Two To Wrangle (Hotel Rodeo #2)(17)

“I raise bucking bulls,” Delaney corrected. “Good ones.” Her smile stretched. “And it eats Ty alive. Ty used to be a rodeo stock contractor, but he always preferred to be in the arena with the bulls. He was reckless as hell when he was younger. I always wondered if he had a subconscious death wish.”

“Wasn’t his father killed by a bull?” Monica asked.

“Yeah, he was.” Delaney shrugged “So go figure. C’mon in and make yourself at home.”

Monica followed Delaney inside, noting that she hadn’t even unlocked the front door. She thought back to her own place in Manhattan with its set of three locks and a security system.

“Would you like a drink?” Delaney asked. “I have some Dr. Pepper, a six-pack of Blue Moon, or I could open a bottle of pinot noir I’ve been saving for a special occasion.”

“What’s special?” Monica asked.

“Having female company out here. It’s been a while.”

“No thanks,” Monica said. “I’m not really thirsty.”

“Well, I am.” Delaney disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Monica to wander the living room. Markedly more feminine than Tom’s place, with a mix of leather, chintz, and chenille, the room was an unusual meld of rustic ranch and French country. Finding no photographs, she lingered at a lithograph of a bull. “This is unusual,” she remarked as Delaney returned, popping the top of a Dr. Pepper. “Is it a Picasso?”

“You know your art,” Delaney said.

“I’ve spent most of my life in New York. Part of that was exploring art museums.”

“I have all eleven lithographs of his bull study,” Delaney said, “though I admit I prefer the first three in the series over the more abstract works.” She took the first swig of her drink. “Love this stuff. All Texans do. Sure you don’t want one?”

“No thanks. I’m fine.”

Delaney took another drink and then set the bottle down on a scarred coffee table. “I’d be happy to show you the rest of the place, if you like.”

“It’s a lovely old house,” Monica said as they mounted the narrow staircase. “Very homey. I’ve never lived in a place like this. I’ve pretty much spent all of my life in apartments.”

“Where did you grow up?” Delaney asked.

“Boarding schools mostly,” Monica said with a dry laugh, “but I also traveled a lot too, mostly in Europe.”

“I envy you that,” Delaney said. “My family took vacations every year, usually in Mexico or Hawaii, but I’ve never traveled anywhere on my own. I’ve always wanted to go to Europe, but Daddy always said we have everything worth seeing right here in the USA. Where is your family?” Delaney asked.

“My grandparents have a big home in Connecticut, but my mother lives in lower Manhattan. I settled there as well about five years ago.”

“These two are bedrooms,” Delaney pointed to the respective doors. “There was a third, but we converted it into two bathrooms as there weren’t originally any upstairs baths and there was only the one downstairs until I added a powder room.”

Monica shrugged. “I imagine that’s typical of a home this old.”

“I told Ty when we first moved in that we should just raze the place and build a brand-new house, but he wouldn’t hear of it,” Delaney said. “His family worked the land for three generations and even weathered the great Dust Bowl. I guess I respect that he has an attachment to the place even if he didn’t want to live in it.”

“Sounds like his family history means a lot to him,” Monica said. That surprised her at first, but then it made perfect sense. It explained why Ty held onto the place, even though Delaney had control of it.

“Over time the old place has grown on me too,” Delaney continued. “Let’s go back down to my room, and I’ll see if I can find those jeans.” Delaney disappeared into her closet and returned a few minutes later to toss Monica a pair of well-worn Wranglers. “Here. These were always my favorite.” She added with a grimace. “But I haven’t been able to get both cheeks into them in almost five years.”

“Then why do you keep them?” Monica asked.

Delaney laughed. “Wishful thinking, I guess. Don’t worry about the length. They’re about two inches too long for me, so they should fit you just about right.”

“Thanks.” Monica accepted the jeans. “Delaney, is this the only reason you invited me out here? I get the feeling it isn’t.”

Delaney cocked her head and considered Monica for a long moment. “All right, since you asked me, I’ll give it to you straight. I suspect we’re never going to be best friends, but I don’t want us to be enemies either.”

“What are you getting at?” Monica asked.

“Ty’s not drinking like he used to, but based on his lifestyle, I don’t have any reason to think he’s changed. I’d hate to see you get hurt too.”

“I don’t understand why you’re concerned about it,” Monica replied. “Look, I’m only here to lay my father to rest. After that, Ty and I will probably never see each other again. Why are you interested? What do you want from him, Delaney?”

“I need something from him. So I need to ask you straight out if you’re staking your claim.”