The Cowboy Arrangement

Susanne Collins has her hands full raising her four orphaned nieces and nephews and managing the family farm. So when her cowboy neighbor proposes he plant her crops in exchange for keeping his wild horses in her corrals, Susanne hesitantly takes the deal. Soon her reluctance to accept help ebbs, and she wonders if Tanner Harding will he prove to be the strong, solid man she’s been hoping for...

Half–Native American Tanner has always been adrift in a white man’s world. Yet the beautiful stand-in mother and her ready-made family give him a sense of belonging for the very first time. But can he convince Susanne to take a chance and welcome him not just into her home but also into her heart?

Montana Cowboys: These brothers live and love by the code of the West

“I agree to your plan. With a few conditions.”

Tanner stiffened, guarding his heart against the words he expected. Stay away from the children. Don’t forget you’re a half-breed.

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

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.”

“Then we have a deal.” Susanne 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.

LINDA FORD lives on a ranch in Alberta, Canada, near enough to the Rocky Mountains that she can enjoy them on a daily basis. She and her husband raised fourteen children—four homemade, ten adopted. She currently shares her home and life with her husband, a grown son, a live-in paraplegic client and a continual (and welcome) stream of kids, kids-in-law, grandkids, and assorted friends and relatives.

The Cowboy’s

Ready-Made Family

Linda Ford

www.millsandboon.co.uk

The Lord thy God in the midst of thee is mighty; he will save, he will rejoice over thee with joy; he will rest in his love, he will joy over thee with singing.

—Zephaniah 3:17

Dedicated to the memory of my grandson, Julien Yake, who passed away July 2015 at age 19; and to his mother, who will forever mourn him.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Spring 1899

Near Granite Creek, Montana

The skin on the back of Tanner Harding’s neck tingled. Something—or someone—watched him.

He slowly straightened from leaning against the fence but kept his eyes on the horses corralled behind the barricade of intertwined thick branches. He didn’t want to alert whatever rustled behind him that he was aware of its presence. He crossed his arms as if his sole purpose was admiring the wild mares he’d captured, but one hand slipped down to the handle of the knife he carried on his belt. Whether it be man or beast, Tanner didn’t intend it to succeed in attacking him.

A slight sound indicated the stalker had moved toward Tanner’s right, to the little grove of trees. A bear? It was too quiet and it didn’t smell. A cougar? A big cat would be up the tree waiting for a chance to pounce. A man? That seemed most likely.

He tensed his muscles, fixed in his thoughts where to strike, and sprang around in a single movement that most men couldn’t imitate. But then most men didn’t have Lakota blood mixed with white in their veins.

His right arm came up. The steel blade of his knife flashed as he confronted—

A boy? A little boy, with tousled blond hair and blue eyes as wide as moons, who shrank back as far as the tree trunk allowed.

“You gonna kill me?” he squeaked.

Tanner slid the knife back into its sheath as the tension drained from his body. “You’re too little to be any danger to me.”

The boy drew himself up to the fullest of his barely three feet. “I ain’t too little.” He crossed his arms and thumped them to his chest. “I’m five.”

“Uh-huh.” Tanner perched one foot on the nearby fallen tree and leaned over his leg. “You got a name?”

“Robbie.”

“Is there a last name goes with that, Robbie?”

“Robbie Collins.”

He knew the family. They lived down the valley a bit, scratching out a living on a farm. The mother had died a year or more ago, the father, a few months past. Who was in charge of this child and the other three children in the family? They weren’t doing much of a job for this youngster to be a few miles from home.

“What’s your name?” Robbie spoke with an amusing mix of bravado and innocence.

“Tanner Harding.”

Robbie nodded. “You live on that big ranch over there, don’cha?”

“Yup.”

“You gots some brothers.”

“Two. Johnny and Levi. They’re both younger than me.” Was the boy purposely trying to divert Tanner from finding out what he was doing here? “Won’t someone be worried about you?”

Robbie ignored the question and moseyed over to the barricade of tree branches. “Those your horses?”

“They are now.” Three of the mares for sure were descendants of his mother’s mare, which had been turned out to join the wild herd after her death. No one but his mother had been able to ride her. He meant to gentle them, breed them to a top-notch stud and start a herd that would have made his mother proud. He would be proud, too. Might even gain him a little respect from the white men in the area. At least he hoped so. Though it might be too much to hope they would at some point accept him as their equal.

“They’re wild horses, right?”

“I’m going to tame them.”

Robbie might only be five, but the look he gave Tanner overflowed with so much doubt that Tanner chuckled.

He dropped his booted foot to the ground. “We better get you home.”

Robbie’s shoulders sank. “Auntie Susanne is not going to be happy with me.”

“Oh?”

He hung his head. “I’m not supposed to go away without telling her.”

Tanner studied the boy. So Robbie had wandered off before. “Then why do you?”

Robbie shrugged. “Just ’cause,” he mumbled. He lifted his head and fixed Tanner with a desperate look. “’Cause things is different now.”

Tanner swung to the back of his horse and reached down to lift Robbie up. “Different how?”

“I’s got no mama or papa. Just Auntie Susanne.” Sorrow dripped from every word.

Tanner felt sorry for this motherless five-year-old boy. Tanner had been seven when Seena, his own ma, died. But his pa was still alive and strong as an ox. A suitable time after Tanner’s mother died, Big Sam Harding had married Maisie and provided the three boys with a loving stepmother.

But it wasn’t the same. Maisie was blonde and white and sweet as honey. Tanner’s ma was a full-blood Lakota Indian and more tough than sweet, though she loved deeply. She’d been injured escaping the Battle of the Little Bighorn and Big Sam had rescued her, nursed her to health, married her and built the ranch for her. After her death, Tanner had felt lost. A half-breed boy in a white world.

Turning the offspring of Ma’s mare into a fine herd was meant to correct the lost feeling that lingered to this day.

He took one more look at the mares. The fence was meant only to capture them. He needed solid corrals in which to train them. There were solid corrals back at the ranch, but Pa said he couldn’t bring in a bunch of wild horses.

“First thing we know, the wild stallions will be coming around stealing the mares back and taking our stock, too.” Pa was right, of course, but being right didn’t solve Tanner’s dilemma. He’d build a new set of corrals out here, but that would take time he didn’t care to spend when he could be training the horses. Somehow he hoped to find an easier solution.

But first he needed to deal with the boy before him.

“Best get you back home,” he told Robbie as they headed toward the little farm.

A short time later a low house with smoke rising from the chimney came into view. A cow wandered through some trees to the south, while a big workhorse grazed placidly in the farthest corner of the farm.

A boy climbed the pasture fence, and in the yard two girls chased chickens. Made him think of a poem Maisie used to recite. Chasing the chickens ’til they won’t lay.

A man rode from the yard on the trail toward the town of Granite Creek, Montana. Seems if he’d come to help, he might have stayed and done a little helping. The fact that he didn’t caused Tanner to think the man came for other reasons, though he wasn’t prepared to guess what they might be. But a woman alone except for four children would appear, to some, an easy mark. His hands clenched the reins.

He saw no Auntie Susanne as he rode onward, Robbie’s arms tight about his waist.

“Auntie Susanne is going to be awfully angry,” the boy mumbled. “Maybe you could say it was your fault.”

Tanner stopped the horse and turned to Robbie. “I won’t lie for you. You have to face the consequences of your actions.” How would this woman react to the boy’s wandering? “What do you think your aunt might do?”

“I dunno. But she won’t be happy.” He drew in a deep breath. “I promised I wouldn’t disappear again but I forgot my promise when I heard your horses.”

The boy would have already been a distance from the farm in order to hear them, but Tanner didn’t point that out.

Robbie perked up. “Not sorry I saw them, either. They’re fine-looking animals.”

Tanner chuckled. “Thanks. I happen to agree.” He prodded the horse onward until he entered the yard.

A woman dashed from the barn, dusty skirts flying, blond hair blowing in the wind. She skidded to a halt as she heard the hoofbeats of Tanner’s mount and spun about to face him.

From twenty feet away, he could discern this was not an old aunt but a beautiful young woman with blue eyes fringed by dark lashes.

She stared at him, then blinked as if unable to believe her eyes.

He could almost hear her thoughts. What’s this wild Indian doing in my yard?

If she’d had a man about, he’d most likely come after Tanner with a weapon like Jenny Rosneau’s pa had. The man had taken objection to a half-breed wanting to court his daughter.

“Go join the rest of your kin on the reservation,” he’d said. Mr. Rosneau obviously did not think being a Harding mattered at all.

Big Sam might have objected had he heard. But Tanner did not tell him. All that mattered was that Jenny shared her pa’s opinion. Nothing his pa said would change how people looked at Tanner or how the young ladies ducked into doorways to avoid him.

At least the woman before him appeared unarmed, so he wouldn’t have to defend himself.

He reached back for Robbie, lifted him from the horse and lowered him to the ground. “He belong to you?”

* * *

Susanne’s mind whirled. What was a stranger doing in her yard? Even more, what was he doing with Robbie? She grabbed Robbie and pulled him to her side. “Did this man hurt you?”

The man in question studied her with ebony eyes. He wore a black hat with a feather in the band and a fringed leather shirt. Leather trousers and dusty cowboy boots completed his outfit except for a large knife at his waist. She glanced about but saw no weapon she could grab. She was defenseless, but if he meant to attack she would fight tooth and nail.

His appearance was the icing on the cake for an already dreadful morning. First, the milk cow was missing. Frank had gone looking for her. He was a responsible boy but, still, he was only eleven. He shouldn’t be doing her job. She needed to get the fences fixed so the cow wouldn’t get out. But she simply couldn’t keep up with all the things that needed doing.

Then Liz went to get the eggs. She was ten but had gathered eggs for her mother even before Susanne had come out to help. But six-year-old Janie had followed her and left the gate open. Now all the chickens were out racing around. If Susanne didn’t get them in before dark, some predator would enjoy a chicken dinner.

She thought that was as bad as the morning could get. Then on top of that Robbie had disappeared again. The boy wandered about at will. She had been searching for him when Alfred Morris had shown up with a renewed offer.

“You can’t run the farm on your own,” Alfred had said, as he did every time he crossed her path—which he made certain occurred with alarming regularity. “That’s obvious to anyone who cares to look. Sell it or abandon it. Swallow your pride and accept my offer of marriage. You’d have a much better life as my wife.”

“Mr. Morris, I’m flattered. Truly I am. But I don’t want to sell my brother’s farm. Someday it will belong to his sons.”

Alfred lived in town where he ran a successful mercantile business. She was sure he’d make someone a very good husband. Just not her. No, marriage was simply not in her plans. Hadn’t been even before she became the sole guardian of four children.

Her own parents had died, drowned in a flash flood, when she was twelve. Her brother, Jim, was fifteen years older and had already moved west. He’d come for the funeral and made arrangements for Susanne to live with Aunt Ada. But living with her relative was less than ideal. Aunt Ada treated her like a slave. Never had she let Susanne forget how much she owed her aunt for a roof over her head and a bed. Well, more like a cot in the back of the storeroom but, regardless, according to Aunt Ada Susanne should be grateful for small mercies.

When Jim’s wife grew ill, he’d sent for Susanne to help care for her and the children. Weeks after her arrival, Alice died. And now Jim was gone, too, dead from pneumonia right after Christmas.

The farm had gone downhill since then. Now it was time to plant the crop, but Susanne wondered how she’d be able to get it in the ground.

Only one thing mattered—the children. Keeping them together and caring for them. She would never see them taken in by others, parceled out to relatives or neighbors and treated poorly as she’d been. Somehow she’d take care of them herself.

But she hadn’t counted on having to face an Indian. Didn’t he look familiar? Where had she seen him before?

“Auntie Susanne, he gots some of the wild horses.”

At Robbie’s words, she tore her gaze from the man before her. “Is that where you were?” Her voice came out higher than normal. “You stay away from wild horses. You could get hurt.”

“Mr. Harding brought me back.”

She jerked back to the man on horseback. So that’s why he looked familiar. He was a Harding. The family owned a big ranch—the Sundown Ranch—to the east of Jim’s little farm. She hadn’t recognized him right away because he’d always worn jeans and a shirt when she’d seen him in town. Why did he dress like an Indian now? “Thank you for seeing him home safely.”

“My pleasure, ma’am.” He touched the brim of his hat. “Don’t guess we’ve been properly introduced. I’m your neighbor Tanner Harding.”

The girls left off chasing the chickens and stared at Mr. Harding.

Frank trotted up. “Aunt Susanne, I can’t find the cow.” He turned his attention to their visitor. “You an Indian?”

“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 brothers 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.

* * *

Susanne wanted nothing so much as to chase Tanner Harding down and tell him in no uncertain terms she couldn’t accept his plan. But the place was falling into rack and ruin. Jim had neglected it the past year or two as he dealt with Alice’s illness and then tried to cope with her death. Susanne would be the first to admit she needed help and she would hire a man in a snap if she had the funds to pay one.

She didn’t, so that left her no option but to accept help to get the crop into the ground. The rest of the work she’d manage on her own with the children’s help. Starting this morning. She called to them. “Let’s go fix the fence.” They wasted too much time every day chasing the cow and bringing her home.

The girls came readily enough, but Frank and Robbie stared toward the hill, no doubt curious about Tanner’s horses. She hadn’t seen them or his pen, but Robbie had provided a detailed description. She knew the place where he held the horses. Before Jim’s death, she’d loved wandering across the hills, finding wildflowers, watching hawks soar overhead and enjoying nature. She’d always felt close to God out there. She missed those times alone.

“Come on, boys.”

The pair had an animated discussion before they trotted toward her. She was certain the topic of their conversation was the wild horses. Robbie had talked of nothing else since Tanner had brought him back yesterday.

When they joined her, she caught Robbie’s chin and turned his face to her. “Robbie, I don’t want you going to see those horses. They’re dangerous. Besides, you shouldn’t be wandering about on your own. Something might happen.” Tanner had given no indication as to when he’d bring the horses to the corrals; nor when he’d turn his hand to planting the crop. She certainly had no intention of suggesting he should do it sooner rather than later, if she even saw him again. What was to stop him from riding in and out without acknowledging either her or their agreement?

She was getting suspicious. There was no point in blaming Aunt Ada for making her that way, even though the woman had assured Jim she’d give Susanne a good and loving home and she’d done quite the opposite. The experience had made Susanne cautious and more than a little suspicious of seemingly kind offers.

But that was in the past and she did not intend it to color her whole life.

“Yes, Auntie Susanne,” Robbie said.

With a kiss to his forehead, she released him. Each day he promised not to wander, but she knew he’d forget it if the urge hit him. So every day she reminded him again. Despite her frustration, she smiled at him and his siblings.

Each of the children handled the loss of their parents in different ways. Robbie wandered. Frank tried too hard to be a man. Liz looked for ways to make things go smoothly. Janie got lost in her dreams. Susanne often found her up a tree or tucked into a corner almost hidden from view talking to her doll.

And what did Susanne do? she asked herself.

She tried to take care of the work.

As she twisted wire together and tacked it to the wobbly post, she tried not to think too hard of all she’d lost. First her parents, then Alice and Jim. It was enough to make her certain she would never let herself care for another soul apart from these children, for fear of more loss. It was a strange world. Those who loved her died, while those who would use her to their own advantage lived to do so.

Never again, she vowed. She’d see to that.

She sought a more pleasant topic for her thoughts and settled on the diamond brooch Jim had given to her. It used to be their mother’s and before that, her mother’s. She and Jim had laughed together knowing the little stone in the setting was likely only glass. It didn’t matter. It represented their mother.

“You can hand it down to your eldest daughter,” he’d said.

She’d laughed. “What makes you think I’ll get married?”

He’d squeezed her shoulder. “You’re beautiful. You’ll have dozens of suitors calling.”

At the time, she’d been moved by his praise. Not since her parents died had she felt so blessed. But now it didn’t matter if she was beautiful or not. She’d not have suitors calling once they heard she had four children to raise as her own. She certainly didn’t count Alfred Morris. He was more of a dictator than a suitor. A man who wanted to own her. She knew he would constantly remind her how much she owed him for giving her a fine home.

She’d had enough of that.

And it wasn’t as if she’d have time for courting.

She’d thought a time or two of selling the brooch. But it was the only physical reminder she had of her mother and wasn’t worth a lot in the way of money. The diamond—if it was such—was so small she could barely see it. Instead, she’d trusted God to lead her to another way to manage.

She’d certainly not considered trading the corrals for seeding the crop and would still refuse if the good Lord would provide another way. Please, God, perhaps there’s an old married man who would work for a crop share. Straightening, she squinted toward the trail that led to town in the hopes of seeing a wagon headed her way. The breeze lifted a swirl of dust but nothing more. Seems that prayer was not to be answered at the moment. Anytime soon would do, Lord. She turned back to the fence.

A few minutes later, she twisted the last wire and straightened. “That should hold.”

“Can we go play now?” Robbie asked.

“Yes, you may.” She remained at the fence as they scampered off in various directions. “Don’t wander away,” she thought to call.

Alone for a few minutes and everything momentarily peaceful, she looked about and breathed deeply. She needed this time to think and pray. Father God, please help me keep the children. That means a way to do the farm work as well as time to tend to the children’s needs. Of course, God didn’t need the constant reminding, but she knew no other way to set her worries aside.

She could not linger, and hurried toward the house and the many tasks at hand.

The milk cow trotted away as she neared the yard and headed straight for the hole Susanne had just fixed. Seeing her way blocked, the cow mooed and shook her head.

“Too bad, old girl, you’ll have to stay in your pasture from now on.” Susanne entered the house and found Liz and Janie sitting at the table.

“Can we eat now?” Liz asked. “We’re hungry.”

Susanna didn’t need to look at the clock over the doorway to the living room to know the morning was almost gone and she’d accomplished so little. Being every bit as hungry as the children, she pulled out a frying pan, wiped it clean and set it on the stove to heat while she cut the leftover potatoes. Once they were browned, she broke in eggs. What did it matter if it was only eleven o’clock?

“Call your brothers and we’ll have dinner.”

When the boys clattered through the door, she told them to wash up.

She smiled at the way they bumped into each other. Two boys full of energy and playfulness. Guilt stung her throat. When Jim was alive, he’d romped with them, and she’d played quiet games with them. But it had been weeks since she’d had time to play with any of them.

Susanne put the pan in the middle of the table and looked at Liz and Janie on one side, Frank and Robbie on the other. Her gaze lingered on the vacant spot at the end where Jim used to sit. She swallowed hard, missing him yet feeling blessed by the presence of the children. “Let us pray.” Her voice caught on the words.

The children obediently clasped their hands together under their chins and bowed their heads.

“Lord, we are so blessed to have each other and to have food to eat. Thank You. Amen.”

“Amen!” Frank added with so much enthusiasm that Susanne chuckled.

“It’s not like you’ve been starving to death.” She again felt a sting of guilt. Her meals were simple fare. She lacked time for anything else.

She really should do more cooking. Make bread again. It was weeks since they’d had anything but biscuits and fry cakes. Not that both weren’t perfectly adequate. Just as fried potatoes and eggs were perfectly fine for a meal. Perhaps not day after day, an inner voice suggested. Susanne promised herself she’d do better...once she got the work on the farm taken care of.

“Robbie, slow down.” The child ate as if it was a race.

Frank spoke slowly. “I’m glad Tanner is going to bring his horses here. Pa would have liked that.” Frank’s jaw grew firm, reminding her of Jim. Tears caught in the back of her throat. She’d waited so long to be reunited with her brother only to lose him again. At least until she got to heaven.

“He planned to capture some of the wild horses himself,” Frank explained.

Susanne knew that. In fact, he might well be alive today if not for that dream. He had been following the whereabouts of the herd when he got caught in a downpour that eventually led to his pneumonia.

Frank continued. “He had the corrals all ready and would have gotten his horses for sure except Ma got sick and then he got sick.” His voice quavered but he pushed on. “He told me I could help him when he got the horses. He’d have to gentle them first, but then I could help feed them and could talk to them so they’d learn not to be afraid of children.” Frank sucked in a ragged breath, as did his brother and sisters. This talk of their father and mother would soon have them all in tears. “I want to help Tanner with the horses.”

Susanne jolted back. “I’m sorry, but I must refuse you permission. It simply wouldn’t be safe and I sure don’t want anything to happen to any of you.”

Frank hung his head but not before she caught a glimpse of rebellion in his eyes.

She’d never considered she’d encounter problems with the children. But she must insist. Being around wild horses simply wasn’t safe.

The children were subdued throughout the remainder of the meal. Afterward they helped with the dishes, then scattered outside. She should give them more chores but couldn’t seem to get any organized for them and she freely admitted she didn’t want them to have to work as hard as she had for Aunt Ada.

She glanced about the kitchen. It needed a good cleaning. Alice would be shocked at the way it looked, and Aunt Ada would have had her whipped for the neglect.

But she no longer answered to Aunt Ada or depended on her for a roof over her head and a meal to warm her insides.

She stepped outside when she heard a horse approach. Goodness, months had gone by without anyone but Alfred Morris visiting, and now she had a steady stream of visitors. Or rather, she corrected herself as she recognized the rider, one recurring visitor. Was this what she’d agreed to? For Tanner Harding to come and go at will? Her insides grew brittle at the idea. Frequent visitors, in her mind, came with demands. Demands she didn’t care to fulfill. Thinking of Mr. Befus, she shuddered.

Her eyes narrowed as she saw the milk cow bawling and bucking behind Tanner, protesting at being pulled home at the end of a rope. What was he doing with her cow?

“I brought you something,” he said, jerking his thumb in the direction of the cow.

“Was she out? I fixed the fence just a few hours ago.”

“I saw her jump over the fence where the wires were slack. She was intent on the wide-open spaces.”

“What am I going to do with her?”

“You could try tethering her.”

She hadn’t meant the question for him but if he knew how to keep the cow home, she would like to know. “How do you do that?”

“I’ll show you.” He led the cow toward the barn.

“You tell me and I can do it myself.” Susanne followed hard on his heels, intent on making it clear she didn’t need his help. She did not want him to think he could take advantage of her failures.

“You’re back,” Robbie called to Tanner.

The four children stood in the doorway of the barn, their faces eager.

“I brought your cow home.”

“She won’t stay,” Frank said.

“That’s our problem,” Susanne pointed out, not wanting Tanner to think she couldn’t manage. Never mind that there was plenty of proof she wasn’t doing well on her own.

Ignoring her protests, Tanner handed the rope to Frank and went into the tack room, picking his way over the items on the floor.

Susanne’s cheeks burned. She’d been meaning to clean up that mess. Another of the chores that never seemed to get done.

Tanner returned, a halter in his hands, and went to the cow, five people watching him, four with keen interest, one with reluctance. Okay, maybe she’d let him do it this time, while she watched and learned. After that, she’d do it herself.

“Let’s see if we can train her to stay home.” He slipped the halter over her head, found a length of rope on a nail by the door and hooked it to the halter.

“It’s long enough we can secure it to anything solid enough to hold her. Which might have to be a tree with a girth of at least six feet.”

The children giggled at his explanation as they followed him from the barn. The cow balked, but he leaned into the rope and persuaded her to walk along.

Could this control the stubborn animal? It must. She had no other choice.

“That tree will do.” He led them to the spot where the grass was green and the tree stout, and tied the rope about the tree. “Now she needs water.”

“I’ll get it.” Frank ran back to the barn and dragged out a small trough. He put it beside the tree and then hurried to fill it with water.

Tanner stood by and let the boy do it. Robbie insisted on helping and, even though he could only carry half a bucket of water, Frank let him.

Susanne secretly smiled her approval at how the children worked together. Helping each other was the only way the five of them would manage to run this farm.

“That ought to do,” Tanner said with some satisfaction.

“Thank you,” she said to him. He might have saved her several hours a day by showing her a simple remedy. “I’m sure I can do it in the future.” Hopefully her voice didn’t sound as uncertain as she felt.

The cow jerked at the end of her rope and mooed a protest.

Little Janie pressed her fingers to her mouth. “Daisy doesn’t want to be tied up.” Tears pooled in her eyes.

Tanner squatted in front of the little one and wiped the tears from her face. “She’ll get used to it. In a little while she’ll even learn to like it. Just like we all learn to adjust and even like changes.”

Susanne could well argue otherwise but before she organized what she would say, Janie’s eyes cleared and she smiled. The little girl reached out and touched his cheek.

“I like you.”

Tanner straightened quickly and gave Susanne a dark look.

She pulled Janie to her side. He’s only here for a short while, she wanted to warn her niece. Don’t get fond of him.

Frank spoke, his voice breaking the tension. “My pa planned to capture some wild horses, too. But he died.” Instead of lightening the moment, Frank’s words descended on them like a dark cloud.

Susanne blinked hard, determined not to give way to tears.

“That’s why he built that set of corrals,” Frank added.

“They look real sturdy,” Tanner said.

“They are. Pa said if you’re going to train horses, you need to be set up for it.”

“That’s a fact. I think he would wonder why I didn’t plan ahead before I trapped my horses.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Tanner chuckled. At the sound, the children relaxed visibly, but tension mounted in Susanne. Be careful, little ones. Guard your hearts.

“I should have,” Tanner said, “but when the horses were hanging about within easy capturing distance, I couldn’t resist grabbing the opportunity, trusting something would work out. And, look, it has. Your pa’s corrals are going to be used just as he intended they should.” With that, Tanner moved toward his horse.

Susanne followed, torn between her need to exert her independence and gratitude to him for showing her a simple solution to her cow problem. “Thank you for your help with Daisy.”

He slowed and faced her. “You’re welcome.”

“And for being kind to little Janie. She’s very easily hurt at the moment.”

She wondered at the way his expression grew hard, his eyes cool and distant.

“Ma’am, I assure you that both you and the little girls are perfectly safe from me. I would never take advantage of you.” His expression hardened like granite. “However, there are those who would not believe that. Who would criticize you, or worse, simply for your association with me...a half-breed.”

She recalled his accusation that she’d asked him to leave yesterday based on that fact, something she had never cleared up. Now was the time. “Mr. Harding, it is not the blood of a man that means anything to me. It is his conduct that reveals if his heart is noble or base.”

His eyebrows went up in a way that made her think he didn’t believe her, then he touched the brim of his hat. “I need to check the corrals and make sure they’re ready for use.” He strode away.

She didn’t have any more faith in his words than he had in hers. Time alone would prove whether or not she was safe in his presence, but it wasn’t fear of him physically that made her shudder. No, it was the way the children looked at him. The way he had shown up to help when she floundered to manage on her own and the fact she’d been desperate enough to accept the agreement between them.

She already regretted her decision. Was she to be forever at the mercy of other people’s handouts and thus under obligation to them, wondering what they would demand in return?

Chapter Three

The 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.

Chapter Four

Tanner’s muscles had turned to stone. He’d waited for her response, and when she said she had no objection he relaxed so suddenly he welcomed the hoe to lean on. He’d sensed her apprehension all day. Part of him wanted to assure her she had nothing to fear from him. A larger part knew he should walk away from this family before anyone could take exception to his presence on the farm of an unmarried white woman. Two things kept him from leaving. First, the desperate need of this family. And, to a lesser degree, his plan to tame the horses.

Ma would have approved of him helping this family.

What would Seena Harding have said if she’d seen the way he stared at Susanne as he paused at the end of the garden with Pat’s reins slack in his hands? Maybe she could have explained to him why the whole world had ground to a halt as their looks went on and on.

He gave a little snort that he hoped sounded like he might be dislodging something caught in the back of his throat. Like maybe dust or fluff off the weeds. Who’d have thought plowing a garden could confuse a man so thoroughly? Then he finally spoke.

“What are you going to plant?”

“I’m going to plant peas and beans and potatoes and carrots over here. And over there lettuce and radishes and chard. And turnips.” She laughed as if the idea pleased her immensely. The look she gave him about turned him to mush.

What was wrong with him? He’d never felt this way before in his entire life. Well, except for the time that Rosneau girl had batted her eyes at him when they were both about fifteen. Right before her father had grabbed his daughter, pushing her behind him and saying, “You stay away from the likes of him.” Tanner should have understood how unwelcome he was at that point, but he’d persisted until both Jenny and Mr. Rosneau had made it abundantly clear with more than words.

At the reminder of that humiliation, he pulled his senses back where they belonged—in his head. “No beets?”

“Oh, yeah. Beets, too.”

“Sounds fine. What are you starting with?”

“Peas. Lots of peas.”

He dug a trench along the taut cord and she followed, bent over at the waist as she dropped pea seeds in the trench.

“Can we help?” Liz asked. Her brothers and sister stood behind her waiting for his answer.

“You certainly can.” He moved the twine and dug another trench. He got pea seeds and gave some to each of the children, set them at various places along the row and showed them how to carefully drop in the seeds. They all bent over, intent on the task.

He lifted his eyes to see Susanne watching him.

Her gaze shifted to the children and her expression hardened.

He tried to think what it meant, but he could only find confusion in his thoughts. She’d agreed to let him help, but he sensed a reluctance in her. Because of who he was? Or rather what he was?

Seeing she had almost reached the end of her row, he moved the string and dug another trench. The whole time he avoided looking directly at her, trying to keep his thoughts in order.

He quickly filled in her row, checked the children’s row and covered it, as well.

Susanne straightened to look at what she’d completed, but when she took a step backward, she stumbled on a lump of dirt and fell on her rump. Her breath whooshed from her.

He dropped his hoe, prepared to run to her rescue, but he forced his feet to remain where they were. Not everyone would welcome a hand up from a half-breed.

Her burst of laughter froze him to the spot.

She jumped to her feet, dusted her skirts and laughed again. “That will teach me to watch where I’m going.”

The children clustered about her.

“Are you okay?” Liz asked, her voice full of concern.

She gathered them in a group hug. “I’m fine.

Robbie broke free. “Aunt Susanne, show us how to watch where you’re going when you go backward.”

She laughed again. “I can’t show you ’cause I can’t do it.” Her gaze hit Tanner. Her eyes danced with happiness and pleasure in these children, and perhaps in life in general.

He thought he was frozen in place before. Now it threatened to become a permanent state. What would it be like to be part of such joy and acceptance? Then he stopped himself. His family accepted him. It was all he needed.

Susanne looked away, shifting her attention back to the children. “I see you’re done with your row. What shall we plant next?” She led them to the stack of seeds and offered them their choice.

His body remembered how to work and he covered in the rows and moved the stakes.

“They decided on beets,” she declared.

“I like beets,” he said. “You ever make beet pickles? Maisie, that’s my stepmother, makes great beet pickles. They taste mighty fine in the middle of winter. So spicy sweet.” He rattled on like a loose wagon wheel, but he couldn’t seem to stop. It beat staring at her as if he’d lost his senses.

“Auntie Susanne, you ever make beet pickles?” Janie asked. “They sound good.”

“They do, indeed. Maybe Tanner will ask his stepmother to give me her recipe.” She faced him with an expression of horror. “I’m sorry. I should have said Mr. Harding.”

It was his turn to enjoy a laugh. “Think I already said Mr. Harding is my pa, though most people call him Big Sam. I prefer you call me Tanner.”

She nodded, lowered her gaze, then slowly brought it back to his. “I’d be pleased if you’d use my Christian name, as well.”

Little did she know, he already did in his thoughts. “Thank you.”

“Can we call you Tanner?” Robbie asked.

Tanner looked at Susanne, wondering whether she would allow the familiarity. He knew that many folk didn’t approve of children using the Christian names of adults, but on the ranch they’d never held to such rules. “I don’t mind, if it’s okay with you.”

She nodded. “If you aren’t offended.”

“Not in the least. My ma didn’t hold with children and adults being treated differently.”

“Then, yes.” She spoke to the children. “But you must remember to be respectful.”

Suddenly the children were shy and wouldn’t look at him.

Janie giggled. “Tanner is just like us.”

Susanne shook her head, but her eyes brimmed with amusement. “No. He’s an adult.”

“I know.” Janie gave her aunt a look rife with impatience. “’Cause he’s big and strong like my papa.”

The children studied him.

He let them make their assessment. “I’ll never be like your papa. ’Cause no one can ever be like him. Your papa was special to you and always will be.”

Four little heads nodded.

“You ever meet him?” Frank asked. “Papa would have liked you.”

Tanner couldn’t believe the boy’s words. His throat tightened at the suggestion. “I met your pa a few times in town.” It was a fair ways to Granite Creek so trips were infrequent. He tried to recall the few times he’d seen Jim Collins. “I recall last summer he was in town waiting for the stagecoach to arrive. A pretty young lady climbed down and got into his wagon.” By the time he finished he realized that young lady must have been Susanne. Would she be offended at his brash comments? He stole a glance at her, saw her cheeks had grown pink, though he might put that down to the effort of her work.

“A pretty lady?” Janie asked, innocent and curious.

“He means Auntie Susanne,” Liz said.

“I suppose I do. Sorry, ma’am. Didn’t realize until after I’d spoken that I was talking about you.”

“Why are you sorry?” Robbie asked. “She is pretty, isn’t she? I think so.”

“Me, too,” Frank said, and his sisters added their agreement.

Susanne’s cheeks grew pinker by the moment. Tanner should think of a way to change the subject but he could only stare and smile. She certainly was pretty.

What was wrong with his head that he stood here like a dunce thinking about how pretty this white gal was?

How had the conversation led him so far astray? They’d been talking about Jim Collins. His thoughts settled into their proper place.

“I also met your pa a time or two while I was out riding the range. One time he helped me move a bunch of cows that were stranded by a little rock slide in a draw. He didn’t seem to mind pitching in to move the rocks.” He paused, wishing for a way to ease the children’s sense of loss. “He was a good man. Sorry to see him go.”

Frank nodded. “He was a good man.”

Tanner knew he had to distract the children from their grief. “What do you say to getting the rest of this garden in?”

The children eagerly shifted back to the task at hand. As Tanner measured out the next row, Susanne came up to him.

“Thank you for your kind words regarding my brother. They mean a lot to me and the children.”

He slowly brought his gaze to hers, telling himself the whole time that he could look her in the eye without getting all muddled in the head. As soon as their gazes connected, he knew he was wrong.

Something about the way she looked at him made him forget who he was and think only of who he might be...except for his mixed heritage.

“You’re good with the children,” she added when she realized he had nothing to say.

Her comment eased his stubborn mind. “Even though I was young at the time, I remember my ma explaining to one of the cowboys why she allowed her young sons to explore so freely.” At the memory a smile started in his heart. “She said we’d learn best by trying things and seeing if they worked or not. Like the time I tried to rope a bull. I got the rope over his head and he jerked me off the fence. I hung on. I’m not sure what I thought I’d do. The bull dragged me along, bumping across every rock and lump in the ground. But I wouldn’t let go. Might still be there if Pa hadn’t rode up. He grabbed me. Had to pry my hands open to release the rope.” He chuckled.

Susanne looked shocked. “Were you hurt?”

He looked at the palms of his hands as if checking for the rope burns and rubbed his stomach, remembering the bruises. “Nothing serious. You know what I said to Pa?”

“You thanked him for rescuing you?”

“Nope. I said, ‘Guess I won’t do that again.’” He leaned back on his heels, the memory ripe with so many good things. His pa’s concern, his ma’s pride in how hard he tried and the knowledge that they both cared about him in their different ways.

She laughed. “I would hope not.”

They returned to putting seeds in the ground. After the beets, beans and corn were planted, Susanne said, “I’ll have to do the carrot seeds. They need to be sprinkled carefully.”

The children stood to one side, watching. Robbie shoved Frank hard enough to make him fall down. Janie kicked at the dirt sending up puffs of dust.

“Stop doing that!” Liz said.

The children were getting restless. “Let’s do potatoes,” Tanner told them. “They’re fun.”

“Yeah!” Robbie yelled. He ran to the bucket holding the eyes.

“Whoa, there.” Susanne ran after him to save the potato eyes. Her bonnet fell down her back and her brown skirts flicked back and forth with each step. Her laughter filled the air as she caught up to Robbie and swung him off his feet. “What’s your rush?”

Tanner leaned on his hoe and enjoyed the scene.

“Tanner said it was fun.”

She set him down. “And so it shall be.”

Tanner’s inside warmed as he watched the pair laughing together.

Susanne found tin cans for each of the children and divvied the potatoes among them. They returned to his side where he waited with the hoe.

“Wait one minute,” Susanne said, and raced away.

Tanner again admired the view.

“Where’s she going?” Liz demanded.

“I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out when she gets back.” For his part, he was content to watch.

She ducked into the barn and he heard a clatter come from inside. Had she fallen over some of the farm implements strewn about? He started to toss the hoe aside so he could go after her when she marched out, triumphantly carrying another hoe.

“Let’s work in teams,” she said as she reached the garden. “That way the work will go twice as fast. Who wants to be on my team?”

To Tanner’s utter amazement, all four said they wanted to be on his.

Susanne tossed one hand in the air in what he hoped meant surprise. A part of his mind worried she might be offended. “You’re going to make me plant by myself? Does that seem fair?”

“I’ll help you,” Liz said, and went to her aunt’s side.

Tanner edged backward. He had no desire to come between Susanne and her charges. But perhaps he could offer a solution. “Tell you what.” He addressed the children. “We’ll make teams and plant one row then make new teams for the next row. Agreed?”

They nodded.

“Liz and Robbie are on your aunt’s team for the first row. Frank and Janie are on mine.”

The children sorted themselves out and got into place at the end of the first two rows. Susanne and her team beside Tanner and his team.

He tried not to be aware of her. Not to feel her elbow bump him. Not to want to close his eyes and breathe in her presence. He cleared his throat. “Ready?”

“Yes!” they chorused.

He secretly smiled at Susanne’s eager participation.

“On your mark. Get set. Go.” He dug a hole, one of the children dropped in an eye. He scooped the dirt over it. He dug another hole. The other child dropped in an eye and Tanner covered it. Beside him, Susanne did the same thing. He kept himself to a slow, steady pace so they worked side by side.

They reached the end and turned about. Liz and Frank traded places and they planted two more rows. At the end, Janie and Robbie traded places.

All too soon they were done and the six of them stood back and admired their work. He wouldn’t mind staying there the rest of the afternoon, but that was impossible.

“What’s next?” he asked.

“Just lettuce and small stuff. I’ll finish up. I want to plant some flowers, too.” Her voice grew dreamy.

He stole a look at her. She looked at the garden, a slight smile on her lips as if she saw it in full bloom.

She held out her hands to draw the children close. “Let’s thank God for the garden and ask Him to bless it.” She raised her eyebrows as she looked at Tanner.

He shook his head and backed up. “This is your garden.”

She seemed to understand and, with the children clustered about her, she bowed her head. The children followed her example.

He snatched his hat off, at the same time smiling at how Janie held her hands together in prayer.

“Dear Heavenly Father,” Susanne said in a reverent yet trusting tone. “Thank You that our garden is planted. Bless it with rain and sunshine. Provide us with food from the ground. Thank You that You hear our prayers and always, always meet our needs and take care of us. Amen.”

For a moment they remained huddled together, then the children ran to play.

He didn’t put his hat back on, feeling as if he stood on holy ground.

She faced him, a gentle smile on her lips. “Thank you,” she said. “I’ve been worried about the garden since the snow melted. I know God will take care of me, provide for our needs, but it’s easier to trust when I see things happening.”

He nodded, not knowing how to respond. Then words escaped him. “It’s difficult to trust when you can’t see God or know if He’s listening.”

Her eyes widened. “He’s always listening. He’s always near. We have His promise and I have but to look about to see His presence in all that He’s created.”

Tanner needed proof in this aspect of his life as he did in every aspect. When he didn’t respond she smiled though her eyes remained guarded.

“Anyway, thanks again for your help. You made it fun for the children.”

“It’s the way I was raised. Maisie always says there’s no point in looking at work as drudgery when it can as easily be joyful.” He had to clear up something that lingered at the back of his mind. “I hope you weren’t upset because the children all wanted to be on my team.” He had no desire to earn her disfavor. On the heels of that thought came another so foreign it was surely a mistake. He’d enjoyed working with her and had allowed himself to believe she didn’t mind working with him. He knew it couldn’t be so. He’d known most of his life both on the ranch and off that he was neither white nor Indian. Some of the cowboys called him injun and tormented him. Or at least they had until Tanner got strong enough they feared crossing him.

In town—well, he wasn’t going to dwell on the many times he’d been shunned at a social event or young ladies refused to sit by him or even crossed the street to avoid him.

It was enough to enjoy one sunny afternoon when he didn’t feel that disapproval. He wasn’t in a hurry to end it, but he must before she did.

He moved away six feet, paused to speak his piece. “Tomorrow I’ll return to take care of plowing the field for the crop. I won’t bother you again.”

* * *

Susanne stared after him as he rode from the yard. It seemed he couldn’t wait to get away. Her cheeks warmed. Had she said too much? Given him reason to think she expected him to be ready and willing to take care of chores other than the crop? But she wanted nothing from him other than the fulfillment of their agreement.

She returned to the garden, planted a patch of lettuce and then marked out several round areas for flowers next to the fence so she could enjoy them from the kitchen window.

Maybe Tanner had a young lady he was interested in. That would explain his eagerness to let Susanne know he would be avoiding her. The young lady should consider herself fortunate. Tanner would certainly make a good husband and father if the way he’d acted this afternoon was any indication.

She’d enjoyed the afternoon, perhaps more than she had a right to. But the lessons learned from Aunt Ada had not been in vain. Every pleasant moment ended poorly, so she wasn’t surprised that Tanner had suddenly withdrawn and made it clear he wanted to avoid her in the future. However, she would not let it ruin her day. Another Aunt Ada lesson.

She finished her planting, put away the tools and supplies then went out to the pasture to get the cow.

The walk gave her time to settle her thoughts and bring them back to where they belonged. God, I’m trying to be grateful that Tanner seems to be the answer to my prayer for help, but in truth, I’m perhaps not as grateful as I should be. I’m sure You understand how cautious I am about this. You are the only one I can count on. You love me unconditionally. You will never leave me or forsake me.

Since God could read her thoughts there was no point in being less than honest, so she admitted it had been fun working alongside Tanner. She even admitted she sometimes had yearnings for something more in her life. Those yearnings would not be given a name. They must be denied. Her job was to raise the children and do it in a way that they would never feel they were a burden to her. She’d never put them in a position of obligation.

She’d tell Tanner she meant to end their agreement but then how could she get the crop in on her own? Besides, he already had his horses there.

She couldn’t tell him not to come. But she’d make certain to accept nothing more from him.

She put the cow in the barn, then as she headed for the house she noticed the children peering through the bars of the corrals watching the horses. “Please stay away from the horses.”

Frank faced her. “We’re only looking. No harm in that, is there? We’re safe on the outside of the corrals. After all, Pa built them solid as a rock.”

To suggest otherwise would be too close to inviting all-out rebellion. “So long as you stay outside the fence.”

“Of course, we will.” Frank’s look accused her of foolishness.

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