When they finally broke, he stared at her as if he was searching for the answer to his silent question from before.
“I want to take you back home, strip you naked, and make love to you, Mandy Martin. Make that baby.”
“It will have to wait until tonight. We’ve work to do.”
“Later then. That’s a promise.” He kissed the tip of her nose. She felt like she could dance on air.
*
Ty wanted to urge Paddy into a full-out run, but he held back. He could use the time to work out what he was going to say, and riding in companionable silence next to Mandy mounted on Willow would give him that time. It was a bright fall afternoon in Wyoming, and the breeze was cool, the air mild, and the grasses lush.
He had convinced Mandy to take a horseback ride and have a picnic dinner. He had things to discuss. They hadn’t had many chances to ride during the hectic summer season, but now that the circuit had calmed down as fall arrived, they didn’t have a rodeo every weekend.
Which meant they had time to start planning for next year—when he would no longer be with Prescott Rodeo, with Mandy. Unless…
He’d been trying for days to figure out what to say and how to say it and if he should say it. This would be the biggest commitment of his life. And if she said yes, he’d be taking on the responsibility of someone else’s happiness, and that sacred the crap out of him. Of the few people whose life had once intersected with his, he hadn’t made any of them happy. And he wondered if he could make her happy.
Didn’t look like they would have to sell Prescott, given they were only six weeks from the six-month finish line and he hadn’t had any offers except for Stan’s early lowball bid. It was a relief knowing he had done his best, but he would be leaving Prescott in Mandy’s hands, and with the AFBR potential, PRC would be in better shape for her. That would make her happy.
Maybe she’d want him to move on so she could run PRC all by herself. She didn’t need him. She was fully capable of handling it herself. And so what was the value to her of being married to him?
Nothing.
So far, he hadn’t even been able to give her a child. That had been surprisingly disappointing. The doctor had said everything was working, and he was relieved he wasn’t shooting blanks, but shouldn’t she be pregnant by now? Because it wasn’t for lack of trying.
Yeah, the only thing he could offer her was sex. And he knew from experience that wasn’t enough.
Up ahead the creek was coming into view. He wondered how she’d feel about the spot he’d chosen. He wanted her to know that he was willing to make a fresh start and put the past, their past, behind them.
He glanced over at Mandy, her horse keeping pace with his. He loved the easy way she sat a horse, her cute butt glued to the saddle like the horsewoman she was.
She had twined the reins around her long, elegant fingers. Those slender fingers were at odds with the type of work she often did. He’d told her to let the hired help clean out the barn or curry the horses, but he’d often find her working side by side with one of the hands just to get the job done. She always comported herself like a lady, but she didn’t think twice about doing tasks most “ladies” would never touch.
He still didn’t know what he would say to her or if he would have the courage to ask her. Maybe he should just get to the creek and wing it. He padded his breast pocket to assure himself the rings were still there and then checked behind him to make sure the picnic basket was securely strapped to the back of his saddle, giving the basket a firm tug for reassurance.
“Race you,” he called out, and gave Paddy a gentle kick. The sorrel lurched into action, apparently happy to be given rein to run. Air whipped across his face as he urged Paddy forward. A quick glance behind confirmed that Mandy had followed at a pounding pace.
Ty headed for the copse of trees in the distance, the beating of hooves in time with the rapid beating of his heart. Anything was possible, he reminded himself, and nothing was certain.
Mandy pulled Willow up at the edge of the bank that gently sloped into the creek. The familiar rock she’d once hidden behind loomed over the water. She’d lost the race. Willow had given it her all, but the prized cutting horse from Texas was too much for her. Mandy could relate, but she wondered why Ty had chosen this spot for their picnic.
He’d already tied Paddy to a tree limb and was unbuckling the straps that secured the picnic basket and blanket, his large fingers working the knots.
She’d been surprised when he’d suggested a picnic dinner and even more surprised that Mrs. Jenkins had apparently known about it since, when they arrived home, fried chicken, biscuits, and corn on the cob were already packed in a hamper. Ty had pulled out a bottle of wine from the fridge, and they had set off.