Cathy Mcdavid - More Than a Cowboy

“He’s retiring next spring,” Deacon said. “That’s been his plan all along.”

Being a regular at the arena, Deacon would know. Walter often chatted about him and his wife moving to Wickenburg in order to be closer to their son.

“So, you’re getting rid of him early.” Cassidy glared at Mercer.

“Not at all.” He addressed her for the first time since she’d lit into him about her son. “Walter can stay on until he’s ready. I’m counting on him to show me the ropes.”

“But you’re demoting him.”

“His title and pay will remain the same,” Deacon responded. “But he’ll report to Mercer rather than your mother.”

“What’s his title?” There was no doubt to whom Cassidy referred.

“What it’s always been. Co-owner.”

That didn’t go over well. Cassidy stiffened, and Sunny’s lips thinned. Liberty caught herself balling her hands into tight fists.

“Your duties and those of Liberty will remain the same,” Deacon continued. “You’ll report to both your parents for their respective areas of operation. The rest of the staff will, as well. There’s a detailed listing of job duties in section three, article five.”

The rustle of papers filled the room as everyone flipped pages. After a moment of silence, the room erupted as question after question was fired at Deacon. He responded with clear, precise explanations. Occasionally, Mercer interjected. Most of their answers weren’t well received. Cassidy and Sunny constantly talked over each other.

Liberty alone was quiet, overwhelmed by the loud voices and the document’s wordy legalese. When had it stopped raining?

At the mention of her name, her head shot up. “I beg your pardon.”

“Tomorrow morning.” Her mother laid the agreement aside. “After your lessons.”

“What about tomorrow morning?”

“Showing Deacon around. I can’t make it. The hay delivery is scheduled for nine. After that, Mercer and I will be meeting with Dr. Houser.”

The Becketts’ veterinarian. He regularly visited to check on all new livestock, administer vaccinations, deworm the horses and calves, treat injuries and a dozen other reasons. Mercer, as the head of livestock, would want to oversee both the hay delivery and Dr. Houser’s visit.

Was her mother possibly okay with all of this?

“Deacon’s been coming here for months,” Liberty protested. “He doesn’t need to be shown around.”

“A tour of the operations,” he said.

Clearly, she’d missed a vital part of the discussion.

“Before I can finalize the partnership agreement,” he explained, “I need to have a thorough understanding of how each individual aspect of the arena operations functions and what kind of revenue it generates.” He consulted his tablet. “Rodeos. Livestock leasing. Horse boarding. Classes. Teaching clinics. Team penning and bucking competitions. I’ll also require access to the office and all the files. Your mother said you’d be available.”

“Me,” she answered flatly.

His brows rose. “Is there a problem?”

“Problem?” This could not be happening to her. “Let’s see. Where do I begin?”

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