The Maverick Meets His Match (Hearts of Wyoming Book 2)(10)
“He can, and he can keep you from running the business for up to two years if he chooses,” Brian said.
“Let him try.”
Ty struggled to keep the smile from his lips but failed. This was going to be some year.
Chapter 3
Sitting in her cubicle in the cramped space that served as Prescott’s headquarters, Mandy reviewed the revised budget yet again, going through each line item, trying to see it through Ty’s eyes, except she couldn’t fathom what a man who knew nothing about putting on a rodeo would see there. Yet he would be the ultimate arbiter.
She glanced at the closed door of the only office in the small building. It had served as her grandfather’s office. Ty now sat behind that desk.
Life could be cruelly unfair.
Mandy’s cubicle faced that office door, the half wall providing just enough space for a counter to hold her computer and two old pictures—one with her smiling father, mother, grandfather, a young Tucker, and her teenaged self at some rodeo event long forgotten, and one of her and her father at one of her barrel racing events. Two upper cabinets formed the right wall she shared with the cubicle belonging to Karen, their office manager, with two long file cabinets tucked under the right wall’s counter space. The back half wall, which she shared with Harold’s cubicle, was covered in cork, and she’d hung pictures of her horses and bulls interspersed with the faded ribbons from her barrel racing days. She really should take those ribbons down, but they reminded her of going to rodeos with her father as he worked them and she competed in them. Happier days, days free from worry as to the future. Little had she known.
She hated the idea that Ty was sitting in her grandfather’s office and that he was heading her company, and yet she was working late to give him the budgets. Her gaze fell on the black-and-blue spot on her arm where blood had been drawn. The whole idea of marrying Ty Martin was just too ludicrous to endure, but she had dutifully gone for the blood test.
Her headache only slightly eased after the day’s events, she glanced at the closed door. What did Ty think of such a preposterous proposal? At the reading of the will, he’d actually seemed to be considering it, and he’d gone for the blood tests.
She picked up the revised budget sheet and scanned each line item again until she got to the personnel line. Kyle Bradshaw, the most recent recipient of the James Prescott Memorial Scholarship and a part-time employee of PRC since he was fifteen, had asked for Fridays off during the summer, their busiest time, so he could take a summer course. Of course, she’d granted it. Kyle, his father, and his brother all worked at PRC off and on as the ranch season allowed and the whole family had been at her grandfather’s funeral, though she hadn’t had the opportunity to say more than a few words to them or half the crowd of guests who had attended.
She changed the personnel figure to reflect Kyle’s absence and hit Print for revision number four. She’d have to change around the personnel duties as well. Flipping to another screen, she deleted Kyle’s name beside the feeding-and-watering duty and replaced it with her name. Added to her event duties, it would make for a very long day. No matter. She’d been short-handed before, and Ty certainly couldn’t complain about the salary savings. She flipped to still another screen and made a note to hire a temporary replacement for Kyle, hopefully by the next rodeo event.
Maybe she should put Ty in for feeding-and-watering duty. He’d said he wanted to learn the business. No better place to start. The thought brought a smile, but another moment’s consideration had her thinking better of the idea. She needed everything to go well at this first rodeo since her grandfather’s passing, and if she had to pull double duty, so be it. She hit the Print button and sat back.
She wished life was as easy as hitting a Print button. Her whole world had been thrown off its axis today. And the guy in the office held her future, and her happiness, in his oversized hands.
Retrieving the sheets of paper from the printer located in the copy room, Mandy stood outside of the office door ready to knock. Only she didn’t. Instead she slipped the papers under the door and walked out into the sunlight of the early evening, headed toward the barns.
Retrieving her saddle from the tack room, Mandy walked on the gravel path toward the paddock where Willow, her favorite riding horse, and some of her best broncs peacefully grazed. A horseback ride would be the best momentary antidote to that unnerving provision and the news that Ty would be running PRC for the foreseeable future.
Looking out over the acres of dusky-green plains toward the mountains that stood sentinel in all their purple glory against a peacock-blue sky, she was grateful that at least the ranch wasn’t in Ty’s clutches.
Why had JM drawn up such a preposterous will?
JM had already named Ty acting president before his death, which assured Ty could temporarily run the company, so it wasn’t for business reasons. And if her grandfather was so concerned about her ability to lead the company, why had he proposed something that would have handed over the firm after only six months?
Matchmaker. Had her grandfather harbored hopes of her and Ty being together? Had he learned about that summer when she had been seventeen and Ty nineteen, and she’d practically begged Ty to make love to her—and he’d walked away. Even now, that memory singed her cheeks with humiliation.
She’d been young, still feeling the loss of her father, and vulnerable. And Ty had been confident, smart, and ready to accomplish all the things she hoped to do. He’d also captured much of her grandfather’s time and attention during that summer. Looking back, she recognized she’d been desperate for someone to notice, to care.