Rodeo Daddy by B.J. Daniels

Author:B.J. Daniels [Daniels, B.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781488029714
Publisher: HQN Books
Published: 2002-06-30T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“HOW FAR IS IT to Kansas City?” Chelsea asked from her post in the motor home’s passenger seat.

Sam was seated at the dinette, buckled in with an array of books spread out on the table. Something to do with an earlier punishment.

Jack tossed Chelsea a map. “About five hundred miles. We average about fifty miles an hour in this rig. Math is your thing, right?”

It was a no brainer. “Ten hours.”

“Plus stops for gas. We should get in about eight in the morning. Maybe a little earlier depending on traffic.”

Gad. Chelsea opened the map, telling herself she’d known this wasn’t going to be easy. But she was with Jack.

She studied the map for a moment, watched for road signs and figured out they were on Interstate 35 headed north. In the middle of Kansas, they could catch Interstate 70 and head east to Kansas City. Got it. She refolded the map and wondered if she should mention to him that she’d never driven a motor home.

Probably not, considering he was in a pretty good mood and she definitely didn’t want to spoil it. That was one of the reasons she decided not to ask him just now about his fight with Ray Dale ten years ago. She also didn’t want to bring it up in front of Sam.

“You can get some sleep if you want,” Jack said when the lights of Dallas disappeared behind them.

He hadn’t ordered her to sleep. In fact, he hadn’t ordered her to do anything for quite a few hours now. She wondered what had changed. Something. She could feel it, a softness in him toward her. And all because of some ruined enchiladas?

She tried to remember the last time she’d driven all night. No wonder Ace had bought a plane.

“I picked us up some dinner at that last gas station,” Jack said. “Help yourself.”

She lifted the bag from the floor between the seats, almost afraid to look inside.

“You’re not a vegetarian, are you?” he asked, as if suddenly worried.

“I live on a beef ranch,” she said. “Remember?”

She’d meant it to be funny, but from the face he made, it was obvious he didn’t appreciate the humor.

Inside the bag, she found a box containing roast chicken, Caesar salad and biscuits with butter and honey.

Sam eyed the food, then her father. “Roast chicken?” she asked, reading the side of the box. “Where is the fried chicken and potato salad?”

Jack looked embarrassed. “I was just trying to get something a little different.”

Neither Sam nor Chelsea believed that. He’d tried to get something he thought Chelsea would like. She was so touched she decided to try to sleep after she ate, just to please him. Sam was not pleased, though.

“How’s the homework coming?” Jack asked her once dinner was over. Unlike Chelsea, he didn’t seem to have any trouble driving and eating, even though the lumbering box of a vehicle rocked wildly at the slightest bump in the road. “Sam?”

Chelsea glanced back to see the girl make a face at her father, one she obviously knew he couldn’t see.

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