the wagon.
Danielle sighed in relief. It was Mollie.
Oblivious to the fact that she had almost scared Danielle out of her wits, she chirped, “I’ve got something for you.”
In her hand, she held a candy bar. A king-size, doublefudge, peanut-packed fistful of satisfying calories.
Danielle salivated at the sight of it. As outlined in the packet they had received beforehand, candy was clearly considered contraband. Everything was supposed to be as authentic as possible, and since the early pioneers had to do without artificial flavorings and preservatives, the Prairie Scouts were expected to, as well.
Danielle looked over both shoulders before accepting the candy bar. “I’ll split it with you,” she whispered to her child conspirator.
“That’s all right,” Mollie said with a mischievous grin. “I’ve got a secret stash. If you want, I can keep you supplied through the whole trip.”
“You know you could make a fortune selling this on the black market,” Danielle mumbled through a mouthful of heavenly goo. “But you’d better not let Captain Bligh see you scalping any of this or he’ll have you keelhauled under a Conestoga.”
Mollie’s blue eyes darkened in confusion.
“Captain Bligh?”
“You know, the Hunchback of the Wagon Train...Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Raw Hide...”
Clearly the strained literary allusions were lost upon the child.
“Our illustrious wagon master.”
Mollie was seized by a fit of giggles. “Daddy’s sure got you buffaloed, hasn’t he?”
Danielle choked on melted chocolate.
“D-daddy?” she sputtered.
It was impossible. This darling little imp could not possibly be the devil’s spawn.
“Ah, there’s nothing to worry about. He’s just like melt in your mouth candies—hard on the outside but soft and sweet on the inside.”
Both Mollie’s ancestry and her analogy seemed dubious, but looking at the girl more closely, Danielle recognized his eyes staring back at her.
It was unnerving. Undeniably Cody Walker had passed this living legacy on to his daughter. Danielle could only assume that the girl had received her delightful disposition from her mother. Which made her wonder—where, by the way, was that long-suffering saint? If the poor woman had any sense at all she would take her husband’s flirtations more seriously. Rubbing the back of her hand over her mouth, Danielle told herself that had she known earlier that Cody was married, she would never have allowed him the liberties he had taken with her lips. Apparently the creep shared more with her ex-husband than stunning good looks.
Swallowing the last bite of her candy bar, Danielle mumbled, “Your poor mother.”
“Huh?” Mollie’s brow knitted in confusion.
Danielle hastened to cover the remark. “I was wondering which one of the sponsors is your mother?”
“My mother’s dead.”
Regretting her previous lack of charity, Danielle’s eyes misted over at the thought of this sweet child growing up without a mother’s love. This revelation put Cody Walker in an entirely different light. Earlier in the day she would have placed a substantial bet that their wagon master was a confirmed bachelor whose sense of responsibility reached no further than his libido. As a single parent herself, Danielle realized how difficult it was to raise a child all alone. She promised to try to be cordial to Cody in the future, if only for Mollie’s sake.
“Want some help with supper?” the girl asked, her twinkling blue eyes registering an eagerness to please.
Danielle smiled. How often had she nagged at Lynn to show such acts of simple consideration only to be met with a stony silence that implied those were unfair expectations from a bygone age? With some luck, maybe a little of Mollie’s country manners would rub off on her own citified daughter.
“I’d 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
