Read The Maverick Meets His Match Online
Authors: Anne Carrole
Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Western, #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary Fiction, #Westerns
God, she was flirting with him. And he liked it. His whole body tensed in response to the light in her eye.
He waggled his eyebrows. “So you do admit it was good sex?”
She tilted her head, and the left side of the mouth crooked up in a smile. He liked this flirty Mandy. He liked her a lot.
“Yes. But you knew that. You shouldn’t need your ego stroked. It’s big enough.”
“And with all these faults, you still want me to be the father of your child?”
“Yes. Because you are also smart, ambitious, and surprisingly aren’t afraid of hard work. And you are rather nice looking. I’m willing to take the good with the bad.”
“Well, thank you. I think. But I feel like I’m being sized up for my genetics, like those bulls you breed.” Not that he minded.
“I didn’t mean to sound so clinical. But we are married, so it’s convenient. And we are planning to divorce, so that’s also convenient.”
“You want my sperm, and then that’s it? I’m to get out of your life?”
Unfortunately, the waitress came to clear the plates at that moment. She avoided eye contact as she grabbed the dishes and then hurried away.
“If you want to be more involved, of course you can be,” Mandy resumed. “But I would have custody of the child. That would have to be agreed to in advance. However, you just said you’re not a family man, so I don’t want you to feel obligated, is all. I’m perfectly capable of raising a child, and I’ll have lots of help. And if it’s a boy, there will be plenty of role models around.”
A boy. What kind of father would his son need? Or his daughter, for that matter. And shouldn’t he be that role model? “What if Prescott is sold?”
“I’m hoping the economy keeps stock contractors from being able to buy it, but if I can’t keep you from selling, there is still the ranch. That will never be sold.” She shook that pretty head of hair, long silky hair that felt so nice brushing over a man’s skin. “Ever.”
“The numbers for the company came in late today. I thought we could go over them together tomorrow morning. The numbers on the ranch won’t be in for a few more days though.”
“I’ll hate you if you sell Prescott, you know. Even if we have this child together. But at least by giving me a child, you’d be giving me something precious in return for what you’ve taken away. Not that you care about my feelings.”
Hell. She did think he was the devil. Why couldn’t she see that if he did sell Prescott, it would be to protect her and her family? To make sure they were economically taken care of? An even more important factor if they had a child together.
“I’d want to be part of the child’s life. And I’d want to make sure the child was financially taken care of. I could set up a trust or something.”
He couldn’t believe he was actually thinking about it. And neither could she, by the size of the grin on her face.
“That would be fine. But I don’t want you to feel you’d have to do any of that.”
The waitress appeared with their food. Steak for him. Pasta for Mandy. Given how quickly the waitress took her leave, Ty was pretty sure she’d been appalled by their discussion.
“I’ll think about it. It’s a big commitment. A lifetime commitment, Mandy.”
“I’m aware of that. And I’m all about big commitments, Ty. Prescott. The baby. The ranch. It’s the kind of person I am.”
The obvious and unsaid implication was it was the exact opposite of who he was.
“Am I to assume no sex if I say no.” And that would be a shame.
“Don’t make it sound like I’m using sex to blackmail you. I’m not. We do have a physical attraction to each other, but trying for a baby would change the dynamic, for the better.”
“Attraction isn’t enough for you?”
“I want more.”
Did he want more?
“I’ll think about it.” It was the best he could promise.
She bit her lip. “I hope you will give what I asked serious thought, Ty.”
He’d give it nothing but serious thought.
The next day Ty watched as Mandy scanned the figures on the sheet he’d presented to her as they sat in the office formerly used by JM. Karen had packed up all signs of JM except the leather saddle that still sat on its stand in the corner, like the finely embossed and polished piece of art that it was.
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.”
A soft breeze wrapped around Mandy as she grabbed Delanie, dressed in her tiny denim jeans, T-shirt, and cowgirl boots, from Trace’s arms and settled the little girl in front of her on the saddle. Willow had stood still, as if sensing the precious cargo entrusted to her. The psychologist Trace had found with Ty’s help must have made some difference, as Delanie now allowed her father to hold her. Such a simple thing, yet so complicated for one so young.
Trace touched the brim of his hat and whirled around the quarter horse he’d brought over in a much-used trailer, to face the herd milling in the open field. The cattle swirled up dust as they moved, and their lowing filled the air.
Trace had insisted on paying the going rate, but Mandy and Tucker had agreed that Trace should get a discount. As if they really were family.
She wished it were so. But Ty’s inability to see beyond the dollar signs on a page made any happily ever after unlikely, however much she was attracted to him physically, however much she admired his business acumen—though not when it came to Prescott Rodeo. Of course, if he agreed to a child, he would be part of her life, part of her child’s family forever.
It was a risk. She’d seen glimpses of promise in Ty—but the substance remained elusive.
She was looking forward to this mini roundup, watching Delanie, and hosting a barbeque for those helping out. She was happy the occasion had coincided close to the start of the Cheyenne rodeo occurring that weekend. It meant Tucker could participate. And Libby’s husband, Chance, had offered to help when Mandy had invited them to the midweek barbeque. Libby would meet up with her husband at the barbeque, after the dealership she managed closed. Cat would be coming also, with Jake. She was anxious for both her friends to meet Ty, and little Jake might prove to be the perfect playmate for Delanie.
She nuzzled Delanie's hair, breathing in the fresh baby-shampoo scent, careful not to crush the cowgirl hat hanging off the back of the child’s head by the chin strap. Mandy had bought it for her along with a cute little sundress for later. She hadn’t been able to resist.
Delanie waved as Ty maneuvered his new horse, Paddy, toward them.
She’d been amazed at what he’d paid for the horse, whose full name was Paddy’s Four Leaf Clover. It was sired by a champion cutting horse out of Texas. It was the kind of horse that would have been home in the arena. But Ty had wanted the best for his work horse, and he’d paid top dollar for it. Since he wouldn’t be staying for good, Mandy could only imagine he would use the animal as an investment, eventually leasing it out to some lucky rider.
“Unky Ty,” Delanie called.
The smile that lit her husband’s face at the title touched Mandy’s heart. Who would have thought this calculated businessman would go soft for a little girl.
“Hey, peanut,” he called affectionately. “You watching?”
She nodded as Ty waved and then rode away.
“Where is he going, Aunt Mandy?”
She could get used to being this little girl’s aunt for real.
“Your father and Uncle Ty are going to go into the herd, and when they see a heifer your father likes, they are going to bring it out of the herd. It’s called cutting, but it has nothing to do with anything sharp. They are just going to maneuver the animal to the edge of the circle, and then the cowboys, with the help of their horses, will get it to that pen over there.” She motioned to one of the holding pens. “Whatever heifers they put in that holding pen will be delivered in trailers to your house tomorrow.”
“They need all these cowboys to do that?” she asked, sitting up straighter, as if on alert. There were about a half-dozen mounted men who ringed the herd, including Chance Cochran and her brother. A few more sat on the railings of the holding pen, watching. Delanie was tense, a reminder that the little girl still had a ways to go in the trust department.
“Those cowboys are there to keep the rest of the herd together,” she explained, hoping to ease any worries. “See,” she said, pointing to Ty, who had moved toward one of the cows. "Uncle Ty’s on one side, and your daddy is on the other side. Let’s see if they can do it.”
Mandy frequently applauded with Delanie as the brothers worked rather deftly together for two men who hadn’t been in the same pasture for years. Only if she looked closely could she spot a bit of sibling rivalry. Though Ty worked his horse expertly, Trace showed more experience in maneuvering the cattle.
A half hour later, Delanie was getting fidgety, so Mandy headed her horse back to the ranch house, where her mother could fuss over the little girl.
“This may be the closest I’ll get to a grandchild,” Sheila grumbled as she helped the child change into the new pink polka-dot sundress. “I’m going to enjoy her while I can.”
And this may be the closest I get to having a child
, Mandy thought ruefully.
As Mandy helped her mother and Mrs. Jenkins get the picnic table set and the meal ready, Delanie helped in the best way a four-year-old could, by playing her own version of house with the small set of plastic pots and pans Sheila had fished out of the basement and set in the yard. Seeing those old, familiar childhood items sent a pang of regret through Mandy. Those had been lovingly saved for her children. Not that she begrudged using them to amuse Delanie. On the contrary. It just served to remind her of what she wanted and might never have.