The Maverick Meets His Match (Hearts of Wyoming Book 2)(22)
She closed her mind to the thought of Prescott livestock being merged into the Rustic Rodeo operation. All the work Harold had put into the breeding program could end up benefiting a rodeo supplier who had never sent one horse or bull to the NRF in the last five years, while Prescott had sent at least one every year for the past twenty.
It was her show, and the humming birds flapping in her stomach didn’t help. Nor the fact Ty had situated himself on a stool right behind her as if he was grading her. He’d changed into the white dress shirt that proclaimed Prescott Rodeo on the back. The shirt was required attire for all employees who would be front and center at the event. He’d rolled up the sleeves, exposing hair-brushed forearms, like most of the cowboys did when the weather was humid, making him look more like one of the crew than suited her.
He hadn’t said a word to her when she’d come in. He may be able to ignore her, but she had a hard time ignoring him, considering all she could think about were the pros and cons of marrying him. And that was not a healthy place for her mind to go.
Seeing the last cowboy enter the tent, she stepped forward to speak just as Ty rose from his perch, a hand anchored on each hip.
“This is a difficult time for the Prescott Rodeo family,” Ty announced. “As many of you may know by now, JM left the overall running of the rodeo to me on an interim basis until Mandy is ready to take the reins.”
She felt her cheeks heat and her temples pound.
“Mandy and I will be operating Prescott Rodeo as a team,” Ty continued. “Mandy will continue to run the logistics as she did when JM was in charge, and I will take over JM’s role on the business end, such as contract negotiations and the like. If you have any questions or concerns, see either Mandy or me, and we’ll do our best to give you the answers.”
The pain in her head arced as Ty looked at her expectantly, like he was waiting for her to add something. There was much she wanted to add, but she’d save that for Ty. Right now, it was more important that the crew saw them as working together, however much of a fantasy that was.
“Let’s bow our heads and say a prayer in honor of JM,” she said, taking the high road.
As she recited the words to the cowboy prayer, her thoughts turned to past rodeos when JM would lead them in prayer. She wanted to believe that he would walk through the tent flap and upbraid them for starting the meeting without him, ending this nightmare his death had trapped her in.
She blinked back a tear as the prayer ended. Hoping no one would notice, she picked up her clipboard from the bale of hay. JM had been a stickler for details, and he’d taught her to be the same. She went through the rosters for each event, making sure that Harold, as the chute boss, knew who was riding what, and what calf or steer was to go with each contestant in the timed event. Besides the shadow of JM that permeated everything to do with the rodeo, she was supremely aware of Ty sitting behind her on a stool, no doubt evaluating everything she did.
“Doug and Slim, you will be timing the tie-down roping event. You have your positions marked in the arena?” she asked.
Gratified that both men nodded, she moved on. “Harold, you’re operating the chutes for that event. Were you able to test the chute operation?”
“I also tested them,” Ty answered as Harold nodded.
“Great,” she muttered, trying to hide her surprise at Ty’s sudden interest in all things rodeo.
Clipboard in hand, she continued down her list. She checked that every committee person had a mount for the parade. She assured that the pick-up men and bull fighters knew the order of the less experienced bull riders. Finishing her list, she removed several sheets of paper from the clipboard and handed Jace Parish, the announcer, the information on each Prescott horse and bull that was being used.
“Stan, do you have your list available for Jace?” Mandy asked, acknowledging for the first time Stan’s presence.
Stan nodded and ambled over to Jace, with a single sheet of paper in hand. She’d done this rundown dozens of times before, but JM had always been beside her.
“Everything square for you?” She turned to the representative for this rodeo’s major sponsor, an auto dealer. If the money sponsor wasn’t happy, the rodeo committee wouldn’t be happy.
“Yes, ma’am,” responded the middle-aged man with a serious face. He wore dark-blue denims and a pressed chambray shirt, looking like a dude-ranch cowboy. No participants were allowed behind the chutes if they weren’t in cowboy dress, PRRA rules.
“Any questions?” she asked the rest of the group, wrapping up. Several cowboys had already checked their watches a few times. She’d gone over by almost ten minutes in her quest to be sure everything was locked down tight in this, their first rodeo since JM’s passing.
“Have you got the names of the clubs we need to recognize tonight during the grand parade?” Jace asked.
Even though Jace’s boyish face held an encouraging expression, heat climbed her neck. She’d forgotten to give him the list. “Yes, right here,” she said with a grimace, pulling out the sheet from her clipboard. If those clubs weren’t announced, the rodeo committee would have her head. Giving locals recognition was part of the fabric of the rodeo communities. She handed the sheet to Jace. At least someone had her back.
“Anything else I may have forgotten?” she asked. No sense standing on pride. She wanted this show to be the best, and she needed those in the room to do their part. If they knew about something amiss, she wanted to give them the opportunity to tell her. She looked from weathered face to weathered face.