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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 СКАЧАТЬ