by Linda Ford
What would she say to him? How could she explain when she didn’t understand?
She fed the children, listened to their chatter though she heard not a word. Still Tanner did not stop for dinner. Would he stay out all day simply to avoid her?
She could hardly swallow the last of her food and washed it down with a glass of water.
As the minutes ticked past, her guilt shifted to worry. Something might be wrong. But when she glanced out the window Pat still moved forward with Tanner behind the plow. Neither of them appeared to be injured.
But something was wrong. And she must make it right.
“Children, I want you to stay here while I go see why Tanner hasn’t come in. Liz, watch the little ones, please. And, please, stay in the house.” She did not want an audience to what she must do.
She donned her bonnet, tied it tight, wishing she could hide behind its protection. But hiding wouldn’t fix this. She stepped outside and closed the door behind her. Sucking in air to fortify herself, she marched across the yard to the field.
He was halfway up the row. Close enough she could see his mouth tighten, but too far to see his eyes and hope for clues to his thoughts.
She waited.
He didn’t rush Pat; nor did he pull him back. They plodded forward at a maddeningly slow pace. Now that she had made up her mind about what she must do, she wanted to get it done.
Finally he reached the end. He nodded a greeting but spoke not a word. Nor did she. She’d bide her time until she did what she must.
He unhitched Pat and drove him toward the barn.
She kept pace. “I fear I have offended you and that was not my intention.”
“Uh-huh.”
He was not going to make this easy. Not that she blamed him.
“I would like to say Aunt Ada is responsible for my bad behavior, but I can’t. She isn’t even here. Yes, she taught me that accepting favors carried a dear price. Do you know that she once gave me an old dress of hers? I had outgrown all of mine. The dress was out of style and inappropriate for my age, but I took it gratefully and remade it to fit. It looked quite fine, I thought. What did Aunt Ada do?”
Tanner didn’t stop to guess. He continued walking Pat to the barn and she kept up beside him, rattling on.
“You’d never guess. I don’t think anyone would. She demanded it back. Said I had no right to ruin it. What if she’d wanted to wear it again? I bit my tongue to keep from saying she’d have to lose fifty pounds before she’d ever wear it again.” She would never have said anything so unkind, even to Aunt Ada.
“I didn’t mind giving it back except it left me in rags, but that wasn’t all. She said I must pay for ruining it. How was I to pay when she gave me no allowance and kept me so busy I could never hope to work for someone else? Seems she had it all figured out how I would repay her. She gave me a pile of mending and said I would have to do it after I’d taken care of my other work.” She realized she twisted her hands together and made herself stop. “I’m sorry. That isn’t what I came to say.” She drew in a slow breath to calm her nerves. Why had she babbled on so?
They’d reached the barn and he led Pat to water. As the horse drank, Tanner asked, “What did you mean to say?”
She took courage from his calm voice. Perhaps he wasn’t as offended as she thought. Nevertheless, she had an apology to convey.
She stood tall. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more gracious about you helping Robbie find the marble. It was very kind of you and meant a lot to Robbie.” A beat passed in which she realized she needed to say more. “And to me. Thank you.”
He faced her then, and his black eyes revealed nothing. He waited as if he wanted more. The mere idea made her hands twist again. She hung her arms at her sides and made her fingers be still. “Are you still angry with me?”
“I was never angry.”
“You weren’t? Then what?”
“Susanne, you aren’t the first person to act as if they didn’t care for my help. Don’t suppose you’ll be the last.” His voice was flat, but she sensed a whole world of pain in them.
“Tanner, it has nothing to do with you. It’s me. My problem.” She waited. He didn’t answer, simply led Pat into the barn and gave him a good feed.
She followed and stood back until he was done. Somehow she had to convince him. “Your mother was a Lakota. You’re proud of that. Your father is Big Sam Harding. You’re proud of that, too.”
“I am.”
“Then why aren’t you proud of who you are? Seems to me you have good reason to be, what with a noble woman as your mother and a strong man as your father. But you’re not. Why?”
He failed to hide his surprise.
She did not blink but held his gaze, silently demanding he answer her question.
He shifted his attention to something over her shoulder.
Still she waited.
Finally his gaze came back to her. “Does it matter what I think of myself? Others are happy enough to tell me what they think of me. And it’s not good.”
“Not everyone would agree with that assessment. What about your parents and your brothers? What about friends?” What about me?
He shrugged. “I guess not everyone.”
“There you go.”
He managed a tight smile. “Maybe you and I are alike in that we are both trying to shake off bad things in our lives that seem to hold us.”
She smiled at the idea of them being alike. “Then maybe we can help each other.” She was partial to that idea.
He took a moment, as if considering her suggestion, then gave her a smile that reached his eyes. “No obligation?”
She nodded, pleased clear through. “No offense taken?”
He chuckled. “You got yourself a deal.” Then he sobered. “We both might find this deal harder to fulfill than our first one.”
Harder for sure, she thought, but likely a lot more satisfying.
“I’ll bring out some dinner for you.” She went happily to the house.
“You’re smiling,” Liz said as Susanne entered the kitchen. “That’s good. That means everything is okay.”
“Everything is fine. Why don’t you all go see Tanner while I prepare a plate for him?” She had made a spicy stew with tomatoes and it hadn’t turned out too badly.
The children rushed out the door with a great deal of laughing and whooping.
She smiled. She’d take this food out to Tanner and not put it down on her mental ledger. No more obligation. They had an agreement that suited them both. She would no longer let Aunt Ada make her life miserable or keep her from trusting people.
Ironic how both their problems came down to trusting. Could she help him learn to trust people? Could he help her learn to trust the kindness of others?
She tried not to think of how much it had cost her to do so in the past.
The past was gone. It was time to face the future, to confront her fears. Even if things didn’t turn out well, at least she would have tried.
With that, she mentally looked to the days ahead and closed her mind to the pain of the past. Surely things could be different this time.
Chapter Nine
Tanner finished his dinner and handed the empty plate to Susanne. “Thank you. It was delicious.”
“I tried to make something a little more interesting than the eggs and potatoes we’ve been surviving on.”
They studied each other. He had no idea what she saw but squelched his initial reaction of thinking she saw a half-breed. He meant to stop judging her based on what others said and did. Come to think of it, he never should have done so in the first place. A person should be judged on their own merits and actions. It was what he wanted for himself. If he hoped to get it, he had to extend the same courtesy to others.
 
; “Best get back to work,” he said, standing up. He drove Pat to the field, the children on his heels.
“My pa used to play with us,” Robbie said.
Tanner finished hitching Pat to the plow and turned to consider the four children. “You miss your ma and pa, don’t you?”
Four heads nodded.
“What kind of things did they do with you?” he asked.
“Played chase,” Robbie shouted.
“We went on picnics,” Liz said.
“Pa said he would let me help him train horses.” Frank tried so hard to be responsible and act like a man though he was only a boy.
“He tickled us.” Janie giggled.
Tanner scooped her up. “You mean like this?” He soon had her screaming with laughter. He set her down and acted as if he was about to return to the plow; instead, he grabbed Robbie and tickled him.
The boy laughed and yelled, “Help me, help me.” In seconds, Frank and Liz tackled him. He could have held them off, but he pretended they pushed him to the ground. They all piled on him except for Janie, who held back, perhaps a little fearful of the commotion. He lifted her to his chest and grabbed the other three, pinning them to the ground.
They struggled without getting loose. “Gotta say you give up.”
Liz was the first to speak. “I give.”
He let her go and she backed away, remaining on her knees at his side.
“I’ll never give up.” Frank intensified his efforts.
Tanner shifted the two younger ones to Liz’s side and got serious about wrestling with Frank. He let the boy pin him to the ground, let him tickle him, pretending he couldn’t throw him off. After a bit, and a great deal of apparent struggle, he managed to get Frank to the ground, pinning the boy’s arms over his head.
Frank wriggled and squirmed but could not unseat Tanner.
“Give up?” Tanner asked.
“No.”
He’d give the boy marks for pure stubbornness.
He looked up when he heard Susanne coming toward them. She would think he wasn’t doing his job according to their agreement.
Their first agreement. Remembering their second agreement, he let Frank go and stood up. He grinned at Susanne. “The boy’s tough.”
He could read the hesitation in her face and waited for her reaction.
When she smiled he almost forgot he stood in the middle of a patch of grass. It seemed the world had shifted.
“He takes after his father,” she said.
Frank flexed his muscles. “Pa was strong.”
Tanner and Susanne shared a secret smile.
“Now let’s leave Tanner to do his work,” Susanne said, and shepherded the children away. She glanced over her shoulder and waved goodbye.
Tanner grinned. There was a time he would have taken her words and actions to mean she didn’t want the children hanging around him. But he wouldn’t allow such thoughts to form in the light of the glorious sunshine.
His smile lingered well into the afternoon. His gaze went often to the activity around the house. Susanne took laundry off the line. Then she checked the garden. He could have told her it was too soon for anything to be coming through the ground, but he understood her impatience. Seeing those first shoots push through to sunlight renewed most anyone’s belief in the world.
He tried not to appear too pleased when she brought him cookies and water, the children helping carry everything. After all, she’d done so from the first day.
But today it felt different. The boiled raisin cookies were sweet to his tongue, the water cool to his throat, and her smile as bright as the sunlight pooling around them.
Robbie checked his pocket for his marble. “Not gonna lose it again.”
Tanner wanted to tell him he should keep it in the house if he didn’t want to lose it, but he understood how Robbie found comfort from being able to touch it any time he wanted.
Janie hung at his knees, wanting to be picked up.
“Can you sit for a bit?” he asked Susanne.
“Don’t mind enjoying the sunshine.” She sat, her skirts fanned out about her.
A thought flared in his mind. Did she truly enjoy spending a moment with him, or was she only proving she could relax and not think of obligation?
He sat and pulled Janie to his lap. Robbie crowded close and Tanner patted his knee to indicate there was room for them both. Robbie sat—or rather squirmed—beside his sister.
Tanner had two cookies left. “Anyone need a cookie?”
Two little mouths came open.
He laughed. “Do you expect me to feed you?”
Their mouths still open, drool pooling at the corner of their lips, they nodded.
So he held the cookies and let the children eat from his hands.
It sent Susanne into a fit of laughter. “They’re like little birds.”
“I don’t mind.”
“I know you don’t.” Her blue eyes filled with what he allowed himself to believe was approval. He let the idea percolate in his mind. It grew sweeter with every second. Nice to think someone outside his family might view him with approval.
Her eyes darkened, causing his heart to fill with yearning, and longing. A vast ocean of things he couldn’t admit to.
Robbie’s lips closed about Tanner’s fingers bringing his gaze back to the children.
“All done.” He set them aside. “Thank you. See you all later.” He allowed himself a glance at Susanne as he returned to work.
The rest of the afternoon passed pleasantly enough as he watched Susanne and the children in the yard and contemplated how different it was to stop being defensive about every comment.
Later, Susanne and the children went inside for supper.
She stepped out of the house and tented her hand over her eyes as she looked in his direction. Was she concerned because he worked later than usual? He meant to finish the plowing so tomorrow he could start planting.
He lifted one hand in a little wave that he hoped she would understand meant everything was fine.
He plowed the last furrow. “Pat, that part of your work is done.” He didn’t unhitch the horse until he had parked the plow by the barn.
The children erupted from the house and ran to him, Susanne in their wake. “You finished plowing?”
“I’m done.”
“I’m glad,” she said, her voice full of pleasure.
He leaned back, his hands on his hips, happy to be done and pleased at her eager smile.
“You want me to take care of Pat?” Frank asked, pulling Tanner back to his duties.
“I’m coming, and you can help.”
He allowed the boy to lead the big gentle horse to the trough and let Frank help take off the harness. “Pat deserves a good feed tonight.” He watched Frank put out oats, making sure the amount wasn’t more than was good for the animal. When Frank finished, Tanner squeezed the boy’s shoulder. “Good job.”
He was in no hurry to leave, but it was time. “Goodbye, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He tried to make it a general, all-inclusive comment, then his gaze skimmed the children and skidded to a halt when it met Susanne’s. Who knew how long he would have stared into her eyes if Janie hadn’t pulled on his arm. “Goodbye, Mr. Tanner.”
He ruffled her hair and Robbie’s, touched Liz on the head and shook Frank’s hand. He nodded at Susanne, wondering if his eyes said more than he meant for them to. Regret at leaving, desire to believe she accepted him. He murmured a farewell, swung to Scout’s back and rode away.
He arrived at the ranch just as Big Sam headed for the house.
“Better hurry. Maisie’s already rung the bell.” He looked Tanner up and down. “Try and get some of that dirt off before you come to the house.”
Tanner ducked his head in the water trough, scrubbed his hands up to his elbows, then dried them on an old towel Maisie kept nearby. He trotted to the house, kissed Maisie’s check and went to his chair.
Levi and Johnny barely waited for him to sit before the pair of them leaned forward.
“How come you’re so late?” Johnny demanded.
“You been plowing all this time?” Levi asked.
“Levi,” Maisie warned. “Have a care for Miss Collins’s reputation.”
“Sorry, Ma.” Levi was the only one who called Maisie ma. But then, he barely remembered Seena, the Lakota woman who had birthed all three of them.
Tanner didn’t bother explaining his tardiness. They could wait.
Big Sam told an amusing story about one of the cowboys being chased by a cow. “Tried to warn him to get out of the way, but he weren’t in any hurry.” He chuckled. “Once he saw the cow bearing down on him, he hurried all right. Never seen a bowlegged cowboy move so fast.”
As she laughed, Maisie shifted her attention to Tanner. “How was your day?”
“I finished plowing.” He grinned widely. The others would think that was reason enough for his pleased look. He wouldn’t be telling them of his new agreement with Susanne. Not that they’d understand anyway.
“I believe tomorrow would be a good day for me to visit our neighbor,” Maisie said. “Tanner, please inform her of my plans when you get there.”
Maisie was going to visit? What would she see? A beautiful young woman. Four delightful children. What else?
Tanner had no reason to be concerned and yet he was.
Maisie had suggested he have a care for her reputation. After she saw Susanne’s beauty and the way Tanner’s eyes were drawn to the young woman, she’d be even more concerned.
* * *
“Maisie said to tell you she’d be over for a visit first thing this afternoon.”
Susanne stared at Tanner. “A visit? Here?” Yes, it was the neighborly thing to do, but why now? “What will I serve her?”
“Got any more of those boiled raisin cookies?”
“Only a few. I must bake. What does she like? What will she think?”