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,” Benjie hollered as if she’d been swallowed whole and not momentarily out of sight. “Can I go with Mr. Shane?”
The name was a compromise. Cassidy insisted her son address adults formally, one of the few holdovers from her father’s strict teachings. Shane, however, wanted Benjie to call him by his first name.
She stepped around the horse and into view. What if Shane asked Benjie about his father? Better she was there to intercede. Then again, what if her going sent Shane the wrong message about them? Cassidy couldn’t decide on the lesser evil.
“You’re welcome to join us,” Shane said affably. “If you’re worried about him.”
“I’m not worried.” Not about Benjie.
“Then come on. The more the merrier.”
“Um, I need to, ah...”
The woman on the thoroughbred leaned over her horse’s neck. “For Pete’s sake, go with him,” she said in a loud whisper. “Don’t ever turn down an invitation from a handsome man.”
Seventy, if she was a day, the woman was a regular at the Easy Money and one of their few English hunter-jumper riders. Rumor had it she’d been married—and divorced—four times.
“Mom,” Benjie pleaded.
Feeling pressured from all sides, Cassidy relented. “Okay, fine.”
“Good decision,” the woman said. “You won’t regret it.” Pulling on the reins, she turned her horse away and nudged him into a trot.
Wrong, Cassidy thought as she caught up with Shane and saw his satisfied grin. She regretted it already.
He walked beside his daughter, holding on to the side of Skittles’s bridle. He didn’t look over at Cassidy, which somehow irritated her all the more. What? Invite her and then ignore her? The next instant she reminded herself she couldn’t care less. She had no interest in him.
Luckily, or unluckily, depending on one’s opinion, no one was using the round pen. Benjie, familiar with the drill, entered the pen first and rode Rusty in a clockwise circle.
Cassidy tugged her short denim jacket snugger around her waist, the gesture the result of nerves and not the cool January breeze blowing in from the west.
“Daddy, I want to ride by myself,” Bria said, her eyes on Benjie. “I can do it.”
“In a minute. First, we need to get Skittles used to the pen.”
The old horse couldn’t be more used to the bull pen if he’d been born in it. Shane, Cassidy realized, was being protective, but not so protective he smothered Bria. He also engaged Benjie in friendly conversation. Her son responded as he always did to attention from cowboys at the arena. He lit up.
Did Benjie miss having a father in his life? Was she wrong to deny him?
“Race you.” He passed Bria at a slow, bumpy trot.
“No, Benjie,” Cassidy warned. She’d climbed the fence to a built-in bench seat, installed so parents and instructors could sit comfortably while monitoring the goings-on in the pen. “Bria isn’t ready to race yet.”
“But I want to,” the little girl protested and kicked Skittles in the sides. The saddle’s wide, thick cinch prevented her boots from making any real contact.
Like father, like daughter, Cassidy decided. The little girl was fearless. Shane had always been like that. The quality had earned him a world championship bull-riding title on three separate occasions. It had also darn near cost him his life.
Shane brought Skittles to a stop. “If you promise not to race,” he told Bria, “you can fly solo.”
The little girl stopped giggling in order to stare at him, an expression of bewilderment on her cherub face. “I’m not flying, Daddy. I’m riding.”
“Yes, you are. And doing well, I might add.”
He adjusted the reins, placing them firmly between her plump fingers. “Don’t let go and don’t move your hands all over the place. You’ll pull on Skittles’s mouth, and he won’t like it.”
Shane continued instructing his daughter for several minutes until she was fidgeting with excitement.
“Daddy,” she whined. “I’m ready.”
“All right.” He stepped back and let her go.
Cassidy could see the struggle on his face. As a parent, she understood what he was going through. It wasn’t easy, giving up control. Even, evidently, for Shane, who’d been a father only these last four months.
Bria completed her first circuit on her own with no mishaps. A second and third progressed just as smoothly, considering Benjie followed closely, daring her to go faster. Cassidy hadn’t been aware that she’d let her thoughts drift until the bench shifted beneath her. With a loud creak, Shane plopped down.
Right beside her. She hadn’t realized how small the seat was. Her pulse quickly soared. Really?
Cassidy pretended Shane’s proximity made no difference to her. “She’s a chip off the old block.”
Indeed, Bria took to horse riding as one might expect from the offspring of a rodeo champion.
“Not bad for a first time out.”
“Her mother doesn’t ride?” It seemed a reasonable question to Cassidy and not her being nosy, though she was.
“Never been on a horse.”
“Huh. I take it you didn’t meet her on the circuit.”
He leaned back, pushing his cowboy hat off his face and giving her a less obstructed view of his profile. His strong, rugged features were pronounced in the bright afternoon sun, as was his scar. Both stole her breath.
“Actually, I did. Right here. She and a friend came to the Wild West Days Rodeo.”
“Wow.” Cassidy hadn’t noticed his interest in anyone. Then again, she’d steered clear of Shane during the rodeos
