The Cowboy's Ready-Made Family

by Linda Ford

  “Frank,” Susanne scolded. “You shouldn’t ask such a question.”

  Mr. Harding chuckled. “It’s okay. I’m half Indian, half white.”

  “He gots wild horses in a pen,” Robbie said with some importance.

  “I’m Frank.” The boy held his hand out for a proper introduction.

  Mr. Harding swung out of his saddle with more ease than most men. Certainly with more ease than Alfred Morris, who struggled to get in and out of the saddle.

  Mr. Harding took Frank’s hand. “Pleased to meet you, neighbor.”

  Frank’s chest swelled at the greeting. “You, too, Mr. Harding.”

  “Prefer you call me Tanner. Mr. Harding is my pa.” He let his gaze touch each of them.

  That left Susanne little option but to introduce herself and the others. “I’m Susanne Collins. You’ve met my nephews. These are my nieces, Liz and Janie.”

  He doffed his hat at the girls and they giggled.

  “Ma’am.” He brought his dark eyes back to Susanne. “I know where your milk cow is. I can bring her in if you like.”

  She hesitated. She didn’t like to be owing to anyone. She’d learned that lesson, all right.

  “I looked everywhere and couldn’t find her,” Frank said, half-apologetic.

  “She’s way on the other side of the trees.” Tanner continued to look at Susanne, awaiting her answer.

  She wanted to say no but how long would it take to tramp out and persuade Daisy to return to the pasture next to the barn? She wouldn’t be comfortable leaving the children while she went, and it would take all day if she took them with her. Which left her with only one option.

  Relying on this man—any man—made her shudder. She remembered when she’d learned that lesson firsthand. Four years ago, when Susanne was sixteen, Mr. Befus had offered to take Susanne off Aunt Ada’s hands. Had even offered a nice sum of money. Susanne still got angry thinking her aunt had been prepared to sell her like so much merchandise. When Susanne had protested, Aunt Ada had reminded her she had no right to say no. “You are totally dependent on the goodwill of others and if Mr. Befus sees fit to offer you a home, you best accept.” Reasoning a home with someone who wanted her would be better than staying with Aunt Ada who clearly didn’t, Susanne had agreed to the arrangement.

  Aunt Ada had left him alone with Susanne at his request. “I need to know what I’m getting in this bargain,” he’d said. As soon as the door closed behind Aunt Ada, he’d grabbed Susanne and started to paw her. Her skin crawled at the memory.

  “I’ll not marry you until I know you’ll be able to pay me back properly.”

  She’d fought him.

  “You owe me, you little wildcat.”

  She’d broken free and locked herself in the bedroom, refusing to come out until Aunt Ada promised she wouldn’t have to go with the man.

  The next day she’d sent Jim a letter. It had taken two more years for him to invite her to join him. He’d said he always meant to get back to her, but he got busy with his family and working on the farm. She would have left Aunt Ada’s but without Jim’s help and without a penny to her name, she would simply be throwing herself from one situation to another. Better the one she knew and understood.

  Ever since then she’d been leery of men offering any form of help, and vowed she would never marry and owe a man the right to do to her as he wished.

  But at this moment she had no other recourse.

  “If you don’t mind bringing her back.” She hoped his offer was only a neighborly gesture and he wouldn’t demand repayment.

  “Not at all.” He swung back onto the saddle without using the stirrups and reined about to trot from the yard.

  She stared after him, at a loss to know what to think. She couldn’t owe him for fear he’d demand repayment, but what could she do in return? Still, first things first. She turned to the children. “Let’s get the chickens back in.” And then she absolutely must figure out how to get the field plowed.

  Fifteen minutes later and a generous amount of oats thrown into the pen, the chickens were in and the gate closed.

  Two minutes afterward, three were out again, having found a hole in the fence. Susanne closed her eyes and prayed for a healthy dose of patience. “Frank, you stand at the hole and keep any more from getting out. I’ll find something to fix it with. You others, see if you can catch those hens.”

  She was knee-deep in the bits and pieces of Jim’s supplies in the corner room of the barn when the gentle moo of the cow jerked her about. “So you decided to come home, did you? You’re more bother than you’re worth.”

  Tanner rode in behind the cow, ducking through the open door just in time to catch her talking to the cow.

  For a moment, her embarrassment made it impossible to speak.

  “She got out through a big hole in the pasture fence,” he said, without any sign of amusement or censure, which eased her fractured feelings.

  “I know. The fences all need repairing. I’m getting it done as fast as I can.” If she wrote down everything that needed doing around here it would require several pieces of paper. She was drowning in repairs. “Thanks for bringing the cow back.”

  He nodded. “You’re welcome. Ma’am, I could fix that fence for you. Wouldn’t take but a minute.”

  Her insides twisted with protest. It wasn’t as if she didn’t need help. As Alfred Morris pointed out regularly, anyone could see she wasn’t keeping up with the workload, but help came with a price. The lesson had been drilled into her day after day by Aunt Ada. “No, thank you. I have no wish to be under obligation to you.”

  His expression hardened. “Ma’am, you aren’t the first, nor will you be the last, to want me off their place because I’m half-Indian.” He backed his horse out of the barn.

  She climbed over the pieces of wood and wire at her feet as fast as she could and ran after him. “It has nothing to do with your heritage,” she called.

  But he rode away without a backward glance.

  She pressed her hand to her forehead. The last thing she wanted was to offend him.

  * * *

  Tanner only offered to help Miss Collins out of neighborly concern. She had her hands more than full with looking after four children, the house and the chores. How was she going to get the crop in? And if she failed to do so, what would she feed the animals through the winter and how would she buy supplies for herself and the children?

  He shouldn’t be surprised that she objected to having an Indian on her property. He’d come to expect such a reaction. He should just ride away, but something his ma used to say stopped him. “Son, if we see someone in need and walk away, we are guilty of harming them.”

  He did not want to be responsible for harming a pretty young gal and four orphaned children, but what could he do when Susanne had chased him off the place?

  What would his ma do?

  He knew the answer. She’d find a way to help. But she wasn’t alive to help him find a way.

  As he rode past the barn, he eyed the corrals. Susanne’s brother had certainly built them strong, though the wire fences around the pasture showed signs of neglect.

  He rode past the farm, then stopped to look again at the corrals behind him. They were sturdy enough to hold wild horses...and he desperately needed such a corral... A thought began to form, but he squelched it. He couldn’t work here. Not with a woman with so many needs and so much resistance. Not with four white kids. Every man, woman and child in the area would protest about him associating with such fine white folk.

  He shifted his gaze past the corrals to the overgrown garden spot and beyond to the field where a crop had been harvested last fall and stood waiting to be reseeded. He thought of the disorderly tack room. His gaze rested on the idle plow.

  This family needed help. He needed
corrals. Was it really that simple?

  Only one way to find out. He rode back to the farm and dismounted to face a startled Miss Susanne. “Ma’am, I know you don’t want to accept help...”

  Her lips pursed.

  “But you have something I need so maybe we can help each other.”

  Her eyes narrowed. She crossed her arms across her chest. “I don’t see how.”

  He half smiled at the challenging tone of her voice. “Let me explain. I have wild horses to train and no place to train them.”

  “How can that be? You live on a great big ranch.”

  “My pa doesn’t want me bringing wild horses in.” He continued on without giving her a chance to ask any more questions. “But you have a set of corrals that’s ideal.”

  For a moment she offered no comment, no question, then she finally spoke. “I fail to see how that would help me.”

  “Let me suggest a deal. If you let me bring my horses here to work with them and—”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but given that she hadn’t yet heard how she’d benefit he didn’t give her a chance to voice her objections.

  “In return, I will plow your field and plant your crop.” The offer humbled him. He’d made no secret of the fact he didn’t intend to be a farmer. Ever. He only hoped his brothers never found out or they’d tease him endlessly. Even before he finished the thought, he knew they would. He’d simply have to ignore their comments.

  “I have no desire to have a bunch of wild horses here. Someone is likely to get hurt.”

  “You got another way of getting that crop in?” He gave her a second to contemplate that, then added softly, “How will you feed the livestock and provide for the children if you don’t?”

  She turned away so he couldn’t see her face, but he didn’t need to in order to understand that she fought a war between her stubborn pride and her necessity.

  Her shoulders sagged and she bowed her head. Slowly she came about to face him. “This morning I prayed that God would provide a way for me to get the crop in. Seems this must be an answer to my prayer.”

  He was an answer to someone’s prayer? He kind of liked that. Maybe he should pray that God would make Himself plain to him. He’d sure like the answer to that prayer, as well.

  “So I agree to your plan.” Her eyes flashed a warning. “With a few conditions.”

  He stiffened, guarding his heart against the words he expected. Stay away from the children. Don’t think you can make yourself at home. Don’t forget you’re a half-breed. She might not use those exact words but the message would be the same.

  “The children must be treated kindly at all times. And I don’t want them getting hurt because of the horses.”

  His mouth fell slack. He was lost for words. Nothing about his heritage? Nothing at all?

  “Ma’am, there is no need for such conditions. I would never be unkind to a child. Or an adult. Or an animal. Everyone deserves to be treated with respect. And I would never put anyone in danger. For any reason.”

  She studied him for several heartbeats. She seemed to be searching beyond the obvious, but for what?

  He met her look.

  His mouth grew dry. He blinked and shifted away. He saw depths of need and a breadth of longings that left him both hungry to learn more and wishing he saw less.

  “Then we have a deal.” She held her hand out.

  He took it before she remembered he was a half-breed, and marveled at her firm grip despite the smallness of her hand.

  Inside his heart, buried deep, pressed down hard beneath a world of caution, there bubbled to the surface a desire to protect.

  The one thing he meant to protect was his heart. No one, especially a fragile blonde woman, would be allowed near it.

  “We have a deal,” he said.

  Their agreement would certainly solve two problems. But he wondered if it would create a whole lot more to take their place.

  Chapter Two

  A little later, Tanner rode into the yard at Sundown Ranch. His brothers trotted over to the barn as he led Scout in. Though they were close in age—Johnny was twenty, a year younger than Tanner, and Levi two years younger—his brothers were as different from Tanner as was possible. Johnny lived to please his father and to prove he was part of the white world. Levi didn’t much care what anyone except Maisie thought.

  “You get them?” Johnny asked.

  “I sure did. Ten in all. And all three of Ma’s horses. I have them in that little box canyon over the hill.”

  Big Sam ambled into the barn. “Howdy, boys.”

  “Hi, Pa,” they replied.

  “You capture them horses?” he asked Tanner.

  “Ten. Now all I got to do is break them.”

  “Sure wish I could help you out, but you know my feelings.”

  Tanner did. They all did. He could hardly wait to see their surprise when he announced his good news.

  The supper bell rang and the four of them crossed to the house. It was a one-story structure, nothing fancy, but, as Big Sam often said with a great deal of pride, it was solid.

  Maisie waited at the door to greet them. As part of her many rituals, she got a kiss on the cheek from each man as he passed. Not that Tanner was complaining. She was a good, loving mama to Big Sam’s boys and had never let their mixed heritage influence her affections for them.

  They washed up, sat at the table and automatically reached for one another’s hands as Big Sam asked the blessing. Holding hands was another of Maisie’s rituals. He’d found the gesture comforting when he was eight and still found it comforting at twenty-one. There was one place he knew he belonged. Right here in this house.

  They passed the food and then began another of Maisie’s rituals.

  “Sam, did you get the cows moved up to summer pasture?” Over the evening meal, Maisie asked each of them about their day, starting with Pa and then proceeding in descending age.

  “Sure did. Grass is looking good already. The cows will get lots to eat. Soon there will be calves on the ground.”

  Tanner listened as Big Sam described every aspect of the herd. He’d grown up hearing this sort of thing and knew the importance of each detail.

  When Pa was done, it was Tanner’s turn.

  Maisie turned to him. “How did your day go? Did you get those horses you wanted?”

  “Sure did.” Again, he told of his day, describing the horses in more detail for her than he had for his brothers or Pa.

  “And I had a visitor.”

  “Up there?” She sounded as surprised as his brothers looked.

  “A young boy.” He enjoyed parceling out the information in a way that increased their curiosity.

  Maisie sat back, dumbfounded. “What would a child be doing up there? How old was he?”

  “Five.”

  “That’s hardly more than a baby. Levi’s age when your mama died.” She gave Levi a look of love. It was no secret the two of them shared a special bond. She brought her attention back to Tanner. “Was he lost? Abandoned?”

  “Nope. Just wandering a little far from home. It was Robbie Collins. You know, from Jim Collins’s farm.”

  Maisie made a sound half distress, half regret. “Why, it’s—” She counted on her fingers. “It’s four months since he died. I’ve been meaning to get over there. I hear his sister is caring for the children. That poor girl. They say she hasn’t anyone to help. How are they faring?”

  “I’d say she was struggling.”

  “Sam, someone ought to help them.” Maisie shook her head, her look part pity, part scolding.

  Tanner felt rather pleased that he’d be able to reassure her that someone was. “I have a set of corrals to work the horses.”

  Maisie, Big Sam and his two brothe
rs looked at him.

  Big Sam found his voice first. “You built some already? How’d you manage that?”

  “Didn’t build some. Found some ready and waiting.” He grinned at the curiosity his words triggered.

  “Where?”

  “How?”

  “Are you joshing us?”

  “At the Collins place. Pa, did you know Jim Collins had dreams of capturing some of the horses?”

  Pa looked thoughtful. “Come to think of it, I might have heard him mention it a time or two. Took it as just that. Talk.”

  “Nope. It wasn’t. He has a set of corrals over there that are just about perfect.”

  Levi eyed his brother suspiciously. “How’s that going to work? You bought them? Rented them?”

  “Traded for them.” He explained his work agreement with Susanne Collins. That brought a look of complete astonishment from those around the table.

  “You’re going to farm?” Johnny shook his head. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

  Tanner knew what Johnny meant. He’d often scoffed at stooping to join the white man in breaking the land and sowing crops. “It’ll be worth it to have the use of the corrals.”

  As if sensing Tanner’s brothers might have a whole lot more to say about the subject, perhaps things Tanner didn’t care to hear, Maisie turned the conversation to Johnny, asking about his day.

  Tanner listened with half his attention, his thoughts on his recent agreement. What had he done by agreeing to farm? He’d never been interested in hitching a horse to a plow, though he’d had to do it a few times as Pa insisted they grow oats for feed and wheat for flour. How many times had Tanner said his Lakota mother would have hated her sons in such a role? They should be on horseback hunting buffalo. But he hadn’t been thinking about that earlier today. In fact, all he’d been thinking when he suggested the agreement was what a shame that those corrals weren’t being used and that someone ought to help Susanne no matter how much she insisted she didn’t need it. There would be plenty of people saying he wasn’t the right sort of man to do it, but no other man had appeared on the scene in months. He’d be fair to her, though, and stay as far away from Susanne and the children as was humanly possible, considering the corrals were a few hundred feet from the house. Like it or not, they needed each other.