The Western Dare (Harlequin Heartwarming) (17 page)

Frustrated by Emily’s stubbornness and the sudden crash of thunder that shook the ground, Camp pushed his face into Maizie’s. “There’s nothing I can do to stop Emily. I won’t, however, sit by the fire while you ladies risk your necks.”

A gleam flashed in the older woman’s eyes. “Then quit flappin’ your gums and saddle up. The closer the riders, the less chance those big brutes’ll bolt.”

By morning, Camp was so cold, weary and saddle-sore that he hardly knew which end was up. It didn’t help that the park floated in three inches of water where the stream had overflowed its banks.

Sometime during the long night, the heavy rain had put out Emily’s fire. Between the thunder and the lightning, they’d had their hands too full keeping the teams clustered to even worry about the absence of coffee.

Emily tried to assist Harv, who was attempting to start a fire.

“Forget it,” snapped Maizie. “We’ll grab coffee in town.”

Mark and Jared complained about having to forgo the catfish breakfast. By the time they hitched the horses, drove to town and picked up Gina, not even their slickers warded off the rain that washed down in torrents.

At noon the wagons were mired up to their hubcaps, and there wasn’t a tree in sight to give travelers or horses any relief from the steady downpour. For lunch, Camp ate a cold hot dog, plain. He figured the bun would be soggy before it hit his mouth.

Tempers were so short that Maizie called a halt to the day’s travel before they reached the Arkansas River. “We won’t be able to cross anyway,” she said in explanation.

“How do you expect us to start a campfire in this weather?” shouted Philly.

“I’ll show you,” Emily told him. “We all have tarps. Let’s string a couple of them between two wagons.”

Camp stood in awe of her spunk. Despite his tiredness, he did as she asked.

Everyone admired Emily’s resourcefulness in using dry wood from her wagon to build a fire in the largest of her cast-iron pots. She soon had coffee perked and passed around. Then she proceeded to mix a huge batch of scrapple, which she cooked and served to everyone.

“I’m impressed, gal,” Maizie said between bites of the leftover cornmeal mush seasoned with ham and onions. “I told Robert to hand out beef jerky. But it’s nicer having something hot to warm the innards.”

Others heaped praise on the cook. Yet no one except Camp offered to help her wash up after they’d cleaned their plates.

“Don’t you have sense enough to go in out of the rain?” Emily yanked the stack of plates out of his hand and dumped them into a pan of hot water.

He smoothed a hand down her rain-wet cheek. “Not if it’s the only opportunity I have to spend time alone with you.”

Emily’s stomach did a jig. A pocket of heat warmed her from the inside out as he bent down to join their cool lips. She didn’t even notice that water dripped down their noses from the bills of their caps.

Neither was aware that the dishpan began to fill with rainwater. They strove to bond tighter as the kiss wore on. Megan’s petulant voice finally drove them apart.

“Mother,” she whined from the wagon, “Are you planning to stay out in the rain all night?”

Breathing hard, Emily clutched her slicker with one hand. She didn’t know how or when it’d fallen open. Her eyes searched Camp’s and found them dark with emotion.

“It’s pouring,” she whispered. “What are we doing?”

“All that steam isn’t coming from the dishpan, Emily. I’m not ready to go inside and leave you. Tell Megan to buzz off.”

“I would, but if we stay out in this we’ll catch pneumonia.”

He could see that she felt as reluctant as he did to call a halt. It was enough for Camp. At least, for now. “Your mother’ll be in once we finish the dishes,” he called to Megan. “Unless you’re volunteering to come out here and take my place.”

As Camp expected, his challenge was met with silence. He managed to steal several more kisses from Emily before an awful deluge forced them to say good-night.

For the second night in a row, he didn’t sleep. But this time the taste and scent of Emily Benton filled his head. He was getting in deep. Maybe too deep for someone who’d landed on the bad side of Emily’s firstborn pride and joy.

CHAPTER NINE

“It’s been said that women had little to do at river crossings except knit. The men did all the dirty work.”

—Something Sherry read in a non-fiction
book she bought in town.

F
OR
FIVE
DAYS
the column wound slowly through waterlogged farmlands. Wagons got mired up to their hubcaps in muddy sinkholes. Regardless of age or gender, everyone scrambled through the muck to help unstick wagons. The single most important goal was to keep moving.

Brittany and Megan moaned, groaned and griped so vocally, they alienated people who might have been inclined to agree that the trip was no longer fun.

Camp, especially, felt like throttling the less-than-dynamic duo. It was as if in addition to complaining from dawn to dark, the two had appointed themselves watchdogs over him and Emily. The girls found ways to foil his carefully engineered plans to spend time alone with Emily, sabotaging his schemes almost before he set them in motion.

Emily merely chuckled. “I’m enjoying this immensely, Camp. Normally Megan does her best to ignore the fact that I exist.”

Camp rolled an empty water barrel to the lip of Gina’s wagon. “I’m glad you find their Hardy Boys surveillance techniques amusing.”

“Nancy Drew,” she said, breaching his wrath to help lift the barrel down.

“What?”

“A girl sleuth—not boys.”

“Before this trip, I never realized it was so easy to step on toes in the battle of the sexes. Let go of that barrel. Even one end is too heavy for you.” He bent and rolled it toward Terrill Boone’s water wagon. Maizie’s middle son hadn’t had an easy time delivering fresh water to their stopover on the outskirts of Fort Larned. He’d also brought a vet this visit. Bad weather had taken its toll on the horses. The vet retired several of the big animals due to strained ligaments. Camp figured if he hauled many more of these oak barrels full of water, he’d have to be retired, too.

“Who keeps the battle of the sexes alive?” Emily asked. “Not women.”

“An interesting observation. One I’d gladly explore more fully if we ever managed any time alone. We need to talk, Emily.”

“About what? The fact that you’re going to kill yourself with these barrels? Why don’t you fix some sort of skid?” she suggested matter-of-factly. “I saw an old snow sled at an antique store in town this morning when some of us went to do laundry. Wouldn’t its runners slip through the mud as well?”

“Might.” Camp turned the idea over in his head. What he found even more appealing was the fact that he’d require Emily’s help locating the store. “After I fill this barrel, maybe you could show me where you saw the sled.”

“Sure.” Her smile broke slowly. “I swear I can hear the wheels turn in your head, Campbell.”

“Shh. Not so loud. The wind around here has ears.”

“Ah...you plan to ditch our spies?”

“You’ve got it,” he said. “Let’s meet at the bridge that crosses the Pawnee fork.”

She squinted at the sky, face hopeful. “The rain has finally let up. I wish we could visit the wagon ruts that are supposed to be near here.”

“Your wish is my command. Sherry rented a car to take Gina, Doris and Vi to the fort. No reason we can’t rent one, too. Terrill’s laying over tonight. I’ll fill barrels later. Let me wash off some of this sludge in case we want to eat in town.”

“I look so scroungy no self-respecting café would let me in the door.”

“No, you don’t.” He eased the barrel onto the filling rack, his gaze cruising slowly over her face and down her body. “You look great.”

“Stop, you’re making me self-conscious.”

Smiling, he placed gloved hands on her shoulders. Intent on kissing her, he jumped a foot when Megan Benton leaped out from behind the truck.

“Mom,” Megan cried, virtually yanking Emily right out from under Camp’s nose. “I changed my mind about seeing the fort. Can we go now?”

Emily swept the hair from her eyes—while her feet remained firmly rooted. “This morning you stomped around and refused to talk about visiting the fort with Sherry. Now I have other plans, Megan.”

“What plans?” The girl threw a mean look at Camp, who tried valiantly, behind Emily’s back, to signal her silence. Without success, apparently.

“This morning,” Emily said, “I discovered a sled in an antique store that I think will allow the men to haul water more easily. I was just about to show it to Camp.”

“Well, no problemo, then.” Megan snapped her fingers. “Brittany and I will go with you. We’ll leave him at the store and go on to the fort. All right, Brit?”

At the sound of her name, the second girl appeared from behind the truck.

Camp busily filled the barrel. He felt Emily’s beseeching eyes on his back, but he wasn’t up to dealing with another of Megan’s manipulative displays. “You ladies go on. Take in the sights. Robert and I can manhandle the rest of these.”

Sorrow washed over Emily. Spending the afternoon with Camp had sounded exciting. Megan’s sudden interest in the fort didn’t fool Emily. Although—she sighed—the sole reason for making this trip had been to build a better rapport with her kids. “I’ll go run a comb through my hair and grab my billfold,” she said resignedly. “If you change your mind about the sled...” She turned to Camp. “The store is on Eighth.”

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. A longing glance in her direction revealed her looking back wistfully. Their eyes clung for several seconds. Breaking the contact, he encountered the smug coconspirators. It was all Camp could do not to vent his anger on them. Except that fighting with Megan wasn’t the way to win Emily over. Camp forced himself to say generously, “Have a good time, kids.”

“Absolutely!” Megan’s tone hadn’t dipped so much as an octave.

* * *

T
HEIR
SECOND
MORNING
at Fort Larned brought clear blue skies and the return of a bloodred sun, giving the weary travelers a new lease on life. Dodge City was their next stop. Maizie promised a break that would extend over the Fourth of July weekend.

All day they trudged through fog curling damply off the saturated ground. Camp spent his time plotting to finagle time alone with Emily in Dodge. The very name, Dodge City, carried a certain romantic mystique for Old West aficionados. Camp thought surely Dodge—the so-called Cowboy Capital—would offer enough diversions to capture the interest of two impressionable girls. To say nothing of a huge fireworks display attached to the Fourth of July celebration.

If all of that failed, he could spirit Emily off to the old fort. The girls had complained at length about their boring visit to Fort Larned. Megan announced that if you’d seen one fort, you’d seen them all.

Camp was beginning to feel desperate.

The column of wagons was met on the outskirts of town by the mayor and hordes of curiosity seekers. For the first time Maizie did circle the wagons. She passed the word to unhitch and hobble the horses in the center, saying the mayor planned to present her with the key to Dodge City.

“This is perfect,” Camp whispered to Emily. “After the hoopla, we’ll slip away. No one will notice we’re missing.”
Please,
his eyes begged.

“You’re sure?” Emily didn’t sound convinced.

Camp didn’t dream his own sister would scuttle his plans.

“Ladies,” Sherry called, sidestepping city dignitaries as she rounded up Emily, Gina and the elementary-school teachers. “What do you say to renting a car again? There’s a metal sculpture at the local college campus—
The Plainswoman.
From there we can visit the Kansas Teachers’ Hall of Fame and then go on to the old fort.”

Emily’s despairing eyes sought Camp.

With a sinking feeling, he realized it’d be impossible to object to Sherry’s agenda. Pioneer women
were
the focus of his study, after all. But he proved to be quick-witted. “Hey, sis, do you mind if I tag along?” He hoped he sounded casual.

Brittany barged in and jerked a thumb toward Sherry. “She invited Megan and me to go first. Unless you sit on someone’s lap there won’t be room.”

Sherry Campbell stuck a finger in her ear and shook it as if something was wrong with her hearing. “Excuse me, Brittany. Five minutes ago you said in no uncertain terms that you and Megan wouldn’t be caught dead traipsing around with a group of ‘brainbuckets.’”

“We, uh, we talked about it, and agreed it’d be good research for school.” She kept her eyes on Sherry, refusing to meet Camp’s hard stare.

“I have an idea,” he said, crossing his arms. “I’ll rent a van. That way we can accommodate everyone. We’ll get one with a lift for Gina’s wheelchair.”

Gina beamed. “Great idea. We had problems at Fort Larned. I told the boys I wasn’t going today, and they’ve been moping around ever since.”

Camp was careful to cover his glee at outsmarting girls who thought they couldn’t be outsmarted. “Then it’s settled. I’ll meet you in front of the Santa Fe Railroad depot in half an hour.” Whistling, he strode off before Brittany and Megan found a way to scuttle his plans to spend the day with Emily.

They all fitted nicely in the twelve-passenger minibus. Camp knew the girls were bent out of shape about the fact that he’d maneuvered things so Emily sat up front beside him. The others were so busy loading Gina’s cameras that no one noticed Megan’s and Brittany’s pouts. Camp did, but he was through playing into their hands.

“Hey, rule,” Mark bellowed as later Camp drove into the parking lot at the Teachers’ Hall of Fame. “There’s a gunfighters’ wax museum next door. Can me and Jared go there while you visit the college and the fort? Look, we’re right across from Boot Hill Museum. Okay if we bum around town and meet you for the fireworks?”

Since his plea was directed at Emily, Camp continued to search for a parking place. When he’d found a spot, Emily still hadn’t answered her son. Both boys sat on the edge of their seats, waiting. Camp suspected she was worried about allowing kids that young to run loose in the crowded streets.

“Maybe Brittany and Megan would prefer to check out the gunfighters, too, and maybe poke around those old board-front stores at the museum village,” Camp said lightly. “The mayor said there’ll be gunfight reenactments and other entertainment all day.” He worked to keep from sounding as if he had an ulterior motive.

Unwittingly Sherry aided his cause this time.

“You want them to ogle Miss Kitty and her cancan dancers? How educational can that be? Honestly, Nolan, it’s just another amusement park.”

Camp spread his hands. “You’re right. They’ll get more out of a visit to the fort than watching actors sensationalize legends that may or may not be true.”

“To say nothing of missing a trip to the old wagon swales,” Doris added.

“So what?” Mark whined. “Do me and Jared have to traipse out to dumb old ruts ’cause Brittany and Megan hafta act grown up?”

“If only this wasn’t a holiday weekend,” muttered Emily. “There’re so many people in town....”

“If I didn’t have this injured leg,” Gina said flatly, “I’d go with the boys. I’d rather ride in a real stagecoach and learn to do the cancan,” she said, surprising everyone. “The mayor’s wife told me Miss Kitty’s girls give free dance lessons.”

Megan and Brittany exchanged pensive looks. “Free lessons?” Brittany ventured weakly. “What do you think, Megan?”

Camp sensed the girls wavering. Acting deliberately uninterested, he thrust open the driver’s door. “Stay here and argue if you like. I’m going to see what’s so great about Kansas teachers.”

If nothing else, that tipped the scales for the girls. Immediately they clamored to go with Jared and Mark. “We’re doing this so you won’t worry, Mom,” Megan told Emily.

Oh, sure,
Camp thought. But he didn’t let his reaction show.

“Yeah, Mrs. B.,” Brittany chimed in. “It was a tough decision. Say, why don’t you come with us? Then tomorrow we’ll all go to the fort—like we did at Fort Larned.”

“Brittany!” Megan shook her head.

Camp held his breath as he helped Vi climb down. He willed Emily to refuse the girls’ suggestion.

“Uh, thanks for asking, Brittany. But you two hated Fort Larned. And there are other forts along the trail. Go on, have a good time today. But I want everyone to meet inside Boot Hill Village at five. Do...do any of you need money?”

Camp knew better than to offer any this time. Heart soaring, he happily kept a low profile.

With the youngsters gone, the adults paired up to wander through the teaching museum. Sherry pushed Gina’s wheelchair. Vi and Doris fell into step. That left Camp and Emily bringing up the rear. Any guilt he suffered for wishing the kids out of the way was lost in the joy of simply being in Emily’s company. Even though they spoke little, they shared an occasional touch or a quick smile. By the time the group finished the tour, Camp and Emily had fallen into an easy camaraderie.

“I’m hungry,” Gina announced after they’d left the sculpture and headed for the fort. “Hey, look there! A salad bar with a wheelchair ramp.”

Sherry craned her neck to see. “Sounds good.”

Vi clapped her hands. “It’s next door to the steak house a friend suggested.”

Emily screwed up her face. “I’m not very hungry. There’s a frozen-yogurt place across the street with tables outside. Maybe I’ll just enjoy the sun.”

“That’d suit me.” Camp rubbed his flat stomach. “Someone set a time to meet back here.”

Emily jerked her gaze away from Camp’s midsection.

Sherry checked her watch. “Steak will take longest to fix and eat. Will an hour and a half give everyone time enough? We passed an interesting clothes store down the block. Gina and I’ll check it out after we eat. Do you want to go, too, Emily?”

Camp resigned himself to losing her. He hadn’t met a woman yet who’d pass up an opportunity to shop. She surprised him.

“There’s nothing I need, and I don’t want to be tempted. Maybe I’ll talk Camp into visiting the Carnegie Center for the Arts.”

“Fine with me,” Camp put in. “Although I find it hard to believe Carnegie funded a center for the arts in a lawless cow town.”

“The lawless era ended twenty years before Carnegie issued the grant,” Doris chided.