appreciate it if you’d get Lynn and the other girls to help you gather up some firewood.”
As Mollie scampered off to do as she was asked, Danielle set about preparing dinner, throwing herself into the task at hand with as much vigor as she could muster. She figured cooking over a campfire wouldn’t be all that different from her gas stove at home—except for controlling the heat, of course.
The girls were so hungry after their meager lunch and exhausting walk that they were willing to eat cooked shoe leather. Danielle’s quickly thrown together pot of pork and beans met with hearty appetites.
She was just cutting into a fragrant pan of apple cobbler when who should come sniffing into camp like a lost, forlorn pup but Cody Walker himself. His dark hair had been combed into damp submission, and he was humbly holding his hat in hand. Catching a drift of, his masculine scent, Danielle felt her heart climb to her throat and lodge there permanently.
“Something sure smells good,” Cody exclaimed, wielding the compelling allure of his boyish smile upon the entire troop with practiced expertise.
Eagerly succumbing to his charms, the girls fell all over themselves to make room around the fire for their handsome wagon master.
Danielle was less receptive to the idea.
“Won’t it hurt your reputation to be seen sharing a meal with such a misbegotten collection of city slickers as ‘Troop Beverly Hills’?” she asked pointedly.
“Actually, I plan on eating all my meals with my daughter. Do you have a problem with that?”
Tinged with masculine roughness and grit, Cody’s voice was as disquieting as his eyes. The way those eyes glittered reminded Danielle of a sleek panther stalking his prey. As their gazes melded, electricity arched between them, crackling in the cool evening air, and Danielle flinched beneath the shower of invisible sparks that engulfed her. She had assumed their arrogant wagon master would simply float from one den mother to another, receiving a complimentary serving of adoration with each meal. That he wanted to share all his meals with his daughter softened her heart a little. She couldn’t so much as picture Scott beside their daughter at anything as unpretentious as a camp-out-
“Mother, you’re embarrassing me!” Lynn whispered through clenched teeth.
Mollie interjected with a mischievous smirk, “Why don’t we make him sing for his supper?”
Grateful for an easy way out of this strange modern day showdown, Danielle conferred a hesitant smile upon their uninvited dinner guest. “That sounds like fair payment to me.”
Glad that she wasn’t on the receiving end of the look of censure Cody shot his daughter, she noticed with more than just a smidgeon of satisfaction that Mollie pointedly ignored his fierce scowl. So she wasn’t the only parent around whose teenager occasionally exhibited selective perception.
Cody was fuming. Mollie knew damned good and well that the last thing he wanted was to chance being recognized. She was, after all, the one who had suggested he use his given name instead of his stage name of Cameron while on this trip. While he was relieved that no one had caught on to his ruse so far, what Mollie had so blithely suggested was too risky to chance. Apparently she no longer thought it mattered now that they were already on the trail. So what if her father was discovered to be a popular country singer now that they were far, far away from the journalists who made it so impossible for them to lead normal lives? Cody knew he shouldn’t mind that Mollie was proud of him and wanted to show him off a little, but he did.
Part of the reason he had agreed to lead this expedition at all was that he was feeling so used up by the cutthroat mentality of the business. His agent was certain that the only thing that mattered in a performer’s life was the bottom line. For all intents and purposes, Cody’s personal life had become a thing of the past. He needed time away from it all. The music industry was a hard business. The necessary self-promotion, the phoniness, the desperate groupies, the endless demands on his time and energy, all presented a constant drain that was threatening to erode those core beliefs that he had once thought to be unshakable.
While this wasn’t exactly the holiday he’d had in mind, it was nice just being treated like everybody else for a change. He had become so used to women in particular fawning all over him in insincere attempts to curry favor that Danielle’s feisty resistance to his charm was in itself refreshing. It had been a long, long time since any woman had warmed his blood like this contrary redhead did. Just the sight of her framed against a golden sunset stirring that fragrant concoction in her caldron sent his pulse racing with pleasure.
Cody had seen the momentary flash of longing in her eyes when he had kissed her, felt it in the way her body had melted against his, making it hard to tell where his skin ended and hers began. He had been almost as shocked by his equally explosive reaction as by her subsequent attempt to push him away. After years of having women throw themselves at him, it both bewitched and bewildered him that she would put a stop to his kisses. Would she have done so had she known he were famous rather than the trail bum she assumed him to be?
Fame had its advantages, but it tended to twist others’ perceptions of him in ways that were far from honest and forthright. When Danielle saw him for who he really was, she would be the one singing another tune. And that would simply reinforce his belief that Rachael’s innate goodness had ruined him for other women who were, by and large, all gold diggers.
Considering the shock of the intensity of his reaction to Danielle, Cody wondered if there was more at stake here than he was willing to admit. When Rachael died, grief had completely devoured him. Over the years it had slowly dissipated into a nagging ache that left him hollow and numb. But despite his intense loneliness, he had no desire to ever marry again. Love simply hurt too damned much when you reached that “till death do you part” clause. Never again would he willingly open himself to such pain.
Apologizing over the rumbling in his stomach, he tried to weasel out of the bargain his daughter had proposed. “I wouldn’t want to hurt anybody’s ears with my caterwauling.”
Afraid that their handsome wagon master was about to get away, the troop tuned up with a burst of pleading.
“Please...” they begged in unison.
The way Cody Walker’s smile lit up each girl from the inside out sent a fist right into Danielle’s gut. How could she possibly teach her daughter to protect herself from such easy charm when her own barriers were proving far from impenetrable?
She herself had only been a couple of years older than Lynn when she had succumbed to Scott’s slick brand of charisma. That experience alone should have made her immune to this cowboy’s crooked smile and his kisses, the mere memory of which sent a quiver of liquid fire right through her. Rubbing the back of her hand over her lips, she chastised herself for feeling so off balance. It was just a kiss for goodness’ sake. One that has you as twisted up inside as a regulation Prairie Scout knot....
At last giving in to the girls’ pleas, Cody gave Danielle a strange, searching look before easing out of camp to return a few minutes later carrying a guitar that looked like it had seen better days. Carefully avoiding eye contact, Danielle doled out generous portions of dinner and pushed a plate into his hands. He lapped up the steaming food like a man offered his last meal. Flattered by his eager consumption, Danielle refilled his plate—twice.
“Thanks, Red, I can’t remember ever eating anything that ever tasted better on the trail.”
The lazy smile that accompanied this proclamation suggested that he was doing his best to coax a smile from her. Danielle merely shrugged at the flattery. Even if his compliment warmed her from the inside out like a ray of sunshine on a cold, blustery day, she wasn’t about to let him know it.
“The least you could do to show your appreciation is to call me by my rightful name,” she snapped.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied evenly.
Danielle bristled. Even “Red”