100% Pure Cowboy (14 page)
As if reading the doubts playing in Danielle's brain, Mollie hastened to assure her. “Really. I'll do it myself. I'll go and find him right now. I promise.”
Danielle breathed a sigh of relief. She would just as soon avoid any scene of domestic strife between two such hardheaded individuals. It would be akin to stepping between a couple of angry bulls.
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A little while later a bus arrived at South Pass to transport the girls to Lander. There they were to watch both a Fourth of July parade and a real live rodeo. Cody promised that they could even participate in one special event if they wanted to. True to her promise, Mollie had sought out her father. They sat together on the bus, and by their animated conversation, Danielle assumed they were discussing Mollie's plea to enter the barrel race. Cody kept shaking his head no, but before long Mollie was throwing her arms around him and smothering him with kisses.
Danielle smiled to herself. Mollie knew how to play her father better than he played that battered old guitar of his. Relieved that she wouldn't have to intervene in a private family matter after all, Danielle stretched out in her seat to take a little nap.
She didn't wake up until they were in the midst of a charming, little town teeming with folks who had traveled across the county to partake in the Pioneer Days festivities. A banner stretched across Main Street proclaimed this to be the celebration's fiftieth year. Danielle was impressed both by the quality of the parade and the genuineness of the townsfolk. For a little town, Lander certainly put on a fine show. The community was bursting with pride on this fine summer afternoon.
Cody didn't share in Danielle's enthusiasm. Grumbling about the size of the crowd, he ducked into the local hardware store and proceeded to miss most of the parade. When Danielle questioned him about it, he said simply that he was a solitary man, uncomfortable with the hustle and bustle of town life. Unable to imagine him maneuvering the treacherous byways of Denver, Danielle was faced once again with the reality that their paths would soon go in very different directions.
Unlike her father, Mollie was thrilled with all the comings and goings of the celebration. By the time they loaded back up on the bus and were heading toward the rodeo grounds, a full quarter of their numbers had entered themselves in the greased pig competition. It was a harmless enough event, Cody assured Danielle, one that was sure to provide a couple of picture-perfect moments a mother certainly wouldn't want to miss.
Taking her by the hand, Cody led Danielle to the back row of bleachers. When she protested, he assured her that this vantage point was sure to provide them with the best possible view.
“Some of the best rodeos in America are right here in small town arenas like this.” Pointing to the hard-packed earth, he explained, “That's the ground floor where world champions get their start. It's been said that all you gotta do to win is to get up one more time than you fall.”
Her gentle smile encouraged Cody to take a risk. The time had come at last for him to reveal his ruse. Despite his fleet-footed departure at the parade and the help of a hat jammed low on his head, he knew he'd been extremely lucky that nobody had recognized him. The last thing he wanted was for Danielle to discover his identity by accident. He'd just have to start at the beginning, work his way up to the present, and rely on Danielle's compassionate nature.
Just as Cody cleared his throat, a crackling noise filtered through the speaker system and faceless announcer asked them all to stand and pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States. With a hand over every heart and pride in their voices, this unique Western experience was officially under way.
As they took their seats, Cody again tried to broach the subject of his identity. “Sweetheart, there's something I really need to talk to you about.”
Her aquamarine eyes were as open and guileless a calm day at sea. “Yes?”
“I've been trying to tell you about it for quite some time, but every time I do it seems somethingâ”
“Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we're going to start off the festivities with the greased pig competition.” The announcer's voice was grainy over the inadequate speaker system, and Danielle had to strain to hear him.
At the announcement half a dozen brawny cowboys carrying a greased piglet in each arm strode to the center of the arena where they dropped their loads unceremoniously onto the ground.
“The idea is to be the first contestant to capture one of these slippery, little critters and to carry him across the finish line way down there at the other end of the arena. Many of tonight's contestants are from the Prairie Scout Wagon Train, which as you probably well know, is traveling a portion of the Oregon Trail this summer.”
Danielle jumped out of her seat and pointed at the girls who entered the arena en masse. “There they are!”
Cody gave up. It was hopeless trying to get this mother's undivided attention when her daughter was center stage. He would just have to clear up the misunderstanding between them as soon as the event was over.
Danielle wondered if she was dreaming. Six months ago she couldn't have even imagined her daughter fighting for the privilege of clutching a squealing, greased pig to her chest. Today there was a gleam in Lynn's eye that her mother could only assume had been put there by her new beau.
Grateful to whomever or whatever caused her daughter to abandon the “too cool” attitude she had adopted back in the city, she was delighted to see Lynn and Mollie putting teamwork into action. While the other contestants were getting down and dirty, fighting each other for the prize, Mollie attempted to “herd” a little black pig toward her friend. Danielle watched in disbelief as Lynn threw herself upon the creature to rise triumphant like a phoenix from the ashes. Struggling toward the finish line, she passed another young girl who in her haste tripped in the soft dirt, accidentally liberating her piglet.
As Lynn broke through the yellow ribbon, her mother was on her feet screaming. Danielle couldn't remember ever being as happy. It was an addictive, wonderful feeling.
Enveloped in the fading rays of the sun, she envisioned the future with a sexy, wonderful man and his utterly adorable daughter. Though unable to say exactly how things would ultimately work out, against the backdrop of a spectacular Wyoming sunset and the wild cheering of the crowd, Danielle knew in her heart that love could somehow find a way for an unemployed divorcee and an ex-rodeo hand to support a family of four.
Without regard to who was watching, she kissed Cody full on the mouth before breathlessly taking her seat. “Now. what was it you wanted to talk about?” she asked.
But suddenly lost in a time gone by, Cody's attention was focused on the barrels being rolled to the center of the arena. When Mollie's name was announced, it took a moment for it to register in his brain. When it at last sunk in, he jumped to his feet and bellowed, “What in the hell do you think you're doing?”
Danielle put a restraining hand on his elbow and entreated him to take his seat. “Mollie promised not to ride if it were even a tiny bit windy, and there isn't even the whiff of a breeze in the air.”
Cody wheeled upon her in flash of rage. “You mean, you knew about this? And you didn't say anything to me about it?”
Just nodding her head was the act of a brave woman. “Why you conniving, littleâ”
“You don't understand. I onlyâ”
But Cody wasn't listening. Every muscle in his body strained toward the spectacle before him as the gate swung open.
Mollie was determination personified as her nut-brown mare sped out of the chute. Her blond ponytail streaming behind her, she charged the first barrel as if going into battle. When she neatly cleared the target, Danielle was aware of Cody expelling the breath from his lungs.
Mollie rounded the second barrel a little too widely, and the crowd groaned. This was an event in which every second counted. It was imperative that the circle be kept as tight as possible if one hoped to be in the money. To make up for lost time, Mollie slapped Sugar Foot on the rump as she turned him toward the third and final barrel.
Danielle's heart stopped beating. Hadn't Mollie told her that Rachael had been thrown into the third barrel? Although unintentional, it was doubtful that Cody would ever forgive her for her part in the complicity against him. That was something Danielle would have to live with. But if anything were to happen to Mollie she would never forgive herself. Ever.
Spurred on by the crowd's support, Mollie cut the final barrel so closely that it wobbled for a moment like a bowling pin. A gasp went up around them, and Cody squeezed Danielle's hand so tightly that it hurt.
The barrel neither toppled nor did Mollie's horse falter as Mollie spurred Sugar Foot onward and brought her on home to the thunderous approval of the crowd. Though the announcer hesitated to declare it an unbeatable time, it seemed the very first rider out had set a record. The admiration was clear in his voice. Unless another contestant turned in a miraculous performance, Mollie's time appeared unbeatable.
If it was true that Mollie was the winner, Danielle knew herself to be the loser.
The pain of betrayal made Cody's voice hoarse. “You knew,” he accused her. “And you didn't tell me.”
The future that had but a moment ago glowed like some newly discovered sun exploded in a million sizzling white embers.
“Mollie promised me she would tell you herself.”
Danielle was ashamed of the pleading note in her voice. She recognized it as the voice she had utilized for so much of her marriage, the voice of a woman who knew she wasn't being heard. It was an unfair comparison. The agony Cody had endured in those twenty seconds cost him more dearly than his daughter could ever have imagined. Had she but truly understood that, Danielle was sure Mollie would never have made her father relive his wife's death in such a public and deliberate act of betrayal.
The announcer's voice was an irritating buzz inside Danielle's head.
“I understand that the young lady who just turned in that impressive performance in the barrel racing is with her famous father today. I'm sure you all are familiar with the two-time world champion bareback rider who turned in his saddle for a guitar.”
Danielle couldn't understand why the blood had so suddenly drained from Cody's face. For that matter, why was every eye in the stadium glued upon them?
“It's a real pleasure for me to be able to introduce to you Cody Cameron, a real Wyoming-grown hero. Would you mind standing up, Cody, so everyone can see you?”
Cody Cameron? Wasn't that the name of the country-western singer who was all the rage on the radio?
Suddenly it hit Danielle with the force of a sledgehammer driven right into what must have been a particularly thick skull. That was why Cody looked so familiar to her. As he unclenched his teeth and gave the crowd a mechanical wave, Danielle recognized her down-on-his-luck drifter as none other than Cody Cameron, the world-famous singing weasel.
Outrage supplanted disbelief in a red-hot explosion of temper. How dare he stand there and accuse her of being dishonest with him in her dealings with Mollie when he himself hadn't been truthful with her for a single solitary minute!
Danielle obliged the locals with the snapshot opportunity of a lifetime. “I'd hate for such a hotshot country star like you to miss out on a chance to make headlines,” she snapped, slapping the strained smile right off his lying, photogenic face.
Chapter Ten
S
tinging with the shame of that all-too-public slap in the face, Cody watched Danielle march right out of his life. Head held high, her back as straight as a steel rod, she never looked back. Though it was possible that she hadn't heard the announcer suggest an exhibition ride, she would have had to be completely deaf not to have been aware of the thunderous applause that greeted his acceptance of that challenge.
tinging with the shame of that all-too-public slap in the face, Cody watched Danielle march right out of his life. Head held high, her back as straight as a steel rod, she never looked back. Though it was possible that she hadn't heard the announcer suggest an exhibition ride, she would have had to be completely deaf not to have been aware of the thunderous applause that greeted his acceptance of that challenge.
Getting her attention was, of course, why he did it.
Ten minutes later Cody was lowering himself onto an enraged beast named Meathook and questioning his sanity. It had been some time since he'd done any bareback riding, and that had been back when he'd harbored the fresh pain of his wife's loss. Cody knew his agent would have a heart attack if he knew his prize account was risking his neck over something so paltry as a case of injured pride. How often had Arnie told him that a banged-up cowboy was a heck of a lot better to sing- about than to market?
At the moment, however, Arnie's sage advice was of little consequence. There was far more riding on this exhibition than his marketable mug. Things like pride and a one-in-a-thousand shot that he could somehow win Danielle's heart back by engaging in a manly exhibition of brawn and grit.
His logic wasn't entirely unfounded. Rachael had never loved him more than when he'd turned in a record performance. The allure of a rodeo hero had been a strong aphrodisiae, and she couldn't watch him ride without forgiving him any and everything he'd ever done. With a little luck, Danielle would feel the same way.
Cody took a quick scan of the area. He didn't see her anywhere and found himself wondering if either she or his headstrong daughter would shed any tears at his funeral. Shaking off that ominous thought, he wrapped the rigging around his hand and grabbed on to the secret weapon that had once made him a national champion: his anger. Anger at Mollie and Danielle for plotting behind his back. Anger at God for taking Rachael from him. Anger at Rachael herself for disregarding his counsel not to ride under such inclement conditions. Anger at himself for not being man enough to stop her. And for being stupid enough to fall in love again.
Knowing that it was all that was between him and death, Cody held on to his anger with white knuckles.
Running his free hand across the red mark Danielle's open palm had left upon his face, Cody touched the brim of his hat and nodded twice.
The metal gate swung open, and Meathook lunged forward toward freedom. The bone-jarring impact of just under a thousand pounds of wild mustang touching down upon the earth like a cyclone sent pain jolting through every joint in Cody's body. His spine compressed, his left arm seemed torn from the socket, and there was a good possibility that his head would permanently be lodged between his shoulder blades.
The pain helped Cody focus. In an explosion of raw power, Meathook twisted all directions at once, trying to dislodge the unwanted rider from his precarious position. Gripping the mottled gray tornado with his knees, Cody gritted his teeth so as not to bite off his tongue.
A stillness descended upon the audience. From the stands it was obvious that this was far more than some wellorchestrated publicity stunt. They might not understand why, but it was clear that this particular cowboy was pouring the hurts of a lifetime into this beastly battle. Powerless to turn away, they were held in morbid fascination as Cody attempted to ride a monster straight into the bowels of hell.
He didn't hear the whistle indicating that he had made time. The pickup man whose job it was to assist cowboys from their mounts couldn't get close enough to offer him a hand. No one could hold the man to blame. An amusement ride constructed of muscle and rawhide, Meathook had all four feet off the ground more often than not, bucking in tight circles, zigzagging, lunging toward the rising scythe of the white moon.
Still, Cody held his rhythm. Suddenly, as if weary of his fierce dance, the animal veered off on a kamikaze course with the metal railing surrounding the arena. Frantically Cody tried to disengage his grip hand. Pivoting out of the saddle, he leaped clear of the horse a fraction of a second before the animal slammed into the railing. The horse collapsed, and for a moment, it appeared he would have to be put out of his misery. Then with an unnatural lurch, Meathook rose to his feet, shaking his head in a daze.
Cody locked his knees to keep from collapsing as he bowed to the crowd. The audience rose to their feet in a riot of applause to honor their eight-second hero. Unfortunately the only person he really cared about impressing was noticeably absent. Amid the cheers of his adoring fans, Danielle had abandoned him to his lonely glory.
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Tears spilled down Danielle's face as she made her way from the arena. Nothing made sense anymore. Cody was not the man he said he was. By all rights it should have pleased her to watch that no-good liar be trampled into the dirt and carried from the arena on a stretcher. Instead she had died a thousand deaths for every second of Cody's tortured ride.
Danielle blamed no one but herself for her gullibility. She could hardly fault the girls for not recognizing Cody. They were more into MTV than TNN. She didn't have that excuse. While it was true that she had little time for television and the few times she had caught a glimpse of Cody Cameron at the newsstand he'd had long hair and a mustache, Danielle spared herself no quarter. A cloistered nun should have been able to put that face and that voice together. The clues had been there all along.
Daddy has just scads of women falling all over him...
I'm frequently mistaken as a movie star...
When he's on the road and I'm all alone at the ranch with Grandma...
Yeah, a few people have encouraged me to pursue a career in music...
Nor had that tipsy old lady at Gus's Steakhouse been mistaken. She recognized a star when she saw one.
With a deft twist of the kaleidoscope, all the pieces of the mosaic fell into place for Danielle. All except one. Other than making her look like the biggest fool on the face of the planet, what possible reason could Cody have for keeping his identity from her? Danielle couldn't fathom why anyone would want to keep his success a secret. But then again, neither could she understand anyone risking his neck to master almost half a ton of horseflesh without so much as the aid of a saddle. Maybe he just wanted to see if he could make her cry in front of thousands of people.
If so, he had reason to be proud of himself, for despite the fact that Cody was a number-one, class double-A jerk, Danielle had cried a river of tears over him in just eight short seconds. When he had come catapulting out of that chute, her fear had mingled with the smell of horseflesh and manure and blood drying in the dirt. If there had ever been any doubt left in her mind that she was truly in love with this man, it vanished the instant Meathook exploded into the arena.
A woman would have to be a certifiable idiot to fall in love with a man who made an exhibition of breaking both hearts and wild broncos. A man who could lie as smoothly as he could belt out a Top 40 hit. A successful man who needed a mature woman and her needy teenage daughter like he needed to offer trouble a key to his home....
Danielle hastened to put distance between herself and the crackle of the announcer. “It's not every day you get to see a ride like that. No, sirree! Lucky for the other cowboys here, it was just an exhibition ride or Cody Cameron would be walking away with tonight's purse. Ladies and gentlemen, let's give a real Wyoming champion a big round of applause.”
Oh, he was a champion, all right, Danielle muttered through a haze of tears. A blue-ribbon champion jerk. And if erasing the scoundrel from her memory meant wearing a hole right through her heart, that was exactly what Danielle intended to do. She hoped he hadn't seen her blubbering over him like some love-struck ninny. The last thing Cody's oversize ego needed was a dose of her puffy red eyes and panic-stricken expression to let him know just how devastated she was by his deception.
Stumbling toward the bus, Danielle heard the cheers echoing off the surrounding Wind River Mountains, the vendors hawking their wares, and the sound of an ambulance carrying off some luckless soul. The smell of hot dogs lingered in the air as faint but persistent stars tried to make an impression on the darkening sky.
Such was twilight in Wyoming. The most lovely, the most lonely time in the world.
How long she remained wrapped in her cloak of misery, Danielle didn't know, but ultimately the evening chill moved her inside the bus to look for a sweater. It was freezing in her heart when the overhead lights above the metal-tiered stands snapped off and the inky sky was filled with a burst of fireworks.
Magic encompassed in their wide, innocent eyes, children sat entranced in their parents' laps. Husbands and wives joined hands, lovers kissed, and in the glow of a particularly brilliant explosion of purple and gold, Danielle witnessed young Shane stealing his first chaste kiss from her daughter.
The sight sent a pang of emptiness echoing in her heart. Danielle felt completely alone in the world. Imagining Cody surrounded by a bevy of adoring fans, she felt the sting of tears multiplying the effect of fireworks touching the sky like so many fairy wands. With a backward wipe of her hand, she reminded herself that she was too old to believe in fairy tales and happy endings. Those lingering girlhood fantasies had been crushed tonight beneath the heel of a contrary cowboy's boot.
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The last to board the bus for the trip back up the mountain to rejoin the wagon train, Cody's late arrival was heraided by enthusiastic cheers. Their handsome hero had returned a celebrity.
“I knew you looked familiar!”
“You old stinker, why didn't you tell us?”
“Do you think you'll ever do a movie?”
“That was the most awesome ride I've ever seen.” Danielle was the sole defector amid the cacophony of adulation. Cody stopped in the aisle beside her seat and asked in his most humble voice, “Is this seat taken?”
Holding his battered hat in his hand, he looked so utterly forlorn and contrite that Danielle had to turn her head away so as not to risk softening toward him.
“I have nothing to say to you.”
Cody didn't press the issue. He merely limped on by and took a seat in the back of the bus.
He felt like he'd been trampled in a stampede. There wasn't a spot on his body that didn't ache. Even his teeth hurt. And all that pain had been for nothing. He'd risked his damned neck trying to impress this woman by entering himself into a life-and-death display of machismo, and she was as concerned about him as if he'd been stung by a bee.
All right, so Danielle didn't want to talk to him. He could understand that. If she felt half as betrayed by him as he did by her act of duplicity, it would take some time before either one was calm enough for a rational discussion. They both needed time to nurse their individual hurts. But make no mistake about it, Cody assured himself with grim determination, they would talk.
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