Cowboy Dreaming

For the first time Cody noticed the scratches on his chest. It had all happened so quickly he had not been aware of them. The only thing clear in his mind was the moment he had discovered it was a woman he had tackled—the moment his hand closed over her breast. “That’s all right. I guess you’re entitled to defend yourself, even if you’re the one who’s the intruder.” He had expected some sort of rebuttal from her, but he did not get it.

Mel heard his words but was unable to respond to his accusation. There were too many memories, too many old feelings, all clamoring for her undivided attention. She looked up at Cody again. His stance had softened, as had his expression. “Where’s my father?”

“He’s moved from his bedroom into the parlor. Not only is it a much larger room, it’s also a bright corner room with lots of windows that give him the morning sun. He seems to be more comfortable there. He’s asleep now and I don’t want him disturbed.” Those last words carried the sound of absolute authority, again challenging her right to be there.

“But I’m his daughter—”

“Yes, the daughter who hasn’t sent as much as a postcard in nearly ten years.” The hard edge returned to Cody’s voice as he spoke through clenched teeth. “The daughter who broke his heart.”

Mel jumped to her feet. She would not tolerate any more insolence from this stranger who seemed to have appointed himself Lord of the Manor. The angry words spewed out before she could stop them. “How dare you presume to make judgments about me and my relationship with my father? You weren’t here. You don’t know what happened!” She fought back the tears. Her voice dropped to a mere whisper as she forced the words. “You don’t know anything about it.” She quickly regained her composure, her indignation once again taking command. “Besides, it’s none of your business!” She felt the heat color her cheeks and the angry tears sting her eyes.

The old grandfather clock struck five times, drawing Cody’s attention away from Mel. If he were not already standing in the living room, it would be time to get up. He became aware of the cold air against his chest and his bare feet. He did not answer her challenge. He wasn’t sure how to answer it. Perhaps he had been out of line in what he said, but he certainly had no intention of apologizing. He turned and went to his bedroom to finish dressing.

Mel watched as he walked down the hall and entered the first room on the right, closing the door behind him. Maybe he was through with the conversation, but she was far from finished with him. She charged down the hall and banged open his bedroom door, barging in uninvited. “Hey, you, cowboy—don’t you dare turn your back on me and walk away while I’m talking!”

His angry voice matched hers. “And don’t you dare—” He didn’t bother to finish his sentence, but grabbed her around the waist, effortlessly lifted her off the floor and carried her out into the hallway. Instead of putting her down, he held her up so that they were eye-to-eye, so close their noses were almost touching. His voice was soft, almost a whisper. “And don’t you dare barge into my bedroom again unless you have something a lot more interesting on your mind than merely talking.” He held her close for a moment longer, then abruptly deposited her on the floor.

He returned to his bedroom and closed the door, leaving Mel in the darkened hallway with her sensibilities totally shaken. She leaned back against the wall for support. What had just happened? One moment she was so angry she could have punched him in the nose and the next moment his nearness literally took her breath away and left her weak in the knees.

Cody peeled off his jeans and tossed them in a corner on his way into his bathroom. He had moved into the main house almost a year ago, when Buck’s illness started to take a noticeable physical toll. The bedroom/sitting room/bathroom suite had originally been for guests, but Buck had insisted that Cody occupy it. The two men had conspired to keep Buck’s illness as much of a secret as possible. At the time they were in the process of renegotiating a large existing bank loan being used for expansion and upgrading equipment. Buck didn’t want anyone to know he was not running things with his usual iron hand and total authority.

Cody showered, shaved and dressed, but the activity didn’t divert him from the nagging memory of his body pressed on top of Melanie’s. Her fiery temper had only accentuated the golden sparks that seemed to ignite in her hazel eyes when she lashed out at him with her anger. The lush fullness of her lower lip had trembled slightly when she fought back the tears. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was cognizant of just how much of her physical description had managed to seep into his consciousness. It was a realization that did not please him.

Cody stepped out into the hallway and was greeted by the smell of freshly brewed coffee. It was only five-thirty and the sun was not even up, but already it had been a very eventful morning. He hurried toward the kitchen, telling himself it was the coffee that beckoned rather than the prospect of engaging in another confrontation with Melanie Winslow. He grudgingly admitted to himself that she had done an admirable job holding her ground against him, but he was not sure exactly how he felt about it.

He stopped at the kitchen door. The lights were on, a glass of orange juice sat on the counter and steam rose from the mug of hot coffee beside it, but Melanie was nowhere to be seen.

“Buck.” The word escaped his mouth in a hushed urgency as the realization struck him full force. He whirled around and hurried across the house toward the parlor. If she’s disturbed him, I’ll—His thought deserted him as soon as he spotted her standing just inside the parlor door. The expression on her face said it all. The defiant woman he had been sparring with only half an hour ago was gone and in her place stood a lost little girl who looked so in need of someone to take care of her.

Melanie had not been prepared for the sight that greeted her. Her father was six feet four inches tall with a large barrel chest and broad shoulders. He weighed two hundred forty pounds, all of it pure muscle. His hair was jet black and his eyes were a piercing dark brown. All in all, he was quite an imposing sight. At least, that was the way she had remembered him.

The man sleeping in the bed certainly did not fit that description. His hair had thinned considerably and what was left had turned gray. His face was lean, making his squared jaw seem out of proportion. Even in sleep he appeared drawn and haggard. He almost seemed frail—a word she would never in her life have associated with her father. He looked much older than his sixty-four years.

Cody wrapped his strong fingers around her arm and yanked her out of the room. He quietly closed the door before ushering her back to the kitchen. She wrenched her arm out of his grasp and fixed him with an angry stare.

“Just what do you think you’re doing? I told you I didn’t want Buck disturbed. He needs his rest.” He saw the golden flecks ignite in her eyes. The little girl who had been quietly standing at the door of the parlor had vanished and the female wildcat had reappeared. “The last thing he needs is the type of aggravation you represent. Now, stay out of his room. At least until I’ve had an opportunity to prepare him for this little surprise.” Surprise, indeed. That was certainly the biggest understatement of the century.

“I’ve really had quite enough of this and quite enough of you! Now, get out of my way. I’m going to—”

He grabbed her around the waist and sat her up on the countertop. He leaned in very close to her, as he had done before. “You’re going to do exactly what I tell you to do.” Cody glanced back over his shoulder toward the kitchen door, then turned toward Mel again. “And try to show a little consideration. Keep your voice down. I don’t want your yelling to wake Buck.”

As much as Mel hated to agree with this obnoxious bully, he was probably right about waking her father. She might have disagreed with him a little while ago, but as soon as she saw her father she knew Cody had been honest about the condition of his health.

Melanie shoved Cody away and slid off the counter to the floor. She glared at him, hands on hips in as much of a physical challenge as a verbal one. She did make a concerted effort to keep her voice low. “Stop manhandling me as if I were some sort of a round peg you were trying to fit into a square hole.”

He laughed. For the first time she actually saw something on his face other than a stern expression or a scowl. It was a nice laugh and an absolutely devastating smile.

“You said it, kid—not me.”

Her anger exploded again. “I am not a kid! I’m twenty-eight years old and have traveled in fifteen different countries on five of the seven continents. My photos and articles have appeared in some of the most prestigious and popular magazines in the world. I haven’t spent my life stagnating out here—” she waved toward the window in a broad, sweeping gesture “—in the middle of nowhere.”

The smile faded from Cody’s face. He leveled a cool gaze at her, then spoke in a very controlled voice, showing no emotion. “I’m thirty-seven years old. I have a bachelor’s degree in finance and a master’s degree in philosophy. I’ve done my share of world traveling. I’m fluent in both German and French and can get by in Spanish. Now, if we’re through comparing résumés perhaps we can return to the problem at hand. Namely, your sudden reappearance—for whatever the reason—and how it can be handled so as not to upset Buck any more than need be.”

This man standing in front of her wearing scuffed cowboy boots, worn jeans and a denim work shirt had a master’s degree in philosophy and was fluent in both French and German? She hoped her face didn’t give her away. Didn’t tell him how shocked and at the same time impressed she was with what he had told her. “Well, if those are indeed your credentials, then what are you doing stuck out here in the boonies working on a ranch?”

“I like it here.” It was a flat statement that said to one and all that the topic was closed to further discussion. He had been that route before—the society parties, being seen with the right people, only going to the in places—and was not interested in traveling over that road again. He wanted his feet planted firmly on real ground, not moving blindly through a world of big-city skyscrapers populated with plastic people.

“Cody?” The voice came from the direction of the parlor. It was not the booming voice of authority it had once been. It grew louder as its owner progressed toward the kitchen. “Is there some problem out there?”

Melanie saw the anger in Cody’s eyes and heard the warning in his tone of voice.

“Don’t you even hint at the possibility that there might have been the slightest disagreement spoken here this morning. Seeing you is going to be shock enough for Buck without the stress of an unpleasant confrontation.”

“Cody—” Buck paused at the kitchen door and blinked several times. He removed his glasses from his shirt pocket and put them on. His expression showed his confusion and uncertainty. His voice was hesitant. “Melanie?” His expression changed as he continued to speak. “Is that you, Mel, honey?”

Cody saw the surprise settle on Buck’s face and the shaky movement of his hand as he gripped the doorjamb in an effort to steady himself, and was immediately at his side. He offered Buck a gentle smile as he discreetly cupped his elbow and assisted the older man to the kitchen table without making it appear that the help was needed. “We have an early-morning visitor, Buck. She showed up at the door just a bit ago. Quite a surprise for me. I didn’t recognize her from the picture you have.”

Buck’s face lit up with a warmth Mel had never associated with her father during the entire eighteen years she had lived in the same house with him. His eyes glistened.

“Have you come home, Melanie? Have you finally come home?”

Two (#ulink_6022b5b8-b01e-5bf3-bfb3-3dc4c119bc03)

For perhaps the first time in her adult life Melanie Winslow was at a total loss for words. She stole a glance at Cody and caught the stern look he directed toward her. She looked again at her father’s deteriorated condition and understood the wisdom of Cody’s admonition. Her once hearty and robust father had been reduced to this frail man who appeared at least ten years older than he really was.

“Yes, Father. It’s me. I…” She swallowed in an attempt to lessen the lump that had begun to form in her throat. She covered her uneasiness by picking up her cup of coffee and carrying it to the table. She sat down across from her father, forcing a smile that she did not really feel. “I just wrapped up an assignment in this area. I…I’ve been working as a photojournalist for several years now and I was shooting a story in Rocky Mountain National Park.”

Buck’s voice was soft, as if the simple task of talking required an extra effort on his part. “I know all about your work, honey. I’ve seen your magazine articles.” He paused, taking time to catch his breath. “You’ve done very well for yourself. I’m real proud of you, Mel—we all are.” He glanced over at Cody. “Isn’t that right?”

“It sure is, Buck.” Cody gave his friend a comforting smile as he placed a cup of hot coffee in front of him. “We’re all real proud.”

To all outward appearances Melanie Winslow and Cody Chandler had been engaged in amiable conversation prior to Buck’s arrival. There was nothing in Cody’s voice or his expression that would indicate anything to the contrary. Melanie tried her best to be equally diligent in perpetuating the deception, at least until she had a chance to think things through and get a better handle on what was happening.

There would be ample opportunity later for her to let Cody know exactly what she thought about all of this and determine whether she wanted to continue with the charade. First she would need to know exactly what was wrong with her father and the prognosis for his recovery. But for now, she sipped her coffee and tried to pretend that what she had just said was the truth. This was certainly far removed from what she’d had in mind when she started driving from Los Angeles. Actually, she was not sure exactly what she’d had in mind. It was a series of disjointed ideas that had not yet formed into a solid plan.

Melanie was startled out of her thoughts by the feel of a cold hand covering hers—an icy-cold hand. She looked up into the warmth emanating from her father’s face. She did not know if it was her imagination, but his color seemed much better than when he first entered the kitchen. There seemed to be a bit of sparkle in his eyes. He did not look as drawn and withered as when she had observed him in his sleep.

She tried not to jerk her hand away but did manage to tactfully withdraw it from his reach. She took another sip of her coffee, her mind frantically trying to produce some sort of basis for polite conversation. “I didn’t have an opportunity to see the ranch when I arrived. Even with the full moon it was still too dark. But, from what I could see along the entrance drive, it looks like you’ve made several changes.”

“You can credit Cody with that.” Buck glanced over at his friend and ranch foreman. The genuine affection he felt for the man was obvious. “He’s really been an asset. I’m afraid the place was getting a little run-down. Then Cody came on the scene and things really turned around. Now it’s quite a showplace in addition to being a model of efficiency. We’ve almost doubled our productivity and increased our profit margin substantially. It’s really something to be proud of.”

“Well, that’s nice.” She heard the strain in her voice and wished she had better control of it.

“You’re going to be real surprised by what you see, honey.” He continued, then stopped as if a thought had struck him. “Are you all settled in okay? Did you put your things in your old bedroom? I’ve kept it for you, honey, just the way you left it.” Again he reached across the table and covered her hand with his in a loving gesture. “I knew you’d come back home someday.”

Cody noticed the grimace that crossed her face at the mention of the ranch being her home and the way her body stiffened when Buck covered her hand. He felt his insides tighten. He did not have time for this nonsense—catering to Buck’s wayward daughter. As far as he was concerned, she could get back into her car and head west until she reached the ocean. The only thing that kept him from telling her to do just that was his very real affection for Buck and his concern for the old man’s health. She seemed to be having a positive effect on him.

“No, I haven’t unpacked yet. My things are still in the car.”