Maggie looked so very…kissable.

A laugh from the bunkhouse brought him back to reality. What was he thinking? She was a participant in his program.

“Um…good night, Joe.”

“Night, Maggie.” He headed down the path, then stopped. “The phone number to the bunkhouse is right by the phone. Call if you need anything—anything at all.”

He gritted his teeth. That sounded like a proposition, and he hadn’t meant that at all.

“I mean…uh…” He couldn’t think.

“I know what you mean, Joe. See you bright and early in the morning.”

He caught himself whistling as he walked to the bunkhouse. He hadn’t whistled in ages.

But sleep wouldn’t come. He kept thinking about Maggie, who had a wagonload of trouble she had to deal with. Her heaviest cargo was the smallest kid in Cowboy Quest.

Would he be able to help her?

Dear Reader,

The Cowboy Code kicks off my new miniseries, Gold Buckle Cowboys, which I hope you’ll love reading as much as I’ve enjoyed writing. The gold buckle symbolizes the cowboy’s victory over wild bulls, broncs or steers in competition. Every cowboy wants a gold buckle—even more than money. The buckle is a conversation piece, a good pickup topic for a “buckle bunny,” and it can be pawned when a cowboy is down and out—although he’d rather cut off an arm!

My Gold Buckle Cowboys are honorable men with hearts of gold and a trophy case full of gold buckles. They are cowboys who turn to mush over kids and can be tamed only by women who are as strong as they are.

They are cowboys who will win your heart in eight seconds!

What woman wouldn’t want a Gold Buckle Cowboy’s boots under her bed?

I’d love to hear from you! I can be contacted at www.christinewenger.com or at P.O. Box 2000, Cicero, NY 13039.

Cowboy up!

Chris Wenger

The Cowboy Code
Christine Wenger

MILLS & BOON

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CHRISTINE WENGER

has worked in the criminal justice field for more years than she cares to remember. She has a master’s degree in probation and parole studies and sociology from Fordham University, but the knowledge gained from such studies certainly has not prepared her for what she loves to do most—write romance! A native central New Yorker, she enjoys watching professional bull riding and rodeo with her favorite cowboy, her husband, Jim.

Chris would love to hear from readers. She can be reached by mail at P.O. Box 2000, Cicero, NY, 13039 or through her website at christinewenger.com.

To my wonderful sister-in-law, Jean Matyjasik,

for her friendship, laughter and good nature.

And she can make a really good babka!

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter One

Maggie McIntyre couldn’t wait to unfold herself from the dusty wreck of a pickup truck sent from the Silver River Ranch.

It had been a long, tedious day that had started at dawn, when her nephew Danny was released to her from juvenile detention in lower Manhattan. Then they had had to change planes three times—starting at JFK International Airport—before they’d finally landed at this blip on the map called Mountain Springs, Wyoming.

And throughout the day, Danny had barely spoke three words to her, civil or otherwise.

To alleviate his worries—if he was indeed worrying—she’d tried to convince him that the Cow boy Quest Program would be a good experience for both of them, but she had a feeling that her monologue had fallen on deaf ears.

Still, Maggie hoped that at least some of her words would sink in. Maybe Danny would realize that they were in Cowboy Quest together—as a family—and not only would they work on their communication skills and strengthen their bond, but they’d have a good time, too.

Where else could they learn to rope, ride horses, go on a cattle drive and basically live differently than what they were used to? It would be an experience that they’d remember their entire lives.

As she spoke, Danny remained silent and aloof.

Would there ever come a day when she’d be able to reach him? What had happened to the sweet boy that she’d watched grow up? When had he turned into a hostile and shuttered thirteen-year-old?

Finally, after a long, bumpy drive, they pulled into the entrance of the ranch. As far as she could see in the dusky light, there were miles of emerald-green grass shimmering in the spring breeze.

So this was the Wild West—although she hoped it wasn’t too wild.

Maggie paused a moment before opening the door and studied the ranch house in front of her. Floor-to-ceiling windows jutted out from the middle of the two angled wings, and it reminded her of a bird—in this case, an eagle—about to take flight.

The house—if that was the right term—sat regally on a hill overlooking several outbuildings and the surrounding countryside. Brick walkways led to some of these outbuildings.

Maggie couldn’t wait to explore.

Their driver, Quint, who was as quiet as Danny during the drive here, opened the door of the truck for her, and Maggie stepped onto a soft patch of Wyoming grass.

“C’mon, Danny,” she said, zipping up her designer fleece coat. “We’re here.”

No answer.

“Aren’t you going to get out of the truck, son?” Quint asked.

In response, the wizened cowboy got a bored shrug from the sullen teenager.

Maggie hoped that the change of scenery would be what she and Danny needed to rebuild and strengthen their relationship, but that wouldn’t happen if he wouldn’t even get out of the truck.

Maggie had only herself to blame for the chasm between Danny and herself. When her sister, Liz, died two years ago—four years after the boy’s father—leaving her as Danny’s sole guardian, Maggie had immersed herself even more in her acting, her escape from the painful loss of the sister she’d so loved. Besides, she was a single mother now, and she needed to support herself and Danny. With a heavy heart, she’d realized too late that her absence from Danny had done him more harm than good. At a time when he’d needed her the most, she’d been working long hours—and Danny had been getting into trouble.

She had to have faith that Joe Watley’s Cowboy Quest program would be her nephew’s salvation—and hers, too.

She hoped that Cowboy Quest would somehow help Danny realize that their shared grief was keeping them apart, and that he was acting out because he was afraid of losing her, too. Her job would be to help Danny accept the fact that he’d never lose her. She’d always be in his life, always be there for him.

If she and Danny were able to accomplish these important things, they would be well on their way to becoming a real family, and Maggie wanted that more than anything.

If Danny successfully completed the program, the family court wouldn’t place him in a juvenile correctional facility.

If Danny were placed, that would mean she had failed him, and Maggie couldn’t stand to bear that burden. Liz had given up so much to help Maggie’s career in the theater. If she failed Danny, it would be like failing Liz, too.

As she looked around, she noticed a man walking toward her—a big hulk of a man. Judging by his white hat and saucer-sized belt buckle, she concluded that he was definitely a cowboy.

Maggie tried not to stare at him, but she couldn’t help herself. She felt as if she was being pulled toward him by some unknown force. He was the epitome of what she thought a real cowboy would look like. His straight black hair was pulled into a ponytail with a string of rawhide, and he wore a long-sleeved chambray shirt tucked into a pair of faded denim jeans.

If his high cheekbones were any indication, he might even have some Native American blood. His skin was a deep shade of brown, but that could be just from all the outdoor work he must do.

There weren’t many cowboys in Manhattan, but he’d certainly stand out in a crowd among any. He’d probably stand out in a crowd here in Wyoming, too.

But what credentials did this big cowboy have, other than the fact that the family court judge seemed to have absolute faith in him? Could she really trust him with her nephew?

And why wasn’t there any information about the program online?

He stopped in front of her and smiled warmly. “Welcome to the Silver River Ranch. You must be Maggie McIntyre.” He yanked a brown leather work glove off and held out his hand. “I’m Joe Watley, and I’m in charge of the Cowboy Quest program. Sorry I wasn’t able to pick you and Danny up at the airport myself, but there was a problem with one of my bulls.”

Maggie held out her hand, and as he engulfed it in his, she felt a shock zip through her body, and all her senses were suddenly on alert. His calloused grip told her that he did more than run a program for juvenile delinquents and oversee a ranch. He did hard work.

He released her hand and tugged his glove back on. “The vet had just arrived, so I couldn’t leave, but I’m sure that Quint took good care of you.”

“He did. And Mr. Watley, I’d like to thank you for accepting my nephew into your program,” she said with more conviction than she actually felt.

“Call me Joe.” He pushed his hat back with a thumb. “I believe that you’re participating in my program, too, Ms. McIntyre.”

Judge Cunningham felt that six weeks of Joe’s Cowboy Quest program would be a good bonding experience for both of them—in fact, he’d made it a condition of her ability to maintain custody. Maggie hoped with all her heart that this program would solve all their problems.

“It’s good to be here.” Maggie forced herself to keep her eyes on Joe’s and stop her inspection of his muscular body. “Danny is very happy to be part of your program and be here on your ranch.”

“I doubt that very much, since he won’t even get out of the truck.” Joe’s onyx eyes twinkled and a smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. “And I doubt that you’re thrilled to be here, either. It’s a far cry from Broadway.”

“You know about me?” Maggie asked.

“I have a copy of the probation officer’s report.”

“I see,” she said, unnerved. “Well, I’m here for Danny, and I’m going to do my best.”

“So will I.”

Maggie remembered the serious probation officer who’d come to her SoHo apartment to interview her and Danny in order to prepare an investigation. The officer had stated that the report would go to the judge to assist him in deciding what to do with Danny. Now Joe had a copy of the report. Maggie didn’t know if she wanted him or his staff or anyone else knowing about her family problems, but then again, he probably needed the information in order to help.

Still, what could this cowboy do, when the best social workers and psychologists in New York City couldn’t get Danny to change his behavior?

Maggie looked back at the pickup. Danny still sat in the front seat, and Quint still stood by the opened passenger door, looking amused. The set of the boy’s shoulders told Maggie exactly what Danny was thinking—he wanted to be anywhere but here.

But they were both here because Danny had been acting as a lookout while his so-called friends were burglarizing a nearby grocery store. The others had gotten away, but Danny was arrested and refused to name the others involved.

She’d had a talk with him about being a leader instead of a follower, but apparently it hadn’t sunk in, judging by his attitude.

She met Joe’s gaze and stiffened her shoulders. This would be just as hard as she’d thought.

Maggie began walking toward the pickup to have a word with Danny, but Joe placed his hand on her shoulder. “I’ll take care of it. He’s my responsibility now.”

His light touch was warm and reassuring, and Maggie felt the same relief wash over her as she felt when the curtain closed at the end of a performance and the audience erupted in applause. It was then, and only then, that she could relax.

But she couldn’t relax here. The Cowboy Quest program would be work, hard work. Her plan was to throw herself into the program just like she did when she prepared for a new role. She loved Danny as if she’d actually given birth to him, and she would do whatever it took to heal their broken relationship.

Joe walked over to where Danny sat. “Welcome to the Silver River Ranch, partner. I’m Joe Watley. I’m in charge of the program.”

Maggie let the low timbre of his voice wash over her, relax her. Joe didn’t waste a word, and he spoke with complete confidence and authority.

Danny looked away, but Joe pressed on. “I hope you don’t expect Quint to unload your luggage. Every cowboy here hauls his own weight, and that means you, too. We’ll get you settled in the bunkhouse, and then we’ll take your aunt’s things to the main house.”

“The main house?” Danny asked, looking up for the first time.

“Did you expect her to stay in the bunkhouse with the other participants?” Joe asked with a grin.

“Where are you going to be?” Danny asked. Sarcasm dripped from his voice like icicles melting from a roof.

“I’ll be staying in the bunkhouse with everyone else.” Joe met Danny’s eyes. “And it’s to your credit that you’re looking after your aunt. Being respectful to women is part of the Cowboy Code.”

“The Cowboy Code? Spare me.” He rolled his eyes. “That’s lame.”

“It’s not lame. The Cowboy Code consists of general rules for gentlemanly behavior—things that any good citizen should follow. And believe it or not, you got one of the components.” Joe grinned. “One down, several to go.”

Danny didn’t turn away, but blinked, stunned. Slowly—grudgingly—he climbed out of the truck.

Maggie was impressed with Joe’s response to Danny’s sarcasm. He’d taken what could have been a sensitive subject and ended it on an upbeat note.

Was Danny worried that she and Joe might get close?

She wondered, not for the first time, what went on in a thirteen-year-old boy’s head. Why would he think that they’d live under the same roof and get involved just like that? Merciful heavens, she’d just met the man.

Was Danny worried that she’d spend more time with Joe than with him?

Then it dawned on her. Steve Rayborn. She remembered when Danny had thought that she was serious about Steve, a costar in her last musical. A dear friend, he’d helped her through Liz’s two-year battle with cancer and her ongoing struggle to act like a parent. When Maggie finally confronted Danny about his silent treatment and rude remarks toward Steve, the boy had admitted that he thought Maggie was going to marry Steve and that they wouldn’t want him.

Realizing how frightened her nephew was of losing the only family he had left, Maggie explained that Steve was just a friend, and that Danny would always be first and foremost in her life.

Now, though, it seemed that Danny’s old insecurities were resurfacing. But she hoped that Cowboy Quest would finally put her fears to rest. Sure, Joe was out of the ordinary and handsome enough to be a leading man, but Maggie had enough to deal with right now without adding romance to her life. Besides, she was too worried about Danny’s future to think about starting something with Joe, or anyone else for that matter.

She’d have to try and explain that to her nephew and encourage him to take this program more seriously. He didn’t seem to care that he could be placed in foster care.

As she watched Joe and Danny hauling luggage together, she looked up at the vibrant colors of the setting sun and said a little prayer that Joe would be able to reach the boy.

Joe motioned for her to join them. “Maggie, come and see the bunkhouse. It’s not much, but Danny’s going to call it home for six weeks.”

They walked in silence with nothing but the crunch of the gravelly path under their feet. In front of them stood a long stretch of clapboard building with several windows and an inviting porch with a dozen white rocking chairs. Some swayed slightly in the late-spring breeze, as if ghostly inhabitants were enjoying an evening break.

Joe knocked on the door. “Lady present. Is everyone decent?”

She could hear the scraping of chairs and the sound of boots on a wooden floor.

“Yeah, boss. C’mon in.” The voice sounded like Quint’s.

As Joe opened the door, seven cowboys stood at attention, holding their hats in their hands.

Joe introduced them. “Adriano, he’s my foreman. This handsome gent is Guillerme, or Willy for short. And this tall son-of-a-gun is Ronnie. Gentlemen, I’d like you to meet Dan Turner and his aunt, Maggie McIntyre.”

There were four more cowboys present whose names she promptly forgot. She forced a smile and shook hands, wondering again how these men could possibly help Danny.

What on earth was Judge Cunningham thinking?

Danny halfheartedly shook hands with them all, but he wasn’t smiling. Right now he seemed younger than his thirteen years. His long, narrow face sprinkled with freckles made him look about ten years old. He was thin, bordering on skinny, but his fierce blue eyes were the windows to his soul. And right now, his soul wasn’t happy.

Maggie gave the bunkhouse a quick glance. The walls were just plywood, and there was nothing to give the big room color other than a calendar with a green tractor urging insurance in case of ranch accidents.

A long, beat-up table sported coffee-ring stains, an array of assorted mugs and lots of dig marks, no doubt made by the men’s spurs when they put their feet up on the table.

A fairly new galley kitchen ran half the length of the room, but what she noticed the most was the monstrous coffeemaker on a round table by the stove. In fact, the whole place smelled of coffee.

“Danny, you’re the first participant to arrive. The others will be here any time now,” Ronnie stated. “You get to pick your bunk.”

“I don’t care,” Danny said, but Maggie noticed that he looked around and drifted toward one of the metal cots by a window.

He’s probably planning his escape route, she thought.

The bunkhouse was certainly a few stories down from their apartment in SoHo. And here Danny didn’t have his own bedroom.

Joe held out his hand to shake Danny’s. “I’ll see you later for grub. Make up your bunk and get settled in, and I’ll escort your aunt to the main house. When the others arrive, the boys will show you all around the ranch.”

Danny shook Joe’s hand but didn’t meet his gaze, looking at the floor. Maggie tried to swallow the lump in her throat, saddened that Danny would freeze out the man who was his best shot at a fresh start.

She willed herself to believe that coming here had been a good idea.

As she followed Joe up the hill to the house, Maggie noticed that the rambling stone and log structure somehow fit perfectly into the landscape. A snow-capped mountain range and a copse of conifers peeked over the roof, completing the picture.

Maggie stared in awe. “What a breathtaking house. I can’t wait to see inside.”

There was still a fairly steep climb on a landscaped brick walkway to get to the front door.

Joe smiled. “My father built it for my mother when they were first married. She’s Lakota Sioux, and he constructed the house with twelve beams, just like the Lakota teepee was constructed with twelve poles. And the door faces east, which represents the rising sun and a new day.”

She’d been right. He was part Native American.

She stole a glance at Joe. Effortlessly carrying her heavy suitcase and tote bag, he wasn’t even breathing hard. Every arm muscle bulged under his shirt. His thighs looked rock-hard under his jeans.

His physical appearance made her heart pump faster, but there was so much more to Joe. He seemed to have a quiet dignity and an almost inner peace about him, as if he knew the secret of keeping centered. She hoped he’d share his secret with Danny, and her, too.

Maybe Danny was right to worry. She was interested in Joe.

But she wasn’t interested in him in a romantic way. He intrigued her, probably because he was just so different from the men she knew. That didn’t mean that they were going to start something, like Danny seemed to think.

Not when her main concern was her nephew and getting him through Cowboy Quest.

She might as well add herself to that. She had to get through Cowboy Quest, too, and she didn’t know the first thing about riding a horse or going on a cattle drive.

But one thing she did know was that she was going to do her best and then maybe, just maybe, she and Danny would become a closer, happier and stronger family.

Chapter Two

Joe felt the burn in his muscles from carrying Maggie’s suitcases up the hill to his house.

Good. It took his mind off her—a little.

She was a strikingly beautiful woman. Her hair shimmered like spun gold in the afternoon sun, and her green eyes were bright and sparkly. Even if he hadn’t already known from reading the probation department’s report, he could tell she was a dancer by the way she moved—graceful and light on her feet. She almost floated when she walked.

She didn’t seem to be the type who could handle mucking out stalls, grooming horses or several days on a cattle drive.

He opened the door to let her in. “Make yourself at home. My Aunt Betty is usually here in the office doing the record keeping and running my life, not necessarily in that order, but she’s visiting her sister in Tucson for a couple of months. So the place is all yours.”

“I can’t imagine having this whole house to myself. This is magnificent, Joe. My apartment in New York can fit into it about forty times!” Her excitement faded. “But if I wasn’t here, you could have stayed in your home instead of at the bunkhouse.”

“No, I always bunk with the kids during Cowboy Quest. So make yourself at home.”

The only other woman who had ever stayed at his ranch was Ellen Rogers. Ellen had stolen his heart when she kissed him on the playground in fourth grade, after he’d stopped some boys from teasing her.

That was about the time he learned that he didn’t have to start swinging his fists to get his point across. His size alone—even in grade school—made him seem formidable.

They’d become lifelong friends after that. Inseparable. Her parents had the neighboring ranch, about twenty miles away, and their spread was almost as big as the Silver River.

He’d asked Ellen to marry him when they graduated from college, and she’d agreed—but she didn’t seem as excited as he’d expected. Then she broke up with him four months later and moved to Los Angeles, where she’d taken a job with a software company. He couldn’t remember the details; all he heard was her voice saying, “I’m sorry, Joe. But I don’t want to live on a ranch. I want more.”

He still wondered if she’d ever truly loved him. If she had, then they could have worked something out. But instead, she’d picked concrete, high-rises and crowds over his Silver River Ranch.

And all his dreams went up in smoke.

He’d built up the Silver River Ranch in the hope he’d have a wife and kids to share it with, but obviously that wasn’t in the cards. At least the ranch was solid and dependable. Women were flighty and fickle—and he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

A crash brought him back to reality. It was Maggie, scared by Calico, his aunt’s cat.

Luckily, it was only a suitcase that she had kicked over—it had hit the wooden floor with a solid smack. As Maggie scrambled to right it, he noticed that her hands were shaking.

She was nervous, and he didn’t think that it was just the cat.

Was it him? Or the situation?

“Maggie, have you ever been on a ranch before?” he asked.

“No.”

“Have you ever ridden a horse?”

“No.”

“Are you scared to ride?” he asked. “Or just nervous?”

“A little of both.” She bit her lip—the simple gesture made his blood heat for some reason.

“Okay, I’m a lot scared and a lot nervous. I’m scared of losing Danny to the system. I’m scared of the whole cattle drive. But mostly, I’m scared that Cowboy Quest won’t be enough to help us fix what’s broken.”

Joe wanted to take Maggie’s hand and assure her that everything would be okay, that Cowboy Quest was all about improving communication skills and team building, but he didn’t dare touch her. Nor did he want to tell her that, from what he’d read, Maggie and Danny simply needed time together.

If she hadn’t already figured that out, she would.

“Please don’t worry, Maggie. Believe me, all your concerns will be addressed. If not, just come to me.”

She closed her eyes and let out a long breath. “Thank you. That makes me feel much better. And I’ll come to you for any help I may need. I really want to make the most out of your program.”

“Perfect. That’s just what I want to hear.”

Then it dawned on him.

Since she was the first adult that he had in his program, and a woman at that, he’d have to make some concessions for her, like separate facilities and her own tent for the cattle drive. But he couldn’t afford to make too many allowances for her lack of experience when he had a lot to accomplish before the cattle drive started.

Joe also knew that Maggie wasn’t likely to confide in him too much. But he was sympathetic to Maggie’s problems with Danny. He knew what was at stake for them both, and she had a darn good reason to worry.

Adding that to the fact that she needed to complete Cowboy Quest with Danny—and learn to ride, apparently—he definitely could empathize with what she was going through.

He’d do everything possible to help her.

He felt like he already knew her—at least, Maggie the performer. He knew she’d won a Tony award and had appeared in numerous musicals and even on TV.

He also knew things had been going fine with Danny up until his mother’s death two years ago. Then Danny started running with a bad bunch of kids. The probation officer who investigated the situation felt that Maggie’s rehearsal and performance schedule left Danny alone much too often, and that he needed more supervision.

On one of those nights when he’d snuck out of the apartment, Danny had been arrested.

In a phone call from his old college buddy, Judge Pat Cunningham in New York City, Joe had learned that Maggie had to give up rehearsals for a new show in order to participate in Cowboy Quest. Pat felt bad about that, but knew that it was important for Maggie to spend time with Danny, to bond and rebuild the stable home environment he so desperately needed.

Her intentions were admirable, but Joe hoped that it wasn’t too late. Why had she let things come to this?

“Look at all this counter space,” Maggie said, running her hand along the emerald-green granite. “I never have much time to cook, but I love it. I tape all the cooking shows and try different recipes whenever I can.”

Maggie suddenly froze in place, then slowly turned to him. “Whoa. Am I supposed to cook for everyone in the program?”

He stifled a smile. “Well, you said you liked to cook.”

When her eyebrows shot up in shock, he chuckled. “I was just kidding. The ranch has a cook, and he always loves the challenge of a dozen more mouths to feed—a baker’s dozen, counting you.”

“Joe, am I the only parent or guardian who’s participating?”

“Yes.”

She looked like she was about to hit the panic button. “Just me?”

“We have other counseling components for family members set up post-Cowboy Quest, but you are it as far as an adult and as a female who’s going to actually join the cattle drive.” He grinned. “Twelve teenage boys, six cowboy counselors and you.”

Maggie raised an eyebrow. “Why am I the only one?”

“Judge Cunningham asked me to make an exception for you, so I did. Now let me show you to your room.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

And it was. He could tell that Maggie appreciated the view of the mountains from the guest bedroom, the balcony off the room with several lawn chairs and a table, the big log bed and the brightly striped Hudson’s Bay blankets that he’d acquired over the years.

There were several items handed down from his grandparents—his mother’s parents—that impressed her. He’d carefully preserved them in shadow boxes that he’d made and displayed them throughout the house.

His grandmother’s baskets and several pieces of clothing with her original beadwork, medicine bags—none of it escaped Maggie’s attention.

“And these photographs…fabulous.” She seemed to be talking to herself, then she turned to him. “Who is the photographer?”

“My dad. My mother is a travel reporter, and my father was a rancher and a stock contractor. I learned the business from him. But on the day I graduated from college, he drove up the driveway with a mammoth motor home, handed me the keys to this house and said that all five thousand acres were mine—and he was going to see the world with my mom.”

“Five thousand acres?” Her eyes grew wide. “He just walked away from all of this?”

“After I tried to talk him out of it, he confessed that he liked being on the road and seeing the world with my mother, that he’d grown tired of the ranch. And of course my mother was thrilled.”

He’d thought three people loved the ranch as much as he did—Ellen and his parents.

Damn, had he been wrong!

And what was wrong with his judgment of people?

The ranch meant everything to him. It was the reason he woke up every morning and the reason he went to bed exhausted each night. He knew every blade of grass, every animal and every tree on the property. It was his life’s blood.

Someone like Maggie could never understand that, so he wouldn’t even try explaining it to her.

“I’ll let you get settled then,” Joe said, then eyed her fancy blouse, slacks and strappy shoes. “I hope you brought some work clothes. If you’d like to change into something warmer, I’ll give you a quick tour of the ranch before the sun sets.”

“I’d like that.”

“I’ll wait for you in the living room.”

He settled into his favorite overstuffed chair and prepared to wait a long while for Miss Broadway, but to his surprise she appeared just a handful of minutes later. Obviously she was used to quick costume changes.

And change she had. Her dark blue jeans fit her snugly in all the right places. A pastel plaid blouse and a sparkly belt topped off her outfit, and it looked like she had on brand-new black cowboy boots.

He gave a long whistle. “You look like you’re ready to go out on the town. You’re dressed a little too fancy for Cowboy Quest.”

“Oh.” She shook her head. “My whole wardrobe is like this. I bought out Bloomingdale’s.”

“Maybe you could go shopping.”

“There are department stores here?”

“Sure. The Mountain Springs Feed and Sundries has a whole bunch of clothes next to the fertilizer and tractor parts.” He winked.

She laughed. “Let’s go.”

“You think I’m kidding?”

“I hope you are.” She picked up Calico and rubbed his ears. The cat snuggled up against her neck, pushing and rubbing her head against Maggie. The pure pleasure on Maggie’s face tugged at his heart, yet it troubled him to see the sadness in her eyes.

“We’ll get to be good friends, Calico. Won’t we?” she asked.

Calico purred his agreement.

“I’ve always wanted a pet,” she said. “But my schedule just doesn’t…” She scratched the cat’s ears. “I can’t even take care of Danny.”

“Yes, you can,” Joe said. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’ve both been through a terrible loss—it takes time to adjust.”

The lost look in her eyes made him want to take her into his arms, but Joe forced himself to get back to business.

“We’ll use the golf cart and follow the Silver River,” Joe said.

“Sounds good to me.”

A few minutes later, when she settled in next to him in the golf cart, he caught the scent of some floral perfume that suited her perfectly. The light breeze tossed her blond hair around her face, and he liked it when it brushed his shoulder. Too soon, she restrained it with some kind of clip.

He reminded himself again that this was business, not pleasure and that thinking about her perfume and hair wasn’t appropriate.

To make matters worse, the ground wasn’t level here—it was a jarring ride. Maggie kept bumping into him, not that he minded, and every now and then she’d shoot him an embarrassed glance.

Joe pulled up alongside of the river and drove slower. “Do you have any questions about the program?”

She looked straight ahead and he heard her inhale. “My only priority is making sure that Danny is okay. The other thing I need to do is to help him satisfactorily complete your program or he’s headed for placement in a juvenile facility, and I don’t want that.” She took a deep breath, and bit down on her bottom lip. “And I’m supposed to come up with some kind of plan for better supervision of Danny when we get back home and a way to spend more time with him. That’ll be a challenge. If I could have found a better plan, I would have instituted it.”

That lost look crept into her eyes again. “You’ll come up with something, Maggie. Maybe I can help.”

Joe knew that he had been given a lot of power over her and her relationship with Danny, and if he were Maggie, he wouldn’t like it either.

“It’s going to be hard trusting anyone with Danny,” she continued. “You see, I’ve had custody of him for the past two years. You’ve known him for—what?—twelve seconds?”

“I understand your concern. I do. But Cowboy Quest met with one hundred percent success the first time. This is our second run.”

“Define success,” she said, suddenly cooler.

“On paper, I’d say success would be all the boys completing all the requirements. But what I’d really want would be for them to use the components of it—the practical and character lessons—for a lifetime.”

She crossed her fingers. “I really hope that happens.”

“Me, too.”

“I read in your pamphlet that you have a master’s degree in special education,” she said.

“With a minor in psychology.”

She folded her arms in front of her. “And those cowboys in the bunkhouse? What are their credentials?”

“Believe it or not, a couple of them have graduate degrees, most have bachelor degrees, but more importantly, they are good men and good role models. And they care about each and every kid.”

“That’s good to hear,” she said. “How did you get into this, Joe?”

He rubbed his chin. Where to start? “My own father wasn’t around much when I was growing up. Either he was busy hauling livestock around the country, or he was traveling with my mother, taking photos for travel books. If it weren’t for Mr. Dixon—my pal Jake’s dad—I would have been placed in a juvenile correctional facility and never let out. He helped me in more ways than one. I guess I’m paying that back.”

He was worried about his program this time around. He had shared with his staff that the twelve boys they were getting seemed more difficult than the first group, and they all had a history of running away, including Danny. They’d all have to be extra vigilant.

But he was going to think positively. He had a good team.

“And if someone fails to complete the program?”

“No one has yet.” Joe studied her. Her brows were almost touching, and her hands were clasped tightly on her lap.

“But you’ve only had one run of Cowboy Quest so far. Danny’s future hinges on an almost untested program.”

“I suppose you could put it that way.” He met her worried look. “But Cowboy Quest has been under a lot of scrutiny from the state and county. It’s being studied as a model for other, similar programs.”

Her lips were pinched now, and she was looking away from him. She was definitely anxious.

“Maggie, don’t worry. Cowboy Quest is not about the riding or the livestock. It’s about problem solving, maturing and working as a team. We use the Cowboy Code as a guide for basic rules of living. So don’t worry. The boys and I will do everything possible to get everyone through the program with flying colors.”

Her grass-green eyes pooled with unshed tears and once again he felt the urge to comfort her.

The only reason he’d send in a negative report to Judge Cunningham on Maggie and Danny was if they didn’t make some attempt to resolve their issues, but he wasn’t going to tell her that yet. He needed to wait and see just how things played out, and just how hard Danny and Maggie worked on their relationship and solving the problems between them, logistical and otherwise.

From what he could see, Danny was a thirteen-year-old who couldn’t be trusted to attend school and not run the street.

Maggie was trying to work and support the two of them, in a job with horrible hours, and in his current state, Danny needed more—if not constant—supervision. He needed a parent.

Somehow in all that there needed to be a plan for their future together, or they would spend their future apart.

“Remember, Maggie, I have a vested interest in making sure that all the participants are successful. We have a good program here—but we’re under a lot of scrutiny from the state. I don’t want to give them any excuses to shut us down.”

“So you might lose your program, and I might lose custody of Danny.” Maggie took a deep breath. “Then we’d both better make Cowboy Quest a success.”

Chapter Three

Maggie tried to stay optimistic as she leaned back against the cushioned seat of the golf cart and watched the sun set over the rugged, snow-capped mountains in the distance. A sweet, unfamiliar heat washed over her. She was sure that it was caused by her new tour guide’s hard, muscular thigh pressed lightly against hers.

She enjoyed listening to Joe talk about his ranch. She could hear the pride in his voice when he pointed out which animal won Bull of the Year from the Professional Bull Riders Association and which ones were up and coming.

But she couldn’t forget how much power Joe had over her. With one report to the judge, she might lose Danny forever. And here they were, both fish out of water, trying to fit into a program that they didn’t have a clue about.

But as Joe said, it wasn’t about the livestock or the riding. That they could probably muddle through with a little luck and a lot of help. It was the bonding between her and Danny that was going to be the hardest. There was a lot of hurt between them. But she had faith in Danny. She’d loved him since he was born, and she still did. Somewhere in that teenage mess was the Danny who loved her back.

As they neared a hillside pasture, she could see the silhouettes of bulls grazing in the distance. Beautiful horses graced the corral; more were in a lower pasture.

“Would you like to see the barn?” he asked.

“Sure.” Actually, she really didn’t. She wanted to curl up somewhere and sleep. It had been a long traveling day.

He pulled up to the corral and several horses came to inspect them. He took a bag of sugar cubes from the glove compartment and handed some to her. “Keep your hand flat. You don’t want to lose any fingers.” He jumped out of the vehicle and led her into the barn.

Lights blazed inside. As Joe walked past the stalls, he called all the horses by name, and she petted them.

“You sure look at home in a barn, Maggie.”

“As it happens, I grew up on a dairy farm in northern New York.”

His eyes grew as wide as his belt buckle. “Well, I’ll be. And here I had you pegged as a bona fide city slicker.”

“Hang on. I am a city slicker. I’ve lived in Manhattan longer than I lived on my parents’ farm. Besides, I didn’t particularly like it. My sister, Liz, was the one who loved it.”

“And Danny is Liz’s son.”

“Yes.” Even though Liz had been gone for two years, Maggie missed her every day. Danny looked a lot like her.

“And you think you’ve failed Liz because Danny is in trouble,” Joe said, pausing with a bucket of water for the next horse in line.

“Was that in the probation report, too?”

He nodded. “It said something to the effect that you felt like you failed Liz because Danny was arrested.”

Maggie felt like she was under a microscope.

He was here to run Cowboy Quest—not to analyze her. She was here to save her nephew. End of story.

They got back into the golf cart. Ominous clouds had darkened the sky, and the breeze had grown rough and cool. “What’s Danny doing now?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Ronnie is giving him a tour like I’m giving you. If the other participants have arrived, they are all touring together.”

“Danny’s probably hungry,” Maggie said, her own stomach giving a little growl. “It’s been a long day, and he didn’t eat much.”

“He’ll be fine.” Joe checked his watch. “Dinner is in an hour.”

Just as they pulled up to the ranch house, the skies opened with a crack of thunder. Rain came down in a noisy torrent. They dashed inside. Joe lit a fire in the living room and they sat to warm themselves.

“You know a lot about me, Joe. Tell me more about yourself,” she said.

“There isn’t much to tell.” He shrugged. “I was a fairly mediocre student in high school. My parents weren’t around much then so I practically moved into Jake Dixon’s house. It was Mr. Dixon who suggested that I could work my ranch, expand my stock contracting business and still do something with my master’s in education. One day, I came up with the idea for Cowboy Quest.”

He paused and diverted his eyes, clearly uncomfortable talking about himself.

“Don’t stop,” Maggie urged.

“Jake Dixon, our pal Clint Scully and I all help out on Jake’s Gold Buckle Ranch. He runs several programs for kids during the summer, so Cowboy Quest fits right in. Mr. and Mrs. Dixon handle most of the administrative duties.”

“And you handle the program part,” Maggie stated.

He nodded. “The three of us go way back to Mountain Springs Grammar School. After high school, we rodeoed together for years. The only one still chasing rodeos is Clint.”

“So what does a stock contractor actually do?”

“I furnish rodeo stock for rodeos—steers, broncs, bulls, calves. I breed them, too—buy, sell, trade.”

“Sounds like hard work, raising all those animals.”

“I’m not afraid of hard work.” He smiled. “And that’s another component of the Cowboy Code. If we can get these boys up and working, they’ll be too tired to think of getting into trouble, and at the end of the day, they can take pride in what they’ve accomplished. I hope that learning the value of hard work will stay with them when they go back home.”

“If you can get them working.”

“Oh, I will. Starting with dinner tonight.” He tipped his hat, excused himself and added, “I’ll see you in a half hour.”

As Maggie walked to the bunkhouse, she caught the scent of horses again, heavy on the breeze.

She did some breathing exercises—she always did when she was nervous. Only a handful of people knew that she suffered from stage fright, but now she was suffering from horse fright. She’d been dreading tomorrow, but the sight of the horses reminded her: riding lessons tomorrow.

She told herself that it’d be okay. She’d seen horses before, pulling carriages around Central Park. The tourists petted, posed and took pictures with them and they were as still as statutes.

But the Silver River Ranch was totally different from New York.

Here there were real horses. Horses that she’d be riding…in a saddle…by herself. And they were tall. It was a long way to the ground if she fell.

Maggie paused to check her way. She’d forgotten how dark it could be at night in the country. There weren’t any streetlights, brightly illuminated office buildings or Broadway marquees to guide the way, and she could barely see the path in front of her. She stopped to let her eyes send a message to her brain, sorting out the shadows and shapes.

Then she made out the tall figure of Joe Watley approaching, carrying a flashlight. Relief washed over her as he called out.

“I thought this would help.” She heard a click, and he handed her a flashlight of her own. “Keep it while you’re here.”

“Thanks.”

The bunkhouse was aglow in the distance, and it looked warm and welcoming. She took another deep breath, and pushed thoughts of tomorrow aside.

“What’s for dinner?” she asked as they walked.

“Cookie’s mystery stew.”

“Shall I ask about the name, or don’t I want to know?”

“He makes it different each time. One of the cowboys called it that, and the name stuck. The meat he uses is a mystery, too.”

“Ouch.”

They both laughed, and Maggie warmed to his sense of humor. Yet being with Joe—the whole situation—made her jumpy. If they walked in together, it would be like admitting that he was spending extra time with her.

Sure enough, when they entered, they were greeted with a moment of hushed silence. Then the talking and frivolity began again in earnest.

She noticed Danny right away, along with the poke in the ribs that the big kid on his right gave him. Danny winced, and so did Maggie. She clamped her lips together and took a seat at the head of the table, next to Joe—the only two seats left.

Everyone seemed to have been waiting for her to arrive before they ate, and she vowed that she’d never be tardy again. She checked her watch—five after six. She was only five minutes late.

Joe cleared his throat. “Gentlemen and Maggie, let’s take a minute to reflect silently on the bounty of the meal and the opportunity to be in Cowboy Quest.” He bowed his head.

Emulating Joe, the cowboys removed their hats and put them over their hearts. It took a moment before the boys in the program decided what to do, but eventually they bowed their heads—everyone but Danny, the smallest kid in the program, and his newfound friend, the biggest kid in the program. They smirked.

Joe spoke quietly. “Heavenly Father, thank you for this food which we are about to eat, and may everyone around this table get what they can out of Cowboy Quest, and more. God bless us all and keep us safe. Amen.”

“Amen,” echoed most everyone around the table.

A warmth, like a plush blanket, enveloped her. She remembered sitting around her parents’ big oak table as they all bowed their heads to pray. As they ate, they’d discuss current events, school, the weather—anything and everything in between.

These days she always ate on the run—stopping at the deli next to her condo, or for Chinese take-out somewhere, or for a quick slice of pizza. Max’s delivered, so she’d arrange for Danny to have most of his meals from there.

She hired a housekeeper, a math and reading tutor and got him a membership to the gym down the street. They went to counselors. She did everything she possibly could to help Danny, but she still wished she could have given more of herself.

Now, even though there were two dozen other people at the table, she was sharing a meal with Danny for a change.

Speaking of meals, Cookie’s mystery meal was stew, and it was fabulous, loaded with carrots and potatoes.

Ronnie tapped on his coffee mug with a spoon. “Let’s all go around the table and introduce ourselves.”

After all the introductions were made, Maggie noticed that Danny and she were the only ones who came from the east coast. All the rest, including staff, were from either the west or southwest.

No surprise there.

Maggie found out that Danny’s new friend was named Brandon Avery and he was from Billings, Montana.

As she stifled a yawn, Joe stood again. “Since this was a long day of travel, everyone will help with the cleanup. The Cowboy Quest participants will hit the hay ahead of schedule tonight because tomorrow morning will come early, five-thirty, to be exact. We have stock to feed and water, stalls to muck out and then you all will be taking riding lessons after your school lessons. Let me stress once again that you’ll get out of the program what you put into it—so give it your all.”

“He’s getting free labor out of this. So, like, how many juvenile delinquents does it take to run a ranch?”

The guffaws and tittering washed over her like a tidal wave. She couldn’t believe Danny would be that rude.

“Danny, you shouldn’t—” Maggie began.

Joe held up a hand like a traffic cop, and she got his message: He was in charge.

“I’ve heard that before,” Joe said. “So I’m glad that you cleared the air, Dan. But if you really believe that I’m getting free labor out of this, well, then, I’d better fire all these cowboys, huh? After all, I won’t need them because I have the twelve of you.”

This time it was the cowboys who laughed and snickered. The boys looked somewhat awkward, as did Danny and his new friend.

Maggie checked her watch. Seven o’clock. If she went to bed at eight, she’d have over eight hours of sleep. That was definitely more than she got in a typical night.

She was exhausted. Danny looked dead on his feet, too.

There was no way that she was going to be late on her first day, even if she was scared out of her mind. No way.

“I’m going to walk Miss McIntyre to the ranch house,” Joe said. “Then I’ll be right back to help in the cleanup.”

She wondered if Joe had stressed that for the rest of the participants, or just for Danny.

Maggie sighed. In spite of the fact that Joe wanted to handle things, she had to find the time to talk to her nephew, to alleviate his concerns.

And make sure he didn’t blow their last chance.

Joe walked Maggie up the brick walkway to the main house, the glow of their flashlights combining to illuminate the way.

He’d had an enjoyable meal with everyone, but particularly Maggie. He’d even arranged to take her into Mountain Springs tomorrow for some real Western wear. She needed cowboy boots— real boots—not those fluff designer shoes she’d brought.

He’d already received a heads-up from Quint that Danny’s clothes weren’t proper for ranch work, either. They were okay for a gangster, but there’d be none of that for the young Daniel Turner.

“I’m sorry I jumped in earlier, Joe.”

“That’s okay. I’m sure it’s difficult to make the adjustment from aunt and primary caretaker to just one of the guys.”

“Yeah, it’s hard.” She shook her head. “As you can tell, Danny’s got a problem with peer pressure. He’ll say or do anything for a laugh.”

“I know. I’ve seen it time and time again. Give me and my staff a little credit, Maggie, and trust in Danny a little more.”

“I’ve trusted Danny in the past. You can see where it got me.”

“But today is a new day.”

She knew Joe was right. She had to back off and calm down.

But it was too darn difficult when she was so desperate to help Danny.

“I’m sure it’s much easier if there were two parents to help raise kids.” She sighed. “Are you married?”

He was quiet for a moment. “No, I’ve never been married. I was engaged once, but it didn’t work out.”

He took a breath. “Look, Maggie, I’ve volunteered for the programs at the Gold Buckle Ranch for eight years now. And, yeah, I have a degree, but what I also have is a clean slate and an unbiased point of view. I can look at things more objectively than you.”

She supposed he was right. “So what have you objectively figured out about me and Danny so far?”

“Well, right now, I’d point out that you aren’t going to be around to fight Danny’s battles all the time. He needs the skills to stand up to his peers.”

She hadn’t done a great job so far, but she had to perform eight shows a week. It was her job. She’d imposed on friends and sometimes hired the best people she could to keep an eye on Danny while she worked, but he still kept sneaking out on them, claiming that he didn’t need “no stinkin’ babysitter.” And that he wasn’t a baby.

“Okay, Joe. I’ll do it your way, and I’ll keep quiet, and let you handle things. But just be advised that being quiet is not one of my virtues.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence. At the house, Joe let Maggie open the door and turn on the lights.

“All okay?” he asked. She seemed a little nervous tonight. Maybe she just didn’t want to stay by herself in a strange house. He wished Aunt Betty hadn’t gone out of town. She could have kept Maggie company.

“I’m okay,” she said. “But it’s so quiet here. How am I ever going to sleep?”

“I can fix you a place in the barn if you’d like. It can get pretty noisy out there.” He winked.

“Uh…no…” She laughed. “But thanks anyway.”

Maggie looked so very…kissable. The dim hallway light made her golden hair shimmer. He longed to run his hand through her blond locks, to pull her to him….

A laugh from the bunkhouse brought him back to reality. What was he thinking? She was a participant in his program.

“Um…good night, Joe.”

“’Night, Maggie.” He headed down the path, then stopped. “The phone number to the bunkhouse is right by the phone. Call if you need anything—anything at all.”

He gritted his teeth. That sounded like a proposition, and he hadn’t meant that at all.

“I mean…uh…” He couldn’t think.

“I know what you mean, Joe. See you bright and early.”

She smiled, and the door closed.

He caught himself whistling as he walked to the bunkhouse. He hadn’t whistled in ages.

But sleep wouldn’t come. He kept thinking about Maggie, who had a wagonload of trouble she had to deal with. Her heaviest cargo was the smallest kid in Cowboy Quest.

Would he be able to help her?

Tossing and turning, he thought about his growing attraction to Maggie and how he had to resist. It would be unprofessional, and a huge complication.

He had a highly charged program to run, loaded with high-risk juveniles with emotional issues and one interesting woman who was constantly intruding on his thoughts.

How was he going to keep his mind on business?

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