100% Pure Cowboy (8 page)
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It wasn't easy straddling the rear end of a horse with her skirt clamped around her lower body like leg irons. Not wanting to risk the ignominy of falling off in mid-rescue, Danielle held on for dear life as they took off toward the shore. Thoroughly shaken by the experience, she allowed herself the comfort of laying her head against Cody's broad back.
When was the last time she had let herself cling to anyone? For far too long, Danielle had been the mortar holding Lynn's and her lives together, and she couldn't allow herself to crumble the least little bit. Still she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to share her life with a man who was strong enough to provide protection and secure enough to offer independence. She didn't want to feel the kinds of vibrations that Cody was giving off from any man, but with her arms wrapped around his middle, denying them would be an outright lie.
Yes, indeed, she realized with an involuntary little shudder, she was definitely in over her head. Way over.
Chapter Five
U
ntil Cody felt his passenger tremble against his back he hadn't realized just how frightened she really was. Had Danielle but asked, he would have gladly carried her across on Champion and spared her the ignominious dunk in the river. Who in her past had hurt her so badly that she would risk her neck rather than ask for help?
ntil Cody felt his passenger tremble against his back he hadn't realized just how frightened she really was. Had Danielle but asked, he would have gladly carried her across on Champion and spared her the ignominious dunk in the river. Who in her past had hurt her so badly that she would risk her neck rather than ask for help?
Apparently she was afraid that any sign of vulnerability would compromise her self-reliant image of a single mother capable of doing it all. Behind the mask she wore Cody suspected was a hurting, wounded little girl. One who caused a fierce surge of protectiveness to well up inside of him.
He struggled against the uncomfortable feeling, hoping to find some way of restoring the tentative friendship that had so recently blossomed between them.
“Heck of a way to finally wrangle yourself a ride in a wagon, lady,” he said with a cockeyed grin as he set her gently into the back of the infirmary wagon.
“This is silly,” Danielle assured him. “I am perfectly capable of walking on my own two feet.”
Unused to anyone fussing over her, she was surprised by Cody's insistence that she take it easy for the remainder of the day. It was ironic: now that he wanted her to ride in a wagon, she didn't want to. Would they forever be at odds? Danielle wondered, grimacing at his instructions to Rose to “take it slow and easy” with her.
In reply the old lady merely spat a long string of tobacco juice upon the ground and wiped a dirty sleeve across her chin. Personally Danielle would have preferred spending the rest of the day with a rattlesnake. Despite her claim of being a certified R.N., Rose did not present the typical image of the nurturing nurse. Florence Nightingale she wasn't. Nonetheless Danielle didn't fight Cody too hard for her pedestrian rights. She really was a tad bit woozy, and the last thing she needed to top off her list of embarrassing stunts for the day was to faint dead away on the trail. As the wagon lurched forward, she couldn't tell exactly what it was that Rose muttered under her breath. Whatever it was, Danielle got the distinct feeling the old lady was less than thrilled with her company.
Rose seemed to be the only one not overreacting to what Danielle was to henceforth refer to as her “little spill.” Knowing that her mother was a not a strong swimmer, Lynn had become hysterical when Danielle tumbled down the river. It both surprised and pleased her that Lynn periodically stopped by the wagon to check in on her. The sincere concern for her welfare served to bring home the fact that despite her daughter's repeated claims of maturity, Lynn was still her little girl. It also reinforced just how terrified she was of losing her mother as well as her father.
Paradoxically, the ride that Danielle had once so coveted proved to be far less comfortable than walking. It was so jarring that it felt like her teeth were being rattled right out of their sockets, and though her legs were somewhat wobbly after her experience, Danielle doubted whether the benefit of putting her feet up outweighed the headache that such jolting transportation induced. For some reason the packed earth of the trail was a favorite spot for badgers to dig their holes, and every time they hit one squarely, Danielle worried she was going to be tossed right out the back of the wagon.
She was grateful when the wagon train came to rest and a golden head popped up over the tailgate. White teeth flashed in a grin as Mollie pulled a bouquet of wildflowers from behind her back. Smuggled inside the bright blossoms was a contraband chocolate candy bar.
“You're an absolute doll!” Danielle exclaimed, unwrapping the candy bar and breaking it evenly in two.
Mollie shook her blond ponytail selflessly. “No thanks. You can have it all...You're gonna need it.”
Danielle cocked an eyebrow at the cryptic statement.
With an impish grin Mollie explained, “Dad's doing the cooking tonight.”
“W-what?” Danielle sputtered through a mouthful of chocolate. For some reason she found herself perturbed to find herself so easily replaced.
“He says you're still tuckered out by your experience this afternoon and you're not to lift a finger 'round camp tonight.”
Danielle was still feeling pretty foolish about her afternoon performance, and despite his good intentions, Cody's offer only made her feel worse. She was torn between the desire to get up and prove her stamina and not wanting to hurt Cody by throwing his gift back in his face. After all, it was the sweetest gesture Danielle could remember any man ever making in her behalf. She couldn't help comparing it to the time Scott had dragged her out of bed with a temperature of a hundred and one to make him breakfast. In all their years of marriage, Danielle couldn't remember her husband ever so much as fixing her a simple cup of coffee.
As if reading her thoughts, Rose cocked her head in Danielle's direction. “If I was you, missy, I'd sit still and just be grateful.”
So Cody even had this cantankerous old gorgon under his spell. Danielle didn't bother pointing out that she hadn't asked Rose for her opinion. She was too busy wondering what could have possibly compelled Cody to make such a selfless offer on her behalf.
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A few days ago Cody wouldn't have lifted a finger to stop a certain flashy redhead from floating right out of the state of Wyoming. He could no more account for why his heart had clenched into such a tight fist when Danielle fell into the river earlier in the day than he could explain what had compelled him to volunteer to cook supper for a troop of ravenous teenage girls. One taste of his cooking and, he supposed, Danielle would assume it was to poison them all.
His culinary abilities were limited to mixing up bowls of instant oatmeal and occasionally exploding hot dogs in a microwave. Cody scratched his head. He could manage well enough on the grill, and the thought of a barbecue set his taste buds to tingling. He didn't even have to look far to spot a nearby cow wearing his Double C brand, but he doubted whether he could come up with an explanation for butchering what the Prairie Scouts were bound to believe was rustled cattle.
He reached up to stroke his mustache and, finding it gone, swore under his breath. This whole incognito business was proving more bothersome that he had first imagined.
He wondered whether his agent had called the National Guard yet or if his sudden disappearance had been noted in any of those slick Hollywood tabloids that tried to give credence to all the most morbid speculations. For all he knew, they had already printed an article on his impending death from some horrible and incurable disease right next to one about aliens populating the White House.
It was the kind of trash that made the air out here smell even sweeter. The simple pleasures of breathing fresh air, feeling a horse beneath him again, and spending time with Mollie under the infinite Wyoming sky, unencumbered by the pressures of the job was so right that Cody simply couldn't bring himself to feel particularly guilty about aggravating Arnie's ulcer. He knew his agent would have a good laugh if he could see his most promising client don a cook's apron with more trepidation than he'd ever experienced facing a cheering crowd of thousands.
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Though Cody dubbed his specialty “wagon master hash,” the girls came up their own names for the slimy concoction he attempted to pass off as the evening meal.
“Trash is more like it,” suggested Mollie.
“I think it's called Something on a Shingle,” Ray Anne Pettijohn volunteered.
“Shâ” Lynn promptly supplied.
“Lynn!” Danielle interrupted.
Perhaps swearing was as in vogue among Lynn's friends as it was in the mass media, but her mother was determined to break her of the nasty habit.
“Well, whatever it is, it's awful,” grumbled Inez Quest, poking her fork into her dinner plate as if it were some unidentifiable roadkill.
When Cody clasped a hand over his heart in mock pain, Danielle surprised herself by rushing to his defense.
“You girls aren't being very gracious about Mr. Walker's offer to make your dinner. After such rude treatment, I wouldn't be in the least surprised if he refused to ever sing for you again.”
The threat had an effect upon the group, who offered quick, if not sincere, apologies to their wagon master and forced themselves to choke down a polite portion of their dinners.
They absolutely adore him, Danielle thought in wonder. Who would have thought her streetwise girls could ever have been motivated by this cowboy's distinctive country-western warble? She suspected that the girls would have been just as enthralled had he belted out old Lawrence Welk tunes on an accordion. Call it charisma, audience appeal, or pure magic, Cody Walker naturally seemed to have that special something that so many entertainers strive their entire lives to attain.
As a matter of routine, he had brought his guitar along. Danielle snuggled into the woolen blanket that he had so thoughtfully draped around her shoulders earlier. It might be the middle of summer, but in Wyoming the nights were crisp and cool.
This was Danielle's favorite part of the day. Mollie added wood to the campfire as her father began tuning up. The fire crackled against the early twilight, blending into the fading rays of a glorious sunset. Gone was her terrifying experience at the river; gone was the bitterness and fear of previous days. In its place was the soothing sounds of a man and a well-loved guitar.
Once again, a sense of familiarity struck Danielle as she watched Cody coax magic from that battered old guitar. What was it about him that beguiled her so? He was handsome, yes, but so were a couple of other men who had asked her out since her divorce, and Danielle had no trouble dismissing them from her mind.
She sighed deeply. This was neither the time nor the place for her to go gaga over some masculine hunk of cowboy who was no more willing to take on the responsibilities of a divorcée and her teenage daughter than he would consider forgoing the freedom of the open range for a desk job. Cody Walker was the epitome of the rambling man in the song he was singing. Danielle told herself she was too old to make a fool of herself over the most charming smile this side of paradise.
Her breath caught when Cody's gaze fell upon her and she met his eyes directly. Beyond the mirth glittering in those eyes lay real danger. Bright with masculine appreciation, they offered an invitation to seduction.
How was a woman supposed to handle a look like that? Overcome by a sudden fit of exasperation at Cody for calling to the surface the passions she had worked so hard to repress, Danielle assured herself she was made of sterner stuff. As a mother with responsibilities beyond her own personal needs, she had to be.
“Time to call it a night,” she announced as the final strains of Cody's last song died out.
The news was greeted by a collective groan. If it were left up to the girls, Danielle was sure they would stay up all night listening to Cody sing. She was sorry to be the voice of reason, but tomorrow was certain to be another arduous day.
“No grumbling now. Do as she says,” Cody said, with a gentle smile and a firm tone.
Danielle was grateful for his support. At every turn Scott had deliberately usurped her parental authority with Lynn. Unwilling to be the bad guy in his daughter's eyes, he let his wife be the one to dole out whatever punishment was warranted. To compensate for his shortcomings as a father, he tried to buy Lynn's affection with lavish gifts. He said he enjoyed spoiling her rotten. Even though he'd fought every dime he had to pay in child support, Scott still liked to dangle extravagant carrots before his daughter.
“You just sit here and drink this,” Cody said, handing Danielle a steaming cup of coffee, “while I see to the girls.”
Danielle stifled her protest. It was an awkward fit, this being treated like a princess, but after a moment's reflection, she decided she could grow accustomed to it with very little effort.
In less than ten minutes the camp was quiet and Cody returned to find Danielle staring into the dying embers of the fire. At this point in his life, he didn't want to so much as notice any woman. But, he reasoned with a sigh of resignation, a man would have to be blind not to notice the way the glow of the campfire caught in Danielle's bright auburn hair like handfuls of copper pennies.
The time they shared on the trail made the woman no less an enigma. Stubborn, fiery, passionate. Soft, gentle, nurturing. Cody could use any of those words to describe Danielle at any given time. Absently he decided that those luminous eyes were simply too large for her face. At five foot five inches, she was too short for him. As a rule, he liked tall, leggy women on the unpretentious side. With hair the color of a fireball, Danielle Herte was anything but unpretentious. And though she was pretty, she was not the most beautiful woman he'd ever met.
He added another log to the fire. Like his own smoldering thoughts, the embers glowed hotly when stirred. What was he doing fantasizing about running his hands through that shimmering mass of curls? Asking for another display of that matching red-hot temper, he guessed.
A light touch upon his sleeve burned like a brand. Cody stiffened against the desire to give in to his own need for human comfort.
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