100% Pure Cowboy (11 page)
Instantly Cody knew that he had made a big mistake. She looked so incredibly pretty sitting there in the candlelight, so happy and carefree...He'd just wanted to let her know how very endearing he found that tiny hint of gray. He certainly didn't find it unattractive. Surely when one's child reached puberty, a strand or two of gray was well earned.
“Hell, I've got plenty.” He helpfully pointed to his temples.
“It's different for a man,” Danielle replied stiffly. How could Cody know that his remark was like an arrow to a heart already shot through with the philanderings of an ex-husband who wasn't above flaunting this year's younger model in her face?
“âA man looks dignified,'” she parroted Scott dryly. “âA woman simply looks old.”'
Not according to Arnie, Cody almost said out loud. It had been at his agent's insistence that he had grown his hair long to make him look younger, more hip. And while he truly did miss his mustache, Cody didn't miss that long mane of hot hair hanging down the back of his neck. When he returned to the circuit, he was determined to keep his hair nice and shortâwhether Arnie liked it or not.
“I didn't mean to offend you. Really.” Putting a finger beneath her chin, Cody tilted her face up so that her eyes met his. “What I meant to say was that nothing that comes out of a bottle could ever compare to the color of your natural hair. It's the color of dark fire. I can't believe you went to such lengths to hide it from the world.”
He meant every word. Though the gossip columnists had him pegged as a sweet talker, that was just the repetition of a long line of garbage that Arnie regularly fed the press. Just as Danielle had taken his comment earlier, words sometimes came out wrong for him. Was there any graceful way of extracting that big, old cowboy boot from his mouth?
“You're not old, damn it!” he said with conviction.
“You're a beautiful woman, and I like being with you. Do you know how nice it is to share a meal with someone who doesn't think MTV is the height of cultural awareness?”
Danielle warily gauged him for any sign of insincerity, but his last comment struck a common chord.
“Or thinks displaying one's boxer shorts beneath a pair of pants hanging around his knees is the height of fashion?” she added, rolling her eyes.
Their shared laughter relieved the tension between them. Taking another sip of wine, Danielle studied Cody at her leisure. Whereas Scott had his hair professionally highlighted to hide the gray and was planning on investing in hair plugs in a few more years, Cody wore his age like loose, comfortable clothing. There wasn't a phony bone in his body. A body that didn't need a fancy health club to tighten up the flesh, she added under her breath. Lynn and Ray Anne hadn't been the only ones to notice that there simply was no fat on that lean, hard body.
It came to Cody with something of a start just how much he was enjoying himself. Danielle had a way of putting him at ease, so much so that he almost gave himself away several times over in the course of the evening. Maybe it was just subconscious longing to confess his lie and let her know that he wasn't what she thought he wasâjust another worthless saddle burn. The truth of the matter was, despite all his subterfuge, the fact that Danielle hadn't recognized him stung a little. Somewhere in the masculine recesses of his heart was the all-too-human need to brag about his accomplishments. He hated that every time the topic of his past came up he had to downplay his success. If not outright lies, his answers were certainly evasive.
Yeah, I did a little rodeoingâonce upon a time.
He had a buckle the size of her head proclaiming him a national bareback champion.
He had a buckle the size of her head proclaiming him a national bareback champion.
Well, I do own a little spread around these parts.
A couple of hundred thousand acres, give or take a few thousandâmost of which they had been traversing for the past week to avoid the legal complications of crossing stateowned land.
A couple of hundred thousand acres, give or take a few thousandâmost of which they had been traversing for the past week to avoid the legal complications of crossing stateowned land.
That's real nice of you. Yes, a few people have encouraged me to pursue a career in music, but I'd hate to have to move away from Wyoming.
He was up for a Country Western Grammy this year for “Best Album,” and if Danielle ever connected his face with the one on the televised event, she was sure to be devastated by his deception.
He was up for a Country Western Grammy this year for “Best Album,” and if Danielle ever connected his face with the one on the televised event, she was sure to be devastated by his deception.
The thought of it drove a guilty fist into his gut. No matter how he tried to justify it, this was wrong. Cody took a deep breath and looked her square in the eye. It was time to come clean.
His eyes are like blue diamonds, Danielle thought to herself. So intense, so vividâand suddenly so troubled. Was Cody worried that she was falling in love with him? If so, his concern wasn't entirely unfounded, she realized in dismay.
The decent thing to do was to put this rambling cowboy's mind at ease. But how? Was there some way to tactfully let him know that he needn't worry about her looking for anything more than this easy, surprising friendship that had evolved between them? Surely he would be relieved to know she had sworn off marriage forever.
“Were you deeply in love with your wife?” she asked hesitantly.
Cody stiffened at this intrusion into the unhealed, hurting part of his heart. All thoughts of confession flew right out the window, and he could only nod in affirmation as that old lump lodged itself in his throat.
“You were lucky,” Danielle said.
Cody railed against the pity glistening in those limpid aqua-colored eyes. Lucky! Lucky to lose the woman he loved, the mother of his darling baby? Rachael had barely been twenty at the time of the accident. Danielle's poor choice of words pierced his heart.
“No, really,” she continued, choosing to ignore the murderous look he gave her. “At least you have the memory of true love. Some of us don't have even that much.”
As much as he wanted to end this conversation, Cody's curiosity was piqued, and Danielle continued without interruption.
“I hope you don't take exception to this, but I honestly believe it would be easier for me to be a widow than a divorcée. That way I could at least hold on to the illusion of love. I never would have had to face the deceptions, never would have had to watch love turn to disgust. I wouldn't have been treated like an outcast by people I thought were my friends. I wouldn't have to feel like I've let down my daughter and damaged her emotionally.”
Danielle's pain was almost as tangible as the taste of wine lingering in his mouth. Cody was uncomfortable with her confiding anything so personal to himâand with the responsibility that came with such knowledge. Something told him Danielle didn't spill her guts easily. The first time he'd seen her, red hair aflame and eyes burning with defiance, he'd pegged her as one of the most self-assured women he'd ever met.
She looked far less sure of herself tonight. Those incredible eyes appeared huge in a face pale with the solemnity of her disclosure. But perplexed by the anguish brought on by personal choice, Cody's voice lost its soft edge. “Being widowed isn't a thing to wish on anyone, especially not yourself.”
“Being the kind of man you are, I wouldn't expect you to understand.”
“And just what kind of man is that?” he asked, crossing his arms defensively over his chest.
“An honest oneâone who loved his wife and would never cheat on her. One who would rather choke on a lie than be anything but straightforward.”
She wrestled for a moment with her own sense of pride and finally came up with a beguiling smile. “While I have to admit that your charm eluded me at first...I have great faith in the judgment of children. I've watched the way you interact with the girls. You're every little girl's dream, Cody Walker, a white hat in a sea of black-hatted villains.”
A blush rose to his cheeks, and he rushed to stop her with a self-deprecating wave of his hand. But Danielle was determined to finish what she had started. “Mollie tells me you've broken dozens of hearts set on marching you up to the altar.”
“Not nearly a dozen,” he protested in embarrassment.
Danielle misinterpreted his discomfort. “You can relax around me. I doubt if I'll ever get over the pain of my ex-husband's betrayal, and as suspicious of men in general as I am, I'm not a likely marriage candidate. I just want you to know how much our friendship means to me. It wasn't all that long ago that I distrusted all men. Now I find that I can truly enjoy the company of an attractive man, one who makes me laugh and forget my worries for a while. That's a real gift. And I want to thank you for that. Thank you very much.”
Cody felt like a hypocrite accepting her kind words. Once again, just as he was on the verge of disclosing the truth about the lies he'd let this woman believe, damn if she hadn't gone and made it impossible for him to do so.
What a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive..
.
.
His mama's admonition came back to haunt him. Was that woman ever wrong about anything? Cody wished he deserved Danielle's sterling appraisal of his character. With all his heart he suddenly wanted that more than anything else in this world.
“Ah, honey, please don't look at me that way.”
Rachael used to look at him like thatâlike he was ten feet tall and invincible, a knight in shining armor who could keep all the bad things at bay. Well, she had been wrong about him, and so was Danielle. He wished he had the heart to tell her so, but if their time together brought this beautiful woman a little joy in a life riddled with pain, then he sure as hell wasn't going to mess with it just for the sake of easing his conscience. Like she said, neither one of them was in the market for marriage, and soon enough they would both return to their respective lives. Hell, what had he possibly hoped to accomplish by confessing his ruse to her now other than making her a full-fledged man hater?
“Your husband was a stupid jerk,” Cody muttered.
He couldn't imagine any man in his right mind risking the love of a woman like Danielle for the chance of getting a little on the side. If her kisses were any indication, this woman could keep any red-blooded man busy night and day. He secretly wondered if Danielle's earthy sexuality had made her ex feel impotent. Whatever the reason, if he ever ran into that sorry, lying, cheating scum of a husband, it would give Cody pure pleasure to drive a fist square into his pretty-boy face.
He didn't exactly know why he was suddenly feeling so all-fired protective about Danielle. He'd like to blame it on the wine, but he'd done his share of drinking after Rachael's death, and he seriously doubted whether a few glasses of wine could have that kind of effect upon him. He suspected it had more to do with a pair of trusting aquamarine eyes than with anything alcoholic in nature.
“There's going to be a dance tomorrow evening at South Pass, our next stop. I'd like it if you'd go with me.”
The words were out of Cody's mouth before he gave himself the chance to reconsider them.
Danielle's eyes brightened with surprise. “Why, I'd love to!” she exclaimed. Then, remembering where her responsibility lay, added as an afterthought, “But what about the girls?”
“I have a feeling they'll be preoccupied with the young cowboys helping with the branding for the Crystal Creek Ranch.”
Danielle found this news rather disquieting. The thought of her innocent, little girl gallivanting around with some virile, young cowboy aroused natural concern. The mere prospect of spending another evening with Cody shouldn't be enough to dismiss such maternal fears. It shouldn't have been as irresistible as it was.
Chapter Eight
D
anielle awoke to the warm glow of sunrise on the horizon. She stretched out her legs and wiggled her toes. It was going to be another beautiful Wyoming day. Her mind drifted to thoughts of Cody. Last evening at dinner she had trusted him with a tiny piece of her heart. He had proven tender, caring, and, if she was any judge of body language, a smidgeon protective. Eager to discover what lay in store today, she squirmed out of the warm cocoon of her sleeping bag, feeling a lightness of spirit she had not experienced in years.
anielle awoke to the warm glow of sunrise on the horizon. She stretched out her legs and wiggled her toes. It was going to be another beautiful Wyoming day. Her mind drifted to thoughts of Cody. Last evening at dinner she had trusted him with a tiny piece of her heart. He had proven tender, caring, and, if she was any judge of body language, a smidgeon protective. Eager to discover what lay in store today, she squirmed out of the warm cocoon of her sleeping bag, feeling a lightness of spirit she had not experienced in years.
As well as providing breakfast, Gus fixed everyone a brown-bag lunch for the road. Before the sun had climbed a quarter of the sky, the wagon train was well under way. Two hours later they arrived at a still-functioning gold mine on the outskirts of South Pass. It was run on a part-time basis by an older retired couple. Sarah and Homer Levin spent the cold winters in Arizona but during the summers chipped away at their claim, clinging to the hope that they might strike the mother lode that some maintained was yet to be discovered. Danielle found that pretty hard to imagine considering the fact that the mine had been open since the mid-1860s.
Almost before she knew what was happening, Danielle found herself two hundred feet below the valley floor touring the old mine. An ancient-looking lightbulb provided dim, flickering illumination. The narrow underway passages made her claustrophobic, and she reached for Cody's hand in the darkness. The warm, reassuring squeeze he gave her chased the fear from her bones. How gentle the big hand that enveloped hers. Such were the hands that helped little girls across creeks and big girls across fears. The thought made her heart swell, and she returned Cody's squeeze.
Grateful for his steadying presence next to her, she listened to Homer explain the dangers and the drudgery of turn-of the-century mining. Danielle was as fascinated to discover the meanings behind such colorful phrases as “Fire in the hole” and “Eureka” as she was appalled to hear of the owners' greed and enslavement of the poor.
Blinking like moles as they at last emerged from the bowels of the earth, she thanked God for the sunlight and the good luck of not being born a century earlier.
Just over the hill, the proprietors of the South Pass Historic Site had prepared a multitude of gala festivities for the wagon train's arrival. Those hearty souls in charge of maintaining the gold mining town had tried to preserve the integrity of the Old West in their plans. First on the list was a demonstration of panning for gold. The girls were issued large tin pans and instructed on the finer points of separating silt from gold. Since they were short on equipment, Cody offered to partner up with Danielle. Bending next to her beside a trickle of water dubbed Willow Creek, he slipped his arms around her and grabbed hold of the pan with both hands.
Danielle found herself enveloped in liquid fire. Knowing that the blazing sun overhead wasn't what was making her feel so woozy, she took comfort in the knowledge that if she were to faint, the iron arms around her would at least keep her from falling into the water. Leaning against Cody's chest was like resting against the trunk of an old cottonwood, sturdy, immobile, rooted deep in the soil of the windswept land that had nurtured it
Their instructor was a grizzled old man who looked like he had just stepped off a mountain man movie set. He directed them to, “Gently scoop some of the creek bottom mud into the pan with a little bit of water and swish it about.”
Around and around Danielle's head spun. Cody's breath, warm and sweet against the back of her neck, stirred all her senses, making it useless to remind herself that only last night she had sworn herself to nothing more than friendship. Begrudging the quickening of her heartbeat, she cursed her body's traitorous reaction and attempted to focus her attention on the man's instructions.
“Gold's heavy so it'll settle to the bottom of the pan as you wash away the sediments and impurities.”
His words buzzed inside Danielle's head like bees swarming a hive. Surely Cody knew as well as she that it wasn't the cold, high, country water sloshing over her wrists making her hands tremble so. Swallowing hard, she stared into the tin platter. There, glittering in the remaining sludge, was a scattering of brilliant flecks.
“Gold!” Her voice was squeaky with the excitement of her discovery.
“Of sorts,” Cody replied with a grin. “It's fool's goldâiron pyrite.”
“You mean, it's worthless?”
The disappointment evident in the tone of Danielle's voice made him wish he would have thought to sneak a golden nugget or two into her pan. The sheer pleasure of watching her face light up with excitement would have more than been worth the out-of-pocket cash.
Calling the girls over to have a look, Cody explained the distinction between pyrite and the real thing.
“History's full of people who've been fooled by this pretty yellow imitation.”
Lost in the depths of Cody's eyes, Danielle found herself thinking that they truly were the most incredible shade of blue, highlighted with bright bits of goldâperfect replicas of the ones in floating in her pan.
Fool's gold.
Warning lights went off in her head. Surely only a fool would fall for a man without knowing anything about his background, without being able to pin down exactly what it was about him that didn't seem quite right.
Shaking off the thought, Danielle handed her pan back to their instructor and suggested they check out the rest of the old ghost town.
Looking like ghosts themselves in their old-time garb, they wandered in and around the historic buildings that comprised South Pass. It was here in this all-but-forgotten landmark community that Esther Hobart Morris led her suffragettes to victory, bringing Wyoming fame and infamy.
Left to explore on their own, the girls canvased such spots as the Carissa Saloon where a bawdy painting of a naked woman still adorned the bar, a bank, a butcher shop, a pesthouse where Calamity Jane earned her nickname, and the infamous South Pass Hotel. Though the cramped, musty rooms were a far cry from the elegant quarters portrayed in movies, all the signs assured visitors that this establishment was one of the finest hotels of its time.
Littered with mining paraphernalia and buckboards, South Pass came alive with the hauntings of bonneted beauties not so unlike those who had trodden the quaint board sidewalks of days long gone. Trailing a stream of white against an azure sky, a jet plane lent a surrealistic touch to the scene.
Lynn and Mollie proved insistent about their parents accompanying them to the town jail. Having already perused the joint themselves, they had hatched an ingenuous plan to throw Danielle and Cody together for a private moment alone.
“Slow down,” Cody grumbled as his daughter dragged him by the arm across a wooden bridge toward the somberlooking structure.
Previously educating themselves via signposts, the girls explained how in this oldest jail in Wyoming the infamous Polly Bartlett, The Murderess of Slaughterhouse Gulch, was shot point-blank and killed. Supposedly before the law caught up with her, the ambitious Miss Polly had poisoned and robbed more than twenty miners at her family's way station south of town.
Lynn opened one of the three cell doors and bade them, “Go on inside.”
Feeling her skin crawl, Danielle assured them all that she had little desire to do so, but Mollie's rallying cry of “Chicken!” ultimately hastened her compliance.
With a gentle shove to the middle of his back, Cody joined Danielle. He had barely stepped inside the cell when the door slammed shut and the bolt slid tight into its steel fastening.
“Very funny,” Danielle commented dryly.
But the instant the girls' giggles and the soft sound of their footsteps on the dirt floor died away, their little practical joke didn't seem in the least bit humorous to her. Danielle suffered from a mild case of claustrophobia, and the eeriness of confinement in a closed jail cell that had no windows, no light at allâsave a solitary jagged hole cut into the bottom of the door through which to shove food to the prisonersâwas quite overpowering.
“It's no wonder so many men went mad in places like this,” she said, all too aware of the telltale quiver in her voice.
“Don't worry, they'll be back in a minute to let us out,” Cody assured her with a patience born of years of parental experience.
He was far less perturbed by the girls' prank than Danielle was. Knowing full well the intention behind the stunt was to cast them together for a few stolen moments away from prying eyes, he was more than willing to go along with the girls' shenanigans. Rare were the times when he found himself completely alone with this lovely woman, and the opportunity to respond to her on a purely physical level was quite appealing. Despite his determination to outwit his daughter's matchmaking, Danielle had indeed gotten under his skin.
Raising a child by herself, chaperoning a troop of troubled adolescent girls, tackling the asperity of the Oregon Trail with grit and humor, she had impressed him as an uncommonly strong woman. It surprised him how truly unnerved Danielle was by this harmless prank.
Wrapping his arms around her, Cody pulled her close. “There's nothing to be frightened of,” he murmured in her ear.
Nothing but me, he amended silently, succumbing to all of his senses. The woman in his arms felt too good to be true, so soft and warm, with the smell of wildflowers caught in her hair. Danielle shivered, and a surge of protectiveness shot through his veins. Even in the midst of summer, it was unbelievably cold inside the dank cell. But it wasn't the thought of warming her up that caused Cody to lower his head and cover her mouth with his own.
He devoured her. Nibbling, stroking, teasing, evoking feelings that had been so long asleep, Cody felt the pull of passion released. Danielle arched her back, making him excruciatingly aware of the full firmness of her breasts pressed against his chest. However prim and proper this woman was in front of a troop of Prairie Scouts, behind closed doors she was a hot-blooded vixen, intent on giving as good as she got.
The lady was pure nitroglycerin. Blindsided, Cody was unprepared for the heat shuddering through his body, pooling in his loins, clouding his mind. Urgency pumped through his veins. Tangling his fingers in the soft fire of her hair, he deepened the kiss as if to prove beyond any doubt that he could make her melt like warm chocolate in his mouth.
Had Danielle wanted to lie to herself, she could have said later that she hadn't known Cody was going to kiss her, but she never had been much of a liar. Instinctively she had understood that this incarceration would lead to the kind of kiss that made a woman's knees grow wobbly. The kind that made a grown, intelligent woman sweep aside any rational thought about the uncertain future and abandon herself to the sheer sensual delight of stolen pleasures.
Danielle indulged in the heavenly taste that was uniquely Cody's. She wound her arms around the solid column of his neck and hung on for dear life. How long that hot, soulwrenching kiss lasted, Danielle couldn't say. A minute. A lifetime. She only knew that when it ended, she found herself clinging to him, unable to remember who or where she was.
The sound of approaching footsteps compelled them both to rein in their thundering heartbeats. Leaving a soft caress of his hand, a burning brand, upon Danielle's cheek, Cody took a steadying step back.
A squeaky voice called from the other side of the door. “The games are about to start.”
“We knew you wouldn't want to miss out,” Lynn added in a nervous rush.
The hesitancy in their voices confirmed the fact that both knew they were in trouble. Hearing the bolt slide free, Danielle and Cody patiently waited for the heavy door to swing open.
It didn't. Leaving their parents to free themselves, the girls took off running in hopes that a good start and time would lessen the severity of any impending punishment. Loping away toward the Main Street where their friends were lining up for races, Mollie and Lynn exchanged knowing glances.
A few minutes later their parents joined the assembled crowd. All thoughts of retribution vanished as Danielle watched her troop of hard, city-wise adolescents struggle in their long skirts to win such long-forgotten competitions as the three-legged and burlap-sack races. A couple of weeks ago she couldn't have imagined that the same girls who whined over broken fingernails and petty disagreements would have ever engaged in such simple games with such gusto. Somewhere along the trail, those snobby “material girls” had been transformed into a real troop, able to appreciate the meaning of friendship and self-respect. That which could not be bought at a store or learned from a book had been obtained through hard work and some pretty terrific role-modeling by a wagon master who assured them they were as capable as males of doing whatever they set their minds to.
Despite the addition of a multitude of freckles on the bridge of her nose, countless blisters on her feet, and aches too numerous to mention from sleeping on the hard ground, just watching her girls compete with such childish lack of restraint made the entire journey worthwhile. So many good things had come from this difficult journey. Like her girls, Danielle, too, had discovered unknown depth to herself. Somewhere beneath that vast canvas of a blue Wyoming sky, she had made peace with her past and rediscovered a very special bond with her daughter. In the face of shared adversity, their differences had been swept away with the current of the treacherous Sweetwater River.
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