The Cowboy's Ready-Made Family

by Linda Ford

  Horrible pictures raced through his mind. A wild animal prowling about or worse, a wild man. But he saw no signs of either and trusted his tracking skills well enough to know he hadn’t missed anything.

  He reached the top of a little hill and turned toward the farm. Susanne stood in the middle of the yard, her hand tented over her eyes as she watched him. He shook his head. Although he couldn’t see her clearly, he studied her for another moment, feeling and sharing her distress.

  He rode on to the next hilltop and studied as far as the horizon in every direction. Toward the ranch, he made out a familiar horse and buggy. Maisie. Shouldn’t she have reached home by now? He squinted and saw she was headed in the direction of the farm. What would bring her this way after she’d just visited? And she was coming fast.

  Tremors raced up and down his spine. He kicked Scout into a gallop on a path that would intercept her.

  Maisie didn’t slow down until he was almost upon her. There was no mistaking the worried look on her face.

  “What’s wrong?” he called, slowing Scout so he could hear her reply.

  She pulled to a stop and waited for him to reach her. “I thought you might be worried.” She pointed over her shoulder.

  Tanner followed the direction she indicated. “Janie.” She sat on the floor behind Maisie, her eyes wide.

  Tanner dropped to the ground and reached the buggy in two racing strides. He scooped the little girl from the back and hugged her as tightly as he dared. She clung to his neck and started to cry in heaving gulps.

  “How... Where...?”

  Maisie gave one of her sweet, gentle smiles. “When I got home I found her hiding under the robe I keep in the back of the wagon. I knew Susanne would be awfully worried when she couldn’t find the child so I headed back again.”

  “Are you okay?” he asked Janie, who nodded.

  “Then let’s get you back to your aunt.” He paused at Maisie’s side. “Thank you.”

  “I’m glad she’s safe.”

  “You’ll be okay?” he asked Maisie.

  “I’m fine. Take the child back to Susanne. And, Tanner?”

  “Yes?”

  “I like Susanne.”

  He nodded. He did, too, but he wasn’t about to say so. He swung onto Scout’s back a little more awkwardly than usual with Janie hanging from his neck. Not that he minded. He’d keep her there always if it would mean she was safe.

  She sobbed for the first mile back to the farm. Then she sighed and snuggled into his arms. “I knowed you’d find me,” she murmured. When she said nothing more, he looked at her. She’d fallen asleep.

  Tanner rode home at a moderate pace so as not to disturb her.

  On the slope of the second hilltop he saw the farm. There Susanne walked along the thin trail in his direction, her head down, searching the ground. He should have known she wouldn’t be content to wait. Waiting was so hard.

  He was about to call out when she glanced up and saw him. He waved his hat in a victory circle.

  She picked up her skirts and raced toward them.

  “Here comes your aunt.”

  Janie wakened and he turned her about so she could see Susanne. He galloped toward her. As soon as he was close enough, he dropped to the ground, with the girl clinging to his neck.

  Susanne flew into his arms, crushing Janie between them. She laughed and cried as she patted Janie and smoothed her hair. Then she patted Tanner’s cheeks. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She smiled at him with such joy he felt ten feet tall. “You are a good man.” She patted his cheek again.

  He didn’t know why finding a child should mark him as a good man. Any person would have sprung into action, but he liked hearing it and buried the words in his heart.

  They turned their steps toward the farm, where the other children waited anxiously. When they were all gathered round he set Janie on her feet and told them what happened.

  Susanne knelt before Janie. “I’m so glad you are okay but, sweetie, please promise me you won’t get into any wagon or buggy but our own.”

  Janie clung to her aunt. “It was such a nice place to hide but then I fell asleep and then the buggy started moving and I was scared.”

  Susanne hugged her. She looked up at Tanner, her eyes awash. She needed a hug every bit as much as Janie did, though now was not the time or place. He squeezed her shoulder hoping she’d understand.

  She gave a tremulous smile that warmed his soul.

  He hugged the other children, his heart overflowing with gratitude and affection. His gaze sought the distance, seeking a place where he belonged in this picture. Was he the man who planted the crop? Was he a neighbor, a friend? Could he be more? Was it possible for a half-breed with one foot in the white world and the other in the native world to fit into a white family? To be accepted?

  “Pat!” The poor, patient horse stood in the middle of the field where Tanner had abandoned him. “I need to bring him home.”

  “I’ll help,” Frank said.

  Although he didn’t need help, he and Frank strode side by side to the field. He let Frank do a good half the work of unhitching and then driving the horse to the barn. Pat drank deeply and gave a hefty snort when they led him to his stall. “Feed him extra well tonight,” Tanner said. “He deserves it.”

  He and Frank brushed the horse and fussed over him.

  “I was a little scared,” Frank said from the other side of Pat.

  Tanner couldn’t see him, and perhaps that’s why Frank felt comfortable enough to confess his feelings. “Me, too.”

  “She’s so little.”

  “Yes, she is.”

  “I don’t think I could stand it if something happened to her.” Frank’s voice broke.

  Tanner edged around Pat. What could he say to help the boy? Then something Maisie had said often as Tanner and his brothers were growing up came to mind. “God’s job is to help and guide us. Our job is to follow and trust Him.”

  Frank looked at Tanner, his gaze probing deep. “Do you believe that’s true?”

  The truth hit him in the gut. “Yes, I guess I do. But sometimes our job is hard.”

  Frank resumed brushing Pat. “Sure hope I learn to do it soon.”

  “Me, too. Maybe life would be simpler if we did.”

  “Hmm.”

  The two of them finished grooming Pat and as they left the barn Tanner draped his arm across the boy’s shoulders. Maybe it was time to learn to trust more, if only so he could help Frank.

  The hour was late. Maisie would be wondering how everyone was. But he hated to say goodbye, hated to leave them. It wasn’t so much they needed him, he realized with a start, as he needed them.

  When they reached the house, Frank stepped inside and Tanner remained at the doorway. “Come here, Janie.” The child flung herself into his arms. “Goodbye until tomorrow.”

  He held her as he said goodbye to each of the children.

  “Goodbye,” he said then to Susanne, his gaze clinging to her. He did not want to leave but he knew he had to. He put Janie down and backed out the door.

  Susanne followed him outside and pulled the door closed. “Thank you again.” Her eyes were filled with gratitude and so much more, though he couldn’t say what. She lowered her gaze. “I hate to see you go.” Her voice was a mere whisper. “I feel safer with you here.”

  It was on the tip of his tongue to say he would stay in the barn. He’d even sleep in the middle of the plowed field if it made her feel better. But Maisie’s warning to consider Susanne’s reputation wouldn’t allow him to offer. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  He couldn’t say who reached for the other first but their hands clasped. Their gazes locked and his heart welcomed her.

  She broke away. “Goodbye. Safe trip.”


  He swung to Scout’s back and rode away. The afternoon had been overcharged with emotion and it was causing him to have feelings and thoughts that had no basis.

  He told himself he wouldn’t think how good it felt to be included in the family scenario, to be hugged by everyone including Susanne, but he did anyway.

  How could he ever hope to belong in either world?

  * * *

  Susanne returned to the kitchen and the waiting children. “We’ll stay together from now on.” She assigned them each a chore that kept them in the house until after supper and dishes. Then they trooped out to bring the cow home. Not until they were all in bed was she forced to face her thoughts.

  She’d acted like one of the children, clinging to Tanner. Looking for someone bigger and stronger to hold her.

  And he had.

  But what must he think? She’d revealed too much. Opened her heart to the realization she would like to share her life with someone.

  The depth of her longing frightened her. Letting someone into her life filled her with dread. Wasn’t it the greatest risk of obligation?

  Now there was only one thing she could do. She would be very careful in the future to keep her distance from Tanner.

  She went to bed early hoping sleep would ease her troubled thoughts. But her mind refused to be lulled to sleep for a long time.

  A noise jerked her awake. She sat up, straining to hear the sound again. When she heard nothing, she fell back on her pillow. It had only been her imagination, fueled by Maisie’s words to be careful and then the worrisome disappearance of Janie.

  She closed her eyes, ready to welcome sleep once more.

  Again something wakened her. Her heart raced, her pulse beat against the top of her head. This time she heard the sound. Thump. Something banged into the outside of the house. Suddenly she felt so alone and vulnerable.

  A small sound eased past her clenched teeth. She swallowed it back, and slowly, her limbs trembling, she slipped from the bed and grabbed a wrapper. But it was not enough protection. Instead she grabbed one of Jim’s coats that still hung in the wardrobe. She slipped it on, buttoned it to the neck and silently tiptoed from her room.

  The sound grew louder, more frequent. More insistent.

  She edged noiselessly across the kitchen floor and grabbed the poker. Her mouth was so dry her throat tickled and she feared she might cough. But she couldn’t make a sound. Her best defense was surprise. The thumps progressed along the wall, coming closer and closer to the door.

  She gritted her teeth. Jim’s rifle. Where was it? She had hidden it behind the coats and boots and extra bedding in the closet between the two bedrooms where the children slept.

  Praying she could find it without bringing the contents of the closet crashing to the floor, she slid her feet slowly in that direction. The door creaked as she opened it. She froze, waiting to see if the outside sounds would cease. Please, God, send away whatever it is.

  She heard another thump, accompanied by a grunt. It sounded human and Susanne pawed frantically past the coats for the rifle. When her fingers touched the cold steel of the barrel, she eased it out gingerly. She’d never shot a gun. Never loaded one. All she knew to do was point it and yell “bang.” Hardly effective self-defense.

  She could only hope the intruder would not know of her deficiencies.

  She faced the door and lifted the weapon to her shoulder as she’d seen Jim do. She waited, her legs vibrating with tension, her heart pounding so hard she feared she would faint.

  The intruder found the door. Rattled the handle. Thudded against the wood. Muttered.

  The door wasn’t locked. She’d never felt it needed to be. They lived twenty miles from town, ten miles from the Sundown Ranch and even farther from any neighbors. In the time she’d been here, there had never been more than a handful of visitors.

  The handle rattled again and then the door creaked open. A sliver of moonlight sliced across the floor and was immediately blocked by the outline of a man.

  “Stop right there,” she ordered, boldly and loudly though she felt more like whimpering and hiding in a corner. “I’ve got my rifle aimed at you and I’ll use it if you come one step closer.” The faint moonlight glistened off the barrel.

  The man swayed back, both hands up. “Don’ shoot.”

  Even without his slurred words, the stench of alcohol and sweat made Susanne grimace. Bad enough an intruder but an intoxicated one! “Back away from the door.”

  The man took a step but swayed sideways.

  “Get back.” She edged forward, mindful of how unsteady the man was on his feet. How easily he could lurch at her. All she wanted to do was get the door closed between them.

  “Tanner. I wanna see Tanner.”

  “Tanner doesn’t live here. You have the wrong place.”

  The figure swayed back and forth as he backed up. “I seen him here. Where ish he?”

  “Go to the Sundown Ranch. You’ll find him there.”

  The man collapsed six feet back from the open door. “I wait for him.”

  Susanne pushed the door shut, barred it securely and stood before the window where she could make out the now unmoving dark shape on the ground.

  How long until morning? How long before Tanner came?

  The clock above the door ticked away the seconds, each as long as a normal hour. Never before had she realized how loud the clock was. Her legs quivered, her arms ached, but she would not leave her position. She would not take her eyes off the intruder. What if he got up? What if he sobered up? Would he be angry? Intent on getting into the house?

  Susanne held her position until the sky turned gunmetal gray, then pink streaks heralded the sun’s arrival. Behind her she heard the children stir.

  Frank came to his bedroom door. “Auntie Susanne! What are you doing?”

  “Stay in your room,” she whispered. “Keep Robbie there, too. Tell the girls to stay in their rooms.”

  “What’s wrong?” Frank whispered back.

  “You can get dressed, but be as quiet as possible.” She feared any noise would waken the man outside. Now that it was light, she saw he had tangled black hair and wore the same kind of leather trousers that Tanner wore.

  The four children clustered in their doorways, curious and afraid.

  “There’s someone asleep out there. I don’t want him to wake up. But if he does, I want you children in your bedrooms with the doors closed.”

  They didn’t move.

  She tore her gaze away enough to glance at them. Seeing their expressions of fear, she wanted to comfort and assure them. But how could she when her own nerves rattled so loud she could barely think? “We’ll wait here until Tanner comes.”

  The children relaxed visibly.

  “He’ll know what to do,” Frank said.

  “He’ll take care of us,” Janie said with such conviction the four of them turned back to their rooms and closed their door silently. The faint rustle of them dressing was the only sound they made.

  Susanne wished she didn’t feel like Janie—waiting for Tanner to take care of her. Seemed he was always helping and rescuing her. And despite last night’s vow that she would not open her heart up to longings and needs that frightened her, she could hardly wait to see him ride over the hill.

  “Here he comes,” she whispered, not knowing if the children could hear her.

  He crested the hill, stopped and eyed the place. Did he see something amiss?

  Then he reined about and rode out of sight.

  Her heart thudded to the soles of her feet. Was he leaving her to handle this on her own?

  Chapter Eleven

  Tanner knew it the moment he crested the hill. He saw the door closed and no sign of activity, and knew something was wrong. Then he saw the figur
e of a man outside the house. Every nerve in his body kicked into a frenzy. A dozen different possibilities filled his imagination, none of them good.

  Had some ruffian discovered Susanne alone and defenseless and taken advantage of her?

  Were the occupants of the house injured? Or worse?

  He waited, his heart thumping an irregular rhythm against his ribs. He studied the house, the yard, the surrounding area, finding nothing to indicate what had happened. Still he waited, assessing every possibility. He did not mean to ride in there without a great deal of caution. It could be a trap.

  He turned away from the farm and guided Scout along the line of hills that hid him from the farm. His heart pounded and his breath scraped from his lungs. While he was out of sight all sorts of things could happen. He forbade his imagination to provide pictures of the dreadful possibilities.

  At a grove of trees he tied Scout. “You stay here.” He half crouched, half ran toward the yard, keeping to what little cover he could find. At times, there was nothing but grass, and he squirmed forward on his belly, pausing often to strain for any sound, any clue. All he heard was his own ragged breathing and the whistle of his heartbeat in his ears.

  He approached the farm from behind the cover of the barn, and remained motionless behind a scraggly bush as he studied every detail of the yard. He saw no one lingering in the shadows, peering from the loft or hiding behind the chicken house. He waited and listened until his ears burned, then eased forward. He clung to the rough wall of the barn as he edged around to see the house.

  It came into view. So did the man on the ground.

  He studied the shape several seconds until recognition dawned. Then, anger flooding his veins, he strode forward and nudged the figure with his boot. “Charlie, wake up.”

  Charlie grunted and groaned. He rubbed his eyes against the sunlight and slowly sat up, his head hanging down. He pressed his hands to the sides of his head. “Hurts.”

  “You got a hangover.” He had little sympathy for his cousin. He was a half-breed just like Tanner. But the kind of half-breed that gave them a bad name. “What are you doing here?”

  “Came to see you.” He squinted up at Tanner. “Where was ya?”