by Diana Palmer
“He damned near blew up the cow who provided him with the raw materials,” Cane accused.
“Ah, childhood.” Mallory sighed, smiling pleasantly. “They got such a whipping from Dad.” He smiled. “Happy memories.”
“He put us up to it,” Cane said, pointing his fork at Mallory and glowering. “He told Tank to tell me methane wasn’t dangerous. He knew I’d argue. I always argued.”
“You still do.” Tank chuckled.
“Only when I know I’m right.”
“Only all the time,” Tank mused.
Cane made a face. “Well, anyway, it was an instructive experiment. And it got me out of cleaning the stalls in the barn for quite some time.”
“For a whole week,” Mallory agreed.
“My grandfather said you guys were experimenting with a way to use methane gas to power the electricity in the barn.”
“We are,” Mallory replied. “It was an expensive setup, but it’s saving us a fortune in power bills. Imagine. Modern technology is impressive.”
“Why can’t they do that other places?” Bodie wondered.
“Well, there are some places where landfills use it for power,” Cane said. “But the setup, as Mallory said, is quite expensive. Only large cities can utilize the concept.”
“Wouldn’t it be nice if garbage could be used to solve our energy woes?” she wondered aloud.
“Nice, indeed.”
“What a subject for breakfast conversation,” Morie exclaimed, joining them at the table with an empty cup.
Mallory kissed her tenderly and poured coffee into it for her. “We were discussing energy concepts.”
“So I heard.” She glanced up. “How are you doing, Bodie?”
Bodie smiled. “A little blue. But I’ll mend.”
“Of course you will. It just takes time.”
Cane pursed his sensual lips. “I have to drive over to Jackson Hole to talk to a man about a bull. Want to come along?” he asked Bodie.
She was surprised. But it was a pleasant surprise, and it showed. “Well, I…sure.”
He chuckled. “We won’t be long. I want to look at one of his yearlings. The sire’s been written up in major ranching journals. I want to see for myself.”
“I like cattle,” Bodie said.
“So do we.” Mallory chuckled, too.
“We’ll go after breakfast,” Cane told Bodie.
She smiled and nodded. It would be good to have something to keep her mind off her grandfather. And it was a thrill to have Cane seeking out her company. That in itself was unusual.
* * *
CANE DROVE ONE OF THE ranch pickups, his one hand managing the steering wheel effortlessly.
“The rancher’s name is Bill Sanders,” he told her. “He’s a third generation rancher. His father almost lost the ranch to a development corporation a few years ago. They wanted to build a hotel complex on his land. He went to court and fought them for two years. In the end, he won. They went to another part of the state, where people were less resistant to change.”
“Jackson Hole is pretty developed, isn’t it?” she wondered. “Lots of hotels and stuff.”
“Yes. It’s commercialized these days. The Teton mountain range is so famous that people come from all over the world just to look at it. Plus, it’s unspoiled up here in this part of the state. Fresh air and water are nothing to sneeze at.”
“Yes. My grandfather said that I’d live to see people go to war over water. I thought that was funny when I was young. Now, it doesn’t seem so far-fetched at all.”
He glanced at her, smiling. She looked very pretty in a green turtleneck sweater and jeans. It was warm in the truck, so her old leather jacket was spread over her legs. “You look nice, Bodie. You always do.”
She smiled back. “Thanks.”
He turned his attention back to the road. “I thought we might have lunch on the way. I know this little place that serves some of the best barbecue in Wyoming.”
“I love barbecue,” she noted.
“Yes, I know. So do I. The hotter, the better.”
“I still have taste buds. They can make it milder, can’t they?” she asked.
“As mild as you like, honey,” he said, the endearment coming so naturally that he didn’t even notice.
Bodie did. Cane didn’t use endearments, not to anyone. It was a thrill to hear him use them with her. Perhaps he just felt sorry for her or guilty about his behavior before Rafe Mays died. Whatever the reason, it made her heart lift.
“With French fries,” she added.
He grinned. “Can’t eat barbecue without fries. They make their own. No frozen ones out of bags.”
“Wow.”
“And the owner’s mother bakes cakes for the restaurant. Some of the best ones I’ve ever tasted.”
“Now you’re making me hungry,” she pointed out.
He chuckled. “Good. You could use a little meat on those bones.”
“I am not thin.”
“Yes, you are, a bit. No wonder, considering what you’ve been through lately.” His face hardened. “I wish you’d told me all of it, Bodie. I went off half cocked and said things I’ll never forgive myself for. If I’d known how bad things were at your place, I’d never have spoken to you so harshly.”
She swallowed. “It was pride,” she confessed. “I didn’t want to admit that I couldn’t take care of my own finances.”
“Nobody could function with that sort of tragedy looming.” He glanced at her. “One of the cowboys said you even pawned your grandmother’s jewelry to pay for Rafe’s medicine.”
That smarted. She ground her teeth together. “I didn’t have a choice,” she said after a minute. “Jewelry, even heirlooms, well, are just things. People are more important. Besides, the pawn shop guy promised he wouldn’t sell them. I told him I’d be able to redeem them early next year.”
He didn’t reply. But there was a secret smile on his lips that he didn’t let her see.
* * *
THE RESTAURANT WAS A truck stop, full of beefy truck drivers. The parking lot was full of semis, lined up like ducks in a row.
“You never said it was a truck stop,” Bodie remarked.
He chuckled as he held the door open for her. “Nobody knows where the best food is better than a trucker. Long hauls like they make, you live for good food.”
Several men looked up when Bodie walked in with Cane. She felt uncomfortable. She only saw one woman, sitting with a very tall, older man in a back booth.
Cane frowned. Her reaction disturbed him. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said gently.
She bit her lip. One of the truckers was giving her a look that made her feel undressed. He punched his companion and jerked his head toward Bodie. The other man looked at her for a long minute and then smiled, and not in a nice way.
Bodie moved a little closer to Cane.
He stopped dead, stared at the trucker and narrowed his eyes. The trucker suddenly noticed his food and stopped looking at Bodie.
“Let’s go,” Cane said curtly. He caught her hand and led her out of the restaurant. “What the hell was that all about?” he asked curtly. He stopped at the truck and looked down into her eyes. “I’ve never seen men react that way to you before.”
“Me, neither,” she said uneasily. “I’m not wearing anything revealing, am I?” she wondered, insecurity in her tone as she studied her own clothing. “Gosh, I felt like I was on offer or something.”
He drew in a long breath. He was remembering Will Jones’s computer. The man was a techie. He could do anything online. But Tank had seen the image on the computer screen and he said that Will’s friend Larry had just been kissing Bodie. That was all. Still, it would have been traumatic for an innocent, who was doing something against her will to try to save her grandfather from being evicted.
“You think I’m cheap, don’t you?” Bodie asked in an anguished tone. “That was how those men looked at me, like I was a streetwalker....”
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nbsp; He pulled her into his arms, wrapped her up tight and rocked her against his powerful body. “I don’t know what was going on in there, but no sane man would ever liken you to a scarlet woman,” he whispered in her ear. “Least of all, me. I know better than any other man on earth how innocent you are.”
Her heart tripped and ran away with her. She felt breathless, excited, as she’d never been in her life.
His hand smoothed her dark, soft hair. “You’ve had one too many upsets already. We’ll find another place to eat. One where families go, not truckers. Okay?”
She managed a smile. “Okay…”
“Hey,” a deep voice called to them.
They turned. A tall, burly man with a woman beside him came up to them. Bodie noticed that Cane’s posture changed, just slightly, as he moved into a balanced stance. She recalled that he had a belt in martial arts and that Tank said he taught it when he was in the service. Did he perceive a threat?
The other man came up to them and hesitated when he saw Bodie’s drawn, pale face. “The owner of this place is a friend of mine. Don’t know what caused those two men to make you feel uncomfortable, but the owner tossed them out. You come back and have a nice meal. Don’t let two idiots put you off some of the best food in Wyoming.”
The woman smiled. “I could see how uncomfortable you were,” she told Bodie. “My husband and I do these long hauls together. I drive while he sleeps and vice versa.” She looked up at the big man lovingly. “We’ve been married ten years. Doesn’t seem that long.”
Her husband chuckled. “Not to me, either, darling.” He looked at Bodie. “Come on back inside. You can sit with us. If anybody gives you a hard time, I’ll teach them some manners.” He turned his attention to Cane and chuckled again. “Saw you go into that fighting stance. I wouldn’t tackle you,” he added, unaware of Cane’s irritation that another man offered to help Bodie because Cane was disabled. “You look pretty dangerous.”
That was when Cane recalled that he was wearing the prosthesis and the other man didn’t realize he was disabled. He relaxed visibly. “Only when something threatens my best girl,” he said gently, and smiled down at a visibly flustered Bodie.
“I’m the same way. Come on. This barbecue isn’t something you want to miss!”
He led the way back in with his wife. Cane and Bodie sat with them, aware of apologetic glances from the other men present, and ordered plates of barbecue. By the time they finished, they were on a first-name basis with their rescuers and even some of the truckers sitting nearby.
* * *
“WELL, THAT WAS A surprise,” Bodie mused when they were back on the road to Jackson Hole.
“Wasn’t it?” He smiled. “People can be nice. I’ll be honest, I didn’t know what to expect when that human mountain came barreling out toward us. I thought it was going to mean a fight.”
“Me, too. But I wasn’t afraid. You can handle yourself.”
“Yeah. Me and my one arm.”
“Stop that,” she muttered, glaring at him. “You’re missing a hand. That doesn’t make you any less a man. When the chips are down, I’d bet on you against anybody else in a fight.”
He looked surprised. “You would?”
“Of course.”
He shifted a little behind the wheel. His chin lifted. She didn’t know it, but he’d felt very defensive when he thought the other man was insinuating that he couldn’t protect Bodie. Now, he felt better. She had no doubts about his ability to take care of her. It made him feel two feet taller.
“I’m sorry for what happened to you overseas,” she said gently. “I know you don’t like to talk about it, but you did a very brave thing. I don’t know anyone else who would have been willing to make a sacrifice like that to save lives. Well, maybe your brothers,” she amended. “But the point is it’s like a firefighter rushing into a building to save a child.” She glanced at his hard face and away again. “I think you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.”
He actually flushed. He couldn’t even answer her.
“There, I’ve stuck my toes in my mouth again, haven’t I?” she asked aloud, grimacing. “I can’t seem to find the right words…!”
“I think you found just the right words.” He put on the brakes at a four-way stop and turned to look at her. “I have trouble expressing myself, too. I’m defensive about the way I am. When that trucker said he’d handle it if some other man bothered you, it hurt my pride. I thought he was saying I wasn’t man enough to do it.” He laughed hollowly. “Then I realized he didn’t know I was missing part of my arm. This thing looks pretty real.” He nodded toward his left arm, where the prosthesis made it look very normal.
“You take offense sometimes when people aren’t trying to hurt you,” she said hesitantly.
“Like with that fancy woman in the hotel?” he asked, his face going hard. He looked both ways and put on the gas.
Bodie didn’t say anything.
“What?” he prodded.
“I didn’t think you were that sort of man,” she replied tautly.
“What sort?”
“The kind of man who picked up women,” she said quietly. “Okay, so I’m living in the dark ages. I know it goes on. But it seems reckless. You don’t know anything about people like that. She might have just wanted money from you, but she might have given you a drug to knock you out, or even had a boyfriend waiting nearby to beat you up and rob you.”
“Boy, do you have trust issues,” he pointed out.
“I don’t pick up men in bars,” she retorted.
“Yes, you do.” He glanced at her. “You’ve been picking me up in bars for years.”
“You’re not listening,” she replied, exasperated. “Listen, women who play around with men can have all sorts of diseases, even fatal ones. How would you know? Do you ask for a health certificate before you…” She couldn’t even say the words. She turned her attention out the window. “I guess I don’t belong in any modern world, anywhere. I think people should get married first.”
He cleared his throat. “Well, you have to remember that a lot of people these days don’t have those old-fashioned attitudes.”
“I noticed.”
“And whether you approve or not, people will do what they please.”
“I’m not a prude,” she said. She moved restlessly. “I just have a more traditional outlook on life.”
“Shut down the theaters. Close the bars. Pour out all the alcohol. Live in a house with a picket fence, wear an apron, have a dozen kids.”
She flushed. “Don’t make fun of me, please.”
He chuckled. “It’s hard not to, honey. You really are a little dinosaur. Where did you get those strange attitudes from?”
She turned toward him. “From my father, who was a Methodist minister,” she said, her eyes frankly hostile, more so when he looked surprised. “He raised me to believe that certain things were wrong even if the whole world said they were right. He lived his faith. He wasn’t a hypocrite, mouthing off about values and taking fact-finding trips to Las Vegas.”
He frowned. He looked back toward the road. “You never talk about your father.”
“Hurts too much,” she said heavily. “I was riding with him. There was ice and snow on the roads, and we were going over a mountain pass. The road was closed, but one of his congregation members had just come home from the hospital and was having a crisis of faith. He felt the trip was necessary.” She swallowed. The memory was hard. “There was a deer. It was just suddenly there, in the road. I grabbed the wheel…” She bit her lower lip so hard that it bled. “We ran off the road and hit a tree. He died instantly.” She closed her eyes. “I killed my father.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
AS SOON AS HE COULD, Cane pulled over to the side of the road, into a deserted parking lot, and abruptly pulled Bodie into his arms. He held her, rocked her, kissed her dark hair while she cried.
“You didn’t kill him,” he said at her ear. “It was an accident.”
“I jerked the wheel…!”
“Bodie,” he said softly, kissing her eyes free of tears, “if you’re a person of faith, then you believe in acts of God, don’t you?”
“Well, yes.”
“Honey, when your time’s up, it’s up. Doesn’t matter where you are, what you’re doing.” He smoothed back her dark hair and brushed his mouth over hers. “It was his time. Simple as that. You were an instrument, maybe. That doesn’t make you a murderess.”
“I loved him so much,” she whispered. “Mama did, too. She grieved for so long. She never blamed me. But I always wondered if the cancer didn’t come from a broken heart. It’s not rational, but it’s how I thought. I lost my father, and my mother, and now my grandfather. My whole family, Cane.”
“Not all of it. You still have us.”
She smiled wetly. “Thanks.”
He pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her. “Wipe your eyes. People will think I made you cry.”
She made a face. “You do. All the time.”
He glowered at her. “Only when I don’t know what I’m doing.”
She drew in a calming breath.
“And I’m sorry. Really sorry.”
She managed a smile for him. “Me, too.”
He tilted her face up and searched her eyes for so long that she went beet-red in her cheeks.
“I like making you nervous,” he said in a deep, slow voice.
“Not nice.”
“I’m never nice,” he pointed out. His gaze fell to her soft, sensitive mouth. “Not ever…” Even as he spoke his head bent, and his mouth crushed down hard over hers. “You still taste of barbecue sauce,” he whispered.
“I…do?”
He chuckled softly. “That wasn’t a complaint.” He sat up and looked in the rearview mirror. “We’d better get back on the road.”
“Martians are tracking us?” she wondered with a grin.
“I don’t think deputy sheriffs are Martians,” he said, as he pulled back onto the highway. “But I don’t want to find out, either.”
“Good idea,” she replied.
He grinned at her. “All the same, if his patrol car starts to levitate, I’m going to break many speed limits getting us out of here!”