Читать книгу The Cowboy's Ready-Made Family - Linda Ford - Страница 11
ОглавлениеThe next morning Johnny and Levi accompanied Tanner to help move the horses. Pa had sent three of the hired cowboys to assist.
They rode directly toward the canyon where the horses were penned.
Tanner reined in at the hill closest to the Collins farm. “I’ll go warn the family to stay out of the way so they don’t spook the horses.”
His brothers waved him away and he turned Scout toward the farm.
Frank and Robbie saw him coming and raced down the trail to greet him, yelling about the horses.
Smiling, he waited for them to reach him. “What’s all the noise for?”
Frank caught his breath. “You’re bringing the horses here today?”
“That’s my plan.”
“My pa would be glad.”
“Then I am, too.” He perceived he and Frank shared something special—a desire to please a dead parent.
The two boys trotted by his side as he rode into the yard.
“Where’s your aunt? I need to talk to her.” He wished he could avoid it. All her fine talk yesterday of accepting a man based on his conduct sounded pure and sweet, but he’d heard it before—specifically from Miss Jenny Rosneau—and he knew untested words had no substance to them.
“In the house,” Frank said.
“Auntie Susanne,” Robbie yelled loud enough to make Scout snort in surprise.
Susanne came to the door, a kitchen towel in her hands. She smiled, her eyes catching the early-morning sun. “Yes, Robbie?”
Tanner swung down. “Morning, ma’am.” She stood framed in the doorway, apparently happy with whatever she was doing.
As her gaze shifted from Robbie to him, the light faded and her smile flattened. Her smile had not been for him. That was obvious.
He hadn’t expected otherwise. “Came to say we’re bringing the horses over this morning. Won’t take anything to spook them, so maybe you and the children could stay inside until we have them penned.”
She nodded. “I understand.”
He stood there captured by the moment and a dozen thoughts that didn’t make sense, most especially that something about Susanne made him think of his ma. They couldn’t be any more different. Ma was bronzed, while Susanne’s skin glowed like fine porcelain. He shifted his gaze so he could think more clearly. “I’ll see to things.”
“Thank you.”
Her words jerked his attention back to her. “For what?”
She gave a little shrug. “For letting me know.”
“You’re welcome.” He trotted away while he could still think. The two boys followed as he led the cow out to the far corner of the pasture and tethered her securely. They stayed right with him as he dragged the water trough out to the cow and they helped him carry water to fill it. They talked as he scoured the yard, removing anything that might spook the nervous horses. Or rather, they asked questions that he did his best to answer.
“How many horses you bringing?” Frank asked.
“Ten,” Tanner said.
“You got lots of help? My pa said getting them into the corrals would be the tricky part.”
“That’s a fact.” He told the boys how many men were with him.
“We could help,” Robbie said.
Tanner stopped cleaning up objects in the yard—some branches, a pitchfork, a scrap of rag—and looked into the younger boy’s eyes. “Robbie, the best way you can help is to stay inside until we have them in the corrals. Otherwise, you might frighten them. Think you can do that?” He didn’t mention that Robbie might be trampled. Tanner’s fists curled at the idea.
Robbie nodded.
Tanner gave the yard a sweeping glance. He could see nothing more that would alarm a wild animal. He turned his attention to the corrals. Jim Collins knew what he was doing when he built them. The valley ran from the box canyon downward to the yard, narrowing and providing a natural crowding passageway. By swinging the set of gates outward Tanner created an alleyway that would funnel the horses into the big pen. Even if the animals wanted to run, the men would have no trouble keeping them contained.
Satisfied, he spoke to the boys. “It’s time. Go on inside.”
As the boys went toward the house, he swung to Scout’s back and rode up to join the others. Tanner opened the barricade and the men slowly edged the animals out of the enclosure and down the coulee.
The animals snorted and neighed but moved easily along the narrow valley. At the yard they balked for a moment but the men had them surrounded and the only direction for the horses to go was into the big holding pen.
Tanner and Johnny both dismounted and closed the gates.
The men gathered round the corrals and admired the milling horses for a few moments before Big Sam’s three cowboys rode away on the heels of Tanner’s thank-yous.
“Those three are off Ma’s mare, if I don’t miss my guess,” Johnny said as he eyed the horses.
“I’m thinking those two, as well.” Tanner pointed out the two he meant.
“I barely remember Ma’s mare,” Levi said as he joined them.
Tanner grinned at his younger brother. “You were just a tadpole.”
“I was five.”
“I’m five, too,” said a little voice behind them, and all three jerked about.
Tanner’s heart raced up his throat when he saw Robbie. He thought he’d made himself clear about staying indoors. Thought the boy understood. “Does your aunt know you’re here?”
“Why? You only said we had to stay in until you had the horses in the corrals.” He climbed the fence to look at the herd. “Say. They’re even better-looking than I recall.”
Johnny and Levi grinned at each other.
“Robbie, you get back here!”
They all turned toward Susanne, silhouetted in the doorway.
Her displeasure blared like a trumpet. Did she not want the boy around the horses...or the three half-breed men? Only one way to test her. “It’s okay now,” he called. “Why not let the children come and see them?”
She stared at him, her expression so full of denial he knew what she would say even before she opened her mouth. “Very well.” Susanne turned to the children.
His brain bucked. He’d expected her to refuse. But, of course, she couldn’t deny the children this little treat.
Frank was halfway across the yard before she finished speaking.
The girls followed their brother more slowly, perhaps as uncertain as they were curious.
Susanne remained in the doorway.
“That’s the aunt?” Levi said.
“I thought she’d be old,” Johnny added. “Now I understand why you’re willing to turn your hand to farming.”
“For the use of the corrals,” Tanner growled.
“You want to see them, too, miss?” Johnny said to Susanne, sparing Tanner a look that said far more than he’d dare speak aloud. Why are you being rude to her? The horses are in her yard. She’ll want to look at them.
Johnny had forgotten to take into consideration a simple fact. Susanne was white as white could get—wheat-colored hair, sky-colored eyes and skin like china.
Tanner was clearly a half-breed with black hair, black eyes and dark skin.
It wasn’t rudeness that kept him from speaking. It was consideration for her situation. And yes, a desire to avoid the hurtful comments he expected to hear.
He’d best keep his distance from this woman, as she’d no doubt do with him.
“I’d like to see them.” She pulled the door closed behind her and started toward them.
Tanner was too stunned to even think.
* * *
Three pairs of eyes watched Susanne as she crossed the yard. Her world had been shaken up by the pounding of horse hooves as the herd had raced into the corrals. The animals were majestic and her heart thrilled to watch them even as her mouth went dry. What had she done, allowing such wild, powerful animals into the yard? Bad enough she’d agreed to let Tanner plant her crop, but these horses threatened the safety of the children.
As she neared them, her mind filled her with a thousand uncertainties. This was what Jim had planned. Did allowing Tanner to use the corrals fulfill her brother’s dream or mock it?
Would the children be hurt? If not by the horses, then by their big-eyed admiration of Tanner, which they made no attempt to disguise.
Knowing how much the wild horses had meant to Jim, she couldn’t resist letting the children see them more closely or refuse the invitation to see them herself. She’d warn the children to stay away from the animals after they’d had their look.
The three men smiled at her approach, setting her nerves into an anxious twitch. What did they want? Worse, why had she agreed to something that seemed to give them the right to ride into her yard without invitation?
Tanner stepped forward. “Miss Collins, might I introduce my brothers, Johnny and Levi.”
She stilled her nervousness. Never show fear. Never show emotion of any sort.
The men were clearly related though vastly different. Johnny wasn’t as dark as Tanner and dressed like a well-heeled cowboy with crisp new-looking jeans and clean shirt. Levi was slighter than his brothers and taller. He had a cocky bearing about him. She couldn’t quite say how she came to that conclusion. Maybe it was the way he stood with his legs apart and his fingers jammed into the front pockets of his jeans. Or maybe the way he quirked his eyebrows when he greeted her with a smile.
“What do you think of the horses?” Tanner made space for her beside him at the corral fence.
She hesitated but curiosity overcame her and she stepped up on a plank as far from him as she could get and still see. “They’re beautiful.”
Beside her, Tanner murmured, “They truly are.” His voice rang with awe.
She understood his emotion. The animals held their heads and tails proudly. One kicked up her hind legs. Susanne studied them all and picked out the one she admired the most. “That’s the best-looking one.” She pointed to a bay with a white blaze.
Tanner jerked about to stare at her. “You picked out the dominant mare. She’s the leader of the pack. Once I can handle her, the others will be easier.”
“Good eye,” Levi said.
“Thanks.” Susanne thought it best to keep to herself the fact she was a town girl and knew nothing about horses except what looked nice.
The children all admired the horses, as well.
“They are real pretty,” Janie said. “Especially that one.” She pointed. “Her name is Pretty Lady.”
No one disputed her announcement.
“My pa would have been proud,” Frank said, his voice a little uncertain.
Tanner patted his back, a manly gesture. “Your pa built a fine set of corrals and I’m honored to be able to use them.”
Frank nodded.
Robbie, not to be outdone, added, “Pa was a good builder.”
The men all agreed.
Levi backed away from the fence first. “Guess we better get back before Pa comes looking for us.” He said it with so much regret that Susanne chuckled.
“He’ll have work for us,” he added.
Johnny sighed. “Only Tanner here is getting the summer off to pursue his own interests.”
“I’m the oldest,” Tanner said, as if to defend himself. “It’s time for me to try my hand at other things.”
Johnny draped an arm across Tanner’s shoulders. “Yeah, I know.”
Johnny and Levi ambled back to their horses. Tanner followed his brothers and mounted his, as well.
The children waved to them as they rode away.
Susanne stared after them, a confusion of ideas, regrets and if-onlys filling her head.
If only Jim hadn’t died. If only she didn’t need help to run the farm. If only she didn’t find it so hard to accept help even on fair terms. Then perhaps she could let herself enjoy having visitors, seeing the horses in the corrals, even letting the children befriend Tanner.
But if-onlys were but vapor in the sun, disappearing into the air.
It was time for dinner and she’d prepared nothing. Good thing they all loved fried eggs and potatoes. Again, she realized how little time she spent on household duties. Again, too, she thought of how displeased Aunt Ada would be.
As she made the simple meal she realized how often she thought of Aunt Ada as she worked. Would there ever come a day when she didn’t measure every decision, every activity, against her aunt’s reaction?
The children came at her call and gathered round the table. She prayed and then the children dug in.
“I’m going to watch and learn everything I can,” Frank said. “Maybe someday I can be like my pa.”
Susanne’s chest muscles clenched. She must make it clear that the children had to stay away from the horses, but first, she had to reassure Frank. She squeezed his shoulder. “You remind me of him already. He’d be very proud.”
Frank looked pleased.
If only she didn’t have to tell him the rest. “Children, I want you to listen to me.” She leaned forward, waited until she had the attention of all four. “Those horses are wild and unpredictable. Dangerous, even. I want you to stay away from them. I have only allowed them here because Tanner said he would put in the crop in exchange for using the corrals.”
Frank’s jaw tightened. “Pa said I could help with the horses.”
“These aren’t your pa’s animals. Tanner isn’t used to watching out for children. Frank, I’m sorry, but I must insist you stay away from them.”
Frank looked straight into her eyes. He didn’t speak a word but he didn’t need to. She knew he did not agree with her decision.
Would he disobey her?
Liz leaned forward. “Auntie Susanne, maybe we can invite them to share a meal with us. It would be the neighborly thing to do. I could help you make something.”
Susanne’s shoulders sank. She could warn Frank about the horses, but how did she warn Liz about the dangers of giving too much of her heart to those men?
“I really like that vegetable barley soup you make,” Liz continued. “Maybe we could make that for them.”
Susanne tried to redirect her. “Why don’t we make some for supper?”
Janie got a faraway look in her eyes, not unusual for the child. “Mr. Tanner is the best-looking one of his brothers, isn’t he?”
It felt as if someone had kicked Susanne in the middle of her chest. She struggled to get in enough air to speak. She’d seen the adoration in Janie’s eyes and been concerned she’d develop a fondness for Tanner. But she hadn’t expected it to occur so soon. How was she to nip this in the bud without hurting the child?
She reached for Janie’s hand. “Honey, it doesn’t matter if he’s good-looking or not. What matters about a man is whether he is honorable and trustworthy. We don’t know if that is the case with Mr. Tanner. Please keep that in mind.”
Janie’s mouth pressed into a defiant line. She blinked twice then sucked in air. “He is so. Why don’t you believe it?”
Susanne knew the futility of trying to reason with a stubborn six-year-old. “Maybe he is. Maybe he isn’t. Only time will tell.”
Janie crossed her arms over her chest. “I know it already.”
Susanne sighed. Her agreement with Tanner might become a bigger problem than she could have anticipated.
Robbie pushed away his fork with a clatter. “I’m going to ask him if I can ride his horse.”
Alarm bells clanged in Susanne’s brain. Had he not listened to a word she’d said? “Robbie, you’ll do no such thing. Those horses are wild and dangerous. You stay away from them, you hear?”
Robbie gave her a look of surprise. “Auntie Susanne, I only meant Scout, the horse he rides all the time.”
Her breath whooshed out. “Still, you shouldn’t bother the man.” Not that he was around to bother. He’d been quick enough to take advantage of his side of their agreement, but then he’d left once his horses were in the corrals. When did he plan to plow her field?
They finished the meal and as they cleaned up, she heard a horse ride into the yard. The children crowded to the window.
“It’s Mr. Tanner. He brought Pa’s horse in.”
Susanne joined them at the window. He had indeed brought in old Pat, the plow horse. She had been trying for days to drum up the nerve to bring the big animal in from the field. Frank insisted the horse was as gentle as a kitten, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to believe it. He was far too big to be compared to a kitten.
Tanner waved at them and she ducked back. She didn’t want him to think she watched him. If he’d noticed her, she hoped he’d thought she was eager to see her side of the agreement fulfilled. Indeed, it was the truth.
“He’s coming to the door,” Janie said, and rushed to open it for him.
“Janie, wait.” The child ran headlong into danger. She trusted strangers, expected nothing but kindness. Not that Susanne could fault Jim for teaching the children to think the best of everyone. Too bad life would teach them otherwise.
Janie opened the door. “Hello, Mr. Tanner.”
“Hello, little miss. What a nice smile.”
Janie about melted at his feet.
Susanne hurried to the door to rescue Janie. She needed to warn the man to be careful of the child’s tender heart.
“Ma’am, before I start on the crop planting, I figure to plow a vegetable garden for you today. I see the fences for a spot, but do you want to show me your preferences? Maybe tell me how big you want it, and what direction you want the rows?”
She couldn’t keep up with his questions. Plow the vegetable garden? This was not part of their agreement.
A war raged within her. The voices of Aunt Ada, Mr. Befus, Alfred Morris and even her own battled against the necessity of feeding four hungry mouths.
She looked at the children clustered around her.
“If you don’t mind?” His voice carried a note of caution.
Necessity won. “Not at all.”
He held the door open and she stepped out to stand at his side. Then she realized she’d forgotten the children. “Come along.”
They followed eagerly. Every step took her further into her fears.
He led the way to the garden, measuring his steps so she walked at his side. The children ran ahead, scrambled over the garden fence and began chasing each other through the dry, dusty weeds. Their laughter and screams filled the air and made her smile despite the tension crackling along her spine.
Tanner chuckled. “Nice to see them enjoying themselves. Reminds me of me and my brothers when we were young.”
They reached the garden gate and paused.
A hundred old memories flooded her mind. “I remember helping my mama plant her garden.” She sucked in air. “Before she died.”
“Your mother is dead? I’m sorry.”
She kept her attention on the crop of weeds before her. “Both my parents drowned when I was twelve. A flash flood.” She hoped her voice remained flat and emotionless though her insides ached with the memory. She couldn’t stop the shudder that rocked her shoulders.
“I was seven when my ma died. Her name was Seena. I still miss her.” His voice deepened and she understood he fought the same pain she did.
“I guess the missing never goes away.” She looked at him.
He looked at her, sharing—at least, in her mind—a common bond of loss. His dark eyes held a world of sorrow and sympathy that called to her lonely heart. The idea made her insides feel they could break into a thousand pieces with the slightest jar.
“Auntie Susanne, look at me,” Janie called, saving her from her silly thoughts. Lonely heart, indeed. She’d never be lonely with four children to raise. “I’m a queen.” Janie had woven some kind of vine into a coronet on her head.
“You sure are,” Susanne said, her voice surprisingly calm.
“Do I look nice, Mr. Tanner?” the child asked.
“Just like a queen.” He chuckled as he turned to Susanne. “I guess these kids keep you on your toes.”
“I admit I’m never bored. In fact, I feel bad that I’m so busy I don’t get a chance to do special things with them.”
“Maybe you’ll be less busy now that I’m here to help.”
She wished he hadn’t reminded her of the situation. Her nerves twitched. Accepting help equaled obligation and losing the freedom to make her own choices. It allowed someone to demand something in return. Something she couldn’t or didn’t want to give.
Now was the time to insist on boundaries around the children. But before she could speak, he opened the gate and ushered her through. “Show me what you want.” He crossed his arms and waited.
She’d have that discussion later, after the garden had been worked. The children and their needs must come first.
She’d walked as far as the fence several times, planning how to plant the garden if she ever got the ground tilled. She’d even started digging it with a spade but made little progress. The garden spot had seemed as big as the oat field when she’d turned over one clod at a time. She’d not refuse his help if it meant providing for the children.
“If you wouldn’t mind, you can plow the entire area and run the rows this way.” She indicated the direction with a wave of her hand.
“It will be ready in a couple of hours. You go prepare your seeds while I take care of it.”
She hustled back to the house as her inner war continued. Her vows, her fear and caution against the pressing needs of the farm.
Her throat burned knowing she had little choice but to accept his help. But she would not be obligated. Somehow she had to make that clear to him.
She lifted the cellar lid and climbed down the ladder to get the box of seeds she’d stored there, and brought them up. In addition, for weeks she’d been saving the eyes from the potatoes as she peeled them and storing them in a bucket.
She fairly danced as she organized the lot. The garden would be planted today. With God’s good blessing she would have food to feed the children through the winter.
She wanted to monitor Tanner’s progress without appearing to be watching him, so she took the seeds to the edge of the garden.
He followed after the horse and plow, the reins loose in his hands. Pat appeared happy to be working, plodding along at a moderate pace. Did horses express emotions? Tanner grinned and waved. Seemed he was happy, too.
The idea should put her at ease, but it had quite the opposite effect.
Aunt Ada would act as if she enjoyed something only to turn on Susanne with sudden criticism and harshness, stealing away any idea that her aunt had been pleased in the least.
Susanne hurried away to get a hoe, a rake, twine and stakes.
When she returned, Tanner had his back to her as he plowed the other direction and she felt free to watch. There was something about his posture that suggested he was relaxed. Could it be true that he enjoyed this task? Would that make him less demanding of repayment? He was using the corrals. Would that be enough?
He finished plowing the garden and guided Pat back to the yard.
Susanne grabbed the rake intending to smooth the furrows.
“No need to do that,” Tanner said. “I’ll be right back.” He drove the horse to the barn and unhooked the plow, then backed Pat to another implement. In minutes he drove the horse across the yard dragging harrows that lifted a cloud of dust in their wake.
“I didn’t even know they were in there,” she said.
“They were kind of buried in the grass.” He returned to the garden. The children chased after the harrows. They’d soon be dirty from head to toe, but she didn’t have the heart to call them away. They were enjoying themselves far too much.
Tanner glanced over his shoulder, saw them playing in the dirt and laughed. He turned to Susanne and called, “There’s nothing sweeter than the smell of freshly turned soil.” His smile faded. “Except maybe the smell of sage and pine.” He looked at the mountains for a moment before he returned his attention to the garden.
She leaned on the garden fence. If only she could enjoy watching the land being prepared for planting, but it was impossible. Her gaze drifted again and again to the man doing the work. His muscles bulged beneath the fabric of his shirt, emphasizing his strength. He stopped, wiped his brow with a handkerchief and rolled his sleeves to his elbows, exposing bronze skin the color of an old penny. Jim had told her the Harding boys’ mother had been a full-blooded Indian. She knew only fragments of the story. Just enough to know the woman had been injured and rescued by Tanner’s father. It seemed very romantic and caring.
Which meant nothing in the scheme of things. All that mattered to her was providing for and protecting these children. And her own heart.
Tanner turned the horse and harrows around and faced her. Their gazes caught. She couldn’t pull from his look. Couldn’t draw breath. Couldn’t make her brain work. The children played, their happy sounds but a melody in the background.
He tipped his head slightly and drove the horse from the garden.
She breathed again and sagged against the fence, feeling as if her protective walls had been threatened.
His footsteps thudded across the yard and she jerked to attention and gathered up the twine, but before she could pick up the stakes, he did. He reached for the twine and she relinquished it without a thought.
Sucking in a deep breath, she told herself to refuse his help. But, while she gathered her thoughts, he trotted to the garden and drove the stake in on one end, affixed the twine and hurried down the length to drive in the second stake, pulling the line taut.
He returned and picked up the hoe.
He meant to help plant the garden.
“You don’t have to do this. I can manage.”
He stopped. The air stilled and the children grew quiet. “Do you object?” Something in his voice made her pause and consider her answer. It wasn’t exactly fear she heard; she was quite certain Tanner would never admit fear. Did he think she objected on the basis of his mixed heritage? She’d already informed him it was the least of her concerns.
As she’d often said, actions proved one’s words.
She had to prove her words by her actions, as well.
“I have no objection.” She tried unsuccessfully to quell the turmoil in her heart.
She prayed she wouldn’t live to regret this arrangement.
