“Cody?” she choked out in her deep, throaty voice, looking as if she couldn’t believe it, either.
The loathing, shock and fear she was doing little to hide had a galvanizing impact on him.
“Callie Sheridan.” Cody finally recovered enough to spit out the words. There was no welcome in his low voice. “I should have known.” She always had been full of unpleasant surprises.
“Well, I didn’t!” The color came back into her cheeks with a vengeance, and Callie started to slam the door in his face. Cody caught it in midslam and held it firmly open. “I wanted to be set up with a prospective husband!” she cried, upset.
“Not,” Cody said as he let go of the door and shouldered his way into the room, “a husband you’d already dumped!”
Callie tossed the sexily cut layers of her shoulder-length sunflower blond hair and squared off with him, looking prettier and more enraged than he had ever seen her. “Let’s get something straight here, cowboy. I did not dump you.”
“What do you call running away on our wedding night, then?” Cody demanded as he let his gaze drift over her sensual curves in a manner meant to incense her.
Callie might be something of a tomboy at heart—as was indicated by the dark blue blazer, plain white T-shirt, snug-fitting jeans and red cowgirl boots she wore—but there was nothing the least bit unfeminine about her. She was slender in all the right places, curved just so in all the others. Looking at her made his mouth water and his heart race. He remembered all too well what it had been like to kiss her and hold her in his arms, as well as the crushing guilt that had followed. Seven years his junior, Callie was too young for him and always had been. It was just too bad he hadn’t known that when he was twenty-four and she was seventeen. Instead, he’d let the fact she was somehow older than her years fool him into thinking they could make their relationship work. What a damn fool he had been!
For a long moment, Callie looked as if she wanted to confess something to him. Then she shook her head. “I call my leaving you coming to my senses,” she retorted. Looking more agitated than ever, she roamed the small, wood-paneled room and came to a halt beside the high-backed leather reading chair and matching footstool.
“Or bringing me to mine,” Cody muttered, stepping even closer and dwarfing her by a good ten inches. “That was one expensive expedition for a honeymoon that never happened.”
Cody noted he’d struck gold again with his insult.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Callie planted her hands on her slender hips and tilted her head back to better see into his face. Her green eyes sparkled indignantly. “You didn’t spend any money on me.”
“Just the entire trust fund my parents had left me upon their death,” Cody corrected. Which had amounted to a cool twenty-five thousand dollars.
Callie’s thick-lashed eyes widened. “What are you talking about?” she demanded warily.
Finding the floral-and-spice scent of her perfume a bit too distracting, Cody swung away from her. Shoving his hands in the pockets of his denim jacket, he focused on a Remington painting of a cowboy and his cutting horse, hard at work herding cattle across a dusty plain. “Never mind. I am not getting into all that again,” he replied. The fiasco had already turned his heart to stone.
Balling his hands into fists, Cody paced back and forth. Before anything worse happened, they needed to get to the bottom of this to discover if they had any more surprises waiting for them. Cody was betting they did, unfortunately. “How did Uncle Max find you?” he demanded irritably.
Callie regarded Cody with a surly impatience of her own. She did not look of a mind to cooperate with him in his quest for answers.
“What does your Uncle Max have to do with anything?” When he didn’t answer right away, she jammed an interrogating finger at his chest. “And what are you doing here anyway?”
Cody caught her wrist before she could jab that finger at him again and held it tight, wishing all the while he was not so aware of the warmth and softness of her skin, or the sweet innocence of her kisses. “You might as well know. I didn’t come to see you of my own accord.”
She arched a brow. Outside in the corridor voices rose and fell, and footsteps neared and receded. “I’m supposed to believe that?” she challenged, looking as if there weren’t a chance in the West she would. “When I knew you, you were such an independent hellion no one got you to do anything you didn’t want to do.”
“Well, this time it’s different,” Cody said gruffly. “Max sent me here. The circumstances being what they were — are, I couldn’t refuse.”
“What are you talking about?” Wrenching her wrist from his staying grip, Callie stepped back a pace. “Max sent you here, to see me?”
“Yes.” With effort, Cody quelled the urge to grab her again and, this time, pull her close.
“Why?” Callie demanded suspiciously.
“Because he was a hopeless romantic and a fool that didn’t know any better, that’s why!” Cody retorted, completely exasperated with the situation he found himself in and his own unexpectedly emotional reaction to it. First he had to deal with his grief at losing Max. And now this on top of it? Uncle Max had really laid one on him this time.
Feeling he was going to explode if he didn’t do something physical to abate the powerful emotions erupting within him, Cody wheeled away from Callie. It was either grab her and kiss that disbelieving smirk off her face or—What was he thinking?
More irritated with himself than ever, Cody yanked off his hat, threw it against the wall, picked it up and threw it again. Unhappily, the violence did little to curb the storm of emotions roiling around inside him. It did, however, bend the brim of his hat at an untoward angle.
“Well, that’ll fix that,” Callie said dryly as Cody picked up his hat, bent it back and swung around to face her.
Realizing she had recovered from the shock of seeing each other again, much more swiftly than he had, Cody glared at her.
She mimicked his look facetiously.
Much more, Cody thought, and he really would kiss her.
But for now...
Steadfastly ignoring her reaction to what he already knew had been a childish display of temper, he watched her breeze past him toward the built-in bookcases filled with western novels, classic literature and how-to ranch books. For a moment, she stared down at the portable TV and VCR that had been wheeled into the room and set in a corner. Whirling back to him, she asked with provoking foolishness, “So, if we’re all through with the hat bashing, how did Max know I was here?”
Cody continued working on the brim of his hat. Giving up, he slapped it on his head and sat on the arm of the chair. He was curious to see her reaction to this. “Apparently, one of the agents at the company recognized your name and alerted Max to the fact you had filled out an application and were looking for a husband.”
Callie looked as if she wanted to find an escape hatch and fall through it. “Then you knew he had ties to the WRW videomatchmaking service?” She bit the words out, dragging a distracting hand through the soft, silky layers of her hair.
“No,” Cody replied shortly, exasperated by that turn of events, too. “Finding out he owned it was news to me, too. Apparently, Max has been up to a lot my siblings and I knew nothing about.”
But she had no pity for him, then or now, Cody noticed unhappily. “How sad for you,” Callie remarked.
That said, she marched past him toward the door. Hand on the doorknob, she yanked it open. “Now. If you’ll excuse me. I think you should get out of here, pronto, Cody. Max’s plan to reconcile us has failed,” she continued loftily. “And seeing as how I’m still expecting my prospective husband to appear at any moment, I—”
Effectively cutting her off in midsentence, Cody reached over and slammed the door shut with the flat of his hand. This was nobody’s business but their own. “You don’t get it, do you?” Cody towered over her. “There is no other man. There’s only a will with some mighty peculiar instructio
ns that Max left upon his death a few days ago. I’m your prospective husband, Callie.”
A heartrending silence fell between them. Had Cody not already known what a little con artist Callie was at heart, he would’ve been convinced she hadn’t known anything about Max’s demise. The will, either.
Finally Callie put a hand to her throat. Her green eyes gleaming moistly, she gasped, “Max is—”
“Yes,” Cody answered harshly.
Callie drew in another breath. Her eyes glimmered even more. “So you’re not—”
“No.”
“And the rest — ”
“Is true, too,” Cody admitted, fighting the debilitating sadness that threatened to overtake him any second.
Callie regarded him like the straight man in a comedy act. Not tearing her eyes from his, she blew out a long, exasperated breath and appeared not to believe a single word he said. “I don’t know what kind of game you are playing with me, Cody, but this is not funny.”
His own gaze grew colder. “Notice I’m not laughing, either,” he replied hoarsely.
His blunt statement, coupled with the simmering intensity in his gaze, captured her attention. They stared at each other in a silence that seemed to go on forever and made Cody all the more aware of her.
“I’m sorry, about Max,” Callie said finally.
Cody nodded.
“But that doesn’t... When was the last time you had a shave and a haircut?” Callie demanded, as if seeing him for the first time.
Cody touched his beard self-consciously, wondering if he really looked as bad as she, and Max, had seemed to think. Not that it mattered to him one darn bit, anyway. “Don’t know and don’t care,” he spit out laconically. What in blue blazes did that have to do with anything?
Callie turned up her pert little nose at him and made a provoking face. “No wonder your uncle had to advertise for a wife for you, then.”
Cody lifted a dissenting brow. His pulse racing, he leaned treacherously close. “Let’s get something straight, Callie. I didn’t ask for this. Max arranged this little tête-à-tête of ours all on his own. I had nothing to do with it!”
“Ha! Like I’m supposed to believe that,” Callie countered as a knock sounded on the other side of the door. Her temper still flaring, she shouldered past him and yanked it open once again.
Cody was not surprised to see Max’s attorney, Cisco Kidd, standing on the other side. He gave them both a long look, as if he were wondering how they were doing, then handed over a duffel bag to Callie. “This is for you. It’s got a change of clothes or two, and a toothbrush, your basic toiletries.” Cisco gave Cody a videotape marked Last Will and Testament of Max McKendrick, Part Two. “You’ll want to listen to this right away,” Cisco said. Not waiting for a reply, Cisco tipped his hat at them and quietly took his leave.
“I wondered why there was a VCR and television in here,” Callie murmured. Looking more ready for the next surprising turn of events than he was, she sank down on the edge of the leather chair.
Cody shut the door, closeting them in together once again. “Knowing Max, it’s only the first of many surprises,” Cody grumbled recalcitrantly, as he started the tape and then pulling the footstool as far away from Callie as possible, sat down beside her to view it.
As they stared at the TV with trepidation, Uncle Max appeared on the screen. “Hello, Callie and Cody. Guess you had your reunion, bittersweet as it may have been. And you’re probably anxious for me to quit jawin’ and cut to the chase, so here’s the deal. Cody, I am leaving you the entire Silver Spur cattle ranching operation—all quarter million acres and ten thousand head of cattle. Except for one bull’s-eye parcel of land, twenty head of cattle and the original homestead—all of which are to go to Callie.”
“I don’t believe this,” Cody muttered.
“Yeah, weli, if your ego can stand the news, you are not currently on my dance card, either, Cody McKendrick,” Callie muttered beneath her breath.
“I suppose you’re both wondering why I am willing the land to Callie,” Max said.
Cody glared at Callie. “No doubt another scheme.”
“I checked with the agency, which, by the way, I own and operate, and the only reason Callie signed up with the video matchmaking service was to find a hubby to go in on a little homestead with her. I don’t imagine this news will sit with you too well, Cody, but you bear in mind that she’s been working hard just like you have. And since you’ve been outta touch some with polite society, don’t forget your manners.” Max added sternly.
“Amen to that,” Callie agreed wholeheartedly.
A muscle working in his jaw, Cody glared at her. Again, Callie glared right back. Only she looked a little more exasperated.
“’Course, I know how stubborn you are, Cody,” Uncle Max continued from the screen as, outside in the corridor, voices rose and fell again. Not wanting to miss a word of his late uncle’s message, Cody leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
“So I put a few conditions on this inheritance of yours. Should you refuse to marry Callie, the situation will reverse, and you will inherit the bull’s-eye parcel of land and she will inherit the entire two hundred and fifty thousand acre cattle operation. Now, I imagine that wouldn’t sit well with you, her being the primary landowner, so I’d advise you to forget the heartache of the past—”
“Not very damn likely,” Cody muttered.
“And get on with the courtship and wedding. ‘Cause either way, Callie is going to inherit some land of mine, and one way or another, the two of you are going to be stuck together for all eternity.
“Unless of course,” Uncle Max continued, “Callie refuses to marry you, Cody. In that case, she gets nothing from my estate. I don’t think that will happen, either. Callie’s a smart girl. She knows if she just sticks with my plan, she’ll be set for life. And what are forty-eight hours and a wedding, after all?”
“Plenty,” Callie muttered beneath her breath as she glared at Cody.
“My feelings exactly,” Cody retorted as the videotape continued.
“I’ll see you at the wedding forty-eight hours from now. Meantime, although the two of you are free to roam wherever you want or need to go, I expect the two of you to stay together under the same roof twenty-four hours a day, with no more than three thirty-minute breaks apart. You break the rules and the deal is off. I don’t imagine you’ll like that much, either.”
“An understatement if I ever heard one,” Cody muttered.
“Ditto for me,” Callie snapped right back.
“But I want you two young’uns to listen up and listen good anyway. In my rodeo days, when I took to riding buckin’ horses and bulls, I was given a bit of priceless advice by an old hand. He told me, ‘You got eight seconds to ride, and a lifetime to think about it.’” Max smiled his encouragement. “So make the most of your eight seconds, kids. You already blew it once. You don’t want to do it again.” Max gave them a two-fingered salute. “Happy trails,” he said huskily. “And know I’ll always be thinking of you.”
There was a lump in Cody’s throat the size of a walnut and an ache in his heart just as bad as Uncle Max’s picture faded to a endless vista of blue Montana sky, then to black.
Fighting another onslaught of tears, Cody switched off the VCR. It took every bit of fortitude he had, but finally he regained control of his emotions, and with that control came a very bad mood.
Anxious to get out of there before that self-imposed control, already stretched hopelessly thin, snapped, he let his glance flicker to the duffel bag on the floor next to Callie. Figuring he’d already done enough for Callie in years past, he made no move to pick it up for her. “Get your gear,” he said gruffly, already striding to the door. “We’re getting out of here.”
“I’M SORRY ABOUT MAX, really I am. I’ll miss him, too. But don’t think this will of his means you can boss me around,” Callie warned Cody.
Still working to put her grief over Max’s death aside, she climbe
d unassisted into the passenger side of the battered Silver Spur Ranch pickup truck. Prior to her meeting with Cody, she’d had no idea Max was gone, and in fact was still reeling inwardly from the unexpected news of his death, but she’d be damned if she would look to Cody McKendrick for comfort. Not that he was likely to give her any, after the way she had run out on him in Acapulco seven years ago, leaving only a note full of lies behind. She’d meant to protect him in doing what she had. Obviously, he didn’t see it that way. She wondered if he ever would.
“You can save the sad-eyed look for someone who cares.” Cody leaned in the cab, planted a hand on either side of her and caged her against the seat. “You may have fooled my uncle into thinking you were a helpless waif in need of protection. When it came to women and kids, Max always was too softhearted for his own good. But you damn well won’t fool me.”
Not about to be outdone in the physical intimidation department, Callie grabbed Cody by the shirtfront and tugged him even nearer, though they were already nose to nose. “To borrow a phrase from your Uncle Max, Cody, you listen up and listen good. Your Uncle Max was one of the kindest, most understanding men I have ever met. Just because you don’t have a heart gives you no right to badmouth him, Cody.”
Cody grabbed her wrist and pried her fingers from his shirtfront. “Perhaps we better get something straight,” he retorted, holding her right hand aloft. “I don’t want or need you in my life. Nor do I want to listen to any hypocritical speeches a heartless woman like you might be moved to give. Got it?” Not waiting for her reply, he shoved her hand away and stepped back against the open truck door.
Callie shot one long leg out to bar his way. “There’s something you should understand, Cody.” She kept the sole of her cowboy boot flat against the door. “I am no longer the shrinking violet you ran away with. When I feel the urge to speak my mind, I do. Got that, cowboy?” These days she fought her own battles. And even stood up to an injustice or two....
The Cowboy's Bride Page 2
