100% Pure Cowboy by Cathleen Galitz Page B

also for the modern man leading fiftysome girls through the corridor of the past with a firm hand and a smile that as Mollie so succinctly put it “could charm the rattles out of a snake.”
    Splashing through ankle-deep water in the middle of the open plains was bizarre. It was interesting to read in Matty O’Shaw’s diary how the water shaded by the long grasses of the open prairie froze in winter and provided the pioneers into late spring with one to two foot chunks of a most precious commodity—ice.
    Crossing the ice slough gave Danielle a false sense of well-being. When they once again came upon the Sweetwater River, her confidence deflated like a balloon with a slow leak. To reach the convergence of the Oregon, California, and Mormon Trails, they would have to cross the Sweetwater here. Due to an unusually wet spring, the water was high. Churning water surged around and over boulders that would surely prove treacherous to anyone who lost their footing. Danielle stood on the bank and stared fretfully at the swirling chaos. The dog paddle she had displayed for Cody the other night was the height of her swimming ability, and she had no desire to exhibit it for the rest of the wagon train. The fast-running current terrified her.
    Without a bridge in sight, she questioned the wisdom of fording such a dangerous crossing. If he knew she was afraid, Danielle was certain that Cody would lampoon her unmercifully. Swallowing her apprehension like a bitter pill, she muttered the now-familiar phrase to herself, “Cowboy up!”
    She was relieved to see Cody direct the wagon train down the river a ways to a bend where the water was slower and more shallow.
    â€œWe’ll cross here,” he said as nonchalantly as if he were picking out a restaurant for the evening.
    When Mollie volunteered to be the first to ford the river, Cody couldn’t disguise the concern in his eyes. A flash of pain crossed his bright irises as he recalled the freak accident that had claimed Rachael’s life. The fear of losing his daughter to a similar trick of fate made him all the more protective of her. Just the other day Mollie accused him of trying to raise her in a bubble. Though he assured her that wasn’t the case, Cody was forever pledged to do everything in his power to protect his daughter from harm.
    Cody’s knuckles turned white against the rein he had subconsciously wrapped too tightly around his left hand.
    Damn it all, why did Mollie have to be such a confounded tomboy? She was certain to take offense if he insisted on driving the wagon across himself. Such an act on his part was sure to manifest itself into another long, drawn out “discussion” about why he wouldn’t let her start rodeoing.
    â€œYou take it real slow and easy. No showing off,” he said at length. Leaning out of the saddle, he reached over and gave her a kiss on the forehead.
    The gesture was so sweet, so automatic, that Danielle’s heart bumped against her chest. Whatever else she thought about Cody, there was no doubt he was a kind and loving father.
    â€œHaw!” Mollie called in a voice that cracked the air like a bullwhip. She gathered both reins in one hand and flicked a light whip to the horses’ flanks. With a slow, easy lurch, the wagon crept toward the river. As they stepped forward into the current, the wagon rocked unsteadily, and Danielle felt her breath catch. In a very short time she had come to care deeply for the little girl who sneaked her both candy bars and encouraging words along the trail.
    If anything happens to her...
    Danielle couldn’t even think about it. Losing Mollie would be like losing the sunshine. The lead horse stumbled, almost pitching their ponytailed driver headlong into the river. Danielle’s stomach leaped to her throat.
    A deft maneuver on Mollie’s part brought the horse back into its traces. Just as quickly as the wagon had entered the current it