The Maverick Meets His Match (Hearts of Wyoming Book 2)(81)
It was true that negotiations on future contracts had been hampered by the rumors, since the rodeo circuit was a small community. But in just two more months, it would be over, and Prescott would be hers, free and clear. She could endure until she could announce with certainty that Prescott was not for sale, was off the block, was staying in the family for good.
Surprisingly, Ty had thrown himself into running Prescott like it would always be his, and it had been weeks since he’d brought up the prospect of selling. He’d worked every rodeo, like he promised, and he actually seemed to enjoy it. While they both worked on contract negotiations, she had become the front person, building up the relationships with the rodeo committees and managing the crew at the site, while Ty did the backroom stuff, such as drawing up the contracts, working out the logistics, developing the budgets, and setting up the schedule, freeing Harold to concentrate on the breeding program and the quality of the stock for each event. Once the responsibilities had been sorted, Mandy was surprised at how well they worked together. When Ty left, she would miss his contribution. Who was she kidding? She’d miss him.
That knowledge had been creeping up on her for weeks now.
A fly buzzed around her head, and she swatted at the air, hoping the insect would move on.
She liked being married. She liked having someone to share the day with, having someone who cared about her, someone who noticed.
She liked being married to Ty. The fringe benefits were amazing. But he also understood the business, more than she expected from a mere lawyer. She could talk to him about everything and anything, and he was interested, knowledgeable, and helpful. And the crew seemed more accepting of him. He’d even been invited to one of their poker games.
It was all too easy to imagine they were really married. Really running Prescott Rodeo Company together.
He acted married. He’d take her out to dinner on a whim, just to give her a lift after a particularly hard day. When they weren’t on the road, he’d make coffee for them in the evening, and they’d sit together sipping their coffee in the library as they watched some silly show on TV. And almost always, he’d find some excuse to lean over and give her a sweet kiss. That kiss would lead to more kisses, and before the next commercial she’d be gathered in his arms and they’d be helping each other unwind.
A smile crept across her face as she ambled along the gravel path, past the small arena they used for exhibitions, to the horse paddocks and corrals where the bulls were kept. She waved away the horseflies in a vain attempt to keep them from biting her bare arms, since she had on a sleeveless top. There was a mild breeze today, a reprieve from the recent heat that made denims cling to clammy legs.
Life was surprisingly good. And she wanted it to continue, but how was that going to happen? Ty hadn’t said anything about the future. He hadn’t talked about his job, whether his condo had sold or even if it was still on the market.
And she hadn’t asked. She was too afraid of the answers.
Rounding the corner of one of the barns, she shaded her eyes against the sun and focused on the pens holding some of Prescott’s prize bulls. Standing at the corral gate was Ty with a man she didn’t recognize.
Why would a strange man be looking over her premier bull stock? Rodeo committeemen didn’t routinely visit rodeo suppliers. Her stomach did a somersault. What if Ty hadn’t given up on selling Prescott?
She marched toward the two. Watching them appraise her bulls caused an ache deep within her, as if someone had driven a blade into her stomach and was pushing on the heel of the knife, making sure it went in deep.
Engrossed in conversation, neither man noticed her until she was within a yard of them. Then they turned.
The stranger was probably midforties, if the lines on his face were an indicator, handsome in a boy-next-door kind of way, and wearing the denims and plaid shirt that marked him as a rancher—or rodeo supplier.
“Mandy? What are you doing here?” Ty asked. He sounded like she had just caught him up to no good. Her heart sank. Ty wore a black Prescott Rodeo Company T-shirt and a pair of leather chaps over dusty denims, with a cowboy hat covering his thick head of hair. The chaps were something new.
He might look the part of a PRC cowboy, but that was just an illusion. Just like their marriage. Ty was no more part of PRC than the stranger. Not if Ty could sell the company.
“I could ask you the same,” she said. “Hi, I’m Mandy Prescott…Martin.” She thrust out her hand. She still hadn’t gotten used to her full name.
Ty straightened. “My wife. Mandy, this is Cody Lane, livestock director for the AFBR.”
A rush of relief pulsed through her. The AFBR. Not a rodeo contractor. Someone who contracts for rodeos.
She shook his hand, the man’s grip firm and reassuring. “Pleased to meet you.”
As relief subsided, guilt took over. She’d actually thought Ty would sell her company—after all they’d done together these last four months. Only he wasn’t going to sell it. He was working to strengthen it.
“What brings you to Prescott, Mr. Lane?”
“Cody.” The cowboy smiled, showing a pair of fine white teeth. “Ty asked us to come by and take a look a while back, and since I was in Cheyenne at one of the tour stops, I thought I’d swing by.”
“Ty has rounded up some of our finest.”
“I was just giving Cody the rundown on some of these bulls, Mandy, but you know them as well as anyone.” Ty shot her an encouraging smile. Dusty boots, dusty chaps, dusty hat. Her cowboy husband. Just seconds ago, she’d been ready to believe the worst. Now she felt a warm glow suffuse through her. Was this love she’d been feeling lately? Was she falling in love with him?