The Cowboy Code

by Christine Wenger

  He grinned. “More.”

  She was getting lost in his eyes, then guilt set in. She looked around for Danny.

  “I assigned Danny to another staff member,” he said without her even asking. “I decided that you needed extra instruction.”

  Butterflies settled in her stomach. What would Danny think about her spending time—alone—with Joe?

  “Maggie, do you resent having to come here and not being able to rehearse for your new musical?”

  She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “I don’t want to talk about it. I’m here for a riding lesson.”

  “You’re here for much more,” he said softly.

  She needed to get away from Cowboy Quest—to get away from him. She needed to think, but that was impossible right now. She had to do the right thing—no, she wanted to do the right thing—for Danny’s sake.

  She’d thought that maybe the right thing would be to quit performing and teach dance and voice. She’d done that with kids during the past few summers as part of a special theater program, and she’d loved it. But even if she did it full-time, she doubted that it would pay enough to support them both.

  She petted Lady’s nose as she sorted out the many things that were swirling around in her head.

  “Maggie, you’ve got to talk to me—I want to help you, and Danny, but I can’t unless you let me in.”

  “I know you’re only trying to help, not pry, but I’m not comfortable relating my feelings to a person that I’ve only known for two days.”

  “Look—”

  She couldn’t hold it in any longer. “What do you want me to say? That I’m mad because I had to pass up the best role of my career to come here? That I feel guilty about feeling resentful toward Danny even though it’s my fault that he screwed up? And if we are really psychoanalyzing me, I resent my sister Liz for dying, and not being here for Danny.” Her hands shook, and she stuffed them into her pockets. “So the short answer is yes. I do resent having to come here.”

  She kicked a loose stone into the river. “Wow. Just how horrible am I?”

  “Tell me about Liz. Why do you resent her for dying?”

  Tears stung Maggie’s eyes, and she blinked them back, willing them not to fall. “Because I miss her every day of my life. I want to talk to her one last time. I want to tell her how much I love her, and how much she’s always meant to me. I want to tell her that I’m sorry that I let her down, that I’ve messed things up with Danny.”

  Tears fell down her cheeks and onto her blouse. She sniffed and fished in her pockets for some tissues. Joe handed her a folded red bandanna. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to fall apart.” But she had, and it felt like a giant weight had lifted off her chest. She’d thought these things often enough, but it was the first time she’d voiced them aloud. She hadn’t even said this much to her grief counselor, but here on a wooden bench in Mountain Springs, Wyoming, she bared her soul to a cowboy.

  “Cry all you want,” Joe said. “It’s good for you to get all this out in the open.”

  She managed to smile. “Thanks for listening, Joe.”

  “Everything you’ve said is all very understandable, Maggie.” He shrugged. “You’re only human, you know.” He leaned forward, rested his arm on his knees and looked intently at her. “Now that we’re talking, want to tell me why you’re so scared of riding?”

  She took a deep breath. “Okay. Here goes.” She took several deep breaths and let them out. “My girlfriends and I would always save our babysitting money so we could ride at the stable by my house. The stable was about two miles away, and we’d ride our bikes there. This one time, someone else had reserved the horse that I always rode, the one I was used to.”

  She paused and smiled, thinking of her favorite horse. “His name was Sparky, and he was black and very sweet and gentle. Instead, I got a horse named Banner, a palomino, who was a nervous type, which didn’t sit well with me because I wasn’t the most confident rider.” She shook her head. “The trainer who led us through the trails and across the farm fields thought it would be fun to jump a ditch that contained some irrigation equipment.”

  Joe grunted. “I know what’s coming.”

  “Well, everyone soared over it, except me. I pulled on Banner’s reins at the last second, and I went over his head and landed on my back on some kind of pipe.” She closed her eyes. “He didn’t step on me, but he came close. I remember seeing his underbelly. I got the wind knocked out of me. I couldn’t breathe.”

  She was breathing hard now, reliving the incident. “Everyone was too busy laughing to notice that I couldn’t breathe. Everything started to go dark around the edges, and their laughter seemed to get farther and farther away due to my lack of oxygen. I hit the ground and broke my arm. Luckily, as I fell again, it knocked something in place, and I could breathe again.”

  “What a horrible experience.” Joe met her gaze. “Did you get back on?”

  “No. I walked to the barn, got my bicycle and rode home using only my good arm. I never talked to my so-called friends again, and never went near a horse again.” She smiled. “I’m even leery of the ones that pull carriages in New York City.”

  “No wonder you’re scared, Maggie. Damn. Who wouldn’t be? And you came here knowing that you had to ride.”

  “What else could I do? This is about Danny, not me. Keeping him out of placement is the issue, not my fear of horses.” She crossed her fingers, and held them up. “I’m still hoping to overcome my fear.”

  “I’ll help you, Maggie, and I promise I’ll do everything I can to make sure you don’t get hurt. But if anything does happen, I’m a trained paramedic. You just have to trust me and try to stay calm. Can you do that?”

  “It’s me that I don’t trust.”

  “You just need confidence.” He put his hat back on. “Let’s table your lesson until tomorrow. I can always lend a hand at the corral.”

  “No.” She shook her head. She didn’t know what had happened, but somehow this sweet, concerned cowboy had helped her to talk about it. Maybe she’d been misreading him. Maybe he wasn’t just concerned about his program’s success. In his own way, he led her to some kind of breakthrough. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to try my lesson again. Let’s do it now. I don’t want to think about it overnight, and I don’t want to get too far behind the rest.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes,” she said with all the confidence she could muster.

  “Excellent decision. Let’s go.”

  Somehow Joe had known if he suggested that they wait on the lesson, Maggie would opt to try again.

  A warm feeling settled over him. He wished he could lead her away from here. They could ride in the lower pasture where the wildflowers were in bloom. Hearing her open up—finally—made him want to become even closer to her….

  But he couldn’t. And before he did something he’d regret, he’d better stop thinking about Maggie as a woman, and remember that she was just a participant in his program.

  They came to the barn door, and Joe could sense her nervousness, hear her breathing quicken. He took her hand in his, and felt the warmth of her skin. He told himself that he was just trying to encourage her, but it felt so good to touch her.

  “I’m going to have you bridle and saddle Lady a few times just to get you more comfortable being around her. I’ll be right next to you. Ready?”

  She nodded. “Ready.”

  He didn’t let go of her hand. Unfortunately, two of the kids and one of the cowboys were in the barn, and they had to suffer through three pairs of raised eyebrows and three sets of eyes looking at their clasped hands.

  One pair of eyes belonged to Brandon Avery, Danny’s new friend. Maggie’s grip tensed, and he wondered if he should drop her hand.

  But one scathing look from Joe and the three looked away. He dropped her hand to lead Lady out of her stall, and hooked up the lead rope to a cast-iron circle on the wall. He handed Maggie the horse’s bridle and a sugar cube.


  “Just remember what I showed you. She’ll take the bit. She knows what’s happening.”

  Maggie turned to the horse, and fed her the sugar cube. She’d clearly gotten the hang of things during their morning session, because she didn’t need much instruction for the bit, nor for the saddle.

  Joe unhooked the lead rope, and handed her the reins. She took them without flinching, though he could see the tension in the set of her shoulders.

  “Now lead her outside. I’m right here, next to you,” Joe said. It wasn’t a hardship being next to Maggie, catching the scent of her floral shampoo whenever she was near.

  “So far, so good. Right?”

  “You’re doing fine. We’re going to take Lady on a walk along the river, just so the two of you can get better acquainted.”

  “It has turned into a gorgeous day.”

  Joe hadn’t noticed. He’d been busy worrying about the beautiful woman next to him. Shedding his coat, he draped it over a fence post. She handed him Lady’s reins and did the same.

  They walked along the river, Lady neighing softly behind them.

  “If you’ll hold her for me, I think I’m ready to get on now, Joe.”

  “Okay, but let me help you.” He gave her instructions, and Maggie repeated them. After a few hops, she was sitting in the saddle, looking surprised—and proud of herself.

  “There will be no jumping or running. We’ll let Lady walk for a while, then we’ll call it a day.”

  When he looked back at Maggie, she was sitting tall in the saddle and seemed to be enjoying the ride. Every now and then, she’d pet Lady or whisper something to the horse that he couldn’t hear.

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m having a great time.” She chuckled. “I’m back on a horse after—” She put her hand over her mouth so the next word was muffled, then she removed it. “Years.”

  He laughed. It seemed like he was always laughing with Maggie.

  Ideally, he would have liked it if she took the reins, but he felt that Maggie had made a ton of progress, and he admired her grit.

  “Joe, tell me more about the woman you were engaged to. Why didn’t you get married?”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Well, you know a lot about me, but I don’t know anything about you.”

  He shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. Her name was Ellen Rogers. She left me to live in Los Angeles. She said that she didn’t want to live on a ranch or in a small town like Mountain Springs.”

  “I’m sorry. That must have hurt.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about. I’m glad I found out sooner than later. She wanted a different lifestyle, and my ranch couldn’t compare.”

  “There’s a lot of opportunities in big cities. There’s not much around here.”

  “Not if you don’t like ranching or farming,” he said, a little defensive.

  “I know. I grew up on a dairy farm, remember? But I wasn’t home much. From about the age of ten, I was busy taking voice and dancing lessons in Syracuse. Liz got stuck with doing most of my chores, but she loved the farm.”

  “You’d never leave Manhattan for a place like Mountain Springs.” It wasn’t a question; it was a statement. He just wanted to prove his point.

  She shrugged. “I haven’t seen much of Mountain Springs yet, but it sure is beautiful here.” She gestured to the distant mountains and conifer trees. “Just beautiful. It’s not like home at all.”

  Maggie stared into the distance. She was probably thinking that she’d love to take the first plane out of here. A woman like Maggie didn’t belong here any more than she belonged on a dairy farm.

  He’d proved his point. Maggie was just like Ellen Rogers.

  That was another good reason—maybe the best reason—to stay away from her.

  Chapter Six

  Later that evening, as everyone roasted marshmallows over the campfire, Maggie kept up a steady supply of graham crackers and squares of chocolate for s’mores.

  She thought about how much Joe had helped her this afternoon and she was gaining confidence. Maybe this program had already helped her more than she’d thought possible. Maybe soon she’d even be able to make a decision about something that she’d been worrying over for far too long—quitting the stage.

  She stole a glance at Danny. He was still sulking, probably because he’d heard about Joe and her holding hands earlier. It wasn’t private enough here to talk to him, and if she called him away from the others, he wouldn’t like that either.

  She’d just have to wait for the right time.

  Tim, the math instructor-turned-rodeo rider, picked up his guitar and started strumming “Red River Valley” and a couple of the cowboys joined in. She joined in, too, once she knew the words. It felt good to sing again.

  When the song was over, the kids and cowboys clapped and cheered. She flushed with pleasure just as Joe caught her eye.

  Tim started another song, one she didn’t know, as Joe took a seat beside her. “I love listening to you sing. We all can see why you’re a Broadway star.”

  She smiled. It was always nice to hear that, especially when it came from the heart.

  “With talent like yours, you’ll find another show.”

  She was quiet for a while, then shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. I had momentum going, but momentum can be fleeting. But that’s all right. It’ll be worth it if being here helps Danny in the end.”

  It surprised Maggie that she was able to vocalize what she’d been thinking about more and more—did she have anything more to accomplish on the stage? She’d already won a Tony, what more was there?

  She’d always liked performing, after she got over her initial moments of stage fright. Thankfully, that disappeared when the curtain went up. But for some reason, lately the work itself wasn’t as rewarding as before.

  She took a sip of water. “All the time I spend in rehearsals and performing has taken a toll on my relationship with Danny.”

  She often thought that she might like to teach dance and voice. She’d taught at workshops before, and she loved it. She loved how much energy the kids had and how eager they were to learn. But she had to take care of Danny, and teaching was nowhere near as lucrative as performing.

  Joe leaned over and rested his arms on his thighs. “You’ll figure out how to solve your problem with Danny. Things will get better.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise.” Joe met her gaze, and the firelight made his features look chiseled, masculine.

  She sighed. “I just wish I’d been able to put Danny’s needs first when Liz died. But I was so caught up in my own misery… I had friends to confide in, to support me, and Danny had no one. I’ve neglected him miserably. Now I need to make that up.” Tears stung her eyes.

  “Have you ever apologized to Danny for neglecting him? Explaining how lost you were?”

  “Why…no. No, I haven’t.”

  “Do you think you should?”

  “I should, but I don’t know how. I’ve been avoiding any discussion with him about that time.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know if I could handle it if he got mad at me, or if it came out that he really hated me for being so neglectful of his needs.” She took a deep breath. “I know that kids get mad at their parents all the time, and I don’t want to seem clueless about parenting, but this is all new to me. And his getting into trouble is showing me exactly what he thinks of our situation.”

  “You should give Danny more credit. He’s not a bad kid. He just needs to find his way back to a positive direction.”

  Maggie chuckled. “Don’t we all?”

  “How about if you talk to him tomorrow? After Danny’s school program, you both can go on a picnic for lunch. That’ll give you some time away from the group. After that, I’ll give you another riding lesson when they are in afternoon school. Sound good?”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  “Well, back to work.” Joe stood and pulled
a piece of paper from his back pocket. “Can I have everyone’s attention, please?” He waited until there was silence. “I have the duty roster for tomorrow. Dan Turner, you’ll be picking up litter along the Silver River. See Cookie for a box lunch. Maggie McIntyre, you’re assigned to the same cleanup. And McIntyre, you’re also assigned to assist Cookie tomorrow for breakfast.”

  She felt a warmth inside her grow. Joe Watley obviously knew how to avoid the ribbing Danny would have taken if he’d announced instead that Danny was going on a picnic lunch with his aunt.

  Impressive.

  Someone would figure it out, she was sure, but at least now they’d have a reason to spend some time together.

  She hoped that it would turn out well—for both of them.

  Maggie enjoyed working with Cookie, and even talked the cantankerous cowboy into letting her fry the eggs, pancakes and potatoes instead of just shuttling platters to the tables. She was even successful in nudging him into serving a fruit salad to balance some of the grease.

  But he wouldn’t let her make the coffee.

  “It has to be strong enough to float a horseshoe,” he’d told her.

  After clearing up breakfast, she helped start lunch while the kids went to their morning classes. She also made two picnic lunches—one for herself, and one for Danny.

  Armed with their lunch and two big plastic garbage bags to pick up litter, she met Danny by the corral.

  They started to walk along the Silver River, and it was clear that Danny wasn’t in the mood to talk.

  “So, how’s everything going so far?” she asked.

  “Okay.”

  “Are you getting along with the other boys?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” He avoided her eyes.

  “Just what I asked. Everyone getting along?” she pressed.

  “I guess so.”

  “How about Joe? I think he’s doing a great job.”

  “Brandon Avery told me that you were holding hands with him. I think you like him—a lot.”

  She took a deep breath and jumped right in. “Look, Danny, I do like Joe, but it’s not like that. He’s dedicated to making his program work, and I think he really cares about everyone in Cowboy Quest, but that’s about it.”