Page 24 of The Bull Rider & the Wedding Planner

“‘Lean on me’,” he sang softly. “I’ve got you, love.”

He looked to her mom, silently pleading with her to trust him and let him protect her. Their eyes caught and held for several long moments. Then Cassie gave a little whimper, stood, and hurried to him as well. Easton caught her in his other arm and pulled her tight to his chest. Cassie’s arms came around his back as naturally as they used to, and she clung to him.

Easton had everything he’d ever wanted in his grasp at that moment, but he knew this wasn’t about him and his longings.Something was terribly wrong. Cassie’s mother had been murdered. He had to right every wrong for these two. Nothing mattered but them.

They stood there for a few moments, holding onto each other, and he hoped he was imparting the comfort and protection they both needed. In those beautiful, drawn-out moments, something shifted within Easton. It was an earthquake, a movement of the earth’s plates.

Easton Coleville, former player and woman magnet, may have been rejected by Cassie, and more than once, but he knew them being together was right. He would leave behind any flippancy and selfishness. His complete devotion was to his Father above, Cassie, Presley, and his family. If he didn’t compete on one more bull’s back but had Cassie and Presley in his arms, his life, and his heart, he wouldn’t complain.

Cassie pulled back quicker than he would’ve liked and wiped at her eyes. “Sorry,” she murmured. “I’m a mess.”

“You don’t need to apologize to me.” He tried to give her his standard smirk, but it was half its normal wattage. “‘I’m here for you through the good and the bad,’” he sang Rick Trevino’s lyrics.” Then he lowered his voice and said, “I will heal any pain.”

She smiled, her eyes watery.

“Close the door, Easton,” his brother said, his blue eyes more serious than even Clint’s norm, and the sheriff was an expert at serious. “We need to talk.”

Easton obeyed, but as soon as he shut the door, Clint said to Cassie, “Should we have Presley sit with Mark and Carlsen for a few minutes?”

Cassie nodded as Presley protested, “I don’tleave my Easton.”

Easton couldn’t hide his smile at that declaration, but he wiped it away quickly at the gravity in Clint’s gaze. “Just for a few minutes, princess. Then we’ll be together again.” He looked down into Presley’s teal-blue eyes. He was as serious as his brother at this moment.

“You promise?” she asked.

“I promise.” Easton meant those words deeply. He held her gaze, praying her mom knew he meant his promise to her as well. She’d yelled at him and pushed him away just days before, but he was a sucker for Cassie every time and she would be his life’s focus. He would forgive and forget and promise her forever. If she’d agree.

“Otay.” Presley leaned into his shoulder as if resigned.

The warmth of this child and the responsibility he felt toward her and her mother was unlike anything he’d felt in his life. He’d never stopped loving Cassie, and now he loved her daughter. He would protect them with his life, do anything for them. He stole a quick glance at Cassie. Her gaze was warm on him. Was she done being angry with him? Their issues couldn’t be the focus in the face of her mother being murdered. These two must be in grave danger or Clint wouldn’t have called him. They’d talk through their past later. Right now, it was enough for him to commit to her in every way and for her to allow him to protect and strengthen her.

Easton carried Presley out into the open main room. “Mark, I need you to entertain a very special princess for a few minutes.”

Presley looked cautiously at the deputy.

Mark opened his arms. “I am the man for the job. Presley, I am the most fun dad and uncle on the entire earth. Do you know how to ride a horse yet, princess?”

“No.”

“This is your lucky day.”

Easton wanted to be the one to teach Presley how to ride a horse, but being unselfish meant doing what was best for Presley and Cassie at this moment.

She clung to his neck, and it was hard to let her go. He handed her over to Mark. The deputy turned and sat on a hard chair. He perched Presley on the edge of his knees and started into the silly song, “The little girl horse goes clickety clack, clickety clack, clickety clack,” as he bounced her on his knees.

Presley was at least smiling before Easton closed the door to Clint’s office. Mark was a tease and a fabulous father and uncle. He would be great with her.

Easton wanted to pick Cassie up and hold her again, but the air in the office was suddenly tight. He settled for sitting in the chair next to her and offering his hand. She looked from his hand to his face and then back again. More reluctantly than he would’ve hoped, she put her hand in his. He gently threaded their fingers together, clasped her hand in his, and rested their joined hands on his thigh.

She swallowed, and her eyes were bright as she studied him.

Clint cleared his throat, stealing her attention. That was all right. She was willingly holding Easton’s hand, and it appeared she was trusting him.

“Olivia Johnston was murdered,” Clint said without preamble. “We have every indication the perpetrator is Cassie’s ex-husband Baxter Churchill.”

Easton’s stomach clenched and his mind raced. Baxter Churchill was the idiot boss she’d cheated on him with. She’d married the guy and now Baxter was not only scaring her and her daughter, but he was murdering her mom?

What had his Cassie gone through, and whywould an angel like her choose a filthy scum like that? Manipulation. Mind games. Some kind of tricks had to be employed, or his Cassie would never have chosen that loser over him. Even still, he felt stiff and uncomfortable just thinking about Cassie in that scum’s arms and stressing about what she and Presley had endured.

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