The Cowboy Code

by Christine Wenger

  Maggie had made chili and a salad, both of which went down well with the group. She beamed at the praise and Cookie even tried to pry the recipe out of her, but, laughing, she wouldn’t budge.

  Joe liked the fact that Maggie was getting the opportunity to cook. He remembered that she’d told him how much she enjoyed cooking, but never had a chance to do it.

  And he loved to see her laugh. The worry lines disappeared from between her brows, and her whole face glowed. She was laughing more often, too.

  After dinner, he assigned more duties. Cleanup and dishes to Brandon and Rick. Sleeping bag distribution to Matt and Alex. Cot distribution to two others. Then everyone would take care of their horses.

  The whole camp would be busy, so Maggie could take a dip in the river.

  He was afraid that she’d be too cold. “Are you sure that you want to do this?”

  “Of course! I can’t let you guys have all the fun.”

  “Okay then. I’ll walk you there,” he told her, leading the way through the trees.

  When they reached the river, she sat down on a fallen tree, took off her boots and socks and waded gingerly into the water. “It’s just as cold as I thought it’d be.”

  “Remember, this is Wyoming. I think that the snow just melted up here,” he chuckled.

  “Turn your back, please.”

  “Of course.” The sun was setting, and he wanted to be closer to her. He sat on the fallen tree with his back toward the water, heard the rustle of clothes as she undressed and tried not to picture her naked.

  He heard her gasp, and assumed that she’d gone deeper into the water.

  “Yikes, it’s cold,” she said. “But it’s really beautiful. Here I am, at sunset, wading into a spring-fed river with horses grazing in the distance… Life doesn’t get any better than this.”

  “Oh?” He snickered. “What about the Met, Times Square, the lights of Broadway, Rockefeller Center?”

  “Smog, concrete, noise, traffic, wall-to-wall people,” she added.

  He was surprised that she countered him.

  “The New York Public Library, the museums, the restaurants, the—” He paused. “Hey, wait. Why am I praising New York City to you? I’ve been there all of…wait for it…twice.”

  “Really? What brought you to New York, Joe?”

  “Madison Square Garden. I contracted with the Professional Bull Riders to supply some bulls for their event in January. That was a treat, driving my eighteen-wheeler full of my best bulls to the Garden and unloading right in front of the place.”

  “I didn’t know they have a bull riding event at MSG.”

  He nodded. “Full house. You New Yorkers must love your bull riding.”

  “Next time you come to New York, I’ll have to take you out on the town,” she said.

  “Next time I’ll let you.”

  He heard more splashing, then footsteps and clothes rustling behind him once again—she must have gotten out of the water.

  “You can look now.”

  She had changed into a pair of jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. Her feet were back into the boots, but her teeth had started to chatter from the cold. She shivered.

  “It’s too late in the evening for this,” Joe said. “I should have known. You’re freezing.” He pulled her to him in an attempt to warm her with his body heat. His hands traveled up and down her back, trying to rub some more warmth into her.

  She looked up at him with her big emerald eyes and a smile that made her eyes twinkle, and that was his undoing. He gave her some time to tell him to stop, but she didn’t.

  His lips touched hers gingerly, and then harder. When he heard her softly say his name, he pulled her even tighter to him.

  All the while, he was moving his hands over her body—to help warm her, he told himself. He shouldn’t have let her swim this late in the freezing water, in the coolness of the setting sun.

  Maggie’s hands moved over his arms, his chest and his back. When her palms settled on the sides of his face, he thought he’d melt. She stared at him, smiling, happy.

  It was Maggie who pulled him to her this time, her soft lips that touched his, gently, tentatively.

  Exquisite torture, that’s what this was, Joe thought, letting Maggie explore to her heart’s content. It was all he could do to stop himself from finding a soft spot along the riverbank and making love to her.

  But all too soon, he remembered all the reasons he couldn’t.

  He moved Maggie away from him, and dropped his arms. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. Forgive me.”

  “T-there’s nothing to forgive,” she said, her eyes opening in alarm.

  “Yes, there is. I’ve overstepped my bounds—again.” He ran a hand through his hair. “We should go—its getting dark.”

  He told himself that it was just kissing. But he knew that he wanted more from her—a lot more. He wanted her heart, body and soul.

  But that didn’t make any sense. He had experience with women who wanted more than he could offer, wanted more than hard work and long hours on a ranch.

  He had absolutely nothing to offer a woman like Maggie.

  But why was he even thinking about a long-term relationship? Why couldn’t he enjoy her company now and forget about tomorrow?

  Deep in his soul, he knew the answer to that. He wasn’t a one-night stand kind of guy. When he gave his heart, he gave it forever.

  But he couldn’t give his heart to Maggie.

  They didn’t have forever. They only had what was left of Cowboy Quest, and her future with Danny was in his hands.

  Chapter Twelve

  Maggie shivered in the cold evening air. She desperately needed to wrap herself in several flannel shirts, sweats, maybe even a sleeping bag to make up for the loss of Joe’s heat.

  Yet again, he’d had an attack of guilt over a kiss. And she felt guilty about possibly hurting Danny.

  She retrieved her old clothes from the fallen tree, and they walked back to the camp in silence. Maggie’s face flamed when she remembered how she’d reacted to his kisses. She’d been lost in the moment, adrift on a sea of desire. She’d felt so right in Joe’s arms.

  She understood his point about him being in charge of the program and that she was a participant, but who cared? To her dismay, she hadn’t cared—not when his warm lips and hot mouth moved over hers. Not when she was gathered into his comforting embrace.

  And she liked him—a lot. The big bear of a man was gentle, was good with kids and animals—what more could a woman want?

  “Is there anything else you need, Maggie?” he asked.

  “No. I’m fine. Thanks.”

  “No problem.” He nodded and turned to leave.

  “Uh, Joe?” He turned back. “Don’t worry about the other thing, okay? It didn’t mean anything.” As soon as the latter slipped out of her mouth, she could have bit her tongue. “I mean—”

  “I know what you mean.” He walked toward his tent and shot over his shoulder, “I agree. It didn’t mean anything.”

  His voice was steady, low, his shoulders set and rigid.

  She didn’t have a chance to explain that she’d never meant to hurt him—not for anything in the world.

  They gathered up more stray cattle for the next two days. Joe kept his distance from Maggie, and when their paths did cross, he was overly polite. A businesslike atmosphere had replaced their easy camaraderie, and she felt alone and depressed. She wanted things back the way they were before.

  Maggie had just finished riding night watch with Ronnie, Danny and Brandon. The four of them got along perfectly. For whatever reason, Danny seemed to be in good spirits without being sullen and distant, as did Brandon, and she wondered what that was about.

  After an evening of singing show tunes (Maggie), country songs (Ronnie) and rap music (Danny and Brandon) to the cattle to calm them, they’d hit the sack when another team had taken over the watch.

  On one occasion, in the distance, Maggie heard Brandon singin
g an old, romantic Elvis song. The kid was a fabulous singer!

  When they arrived back at camp, she cornered him by the chuck wagon. “Brandon, I heard you singing, and you were wonderful. You have a very special gift.”

  “Thanks,” he mumbled.

  “Have you ever thought of singing professionally?” Maggie asked.

  “Like at weddings?” he asked.

  “Like on the stage.”

  “Me? Nah.”

  “Yes, you.” Maggie insisted. Brandon didn’t have any confidence in himself. “Do you play any instruments?”

  “Guitar.”

  “Are you any good?”

  “Sorta. Yeah,” he replied.

  “I’d love to hear you play and sing someday.”

  He shrugged. “Okay.”

  If it weren’t so dark out, she’d swear that the toughest delinquent of the group was blushing.

  After taking care of their horses, they all headed for the campfire where Quint was telling a ghost story. The plot sounded suspiciously like The Phantom of the Opera.

  She took the only seat available, next to Joe.

  “Would you like a cup of coffee?” he asked, holding up a blue speckled coffeepot that he’d just taken from the fire. “It’s black, hot and horrible.”

  She shuddered. “Rust remover,” Quint had called the deadly brew.

  “Thanks, I’d love some,” she said, figuring she’d never get to sleep tonight due to the overload of caffeine, but she just wanted to warm up. It was a chilly, damp night. She sank deeper into Joe’s flannel shirt, which she had hardly taken off since he’d given it to her at her first riding lesson.

  As she took the mug of coffee from Joe, her hands brushed his and he looked up into her eyes. It seemed like he was about to say something, but then his eyes shifted to all the people nearby and settled on the campfire.

  She wanted him to tell her that he could feel the pull of desire between them, stirred by just a touch, but he didn’t. Maybe something else was on his mind.

  She took a sip of coffee and looked at Danny. He was in a huddle with Brandon, Jeff and two more kids. All three of them were hanging on Brandon’s every word. Brandon looked over his shoulder at the string of horses, and Maggie wondered yet again if he’d had anything to do with the horses getting loose the first night. She could only hope her nephew wasn’t involved.

  She looked at Joe over the rim of her coffee cup. He seemed to be covertly watching the little clique, too. The other boys in the program were talking amongst themselves.

  “Something’s going on,” she mumbled. “And I don’t like the looks of it.”

  She felt a hand on her arm. Joe whispered, “I told you before, I’ll take care of things. I’m aware that something’s up. And I’m not the only one.”

  “What do you think it’s about?”

  “I think it’s a jail break.” He shook his head and tossed the remnants of his coffee onto the fire with a flick of his wrist. “And I think it’s going to happen tonight.”

  “Where would they go? They don’t know the area.” A sick feeling crept into Maggie’s stomach. “What are you going to do?”

  “Nothing. I’m going to let it play out. Those who are involved are going to have to pay the price,” he said.

  “But I’m afraid one of them will be Danny.” Her stomach was roiling now.

  “I’m afraid you’re right.”

  A million scenarios were going through Maggie’s head. She wanted to warn Danny by letting him know that everyone was aware that they were going to run away.

  “Don’t do it, Maggie,” Joe said, as if he could read her mind. “Let him suffer the consequences of his behavior. Let him learn from his own mistakes.”

  “But I can’t do that.” She was going to be sick. “Aren’t you supposed to help instead of making things worse?”

  “Trust me. Do you think you can do that?”

  “I don’t want him hurt out there, riding in the dark. He’s tired. We just got off watch, and—” She looked into Joe’s onyx eyes, the hard planes of his face. There was a steely resolve about him, yet his gaze reflected tenderness and concern for her fears.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing,” she finally conceded.

  “I do.” He sat back in his chair, and yelled over the talking. “Hey, how about a singalong, everyone? Maggie, will you start us off?”

  It was lights-out, and everyone had adjourned to their respective tents. Maggie reluctantly went to hers, but Joe had a feeling that she wouldn’t be sleeping.

  She knew as well as he did that if the boys were up to something, it looked like it was going to happen tonight. He passed the word among his staff to let things unfold.

  He felt the worst for Maggie. These kids weren’t bad kids—they were just following Brandon who seemed determined to hold on to his bad streak. Joe didn’t want Brandon to fail his program, but even he had to admit that he’d tried his best to get close to the kid, to no avail.

  Brandon just wasn’t ready yet. Even the lure of horses, campfires and camping didn’t cut it for Brandon. He wouldn’t be happy unless he was the leader of the pack.

  Like tonight.

  Well, tonight Joe was going to teach Jeff, Rick and Danny how not to be followers. Then, depending on how everything played out, it’d be Brandon Avery’s turn to learn the responsibilities of a leader.

  “Psst, Maggie. It’s Joe.”

  She’d been tossing and turning for hours. Her pulse pounded in her ears as she went to unzip the flap. “What’s wrong? It’s Danny, isn’t it?”

  He nodded, and she thought her knees would give out. “Come with me, and don’t make a sound.”

  He took her by the hand, and as they passed various tents, a couple of the cowboys stuck their heads out.

  “Everything okay, boss?” Adriano asked, his gaze settling on their clasped hands.

  “Just taking care of that little situation we discussed earlier,” Joe said.

  “If you need help, just give the signal.”

  “Will do.”

  Maggie wondered if the whole camp knew what was going on, everyone except her.

  “Where are we going?” she finally asked, her mouth so dry that she could barely get out the question.

  “To the remuda of horses.” They ducked behind the chuck wagon and from their position, they were able to see four boys untying horses from the line.

  Maggie could make out the tall, thin shape of a cowboy opposite them about fifty yards away— Ronnie. He was watching the action, too.

  All kinds of things were going through her mind, including yelling to the boys and telling them to stop. But she stood there quietly, though it was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do.

  Joe slipped a flashlight out of the pocket of his raincoat, as Maggie made a motion to walk toward the boys.

  “Not yet,” Joe said. “I’ll let you know.”

  The wait was interminable. How much longer? She wanted to scoop Danny up into her arms and hold him tight, never let him out of her sight again.

  Then it dawned on her. She should have been doing that all along. But she’d been too overwhelmed by her own grief and confusion to focus on her nephew.

  She could quit her job and find something else that she would enjoy just as much. But what would that be?

  To even think of quitting the stage was remarkable. She used to think she’d never want to do anything else. But things had changed. It took standing in Wyoming in the wee hours of the morning, with the fear that Danny was going to go riding off in the dark with three other kids on horseback, to really make her think about what she could do differently.

  They watched as the boys led the horses away from the camp. She had a feeling that bridles and saddles were stashed somewhere in the woods.

  “Who’s there besides Danny and Brandon?” she whispered.

  “Jeff and Rick.”

  “I figured as much.” She’d seen them huddled together enough times. Now she knew they�
��d been plotting and planning their escape.

  “Why on earth would Danny want to run away? From what I can tell, he’s having the time of his life. He’d take Thunderbolt home if he could.”

  “I don’t know if he really wants to run, or Jeff and Rick either. We’ll see.” He sighed. “I really thought that we’d made a difference.”

  He cared a lot about his program, about the kids. In spite of her worry about Danny, her heart was breaking for Joe. By the end of the night, his program could be very much in jeopardy.

  Joe took her hand again. They crept along in the shadows until they saw the boys saddled up and astride their horses.

  Maggie waited for Joe to say something. Instead, he held his index finger to his lips.

  Were the boys crazy, trying to ride the horses in the dark? When was Joe going to call this off?

  She felt his hand on the small of her back. He led her to the remuda. The boys were nowhere in sight now, but she could hear the horses moving through the woods.

  The first voice she heard was Danny’s.

  “Brandon, this is a dumb idea. The horses can’t see where they’re going.”

  “Just shut up, Danny boy. I’m pretty sure that horses can see at night.”

  “Maybe we should have stolen a flashlight,” someone said.

  “I don’t know why I’m doing this. It seemed like a good idea back at the bunkhouse, but now I’m not so sure,” Danny said. “And I don’t think that Thunderbolt can see in the dark. I don’t think that any of the horses can. Let’s go back, dude, before we’re caught.”

  “Yeah, let’s go back, Brandon,” said Rick.

  “I don’t want to go back. I thought we weren’t going to listen to that Cowboy Code crap anymore,” Brandon said.

  Silence.

  “I don’t think it’s crap,” Danny finally said. “I kinda like it. And I like Cowboy Quest.”

  “Me, too,” said Jeff.

  “It ain’t bad,” Rick said.

  “Well, I’m going on without you weenies,” Brandon said. “I’m outta here.”

  Brandon turned to leave, and the other three boys turned back toward camp.