’s okay.” The boy kicked at the ground with the toe of his boot, leaving behind a large gouge in the dirt. “I can ride Rusty.”

      Cassidy bit her lower lip to keep herself from speaking. She knew how much her son disliked riding the potbellied, swaybacked mule. Not because Rusty was mean or difficult or stubborn, as were many of his breed. But because he wasn’t a horse. That, in Benjie’s opinion, made him the object of ridicule from his peers. Like a kid forced to wear no-name sneakers while everyone else in school owned expensive, celebrity-endorsed athletic shoes.

      Cassidy had been getting plenty of flak from Benjie this past school semester. He complained nonstop about his discount store footwear. The thing was, she didn’t have money to spare for nonessentials.

      Her mother’s words came back to haunt her. If she told Hoyt about Benjie, she’d be able to collect child support from him. Possibly for the years since Benjie’s birth.

      No, no, no. She wasn’t about to share, much less risk losing, custody of her son. And Hoyt would no doubt insist on some form of custody.

      “You need a leg up, too?” Shane asked Benjie.

      “I got it.” Nimble as a monkey, Benjie grabbed the side of the saddle and scrambled up onto Rusty’s back.

      “Good job.”

      Though Benjie would argue differently, Skittles was barely better than the mule. One of the arena’s oldest mounts, the horse’s slow, steady gait and docile personality made him perfect for a novice like Bria. Truthfully, Benjie was ready for a more advanced horse. But he loved Skittles and was loath to part with his pal.

      “I want to go, Daddy,” Bria exclaimed gleefully and jiggled her turquoise cowboy boots.

      A tad on the chubby side, she sported a generous mop of curly brown hair and an impish grin that reminded Cassidy a lot of Shane.

      “Okay, okay. Give me a second.” Shane patted Benjie’s leg. “You want to ride in the arena or come with us to the round pen?”

      “With you.” Benjie gazed longingly at Skittles, not at Bria, who was combing her fingers through the old horse’s stringy mane.

      “If it’s okay with your mother.” Shane glanced at Cassidy, his green eyes twinkling.

      She knew at once he’d been aware of her scrutiny the entire time and said nothing. Guess she wasn’t nearly as clever as she thought.

      Rather than avoiding him, as was her plan when he’d first arrived, she’d gone about the arena with a business-as-usual approach these past few days. She refused to let him think their kiss had been anything other than mild and meaningless.

      Truth be told, it had rocked her to her core. She couldn’t remember a time when a simple peck on the cheek had turned her limbs to liquid.

      Maybe her mother was right when she said Cassidy had gone too long without dating. What other reason could there be for her racing heart every time he neared?

      Cassidy’s view of Shane, Bria and Benjie was obstructed when a woman astride a leggy thoroughbred rode up beside her.

      “Cassidy, dearie, can you help me adjust my stirrups? They’re a little long.”

      “Sure,” she answered automatically and did as requested.

      “Mom,” СКАЧАТЬ