The Cowboy's Ready-Made Family (12 page)

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

How could he ever hope to belong in either world?

* * *

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

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

And he had.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The sound grew louder, more frequent. More insistent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The man took a step but swayed sideways.

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

“Tanner. I wanna see Tanner.”

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

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

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

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

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

How long until morning? How long before Tanner came?

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

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

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

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

“What's wrong?” Frank whispered back.

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

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

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

They didn't move.

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

The children relaxed visibly.

“He'll know what to do,” Frank said.

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

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

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

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

Then he reined about and rode out of sight.

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

Chapter Eleven

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

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

Were the occupants of the house injured? Or worse?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don't live here.” He looked toward the house. Susanne peered out the window, her face wreathed in worry. “It's okay,” he called. “Are you all right?”

She nodded, her eyes far too wide. Even through the wavy glass, the tension around her mouth was evident.

He left Charlie clutching his head and walked to the door. When he turned the handle he met resistance. She'd barred the door. Had Charlie tried to enter the house? Had he succeeded? Every breath contained a thousand knives.

“Susanne, open the door.” He had to assure himself she and the children were all right.

He barely waited for her to do so before he pushed the door open and stepped inside. She faced him, wearing a man's heavy coat that almost smothered her. Sticking out from a too-long sleeve, one hand held a rifle. His eyes sought hers and he saw her colorless face, her trembling lips. She looked ready to collapse and without another moment's hesitation he reached for her.

She crumpled against him, sobbing softly.

“Are you okay? Are the children okay?”

The children burst from their rooms and crowded around him. He held the quivering Susanne with one arm. With the other, he drew the kids close.

They all talked at once so he could not make out what any of them said. “One at a time. What happened?”

Frank stood back, the official spokesman. “When we got up Auntie Susanne was guarding the door with Pa's rifle. She told us someone was out there and we should stay in our rooms and be quiet.”

“The man is Charlie, a cousin of mine. You can go out now. He won't harm you. But to be on the safe side, stay away from him. I need to talk to your aunt.”

Four fearful children edged past Tanner. They left the door open so he could watch Charlie, who sat in a miserable heap where Tanner had found him. The children slipped by him and raced to the barn. They hurried inside, where Tanner could see them hovering in the shadows, watching and waiting.

He helped Susanne to a chair and pulled a second chair close and held her hands and rubbed her back. After some moments, her breathing steadied and he felt he could ask the questions burning in his head.

“Did he come in? Did he hurt you?”

She lifted her gaze to his. Slowly she shook her head. “He scared me.” She shuddered. “I don't even know how to use a gun. What if he'd come in and tried to hurt one of the children?”

Or you?
“I don't think he would.” Not when he was sober, at least, but who could foretell what a drunk Charlie would do? “How long was he there?”

“I don't know.” She crumpled into a sobbing heap.

Tanner wanted nothing more than to hold her and comfort her, but she cradled her arms about her and seemed lost in her own turmoil. He continued to rub her back.

“I'll send him on his way, then I'll show you how to load and fire the rifle.” Hitting a target did not matter as much as being able to persuade an intruder that she meant business.

She sucked back a sob, wiped her eyes and nodded. “Thank you. Again.” She sat up straight. “I'm really quite all right.” She pulled the sleeves of the big coat over her hands and gave a chuckle that caught in her throat. “I'm not even decent.”

He didn't want to leave her; nor did he want to make her uncomfortable by sitting in her kitchen while she was still in her nightclothes, though they were well covered by the coat.

He patted her back one last time and pushed to his feet. “I'll take care of Charlie.” He strode from the house, grabbed Charlie by the back of his shirt and heaved him to his feet. “Where's your horse?” He'd not seen any sign of the animal.

Charlie jerked his head up the coulee. “Left 'im in the pen you built up in the coulee.”

“Then take yourself up there and ride on out. If you ever come back and bother this family again, I'll be forced to deal most severely with you.” He would not say what he might do. Let Charlie fill in those details.

“But, Tanner, it's a long walk.”

“You made it this way. I'm sure you can make it back.”

“But ain't you and me friends? I thought we could throw in together. Go into the mountains and live like our ancestors did.”

There had been a time when the idea would have appealed to Tanner. It no longer did. He wasn't sure where he belonged but he didn't want it to be on some faraway mountain valley where he'd live like a recluse. “Which ancestors would you mean?” The question brought the man upright.

Charlie squinted at him, as if trying to see past the befuddlement in his brain. “You're changed. You going white?”

“Can't see how I can, do you?”

It was a question he knew many of his half-breed brothers shared. Can't be white. Can't be native. Who could they be? He meant to find out.

“Now go get your horse. If you want to visit me, come to the ranch. Not here. You understand?”

“Yeah.” Charlie made a crazy zigzag path up the coulee.

As Tanner turned to the house, the children stepped slowly from the barn.

“Is he going to leave?” Liz asked.

“He won't come back.” Tanner understood how frightening the incident had been for them and wanted to reassure them. “Your aunt would have defended you. Now go have your breakfast.”

Frank stayed back as the others hurried to the house. “She didn't have a shell in the rifle.”

“I know. I'll show her what to do. First, I have to go get Scout.”

Frank nodded but his shoulders remained hunched. Frank was old enough to realize the danger Charlie posed and the inadequacy of an aunt who didn't know how to use the rifle to protect them. Tanner meant to resolve that problem before the day was out.

He walked back to the trees to untie Scout and rode him to the farm. Then he got Pat ready to go to work, waiting and hoping Susanne would come out to speak to him. She didn't. He delayed as long as he could, then went to the field. The crop still had to be planted.

As he worked, he watched the yard for a glimpse of Susanne, but she stayed in the house. The children stayed close by, too, except for the little while it took Frank to tether the cow and Liz to gather the eggs.

Tanner glanced up the draw. No sign of Charlie returning.

By noon, his nerves were so taut he could hear them strumming as he inhaled.

He fed and watered Pat, but Susanne did not come out with a plate of food and cup of water for him. Was she more frightened than he realized? Or did she blame him because Charlie was someone he knew?

Minutes later Frank came over carrying a plate of food. “Auntie Susanne is busy with some baking so she sent me.”

“Thanks.” Tanner sank down by the barn to eat. The food was like sawdust in his mouth. Was it really because she was too busy? Or was she so badly offended she wouldn't speak to him again?

He finished his tasteless meal and handed the plate back to Frank. “Tell her thanks.”

“I will.” Frank didn't move. He looked as if he was about to say something, then gave a little shrug and left.

Tanner returned to seeding. It was a good thing Pat knew what to do because Tanner's mind was only half on his task. He was preoccupied with Susanne and his eyes sought a glimpse of her at every pass. Finally he saw her. She came out to dump dishwater on the plants by the house, then bent to pull an errant weed, but she hurried back inside without so much as a glance in his direction. Once he thought he saw her watching him out the side window. He blinked and the image was gone. Likely his imagination. It seemed a thick, invisible wall had been erected around her.

By midafternoon, he could hardly breathe. Somehow he had to make things right between them again. If only she would bring out the snack. His hopes died when Liz headed his way with a plate and Frank followed with a bucket of water. Weren't the little ones coming, too? Were they forbidden to speak to him?

He stopped at the end of the field and waited for the pair to reach him. “Where's Robbie and Janie?”

Liz handed him cookies. “Auntie Susanne is cutting Robbie's hair and Janie has been confined to the house for the afternoon.”

“Oh?” Though he wouldn't pry, he'd sure like to know why.

“Yeah.” Frank's voice carried either disgust or discouragement and Tanner wasn't sure which. “She had a temper tantrum, threw a plate on the floor and broke it.”

“Doesn't sound like Janie.”

Liz and Frank exchanged glances, then Liz said, “She's upset 'cause she thinks Auntie Susanne is mad at you.”

“Is she?” Tanner hoped he appeared relaxed and only mildly interested when he was aching to know the answer.

“I don't know,” Frank said. “But she's awfully quiet. I said you wanted to teach her to shoot and she said to tell you no thanks. That sounds kind of mad to me.”

“I guess all we can do is give her time to get over it.” Secretly he wondered if she would. He knew why she was angry at him. Charlie was his cousin, a half-breed just like Tanner. No doubt she blamed him. Just as she was likely having second thoughts about being associated with a half-breed if Charlie's behavior was an indication of what they were like.

He'd give her time. Surely she would realize that he and Charlie were not alike, aside from their mixed heritage. That was something they couldn't help. Their choices and behavior were things they could control, and Tanner had done nothing except help her.

By the end of the day, she'd not made any sign of having changed her mind.

He stopped by the house to say goodbye, but she hung back. “Goodbye, Susanne. I'll be back in the morning.”

“Goodbye, and thank you again.”

Did pink flood her cheeks? Why would she blush?

He asked himself the same questions the next day when he encountered more of the same. She avoided him and when he spoke to her—
good morning
and
goodbye
—her cheeks blossomed like a wild rose.

He pondered the reason day and night. He tossed and turned until his brothers said they could hear him in their rooms and threatened to make him sleep in the barn.

It was on the ride over on the third day that it hit him. She blushed because she was embarrassed for clinging to him both when he found Janie and when he rescued her from Charlie, even though there was really no rescuing. Of course, she did not know that. She'd clung to him in trust.

Perhaps her reaction had frightened her. After all, she tried so hard not to need anyone.

Or...a new thought surfaced...maybe she thought he'd be offended by her actions.

He grinned from ear to ear. He liked the way she'd clung to him. Liked having her lean on him in times of trouble. If he could, he would always be there for her to run to.

How was he to make her understand that without coming right out and saying it? For a moment, he considered doing exactly that—telling her how glad he was to hold her and comfort her. But he wasn't ready to risk being misunderstood. There remained a very real doubt that she saw him as another Charlie.

He must do something to open the door to better feelings between them.

* * *

Robbie perched at the window, waiting for Tanner to appear. “He isn't coming. What if he never comes again?”

Susanne wanted to assure Robbie that Tanner would come. He'd said he would seed the crop. His horses were here. But she was beyond trying to convince them when she couldn't convince herself.

Janie kicked the chair and wailed when it hurt her foot.

The children had been difficult the past few days.