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galvanized her sense of defiance.
    Tightening her grip on her seat, Danielle insisted, “One rider more or less won’t make any difference.”
    Cody was tempted to let this airhead go right ahead and bruise that lovely bottom of hers till it was black and blue bouncing up and down on that hard buckboard seat, but ultimately he decided not to bother with a rebuttal.
    â€œHave it your way, then,” he said, searching the depths of her eyes as if combing the ocean floor for lost treasure. Gently he brushed a wayward curl back from her forehead.
    Sucker-punched by the heat that settled in her stomach, Danielle released her grip on her seat to swat at his hand. He took the opportunity to grab her around the middle and sling her over his shoulder like a sack of feed. His touch burned right through the thin material of her dress. Feeling her breasts pressed against his well-muscled back, Danielle pushed herself away and pummeled him with her fists.
    Impervious to the fury raining upon his back, Cody hopped down off the wagon and set her roughly on her feet. Though her full height just grazed his chin, Danielle was nonetheless formidable with her eyes blazing and arms akimbo.
    Taking a wide-legged stance, he announced breezily, “Now that the front of this rig is in order, let’s have a look at the back.”
    â€œI intend to make a formal complaint to your superiors when this trip is over!” A fulminating glare accompanied Danielle’s announcement.
    The thought of anyone trying to throw him off his own land almost made Cody laugh out loud. Remembering how thrilled his foreman had been to find out that Mollie and her grandmother had railroaded him into taking his place on this nutty Western safari, Cody met that threat head-on.
    â€œYou be sure to do that,” he said, turning to walk to the back of the wagon.
    A moment later a string of expletives exploded from beneath the heavy sack canvas. “Where in the hell do you think you’re going, lady? The Sagebrush Hilton?”
    Dodging a flying hair-blower, Danielle did her best to ignore the look of utter disbelief the wagon master wore as he turned to face her.
    â€œWhoever packed this thing must not have the sense God gave a gnat.”
    Danielle stiffened at the unflattering description as she helplessly watched him pile the luggage from the back of the wagon onto the ground. Gesturing to the modern conveniences spilling out of the bags with a dismissive air, he inquired, “Do you really think there are plug-ins along the Oregon Trail? Do you think the coyotes care whether you’re wearing makeup or not? If you do, I’d suggest that you load Troop Beverly Hills up right now and spare us both two long weeks of agony. This trip is dangerous enough, and I can’t be bothered playing nursemaid to a wagonload of spoiled, rotten brats who have no business being on the open range!”
    Danielle glared at him as if she were seeing the devil himself up close and personal. When she spoke, her words dripped honeyed sarcasm. “You obviously need a refresher course in geography. The last time I checked Denver, Colorado is a ‘fur’ piece from Beverly Hills, ‘Californy.’ And, for your information, I wouldn’t take your help if you tied a pink bow around that fat cowboy hat of yours and begged me!”
    What if I tied it somewhere else? Cody was tempted to ask but felt certain that that, too, fell well outside the realm of political correctness. Leave it to some city slicker to come marching into camp self-righteously spouting political platitudes about equal treatment of the sexes while simultaneously expecting to be treated like the Queen of Sheba.
    It mattered little to Danielle that not ten minutes earlier she had entertained the exact same thoughts about the girls’ extra baggage. Right now all she wanted was to wipe that damned grin right off her wagon master’s smug face.
    With a start,