The Maverick Meets His Match (Hearts of Wyoming Book 2)(3)
If he was trying to intimidate her, it wouldn’t work.
“Here’s the thing, Mandy. I want the information from you. And I want you to go through it with me, number by number.” His tone was matter of fact, even if those tantalizing lips of his had flatlined.
“I need to understand the business if I’m going to lead it. And you’re the best one to show me.”
She could feel the blood pulsing at her temple, which meant she was on her way to an epic headache. Breathing deep, she cocked her head to get a better bead on his arrogance. “Here’s the thing, Ty. After today, I expect the family to own the required shares to vote you out of your role.” She prayed she was right. “And you won’t need to understand anything about the business.”
Leather creaked as Ty folded his long, lean, undoubtedly buff body into the padded chair while his dark eyes scrutinized her, as if her words puzzled him. She thought she’d been pretty darn straightforward.
Six tension-filled beats of her heart passed before he finally spoke.
“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see about that.”
At that moment JM’s nephew and Prescott’s livestock foreman, Harold Prescott, sauntered in, escorting her mother back from the ladies’ room. Weathered and graying, Harold was all cowboy, long and wiry with a conversational repertoire of a bronzed cowboy statue. Not that it mattered, since Harold dealt primarily with the animals and was as loyal as they came.
Mandy took a calming breath as greetings were exchanged and the two sat down, her mother next to her, and Harold on the other side of her mother. Taking pains not to spare Ty another glance, she looked past him to the doorway in search of her younger brother. Tuck was never one to worry about what time a clock chimed, so she was relieved to see him enter with Brian.
Except for the blond hair, Tucker Prescott was the spitting image of their late father, with his blue eyes and high-school-quarterback looks, though genes were all the two men shared. While her father had been deep into the business before his death ten years ago, Tuck preferred to ride in rodeos rather than stock them, adding to JM’s dismay. Tuck maintained he didn’t want to end up like their father, working too hard and never enjoying life. Instead, Mandy had taken up the mantle. Or tried to.
After giving both women a peck on the cheek and greeting Ty and Harold with a handshake, Tuck sank his long-limbed body into the chair next to Ty and across from his mother. Brian too went out of his way to shake everyone’s hand before settling into the head seat.
Mandy struggled with the unsettling prospect that Ty Martin might still be leading her family’s business after the reading of the will. Her leg jiggled seemingly of its own volition.
Had it come to this? Had JM held such little faith in her abilities?
It was hard to keep the doubts at bay when her mind replayed snippet after snippet of failures. And her grandfather’s corrections. Like the time she’d underbid a rodeo and her grandfather had docked her salary the five-thousand-dollar difference to make up for it. The time she’d brought too few rough stock to an event and her grandfather had to call in favors from other rodeo suppliers. The time she’d understaffed a rodeo and her grandfather had to hire temporary chute help from among the contestants. But she’d learned from those mistakes. She hadn’t repeated them.
What of your successes, Amanda Prescott? Those should count too, she reminded herself. How about wooing the largest rodeo within the Montana circuit and raising two National Rodeo Finals broncs, one of which achieved ProRodeo Riders Association horse of the year? What about hiring away one of the top pick-up cowboys in the business, increasing attendance by promoting the matchups between cowboy and the particular livestock, and bringing every rodeo in on budget for the last two years?
She shifted in her seat. Maybe Ty had been left some small remembrance, and she was fretting for no reason. Anything was possible.
“Now that everyone is here, we can get started.” There was an uncharacteristic officiousness in Brian’s voice as he shuffled through sheets of paper. Distinguished, late fifties, impeccably groomed, Brian had been the family lawyer for the past ten years. He read off the standard opening paragraphs of the will, which stated this will superseded all other wills and that her grandfather had been of sound mind. Mandy half listened. The other half of her mind was working through the odds of her taking over Prescott Rodeo Company given Ty’s presence. So far she hadn’t been able to get above fifty-fifty.
“I’ve a copy of the will for all of you, so I’ll just provide a summary of the pertinent facts. First off, your grandfather made a number of bequests.”
Brian proceeded to rattle off the cowhands who had been with Prescott Rodeo Company from the early days and the generous sums attached to each of their names. He ended with Mrs. Jenkins, JM’s housekeeper, who had come to work for him after Mandy’s grandmother had passed a few years ago.
It wasn’t clear where Mrs. Jenkins would end up now. It would depend on who would get her grandfather’s ranch house, Mandy supposed. Her bet was on Tucker.
“The real meat and potatoes of J. M. Prescott’s will has to do with Prescott Rodeo Company, and everyone at the table today is concerned by virtue of the contents of that document,” Brian explained.
As if synchronized, all of them turned their attention to Ty, including Mandy. Ty’s smile was closed lipped, his dark eyes never flinching under the scrutiny.