by Anne Carrole
It would just be sex. Just mindless sex. No one would know.
The word liar popped into her head. She was lying. To herself. It would never be just sex with Ty. For reasons that at the moment eluded her, he meant something more to her, however mistaken those feelings were. However much she didn’t want to own up to them.
It took more willpower than she thought she possessed, but she pulled back. He stared at her through lowered lids, regret in his eyes.
“No,” she managed to say.
“It’s gonna happen sometime. And soon. You can take that to the bank,” he said, his voice husky and his smile assured.
Chapter 11
The following morning, she called Libby and Cat to squeeze in coffee at the café before the dreaded late-morning flight to the Washington rodeo. She hoped Cat and Libby had some good advice to strengthen her quickly fading resolve, because she surely didn’t know what to do.
It was a few minutes past ten when Mandy, dressed in a Prescott rodeo T-shirt, jeans, and barn boots, walked into the café, her two friends already situated in a booth and waiting for her. At the last minute, one of Prescott’s best broncs had pulled up lame, but it turned out to be only a pebble caught in the hoof. Something Kyle should have checked for before sounding the alarm, but he was still learning.
Mandy slid into the booth just ahead of the waitress heading for their table. It was the same perky blonde from the other night, and they gave her their order before saying their hellos. Not quite ready to talk about herself, Mandy addressed Libby, who was wearing a cute blue-and-white maternity top with her jeans now that she was beginning to show. “So how are you feeling?”
“Good. The second trimester is a lot easier than the first, thank goodness.” The woman was beaming, and Mandy felt an odd sense of emptiness at the thought of never having children. Clearly Libby had found the right man. She wondered if she ever would.
“And, Cat, how are things going with that adverse-possession claim?” Mandy asked.
Cat was dressed in a white tailored shirt, skintight jeans, and a shiny pair of undoubtedly new cowgirl boots. She looked like she stepped out of a fashion magazine rather than a ranch pickup. Cat had always been the girly-girly type when they were growing up, while Mandy had been all tomboy. How her friend was going to run a huge ranch now that her stubborn father had passed away was beyond Mandy, but one thing she could say about Cat, she was determined—a trait they both shared.
“We’re still in the discovery phase. Our lawyer said he’ll be ready to file in a few weeks. I don’t feel right about it, but he keeps telling me it’s the law and it involves water rights, so it’s not something I can let slide.”
Mandy nodded. She understood not feeling right about something that was ostensibly legal.
“And how is Mrs. Martin feeling these days?” Cat asked.
“Confused.” And that was the truth.
Mandy elaborated, telling them about almost giving in to her raging hormones back in Abilene, the confrontation with Kendall, and her inability to concentrate, much less sleep, when Ty was in the same bed. “I’ve never been more attracted to a man, nor trusted one less than I do Ty Martin.”
“Maybe it’s more than attraction,” Libby said as the waitress set down their coffees, pastries, and the western omelet Libby had ordered. The woman was eating for two, after all.
“That’s exactly my fear. I thought being with him twenty-four seven would make me like him less. I hate to admit it, but he actually had some good ideas to help keep business. He’s smart, works hard, and doesn’t shirk difficult jobs or decisions. Those are traits I’d find attractive in anyone else. But it doesn’t change the terms of the will or his quest to sell the place. He’s still waiting on financials, which I know will show we are profitable, but I don’t know if that’s enough to convince him not to sell.”
“You’re afraid of getting too involved with him if you do have sex, is that it?” Cat leaned in.
“Exactly. I’ve no doubt that it is going to be great sex, which makes it even more difficult to resist him, but what if I end up caring about him more than is healthy, given he holds the fate of my company in his hands. I mean, I should hate the guy.”
“Maybe he’ll end up caring about you and won’t sell the company.” Libby always looked on the bright side.
“Or maybe you could use your feminine wiles to keep him from selling.” Cat wiggled her eyebrows.
“Not a chance. Ty is so goddamn objective, it isn’t funny. He revels in the fact that he’s all business, strictly business.”
“Reminds me of my father, and not in a good way,” Cat said. “If you want to have sex with him, though, how are you going to resist for six whole months? That’s an awfully long time to be in lust.”
“That’s the problem. He keeps saying that we have an end point, like that’s a good thing. At the end of six months, he could have sold the business and walked away, and I will have been left with nothing.”
“Nothing but a pile of cash,” Cat said and took a sip of her coffee.
Mandy sighed. “I want more. I want my company.” She hesitated a minute before confessing. “And I want a husband and kids. I want it all. And I’m likely to end up with none of it, especially if Ty takes my company.”
Libby rubbed her rounded tummy. “I can relate. It almost didn’t happen for me.”
Cat leaned back. “Well, I have two out of three—the ranch and the kid. Doesn’t stop me from hankering for a good man to call my own though. I’m just glad that I have Jake out of the whole sorry mess. I never understood how intense that special love for your child could be until I had my little boy.”
“How is it raising him alone?” Mandy asked. It was something she’d been wondering about lately.
“Not difficult, just time consuming. In these first few years, they pretty much need your full attention. I’m lucky to have my mom to help with Jake, and a foreman to run the ranch, though I wish I had more of a handle on what is going on, or at least knew the questions to ask. But as for raising Jake, it’s the most fulfilling thing I’ve ever done.”
“That’s good to know.” Libby’s smile was wistful.
“Well, Libby, you have it all. Cat, you have most of it. I, well, I could be left with nothing.”
“Question is, would you settle for great memories?” Cat asked.
Libby reached over and patted Mandy’s hand just as the food arrived. “It’s another dilemma, isn’t it?”
* * *
“That one is Painted Glory,” she said, talking to Ty as she pointed to a pinto horse on the outside of the band of horses milling in the holding pen of the Washington rodeo. “He likes to whirl to get riders off. The one walking toward us is High Jinks,” she said of the bay horse.
Ty had flown her to the rodeo, and the flight had been, gratefully, uneventful. They arrived a few hours before the gates opened so they could touch base with Harold, who had everything under control. Her mother hadn’t accompanied Harold this time because she and Mrs. Jenkins were still in the throes of cleaning out the ranch house.
The event committee easily agreed to a contract for next season given Prescott had been putting on the small county rodeo for the last thirty years. Mandy convinced Ty to first check into their room at the nearby hotel so she could reassure herself that the room contained double beds, because she wasn’t ready to surrender, even if she was thinking about it—a little too much. They then headed back to the fairgrounds.
As they had time to kill before the traditional kickoff meeting, Ty mentioned he’d like to know more about the livestock, and Mandy obliged.
Reaching the fence, the bay gelding nuzzled Mandy, and she patted the horse on the wide white line that ran down the center of his face. “He’s a favorite. Been to the NRF five times and named saddle bronc horse of the year two years ago.”
“Most of these are wild horses?” Ty stood beside her, close beside her. He’d taken to wearing one of two options—a white Presc
ott shirt or black Prescott T-shirt, paired with jeans. Today he’d chosen the white shirt because they likely wouldn’t have time to return to the hotel room before the event opened. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, exposing forearms that were getting tanner with each passing day.
He looked like every other rodeo hand and worked liked one. If she hadn’t known he was a lawyer, she’d never have guessed it now.
“Some. Others, like High Jinks here, are just spoiled horses. Owners let them get the upper hand, and now the horses won’t let anyone ride them. After High Jinks bucks someone off, he prances around the arena like a prince. He knows he’s done his job.” She gave him another pat, and the horse, as if cued, moved out.
It was difficult not to think about the finely sculpted body under that shirt, under those jeans. She’d seen all of him, more than once, and unfortunately, his naked image seemed to be burned into the sockets of her eyes, because try as she might, she couldn’t stop seeing it.
A stocky black mare nickered as the bay returned to the herd. “That’s Black Rum. I’m especially proud of her because she was born and raised at our ranch. Been to the NRF four years in a row. She usually bucks with the rank horses because she’s so hard to ride. She’s unpredictable in the arena, but around the ranch, she’s a gentle soul. Harold may be breeding her next year, which is a tough call since it will take her out for a season. We’re still discussing it.”
Ty had leaned back against the fence. His Stetson shaded his eyes from a sun that sat low in the bright-blue sky, and a mild breeze ruffled hair exposed under the brim.
“You love these horses, don’t you?”
“Of course I do. They are part of the family.” The family Ty was ready to break up. “I would be crushed to lose any of them.”
Ty touched her forearm, and heat climbed to her neck. “Let’s wait and see what the numbers say,” he said.
All he had to do was gather her in his arms and promise not to take Prescott away from her, and she’d be all his. The thought scared her. Because he’d only want her for a while and she…well, she just might want him forever.
“I don’t need the numbers—and neither should you. We are profitable. We are happy. End of story.” Or it should be.
She glanced at him, but Ty kept his focus on the horses. She wished she knew what he was thinking. Knew if any of it mattered to him. If she mattered to him. At least her happiness.
After Abilene, he’d given her a wide berth until last night. How was she going to sleep, even in her own bed, and not succumb, when a kiss from him made her act like a sex-starved female? Twice she’d come close to having sex with him, and even knowing it wouldn’t mean more to him than any one-night stand, she wasn’t sure she didn’t regret, just a little, the fact they hadn’t.
Sex would only complicate things. Sex would magnify every action and reaction. Sex would change everything. Everything except the fact he could still sell her company.
“At the meeting tonight, I’m announcing our marriage to the crew members,” Ty said.
She could imagine the speculation that would go on. People wondering what the rush was, if she was pregnant, if JM knew, and how long it would last.
“You okay with that?” Ty pressed.
“It will be all over the circuit then.” If it wasn’t already. “They’ll be taking bets about how long it lasts, you know.”
“Does that bother you?” He straightened and pushed off the fence.
She shrugged. “A little. It feels like we are living a lie. Like we are doing something we know is wrong. It doesn’t feel…natural.”
“Maybe because we haven’t consummated it yet. That can be fixed any time you’d like, Mrs. Martin.”
Mandy ignored his comment. Being with him twenty-four-seven was getting to be an experiment in self-control she wasn’t sure would be successful. “We’d best get set up for the meeting. And I’m thirsty. I’m going to swing by the hospitality tent. You coming?” she asked.
“I’ll meet you there.”
* * *
Ty walked around the rodeo grounds to try to absorb the atmosphere. Rodeos were lively affairs with vendors of goods and food, local clubs, and attendees, some who looked like they’d stepped right out of the pasture and others who looked like they’d stepped out of an advertisement for western wear.
This was the life that both JM and Mandy were passionate about. This was the place they wanted to be over 250 days a year. It was a transient life but with one huge difference—the 30,000-acre ranch that anchored them. He was coming to realize, after just a few days, developing that ranch would never happen, regardless of whether he sold the rodeo company or not.
Maybe that was all for the best. He’d find some other property to develop. If the numbers said he should sell Prescott, Mandy would need the ranch and what it represented even more. And with the money from the sale of the company, she’d have the means to keep it going, even if ranching wasn’t all that profitable.
He didn’t quite know how to play things with Mandy. He knew she was attracted to him. When he had her in his arms, she seemed ready and willing to take it further. Then, out of the blue, she’d stop. She wanted to, but this damn option to sell Prescott kept bringing her up short.
Whether they fooled around or not would have no bearing on selling, so why wouldn’t she?
He passed by the trailers of the cowboys and cowgirls who had come to compete, and saw Harold at a makeshift table squeezed between two trailers and ringed by five bales of straw, each holding a cowboy with cards in his hands.
Harold looked up and beckoned Ty over.
“We’re just killing some time and taking a break,” Harold said by way of explanation.
Ty liked poker. He was pretty good at it.
“Who’s winning?” Ty wondered if he should angle for an invitation.
“Not me,” Harold said.
The rest of the cowhands concentrated on their cards. Ty wondered if they were purposely ignoring him. None of them said anything to acknowledge him, much less invite him to sit down and play a hand.
Knowing when he wasn’t wanted had been a skill he’d honed in his own backyard.
“I’m going to help Mandy set up.”
Harold nodded, and the other cowboys continued their stoic impression of wooden soldiers.
It didn’t bother him, not being part of things. That’s how he’d grown up. That’s how he’d spent most of his life. That’s where he was most comfortable.
* * *
Mandy looked at the stunned faces of the rodeo workers surrounding her and wondered what was going through their minds. They stood outside the small, empty arena where the rodeo would take place in just two hours. The gates hadn’t opened yet, so the only people around were involved in setting up, and most were Prescott employees.
Ty had just announced their marriage at the end of the prerodeo meeting.
Slim Matthews sported a frown when he looked up from the dust he’d been studying on the ground. Doug McClane was staring at Ty as if he’d committed a crime. The rest of the men seemed in similar stages of disbelief.
Harold stepped forward. “I’ve already celebrated your marriage, but on behalf of the crew, I offer you both our congratulations.” He turned to face the men. “This can only mean good things for Prescott’s future.”
Mandy could see Ty’s face redden, but the men began nodding their heads. It should mean a secure future for Prescott—if the marriage was a real one. Nonetheless, the men started coming forward, shaking Ty’s hand, and in turn offering their congratulations to Mandy.
Some of the crew offered her a hug, some a kiss, all their well wishes. She tried to act like a new bride, but that was the problem. It was just an act. She hoped they wouldn’t see through it. The last to step forward was Slim Matthews.
“I can’t say I’m not surprised,” Slim said, wrapping his skinny arms around her for a fatherly hug. “But if you’re happy, that’s all that matters.”
&nbs
p; A lump formed in her throat. She hated deceiving these people.
Slim turned his attention to Ty. “Just treat her right. I’ve known Mandy since she was a babe in her mother’s arms. She deserves the best.” He extended a weathered and calloused hand to Ty, who shook it and nodded, but he didn’t say a word back to the man. Slim ambled away, head down.
“We’ve had some contestants pull out, so I need to review the horses that are going to be turned out tonight.” What she really wanted to do was escape Ty and avoid any more scrutiny from the men.
“Mandy, we had to tell them.”
“I know. I’m not suggesting we didn’t. It just isn’t easy playing a role in front of people who deserve honesty.”
“Would you rather we told them the truth—that we married just to fulfill JM’s will?”
She raised her chin. “Maybe.”
He caught her wrist and raised her hand to his lips, giving her palm a little kiss. “In six months, it will all be worth it.”
She tugged her hand away, annoyed at the flush of warmth that filled her. “It better be.”
Tomorrow she’d be flying back to Wyoming, sleeping in the same bed with him, fighting biology, and wondering if she really wanted to win.
Chapter 12
Ty swiped the phone closed, feeling an all-too-familiar irritation. He looked out the window at the tarmac puddled with water from the showers that had come through earlier. Mandy had flown back from Washington with him through a late-afternoon shower, and once Ty landed the plane, she’d headed for the ladies’ lounge. At least she hadn’t lost her lunch this time.
Why his brother had called now, asking to see him after all these years, was a mystery that wouldn’t be solved until he went out to the old ranch. It had to be a humdinger of a reason if he’d condescended to call Ty after all this time. Trace Martin was as proud as they came, and asking his little brother to do anything for him meant a heap of swallowing.
