by Anne Carrole
Both men let go a whoop, and as the bull’s head swung in Ty’s direction, the two men swung their ropes—and missed. Within a heartbeat, Ty had regrouped and swung again, this time catching on the black bull’s smallish horns. A flick of the bull’s head, and the rope was dislodged. In a blink, the bull’s attention refocused on her. And then his head lowered.
“Run right.” Ty’s voice thundered over the clacking of hooves, and Mandy realized he’d maneuvered Willow between her and the bull.
Her feet felt like lead weights, but she followed his directions, aware that Willow was now blocking the sight of the bull as she ran alongside her horse.
From behind she heard Harold whooping and the clattering of several pairs of hooves against the hard pavement.
She could feel her chest squeeze as her legs continued to propel her. She gasped for breath.
“Stop,” called Ty.
Willow pulled up with such abruptness, Mandy was almost past the horse by the time she could come to a halt. Ty leaned over and threw an arm out to encircle her. He freed a stirrup for her use, and she fitted her foot in and grabbed on to him and slung her leg over Willow’s rump. Atop her horse, behind the saddle, she wrapped her arms around Ty’s warm body clothed in soft cotton and leaned her head against his back while she took a deep, lung-filling breath that pulled in Ty’s scent.
“You okay?” Ty called, urging Willow into a trot.
“Yes,” she shouted, all too aware there was still danger. “We’ve got to get him. Before he hurts someone.”
Two more mounted cowhands had ridden into the parking lot. The agitated bull was now prancing between some cars. Whatever few people had been out in the lot had scattered for shelter, and one of the cowboys had gone to the lot entrance to stop any additional vehicles from coming in.
It took several attempts and much whooping and circling, but finally Ty and Harold were able to get a rope around the bull’s neck. They pulled it taut between them, and the bull stopped in his tracks.
Who knew the man could rope?
“Yes, I can rope,” Ty said as he twisted back to look at her as if he’d read her mind.
“You ready, Ty? We can’t afford any slack with this one,” Harold called.
“Ready.”
It took a bit to get the bull back into the pen, but by keeping the animal off balance between the two, the bull had given up fighting and allowed himself to be led. By the time they penned him, he was pretty docile.
Two cowboys stood by, ready to lock the gate.
Once the bull was secure, Mandy slid off Willow and checked the lock herself.
Looking at the two cowboys and the others who had wandered back, she stood with her hands on her hips. Fear had given way to irritation. “I want to know what happened here. Why did this bull get out? I checked these pens myself just a half hour ago. Which means someone had to open it. I want to know who. And why?” She kept her voice calm and even and hoped no one saw the lingering tremor in her hand as she brushed a strand of hair out of her face.
As if for emphasis, the bull, safely behind bars, charged the side of the pen, creating a clatter. Mandy jumped as her heart landed in her throat.
“We were watering the horses, Mandy.” Doug McClane spoke for him and his partner, Slim Matthews. “The bulls were done first. I don’t know why anyone would even be over here now.”
“That would suggest that someone was up to no good—at Prescott Rodeo’s expense,” Mandy said, trying to ignore the bull, which once again rattled the pen. “You guys ask around,” she told the handful of cowhands who had assembled. “Let me know what you hear.
“Harold, maybe a cowhand should be assigned to watch over these pens. If someone is causing trouble, we need to be prepared.” Ty said as he slid off Willow.
Harold leaned forward in his saddle. “Saunders,” he called to the tall, thin man who usually worked the livestock gates in the arena. “You’re on duty until I relieve you.” Harold turned his attention back to Ty. “That was some pretty good cowboying out there, Ty.”
Ty acknowledged the compliment with a nod as Harold moved out.
Mandy waited as Ty secured Willow to a post, the mare’s coat matted in sweat. He gave the horse a pat on her nose as he whispered words to the animal that she couldn’t hear.
Ty’s strides were purposeful as he walked toward Mandy.
She could still feel the tension needles pricking her limbs. It no longer felt like her legs would hold her weight. Aftershock was setting in.
“You all right, honey?” Ty asked, stopping a few feet from her as if waiting for some signal from her.
At that moment she needed comfort and his strength, and she walked right into the arms he stretched out to her.
“I’ve been better,” she whispered against his shirt as she leaned on him, no longer trusting her legs. “Thanks for helping. That bull might have hurt someone.”
“It might have hurt you. What were you doing out there?”
“Keeping my bull from going after anyone else.”
“So you’re some kind of bullfighter now?” He sounded beyond annoyed, as if she’d done something wrong.
“I did what I had to do. If It’s Nasty had hurt anyone, we wouldn’t have a chance of coming back next year. As it is, we may not.”
“Didn’t it go well with the committee?” He squeezed her tighter.
“We’ll be bidding against Stan for next year. The committee is divided.”
“You mention the sweetener?”
She brushed another strand of hair from her face. “I did, though we keep giving that sweetener and we’ll overwork our premier stock.”
“You know you about gave me a heart attack.” She felt his moist lips on her forehead.
“Did I? I ’bout gave myself one.”
He had been there for her this time. But he wasn’t sticking around. And he had the power to ruin her life.
She looked up at him, and his warm brown eyes swept over her.
“I’m going to kiss you. And you’re going to let me. Right here, in front of whoever wants to watch, Mandy.”
She pulled back, but he didn’t give her more than a second before his lips claimed hers in an anything but gentle kiss. It swamped her senses like some hot whirlwind, scrambling her mind and leaving her dizzy.
When he’d finished creating havoc, he stepped back, and all manner of whooping and hollering started as applause erupted. Over the din, Mandy heard her name being called.
“I’m all right, Mom,” she shouted as the small crowd dispersed.
Now that was a lie. Her body may have been all right, but her heart was in major trouble. She could lie to herself and blame being off balance on the encounter with the bull. But that wasn’t it. Ty was the only male who had done this to her.
“My God, what happened? Harold said a bull got out.” Sheila scooped Mandy away from Ty into her loving arms and squeezed her tight.
“I’m fine.”
“That bull put away?” Sheila asked, looking around as if she expected the creature to materialize right by her side.
“Yes. Harold and Ty corralled it,” Mandy explained as she took a step back. She was embarrassed to be the center of attention for an audience of her rodeo workers. How was she ever to gain their respect if people kept fussing over her? And kissing her?
“Your daughter decided to be a hero,” Ty said, shaking his head.
“I did what any responsible owner of an escaped bull would do. What should I have done, let him stampede some poor patron in the parking lot?”
Ty stared at her like she was addlebrained. “Called for backup.”
“I did call. Why do you think Harold was already saddled and the other two cowboys rode in?”
Her mother looped her arm around Mandy’s. “I’m taking you to the hotel. You need a break.”
Mandy didn’t protest. She was being bombarded by emotions she couldn’t sort out right now, and the cause was standing there frowning.
“Well, I’m glad you’re okay, but Ty was right—what were you thinking?” her mother said before she took a sip from the hotel restaurant’s ivory mug.
Mandy wrapped her hand around her warm cup of tea. She’d have preferred coffee, but in her mother’s book, hot tea was the only thing that helped you through an ordeal.
“I had a duty, as the owner of that bull, to protect people.”
Her mother shook her perfectly coiffed blond head, as if her daughter didn’t understand the lesson. “That kind of protecting is for a man to do, Mandy. A woman, any woman, is no match for a two-ton bull.”
“He’s PRC’s responsibility. That means he’s my responsibility.” But she couldn’t deny that little tingle low in her stomach and the warmth flowing through her veins knowing Ty had protected her. Like a knight charging, he’d come to rescue her—as if he cared—about her. And then he’d kissed her. And it hadn’t been a peck on the cheek but a full-out, tongue-in-mouth, hard-to-breathe kiss.
She didn’t know what to make of it. Maybe it was the adrenaline of the moment. That had to be it. She couldn’t get her hopes up, because she feared this time the fall would be too far for recovery. Her mother’s lips pursed. “You’re stubborn, Mandy, just like your grandfather—and not his best quality.”
“I won’t refute either statement. But I am who I am.” And that meant she had to stay grounded and not romanticize a relationship that had no future. He was still going to sell her company if the numbers said so. A man who cared for her would never, ever do that. A man who just wanted sex to pass the time wouldn’t hesitate. Ty was definitely the latter.
“Yes, well…I didn’t bring you here to talk about PRC.” She set her mug down and brushed her fingers across the cream-colored tablecloth as if trying to dismiss the fabric’s soft wrinkles. She raised her head and looked straight at Mandy.
“I saw that kiss. Is there something you want to tell me?” Her mother’s eyes were wide with interest.
“Like what?” she asked, knowing full well what was on her mother’s mind. She just wasn’t sure she should share it yet, considering she didn’t understand what it was. She hadn’t a clue how to describe her relationship with Ty. And having sex with him had just muddied things further.
“Have you two…you know?” her mother pressed.
Mandy closed her eyes, knowing there was no escape. She opened them. Sheila leaned in.
“Yes. But it doesn’t mean anything.”
Shelia shifted back with a way-too-satisfied expression on her face. “That kiss I witnessed sure looked like it meant something.”
And it had felt like it meant something. But Mandy knew differently. “To Ty it’s just a way to pass the time.” Just saying those words sent a pinch to her heart. But it was the truth.
“Really? Could have fooled me. If this is how you two are after just a week or two, I’d place a bet on having a still-married daughter and maybe a grandchild in a year from now.”
If her mother only knew how much those words pained her.
“You’re whistling in a hail storm. There’s a canyon-size gap between what Ty and I have been forced into and a real marriage.” And Ty’s focus on selling made it an unbridgeable one. Too bad, because if Ty wasn’t so damn single minded in his pursuit of the almighty dollar, she’d seen some real promise in him after the visit with Trace and little Delanie. She’d gotten a glimpse, however small, of a man who could care about someone else, of a man capable of tenderness and in need of it.
“I’d like grandchildren, is all.”
Mandy leaned back against her chair. Her temple pulsed like a hammer gun popping nails. “And I hope to give you a grandchild someday. After I find the right man.” Whenever that might be, if that ever might be. What were her odds of finding a man who could share her dream for Prescott? And someone who would be good father material?
What if she never found Mr. Right? Or he turned out to be Mr. Wrong? She might have better luck finding a sperm donor than finding the right man. The pounding in her head got stronger.
Chapter 16
Mandy watched as Tucker prepared to mount his bronc. Running a rodeo where her brother competed was a mixed blessing. She was happy to see him, given he got home infrequently during the rodeo season, which seemed to last longer and longer these days. But she could barely watch him ride for fear he would get injured.
This time he was bucked off before the eight-second buzzer for a no score, which meant he’d be heading out for another rodeo.
“Can you check on the next rider,” she said to McClane, who had been helping with the gates. She handed him her roster. “I want to talk with Tucker.”
Tucker had headed to the locker room, and Mandy hurried to catch up. Ty was back by the loading pens with Harold, no doubt assuring that no livestock got out.
“Tuck?” she called through the open doorway. Inside the room several cowboys were either getting ready or packing up, depending on their spot on the roster. She spotted Libby’s husband, Chance Cochran, among the ones getting ready. Libby had found herself a good one, it appeared. Though their path had been a rocky one, they were now happily married and expecting a child. It didn’t get better than that.
“Hey, Chance, good to see you.” Chance was already up in the top twenty, giving him a shot at making the NRF by the end of the year. After he missed out last year due to an injury, she knew how important every rodeo was to him.
“Mandy. I was going to look for you. Libby sends her regards. Says she’s waiting to hear—only she didn’t say about what.” He looked at her quizzically with those steel-gray eyes of his. He was a handsome cowboy, a bit tall for a saddle bronc rider, but lean and muscular.
“Tell her I’ve a lot to say when I get back.” Mandy could really use both Libby’s and Cat’s advice again. “Did you see Tucker?”
Chance nodded toward an interior room. “Think he’s in there. He had some tough luck today.”
That meant he was probably having a beer with some of the other guys who also didn’t make their time.
Chance slipped on his black hat, his smile wide. “Time to saddle up.”
“Good luck.”
Chance nodded as he strode out of the doorway.
She bustled through the few men in the locker room and glanced in the interior room. Sure enough, there was Tuck and four other guys, beers in hand. Upon spotting her, Tuck sauntered over. “Did you see my ride?”
Of course she had. She was right there. “Better luck next time.” It was all she could think to say about it. “I wanted to talk to you about the ranch.”
“I told you I would never want to sell, no matter the money.” He tipped the bottle back and took a sip.
“I know, but this is about the cattle. I think Ty’s brother could use some stock, and I was thinking that, if you were agreeable, we might thin out the Angus cattle a bit and sell him some heifers at a good price. He’s got some issues he’s dealing with…”
Before she could finish, Tucker laid a hand on her shoulder. “You know I’m good with whatever you decide.”
Tucker always seemed to be on the same page with her, and it was a blessing that as siblings they complemented each other rather than competed with each other. “Mom wanted me to remind you to stop by the hospitality tent tonight before you leave.” Her mother never watched Tucker ride. It was too stressful, she said.
“I will. But I thought you should know Mitch Lockhart is here. He wanted me to tell you he wants to talk with you.”
With all that happened, she’d had little time to think about Mitch—or regret what had happened.
“Think he knows about my marriage?”
“It’s the talk of the rodeo.”
“I doubt that.”
“Well, that and the bull getting loose and you crazy enough to take it on. What the hell were you thinking?”
Mandy inwardly sighed. She didn’t want to explain herself yet again, so she ignored his question. “I’ll keep an eye out for him,
but I’m too busy to go chasing after him.”
“I’m just the messenger.”
“See Mom,” she said and then took her leave. One more aggravation to look forward to on an already aggravating day.
* * *
“Is it true?”
Mandy whipped around, startled by a familiar deep voice. She’d been finishing up feeding the broncs while Ty and Harold checked on the bulls and cattle pens. It was late, and the light from the spotlights provided an overlay of shadows among slices of light in the night as bugs danced under the warmth of the lamps. Most contestants, if they stayed for the next day, were out by the trailers, either sound asleep or shooting the breeze with other entrants. A few lucky cowboys might even share a bed with one of the barrel racers. Rodeo life was a transient one and had its share of casual hook-ups.
Mitch stood before her, a brown cowboy hat covering his dark-blond hair. He was clad in a plaid shirt and denims, fancy cowboy boots on his feet. She’d watched him compete, but there had not been time, gratefully, to say a word to him.
She still resented the way he’d unceremoniously dumped her, and at her grandfather’s funeral, no less. She’d once found him handsome, but today he had such a sullen expression on his face, she felt nothing. Absolutely nothing.
“Hello to you too, Mitch.” She brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and steeled herself for the interrogation.
“Is it true?” Mitch glared at her, his fists resting on his hips. He was husky and tall, all muscle and bone. Not an ounce of fat on him. The build of a tie-down roper. “You pulled my sponsorship?” He practically snarled the accusation.
“My grandfather sponsored you as a favor to me. I no longer wanted the favor.”
“I didn’t think you’d be that petty. I thought this was a business relationship.”
“Based on the premise of a personal relationship—and nothing more. Prescott doesn’t sponsor cowboys. We supply them.” Given the anger stampeding across his face, she decided to forgo mentioning that his standing had fallen so low that even if Prescott did provide sponsorship money to cowboys, he wouldn’t be on the list.