“That is a million-dollar, or more, question. Our lawyer thought he was trying to play matchmaker, which is such an absurd idea. As for selling, I can only assume he had no faith in me.”
“Well, I can relate to family having no faith in you. That’s pretty much how I was raised,” Cat said, taking a swig of beer. “But surely you already proved yourself to your grandfather, and if he had such little faith, why did he allow you to run the company in six months if you married?”
“It makes no sense,” Mandy agreed. “But regardless of why he did it, what am I to do about it?”
“I’d do whatever I had to do to save our family ranch. Kyle Langley, my lawyer, keeps urging me to sell it, but I want it for my son.”
Libby patted her barely round stomach. “I can understand that now.”
“But I don’t have a child—not that I don’t want one but…my mother may be right about my marriage prospects. I seem to scare men away. Maybe I should just let Ty take the company, sell it if he finds a buyer, and take the money and start running the ranch for a living.” Life would be easier if she could convince herself not to care.
Cat snorted. “There is no money in ranching, let me tell you. And it’s damn hard work. Sometimes I question what I’m doing trying to keep it, considering I know next to nothing about running a ranch because no one ever thought enough of me to teach me.”
“Truth is, I know and love rodeo, not ranching. They are two different animals—literally.”
“I think you have your answer,” Libby said. “And worst case, you’ll have a little fun while you’re saving your company.”
Mandy grimaced. “That’s what my mother said.”
Chapter 7
Mandy waited outside the door of Brian’s office, her heart pummeling her rib cage. She was really going to do this? It was still a question. She glanced at her mother, who stood with Harold, watching her as if she were a horse ready to bolt. A realistic fear given how she felt.
“Honey, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” Her mother was dressed in a stylish lilac sheath. “I know I was encouraging you, but now that you’ve decided, I’m having second thoughts myself. What was JM thinking, Harold?”
Harold shook his Stetsoned head. For the occasion, he’d donned the same dark suit he’d worn to JM’s funeral, probably the only suit he owned. “Damned if I know. This is the darnedest thing I’ve ever heard of. Sounds like something out of the Middle Ages. Ty’s all right, I guess, but why JM wanted you to marry him in order to run the company, I don’t understand.”
“By the way, Harold, I didn’t get a chance to say congratulations. Mom told me.”
A slow smile slid across his weathered face. “Thank you, Mandy. Guess that’s gonna make me some sort of in-law to Ty.” His expression turned determined. “I can have a word with him if you want.”
“I appreciate the offer, but it’s not like this is a real marriage. I mean, a lasting one. Six months it will all be over, and this will just be a footnote in my life.” Some footnote.
“I don’t know, honey,” Sheila said. “Marriages are supposed to be happy occasions. You look like you’re going to another funeral, not your wedding.”
Mandy straightened her shoulders and smoothed the skirt of the pastel-blue jersey dress she’d pulled from her closet. Certainly not the Cinderella dress she’d imagined for her wedding. And not the groom either.
This isn’t a real marriage.
What it was, however, had yet to be defined. An affair? An arrangement? An agreement of the personal kind? None of them sounded honorable or even decent.
An indecent proposal, concocted by, of all people, her traditional, conservative grandfather.
“I’ll be fine. It’s not like he’s evil or anything. I just don’t trust him with the company.”
Not a very flattering portrait of the man she was going to wed.
There was still time to back out.
The door opened.
“I thought I heard voices.” Brian poked his gray-haired head out of the door. “All set?” He eyed her like he too expected her to bolt. “He signed the prenup, and I gave him your signed copy.”
Mandy nodded, feeling both a sense of dread and, oddly, anticipation. “I’d like to see Ty first. Alone,” she said, looking at her mother and Harold.
“Traditionally, it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the ceremony,” Shelia said, placing a protective hand on Mandy’s forearm.
“This is hardly a traditional marriage, Mother.” And it wasn’t like her luck could get much worse.
With an accepting nod, Shelia walked through the doorway, Harold following, as Brian disappeared inside, presumably to fetch Ty.
Mandy worried her lower lip as she waited, her hands clasping and unclasping. She could still turn around and walk away.