by Anne Carrole
“How about the fact you’d still hold the majority of shares and, with the family votes, you’d have de facto controlling interest? And marriage has its benefits.” His gaze traveled from her eyes, down her throat, past her neck, to the top button of her shirt…and back up again with an intensity that made the beats of her pulse reverberate clear to her heart. “Just to be clear, I’m not asking anything of you. I didn’t write this will. I’m only exploring options. But I can guarantee you a pleasurable time if you’re open to it.”
He sat back in his saddle. “Think about it, Mandy. Six months, you’d be head of Prescott Rodeo Company. I could accept marriage as long as it’s understood we divorce at the end of six months. And you agree to a prenup, of course. I just think it’s something you should consider.”
The man was an arrogant, egotistical sidewinder who brought out the worst in her. Except for that long-ago summer.
She looked past the creek, over the plain, and toward the point where the land sloped gently up to the foothills. This was her land. PRC was her company. And this was her life.
“It will be a cold day in hell, Martin, before I’d marry you, much less sleep with you.”
He arched an eyebrow as if he doubted her.
There was only one thing to do to preserve her sanity. Reining Willow to the right, she gave a light kick. Her horse lurched into a gallop, heading north up the stream and away from Ty, away from the creek, away from bad memories, and overpowering lust. Mandy gave the horse its head, leaving, she hoped, Ty in the proverbial dust.
Chapter 4
“Well, I can think of worse things,” Sheila said as she poured Mandy another cup of coffee from the glass pot.
Dawn was just breaking over the eastern sky, streaming dusky light into the oversized kitchen of Mandy’s mother’s house. Granite counters gleamed, stainless steel appliances shined, and the travertine-tiled floor glistened in the light. Though Mandy lived in her mother’s house, somewhere along the way she’d stopped thinking of it as her home. More like a way station on the road to her real life. Yet she hadn’t taken any steps to find her own place since getting her master’s degree in business. Maybe because it would mean leaving the ranch—the one spot where she belonged.
Dumping two teaspoons of sugar and at least a quarter cup of cream into the strong brew, Mandy took a huge gulp hoping the caffeine would jump-start her body—and her mood. Given her sleepless night, she’d barely been conscious enough to shimmy into her jeans and the white shirt with the embroidered PRC logo of a riderless bronc in midkick.
Sitting at the kitchen-table with the list of the rodeo livestock and entrants spread before her, Mandy inhaled the coffee’s nutty aroma, one of her favorite scents. “Worse things than marrying a man I don’t even like?”
She hadn’t expected Ty to follow her last evening—and he hadn’t. She’d ridden far upstream and then crossed over and rode toward the foothills, trying to distance herself from their conversation, but she hadn’t been able to get him out of her thoughts. His arrogance had unsettled her like the sight of a fox unsettled a hen. When she’d returned in the half-light of dusk, the mare was safely in her stall and Ty, gratefully, nowhere in sight.
Her mother laughed, more like a giggle. “Honey, have you looked at him? He’s a hunk. Twenty years younger and I’d throw my hat in that arena, for sure.”
Mandy pushed away her plate with the remains of a half-eaten scrambled egg and tried to hide her shock. Even though her slim mother looked full of youthful vigor, it was downright weird to think of her having those thoughts about any man. Sheila had never even dated, at least to Mandy’s knowledge, since her father died, though surely there had to have been men who’d been interested in such a vibrant, still-beautiful woman. Her mother seemed content with her female friends and volunteer activities. The only man she’d ever seen her mother with on a routine basis was Harold, and that was because Harold was always around.
This morning, her ever-perfect mother was decked out in designer jeans and a western shirt, as if she was going somewhere. Given it was six o’clock in the morning, Mandy chalked it up to Sheila always looking pulled together. No one would ever catch her mother in a robe and nightgown outside of the bedroom.
“Mom, what are you saying? You think I should consider an arranged marriage? Because that’s what it would be. Something right out of the Victorian era.”
“Well, given how you’re married to the job, this may be the only shot I’ll have at grandchildren,” Sheila said as she scrubbed the fry pan in the sink. Mandy couldn’t help the eye roll. Like most single women in their twenties, she was used to having her lack of husband and children pointed out to her. But this time, she felt a little twinge at the prospect of never having a child. After hearing that one of her best friends was pregnant, she’d found herself eying babies at the mall with not a little bit of envy. She chalked it up to hormones.
“This marriage is not happening, and even if it did, it would certainly not include children.” With Ty? Never. He was so not father material.
Mandy scanned the list of cowboy names, happy not to see Mitch Lockhart on the list. Didn’t mean he wouldn’t be there. Since the roster wasn’t yet full, cowboys could sign on at the last minute. She was already dreading this weekend given this would be the first rodeo without her grandfather and the first rodeo with Ty in charge. All she’d need was Mitch to show up to have a fiasco trifecta.
“Apparently, Ty is your grandfather’s choice,” Sheila continued. “JM knew how to pick ’em. After all, he picked me for your father.”
Mandy swung her head around so fast she felt a little dizzy. “What? That’s not true. Daddy picked you.”
“Your grandfather introduced us. And told your father right at that introduction I was the one he was going to marry.”
Looking over her shoulder, Mandy watched as her mother washed and then dried her hands on the checkered towel hanging on the oven handle, adjusting it so it hung just right after she finished.
“Are you saying Daddy didn’t love you when he married you?”
Sheila smoothed her hands down the front of her stylish jeans. “Of course not. But your father wouldn’t have given me a second look if it wasn’t for JM.” Sheila motioned toward Mandy’s plate. “Is that all you are going to eat?”
“I’m not hungry. The coffee will keep me going.” Getting up, Mandy grabbed her plate and scraped the half-eaten egg into the garbage can hidden behind a cabinet door by the sink. Her mother’s cooking was a benefit of living at home. She just didn’t have much of an appetite. She placed the scraped plate in the dishwasher and returned to the table to gather up her papers. “Why do you say daddy wouldn’t have given you a second look?” Her mother had been and still was an attractive woman by anyone’s standards.
“Your father was a bit of a playboy back then. He seemed to like buckle bunnies and models. Much like Ty, if the gossip is true,” her mother said, placing the remaining uncooked eggs and bacon back in the refrigerator and closing the fridge door with a firm press. “Given my height, no one would call me statuesque, that’s for sure. But your father, out of respect for JM, started dating me, and, well, soon there were no more models or rodeo girls in his life. Just me.”
Mandy sat back down and tried to process this new revelation. Surprised as Mandy was, she had to disagree. “This is so different. Daddy wasn’t trying to take over your family’s company. And we’re talking marriage here, not courtship.” Her foot jiggled.
“Your grandfather was just making your arrangement respectable.”
“And binding.”
“For six months. And stop shaking your foot, dear. It’s not ladylike.”
Mandy curled her right leg around her left. Her mother had been trying to cure her of her nervous habit for years, to no avail.
“No court would deny you a divorce if you wanted it once the will was entered into evidence,” Sheila said “These days marriages can be about as lasting as a date, so why not, i
s all I’m saying.”
“Ah, because I despise the man.”
Sheila shook her head. “Mandy, I’m your mother. I know you better than you know yourself. You do not despise that man. You are attracted to him. And on some level, I think you respect what he’s accomplished, when you can stop envying it.” An image of Ty riding the mare, dressed in slacks and a white shirt, his jaw darkened by a five o’clock shadow, and a lock of hair falling across his brow flitted across her mind, causing a tingle low in her belly.
“I’m not envious of Ty Martin. I might concede to a little lust, but not envy.” Never envy. What did she have to be envious about? Ty wasn’t married, didn’t have children, and though he might be well-off, Prescott Rodeo provided all the money Mandy needed. No, she was not envious.
“Fine, I won’t argue. I just think you should consider it. After all, JM went to a lot of trouble to draft this provision. He obviously thought it was best for you, Ty, and the company.”
Mandy sank her head into her hands. “That’s what I don’t understand. I don’t understand any of it. Did he think me so incapable he had to go through all of this?”
Her mother’s warm hand rested on Mandy’s back. “I don’t think his motive had anything to do with your capabilities. I think he was concerned about the shenanigans the other stockmen might pull. And he was concerned about your happiness. He thought Ty the solution to both, is all.”
Mandy wished she could believe the part about it having nothing to do with her capabilities. As for Ty being the solution, that marriage provision in the will made him the problem. She shuffled the papers before her into a semblance of a pile. Last evening Ty had asked her to consider marriage and told her they were going to wind up in bed together anyway. If she agreed, she’d be playing right into his hands. “JM put up his ranch house for me to lose if I don’t marry, in addition to the threat of Ty selling the firm. He’s put me between the proverbial rock and a hard place.”
If anywhere felt like home, it was her grandfather’s house, built just up the road. It had always been full of people coming and going, even after her grandmother passed away.
Shelia leaned over and picked a stray hair off Mandy’s sleeve. “JM must have seen that spark of attraction between you two. He thinks he can fan it, even from the grave. And he’s willing to put up Prescott shares and the ranch house. That must mean he’s pretty certain of the outcome.”
Mandy shook her head. Obviously, her grandfather had been losing it toward the end. Engaging in fairy-tale notions that weren’t based in reality. “JM was wrong. There is nothing I find admirable about Ty Martin.”
Her mother’s smirk poked her like a cattle prod.
“All right, except maybe his body,” Mandy relented. “You happy?” It was way too awkward speaking about lust with her mother, of all people. “And Ty Martin has never given one hint he’s attracted to me, other than as a way to pass some time.”
We’d be good together.
“Really? I don’t think you’ve been looking too hard then.”
Mandy sighed. Her mother was just being a romantic, a perspective Mandy didn’t share. “How can I give up controlling interest in the company and endure a sham of a marriage just to save the ranch house? No, JM has actually made it an easy decision. One year, even two years, is not such a long time. I’ll just have to tolerate having Ty around until then.”
I can guarantee you a pleasurable time if you’re open to it.
Sheila slipped into the chair beside her. “Can you? From what you’ve told me, Ty’s going to have full authority to sell the business if the numbers don’t work. I don’t care much if the business is sold, except for the fact I know how upset you’d be.”
“If I am to believe Ty, and I don’t entirely, we’d be well off if we sold out. But it’s not just about me or you, Mom. What about everyone who depends on Prescott for their paycheck? For several families, we are their livelihood. Fathers and sons and even daughters. We’re like a family at Prescott. And Daddy? It was his dream to have a premier stock company. What about that dream?”
Sheila shrugged. “That was your father’s dream. You could make your own dream. But if you really are against selling, then I think you should consider doing what JM proposes. It’s obviously what he wanted you to do. Wouldn’t it make it tougher for Ty to find a buyer if he only has six months?”
“I don’t know if I could marry a man I don’t respect, much less like, even if it is only a few months.” Mandy closed her eyes, hoping she could block out the whole idea. “And he could still sell it within six months anyway. Then what? The best this marriage may allow is for me to keep tabs on him. It’s not enough.”
“Mandy, look at me.” Mandy opened her eyes and stared at the familiar gentle smile on her mother’s face. It was the same smile her mother used when telling Mandy she’d feel better soon or getting a B in math wasn’t the end of the world. “You’ll be working with him for even longer if you don’t marry him. Suppose you do fall for him, you fall for each other? If you think there’s any chance you two will have an affair of some sort, why not go with this proposal?”
We’ll probably end up in bed together anyway, even if we don’t marry.
By the time he’d uttered that sentence, she’d been ready to wrap her fingers around his throat and squeeze. True, she doubted she’d be able to spend a year or more working with the man, but not because she was tempted by him. Because she didn’t like what he stood for. So how could she stand six months living with him?
“I’m not worried about falling for a man I don’t like.” Even if she had a history of falling for the wrong kind of guy.
Her usual type was a guy with a ready smile, easygoing attitude, and no thought of the future. Unfortunately, that combination usually came with a dearth of ambition and a wandering eye.
Regardless, she would never lose her heart again to a man as cold and arrogant as Ty Martin. Six months. That wasn’t enough of a reason to do it, and there were 180 reasons, called cohabitation, not to do it.
“What are you worried most about?”
“Losing Prescott. That’s all that matters to me.”
“Well, why not go with the marriage and at least lessen the odds of selling? And there’s always the potential for using womanly wiles to change the course of events.” Shelia cocked her head to the side and winked.
“Shouldn’t marriage vows be taken seriously? I never thought you’d encourage me to be a loose woman, Mom.”
“I’m just trying to be practical about this.”
Mandy rose and hugged the papers to her chest.
“Would you place your cup in the dishwasher?” her mother asked.
Mandy dutifully complied. Returning to the table, she gave her mother a kiss on the cheek and caught a whiff of her mother’s Channel No. 5. “I best be going. They’re leaving at seven.”
“I know. I’m coming with you,” Shelia announced.
“To see us off?” That would explain why her mother was so put together at this ungodly hour.
“No, I’m coming to Greenville with you.”
Mandy leaned her thigh against the table. “Why?” Sheila hadn’t come on a rodeo excursion in the two years since Mandy had returned from grad school.
Her mother bit her lip. “Because I want to. Because Harold wants me to.” Her mother brushed a wayward strand of hair behind her ear.
“What does Harold have to do with this?” Mandy said, crossing her arms and pressing the papers to her chest.
“Harold and I are…well, we are a couple. Have been for a while.”
How many shocks could she stand? “Come again.”
“While JM was alive, we were discreet. But now, well, there’s no reason to be.”
Mandy felt like the floor had shifted under her boots. Discreet? She hadn’t had a clue. And apparently, neither had her grandfather. “Grandfather wouldn’t have approved?”
Sheila lifted her chin. “Neither Harold nor I wished to cause him
any consternation on that score. He was good to both of us. I think, on some level, he may have suspected. But I never wanted him to think I wasn’t in love with your father. I always will be. Just, Harold has a place in my heart too. We plan to marry after the season.”
Her mother and Harold? “He’s so different from Daddy.” Her father had been a hard-charging stockman with focus and determination. Harold was laid back, content to be second banana.
Sheila shrugged. “At this time in my life, maybe I need a man for whom I’m the center of his world, and not some rodeo company. Not that your father wasn’t good to me. He was. And at that time, I was happy to raise our children and be his wife. But now, well, I’m happy to have a man who thinks I’m everything—and who wants to be the center of my world too.”
Mandy gulped and tried to process. “Does Tuck know?”
“Yes, dear. He…well, let’s just say he found out. I’d planned to tell you once we’d decided to marry, but…well, then your grandfather took a turn for the worse, and it seemed best to wait a bit. Now that we’ll be staying together in Greenville…”
Her mother and Harold shacking up in a hotel room. Mandy blocked that thought as Sheila stood, rubbing her hands over and under each other, hope in her eyes.
If Harold made her mother happy, who was she to interfere? “You deserve a good man, Mom. And Harold is one.”
A smile beamed across her mother’s face, creating a warm glow. There obviously was real love there. Who knew?
“Thank you, honey. That means a great deal to both of us. And you deserve a good man. Better than that tie-down roper Mitch Lockhart.”
Given Mitch had chosen her grandfather’s funeral to dump her because he needed “breathing room,” code for dating other women, she couldn’t disagree. He’d used her for sponsorship money, and she, if she was brutally honest, had used him for sex.
“Give Ty a chance, Mandy. You might be surprised.”
Her mother had no idea how wrong she was.
