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.
It would have felt good to hold her again after days of denial, except for the sobs that now racked through her.
After a minute or two, it was over. The sobs vanished, and the shaking stopped. Her warm breath upon his shoulder came in small, even puffs.
“I’m all right,” she said, pulling back from his embrace. “I don’t know what came over me.” She swiped a hand under her eyes, spreading the dampness over her cheek.
Ty remained on his haunches as he searched her face for some clue as to what she was thinking. In the kitchen of his family home, her tears should have been a painful reminder of his mother’s crying, as she had done so often in his young life. But these tears were different. More emotional, yet happier. And totally unexpected.
“Why did you change your mind?” She sniffled. The woman could probably use a tissue. Ty rose, scoped out the napkin holder on the counter, retrieved a textured sheet, and handed it to her. She promptly blew her nose.
He waited until she was done, wondering just how he would answer her question. It was an important question because the reasons he gave would have to change how she felt about him. She needed to understand that he saw things differently, or there would be no hope for them.
“I finally realized that I can fulfill JM’s wishes in another way.”