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Roped in. Nice and neat and tight. Yep, that was how Ryder’s ribcage felt.
An invitation to dinner with his longtime friends the McCalls wasn’t new or out of the question. Having Cassidy there, sitting opposite him, made him highly aware of everything about her, though.
Here she let down her guard, laughing with gusto and ease with her cousins. Gone was the weariness in her shadowed eyes from earlier. Now a twinkle came often and stayed longer.
The pale strip of bandage at her hairline was the only reminder of the impact earlier. Well, to her, that was. Now, to him, he still felt out of sorts with her there, invading his small hometown and his personal space, after all these years.
And Molly had that admiration society thing going. It proved much easier to allow his little one to fan girl Cassidy from a distance. Whenever she’d come on TV on one of those entertainment or award shows, he’d leave the room.
If he were alone, he could turn off the radio or twist the knob to get another station when her oh so familiar husky voice slid over him like honey, singing one of those soul-tugging lost love songs she’d written.
But there was only so much he could block out. Some things, like her devastating throat surgery and her lengthy recuperation time—which should have been at an exotic locale right now—filtered in.
Years of avoiding her meant he kept his sanity.
Not so much now.
Especially not when Molly had met her hero and didn’t want to let her go.
What the hey with the Christmas bride thing? She’d said it once in the last two weeks and he’d let it go in one ear and out the other since his little magpie loved to chitchat about all things big or small. But today, in a few short hours, she’d brought it up in front of Cassidy, twice.
Concern grew bigger and wider now that Molly seemed transfixed by everything and anything Cassidy did or said.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Molly—seated beside him—imitate Cass, picking up her glass of milk at the same time, taking a sip, and then gingerly placing it back down again. Then how she dabbed her napkin at the corner of her mouth and smoothed the linen fabric back in her lap.
His little girl didn’t do that. Ever.
She blew bubbles with the straw in her milk every night. And she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand until he corrected her.
Drops of sheer panic jumped in his gut, making him sick with worry. He had to protect Molly from getting hurt, because her hero would not stick around. Ryder knew that from experience.
All things Cassidy just became a huge problem.
Looking at Cassidy intently across the large table littered with nearly empty dessert dishes, he noted how she touched her throat again in mid-laugh, halting to check and then swallow hard.
Mild concern grew to alarm for her. Her voice. No, she couldn’t lose it all. Talent didn’t even begin to explain the gift she had. Cassidy was a powerhouse with her songwriting, singing, and performing.
Ryder shouldn’t care what happened to her. Dang it all, but he did.
Her gaze drifted and then landed on his. Her eyes widened, making his heart thump when she didn’t break the stare.
Something drew him and he leaned a tad closer. An electric current passed between them, crackling in the charged air.
Heat rolled through him. He didn’t like it one bit.
The physical pull tumbled him back in time to being on the rodeo circuit and their schedules crossing. The corner of his mouth tugged up at the powerful memories.
He’d flirted with her, liking how she gave him sass. Every time he’d asked her out, she’d turned him down. Flat. He had kept trying. For weeks, it had been building up. Anticipation had teased him.
And then he’d had a losing streak for days on end. Bucked off before his eight seconds, battered and bruised, Ryder had taken it hard.
Before his next ride, he’d found a quiet spot in the stock barn, plopped down on a hay bale, and rested his arms on his thighs. With his head down and his mind focused on the upcoming bull he’d drawn, running through the ride, every expected and unexpected twist and turn, he’d noted the red boots landing in his line of vision.
He jerked his head up and found her blue-gray gaze on him and a half smile on her luscious lips. Sitting up straight, he took her in, all five-foot-four beautiful Cassidy in her tight jeans and tucked in button-downed black shirt hugging her curves.
“Hey, cowboy.”
His breath stayed trapped in his chest. “Hey, gypsy girl.” A coil of desire roped through him, snapping him to life.
“Deal is, you”—she pointed at his chest—“win tonight and you get to take me”—she pointed to herself—“out for that steak dinner you’ve been wanting to do.”
“All I have to do is win?” He smiled wide. That bull doesn’t stand a chance now.
Cassidy leaned down—her intoxicating scent tickling all of his senses—and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. He thought he’d died right there and then. She giggled and then sauntered away, turning once so she looked over her shoulder. “That was for good luck, that’s if you were wondering, cowboy.”
Ryder jumped to his feet, hooting and hollering.
Less than an hour later, he’d dedicated his win to none other than Cassidy James McCall.
That evening, with her in a sexy, slinky electric blue dress and her red cowgirl boots on, he claimed his prize with a slow, deep wet kiss that he’d never recovered from.
Dang his gypsy girl for rocking his world!
“Can we talk?”
“We’re not now?” Cassidy didn’t have to turn to know Ryder stood behind her—less than a yard away—as she leaned against the back porch post.
Stars twinkled in the dark sky, taking her breath away at the stunning sight. His outdoorsy scent drifted to her on the night breeze. She shivered. From being close or the sudden chill between them after all that heat at the table? She still shook from his bold, intense stare. What had he been thinking?
His boot steps scraped on the wooden floor as he drew near and then put a hand on the post above her head.
Warmth bathed her. Another quiver shot through her middle. Another ache.
You’ve got your answer, girl. It’s him.
So close, she could feel the impression of him there, his chest near her back.
“It’s Molly, isn’t it?” She wanted this over and done.
“How’d you guess?”
“Not hard to figure out. She’s adorable, by the way. Cute, funny, a real cowgirl princess.” Why did her eyes tear up?
“That she is.”
“Wh-what happened?” Maybe if she knew, she’d put Ryder Hadley out of her mind once and for all. Yep, wishing for a miracle again!
He stayed silent for so long Cassidy thought he wouldn’t answer. So much for clarity.
“My wife died.” It came out flat and hollow.
Her heart clutched. “I’m sorry.” He’d loved someone else, but he’d lost her, too. Would he ever find someone who stayed?
“Just a year after Molly was born.”
Now it seemed as if a mule kicked her in the chest. Cassidy wanted to double over for both Ryder and his daughter. “That’s just awful, Ryder.” Her voice cracked. She swallowed to moisten her throat, hoping to get the lump of sawdust down before it choked her.
“Molly... never really knew her mother. Just the pictures and stories is all that’s left. All she has is me. Half of what her friends have.”
The throb in his tone made her ache for him. Broken. Suffering. The longing to give his child what she wanted and needed fought with protecting her from more hurt.
“She’s got an enormous case of hero worship where you’re concerned—”
“Don’t you worry none, you hear?” She cut him off before he could deliver the final blow. Cassidy swiped a hand over her cheeks and straightened from the post before she turned to face him. “I’ll make sure she knows this is all my fault and not yours. That the road keeps calling me away.”
He stilled, as if frozen in place. Then Ryder shoved away. “Just so we’re on the same page this time, Cassidy.”
There was something so painfully sweet about Cassidy taking the hit for him that Ryder sucked in a sharp breath as she strolled on by him and back in the house. The screen door and then the kitchen door closed with a deafening click.
“Well, that about summed it up, didn’t it?” Left McCall came out of the shadows. His miniature horse got up and clip-clopped alongside of him as they drew near.
Ryder tensed. “You heard.”
“Taking a breather and didn’t want to surprise Cassidy and then you. So, Sweet Potato and I were just minding our own business. But it doesn’t take a genius to figure out something went on with you and Cass years ago. Sweet on each other, I’d say.”
“Thanks for the meal, Gramps. Time to take Molly home for the night.”
“On foot?”
He’d forgotten about his truck. How could he? His one and only means of transportation probably wouldn’t see the light of day again. He had to check with Clyde at the tow place in town and get back with his insurance company. Cassidy forced the sense right out of him. “I’ll ask one of your grandsons for a lift.”
“I’d take you myself, but the eyes are going and still not one hundred percent yet from the heart attack and surgery.”
“You need to rest, especially that matchmaking mind of yours.” He tried to grin at the older man, but it was stiff and forced as he faced him.
“Now those are fighting words, Ryder.” Gramps chuckled. “I’ll have you know, I did not force anyone into anything they didn’t want themselves.”
“If you say so.” Doubt tore through him. Left and his sister were some of the worst or best matchmakers in town.
“There someone goes again. I did not have a bet with Sissy over whose boys would get married first.”
Yeah, you did. Ryder heard it from Gramps’s nephews themselves months ago. The friendly teasing between siblings turned into shocking reality for the McCall grandsons. The Laramie brothers were scared their mother would come after them next. With good reason, too.
“One thing I ask of everyone I know is don’t hurt my little girl.”
“As if I would or anyone else would.” Gramps sighed.
“Not intentionally.” I know that. People in Honor were good to both his daughter and him.
“Molly’s about the sweetest thing this side of Texas. We want her happy.”
“So, you admit it then.”
“Don’t be going putting words in my mouth now. I know you got your hands full trying to get your ranch running again and building that new house for Molly and you ’cause the old one isn’t much fit for her.”
Ryder didn’t want to be reminded of his many failures. Providing a decent home to raise his precious daughter in was a top priority. Trying to figure out girl things was like learning a foreign language to him. Clothes? Hair? Fragile feelings?
“No worries.” He tipped his hat at the older man. “Thank you again. I’ll catch a ride—”
“Really, son? I’d say you leave with the one who brought you. Cassidy. Think you can ask her nicely? You know, it will give her a chance to let Molly down easy like.”
Blowing out a breath, Ryder couldn’t discount the opportunity. However, Molly might not be all that receptive at the moment. “You drive a hard bargain.”
“That I do, son.”
Why did he get the distinct feeling Gramps wouldn’t listen when it came to Cassidy in the future?
