by Linda Ford
He strode to Sam, pulled the children up with him and reined away.
The last thing he saw was the narrowed-eyed look Mercy gave him.
She had every right to wonder at his sanity. How had he gone from living such a careful life, trying to protect his children from all harm to wandering around the country with Mercy, trying to convince her his way was best.
The children were quiet, no doubt afraid he was angry at them. He wasn’t. Any more than he was angry at Mercy despite his harsh words. His ire was directed toward himself. He’d allowed a woman to make him forget his duties and responsibilities. Hadn’t he learned the lesson well enough already? He scrubbed a hand across his eyes. He really should go back and apologize to Mercy. No, it would have to wait. Right now it was imperative he get Allie home and tend to her. Please, God, don’t let her little lapse damage her heart further.
As soon as they reached the cabin he took the children inside. “Allie, I want you to go directly to bed.” He could only hope that rest would offset the afternoon.
“But, Papa, I’m hungry.”
“I’ll make something to eat in a bit.” He waited as she begrudgingly changed into her nightie and crawled into her bed. “Ladd, you make sure she’s okay while I tend to the chores.” He hurriedly cared for Sam and gathered an armload of firewood. As he approached the cabin, he heard Ladd talking and paused to listen.
“Allie, please stop. Papa will blame me if something happens to you.”
What was she doing? He shoved the door open. If he wasn’t mistaken, Allie scrambled into bed as he stepped inside. He eyed her for a full thirty seconds, but she only smiled sweetly.
He shook his head and heated up soup for them.
“Papa, can I sit at the table to eat?” Allie asked as he filled bowls for each of them.
He studied his daughter. Her cheeks were pink. If he didn’t know better he would say she looked the picture of health. She squirmed about until her bedcovers were tangled. Perhaps she would be more comfortable at the table. “Yes, you may sit with us.”
She bounced from the bed and across the floor, perched on the edge of her chair and wriggled until he feared she’d fall off or make herself sick. But she ate the entire contents of the bowl and finished before Ladd.
Obviously the child was overexcited. “Both of you get into bed and I’ll read to you.” That bedtime routine usually calmed them like nothing else.
They sat cross-legged on their beds as he pulled a chair close and read. He’d finished one page when Allie started to bounce, sending her bed hopping.
He lowered the book and stared at his daughter. “Allie, what’s wrong with you?”
“I don’t feel like being sick all the time.” Another bounce emphasized her words. “I want to ride a horse like Mercy showed me.” She sprang to her feet and pretended to balance as if standing on the back of a horse. “I want to do rope tricks like Mercy.” To illustrate, she swung her arms over her head.
Ladd leaped to his feet. “And I want to shoot fancy guns.” He twirled pretend guns.
Abel swept Allie into his arms. “You know you can’t do that. Your heart won’t take it.” He held her close. What had he done by exposing his children to Mercy’s wild dreams? And how was he going to change it? He still needed help with the children and she’d promised to watch them.
He eventually got the children settled and then cleaned up the supper dishes, his mind twirling with confusion all the while. If he had any other choice—
He could think of no option other than taking them to Linette. And she wasn’t feeling well enough, she’d said.
Sleep did not come easily as his thoughts grew more tangled. He couldn’t deny he’d enjoyed Mercy’s company after church. And, yes, at church, too. She listened so intently. Perhaps only because she didn’t agree. Poor Mercy. To be neglected by her parents after her brother’s death. Again, he vowed to always put his children first, take care of their interests before his own.
Which meant he needed to accept Mercy’s help even if she did leave him confused.
Having resolved the problem, he fell asleep.
But the answer didn’t seem as clear the next morning.
He and the children had eaten breakfast and they’d helped him clean up between trips to look out the door to see if Mercy came.
“Papa, maybe she’s not coming. You were rude to her yesterday. Why were you so angry with her?” Ladd asked.
“I had my reasons.”
“Like Mama always had her reasons for leaving?” Allie whispered.
“Not like that at all.” Ruby’s reasons were selfish. His were self-preservation. A whole lot of difference.
“What if she isn’t going to look after us anymore?” Ladd demanded.
He sighed. He didn’t need Ladd pointing out that he might have burned some bridges, an act that might put him in a jam yet again.
It seemed contact with Mercy pushed him into one difficulty after another.
“But she said she’d come.” Allie’s voice grew strong and certain. “So she will.” Then her face crumpled with worry. “Unless something’s happened to her.” Her eyes widened. “Maybe a bear got her.”
He patted Allie’s shoulder. “Do you think she’d let a bear catch her?”
Allie’s eyes shone as she shook her head. “She’d rope him.”
“Or shoot him,” Ladd added, and the twins grinned at one another.
But what if that man in the woods had waylaid her? What if a wild animal had pounced on her? Would anyone think to go looking for her? They’d assume she was at his cabin.
“Let’s go to the ranch and see what’s keeping her.”
The twins hurried to pull on coats as he went to saddle Sam.
He rode slowly, scanning the trail and the trees beside them. He strained to catch any unusual sound, all the while being careful not to alert the twins to his concern.
A dark shadow flitted through the trees on his right. He slowed Sam further and watched for another glimpse yet saw nothing more. Had it been the whiskered man? Or his imagination? But he knew he’d seen something beyond the normal shapes and shadows of the woods. His heart clawed at his ribs.
If the man had taken Mercy he would find her. But he wouldn’t have the twins with him. He nudged Sam into a faster pace. He must take the twins to the ranch and then he’d go looking for Mercy.
If that man had harmed her…
*
Mercy swung the loop of rope into a huge circle and held Nugget steady as she tried to keep it swinging over the pair of them. It was harder than it looked and took a great deal of concentration. The loop caught on her shoulder and she sighed as she coiled it back into her hand to try again.
Thanks to Abel’s taunts yesterday her concentration wasn’t what it should be. Why is it every time I’m with you, my children end up in danger? The man had a whole repertoire of insults. Good thing she’d soon be gone…a star in a Wild West show. Maybe she’d even get her picture on a poster. She could imagine herself on Nugget’s back as he reared up on his hind legs while she swung a rope around them. But first she had to perfect the trick.
She swung the rope into a circle again.
Would the children miss her? She let the rope fall. She already missed them. But she didn’t miss their father.
Ignoring the way her arm had begun to ache, she again swung the rope into a circle.
The hoofbeats of a horse riding into the yard made her forget the trick. Linette had gone back to bed, and Jayne and Sybil had gone for a walk. In the cookhouse Cookie and Bertie might not notice the approach of a rider. She would see who visited. She coiled up the ropes and rode past the barn.
She saw a horse approach, with three riders.
“Mercy,” Ladd called. “We’ve been looking for you.”
Abel looked up at her. Surprise shifted to relief before his face darkened with anger.
She held her ground. She’d done nothing to justify such a dark look.
H
e lifted the children down. “Go to Cassie’s house while I talk to Mercy.”
The children scampered away. He didn’t even bother to tell Allie not to run, a fact that scratched up Mercy’s spine.
He swung off his horse and stalked toward her.
She stared down at him, determined not to reveal any hint of trepidation while, inside, she shivered at the way he studied her.
He planted his hand around her waist and lifted her to the ground.
“How dare you?” she sputtered.
“I’m not going to look up at you while I say my piece.”
“There’s nothing to say.” At the way his jaw muscles bunched she wondered if she should have said that.
He planted his hands on his hips and glowered at her. “Why are you here?”
“I live here.”
“I suppose you’re practicing your fancy tricks.” Each word dripped with disapproval.
“So what if I am? I don’t see that it’s any of your business.” She jammed her fists on her hips and met him look for look.
“Right. A strange man is wandering the woods, maybe looking for a pretty young lady to kidnap, and it’s none of my business.” His breathing grew ragged.
She stared. “You were worried about me?” It didn’t make sense. “But you don’t even like me.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Who says I don’t like you?”
“You.” She jabbed a finger at his chest. “You call me foolish, a menace, accuse me of being a danger.” She delivered every word with a jab.
He caught her hand and held it firm. His eyes darkened. He scrubbed his lips together, then opened his mouth and closed it without uttering a word “I can’t afford to like a woman. My children come first. Now and always.”
She shook her head. What did that have to do with liking her? Or anyone. Must the two be exclusive? He was too much like her parents. Seeing her as inconsequential. She was tired of being seen that way.
She had to get away from him before she said or did something she’d regret. She grabbed Nugget’s reins and led him toward the barn.
“Where are you going?”
She ignored him.
Muttering about stubborn women, he strode after her. “We need to talk.”
“I have nothing to say and I certainly don’t want to hear what you have to say.” She stepped inside the barn and headed down the alley.
He followed her.
She turned and glowered at him, but her anger died at the way he looked at her.
He snagged a strand of her hair and brushed it off her cheek, sending a jolt of sweetness through her veins. Oh, to receive such loving touches. She’d longed for it all her life. But he didn’t even like her.
She pulled away and continued walking down the alley.
A deep sigh followed her. “Mercy, it doesn’t matter what we think of each other. The children need someone to watch them so I can work. Will you please come?” The words grated as if his throat closed off at having to beg.
Did it matter what they thought of each other? His feelings were adequately clear even though she found it impossible to pull hers into any kind of sense. Of course, she didn’t care for him. He was an arrogant, judgmental rule keeper. Nor did she care what he thought of her.
Only trying to convince herself made her ache like a giant festering tooth.
“Please?” He stood in the middle of the alley, his hat in hand.
It hurt to see him beg. Even if he didn’t like her and she didn’t care about him.
“I didn’t think you’d want me back after yesterday.”
“I’m sorry. I spoke in haste. I wanted to come back and apologize, but I was concerned about Allie and rushed home. Will you accept my apology now?”
The ache inside her developed a teary feel. When had anyone, apart from Sybil and Jayne, ever apologized for unkind words to her? Mostly they didn’t even notice that something they said had hurt her feelings. And she’d learned to hide her reactions.
She swallowed hard and sniffed. Hiding her feelings proved more difficult at the moment than ever before. “Apology accepted, and if you’re sure you trust me with the children, I will take care of them.”
He struggled to answer, no doubt unable to say he trusted her.
“If you don’t, then are you wise to ask me to look after them?” She intended to press the matter.
Finally, he nodded. “So long as you remember Allie’s fragile health.”
She sighed long and heavy. “Abel, I know the pain of losing someone because of poor health. I lost my brother, remember? I would never put Allie’s health at risk.”
He closed the distance between them and again brushed his knuckles across her cheek. Again, she experienced a rush of something elemental and needy.
She was not needy.
“I’m sorry about your loss.”
“It’s in the past.”
“Your feelings are not in the past. You’re still trying—” He shrugged. “Never mind.”
What had he said yesterday? About her wanting to do things so she wasn’t invisible. But he was wrong. That too was in the past. She simply liked adventure. Didn’t care for an ordinary life.
“Can you come today?” he finally asked. “I can still get some work done.”
“Sure, I’ll come now if you like.”
“I would.” He gave a quick grin that caused her to catch her breath.
A few minutes later they rode toward his cabin, Ladd and Allie chattering happily. As the trail widened they rode side by side and Abel smiled at her.
It didn’t matter what he thought of her, but it was pleasant to enjoy a few minutes of approval.
Chapter Seven
Four days later, Abel returned with more logs. The weather had turned cold and damp, so Mercy and the children spent the days indoors. He jogged across the yard to the cabin and ducked inside, met by warmth and the smell of coffee simmering on the back of the stove. The children glanced up and called hello. Mercy had been laughing at something the children said and the smile lingered in her eyes.
He could get used to this sort of welcome.
Scraps of paper covered the floor. He didn’t care for the mess, it bringing to mind Ruby’s carelessness as a mother. But so long as it was cleaned up at the end of the day he tried to not let it bother him. “What are you doing?”
“Making a treasure map,” Ladd said.
“We’re going on a ’venture,” Allie added.
His daughter’s cheeks were slightly flushed thought Mercy had lived up to her word and kept the child playing quietly. Suspicion poked in an ugly thought. Did Mercy let them do rambunctious things when she knew he wouldn’t be around? No. He had promised to trust her. Relied on the fact she’d lost a brother due to illness and, because of that, understood the risks for Allie.
“What kind of treasure? And what kind of adventure?” he asked.
Ladd grew serious. “Well, you see that’s part of the adventure. We don’t know where we’re going or what we’ll find.”
“I see.” He quirked any eyebrow at Mercy, guessing Ladd quoted her words. “So how will you know when you’re there?”
She gave a little shrug as if to indicate she understood he found their play amusing. “We’ll know. First sunny, warm day we’re going treasure hunting.”
“Not too far, I trust.”
“Trust? Hmm.”
He understood her disbelief. He’d promised to trust her, so how was he to make her understand his trust only went so far? He would never let someone put his children at risk, even if it meant constant checking and supervising.
He poured himself a cup of coffee and lifted the lid on a syrup bucket that she kept filled with cookies. He snagged a handful. He sure did appreciate the cookies and hot coffee waiting when he returned. And the children were getting lots of attention.
He drank deeply of the coffee, but the warmth that encircled his heart had nothing to do with the heat of the drink and everything to do with all
the good things Mercy brought into his life and the lives of his children. Despite her wild ways. He ate the cookies hurriedly. “Thank you,” he murmured as he headed for the door.
She rose and followed him outside. “For what?”
He twisted his hat between his fingers. “For looking after the children.” The words fell short of what he meant. “For making life good.”
She blinked, then widened her eyes.
“I gotta get back to work.” He strode away so fast she must wonder what bothered him. And he couldn’t explain that although the words were true they scared him, like being treed by a wildcat. Which was mighty close to the truth. Mercy was as close to being a wildcat as any woman he’d met. She would never belong in his life. She meant to join a Wild West show. This was temporary and he best keep that in mind for all their sakes and his sanity. No more women. Especially the kind that didn’t care to settle down.
He worked so hard the rest of the afternoon that despite the cold, damp air, he was down to his shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
When he was about ready to head back to the cabin, a snap in the woods jerked him to full attention. Someone was out there. That strange man? The hair on the back of his neck tingled. What did the man want? Was he waiting for a chance to intrude into the cabin? Would he bother Mercy? Did he want something Abel had?
Slowly, he edged around to the horse and removed his rifle. He kept it at the ready as he made his way back to the cabin. He unloaded the logs, unhooked the stoneboat and took Sam to the corral to brush and feed. All the while he secretly scanned the area around the cabin. Had the man followed him? Would he wait for Mercy to leave? His nerves twitched.
How much risk did Mercy face as she rode back and forth? If only she could stay. He snorted. That was impossible. Under any circumstances.
Finally he made his way to the cabin. A couple days ago he’d brought in a deer, and the succulent aroma of roasting venison filled the room. He breathed deeply. “Smells good.”
“Everything is ready.” She snagged her coat off the hook by the door. “I’ll return tomorrow if you need me.”
“I do.”
She hugged the children goodbye and left, with Abel following her. “Mercy, about that man in the woods…”
