“Yes. Harold and Ty corralled it,” Mandy explained as she took a step back. She was embarrassed to be the center of attention for an audience of her rodeo workers. How was she ever to gain their respect if people kept fussing over her? And kissing her?
“Your daughter decided to be a hero,” Ty said, shaking his head.
“I did what any responsible owner of an escaped bull would do. What should I have done, let him stampede some poor patron in the parking lot?”
Ty stared at her like she was addlebrained. “Called for backup.”
“I did call. Why do you think Harold was already saddled and the other two cowboys rode in?”
Her mother looped her arm around Mandy’s. “I’m taking you to the hotel. You need a break.”
Mandy didn’t protest. She was being bombarded by emotions she couldn’t sort out right now, and the cause was standing there frowning.
“Well, I’m glad you’re okay, but Ty was right—what were you thinking?” her mother said before she took a sip from the hotel restaurant’s ivory mug.
Mandy wrapped her hand around her warm cup of tea. She’d have preferred coffee, but in her mother’s book, hot tea was the only thing that helped you through an ordeal.
“I had a duty, as the owner of that bull, to protect people.”
Her mother shook her perfectly coiffed blond head, as if her daughter didn’t understand the lesson. “That kind of protecting is for a man to do, Mandy. A woman, any woman, is no match for a two-ton bull.”
“He’s PRC’s responsibility. That means he’s my responsibility.” But she couldn’t deny that little tingle low in her stomach and the warmth flowing through her veins knowing Ty had protected her. Like a knight charging, he’d come to rescue her—as if he cared—about her. And then he’d kissed her. And it hadn’t been a peck on the cheek but a full-out, tongue-in-mouth, hard-to-breathe kiss.
She didn’t know what to make of it. Maybe it was the adrenaline of the moment. That had to be it. She couldn’t get her hopes up, because she feared this time the fall would be too far for recovery. Her mother’s lips pursed. “You’re stubborn, Mandy, just like your grandfather—and not his best quality.”
“I won’t refute either statement. But I am who I am.” And that meant she had to stay grounded and not romanticize a relationship that had no future. He was still going to sell her company if the numbers said so. A man who cared for her would never, ever do that. A man who just wanted sex to pass the time wouldn’t hesitate. Ty was definitely the latter.
“Yes, well…I didn’t bring you here to talk about PRC.” She set her mug down and brushed her fingers across the cream-colored tablecloth as if trying to dismiss the fabric’s soft wrinkles. She raised her head and looked straight at Mandy.
“I saw that kiss. Is there something you want to tell me?” Her mother’s eyes were wide with interest.
“Like what?” she asked, knowing full well what was on her mother’s mind. She just wasn’t sure she should share it yet, considering she didn’t understand what it was. She hadn’t a clue how to describe her relationship with Ty. And having sex with him had just muddied things further.
“Have you two…you know?” her mother pressed.
Mandy closed her eyes, knowing there was no escape. She opened them. Sheila leaned in.
“Yes. But it doesn’t mean anything.”
Shelia shifted back with a way-too-satisfied expression on her face. “That kiss I witnessed sure looked like it meant something.”
And it had felt like it meant something. But Mandy knew differently. “To Ty it’s just a way to pass the time.” Just saying those words sent a pinch to her heart. But it was the truth.
“Really? Could have fooled me. If this is how you two are after just a week or two, I’d place a bet on having a still-married daughter and maybe a grandchild in a year from now.”
If her mother only knew how much those words pained her.
“You’re whistling in a hail storm. There’s a canyon-size gap between what Ty and I have been forced into and a real marriage.” And Ty’s focus on selling made it an unbridgeable one. Too bad, because if Ty wasn’t so damn single minded in his pursuit of the almighty dollar, she’d seen some real promise in him after the visit with Trace and little Delanie. She’d gotten a glimpse, however small, of a man who could care about someone else, of a man capable of tenderness and in need of it.
“I’d like grandchildren, is all.”
Mandy leaned back against her chair. Her temple pulsed like a hammer gun popping nails. “And I hope to give you a grandchild someday. After I find the right man.” Whenever that might be, if that ever might be. What were her odds of finding a man who could share her dream for Prescott? And someone who would be good father material?
What if she never found Mr. Right? Or he turned out to be Mr. Wrong? She might have better luck finding a sperm donor than finding the right man. The pounding in her head got stronger.
Chapter 16