Free The Western Dare (Harlequin Heartwarming) by Roz Denny Fox Page A

Maybe a couple others. You musta asked her. I sure didn’t tell her you wanted ’em.”
    “Th-thanks. Thank her.” Camp all but knocked the boy down grabbing for the papers. The top recipe she’d scribbled on the back of an envelope. How to make campfire coffee. In capital letters, Emily had written: GRIND COFFEE.
    Camp struck his forehead with a flat palm. At home he had a small electric grinder. He’d been so rattled at the time he bought supplies, he’d forgotten that he always ground his gourmet coffee beans before he poured them into his expensive, easy-to-use coffeemaker. So, grind them. But how? Tie the beans in a clean handkerchief and smack it hard with the flat of an ax? Okay. That’d work. Quickly he leafed through the remaining sheets. Soup, biscuits, corned beef hash were a few of the recipes he saw. “Tell your mom she’s saved my life...again,” he said, belatedly recalling the help Emily had given him with Brittany last night. Man, did he need these—even though he hated being called one of Emily’s strays. Was that how she saw him? The pitiful professor? His jaw tightened.
    “How’d she save your life before? And when?” In the manner of a young tough, the boy removed the old Saint Louis Cardinals baseball cap he wore and reset it on his head backward.
    Either Mark was deadpanning or dead serious. In the dim light, Camp couldn’t tell which. It didn’t much matter; he wasn’t about to explain the saga of Brittany. “That’s just a figure of speech, Mark. Your mom, ah, loaned me a flashlight.” Camp rubbed a hand gingerly over his stubbled jaw, congratulating himself on fast footwork. “It was after you and Megan had gone to bed. I never thought to buy a flashlight.”
    “Yeah, well she’s good at stuff like that. It’s what moms are for. I bet you wish you had one.”
    “I do. She and my dad live in Columbia. In fact, she’s keeping an eye on my house and taking care of my dog.”
    “I meant...I bet you wished you had one on this trip,” Mark snickered. “Megan told me how you took your sister’s dare. Not smart, dude. They’ll whip you.” The kid disappeared into the shadowy dawn, leaving Camp’s sputter hanging on the smoke-laden breeze.
    Why let a half-pint kid get his goat? This trip wasn’t a contest between him and the women. It never had been. Well, maybe that was how Sherry saw it. Surely Emily didn’t. Or was that why she ran hot and cold? Tonight when he collected the data sheets, he’d set the record straight. Right now he’d better scare up something to eat.
    Striking a match to the tented kindling, Camp blanked his mind, pulled out a couple of Emily’s recipes and went about gathering utensils.
    Again it seemed as if he was two steps behind everyone else. Emily and the teachers in the wagon behind her were cleaning up as he sat down to eat. So what? Everything had gone like clockwork today and he intended to enjoy every last morsel. His biscuits and fried potatoes looked perfect. Coffee had never smelled so good—even if he had ruined a brand-new monogrammed handkerchief. Part of a set his mother gave him for Christmas. Well, Mom would understand.
    Twice, he tried catching Emily’s eye to thank her personally for the recipes. She never once glanced his way. He paused, slathering honey on his first biscuit. Strange code Emily Benton lived by. It was all right to do a man favors, but not be his friend.
    Oh, well, to each his own. Her own, he amended, all but moaning after taking the first bite. Camp sneaked another peek in Emily’s direction. Couldn’t tell where she was. Uh-oh, why was Maizie Boone bearing down on him? He’d seen that look before—the day he showed up late. Camp couldn’t imagine what he’d done to displease her today. He wasn’t late...yet. Didn’t intend to be. So what had put a bee in her bonnet this time?
    The closer she came, the more evident it was that she had something serious on her mind. However, Camp didn’t care to be