Mandy had already questioned the amount that had been calculated for “goodwill,” declaring it hadn’t been high enough, and scoffed at the value assigned to the horses and bulls, arguing that both figures were too low.
He felt tense and exhausted, having been up half the night thinking about the prospect of having a baby with Mandy while she slept inches from him, their discussion earlier that evening having placed a momentary chill on things. He thought by getting married he’d have several months of guilt-free sex, and now here he was contemplating having a baby with her, making them some sort of family.
It certainly wouldn’t be a traditional one, but he would be a father to any child he brought into this world. What that meant he wasn’t sure, but oddly, he was curious to find out. He wouldn’t be an absentee father either. He had taken some time this morning to research the custody laws of the state, and he would make sure that he would be involved in raising the child. If he agreed to this, he wanted to do it with Mandy, not separated from her. Trouble was, it wasn’t clear what that arrangement would look like.
If it wasn’t for circumstances that seemed to pit them against each other, he could almost see himself married to her, raising a family with her, and running Prescott Rodeo Company. It would mean belonging somewhere and to someone he had begun to care about.
But reality was, it would never happen. Not now. Not with the figures that showed the Prescott family would be better off investing their money in stocks and bonds than in horses and bulls.
“You say Stan Lassiter offered you only eighty percent of this figure?” she said, looking up from the paper and casting her cool, green-eyed gaze on him.
Ty nodded.
He wanted more than to do right by her. He wanted her to agree he was doing right by her. He wanted her approval—and understanding. He was working to make her a wealthy woman—not to rob her.
But the frostiness in her eyes said she was having none of it.
“And you have had no other offers?”
“I haven’t officially announced yet that PRC is for sale. I wanted to wait until I had good numbers. Stan just jumped the gun. I think he wanted to see how desperate we were.”
Mandy straightened. “I am not desperate. I don’t want to sell.”
“If we could get an AFBR contract, we’d be able to increase the value of the company considerably as well as make it even more attractive to buyers.”
“I’m only interested in making it more attractive to keep. You acknowledge PRC is profitable?”
“The profit margins aren’t big enough, Mandy. Especially when you take into account the tenuous nature of things. Take this herpes virus that was afflicting horses last year. Rodeos get cancelled, stock gets sick. Suddenly you have a bad year. You’d get more with less risk by selling and leaving the money invested.”
“I see you calculated an eight percent return on the proceeds from the sale. Think you can get that these days, because I’d like to know where?”
“I assumed some of the money would be invested in the stock market, and in that case, the estimate is conservative.”
“Invest so bankers and gambling Wall Street types can loot it? And you have the nerve to talk about risk?”
“Recent events keep me from arguing that point, but let’s hope that was an aberration.”
She snorted.
“I should have the figures for the development of the ranch in the next day or two. I’d like to go over them with you.”
“You have not been listening. We are not selling the ranch. That’s nonnegotiable.”
“All I’m asking is for you to look at the figures. Just want you to know what you’re turning down.”
Mandy sighed. “After the roundup and barbeque.”
Ty had wasted no time in getting Trace’s agreement to a deal on the cattle, and Ty had arranged for the roundup to take place near the end of the week. Mandy had decided to throw a good old-fashioned barbeque for all the hands who participated, and she’d invited two of her friends to join them, one who had a son near Delanie’s age and the other who had a rodeo bronc rider for a husband, who was also supposed to be a decent roper. Since it was happening right before the Cheyenne rodeo, even Tucker promised to be there.
Trace would bring Delanie when he selected his cattle, and Mandy had agreed to watch the tyke while she set up and her mother and Mrs. Jenkins handled the cooking chores. It was damn decent of her. She kept saying that Trace was family, but they both knew differently.
“When will you give me an answer to my question? About having a baby?”
Ty fiddled with his pen. He owed her an answer—one way or another. “Same day you look at the figures for the ranch.”
“So if I say no to the deal, you’ll say no to the baby.”
“Only one way to find out.”
*