Two dozen cowboys, along with Mandy’s mother and Harold, stood among bales of hay, folding chairs, and work stools in the small tent designated for the event crew. Flies buzzed, and scents of horse, manure, and hay mingled with wafts of fried burgers and chili emanating from the hospitality tent next door as a country tune played in the background.
Clipboard in hand, Mandy gazed at the somber faces of Doug McClane, Slim Matthews, Patrick Saunders, Neil Tanner, Keith Bradshaw—Kyle’s brother—and the rest of the crew gathered at this, the first rodeo since JM’s funeral. She wondered how they would respond to the change in management. How should she present the fact that Ty was the boss but she was in charge, at least in her mind she was.
Movement near the entrance caught her eye, and she watched Stan Lassiter enter and stand to the side of the tent flap. She felt a headache coming on. Stan Lassiter was only assisting at this rodeo, yet he had decided to accompany his contingent to Greenville instead of sending one of his foremen. More than likely he had come to undercut her with the rodeo committee for next year. Stan certainly wasn’t above such a tactic, and it was no secret he’d been after JM to sell once he learned JM was ill. If only Stan wouldn’t make Ty aware of his interest.
She closed her mind to the thought of Prescott livestock being merged into the Rustic Rodeo operation. All the work Harold had put into the breeding program could end up benefiting a rodeo supplier who had never sent one horse or bull to the NRF in the last five years, while Prescott had sent at least one every year for the past twenty.
It was her show, and the humming birds flapping in her stomach didn’t help. Nor the fact Ty had situated himself on a stool right behind her as if he was grading her. He’d changed into the white dress shirt that proclaimed Prescott Rodeo on the back. The shirt was required attire for all employees who would be front and center at the event. He’d rolled up the sleeves, exposing hair-brushed forearms, like most of the cowboys did when the weather was humid, making him look more like one of the crew than suited her.
He hadn’t said a word to her when she’d come in. He may be able to ignore her, but she had a hard time ignoring him, considering all she could think about were the pros and cons of marrying him. And that was not a healthy place for her mind to go.
Seeing the last cowboy enter the tent, she stepped forward to speak just as Ty rose from his perch, a hand anchored on each hip.
“This is a difficult time for the Prescott Rodeo family,” Ty announced. “As many of you may know by now, JM left the overall running of the rodeo to me on an interim basis until Mandy is ready to take the reins.”
She felt her cheeks heat and her temples pound.
“Mandy and I will be operating Prescott Rodeo as a team,” Ty continued. “Mandy will continue to run the logistics as she did when JM was in charge, and I will take over JM’s role on the business end, such as contract negotiations and the like. If you have any questions or concerns, see either Mandy or me, and we’ll do our best to give you the answers.”
The pain in her head arced as Ty looked at her expectantly, like he was waiting for her to add something. There was much she wanted to add, but she’d save that for Ty. Right now, it was more important that the crew saw them as working together, however much of a fantasy that was.
“Let’s bow our heads and say a prayer in honor of JM,” she said, taking the high road.
As she recited the words to the cowboy prayer, her thoughts turned to past rodeos when JM would lead them in prayer. She wanted to believe that he would walk through the tent flap and upbraid them for starting the meeting without him, ending this nightmare his death had trapped her in.
She blinked back a tear as the prayer ended. Hoping no one would notice, she picked up her clipboard from the bale of hay. JM had been a stickler for details, and he’d taught her to be the same. She went through the rosters for each event, making sure that Harold, as the chute boss, knew who was riding what, and what calf or steer was to go with each contestant in the timed event. Besides the shadow of JM that permeated everything to do with the rodeo, she was supremely aware of Ty sitting behind her on a stool, no doubt evaluating everything she did.
“Doug and Slim, you will be timing the tie-down roping event. You have your positions marked in the arena?” she asked.
Gratified that both men nodded, she moved on. “Harold, you’re operating the chutes for that event. Were you able to test the chute operation?”
“I also tested them,” Ty answered as Harold nodded.