Mandy stepped out of the office building and into the bright sunshine of a late September morning. Ty was off doing god-knew-what, and so it was left to her to decide what bulls would be used for next weekend’s rodeo. She headed toward the pens. This next rodeo was a big one, and they would be expecting Prescott’s best.
The days had melded into weeks, and the weeks into months, and she still wasn’t pregnant. The sex, however, was mighty incredible. The attraction she felt for Ty had grown stronger with the knowledge that each time could be the moment they conceived their child. She had tried not to get too hyper about the ebb and flow of her cycle. Her doctor had warned her to simply relax and let it happen, as it surely would, given they were both healthy and everything was working.
She had tried to push from her mind any idea Ty would sell her company. He’d promised to advise her if any realistic offer came their way, and so far, none had. And she’d asked. Though it was known on the circuit that Prescott might be for sale, apparently tight credit and a struggling economy were giving any serious buyer pause. And Mandy didn’t consider Stan Lassiter a serious buyer, given his lowball offer.
It was true that negotiations on future contracts had been hampered by the rumors, since the rodeo circuit was a small community. But in just two more months, it would be over, and Prescott would be hers, free and clear. She could endure until she could announce with certainty that Prescott was not for sale, was off the block, was staying in the family for good.
Surprisingly, Ty had thrown himself into running Prescott like it would always be his, and it had been weeks since he’d brought up the prospect of selling. He’d worked every rodeo, like he promised, and he actually seemed to enjoy it. While they both worked on contract negotiations, she had become the front person, building up the relationships with the rodeo committees and managing the crew at the site, while Ty did the backroom stuff, such as drawing up the contracts, working out the logistics, developing the budgets, and setting up the schedule, freeing Harold to concentrate on the breeding program and the quality of the stock for each event. Once the responsibilities had been sorted, Mandy was surprised at how well they worked together. When Ty left, she would miss his contribution. Who was she kidding? She’d miss him.
That knowledge had been creeping up on her for weeks now.
A fly buzzed around her head, and she swatted at the air, hoping the insect would move on.
She liked being married. She liked having someone to share the day with, having someone who cared about her, someone who noticed.
She liked being married to Ty. The fringe benefits were amazing. But he also understood the business, more than she expected from a mere lawyer. She could talk to him about everything and anything, and he was interested, knowledgeable, and helpful. And the crew seemed more accepting of him. He’d even been invited to one of their poker games.
It was all too easy to imagine they were really married. Really running Prescott Rodeo Company together.
He acted married. He’d take her out to dinner on a whim, just to give her a lift after a particularly hard day. When they weren’t on the road, he’d make coffee for them in the evening, and they’d sit together sipping their coffee in the library as they watched some silly show on TV. And almost always, he’d find some excuse to lean over and give her a sweet kiss. That kiss would lead to more kisses, and before the next commercial she’d be gathered in his arms and they’d be helping each other unwind.
A smile crept across her face as she ambled along the gravel path, past the small arena they used for exhibitions, to the horse paddocks and corrals where the bulls were kept. She waved away the horseflies in a vain attempt to keep them from biting her bare arms, since she had on a sleeveless top. There was a mild breeze today, a reprieve from the recent heat that made denims cling to clammy legs.
Life was surprisingly good. And she wanted it to continue, but how was that going to happen? Ty hadn’t said anything about the future. He hadn’t talked about his job, whether his condo had sold or even if it was still on the market.
And she hadn’t asked. She was too afraid of the answers.
Rounding the corner of one of the barns, she shaded her eyes against the sun and focused on the pens holding some of Prescott’s prize bulls. Standing at the corral gate was Ty with a man she didn’t recognize.
Why would a strange man be looking over her premier bull stock? Rodeo committeemen didn’t routinely visit rodeo suppliers. Her stomach did a somersault. What if Ty hadn’t given up on selling Prescott?
She marched toward the two. Watching them appraise her bulls caused an ache deep within her, as if someone had driven a blade into her stomach and was pushing on the heel of the knife, making sure it went in deep.
Engrossed in conversation, neither man noticed her until she was within a yard of them. Then they turned.