by Anne Carrole
“And not doing a very good job at that, given the incident with the bull today.”
“Things happen.”
“Like you getting hitched to that guy you called an SOB? Didn’t take you long to recover from our breakup, did it? Only I don’t see no ring on your finger.”
His comment about the ring bothered her more than it should have. “I married Ty Martin.”
His gaze roved over her like he was checking for signs of pregnancy. Not the only one who had done so, but it rankled more from him.
“You told me you hated the guy.”
At the time she had. Despite everything, she couldn’t say that now.
“I’ve no more intention of explaining my decisions to you than you have of explaining why you dumped me little more than an hour after we put my grandfather’s body in the ground.” And this was the type of guy who filled too much of the rodeo arena. The type of guy she was likely to meet in her line of work. It didn’t bode well for life after Ty.
“Obviously you didn’t care that much, because you got married like a week later, so don’t go acting like it’s a big thing. But I need that sponsorship money. I’m in the middle of the season. It was a bitchy thing to do, Mandy.”
“Is there a problem here?”
Mandy jumped at the smooth, cold sound of Ty’s voice. He must have come from behind the corrals.
Ty didn’t so much as glance at Mandy. His focus was solidly on Mitch as he walked forward, slow and steady, determined and purposeful. The light caught the streaks of dust that accented his jeans. Sweat marked areas of his white Prescott shirt. With his battered Stetson and scuffed boots, he looked the epitome of the working cowboy.
“Mitch Lockhart, my husband, Ty Martin.” This time the introduction sounded familiar, normal.
Neither man reached out to shake hands.
“Yeah, I got a problem. The problem is that Prescott Rodeo Company canceled my sponsorship in midseason. That’s a piss-poor way to do business.”
“I’m heading up Prescott, and I decided to cancel your sponsorship.”
“No doubt after instructions from your wife.” Mitch’s face twisted in an ugly expression. “It’s all over the circuit that Prescott is in trouble and going on the auction block. Couldn’t happen to a more worthy rodeo supplier. Thanks for screwing me, Mandy—literally and figuratively.” He spit on the ground before turning and walking back into the darkness toward the trailer area.
“So that’s Mitch Lockhart,” Ty said, his eyebrows raised as they both watched Mitch walk away. “He seems like a real dickhead.”
Mandy didn’t like the description, especially since it reflected on her taste in men, but she couldn’t exactly disagree with it.
Ty turned around. “Is that what a trophy boyfriend looks like?”
Mandy didn’t mean to laugh, but the edges of her mouth turned up, and it just gurgled out. “Touché, Mr. Martin.”
Mandy hesitated at the door to the hotel room as Ty lugged their two suitcases through the entryway. There sat one king-sized bed covered in white bed linens and sporting tons of pillows. It seemed her life these days began and ended with hotel rooms. Unfortunately, these hotel rooms were filled with a man she found increasingly attractive—even if he was so wrong for her.
Sex with Ty had definitely complicated things—at least for her. She’d been hoping she could be like him—take it for what it was and not wish or expect something more. Considering how she’d felt about him just a week ago, that shouldn’t have been a problem. But in a short time, things had changed.
And it had her thinking about even bigger changes. Something that would change every aspect of her life, for the better. Something that would give her life meaning beyond Prescott.
Ty turned to look behind him as he set the luggage down. “What’s the matter?”
“I’m taking a shower and going right to bed. It’s been a long, eventful day.” And a confusing one. She needed space and time to think. “Stan, the bull, and then Mitch…” And you, she thought. She let go of the hotel door, and it slammed closed behind her.
Ty frowned as he doubled back to her. He seemed to take up the whole room as he crooked a finger under her chin and stared at her as if he was trying to figure out his own puzzle.
“If it’s about selling the company, Stan Lassiter did mention a figure today. But it was so low, Mandy, I told him no.”
A seed of hope lodged inside of her. “So you’re not selling Prescott?”
“Not at that price. I don’t need an analysis to know it’s too low. And given the state of the economy, you may be fretting about nothing. A the end of six months, the company could still be yours, and the business, I promise, will be on firm footing.”
“If there is even a chance…”
“You know I can’t promise, but if the other stock contractors think like Lassiter, you’ll have nothing to worry about. I won’t surprise you. You’ll be kept informed every step of the way. Trust me.”
Trust was something she couldn’t afford to give—not to Ty. Yet, part of her wanted to. Part of her wanted a happily ever after. Not selling Prescott would be that happily ever after—only now she wanted something more.
How to tell him? And would he even listen?
Chapter 17
“Mandy, we love you, but you’ve got to stop calling these emergency meetings,” Cat said as she looked over at her son sitting next to her at the table in the spacious McKenna ranch house kitchen. “My mom’s not always available, and I can’t get a sitter on a moment’s notice.”
A toy truck, a light saber, and several superhero action figures were strewn across the wood floor—all attempts to keep Jake busy while Cat had manned the outdoor grill and put dinner on the table.
Mandy felt the flush in her cheeks. Cat was right. She wasn’t being a considerate friend. But she was desperate, and as soon as she’d returned from Utah that Sunday evening, she’d pleaded with her friends to join her for dinner, leaving Ty to eat alone. Because Cat couldn’t get a sitter and her mother was at a church meeting, Cat had been nice enough to invite them to her house for grilled hamburgers and hot dogs.
She was grateful because this was something she couldn’t or didn’t want to decide on her own.
“I apologize to both of you,” she said, looking first at Cat and then at Libby, who was tucking into her second hamburger, Mandy and Cat having already finished. “And to you, Jake.”
Jake, upon hearing his name, sent Mandy a big smile as he waved a french fry he’d plucked from his plate, leaving behind, momentarily, a hot dog cut up into little pieces. With his big brown eyes, blond hair, and cherub face, he was sure to be a heartbreaker when he grew up—apparently just like his daddy had been.
“Ice cream?” he asked.
“After you eat your dinner,” Cat replied with a sigh. “I’ve become very adept at using bribery,” she said unapologetically. “Can you color a picture?” Cat nudged the coloring book and crayons toward him, and Jake dutifully complied, paging through the book and settling on one of the superheroes pictured there. He set about tackling it with a blue crayon. “And using distraction,” she said, turning her attention back to her friends.
“I’m taking notes.” Libby giggled.
“That’s sort of what I wanted to talk to you guys about.” Mandy’s stomach felt queasy as she considered how she would broach the subject.
“We are all ears. And you better talk fast. When you don’t care about coloring in the lines, it doesn’t take long to finish your masterpiece.” Cat glanced back at Jake.
“Well, first, Ty and I have…”
“Omigod, you didn’t last two weeks!” Cat said, her arched eyebrows conveying her lack of surprise.
Libby smiled. “Chance and I didn’t last long either.”
Relieved she didn’t have to get too specific in front of the little one, Mandy nodded.
“And?” Libby asked, even as she blushed.
“Really, you want details?�
� Mandy jerked her head in Jake’s direction.
“Summarize—good or bad?” Cat said.
“Good.”
“Just good?” Libby sounded disappointed.
“Incredibly good, okay?”
“So that’s not why you called us here, then.” Cat looked over at Jake. “What a nice picture you colored.”
“It’s for Libby’s new baby.” He smiled, and the room seemed to light up.
Cat tore out the page and handed it to Libby.
“Thank you so much, Jake. I will hang it in the baby’s room.”
“Can you find another one, maybe do one in red crayon?” Cat asked her son.
Jake nodded and proceeded to explore his other artistic options in the book.
“It’s weird between us, given the potential to sell the company, but that’s not why I’ve called you here.” Mandy watched Jake page through his book and felt a little squeeze in her heart. “I’m thinking of having a baby with him.”
Libby almost choked on her bite of burger, and Cat laughed. So much for support.
“You’re serious,” Cat said when she stopped laughing.
“Yes. Look, when six months is over, I may be left with nothing. No business, no job, no legacy.”
“But rich,” Libby reminded.
“I think I need a beer after that news,” Cat said, getting up and going to the fridge. She turned back to Mandy. “Want one?”
Mandy shook her head. Cat retrieved the beer and settled back down next to Jake.
“Money isn’t everything. At least not to me.” For Ty it was everything. “Family, my friends, the people who work at Prescott, those are the reasons the company means so much to me. I will lose that if the company is sold. I want something equally special to replace that.”
“But why a baby with a man you don’t…” Cat glanced at Jake. “You know.”
“Because I may never find a man to marry. Odds haven’t been in my favor.” She thought back to Mitch and, unfortunately, several others. “If he sells the company, then at least I’ll have the baby. And the money to raise the child properly. And if he doesn’t sell it, I’ll have double the happily ever after.”
“And what does Ty say to this?” Libby asked.
“I haven’t asked him yet.” Mandy let out a sigh. “I wanted to run it by you guys first to see if I am crazy. Cat, you’re a single mom, and Libby, you’re a mother-to-be. I figured you would know if I’m nuts or not.”
“A child is a big step, Mandy. A lifetime commitment.” Cat smiled at her son who, at that moment, looked up. His ketchup-smeared face beamed as he held up a picture of some mythical figure of a man with streaks of red crayon running through it. “That’s very good. Now eat some of your hot dog.”
“I want to give this to Mandy,” he said.
Cat dutifully tore the page out of the coloring book, and Jake then handed it to Mandy.
“Thank you, Jake. I’ll treasure this picture. It’s going up on the refrigerator as soon as I get home.” Of course, it would have to be the hotel’s mini fridge. At the moment, her life felt very small.
“I’ll make you another,” he said cheerfully. “Do you like orange?”
“I love orange.” Mandy couldn’t resist. She reached over and tousled his hair. He beamed again. “And I love you.”
“I love you too, Mandy,” he said, never losing eye contact with the coloring book.
“That’s what I want, Cat. What you have and Libby is going to have. And I can provide for a child. And with Tucker and Harold around, my child will have men who love him or her.”
“Babysitters.”
“What?” Mandy asked, not sure she heard correctly.
Cat shrugged and took a sip a beer. “That’s what you are going to need. Babysitters. Preferably family. I don’t think anyone ever tells you just how much time and attention our little folks need. Not that it isn’t rewarding. It most definitely is. But relatives willing to babysit—especially if you are going to run the ranch or another stock company—is a must if you are going to be a single mom.” She looked over at Libby. “And even if you aren’t.”
“Chance’s mother is ready to move back to Wyoming for this child,” Libby said. “And my dad, believe it or not, has offered.”
“How does Chance feel about his mother moving?” Chance hadn’t been on good terms with his mother until Libby had stepped into the picture.
“He’s okay with it. A little concerned given her past, but willing to give it a go.”
“My mother has been asking me about grandchildren since I graduated from business school. Did I tell you that she’s going to be marrying Harold soon? They haven’t set a date yet. I think they are waiting until this six-month thing is past. Apparently, they have been sneaking around for some time.”
“How do you feel about your mother remarrying?” Libby asked.
“I love Harold. He is completely different in temperament from my father but a wonderful man. My mother and Harold are surprisingly cute together.”
“Well, they are certainly old enough to make their own decisions, and so are you, Mandy. If you think you can handle a child, go for it. But do you think Ty will agree?” Cat asked.
“That is the million-dollar—or more—question,” Mandy said. “That, and how to approach him.”
* * *
“You want to have my baby?” Ty felt the air drain out of his lungs like a tire with a massive leak. Mandy sat across from him in the pub-like restaurant near their hotel, looking perfectly normal, and tempting, in a silky red camisole and a pair of washed-out jeans, but she’d just said the darnedest thing.
Ty swiped a hand across his forehead. It had suddenly gotten hot in the busy dining room. He’d anticipated a few different reasons for Mandy asking to have dinner alone with him on that Monday, since the preliminary report on the valuation of the company had just come in. Ty had given the analysis a quick scan. The figures looked reasonable, and unfortunately, there appeared to be a case for selling the business at the right price. He wasn’t eager to make that argument to Mandy like he had been just a week ago. It would likely cause a permanent freeze in their relationship, just when things seemed to be heating up.
But a baby wasn’t even in the top ten of discussion topics. This had to be a joke, only Mandy looked as serious as a judge about to give out a life sentence.
“Hear me out, is all I ask,” Mandy said as she took a sip of sparkling water. The tables were made of the same golden wood as the walls and the bar that squatted at the far end of the dining room packed with families. It was cozy and homey in a most uncomfortable way.
He’d finally gotten her in bed for some pretty spectacular sex, and now she wanted to have a baby together? Stunned didn’t begin to describe how he felt.
“I’m listening,” he said, surprising himself. Was he listening? He shouldn’t be. No one knew more than him that he wasn’t cut out to be a father. Just like he wasn’t cut out to be a husband. Or part of a team. He knew he worked best alone. Hadn’t he spent seven years in the land development company pretending to be part of the management team, knowing they didn’t want the truth they paid him to uncover? Grappling with corporate politics that forced facts to fit predetermined scenarios had vanquished any qualms he may have had about going into business for himself—by himself. He was an outsider, a maverick. He liked it best when he depended on no one but himself.
And no one depended on him.
“Really? Because the look on your face says you’ve already decided no.” She cocked her head, those sparkling green eyes full of doubt.
“I’m just surprised, is all.”
“Well, actually, so was I when the thought first popped into my head. I mean, it’s bad enough that you’re part of Prescott now. Having a child together will make you part of my life forever. But when I thought about it some more, the pros outweighed the cons.” She leaned back and peered at him from under those thick lashes of hers as if she was still trying to weigh those
pros and cons.
“I’m the con, I take it.” Why did that thought disturb him so much?
“Well, yes, I guess you could say that.” She smiled from her eyes as well as her lips, and the warmth of that smile took some of the sting out of her words. “But you’re less of one than I may have thought just a bit ago.”
“How so?” Should he be encouraged by that?
Her gaze shifted away from him, toward the wider room. “I guess I see you more as a person.”
“What the hell did you see me as before?”
She gave a demure chuckle. “You really don’t want me to answer that, do you?”
He was offended. “Of course I want you to answer that.”
“I don’t want to insult you. The fact I want to have a baby with you now should really be seen as a compliment.”
“I want to know. How did you see me before?”
She sighed. Closed her eyes and opened them again. Played with the fork that sat upon the white paper napkin.
He waited. He wanted to know.
“As the devil.”
The devil?
She looked up and caught his eye. Shook her head. “Not really, but, well, you seemed so unfeeling. So by the book. So…cold.”
Cold. Wasn’t the first time a woman had called him that, so why did it slice through him with the sting of a razor blade this time? “And now?”
She cocked her head and shrugged. “Well, when it comes to the business, maybe still.” Her brows knitted together, and Ty knew she was thinking about the prospect of selling. No help for that. But then her brows relaxed. “But on a personal level, not as much.”
“Why?” Something was driving him to push for a response, in a vague hope she might have some insight into why people always thought of him that way. And why she didn’t now—so much.
Her eyes moved about the room as if the answer was on one of the walls. “Maybe knowing more about you. Maybe seeing you in action, working, with your family.”