The Maverick Meets His Match (Hearts of Wyoming Book 2)(92)

Mandy set the squirming child down on the ground and, holding Delanie’s sticky little hand, walked to the house. Delanie held the screen door open as Mandy stepped inside. She blinked as her eyes adjusted from the bright sunlight of a fall day to the relative darkness of the unlit kitchen.

It took her a moment to make out Trace.

Shifting her gaze, she found another figure sitting off to the side of the kitchen table, a single sheet of paper lying on the table before him.

Heat climbed up her throat. Moisture collected under her arms. Ty had some nerve. She didn’t lose sight, however, that Delanie was watching her, a smile on the little girl’s precious face.

Trace had moved to the screen door. To block it or exit quickly, she wasn’t sure. She swung her gaze toward him. He shrugged in a sheepish way. “You two need to talk.”

And then he was out the door, Delanie grabbing his hand. That psychologist had made progress.

The door slammed behind them.

Now what?

Mandy turned to study Ty. She hadn’t seen him since the meeting in the library. He looked a little haggard around the edges, dressed in a pair of wrinkled denims and flannel shirt. Soon he could go back to his suits and ties, content that he had once again made a lot of money and not at all bothered about the good people whose lives he had disrupted.

She could feel a vein pulse at her temple like a drum thumping out a funereal melody. She wanted to turn around and go home. But she had to tell him about the baby. And now was as good a time as any.

“You went to a lot of trouble to get me out here. Yet I can’t think of a single reason why. There is nothing, absolutely nothing, you can tell me that I want to hear. And if it is to announce that the papers to sell Prescott have been signed, believe me when I tell you, this is the worst way you could have communicated it to me.”

Ty rose from his seat, his six-foot frame unfurling before her as he ran his fingers through his dark hair. He stared at her. Just stared at her. Looked her up and down. It wasn’t a sexual appraisal. It made her more uncomfortable than that. It was more like a caress. As if he needed to assure she was really standing before him.

“I’d appreciate it if you could you sit down, Mandy. I’ve something to say that doesn’t involve selling Prescott.”

Mandy’s heart was racing, and her legs did feel a little weak. She pulled back the kitchen chair from the table and perched on the edge of the seat, primed to make a quick exit if need be.

Ty followed, sitting back down on the wood slat chair.

“How are you?”

Mandy could feel her blood steam at the question. Why should he care after what he had done to make her miserable? “I’m doing as well as can be expected for a woman who has lost her company. Not to mention her extended family—because that’s what Prescott is to me. Something you’d never understand, and even if you did, you wouldn’t care.”

Ty dropped his eyes down to the sheet of paper before him, looking beleaguered, but if he was, it was of his own making. He’d never been a part of Prescott, as it turned out. He’d been planning its demise from the first day. She thought he had changed, had maybe found his place—by her side—but she was wrong. He didn’t want to be there. He didn’t want anything to do with her, or he wouldn’t have done this. She and Prescott Rodeo Company had just been a convenient way to pass time. Anger stampeded through her like horses running from fire.

“You look…” Whatever he was going to say died on his lips.

She pressed her cold palms on the table, steadying herself. “I’m not here for a chat, Ty. Say what you have to say. Then I’ve got something to tell you.”

“You can say your piece first.” Ty could only imagine the names she wanted to call him. Best to let her vent now. Maybe she’d be in a better frame of mind for the news. Maybe, just maybe, she’d give him a second chance.

“No, you are the one who went to all this trouble to get me here. To trick me.” Her eyebrows arched as she labeled his maneuver. “You first.”

Ty had thought about telling her all the whys and wherefores he had used to justify his original decision to sell and what had caused his opinion to change, but every time he had rehearsed it in his head, it had sounded lame. Like why hadn’t he seen it from the very beginning? He didn’t know how to explain that he had been looking through a different lens, one that didn’t focus on people or relationships or the satisfaction of the work, but only on the value measured by the dollar.

In the end he opted for shooting straight and keeping it simple.

“I didn’t sell Prescott.”

She blinked once and then again, as if shutting off one screen and opening another. “What do you mean? You didn’t sell Prescott to Lassiter?”

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

Tears glistened in her eyes and streamed silently down her cheeks. Mandy’s body began to tremble, like she was shivering. Watching her absorb the news, Ty’s stomach lurched as if he’d just plummeted down a roller coaster’s hill.

He thought she would be happy, pleased, maybe grateful. But she reacted more like someone who had been badly frightened.

“Mandy?” Ty leaned forward, concerned.

She shook her head in response.

He moved from his seat to crouch on his haunches by her chair. She looked as confused as he was by whatever emotion had propelled her to tears. He gathered her in his arms, placing a hand gently behind her to press her head onto his shoulder, anchoring her.